The Shape Of Goodbye We Never Practiced

The indicator turned from amber to blank and did not reset. The system accepted the change without comment. The room stayed lit. The silence felt earned.

Systems Linguist Ada Miren Kessler stood with her fingertips resting against the console as if the surface might still be warm from the words that had passed through it. The air smelled faintly of paper and ozone from the translation core behind her. The last phrase she had been decoding ended mid structure. Not broken. Simply unfinished.

She did not close the file.

A soft sound came from the doorway where someone had stopped instead of entering.

Rafael Tomas Lin watched her from a careful distance with one hand hooked around the door frame. His name existed in her thoughts the way it appeared in crew rosters and authorization logs. Full. Exact. A boundary she could lean against without falling.

It did not complete he said.

She shook her head once.

The research vessel continued its slow drift along the edge of the signal cloud. Outside the viewport the phenomenon glimmered faintly like breath on glass. The pattern had been repeating for decades until now. The end of it looked the same as the beginning.

They returned to work because language still needed order and systems still needed tending. Ada archived the partial translation with notes stripped of interpretation. Rafael ran stability checks on the core that no longer received input. Their movements were quiet and synchronized from long familiarity.

Hours passed unnoticed. The ship dimmed for night cycle. The glow from the cloud softened and spread. Ada sat alone in the translation bay listening to the hum of processors cooling. She pressed her tongue lightly against the roof of her mouth where certain sounds lived. Some meanings did not survive silence.

On the eighth cycle a feedback surge rattled the core and sent a brief vibration through the deck. Ada startled and reached out. Rafael was there immediately steadying the console with one hand and her wrist with the other. His grip was firm and careful.

You are safe he said.

She nodded though the word felt inaccurate.

They did not speak about the contact afterward but something adjusted between them. Meals became shared. They sat across from each other at the narrow table watching condensation gather on their cups. Conversation wandered into memory. A library Ada remembered where the floor creaked under the weight of books. A rooftop Rafael remembered where radio signals came in clearer at night. These places no longer existed as they had been. Saying them aloud did not bring them back. It changed them anyway.

Waiting altered the shape of time. The mission had shifted into long term observation of an absence. Ada found herself listening for Rafael steps when she moved between compartments. Rafael noticed the way Ada paused before deleting anything as if listening for permission.

The alert arrived without urgency. Hull stress along the forward ring. Containment would hold briefly. One escape shuttle remained functional. Its trajectory could intersect a deep space relay if launched at a narrow window. It could carry one person.

They reviewed the data together standing close enough to share heat. The numbers did not argue. Neither did they.

It should be you Rafael said quietly.

Ada looked at the translation core glowing softly behind them. Agreement felt like a word she did not want to learn.

The final hours passed gently. Ada walked through the vessel touching the edges of consoles and door frames memorizing their textures. Rafael followed without crowding her presence constant and unforced. Outside the cloud thinned and lost definition.

In the launch bay the shuttle waited open and patient. Ada turned to him.

Say it she said.

He spoke her full name carefully as if it might break. Systems Linguist Ada Miren Kessler.

The name sounded like a version of herself she was leaving behind. She stepped into the shuttle.

The hatch closed. The separation was smooth. The vessel receded into the cloud.

As the shuttle moved away Ada rested her palm against the glass. The signal space faded into quiet geometry. She did not look back.

Far behind her Rafael Tomas Lin remained aboard the research vessel watching the cloud dissolve into nothing that could be measured. The hum of systems continued until it did not.

Some meanings were never finished.

They remained anyway.