I-II. 336 HOURS
SOUNDSCAPE: THE DULL ELECTRONIC BUZZ OF THE OTHERWISE PLEASANT ESCAPE POD DRIFTING THROUGH THE VOID OF SPACE.
USER: Doug?
DOUG: (speaker) Yes, User.
MIKE: (correcting) Mike.
DOUG: (speaker) What was that, User?
MIKE: How long have I been bobbing about in space in this cramped, metal egg?
DOUG: (speaker) Evacuation protocols initiated approximately seven hours ago.
MIKE: How much longer till someone picks all of us up?
A SILENCE.
MIKE: Doug?
DOUG: (speaker) Scan complete.
MIKE: And?
A BEAT.
DOUG: (speaker) No ships within range.
MIKE: I’m going to die out here.
A LONGER, MORE UNCOMFORTABLE BEAT.
DOUG: (speaker) Life systems currently at 97-point-92-percent.
MIKE: Uh-huh. Well… Maybe we can use some of this time to work on your bedside manner, Doug.
DOUG: (speaker) My apologies… Mike.
MIKE: (smiles) Yeah. That’s a start.
FADE.
To be continued…