Moonlight

The edge of space sure was a beautiful place to die.

Jake unbuckled his harness and floated above his seat, pressing forward to look out the small spacecraft’s reinforced glass canopy. Far below him, the surface of Europa — one of Jupiter’s ninety-five moons — was a cracked marble of pale blue and white. His home for the past two and a half years, though, thankfully, not his final resting place.

The gravitational storm he’d passed through had taken all his systems offline, making it impossible for him to radio for help. Not that anyone could reach him, anyway. Caught in Europa’s orbit, he’d spend his final hours circling the moon before his air was gone and he’d gradually lose consciousness. Not how he thought he’d go out, but it was better than the alternative of freezing to death on the surface.

On the bright side, it meant he got to spend his final moments in peace. It made a nice change from the deep pinging seismic hum that perforated every square inch of the research station and every waking moment he’d spent there.

Jake turned on the audio deck — the only piece of equipment low powered enough to survive the storm, and the sound of light piano music filled the silence of the cockpit. Clair de lune.

Classical music had never been his thing, but there was something about that one that stuck him to the spot and got inside his pores. He hummed softly along. Time became a contradiction: each second lasting an eternity; each hour passing in a blink.

He peered through the glass again. Somewhere down there was the remains of their research station, cracked open by the mother of all icequakes. The gravitational storm from Jupiter’s massive tidal force had given them no time to call for help. No time for a proper evacuation. The choice: die quickly on the ground, or slowly in the sky.

The sun was in partial eclipse, hidden behind Jupiter’s bulk, but the sliver of the moon that was still illuminated sparkled like a pale desert at sunrise.

His humming became irregular, interrupted by long, shallow breaths, and as his eyes lost focus and began to dim, he had one final realisation. The translation of Clair de lune: Moonlight.