text: “You’ll find the air is rare out there.” She was spinning in the cafeteria. High above the blank-white tables and blood-red benches she spun slowly, singing an old pop song. “And no one cares, when you fail.” She wore half a life suit. The top half was just a tank top that clung to her breasts. “Because no one’s there, out in space, way out there.” Wine floated passed me, as I yelled “You need to come down. Use the ladder.” “Fuck.” She giggled. “You. I’m not scared of you.” “I’m the only one left. You’re drunk. It’s still in here. Come down.” It was a computer virus. It had taken over the entire station. It was on a warpath. “I’m safe up here. No doors. See.” She spread her arms out and waved them like she was flying. I assumed she had more than just the wine. “If it opens the air locks you won’t be.” I had a phone. I could look up everything that was going on inside. I could tell you where the air locks had open. I could tell you where doors had come down and bisected personnel. I could tell you where forklifts had run down crew. I could tell you which bloody messes were cleaned up and which were still floating around different bays and rooms. But I couldn’t tell you whether the phone was lying. “There is a meeting of general staff in the atrium. Please direct all personnel to the B wing. Thank you.” The virus interrupted from the intercom. A similar message appeared on my phone. “He’s at it again.” “You can’t kill me, I’m already dead.” I could only hope that she had taken enough of whatever to put her out for good. I could not leave a woman behind. But a dead woman would not bother my conscience one iota. “Briggs? Helena? There is a general meeting in B wing.” Another blast of the intercom with an old recording of the Captain. The projector turned on and blasted a bright glow of white against Helena as she spun in the air. It had been knocked off the table and now it was beaming a portrait of a meadow onto her. The virus spoke again. “Failure to meet in the B wing will result in fines.” “I’m a daisy!” Helena bleated. “There is no meeting in B wing. We are leaving the station. The station is being..FUCK, will you get down from there!” I yelled. I had put down most of my equipment and was ready to put on the rest of my suit. “There is no where to go! Where are you going to go? Out in the shuttle? See how far that takes you. You are out in outer space, silly! Besides, you’re just a cook!” She giggled again and then tried to catch butterflies that flew passed her on the projection. “I’m not giving up. The cook is probably dead. I’m Briggs. Now, there’s a station near here...” “Light years!” She screamed back. “It doesn’t matter. There is a distress beacon. It is POSSIBLE that they could be here in days. I have food, water, and tools. The doors are all safely disarmed. We have suits. It’s another twenty steps and we’re out of here. Now come down!” “You come get me.” “Alright!” I climbed out of my suit and began ascending the ladder. I could see her smile from some 100 feet above me. At the top, I made for her, but she floated passed me and murmured “Ah, ah, ah.” Looking down I could see the entire cafeteria. And then I saw the bodies. Two of them. One of them was the cook and the other was Helena. Both had been crushed against the floor. The cafeteria shook as the entire bay began to slowly spin, restoring the gravity.