Air's almost gone. Shit. Morrison had tried to keep his breathing shallow to extend the time he had left, but it still seemed to have run out far sooner than he'd expected.

"So," he said yet again, "found anything yet?"

"No," Luana's reply came from the speaker on the wall behind him. "The fog out here is so thick, I can't see more than two feet in front of me. I'm still using my ultratool to find doorways and passages, but it's not picking up anything else."

"Damn." He rubbed the back of his head, but it didn't ease the ache that had started a while ago. "I'm sorry, Luana, but I think it's almost time for me to sign off. I don't want you to hear what's about to happen."

A sob came from the speaker, followed by a long silence. Then, finally: "I can't. I don't want you to go."

He chuckled softly, but it turned into a brief coughing fit. Once he had himself back under control, he said, "I don't want to go, either. I just don't see any way out of it."

"Henry, I …" She took a breath, let it out slowly. "I love you."

"We barely know each other." He managed a small smile. "I must've fucked you silly." He winced. Why'd I say that? Must be lack of oxygen. I need to shut up before I piss her off.

She burst out laughing but continued weeping at the same time. "Yeah, that was great, but it's not why I feel this way. I can't even put it into words, I just … do."

"Wow. Well, I wish we could've had more time together. What we did have was wonderful." Ah, hell, why not just say it? "I love you, too. Goodbye."

He reached up and fumbled around for the off switch, and after a few seconds, he realized that he'd slumped over on the floor at some point and never noticed it until now. He shook his head and tried to push himself upright, but suddenly he wasn't sure what direction "upright" was.

CLANG!

"Yaaaaah!" He lurched backward and slammed his head against the wall.

"Henry? What happened? Are you … oh, shit, are you …?"

"Dunno. Think something hit the shuttle." He rubbed the back of his head again. "Or maybe I'm hallucinating."

The lights came back on, blinding him for a moment. He squinted and shielded his eyes with his hand.

The rear door slid open. Morrison lunged away from it, scooting back until he bumped into the cockpit door. "Fuck!"

Wind hit his face, air rushing into the compartment. He clamped his mouth shut and held his breath, but realized it was futile since his oxygen was gone, anyway.

Huh. No fog.

He frowned at the darkness beyond the open hatch.

Oh, fuck it. Might as well get it over with. He opened his mouth and inhaled deeply, hoping his last breath wouldn't hurt much.

Nothing happened. He released the breath and drew in another. Again, nothing -- no pain, no suffocating, no rupturing lungs, nothing out of the ordinary at all. He fell forward, plopping onto the deck, and kept sucking in gasps of air. When he'd finally recovered, he rolled onto his back and said, "Luana, can you still hear me?"

"Yes!" Her voice was frantic, almost hysterical. "Henry …"

"I'm okay. Something opened the door, and now the atmosphere's breathable."

"What?" She let out a long sigh and started crying again. "How?"

"Hell if I know. Can't see anybody out there." He pushed himself up and leaned against the wall until he was sure his wobbling legs would hold him up. "The atmosphere changed, just like the gravity came on after we landed in here. There's no fog anymore, but it's dark out there." He stepped forward and rested his right hand on his gun. "I'm gonna take a look."

"I'm on my way back. Wait for -- what the hell? The door's gone."

"What?"

"The door I came through a few seconds ago -- it's gone! It's like the corridor sealed itself behind me. It's not like the door closed, the door's completely gone. Like it never existed."

Morrison stopped at the doorway, frowned, and drew his gun. "You starting to get the feeling somebody's just fuckin' with us?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

He took one more step and planted his left hoof on the solid metal deck surrounding the shuttle. "Hold on. I'll find you."