Reverberations Null

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say.

But what are you screaming for anyway?

For loss of security? Of control? Of life?

There was plenty of screaming before everyone lost. And they could be heard then, there was no need to be in space yet. Air and water and earth happen to be fine mediums for sound waves. It's just that, those that should have, didn’t listen. Permanence became impermanence. The air and water and earth seemed permanent, in human perception, until they weren’t. Until doing nothing did a lot. Politics unfortunately remained permanent. Where humans go, so goes politics. And politics being politics led us all to homelessness, me to this loneliness, and the future perhaps to uncertainty.

It didn’t need to be this way, for humanity or me. My solitude however, in this case, is because I preferred such. We tolerated each other. I tolerated your arrogance and condescending banter. You tolerated my missing machismo, and greater intelligence. The latter you would not have admitted true, but bullies often act to counter their own weaknesses. Weakness you made apparent. It didn’t need to be this way.

Volunteers, there were none, and pickings thin thus we were voluntold to team up for this task. Why they thought a crew of two was enough to manage this goliath of a ship and its cargo was beyond me (still is). Regardless, we soon found ourselves initiating final departure. A fitting job for both of us I guess. For you because it put you in a position of control. Control of what the remaining bit of humanity would need. Me, because I have logistical experience and I care. Care maybe too much, not all aspects of humanity should persist.

Am I judge, jury, and executioner? Of your assholery, yes. Your expression of humanity was much the same as those that destroyed our home. Would you have chosen your last word, a screamed word, to be my name? Doubt it.

Your scream faded quickly with the encroaching vacuum. Some friendly advice, for your frozen drifting corpse; Don’t poorly treat your only crew mate then step into an air lock without a spacesuit. No matter how routine the task. In truth, I had not actually determined a plan for your demise. Though I knew one was needed because you are clever and would likely perceive my dislike forming into actionable hate. But when an irresistible opportunity presents itself especially when paired with a desired outcome, a plan quickly forms. Air lock maintenance accident will be the official record.

I maliciously watched you wonder, briefly, what I was tossing to you. Perhaps a tool or a replacement part for the air pressure control module. I waited for you to realize, turning it in your hands, that it was a safety transponder plucked from a ZeroAt suit. Then closed the inner door. My timing was perfect. You knew instantly why I gave it to you, to catch and hold and ponder no less. I already feel a sense of relief, your personality was intolerably oppressive. Your energy is now gone, infinitesimal in the vastness of the cosmos. Your physical form, the tiniest of specs in the darkness.

Now I’m a murderer with time (about what could be measured as an Earth month) to come to terms with it. And time to iterate on my story to hide it. What is time anymore anyway? Sure the ship’s systems operate on a cycle designed on Earth timing. But when alone with no sunrise or set, temporal discipline will certainly suffer. Humans will need a new temporal reference. No longer will we live under the rules of Earth’s rotation and lunar cycles. Once I join the others, worthy as they may or not be, I’ll know what time is again, although different. And as it passes, I’ll regain myself. Not a murderer, but Tobius or Tobi, as my new friends will call me. The guy that, despite the hardships of solo space flight, delivered the goods.