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We're six months into the journey to Erid when the panic finally sets in.
It's been slow coming. It's easy to push things off into the far distant possibility, when you have four years to work things out. Four years to wait and think of a solution. Things look good now, making it easy to believe they'll be good then.
There's four years.
Until there isn't, and six months are gone just like that.
The days are the same in the way that makes time feel both fast and endlessly slow at the same time. I wake up, I eat and try not to think about the dwindling number of meals ahead of me. I experiment a little with Taumoeba each day, just to see what I can study from it.
Sure it kills Astrophage, but pretty soon I'm gonna be relying on it for nutrients, at least until the Eridians figure something out for me.
It tastes awful, by the way. Could not recommend it any less.
Experimenting with it gets pretty boring pretty fast. There's only so much waiting I can do. So I bother Rocky, and Rocky talks to me while he works on whatever it is that he's working on. We talk for hours. Usually about Erid, because it's hard talking about Earth knowing that I'm never going back. He's excited to talk about it anyway.
He keeps telling me all these plans he has for when we get back to Erid. I don't have the heart to tell him the truth. I doubt I'll see Erid for anything longer than maybe another year. I knew what my choice would mean, and I still stick by it. Seeing Rocky alive, healthy, happy, is all I need.
Whenever we don't talk, I find things to occupy my time with. I've switched off the text-to-speech system to try and actually learn Rocky's language but it's not enough. So whenever he sleeps, I pull out one of the laptops and pull up a music program that lets me turn my keyboard into a piano essentially. I took lessons long ago, but I'm essentially starting from scratch.
Beyond just learning the notes and the keys, I work on learning music theory to see if it helps. It does some, but I can't imagine the Eridians use the same lessons that we humans do.
I think Rocky suspects what I'm doing, but he hasn't said anything, and I'm still trying to keep it a surprise.
As the 'day' winds down—really just whenever I start feeling tired and Mary's systems dim the lights--I get ready for bed. As always, Rocky settles himself on his side of the barrier and watches me sleep.
It's a good routine. It keeps me busy, keeps my mind working, keeps me from going insane—with help from the 'don't go crazy room'. It's not perfect, and the cracks are starting to show, but it's fine. I can ignore them for a little longer.
The day it happens, it starts pretty much the same. I get up, I cut my food in half and supplement with some of the Taumoeba we've bred and try to ignore how awful it is. Rocky's not in the room because now that he's explained Eridian culture to me, he refuses to be in the room while I eat. It doesn't make sense to me, but it's starting to be more and more normal.
The Taumoeba filled burrito tastes awful going down. It tastes like cough medicine mixed with hand sanitizer, sticking to my taste buds in a way that even water can't wash down. It's hard to swallow, but I do it because I have to.
I just wish there was someone to talk to. Someone who could distract me and keep my mind off the horrible taste. But there isn't. Just the white walls of the dormitory where only one out of the three beds are actually used.
There's a tingle on the back of my neck that's only been growing as the days pass. Rubbing it helps, but I know what I'm craving is the physical presence of another. But it's just me. And my best friend is separated by a wall.
It hits me then that this will be the rest of my life.
Not the Hail Mary—though I do doubt Rocky and Erid will actually be able to build me a home on their planet—no. But this. The food. Eating alone. Stuck behind a barrier from the first person who actually ever understood me whom I'll never get to touch.
He's a person, sure, and his company is keeping me from going crazy but it's not the same. He's not human.
I'm never going to see a single human ever again.
Panic has been a slow creeping thing. It's not zero to one hundred at that realization. It just feels like the little nudge the damn needs before it actually splinters, turning from a slow trickle that's been growing into a full forced tidal wave.
My hands start shaking so bad I drop my food. The edges of my vision go hazy, my body tingling until it starts going numb. There's something violent happening in my chest, building and building and squeezing until I can't breathe. I'm not gasping for breath like someone struggling to get it in, it's just like my lungs suddenly stop, and I have to remember the ins and outs of breathing without my body following an automatic command.
I shake. There's nothing I can do but shake. Something clatters but it's such a distant sound I'm not even aware of it. Suddenly, the room that I've been slowly complaining about being too small feels too big, too bright and too white and I need to get away.
I want someone there.
I want to go home.
It's not a genuine feeling. There's no drive in me to turn this ship around and march back to Earth. Not that we could, anyway. Well, maybe we could, we're only six months in and should be hitting the cruise phase soon but going back would take longer, and take Rocky away from his mate and—
No. It's the feeling of a scared child wanting his mother.
I don't even remember my mother.
Panic mixes with anger, with fear, with terror and helplessness and it spirals down down down until I find myself curled up in a corner of the room with my arms around me.
I'm angry. Angry at Stratt for taking my whole life away. Not just in this trip, but in my memories. I still don't have all of them back, and who knows if I ever will. There will be nothing on Erid to remind me of things that I'll only find on Earth. I'm angry that I'm here, that I was forced to make this choice to not go home, even if I'd make it again and again and again because Rocky's safe.
I'm so scared. And I've always been scared, but this feels like something primal.
I'm never going home. Ever. I'll never see another human, never see a new piece of media, never get a hug or a pat on the shoulder or get to breathe in fresh air and feel sunlight on my face. I'm never going to have any of that again.
It doesn't matter if I starve to death in Erid's atmosphere or live out the rest of my life in whatever enclosure Rocky builds for me. The result is the same. I'll die light years away from my home and leave my best friend to mourn me in his wake.
I'm going to die, one way or the other, and it could be very slow and painful and I'll never have the comforts of home again. I never really let it sink in until now.
There's a clatter again, a chime and a hum like wind blowing through wooden pipes, and then something bumps into my legs.
I look up, even if the motion feels so far detached from my brain, like I'm watching someone else move my own body.
It's Rocky. He's in his ball, carapace angled towards me like he wants to reach out but also knows that he can't.
He makes the noise again, and another one after that with two stomps of one of his legs—and I realize then it had been coming from him. It's my name.
"Grace? Grace okay, question? Grace not responding—"
"Rocky," I choke out, my eyes hot with tears and my voice rough with panic. It shakes me still, trembling my whole body with this nauseating panic threatening to vibrate me out of my own body. I try to pull myself together for him. "Rocky, I'm okay."
"Grace not okay! Grace heart organ beat fast. Grace lungs move too small. Bad bad bad."
"It's—" my voice fails, and I try to suck in a breath. "I'm okay just—just give me a moment."
Rocky clicks his claws together uncertainly, before his carapace dips and rises, "Okay. Rocky stay with Grace. Rocky help. Not know how, but Rocky stay close."
"Yeah, buddy," I say, and it comes out watery as the tears spill fresh. "That helps."
I don't know how long we sit there but the heat of his ball and the tight corner I put myself in slowly calms me down. As alone as I feel, I know I'm not. Rocky's already done so much for me, and here he is, sitting with me even if he could be doing any of the other tasks we have to do. But he's here. He's here, and I'm not alone.
Shakily, I inhale. My lungs ache, but the ache fades the more air I breathe in. Beside me, Rocky shifts when he notices the change, but he still doesn't say anything.
"Sorry," I say, pushing my glasses up to rub the tears away. My face is sticky and dry with the salty tears, but I'll wash it later. I don't want to move away from Rocky right now.
"Is okay," Rocky says. "What happened, question?"
"I got—I got really sad," I explain, my voice is hoarse but I push through. It feels easier to explain it than to think of what I was feeling. "And really scared. When humans get really scared because of a thought in their head, their body can react like something is hurting them or attacking them. It's called a panic attack."
"Grace get scared by thought?" he asks, with that telling two-tap of his leg.
I nod, "I mean, I've known already that I'd never see another human again but it…I finally understood what that meant."
"Oh," Rocky says. He shifts on his legs, a simple back and forth movement.
"I just thought about how bad the food situation is," I continue. "About how…I'm so different from you. I can't ask you to change your whole life for me, Rocky."
"Grace not ask. Rocky offer," Rocky trills, bumping into me. "Rocky happy to. You are ♫♩♫♩. Means important friend. Family. Erid will keep Grace safe and fix food."
I let out a little laugh, but it's without any humour, "You keep saying that, but you don't know. This isn't something you can fix, Rock. I'm gonna be the only human on Erid for the rest of my life. I won't get to hug another person, won't get to talk to another person in my own language. I won't get to see the Earth again. I'm—I'm happy to go to Erid with you, and know you're safe it's just—"
"Scary thought," Rocky warbles sadly. "Rocky understand. Rocky had many scary thoughts about dying in space like crew. Scared Rocky would never see Adrian again. Made peace, but still scary. But Grace save Rocky. So Rocky save Grace."
"You've already saved me," I counter but he knocks into me and tells me to shut up.
"Rocky build Grace beach. Eridians figure out how to make Earth on Erid. Statement."
He says it with so much confidence, it's hard not to believe him. It's like an undeniable fact to him, something that won't change and won't go wrong. Oh, man. Oh… He needs to believe this as much as I do. This is for him as much as it is for me. He's having the same concerns as me, but he's not letting himself think it.
If only I could be as good at living in denial as he is.
"Okay," I say. Exhaustion creeps in now that I'm done crying. If Rocky can believe that I'll live so strongly, then maybe I can too. Maybe I will. I have Rocky, after all, and I know he'd do everything for me the way I would for him.
"Grace never alone again," Rocky sings. "We will fix. Figure out way to make Grace happy and safe on Erid."
"Okay," I said again, leaning against his ball. "Okay, Rocky. We'll figure it out."
We don't have answers now, but maybe he's right. Maybe we will figure it out.
Neither of us say anything for a long time, but slowly I calm down more and more until I'm just empty. I rest my head on the wall, close my eyes, and just breathe.
Until Rocky knocks into me yet again.
"You sleep," Rocky chimed, pointing at the bed.
I was too tired to argue. Panicking and crying really takes it out of me. Just this once I'll let Rocky get away with bossing me around.
"Wait!"
I stop and look at him. Now I'm just getting grouchy. I want to sleep, and now he's stopping me? "What?"
"On floor."
I sigh, "Rocky, I'm not sleeping on the floor."
It would kill my back for one. For two, I really just want to fall into bed and pass out.
In response, he stomps one of his legs, pointing at the bed. "Put bedding on floor. You sleep, I watch."
"Rocky, no."
"Grace, yes."
I throw my hands up in defeat, knowing I'm not going to win talking to a literal rock. He can be incredibly stubborn when it comes to things that inconvenience me.
I haul everything off the bed and even manage to get the mattress off. Rocky directs me to a corner in the small dormitory room near the xenonite walls of his side of the room. Probably so he can watch me better, or something.
It doesn't take long to do up my bed and make sure it'll be comfortable enough to hopefully sleep. I'm exhausted. It pulls at my bones like an extra force of gravity, reminding me of how tired I really am after crying.
Rocky nudges me until I lay down in the makeshift bed, and then surprisingly he rolls up close until he's taking up half the space. It squishes me between him and the wall but… I'm not really complaining. He's warm. Touching the xenonite ball almost makes me think there's someone next to me--human, I mean. Rocky is someone, but it's not the same.
I wish it was. I don't need more than him, really, but I know it's going to be a long, hard rest of my life knowing I'll never get physical touch again.
"Grace sleep," Rocky says, his notes low and soothing. It's almost like he's whispering. He knows I understand more Eridian now, but there's something sweet about the simplified speech. "Safe. I watch."
"Okay, buddy," I say, turning on my side so I can face him. I give his ball a little pat. "You watch."
Then I grab the quilt and pull it up over me, before draping the excess over half of Rocky's ball. He rolls back in surprise before coming closer again.
"What are you doing, question?" he asks, with two taps of his leg on the ball. He doesn't even need to say question anymore, I know what he means from that alone.
"Tucking you in," I tell him.
"What is new word?" he chirps, shifting his carapace. He seems to be taking in the quilt, and I let him, smiling a little at his curiosity.
"It's a human thing. We do it when someone goes to sleep. You tuck them in so they're comfortable and warm. It's…a way to show them you love them."
He goes quiet. We've talked about love a little bit when Rocky shared stories of Adrian and I reluctantly told him about my failed relationship. I never really understood romantic love the way everyone else seemed to, but I could easily explain platonic love to him. It was sweet to hear the different ways Eridians refer to love. The low smooth chords that form a beautiful heartfelt melody when talking about their mates, the sweeter higher tones for family, and the warm but soft tones when talking about friends. They had more too. A wide range of love, just the way humans did.
He used a very soft one for me. I'm not quite sure what it means, but it sounded like a mix of the ones for family and the ones for friends.
"Rocky wish ball had hands. Then Rocky could tuck Grace in."
I couldn't help but smile, patting his ball again, "It's the thought that counts."
He didn't even have to make his confused little chime before I continued, "Human phrase. I'll explain it tomorrow."
He makes a low note, the sound he makes when he's thinking. In the end, he doesn't say much. He moves the slightest bit closer to me and hunkers down on his legs. If he'd been a cat, they'd call that loafing back on Earth. I wonder if he'd like the comparison or not.
"Sleep," he trills again.
I tuck my glasses to the side where they won't get crushed in my sleep and close my eyes. It feels a little silly, but I wrap my arm around his ball so I'm not awkwardly laying with it on my side.
Soft, so softly I almost don't hear, Rocky starts talking again. I don't know what the words mean, they're not anything Rocky taught me, but they're soft and quiet and soothing. Like the crooning of a human mother to her crying baby. I probably should argue against the comparison, but I'm too tired. It sounds nice, drudging up old memories of a faint lullaby.
I've got my best friend next to me right now. That's all that matters.
He continues to talk—sing, actually, I think, as I drift off. I'll ask him what it means in the morning. But for now, the warmth of the ball, the softness of the bedding, the low sweet noise of music, and the knowledge that Rocky's there to watch me sleep and keep me safe is all I need to drift off to sleep.
I wake up feeling both refreshed and ten times more tired than I had been the day before. My eyes are sore and puffy—from all the crying—but I feel steadier.
It's not all gone. The fear and panic will stay forever, the terror of death will linger in the corners until it comes for me, but it feels so distant right now.
There's a crease mark on my arm and my face from sleeping so close to Rocky's ball. I can feel it when I reach up to rub the sleep from my eyes. A large yawn cracks my jaw open, but I blink myself awake anyway.
Rocky's not in his ball, but he's sitting on the other side of his enclosure. He sits up when I do, turning his carapace to the 'front' as I like to refer to it, as I reach for my glasses.
"Grace awake, question?"
"I'm up," I say, running a hand through my hair. "How long was sleep?"
"Thirty-five thousand four hundred six seconds. Human units," Rocky reports. "Grace feel better, question?"
"Much," I reply. The quilt has pooled around my waist, leaving me in a nice warm cocoon. It's almost enough to lay back down and go back to sleep, but there's much to do and if Rocky's right then I was asleep for almost ten hours.
I'm still tired. I think I will be until my body recovers from the emotional outburst I had yesterday, and all the crying, but it's a good kind of tired. It's easier to breathe today at least. I take a deep breath in and slowly let it out, focusing on the beat of my heart with my hand to my chest.
I'm alive.
As long as I'm alive, there's always a way to figure things out. Nothing is set in stone forever. I have Rocky. I have the ship, and I'm alive.
Earth will be okay, Erid will be okay.
We're okay.
"We're okay," I say out loud, leaning my back against the xenonite wall. I glance over my shoulder to watch Rocky do the same.
"Of course we are, stupid," Rocky replies, but it's his teasing tone, the one that's light and airy like a dancing melody. He doesn't mean it when he calls me stupid or dumb. …Okay most of the time. He only means it some of the time. "Rocky said so. Grace should listen."
"I know I know," I huff. "Stupid human brains."
I doze a little bit sitting there listening to him tinker away. He's always working on something, like he can't keep his hands still without going crazy. I understand that a little, but I can't bring myself to get up and do anything. So I doze, and I feel the first sense of peace that I've felt in a long time.
He starts up the singing again, but this time I'm awake enough that I shake off sleep and sit back up, rubbing my eyes.
"Hey," I say, and he stops immediately. "What… is that? Is that like a lullaby?"
"Not understand word."
He stops tinkering and 'turns' to face me. It's more so his curious gesture as I've come to call it. When he wants to 'hear' me better or he's confused about something human, he always turns like he's turning to face me.
"It's… a song. Parents usually sing it to their kids to help them fall asleep, but anyone can sing one to anyone, really," I explain. "It's supposed to soothe. It just sounds nice and calming."
"Oh. Yes! On Erid we call this ♬♩♩♫," Rocky says, his carapace shifting as he talks. I don't bother reaching for the translator system to input it in. I need to train myself on their language if I am going to be living there. "First few sleeps scary for young Eridians. Parents sing lullabies to help them not be scared. Parents sing lullabies for whole sleep. But Grace wake up if Rocky too loud, so Rocky sing until Grace sleep."
Once again I'm amazed by how similar our cultures are. Sixteen lightyears apart and yet both our species have so many things in common. Makes me wonder how many things are actually universal. There's something sweet about love, no matter the form, being universal.
"Thanks," I say, resting my hand on the barrier. "It really did help."
Rocky reaches up to rest one of his stony hands just over where mine is. "Good good good," he says.
Even as he turns back to tinkering, he leaves his hand there. I don't bother taking mine away either, even as my arm gets tired. I've decided I'm doing nothing today.
He eventually drags me out of bed when he decides I'm being lazy enough. Well, he doesn't literally drag me. He gets in his ball and yells at me until I get up and eat and change my shirt and jumpsuit-working-as-pants and everything.
It feels so much less daunting after last night. Things haven't gone away, no, I can feel the dread creeping back in as I mark down another meal gone and see how many remain. But then Rocky knocks into me and leads me to the don't go crazy room where we sit together and watch another Earth movie and I can't—really feel bad.
I've got my best friend. I can't hug him, not really, but he's there anyway. He's there, and I'll get to stay with him. And it's my choice.
After the movie I turn the screens back to the ocean scene. We sit quietly as the sounds of waves crashing on the sand fill the room. I ache a little, thinking about how I'll never get to actually see this, but I've made my choice. I can't regret it. I don't.
Rocky rolls forward and backward—pacing but only in the limited space that he has. He's tapping two of his arms together, the solid rock sound thunking even through the xenonite barrier.
"Grace?," Rocky says, tapping his leg twice. There's a warble in his tone, like a piano not quite tuned right.
"Yeah, Rocky?" I ask, turning towards him to give him my full attention. I can tell from his tone that he's worried about it.
He knocks his hands together, before settling them on the floor. His carapace lowers. "Grace say Grace misses Earth. Missing Earth make you scared. Grace regrets coming back, question?"
"What?"
I'm almost too shocked that I can't answer. Is that what he's been worrying about since yesterday? Oh gosh, no. Sometimes I get so wrapped up in my own feelings I forget that Eridians aren't all that different when it comes to emotions. Rocky's been through a lot.
"No!" I said quickly, moving forward to rest my hand on his ball. "No, Rocky, never."
"But Grace can't go home," Rocky says. His tone is slow low I almost can't understand him. Six months ago I wouldn't have been able to pick it apart, but here I can. "Grace not see another human."
"It's—" I frown, trying to figure out what I want to say. "You are my best friend."
Rocky's carapace tilts up, curious.
"I will miss Earth, but…Earth won't miss me. You would miss me. I want to be here with you," I tell him. "I…I've never had someone miss me before. You care. You… love me. And I love you too, buddy. Whatever that word you called me earlier—that's what you are to me too."
We don't really have all the words to say what I want. As fluent as we've both gotten with each other's languages, there are some topics that haven't come up. We talked about love, but I've never explained chosen family to him. I think he gets it anyway. I think that's what he called me.
"I want to be here with you," I repeat. "You are my home now. Got it?"
Rocky trills happily, something that my brain translates to just "Happy happy happy" but I'm pretty sure it's just a wordless noise. He surges against the wall of his ball, and I happily bend down to hug him.
"I might complain," I tell him, squeezing the xenonite so tight it digs into my arms. "I might get sad. But I'm happy I came to save you. I'm happy to be going to Erid with you."
"Good good good," Rocky chirps. "Home with Rocky. Rocky was sad when Grace left. Rocky alone again. Now Rocky not alone. Rocky never alone."
"Yeah," I reply tightly. "Never alone. Never again."
I ignore the fact that he'll outlive me. I ignore the fact that there's still a very real risk of starvation on the horizon. But if Rocky wants to believe I'll live so strongly, then maybe I can believe I will for him too.
We stay in there hugging for a long time. Every time I try to end it, Rocky gets upset and so I hug him for longer. It's not really comfortable and my back starts to complain but it's worth it for the good mood he's in for the rest of the day.
We only head back to the dormitory when he has to eat and then sleep. I give him privacy for his meal, but when I come back I find him sleepily propped up in his ball, not quite detached from the wall.
"Grace tuck…Rocky in," he says.
He's hanging on by a thread, so I don't bother to even argue. Not like I want to anyway.
I help roll him over to where my makeshift little bed still is and up onto the cushion. It sags under his extreme weight, but it holds up. Then I sit on the edge and grab the quilt I had left last night, tucking it up over his ball. Though, I am careful to leave enough of a gap that I can peek in and see him.
He lets out a happy chirp noise and tucks his legs under himself as he lays down.
"You sleep," I tell him. "I watch."
Rocky makes a sleepy little chime before he goes utterly still, just the way he is.
He doesn't make noise in his sleep or anything, and I can't touch him, but the warmth of the ball against me is enough to remind me that I'm not alone. Not anymore. I think the reminder is good for him too.