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He would be afraid every remaining moment of his life, and then he would die. Eva Stratt knew this. She knew it with the same certainty that told her if anyone could do it, it was him. She had told him that it wasn’t hard to ask people to do this, but it had been a lie. The odds of success, honestly calculated, were much lower than she had ever allowed spoken outside her office. If Ryland Grace suspected this, he never said a word, but she could practically smell the fear on him like a hunted animal the moment their eyes had met. It didn’t matter though. Perhaps it would have been kinder to never tell him, save him the panic of the snare tightening, but she would have lain awake each night wondering if he would have made a different choice. It was about as likely as the success of the mission itself, but she had to give her friend the opportunity to choose this: one last Hail Mary to absolve her guilt before the big one.
Her college girlfriend had called her a cold-hearted bitch, and perhaps there was some truth to it. She never really understood the point of relationships that way. Eva loved the bright, beautiful world with a dogged ferocity, but she had always felt alien to it. Her whole life she had only had a few close friends, and only ever the one doomed romantic partnership. Perhaps it’s why she got on so well with Grace. His love of discovery, his lust for life. He was a coward, yes, but he loved the world. And to save it, she had to send him to die. She had watched on the security cameras as they chased him down and sedated him. Nothing to do now but finish the plans.
The other crew members would have their personal kits carefully packed and stowed away onboard. Family photos, mementos. Letters. Clothes. Creature comforts. If Grace had any close relatives, she would reach out to them, but she hadn’t been lying. He had once said his students were all he’d needed in his life. Now he was alone.
Sitting in bed with her phone long after her workday had ended, she typed up an email to the principal of Grover Cleveland Middle School on her private account, trying her best to sound warm. Official story said Grace was on sick leave. Soon, that wouldn’t matter anyway. Grace was a coworker of hers, she wrote, on an important research project that required him to be away from home for a while. He missed his students—this, at least, was true—and would be cheered up by some of their art if they could please send it to a PO Box in Greenland. “I think it would mean a lot to him,” she wrote, adding a smiley face and then deleting it. Fuck. She rubbed her palms over her eyes and tapped send before she could think better of it. It was the least she could do.
She opened a new tab and sat staring the empty google search bar and its patient idle flashing line. What do you send your closest friend and colleague with to wear while dying in the empty expanse of space? She typed Science teacher shirt and hit search. “I’m a Science Teacher, What’s Your Superpower?” the top result read.
“This is stupid,” she muttered, dropping her phone into her lap and letting her head fall back on the pillows. She had much bigger things to be worrying about.
After a moment, she picked it back up. Funny science shirt. Search. “The Element of Surprise: Ah.” She felt a chuckle begin and die in her throat. That was exactly the kind of ridiculous bullshit he would wear. She added it to cart, and then two more with asinine jokes he would enjoy. She tried to imagine his face finding them and regretted it. The confusion, the wry smile. Who knew if he would even know who he was when he woke up, after the drugs they gave him? She bit her lip as the hot feeling of impending tears rose behind her eyes, willing them away and breathing deeply until it faded. She hurriedly ordered them to the same box and made a note to send someone to retrieve them when they arrived. Then, she closed her eyes and tried very hard to sleep for a very long time.