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Eva Stratt was not a masochist.
Nor was she some unthinking, unfeeling psychopath, despite the front she had to put on to get through the day to day struggles of running a multi-government mission that required perfection and nothing less.
But that was beside the point. Eva didn't put herself through pain if she didn't have to. She didn't particularly enjoy languishing in her own emotions like some people did, instead preferring to keep pushing forward and deal with it later, later always later and never now.
So why was she doing it now?
She'd be the first to admit some things just have to go when you're working with such conflicting opinions and have to force them all in line. Especially when dealing with the fate of the world - sometimes morals simply can't factor into the equation, otherwise nothing would get done. But up until this point the actions had been undertaken by volunteers, fully informed of the issues and damage that they may go through while finding potentially nothing to save the earth. That was something she could comfort herself with when it was all over, or so she'd thought.
Now, watching a rocket burn its way into space, with two volunteers and a man who had begged for his life, she was starting to wonder whether her humanity was something she had traded along the way.
It had been hard, for sure. Surprisingly so. Sure Grace had been childish, awkward and bright in a way that just didn't fit the harsh, demanding environment the entire team had to work in, but somehow that bright nature had made him almost essential for the dynamics of the crew. When people had a problem, they came to him - not always for solutions but sometimes just to joke and laugh. He was always there when a situation needed de-escalating, with an awkward joke and smile before roping them into some other experiment. His enthusiasm for his own work was so clear to see that most people, even if they didn't like him, appreciated his presence.
She remembered a moment, not long ago, where Grace had been calling his class to teach from a distance. A few other scientists had sat in to watch, not to necessarily learn something new (if these scientists didn't know how sedimentary rock formed they wouldn't be on such an important team) but just to revel in such a light-hearted atmosphere. His eyes were bright, with a 'no stupid questions' policy that had made some of the scientists around him look sheepishly at each other.
But above all that, Grace was patient. He knew how to explain, how to redirect, how to get concepts across to people so they understood what exactly they needed to know, and he used it on so many occasions. Whenever he passed another scientist in the hall, he would toss them a beanbag and ask them a question to keep them on their toes (now she understood what he meant when she picked him up, by saying 'that's lava'. She had been confused at first when she first heard him cry out 'it's melting, Shapiro!'). He would make stupid song references ('whoomp, there it is'), get excited about the most inane things ('it just holds so much power guys!') and overall was just so full of life that he had quickly become irreplaceable. He had wormed his way under her skin, and very quickly made himself quite comfortable.
Which just made it all the harder to watch his face contort in fear, tears dripping down his cheeks. It just looked so wrong on his face - so used to having a focused furrow in his brow or a big grin that the tears staining his cheeks seemed utterly alien. She had to look away as he bolted, for once not trusting herself to not make a selfish decision as they hunted him down like prey.
She knew the rest from Carl. They had slammed him into the dirt, knocking his glasses askew as he pleaded for his life. A sedative was injected into his neck, his frenzied thrashing slowing before stopping as his eyes rolled back in his head. He had stayed while they kept him sedated - they could only induce the coma for sure once the ship was fuelled and full, so he was sedated for around 2 days. Anytime he got near-lucid, he'd beg again before another injection took his consciousness away from him. She would have to give Carl a few days away, she thought, because the man did not seem fully present at the current moment. He rolled one of Grace's beanbags - a larger one that looked like Jupiter - in his hands whenever he thought she wasn't looking, tucking it away into his pocket like it was something precious.
She had packed his Earth beanbag for him - a reminder of why he was up there, she had rationalised to herself, but she knew in reality it was because it had always been his favourite. It was the same reason why she packed his stupid science pun T-shirts that had every scientist he saw groaning, and the artwork from his students, and a couple of books he had in a 'to be read' pile despite having pirated the entirety of content from all of humanity ready on the computer. Because despite everything, Eva Stratt was still human, and she wanted the closest person she could consider a friend to have as many of his comforts as he could have.
She had a feeling Yao and Ilyukhina knew. They were uncharacteristically silent as they drove to the ship, Grace's eyes fluttering despite the sedative and slurred mumbling. Maybe he was still begging for his life. Yao refused to look at her, but didn't say anything. Ilyukhina's fingers threaded through Grace's hair, murmuring what Stratt assumed were soft comforts in Ukrainian to try and settle him down, let him know he wasn't alone and, presumably, that she was sorry. Neither tried to stop her, but neither acknowledged her with the same friendliness they had before.
Maybe they didn't know. Maybe it was just reality sinking in. But Eva didn't get as far as she did without knowing how to read a room. They knew - or at least, suspected. Why else would he have been sedated on the drive down, and not offered a video log for his friends and family to hold onto as he said goodbye? Sure they told him he was sedated to stop him from panicking on take off - but there's no reason why he couldn't have filmed a quick video log with them for support before they put him under.
Maybe Carl told them before the drive. She wouldn't blame him if he did. At least then they may be prepared for a Grace with no memories of the last few days. She'd told the crew to ensure he woke up after them, just so that there would be someone there for him to latch on to and help him with that.
He was officially put into a coma once aboard the ship, the two others settling into their positions for take off before they would go to the medical robot to be put under. Eva watched as the doctors carefully put him under, changing his clothes and ensuring he was safely held for take off. The last thing they wanted was him dying in the first few months of space flight because he wasn't strapped down securely. The medical robot watched as they worked, tilting in a manner that Grace would no doubt describe as 'inquisitively'. He had a tendency to describe inanimate objects with human emotions.
Before she left, she headed to the cockpit. Yao and Ilyukhina were preparing for take off, a solemn sort of resignation hanging heavy in the air.
"Good luck," she offered them.
"Thank you," Ilyukhina didn't look at her, fiddling with her seatbelt, while Yao's eyes, stern and knowing, fixed her with a stare.
"I said volunteers only," he said in Mandarin, knowing she knew it.
"I know," she responded in kind, refusing to bow down. "If there had been anyone else, I would not have done it."
"I just hope you can live with yourself." He shook his head. "If it were not necessary to proceed now, I would have told the media myself. But you make sure his family are taken care of. You owe him that."
"He has no family."
Yao fixed her with a withering glare. "His students, Stratt. His friends. Just because he has no relatives doesn't mean he doesn't have a family. There will be some out there - students who have relied on him in hard times, friends who will not understand why he has not been in contact in a while. Colleagues who don't understand why such a bright soul just disappeared. They deserve to know, and to be taken care of. Like you said our families would be."
"Ok," she conceded, "I will."
"I wish I could hold you to that." He sighed, "We'll be setting off in three hours. Do try to stop everyone from killing each other while we are gone."
"I am already two steps ahead of you on that." She saluted, and the two volunteers with golden patches did so back. "Good luck," she offered in English, before heading out.
She stayed until long after the ship had left, letting herself feel all of the emotions she had kept so carefully locked away lest they burst out and ruin everything.
And then she wiped her cheeks, turning away from the rocket and heading back to work.
Ryland Grace was a necessary sacrifice, she told herself. And to make that sacrifice worth it, there was other groundwork that had to be laid.
Starting with attempting to warm up the planet before the inevitable ice age.
And one day, there will be punishment. It is highly likely that Eva Stratt will die staring down the barrel of a gun, when her crimes catch up to her and the truth, as it so often does, comes out.
But in the interim, to make it worth it, she will do as she has always done. Prepare, mitigate, and execute.
It's all she can do, but...
It's not enough.