Chapter Text
Grace isn’t very hard to read. Eva has never been the best at comprehending the gray areas of human emotion, but there are some people who are just easy to comprehend. Grace’s rejections of the job offer were halfhearted. Most of his reluctance came from the same emotions that formed reactions to getting a wonderful present. Oh my god, you shouldn’t have! It’s too much! Really, I can’t accept this!
But he does accept. Because he really wants this. It’s in his eyes, his bright shining eyes. Like a child seeing a man in a Santa outfit. Except this time, the aliens are real.
He accepts on the condition that he gets to meet them first. When asked, the aliens don’t seem to mind. Anything to gain human trust. You help us. We help you. Understand each other.
Eva stopped answering his barrage of questions about an hour ago, so Grace’s rambling speculation was mostly for himself. He falls silent as her hand settles on the door, as the odd mix of sterile yet warm air hits them. An adjusted lab, painfully bright and piled high with scientific equipment of both Earth and now another planet.
The rumble of movement announces their presence before either human sees them. Angular spheres roll out from the cover of the tables. The smaller of the two is much faster, practically bouncing along as it veers around them, startling Grace into backing right into her.
His hands are shaking. Violent, noticeable tremors that could’ve been from terror had it not been for the sparkle in his eyes. Eva slips the translation tablet into his hand and pushes him forward, both encouragingly and to keep him from crushing her against the door.
She hadn’t met the aliens directly yet. Really, she was only put in this position because of the constant bickering of world powers when it came to the details of the matter. The videos didn’t serve them justice, creatures unlike anything she’s seen before. The roughly pentagonal shape of their forms split them naturally into fives. Five faces to their primary body, five limbs sprouting from it. The clatter of their stony legs against the solid surfaces of their ball is not necessarily loud, but an attention demanding sort of noise.
This is the smaller one, she knows, with its noticeably flatter primary body and muddy brown tones of its “skin.” It has items on its person, some type of clothing made of dull green material and strapped with what she can assume are pockets bulging with tools. This was the engineer, wasn’t it?
The melodic tones of its voices play, some mix of a theremin, ocarina, and fantastical instrument from a franchise like Star Wars or Star Trek. The tablet screen lights up with the rough translation their linguists had cobbled together.
“Greet, Earth life!”
Grace opens his mouth and she thinks he might want to respond. Instead, he lets out a warbling sort of noise. A dying bird would be less dramatic. Yes yes, intelligent aliens. We’ve been over this.
“Apologies,” Eva sighs. “He’s in shock.”
“New thing. Excite! Amaze!” Despite such a great cultural divide, their expressions of excitement seem to translate well. The alien can’t sit still, tumbling over and over in its protection pod and seemingly trying to keep itself from ramming eagerly into their shins.
“Amazing!” Grace manages to squawk out, knuckles white with his grip on the tablet. His knees give out then, dropping him closer to the alien’s level. Despite their weight– according to their current research– and the size of their ship, they’re on the shorter side for alien life speculation.
The being halts its movements in front of him, seemingly eager to be so up close and personal with life alien to its own. Grace raises his hand awkwardly, as if wanting to touch it, and the creature copies his movements. A wide grin pulls at his stubbled cheeks, bright and ecstatic.
“Scientist, question?” The alien asks.
Eva recalls the linguists’ notes about their speech patterns, intent of sentences often stated in words rather than tone. There’s more to it, but much is hard to understand. Their language is highly complex and, according to the linguists, they seem to be dumbing down their speech for human comprehension. For that, she’s grateful.
“Scientist! That’s me!” Grace eagerly points at himself. “My name is Ryland Grace. Ah, do you have names like that?”
“Have Grace word. Have not name. Earth name.”
“Do you have a name? Wait, no, I probably wouldn’t be able to say it. Maybe an alien name for an Earth name?”
The alien seems to… vibrate, almost. Trembling in its little ball, it raises its three-pronged “hands” and waves them around (a yes gesture), chirping something registering as <undefined> on the tablet.
“Is that your name?” Grace begins tapping at the tablet, unlocking the database to input new translations. “How about Rocky? You seem like a Rocky!”
Eva holds back a roll of her eyes. For someone complaining about things being unnamed, he’s not very original with his naming ideas. But the alien seems to like it, so she doesn’t say anything.
“Scientist Grace and scientist companion here work on Petrova Line, question?” The alien– Rocky asks.
“Oh, right!” Grace looks back sheepishly, as if only just recalling her presence. “This is Eva Stratt. She’s not a scientist, more like my boss for the project.”
“Boss meet Rocky and <undefined> for…” Rocky’s not-head not-body bobs thoughtfully. “Peace meeting… question?”
“Diplomatic connections, yes,” Eva says. “We’re both here to learn more about your people and teach you about ours.”
“<Undefined>! <Undefined>!” Rocky’s ball wobbles back and forth with a pointed few thuds, a noise that Eva assumes is a call for attention.
Right. There was another alien.
“Is he shy?” Grace asks, looking toward the tables and straining his neck to try and catch a peek at the other.
“<Undefined> not happy, many Earth beings. Not happy when many <undefined> beings also.”
“Did E.T. have social anxiety?” Grace asks Eva, a playful smile pulling at his lips.
“Not understand words.” Rocky says.
“It’s dumb, I’ll explain it later, buddy.” Grace chuckles awkwardly. “How about you tell me about your friend then? Diplomat?”
“<Undefined>...” Rocky’s body lowers, turning side to side as the sound– probably the other’s name– is drawn out in a deeper croon. “Smart smart. Strong strong. Amaze amaze amaze. Mate beautiful. Most beautiful.”
“Mate!” Grace gasps, eyes glowing with excitement as he looks up at Eva excitedly. “They’re mates! They can mate. How do you mate? Is it a social thing? Surely, but also the need for reproduction and survival and all species. Oh! How do you reproduce?”
The prying questions seem to go in one unseen ear and out the other, the lovestruck alien rocking back and forth on its legs as it hums to itself. “Love <undefined>... Beautiful, amaze…”
“They sound wonderful,” Grace says, tapping away at the tablet. “How about Adrian?”
Adrian? Where did that name come from? Rocky is obvious, but Eva can’t possibly fathom why he decided on Adrian as a name. Does he just like the name? Is it a reference?
“Adriaaaan.” Rocky begins rolling back, stumbling over themself as they knock over stools and roll around under the tables. They ram into something of similar material to their ball with a loud thud, which then repeats a few quieter times. “Adrian! Adrian! Adrian!”
A soft clack clack.
“Adrian out! Adrian <undefined>!”
“Rocky…”
More thumping, eventually followed by the rumble of balls rolling as Rocky pushes Adrian out from under the table. They are, indeed, a much larger alien. They have a strong blue-green hue to their body, the top of which extends much higher than Rocky’s. Whichever one is the outlier of their species remains to be seen, but there’s no doubt why Adrian was the one in charge despite their mate’s more outgoing nature.
They jingle when they move, the sound originating from the ornate metallic “anklets” worn on the ends of their legs. Eva doubts they’re a survival thing, or else Rocky would’ve had them too. Or perhaps they don’t feel the need to wear them at the moment. Adrian lacks the tool pouches their mate wears, simply cloaked in the same dull green fabric.
“Greet…” Adrian’s body lowers, a motion Eva recognizes as mimicry from the footage of first contact, a few of the scientists ambiguously bowing in greeting. They’re stiffer than Rocky is, though the reason seems to involve more than just their size. Their “voice” is a deeper, rumbling noise, something that seems to reach deep and make her bones tremble,
“Hello!” Grace says. He’s beaming despite the alien’s reluctance, a shining light on the human side of this interaction to perfectly match Rocky’s energy.
Eva guesses that means she’s meant to be matching with Adrian. “Greetings.”
Adrian drawls out a long, supposedly meaningless sound. Rocky’s ball hits theirs, as if trying to nudge them. Adrian seems very reluctant. “Work. Save 40 Eridani.”
“Your star,” Eva says, both for confirmation and to answer Grace’s questioning gaze.
Adrian unenthusiastically waves their claws in agreement. “Not play. Not <undefined>.”
Rocky seems to sadden at that, eager spirit dampened by the looming dread of their mission.
“We’ll do everything in our power to help you,” Eva states. “Dr. Grace and I will be at the head of this mission and your safety is our top priority.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she sees something flicker across Grace’s face. Damn, he caught that. But Rocky is chattering once more before he has a chance to ask. The alien rams against their mate twice before turning to frolic about the room like an indoor cat set loose on sun-warmed cement.
It’s an understandable reaction. Everyone wants to live.