Outer Space Adventure Saga, Chapter 9

Griffin awoke to a strange sensation. He opened his eyes, looked down, and screamed.

He was 150 miles above Xenith and falling, and he suddenly couldn't remember how in the hell he had gotten there. Far, far below him was the dark green shape of the Ruthinyx Continent, separated from him by nothing but a thin layer of swirling clouds. He grabbed the controls for his jetpack, but one hand slipped and he was rapidly whirling. There was nothing to cling to and he knew he was dead. He flailed in his panic, screaming and spinning in a wild gyration. In his confusion, he saw nothing but the flashing of black night and green planet.  He exhausted his breath in a wheezing whimper of hopelessness, and there was silence. He felt like he was floating, instead of free falling.

"Wait..."

Everything fell into place as his brain finally snapped the rest of the way into consciousness. Then he vomited in his spacesuit. 

Or he would have, if he'd had anything to eat in the last two days. Only a pink sparkling trickle of slobber escaped, then smacked against his face and left a trail of tiny droplets across the inside of his helmet. Griffin slammed his eyes shut and tried to shut down the wave of nausea that had just overcome him.  He wrestled down his fear along with the nausea and tried to remember where he was. The junk belt. He was escaping.  How long had he slept? Surely he'd have continued to drift weightlessly along as he dozed. Where was he now? Was he falling?! The panic leapt into his throat again, and he choked it down. He opened his eyes, then quickly closed them again. He was still spinning, but now that he wasn't (completely) overcome with terror, he cleared his throat and told the suit's computer (a nice and sane robotic interface) to engage auto-stabilization. The jets began firing in a complicated sequence, and the merry-go-round feeling gradually subsided. He waited until he thought he was safe from retching again, and cautiously opened his eyes. 

On his right was the intimidating presence of the planet, to his left and above him was the long trail of glittering garbage. He actually had drifted towards the planet, but was only 20 meters or so away from the main body of the belt. His oxygen gauge was blinking red. Not much longer then. 

He sat in the silence for just a moment before a small fountain of sparks illuminated the floating rocks and garbage and then faded away. It had come from somewhere within the debris field. Griffin couldn't directly see the source, but he felt hope reignite within him. He carefully grasped both controls to the maneuvering jets and propelled himself into the unknown yet again.

"Otis?" He asked timidly as he slowly crossed the distance. There were plenty of moving parts in the orbital trash heap, and he didn't want to get hit by a bus on his way to freedom, however uncertain that freedom was.

There was a long static-filled electronic gurgle that somehow sounded exasperated before Otis replied properly and with all the sarcasm he appeared to have saved up while Griffin had slept.

"Wonderful. I'm so happy you woke up now, before I could finish working in peace. Could you just pretend your mouth is still asleep?"

"I never thought I'd say this, but it's great to hear your voice, Otis. What are you working on now?"

"That would be a no on sleep mouth, then?"

"Sorry, but I've only got a couple hours left. Do you know where those engines drifted...   Oh."

Griffin floated between a twisted chunk of metal and a blob of nasty looking goop, where he had glimpsed another flash of light a moment before. Once through, he could see into a clearing of sorts, an area in the shifting wastes where there was some open space. Near the middle of the hollow was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.