My Star by Christine Gasbjerg

gasses around it, so at a distance it appears light red or pink, rather than red. There are lots of beautiful minerals and raw gemstones here too. I look around and take in the view of the planet. It really is a beautiful place.
    I see... Does it have dark holes? Judging from the tone of the voice, it sounds like a plan is starting to form.
    Oh yes, it has black holes too... do you know it?
    Yes.
    Have you been here? I begin to feel a bit excited, maybe they can save me.
    Yes. A very long time ago. Never mind that now. Go to the holes.
    You want me to go back to the holes?
    Yes. A slight air of impatience penetrates the tone of the voice.
    Why? I’m rolling onto my belly to get up more easily. It’s still very clumsy, but it gets me on my feet quicker.
    There’s oxygen in the air in the dark holes. Go there and you’ll have the oxygen you need. Mind you, I’ll lose you when you move away.
    I freeze. I’m not ready to let go of my intangible friend just yet... my light in the darkness.
    What will I do? I feel panic starting to surface.
    Just breathe the air in the holes.
    Then what will I do? I fight feelings of helplessness. It’s not time to be strong.
    It’s up to you. The voice sounds calm–like it’s just a piece of cake.
    I look down myself. Of course! The green smudge is the clue! Oxygen is required for any kind of vegetation to grow. Where there’s even the smallest trace of vegetation, there’ll be oxygen. And most of the vegetation I know is green... why didn’t I think of that when I saw my green smudged suit? Hooray!
    Will I speak to you again? I still feel a little anxious to lose my companion already.
    Perhaps. Go! The voice sounds encouraging.
     I’m reenergized by the prospect of having access to oxygen, and get going in my clumsy chicken-suit-way... Humpty Dumpty bumbling over the red sandy surface of the pink planet. Yippie!
    My gigantic love diamond from Kurt is still lying there, waiting for me, by the black hole I fell into. It makes me smile and feel warm, as if I’m rejoining a long lost friend.
    I climb back into the hole, and turn off the oxygen supply to my suit. I hesitate for a moment. Do I really believe there’s oxygen here?
    If there isn’t any oxygen, I’ll die. If I don’t try this, I’ll still die in a little while. What have I got to lose?
    I touch the uneven sides of the hole, and stick my hand out of the hole into the light for one last check. It’s all smudged in a fresh green color—there are even little fragments of what might be plants. It seems plausible that there’s oxygen.
    I loosen the transparent safety visor on the helmet of my suit. For the first moment, I can’t feel any difference. Then a terrible smell hits my nostrils. It’s so bad that my eyes water... It smells like gas. Or badass fart! I’m breathing fart!
    I can already see the headlines— Breathing Fart Saved Her Life!
    But it’s breathable.
    I’m so relieved I laugh out loud.
    I notice that the air above all the holes is changing when it gets dark. As a scientist at heart, I experiment a little with breathing in the air above the holes too. It turns out that once it’s dark around me on the planet, I can get out of the hole, and breathe in the night air. Thus I can walk on the surface of the planet at night. I reckon it’s some kind of gravity field from space, that creates this ‘ebb and flow’ of breathable air. Like when the moon attracts the water on Earth—so does some moon or planet, that I can’t make out, attract the breathable air during the night, here on the pink planet. But of course, I’m only guessing. It might be something else that’s causing these tidal gasses. I just know how it works around me. Hence, I cannot breathe above the holes when it’s daytime—only at night.
    I’m saving the remainder of the oxygen in the tank for a ‘rainy day’. There’s less than half an hour’s worth of oxygen in it. I can still fill the suit with smelly air, and walk around