I pushed the controls forward with both hands. The enormous grabby claw hand of this XR Skiff I was piloting reached out toward the very outer “A” band of Saturn’s rings.

 

I was only half paying attention. Truth is, I could do this maneuver in my sleep and have in countless dreams that I’m sure counts as practice.

 

The other half of my brain was concentrated on Audrey. Back home on Earth, living her life away from me. “Better apart,” she said in our last conversation. “Better off pursuing our dreams on our own instead of one of us miserable together.”

 

Thing is—this isn’t my dream.

 

The grabby claw thing closed its giant fingers around a massive hunk of ice and made a perfect seal. They say these rings have enough water in them to quench the thirst of humanity for a million years. I could have used a drink then, but neat, no water.

 

I rotated the skiff, sighing as I did so, pointed back toward the Mothership to deliver the great big ice cube. “Pick it up, Sharon,” I heard warbling over the transmission line from my commanding officer, Herbert. God, I hated that guy and his micromanaging. Humping ice from Saturn isn’t my dream. I don’t see how it could be anyone’s dream.

 

I would gladly have followed Audrey anywhere. I was thrilled on her behalf for being the best field medic anyone’s ever seen. I think she just wanted me out, for whatever—

 

A blast of heat, light and force made me shield my eyes, instinctively, just as the viewscreen blacked over to prevent permanent eye damage. An alarm cacophony filled my ears and my brains went into my feet—the XR was tumbling in space, end over end! I scrambled to right myself, trying desperately not to panic!

 

The Mothership was nothing but a rapidly extinguishing fireball, debris, and dead body parts. I screamed.

 

The tumbling under control, I slammed on the controls to get clear of the cloud of debris. I was inches away from hull breach. The claw clutching the ice groaned and nearly detached at my go-around maneuver.

 

At the same time, I scanned the vicinity. No mercenaries, at least none visible. No asteroids or other space objects. Nothing that could have possibly caused the loss of all hands.

 

Nothing left. Just me, my limited air, my limited food and a six-foot block of ice.

 

My first coherent thought after what seemed like an eternity of shock is that my deep radio transmitter was still working.

 

Call Houston.

 

No.

 

They’d never get a rescue ship here in time.

 

Call Audrey.

 

I hadn’t dialed her number or even been tempted to in weeks.

 

Audrey blinked back into my life on the HUD, on her lunch break in the field hospital commissary, harried and lost in thought, even more beautiful than ever.

 

“I don’t blame you,” I blurted out first. Not even a hello. What was wrong with me?

 

“Sharon,” she said, looking bewildered, as she so often did around me.

 

“Audrey,” I managed. The transmission was getting blurry. No, it was my eyes. I furiously wiped them away with my jumpsuit sleeve, wanting desperately to be with her, to be home, but thanking the gods at the same time that her face

 

was

 

the last

 

thing

 

I will ever…

 

The racking sobs hit me then.

 

“Sharon!” she repeated. “Something happened. Tell me!”

 

“All—All hands lost on the Mothership,” I choke out. “An explosion during my fifth ice mining run of the day. Un—Unknown cause.”

 

She dropped her hot coffee at that, spilling it all over her food, the table, her lap, the floor.

 

Audrey stood up, cursing and furiously dabbing the steaming coffee off her nurse scrubs. It would almost look comical under different circumstances.

 

“I’ll call your work—send a rescue,” Audrey said as she gingerly picked up the shattered pieces of ceramic.

 

“Audrey, you know as well as I do that I don’t have nearly enough oxygen for that,” I said.

 

“We—we have to do something,” she said, still crouching and staring up at me.

 

“Why do you think I called you?” I said, my voice raised a little and rambling. “I don’t have anyone else. I know we separated for a reason. You felt guilty about me following you. You couldn’t stand the imbalance. I understand. That’s okay. This isn’t your fault.”

 

I’ve had a lot of time to think about this mining these damned ice cubes.

 

“I wasn’t able to tell you then,” I continued. Audrey’s mouth was open, still knelt down and frozen mid pickup. “My dream was to be with you. I’d have followed you anywhere and created my life where you were.” I finally managed to put a voice to what I had been thinking all this time.

 

“You know I couldn’t let you do that,” she said. “Be tied down to me.” She was sobbing as well then and it was hard to understand. “You’d have resented me eventually.”

 

I shook my head. “I guess we’ll never know if it would have worked.”

 

Audrey stood up, placing the broken pieces on the table. “How much air is left? How much time do we have?”

 

I noticed then for the first time that the air gauge was flashing. Blame my hyperfocus on my lost love and lost ship.

 

I wiped my eyes again and peered closer.

 

“FUCK!” I shouted. “Debris must have nicked the gas line. We’ve got…until the end of this conversation.”

 

“Are you serious?!” Audrey said.

 

“For the first time ever. Deadly.” I laughed bitterly. “I’m half inclined to go rocketing into Saturn so I don’t suffer.”

 

She stared at me.

 

“Do it,” she said.

 

“What?”

 

“Pretend you’re holding my hand.”

 

I punched in the coords and the skiff yawed. Saturn filled my viewscreen behind her head. It made her even prettier. A crowd in the commissary was forming behind her, tears in their eyes and hands over their mouths.

 

“Goodbye,” she said. “I love you.”

 

“Until the next life. I love you too.”

 

I smacked the accelerator. Felt the G-forces slam me into my seat. The friction melted the ice.

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