by David Neuhoff
The last globule of water floated and pulsed as he gently rotated the bulb in his hand. Savoring the moment, Will closed his eyes and slowly squeezed the contents of the bulb into his mouth and swallowed. With a sigh, he tossed the empty bulb over his shoulder to join the rest of the floating debris littering the Hab.
"That's the last of it. It's just you and me now," lamented Will.
"The mission was originally 3 years. Supplies had to run out at some point," remarked his companion.
"Has there been any contact?"
"None since the Event."
Will frowned at the casual reference to just "the Event", yet understood that his companion was attempting to spare him added worry.
Present circumstances permit release of the contingency supplies...if you concur."
Will closed his eyes and considered this. The time had come. He nodded. A small compartment opened, revealing a bottle of wine along with two glasses. Will smiled wryly and asked "Spin the Hab, please."
As the Hab gained speed, the constellation of debris swirled and slowly fell to the walls. In time, the illusion of gravity was complete, permitting Will to pour himself a glass, pause for a moment, then carefully fill the other and slide it toward his companion.
Will savored his glass, then issued his last command, “Terminate life support systems, please.”
"Goodbye, Will." his companion responded, shortly before shutting down its processing core.
The companion’s glass remained untouched.