Part 1: The Long Fall

"Space… is big," Wheatley said slowly, staring out across the starry vastness that surrounded him, letting the words sink in. "Really big. You just won't believe how vastly, hugely, mindbogglingly big it is. I mean, you may think it's a long way down the road to the chemist's, but that's just peanuts to space." He paused. "I heard that on the radio once. Something about hitchhikers, and towels or something. Yeah." He glanced at his companion. "You'd have liked it. There's a lot about space."

"SPACE!"

"Yeah."

He gazed down at the planet that had once been their home—he'd never seen much of it, but he found himself missing it all the same. He wondered what those great wide oceans were like up close, and whether Earth mountains were anything like the crater crags of the moon. He wondered how many humans were left down there, if any at all.

He wondered if she was alive. He wondered if she ever thought of him.

They were over Asia now. At least, his internal charts said it was called Asia. From here he could see the Himalayas, the islands of Japan, even the hair-thin line that was what remained of the Great Wall of China. Looked more like an Alright Wall of China, really, at least from here. Dinky little thing. Barely visible.

Except… it looked a bit more visible than before.

That couldn't be right. Quickly, he pulled up the images from their last time around the orbit and compared them to what he was seeing now—yes, the little dark line was definitely growing more distinct. He ran some scans and calculations in his head, and rapidly reached a conclusion. They were in fact closer to Earth than they had been. Because their orbit had deteriorated. And was continuing to do so, at an increasing and unstoppable rate.

Wheatley made an uneasy throat-clearing noise. "So I've got some news, mate—our orbit is deteriorating. Rather fast, actually. Which means that within a, uh, relatively short time, we will be hurtling uncontrollably through the Earth's atmosphere in a giant screaming ball of fire, in which we will most probably die. And any charred remains will hit the ground very hard, with some sort of sickening crash, I imagine. So there's that."

"Crash?"

"Yeah, crash."

"Space crash. From space. Flying through space, space flying. Going to Earth. Wanna go to Earth. Earth. Earth. Earth. Earth."

"Yeah, mate, we'll get to Earth. But, uh, you seem to be forgetting the fiery screaming death part. And then of course the crash."

"Crash. Earth. Ka-PSHH. Earth. Earth. Earth."

This went on for a while.

"Earth. Earth. Earth. Earth. EarthEarthEarthEarth—"

Wheatley had had enough. "YES! Yes, we are going to Earth! We are also going to die! I don't know if you've got that through your thick metal hull, but—"

"WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

And then Wheatley noticed they were falling. The transition from a close orbit to an actual fall was gradual, but they'd made it, he was certain. He became very much aware of the weighty feeling caused by gravity pulling them in. Hurtling through space, plummeting down towards the planet's surface, with no way to stop—he looked down at the Earth below and felt suddenly sick. "I'm gonna die."

It was strange to stare death in the face. He'd had close calls before, of course—escaping the crumbling Relaxation Center, leaving his management rail, using his flashlight, and that moment during their final awful confrontation when he'd thought she was going to kill him—but head on like this, with no escape… It was sobering. This was going to be a long fall.

He looked over at the Space Sphere beside him. Poor little bloke didn't even understand what was happening, really. He was annoying as hell, but Wheatley had grown a bit fond of him. He didn't deserve to end like this. Neither of them did.

Well. Maybe that wasn't quite true.

"Oi, Space mate?"

"SPACE!"

"I'm sorry I got you into this, pal. I wish it didn't have to end this way."

"Space! Space falling! Going to Earth! EARTH! EarthEarthEarth!"

Well, at least the little guy wasn't scared.

Wheatley gazed back at the ground and felt his insides twist with fright. The atmosphere slowed their fall, but under its friction he could feel his hull heating up, his heat sensors registering the climbing number like a countdown clock—1500—1800—2000 Kelvin, there was no way he could survive this—

"We'regonnadiewe'regonnadiewe'regonnadie—"

He squeezed his optic shut, trying in vain to let his mind go blank. Over the sound of air rushing past him, he heard his own panicked screaming, and the exhilarated whoop of the Space Sphere beside him:

"We'regonnadiewe'regonnadieWE'REGONNADIE—"

"Yeeeeeeeeeehaaaaaaaaaaw!"

And then he plunged into sudden cold darkness.

.

A/N: The quote that Wheatley heard on the radio is from The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, by Douglas Adams. His comment about the Great Wall of China is lifted from Karl Pilkington on An Idiot Abroad.