Reaching Beyond

Nikolai stepped into the exercise module, ready to work up a sweat. It had been a long day, busy with various scientific tests on pine seedlings in one of the Space Station mission rooms specifically set up for that purpose. Housed between the surgical workstation and the small animal facility, the most technologically advanced equipment was set up for his use. Indeed, he had to admit that nothing had been spared to obtain the best instruments possible. Not particularly exciting work for an agronomist of his caliber, actually, but, oh well, the tests needed to be done and it was clear that the mission was going full speed ahead on the continued study of the effects of weightlessness on plant life. He scratched at his knit shirt and pulled once more on his boxer shorts; best to make sure he wouldn’t lose these babies today, particularly if he got on to the treadmill. The last time that happened, Zita had smiled, rather too widely he thought. Zita, a French physiologist, was using him at that time as a guinea pig of sorts, testing his endurance and blood flow on the treadmill. While running at a fast pace, the shorts had come tumbling down to his knees. Embarrassed, he had tried to retrieve them, only to stumble and fall to one side of the treadmill. Still strapped to the treadmill, he was panting and unable to return to an upright position. Both humiliated and somewhat chagrined, he continued to struggle back to an upright position. Zita had laughed loudly, put down her kneepad and notes and reached a hand out to help him up. His Russian male ego somewhat bruised, he nevertheless returned, as directed, to the treadmill, once again under the watchful eye of Zita. She probably liked what she saw, he thought to himself. So today, alone in the room designed for such exercise, he would find some quiet time, without Zita. He struggled into the fastening straps on the floor of the module designed to force him to exercise legs that had become weak in space. He began his warm-up, then consistently worked up to a good sweat. Boy, that felt good, he thought, as he stepped up his pace and let his previously tight muscles do their work. Suddenly, without any warning, an explosion of light and flame roared through the module, blinding him. The sounds of alarms deafened him as he felt the painful sting of flying pieces of metal and plastic everywhere in the module. Once again, he felt himself stumble as before, but this time his fear level was beyond comprehension. God, where was that oxygen mask? I’ve got to find it right away, he thought as he fumbled everywhere for it. Meanwhile, red emergency lights continued to blink their warning. He knew the pressure was dropping; he also knew that oxygen alone would not save him. Once the pressure fell too low, his blood, normally regulated by the body at 98.6 º F., would boil. He must get out of that leaking module, quickly. But, the door had slammed shut and was apparently being held by the pressure differential. He was unable to force the door open with the hydraulic ram that had been installed for just such an event. Why was the hydraulic ram not working? He could see that the blood being sucked through the holes in the chamber was coming from his own body due to the many wounds inflicted by the flying debris. He was painfully aware that his injuries were serious. Touching his right leg, he could feel his femoral artery pounding, bulging out. His blood loss was beginning quickly. Hurry! His mind told him there was not much time left. He repeatedly attempted to activate the ram and the hatch mechanism. What the hell? he thought. What’s keeping it from opening? Still, the pressure kept dropping. He knew he didn’t have long. The pressure was agonizing, pulling at his ears. He struggled to stay conscious, knowing that if he lost consciousness, there would be no way to survive. Still, horns blared as his mind raced furiously, trying to sort out the well-trained maneuvers he knew almost instinctively for his survival. But, he found himself remembering his family, surprised that at this moment he would think of her, Natasha, his beautiful blond wife. He crossed over to a feeling of extreme peace at that moment, seeing her smile and remembering how her body felt warm with love and lust at the same time. She reached out her hands to him, beckoning him to stop his struggle and relax. He did so and he felt much better. As Nikolai exhaled his last breath and the blood vessels burst in his eyes, an unseen hand on the opposite side of the hatch reached up and released the override switch on the hydraulic ram. That went well, thought the intruder.