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With the abundance of time he has on the trip to Erid, Grace has taken an interest in the vast amount of information that Stratt uploaded to the Hail Mary’s database. There’s the entirety of Wikipedia, every Internet page as it existed at the moment it was downloaded, all forms of entertainment including songs, TV shows, movies, books, and games. Enough to keep someone busy for a lifetime.
But, among those files, there’s something else that Grace has been stubbornly ignoring. Pinned to the very top of the directory, there’s a file folder that is just titled ‘For Ryland Grace’. There are two others as well, one for Yao and one for Ilyukhina. By the time he’d first noticed them, he’d already regained the memory of refusing to board the ship, so he’d been reluctant to look at whatever last-minute messages would be contained in that file. He had opened Yao’s, just to see what he might expect - there were a few videos, some text documents, and some music files titled in Chinese. A personalized folder of memories to lift someone’s spirits. Grace had closed it without opening any of the files, not wanting to intrude on things that weren’t meant for him.
Grace hadn’t wanted to know what was in his. Even now, months after he first discovered the folder’s existence, he still doesn’t want anything to do with it. But every time he opens the file directory, it’s there, taunting him: ‘For Ryland Grace’. The last things that someone wanted to give to him before departure, beyond the few personal effects that were packed for him. If there are messages for him, even if it’s just something trivial, then by ignoring them, he’s rejecting the wishes of whoever put it together for him.
But he knows who it probably was, and since she’d soundly rejected his wishes, he’d thought it was okay to spend at least a little bit of time hiding from hers.
In the end, though, Grace was always going to give in. Now that he’s months into an interstellar journey, likely to never return to Earth, he finds himself unbearably tempted to look at those messages for him. The last window into the life he’s left behind. He wraps himself in his quilt, knowing that he might need the comfort of it, and settles down on the floor with the laptop.
When he opens the folder, there are only two files in it. One is a text document simply titled ‘Letters’, and the other is a video with the default title unaltered. Looking at the thumbnail, he sees Eva Stratt, sitting in her desk chair with her usual perfect posture. Even in the still frame, though, she looks tense.
Grace really, really doesn’t want to watch the video. Even just seeing her face again is breaking down the carefully constructed box in his mind that contains how he feels about her. But he has to know what she wanted to say to him, he has to know what she was thinking as she sent him away.
With a deep breath, Grace opens the video and lets it play.
The camera, recording in high quality, is set up so that Stratt is perfectly in the center of the frame. She sits with her hands clasped together, resting on the desk in front of her. She has the unhappy look of someone giving bad news. The expression is subtle, hidden beneath an expertly crafted facade, only for someone who knew her well to be able to decode.
“Doctor Grace. As I record this message, I have just given you an important decision to make, and only a short amount of time to make it.”
“I want you to accept the mission. I want you to go on your own terms. But I know you well enough by now to be prepared for the possibility that you will not. In fact, I am nearly certain that you will decline. And in the event that you decline, I am prepared to send you anyway, because you are our best chance.”
“Before, you told me that you thought it must be hard for me to ask those people to give up their lives. I told you that it isn’t hard. Not only it is an easy decision to make, for the sake of the world, but it is also easy because those people know what they are getting into. It is an agreement between all of us to do what needs to be done.”
Stratt closes her eyes, takes a quiet moment, and then continues.
“If you will not go willingly, then I will have to force you. That will be hard. It will be hard because you did not enter into this agreement like the others did, because I know you don’t think yourself capable, and because I know you will be scared. I will make this decision on behalf of humanity, and so I will not regret it. But I hope you understand that I take no pleasure in causing you pain.”
“You asked me if I had any plans for the next twenty years, and I did not get a chance to answer you. I wouldn’t have known how to answer you, anyway, because the success of the project has been the only thing on my mind for a long time. However, perhaps if circumstances had been different, I would have liked to include you in whatever those plans were going to be. I suspect that this will not make you feel any better, but I am simply choosing to be honest with you, as I know I have not been honest enough with you until now.”
“I wish you well, Doctor Grace. For the sake of our mission, yes, but also for your own sake. I know that I have made it difficult, but I hope you find some peace out there.”
The footage cuts.
Grace feels paralyzed. He doesn’t know how to process Stratt’s words and accept what she was saying. He can’t forgive her, not after everything he’s suffered through, but he knows that she was right about some things. He did save everyone, he was the best choice. And her actions ultimately led him to Rocky, his best friend, someone who understands and cares for him unlike anyone on Earth ever had.
But how is he supposed to handle this? The thought that she really did care about him, that she genuinely wanted him in her life? Knowing that she cared about him, but also knowing that he’ll never get to ask her just how much she cared? What is he supposed to do with any of that?
She may not have wanted to send him by force, but she talked about it so smoothly, no hesitation or empathy in her voice at all. And yet, in their final conversation, she’d been on the verge of tears. Was it because she could see, in that moment, the true depths of his terror? Someone as meticulous and uncompromising as her should have followed him as he ran, to make certain that he was captured and returned, but she didn’t. Maybe she couldn’t stand to watch. Or maybe that’s just Grace’s wishful thinking, trying to unravel threads that don’t exist, grasping for emotions he can’t be sure she really felt.
She knew he’d be scared, or so she said. But would anything have changed if she saw him in the end, begging desperately not to be killed? And how dare she talk about wishing him well, about the plans they could’ve made in a different life? How could she say those things to someone she knew she was about to murder?
Something like panic starts to build up in Grace’s chest. He feels tears burning behind his eyes, blurring his vision of the laptop screen, and he knows he’s not breathing right as the buzzing energy spreads to the rest of his body. If you will not go willingly, then I will have to force you. I know you will be scared. He’s already regained this memory, he doesn’t want to relive it again, but it leaves him no choice, taking over his mind and leaving him defenseless against it.
It’s hopeless, he knows it is, but he can’t help but keep fighting. He’s already being pinned down by multiple people, people that are all stronger than he is, but his instincts are running on high alert, panic rushing through every part of his body. He thrashes as hard as he can, yells with the loudest voice he can muster. He cries that this is murder, he begs to be freed, but none of it gets through.
Maybe there’s some sympathy for him. He can’t see their faces as they pin him face-down to the ground, so it’s impossible to know. But, unlike Grace, these people don’t let any personal feelings get in the way of what needs to be done.
His heart beats hard and fast as he’s pressed against the grass. His chest, arms, shoulders, back, every part of him is under painful pressure as he fights to escape. When he sees the needle approaching his neck, his mind bursts with a new wave of panic, but he still doesn’t have the strength to break free.
He’s never been scared of needles. They don’t hurt so bad once you know what to expect. But this one in particular is the singular most scary thing he’s ever experienced. Intellectually, he knows the pain is just a pinprick, but he feels every second of it so acutely; the puncture, the injection, the exit. He feels the drug forcefully slowing him down, knows how little time he has left before it takes everything away. Even the all-encompassing terror is being numbed as his vision dims around the edges.
He clutches at the grass, digs his fingers into the dirt. This can’t be the last time he touches the Earth. If he holds on tight enough, maybe, just maybe, they won’t be able to drag him away. He tries to speak again, to say another plea or a threat or a goodbye, but all that comes out is a wavering, wordless cry.
The drug is not fatal. It can’t be, because they still need him. This isn’t the moment of his death. But it is the moment of his condemnation.
Ryland Grace will die out there, and not a single person tried to save him from his fate.
The memory falls away suddenly, and for one very disorienting moment, Grace has no idea where he is. He can’t catch his breath, his heart is beating way faster than it should be. But there is a repetitive tapping and a voice calling his name. “Grace! Grace!”
The world filters back in gradually, facts making themselves known to Grace one by one. That’s Rocky’s voice. Rocky is very close by in his xenonite suit, tapping one limb anxiously against the floor. They’re both on the Hail Mary. It’s been years since that memory happened. “Answer if Grace can hear!” Grace must be taking too long to respond.
“Yeah. Yeah, I - I hear you,” he answers, wiping tears from his eyes so he can try to focus his vision and process what’s happening. He’s curled up on the floor with one arm squished beneath him - he doesn’t remember it, but he probably collapsed to the side. The blanket, at least, is providing a warm and comforting weight. He’s glad he had the foresight to have it with him.
Rocky is right near Grace’s head, still tapping. His concern is obvious from his posture, the way he won’t sit still, ambling around as if he needs to be moving but never getting too far from Grace’s side. “Grace heart too fast, breathing wrong, would not respond. What happened, question?”
Grace squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. Sudden flashes of recollection have been common as he recovers from his amnesia, but he’s never experienced one so severe that it took him out of reality. Part of him knows that this has nothing to do with amnesia, that it’s more likely a trauma symptom, but he doesn’t want to unpack that right now. Instead, he focuses on explaining it to Rocky. “It’s, um - new word. ‘Flashback’. When a memory is so strong you feel like you’re living it again.”
Rocky trills a few notes for the equivalent word in his language. “Eridians have this also,” he says. “Usually result of bad memory. Bad experience that stays strong in mind.” He hesitates and shuffles around. He seems less worried, now that Grace has been able to explain himself, but it still couldn’t have been easy for him to watch all of that happen. “Grace was seeing bad memory, question?”
“Yes… I was.” It’s been a long time since Grace recovered this memory, long enough that he should’ve told Rocky about it by now. But it’s hard to admit to your closest friend that you’re not the person they thought you were, and more than anything, Grace fears losing the companionship he and Rocky have built. He wouldn’t even blame him - Grace hates himself enough for it, it would only be fair for Rocky to hate him too. So he doesn’t offer to explain what exactly he was experiencing and hopes that Rocky doesn’t pry.
He should know better by now. “Grace tell Rocky about memory.” No ‘question’ afterwards.
Grace knows from experience that Rocky is very, very stubborn. When it comes to Grace’s amnesia, Rocky takes an approach that Grace likes to generously refer to as ‘aggressively supportive’. But this memory in particular is one that he’s held onto for all this time, one that’s steeped in fear and shame. He can’t talk about it, he just can’t. “I’m sorry, Rocky, this - I can’t talk about this one. It’s too much.” He hopes that his sincerity in saying this will be enough to convince his friend to let it go.
“Talking help,” Rocky insists, and Grace can’t even begrudge him that, because it’s usually true. When he talks to Rocky about how he’s feeling, he tends to feel better about it afterwards. “Grace keep hidden, it get worse.”
He’s right about that, too. The longer Grace keeps this secret, the more it starts to feel like a festering infection. Still… “You’ll think less of me.” His voice is quiet. He looks away from Rocky, curling up further in his uncomfortable position on the floor. He still hasn’t bothered to sit up; he just lays there. The blanket protects him from the chill of the hard ground, but it can’t protect him from the coldness of fear in his heart. “I don’t want you to be mad. I don’t want you to - to not want to be my friend anymore.” It sounds a little childish, but it’s honest, almost painfully so.
Knowing that Grace isn’t looking, Rocky resumes his tapping. It might be a bid for attention, might be a reminder of his presence. Either way, it’s oddly comforting. “... Why Rocky be mad, question?” The notes of Rocky's voice are quiet and slow.
Well, now Grace has no choice, does he? The hesitance with which Rocky asks that makes Grace feel guilty about ever keeping it from him in the first place. “I already told you that I wasn’t the first choice to be the scientist on this mission, right? That the other two… didn’t make it?” He looks over again and sees Rocky tilting his carapace in a ‘go on’ sort of gesture. “I didn’t… well, I wasn’t a volunteer. I only found out I was their backup the moment I was asked to go. I only had a few hours to decide.”
“Very little time.”
“Yeah.” Grace sighs. He can feel his heart rate rising again as he gets to the hard part. “I… I couldn’t say yes. It was so little time to prepare, and I… didn’t want to die. Even when I knew how much was at stake, I couldn’t agree to it. I was scared… I was a coward.” Rocky stops tapping again, and the silence feels suffocating. “They had to force me to come.”
For a long few moments, Rocky is completely silent. The lack of response gives Grace the urge to start rambling, to continue explaining himself or start begging for forgiveness or even just cry, but he doesn’t do any of that. If things need to be quiet while Rocky considers what’s been said, then Grace can give him quiet. He shifts, finally sitting up properly so that he can wrap the blanket tighter around his shoulders. Rocky moves with him, keeping close to Grace’s side.
Eventually, Rocky speaks again. His tone seems carefully neutral, like he’s reserving judgment until he has more information. “Grace say ‘forced’. Other humans make threats, question? Pressure to change answer, question?”
“The word for that last thing would be ‘coercion’,” Grace says, just to avoid answering the question for a little longer. “And no, it wasn’t any of that. I… I told them that, no matter what, my answer wouldn’t change. But that wasn’t acceptable to them. They needed it to be me, I was their best option. Nobody was as qualified as me, nobody had the knowledge I had, the only ones who did had just died. So, they - they -” He takes the deepest breath he can manage, hiding his face with trembling hands. “They chased me when I tried to run away, and when they caught me they held me down so I couldn’t move and drugged me so I’d go to sleep.” He shivers, feeling his limbs twitch at the reminder of being restrained. “And since I couldn’t wake up, I couldn’t stop them from putting me on the ship. That was the memory… how scared I was when they pinned me, and -” He can’t bring himself to finish the sentence.
This time, Grace gets an immediate response. “Forced to sleep, question?” Rocky sounds downright horrified. Grace hears a couple of steps, then feels a hesitant touch on his arm. Ah, right, he hadn’t even considered what being knocked out on purpose would mean to Rocky, whose species is so vulnerable during sleep that they evolved to always keep watch. “Bad bad bad, Grace. Other humans -” He cuts himself off with a high and loud whistling noise, one Grace has heard before but never at this intensity. Rocky is angry, more so than Grace has ever seen him. He seems like he can’t even find the words to express it. “Humans hurt, force, scare Grace… very very very wrong!”
Grace is aware, on some level, that what happened to him was bad. Objectively speaking, it was a violation of his rights as a human being, and subjectively speaking… it was scary, and it was painful. But as much as he hates that Stratt did this to him, he thinks he hates himself even more for being such a coward and forcing her hand. “Rocky… they only had to do that because I refused. Because I was weak and selfish and didn’t want to die even if it meant that millions of others would.” He doesn’t understand why Rocky isn’t getting angry at him. Doesn’t he get that Grace isn’t the brave human he thought he was? It’s not like Grace really wants Rocky to be angry, but some part of him feels like he needs it, needs someone to admonish him the way he thinks he deserves.
“Not okay for other humans to force,” insists Rocky. “Grace decision good or bad does not matter. Should have been allowed to make decision no matter what. Grace not ‘weak’, not ‘selfish’, but even if was, no excuse to chase, hurt, force to sleep.”
“Not selfish? How can you say that?” Grace tries to read Rocky’s body language. Other than the claw that still rests gently on Grace’s shoulder, a touch that feels way too kind, Grace can’t tell at all what Rocky’s thinking. “How is it not selfish to choose yourself over - over the whole world?”
Rocky considers that one for a while. He’s clearly being more careful with his words than usual, another kindness that Grace feels too guilty to fully accept. “... Grace was scared. Too much pressure, not enough time for big decision. Want to live is natural instinct. Decision under pressure does not define whole person.” He presses a little more firmly on Grace’s shoulder, as if to say, ‘listen to me, I mean what I’m saying’. “Grace decision is… need word. Maybe not best, but able to understand reasons. Would give… mercy.”
“Forgivable,” Grace whispers. He doesn’t want to give the word, he doesn’t feel like he deserves it, but maybe that’s why Rocky asked for it in the first place. Because he knew that Grace wouldn’t deny teaching him a word he needed, and wanted to get him to say it in hopes that it would help him accept it. A dirty little trick to play, just for the sake of making him feel better.
Grace can’t even bother to be ashamed of the tears that start to roll down his face.
“Yes. And, even if past Grace was selfish, Rocky not care. Friend Grace of now is kind, brave. Turned ship around to save Rocky and Erid at big cost to self. Would Grace call that selfish?”
Well, Rocky’s got him there. His biggest reason for turning around was that he couldn’t bring himself to leave Rocky to die, but he also can’t deny that choosing to go help save Erid felt like a way of repenting for his failure to make that choice for Earth in the past. “No… I guess not.”
“Good.” Rocky’s voice sounds the way it does when he’s successfully solved an engineering problem. “Love Grace. Will hug now so Grace feels better.” Must be time for Rocky’s emotional support routine. At this point, he’s so matter-of-fact about it that it’s almost embarrassing.
When Rocky does stretch out to hug Grace, the embrace isn’t as tight as it normally is, which Grace appreciates because he’s still feeling a little twitchy from the memory of being held down. Is Rocky keeping his hold gentle specifically because he remembers what Grace said about being pinned? Apparently, there’s no end to the list of ways that Rocky can intuitively accommodate Grace. To be loved is to be known, or whatever it is they say.
Once the tears slow down and Grace’s vision is a little less blurry, he turns his attention back to the laptop. The video file is still open, stopped on a black screen with the little ‘replay’ symbol displayed in the center. When he closes it, he sees the other file in the folder, ‘Letters’, and clicks on it. Hopefully this one won’t contain any unforeseen triggers.
The first line reads, To help you on your journey. I typed these up because there wasn’t space in your bag for both the notes and the drawings. At least this way there’s no risk of damage. Hopefully these make you smile. It’s not signed by anyone, so there’s no indication of who put this together, but there aren’t too many options for who it might’ve been, anyway. Grace scans the document hesitantly at first, but once he realizes what the letters are and who they’re from, he starts to pay attention to every single word.
Mr. Grace,
It’s so cool that you’re doing science things with the Petrova line!! I wish they’d tell us more about what exactly you’re doing so I could say something better than ‘science things’ but apparently it’s very secret. Anyways, I think that’s awesome! When you get back I wanna know everything about it!
- Cynthia
Notes from his students. Grace knows he’s going to cry again, but tries to hold it back at least until he’s done reading them all.
Mr. Grace,
They said you won’t be back for a while. The other teachers aren’t as fun though so come back soon okay? Oh and don’t tell them I said that.
- Kai
Mr. Grace,
I hope you’re having fun out there, wherever you went. The science stuff you’re doing sounds very important but it’s also important to take breaks! Don’t work all day! I know you might not want to take my advice because I procrastinate all the time (sorry) but I mean it, self care is important!!! I put three exclamation points so you know how important it is!
- Mizuki
Mr. Grace,
I’m not really good at these kinds of things but I hope everything’s going well for you. Your class is kind of the only one I really feel accepted in so I hope you come back soon. That’s a compliment by the way, not a guilt trip. See, I told you I’m bad at this. I’ll see myself out.
- J. D.
In total, there are twenty-five short notes, one from each student in his last class before he left. He remembers every single one of them, and as he reads through them, he can sense each student’s unique personality shining through even in such a short message. He’s always been relieved that the amnesia didn’t mess with the memory of his kids, and now, he has pieces of them that he can carry with him for the rest of his life.
It’s not of any interest to Rocky - he doesn’t have his little camera device with him, and Grace hasn’t even taught him to read English lettering yet - but, dedicated as he is to supporting Grace, he stays in the hug the whole time Grace is reading.
Once Grace has read through them all multiple times, he finally leans back, pressing his weight more firmly into the embrace. “They’re messages from my students,” he says to Rocky. “When I think about what I miss from Earth… they’re the most important thing. They’re what made me want to stay.”
“Grace is good teacher. Students must have been happy.”
“Aw, Rocky…”
“Grace is also pushover. Students must have been happy for that also.”
“Hey! You could’ve stopped at the compliment!”