Things Unspoken

He sealed the door from within the cargo bay, a cold, impenetrable barrier leaving Commander Jimenez speechless. She stared through the plate glass porthole, her gaze locked onto Captain Duarte, who took laborious breaths, drawing life from the dwindling oxygen reserves of the faltering life support systems. The Neknur floated in the unforgiving expanse of space, its life support systems in shambles, particularly within the sealed-off cargo hold. Captain Duarte made the ultimate sacrifice, a testament to his unwavering determination to safeguard his remaining crew. Powerless, the crew beheld their leader as he succumbed to the inevitable.

“Captain,” Jimenez reined in her emotions, her voice trembling with desperation. “We must find a way to rescue you.”

“You understand doing so would imperil us all,” Duarte’s voice quivered, transmitted through the overhead speakers—their only means of connection in this dire moment. “Opening this door would spell doom for every soul on board. It must remain sealed from within. We have no alternative and no time for anything else.”

Jimenez clenched her fists, her anger and despair boiling over. “You should have granted us more time to seek a solution!”

“Pull yourself together!” Duarte snapped, his voice carrying an urgency that drained more of his precious energy than he intended. His eyes bore the weight of profound regret as they locked onto Mara through the porthole. “You’re in charge now.”

The Neknur bore the scars of a harrowing collision with space debris, transforming the once-majestic vessel into a drifting object lost amidst the cosmic rubble. It moved languidly through the void, its distress beacon a desperate plea for help, whether from human or alien hands (although contact with aliens was yet to occur, if ever). The distance to the nearest base loomed insurmountable, an abyss of drift and despair — until the Captain made his resolute decision. The rest of the crew owed their lives to his sacrifice.

“The collision created too many breaches, Mara. We didn’t have sufficient time to seal them all. We’re a mere skeleton crew aboard an antiquated ship. We lacked the proper equipment, and sealing this door from your position outside the cargo bay was impossible. It couldn’t be done in the manner needed from there. You understand this, and so do the rest of the crew,” Duarte’s breaths grew labored with each spoken word.

Mara Jimenez longed to cry out, to hold him, to convey the depth of her feelings. Aboard this civilian ship, their dynamic remained that of a family - a husband and wife. She represented more than his first-in-command. Over the years, much was left unspoken. Mara relied on the foolish and unwavering belief that tomorrow would always come.

“Why didn’t you give me more time?” It was the only question she summoned the strength to ask.

Duarte’s eyes grew heavier as he gasped for breath. “You shouldn’t be here for this,” he whispered, sinking to the cargo hold’s floor, perched on the ship’s outer rim. “I need to sit down now,” he muttered, his voice faltering. “Don’t watch me die. I don’t want you to witness it. The pain of it - it would be too much.”

“It’s already excruciating.” Tears flowed as she pressed her hand against the glass. With a sudden surge of frustration, she struck the tempered glass with a fierce fist, her knuckles splitting open, a trickle of blood staining the see-through barrier. “Damn you!”

Memories inundated her consciousness — a time when they still walked the Earth, their dreams of venturing among the stars mere possibilities. They had been so young, so brimming with hope for the boundless future that awaited them, anticipating the adventures ahead.

Captain Duarte, youthful and eager, gazed at his long-time lover as they stood in the backyard of their newly acquired country abode, their eyes locked on the stars above. “What kind of ship do you think suits a guy like me?”

“You can make any ship work, babe. That’s why you’re destined to be an amazing captain,” Mara smiled, her voice tinged with affection. “I just want the opportunity to conduct our research and set everything in motion.”

“No need to fret over that. Our chance will come,” he assured her. “I can hardly wait, Mara. I’m eager to journey among the stars with you by my side and a capable crew to support us. Who knows what awaits us in the vast expanse of the cosmos? Endless possibilities.”

Duarte turned to her with an indelible smile.

“Hopefully, we’ll uncover more solutions than questions. Maybe even lay our hands on that elusive Nobel Prize we’ve daydreamed about,” she chuckled. Winning such a prestigious award seemed far-fetched, but in the recesses of her mind, she couldn’t help but entertain the possibility. After all, their research was poised to be at the cutting edge of discovery.

Mara’s fingers traced the porthole; each touch reminded Mara of their journey, echoing every step leading to this pivotal moment. Both of them understood their unspoken feelings, yet fear kept their emotions buried beneath the weight of their work. This pattern defined their relationship, always leaving their state of mind unspoken, submerged in the relentless pursuit of their mission. They found solace in their work, immersing themselves in endless theories and discussions, avoiding the uncharted territory of their hearts.

The perils of space were as genuine as they came, even for civilian space crews. In the unknown expanse, anything could happen, often resulting in the unexpected loss of comrades. Bonds were forged, but attachment was a luxury they couldn’t afford. It was a lesson Mara Jimenez failed miserably at this juncture in her life.

“Do you remember... the first time I laid eyes on you?” His voice trembled. Every word became a struggle as he wiped the sweat from his forehead, his hand making a feeble sound as it met the metal floor.

“Yes. I was wandering on campus, lost in thought. It was during my first week, and I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings. I tripped over someone lying on the grass.” Tears flowed from her eyes as she reminisced, a mixture of laughter and grief.

“More like crashed onto me,” he managed a chuckle, his breaths growing shallower. “It hurt like hell when you landed.”

“You shouldn’t have been lounging in the middle of a walking path,” she chided, futilely attempting to wipe away the tears. “It was your own fault, you know.”

“I’m glad it happened.” It grew more difficult to smile.

Mara nodded. “Me too.” She continued. “I remember the first time I saw you in uniform. CryoTech’s maiden civilian space fleet. You looked incredibly handsome,” she recalled, an image etched in her mind of Tom Duarte emerging from the bathroom in the early morning light, clad in the blue uniform. He had been leaner back then, and the two-piece attire hugged his masculine form to perfection. He embodied the ideal of what CryoTech aimed to achieve.

CryoTech... S.A.M. The mission.

Mara clung to the memory of the first time she saw him in that uniform.

CryoTech... S.A.M. The mission.

Still clad in the nightgown from the previous evening, Mara rushed towards Tom and leaped into his waiting arms, her face lighting up with an affectionate grin. “Hey, handsome. I’ve always carried a soft spot for a man in uniform.”

Tom returned her smile. “What can I say? I clean up nice,”

She slapped his cheek with playfulness as he set her down. “Don’t get too cocky.”

Tom soaked in the image of her from head to toe. “I can’t wait to see you in yours.”

Mara chuckled, her playful demeanor giving way to a touch of uncertainty. “Well, I have received no official invitation to join the crew, and CryoTech hasn’t offered me a position either.”

“You’ll have a position,” Tom reassured her, eyeing himself in a full-length mirror. “I requested you.”

“The request guarantees nothing, babe.” Mara sighed, perching herself back on the bed. “Doesn’t it even trouble you that CryoTech is bankrolling this entire venture?”

Tom considered her question. “No, why should it?”

“They’re a global conglomerate responsible for S.A.M., pioneers in perfecting A.I. as we know it. Their primary business revolves around cryogenically preserving people in suspended animation for extended periods. What’s their vested interest in space exploration? Do you even trust this S.A.M. program that’s integrated into every facet of SMART technology?” She let the thoughts troubling her spill out without regard for consequence.

“S.A.M. has improved life for most of us. The ones who are willing to accept it that is. As for what CryoTech’s plans... Who knows, hon? My first guess would be colonization. The idea of escaping Mother Earth doesn’t seem all that bad. And if things go well, there’s a fortune to be made. CryoTech has a knack for such ventures. Their expertise in cryogenic preservation will enable ships to traverse vast distances without the crew aging and succumbing before they reach their destination. We may be children of Earth, but eventually, every mother has to let go.” Tom quoted CryoTech’s space travel slogan, fully aware that it irritated Mara.

“The events unfolding, don’t they bother you?” she probed. “Isn’t it troubling that a conglomerate like CryoTech is currently running world governments? People wishing to remain independent have made it clear they want nothing to do with artificial intelligence known as S.A.M.”

“Are you referring to the terrorist groups rising as of late?” Tom inquired.

Mara sighed. “I suppose you could call them that.”

“What else would you call them? They target CryoTech and S.A.M. facilities. Innocent lives have been lost in their attacks. The global police force is justified in locking them up without too many questions. That’s my take.” He freely admitted.

Mara couldn’t help but ponder about S.A.M. Is this artificial intelligence any less of a threat than those opposing it?

“You didn’t look shabby the first time I saw you in uniform either. But then again, you’ve always looked good wearing anything. You’ve always been beautiful,” Tom’s words interrupted her thoughts, bringing her back to the painful reality aboard the Neknur.

“Save your strength, Tom,” she whispered. It was the first time she had used his first name in ages. Throughout their service on the ship, she had grown accustomed to addressing him as Captain Duarte, only occasionally using his last name during the intimate moments in their private cabin.

“There’s nothing left to save. There was so much I wanted to say... I never found the right words,” Tom declared with a herculean effort. He rose and moved to the plate glass porthole, gazing upon Mara one last time. Their eyes locked, and Mara’s deep brown eyes were precisely what he wished to hold on to during his final moments.

“Tom...” she whispered.

“I’m glad, in my last moments, I can take comfort in knowing you’ll be okay.” He pushed his remaining strength into the brightest smile he could muster.

With those words, Tom’s body fell to the cold steel floor of the cargo hold. His breaths grew fainter, and his eyes rolled back. The proud Captain Tom Duarte was reduced to an empty vessel, no longer fueled by the passions of life. The void he left behind weighed on Mara as she beheld his lifeless form becoming just another inanimate object in the cargo hold.

“I love you,” the words escaped Mara’s lips as she gazed upon his body. No more tears streamed down her cheeks, and no more sobs racked her body. A profound numbness engulfed her, a sensation like no other, settling into every fiber of her being.

Over the speakers, the voice of one of her bridge officers interrupted her reverie. “Commander Jimenez, the Chief wants to share her plans on how to proceed with rerouting power.”

The numbness consumed her.

“Commander Jimenez?” The bridge officer’s voice cracked through the speakers again.

“Tell the Chief I’ll be there shortly.” Duty beckoned, lives hung in the balance, and her role allowed no time for mourning. There would be ample time for grief once they returned to Earth.

As she traversed the corridor, thoughts of their precious cargo occupied her mind. Tom’s closeness to her made him oblivious to the smuggling onboard the Neknur.

The rise of S.A.M. disturbed the balance of power across the world. A unified government under the control of the mighty artificial intelligence dictated every aspect of human life. She was one of the few who fought against such mindless control. Little by little, the cold calculations of the machine entity stripped away humanity. It sought to protect, but by doing so, it removed choice.

Choice is what makes us who we are. Mara thought. She had chosen to fight for a free humanity and used her status in CryoTech as a means to an end.

The device would be implemented as a countermeasure. Its construction took place on the dark side of the moon. A long-forgotten colony outpost now served as a home base to the people seeking to be released from S.A.M.’s grasp.

We’re using a program integrated with an actual human mind to fight a program created by humans. Mara prayed it was the correct decision. If all went well, the two monstrosities would annihilate one another. What they carried onboard the Neknur would serve to corrupt and dismantle S.A.M. once and for all.

Tom was next to it the entire time. He didn’t even understand why I wanted to ensure the breach was sealed. It wasn’t to save the crew. I wanted to ensure the modified suspended animation module didn’t get blown into space. We need it. The guilt intensified, but she fought it back. Tom was one life compared to the billions doomed to S.A.M. Once connected to the network S.A.M. controlled, the human mind connected to the module and the rogue A.I. would attack, hopefully taking S.A.M. by surprise.

CryoTech... S.A.M. The mission.

Relief washed over her as she contemplated the potential salvation it offered against the looming threat of S.A.M.

CryoTech... S.A.M. The mission.

Tom never uncovered her true motives, and now he never would. He would never know that she was taking desperate measures to ensure the survival of their unborn child.

I never told him; she fought back the guilt with cold determination. Pregnancy in space was not uncommon with the long tours and mixed crews, but it also presented a unique set of dangers.

CryoTech... S.A.M. The mission.

She was fighting for their unborn child. Mara learned of the pregnancy two days prior. She had meant to tell him. She always wanted the time to be right. Now, there was no more time.

CryoTech... S.A.M. The mission.

In the eyes of the global police force, she was branded a terrorist, but in her own heart, she viewed herself as a patriot and champion of a free humanity - one no longer under the pressing hand of S.A.M.

To Tom – to the memory of their relationship – it all fell under the category of things unspoken.