"Huh. Well, Squiddy, you know what? The both of us are headed into deep space with the Asteroid, not that you care anymore, but I do so let's see if I can still use your weird anti-gravity response to decelerate me, well, both of us, and get me down to Earth before I use up all my oxygen. Right?" He glanced up at this helmet indicators. "Oh good, the radio was turned off. No body to hear me talking to myself, and/or a defunct Space Squid. Just as well; nobody has the fuel to come and collect me. So I can die--or better yet not die--with dignity."
He used gravity dimples to maneuver himself and the squid around and hung on as he created a hole between himself and the squid. Balanced it so he was feeling maybe a fifth of a g down toward the squid and . . . he had no way to measure his velocity, which was still away from Earth, or distance, or how far it would take him to stop. Let alone get back, to Earth. And enter the atmosphere slowly and gently, at a velocity that an unprotected person could survive.
After a while he got out the tape and tied up all the tentacles into a bench he could sit on. Worked quite well, he could lean a bit and watch the Earth shrinking . . .
And awkwardly changed his oxygen bottle, the low Oxy alarm dinging as black crept in around the edges . . .
Six bottles to go. Plenty for as little time as I'll be decelerating. Really.
He reached and deepened his gravity hole.
Just in case. Because I'm going to need to enter the atmosphere very slowly.
He turned on the helmet radio and checked out the commercial stations . . . Everyone was in full freak out. Planes grounded, space debris being tracked and warnings going out for huge areas because there was so much, and it was spreading out, hadn't really been in an orbit, no idea of the size . . .
The higher latitudes had caught most of it, pieces of the asteroid traveling at well above escape velocity hitting the atmosphere, a light show from the Great Lakes region angling across Canada, Alaska and dying out over Siberia. The bomb debris, mostly, smaller bits of asteroid that had been blasted the other direction . . . reports of killer robot squids . . .
"Oh hell, that's not good." He scowled and changed frequencies. USSF ship-to-ship and ship-to-ground channels were busy. Four space planes from various polities were in orbit, and trying to find anything large enough to survive reentry . . . two repairing impact damage prior to reentry.
"Oh yeah. That's always fun."
"Say again Twenty-three?"
Oops! Time to shut up . . . unless I want to hitch a ride . . .
"Sorry, spoke off mic. We've spotted five more decelerating objects. Tracking and mapping out their reentry and land-fall locations."
Oh really? Are the squids doing like I'm doing? Well, with their own anti-gravity levitation thing.
He looked at the Earth and sighed. I think it's stopped shrinking. Now I need to get back there.