Chapter Text
I hold my finger up in front of Rocky.
“One,” I say.
“♩” he answers. I quickly capture his song with my microphone and jot down the translation.
<1>
I stare at the screen for a moment. Well, we’ve got two words now. Hm, no, it’s more like we have one word and one motion: The number one and good (jazz hands). My fingers rest at the keys as I turn over a question in my mind.
What next?
I guess I could go through the rest of the numbers. Then move on to addition, subtraction, multiplication, division, but… all of that—that’s just math—that’s not talking. Not really. I want to learn about him, have a conversation, tackle real problems. I need more than math to get that!
I peek my head around my laptop. Rocky’s standing there, patiently, waiting for me to talk to him and yet, here I am—on my computer—not talking. Come on, Ryland, there’s gotta be a way. A way to talk more than math!
I feel some sweat run down my brow. I’m tempted to wipe it away quickly and get back to torturing myself, but instead, I take a deep breath and slowly dab it off with my shirt.
Let’s start thinking logically.
I need something simple but elegant. Something that can act as a gateway, a pinhole for us to look through and widen together. I need something he and I can really connect with each other on. Something—something like a universal truth.
A universal truth.
Truth… true...
True… false…
Booleans.
Boolean Algebra.
Yes! Yes, that’s it! Boolean algebra can answer the most universal question: What is true, and what is false? Oh, oh, and that will lead right into AND, OR, and NOT; essential logical operators for any discussion, scientific or otherwise!
But how do I know that he’s familiar with boolean algebra? He seems really smart, I mean, he was able to figure out my atmosphere composition just by cracking open the xenonite capsule I sent back (I’m pretty sure that’s how he did it). But I can’t operate on blind faith here. I need proof! How can I prove that he’s familiar with the subject?
Well, boolean algebra is really just the study of true and false values. It commonly uses 1 to represent true and 0 to represent false. It also deals with logical operators such as AND, OR, NOT, NAND, and many more to achieve certain outputs. In the world of electronics, those outputs are represented by machine code, which is an array of 1s and 0s. So, in other words, boolean algebra is the foundation that drives our modern, digital world.
So knowing that, what can he show me, or what can I show him, to prove that his people are familiar with these concepts? I guess I could straight up show him a circuit board, but how do I explain what it is? Maybe I could wheel up one of the robot arms and—wait. Oh my god. He has a robot arm! It’s on the outside of his ship. That’s what caught the capsule when I threw it over. Ryland, you idiot!
Okay, okay I really like this idea, and I want to execute it, but he and I only know 2 things right now: good (jazz hands) and 1. I need to get him familiar with the concept of 0 first. After that—well, after that, I need to be able to show him I’m comparing true and false values.
I have no idea how to do that with my hands. In fact, I don’t think it’s possible. I need something physical, some kind of tool or model, to explain to him that I’m comparing things. I need to take a trip back to the Hail Mary.
But I’m getting ahead of myself here, we’ve gotta learn what 0 is first, and before we cover 0, I need to cover the number 2. Why? Because if I lower my finger now and just say “zero”, I feel like that would be pretty vague. I know he’s smart, but explicitness is king right now.
I hold up my hand with my fingers forming a peace sign. Rocky mirrors me.
“Two,” I say.
“♩♭” he answers.
His voice is quite… pleasant. It’s seems to bounce between a flute and a cello, but it also has a bird-like quality? Not sure about that. I really like it though.
<2>
I’m watching him with great care as I slowly bring my middle finger down. “One,” I say before then bringing my index finger down and forming a fist, “zero.”
“♭” he responds.
<0>
Okay, that should do it. We’ve got what we need to start boolean algebra. To start a real conversation! I place my hand against the xenonite wall and pull myself to my feet. I feel heavy. Heavier than I should be.
Oh dang, am I tired?
Yep, I’m tired. Exhausted really.
Well this isn’t gonna fly. Not when I have a planet to save and an awesome alien to talk to!
Rocky looks at me… or I at least I think he does? He’s been turning toward me since I came back in the tunnel. I think he’s being polite? I figured out he uses echolocation about an hour ago, so I know he’s definitely not doing it out of necessity.
“Hey buddy,” I say, motioning toward myself and swinging my arms back to the airlock. “I gotta go back to my ship. I need to find some things for conversation.”
I point toward myself and him multiple times. “I want to talk to you so bad! We’ll start with true or false questions and figure out the rest from there.”
He is silent, as I kind of expected him to be. Everything that’s coming out of my mouth right now is total gibberish to him. Suddenly, I feel a bit stupid for talking as much as I do. Hopefully he doesn’t find it offensive.
I pick up the clock I brought in a while ago. It’s got blue tape on the glass so Rocky can see the numbers. It’s about 4 pm now, but how much time do I need to find stuff to talk to him with? Maybe 2 hours will be enough? That feels like a long time for him to wait… I point at 6 pm anyway.
“I’m gonna go, okay? I’ll be back at 6 pm.” I put my hand to the foggy xenonite glass. He does too. I can tell he wants to talk as much as I do, maybe even more. I point to myself and then back to the ship. “I’ll go now. See you later.”
I back away, nearly stumbling over the xenonite capsule he sent me. I left the oxygen molecules by the computer for safe keeping because, me being me, of course I’d slip on the only thing in the hallway, knock the model out, and smash it to bits. Assuming it can be smashed to bits.
He’s still looking at me with his hand to the glass. Gosh, I feel so bad leaving him here but I’m sure his crew will keep him company in the meantime. I turn around and quicken my pace to my airlock. I step in and purposefully leave the door open because what’s he gonna do, come over and trash the place?
I hop on the ladder to the “biodome”, as the Hail Mary labels it. Kind of insulting considering it’s just a room full of screens but I’m sure I’ll need it eventually. Once the Earth is safe and I’m floating in the void, waiting for death. Jeez that’s grim.
Before I know it, I’m in the dormitory.
“Coffee,” I demand. The NannyBot heeds my call and quickly fetches me a pouch of the sacred liquid. I’m gone before it even has the chance to set itself back over my cot.
I sip constantly while looking through the lab. I need something tactile, something he can feel. There’s so much stuff in here it’s crazy! I search through at least a half-dozen cupboards. There’s beakers, tubes, nozzles, measuring tapes, heating elements, safety glasses, plastic bags, string, more measuring tapes (how many do we need, Stratt?!). Oh, and there’s more regular tape.
Hm…more regular tape. I look over my shoulder to the whiteboard near the hatch. That’s not a bad idea, but it would be a total pain. Apply tape, make a word, then remove and begin again. Too darn slow. We need to iterate through concepts quickly.
I look through a few more cupboards before I find it: The Holy Grail. Sticky Tack! A lot of it. Like so much I can’t believe I’ve been blessed with an amount so large. I squeal with happiness as I snatch up as much as I can. I can make anything with this stuff! Symbols, shapes, models, baby we got it all!
A toothy smile stretches across my face before I sip more of my coffee. This is really, really good. I’ll start with boolean algebra as a base and we can expand from there. I think I am gonna bring that whiteboard up, actually. I can tape out my alphabet for him later, teach the concept of words, sentences, subjects, actions, verbs!
Woof, I think I’m getting a little too excited! My heart is racing! Gotta calm down.
I open the drawer with the extra tape and loop a few around my arm. Then I head over to the whiteboard and carefully twist it off it’s mobile base which has been thoughtfully designed with human-friendly thumbscrews. The board itself is big and awkward so I’ll have to come back for the base later.
I climb back up to the control room and gently place my stuff into the airlock. While I’m there I take a quick peek into the xenonite hallway and… he’s still there. I step closer to the doorway and he perks up. He even waves at me.
I narrow my eyes. Am I even sure that’s him? What if that’s some other Erid-ian. Eridian? I wave back just to be polite and look at my watch. Somehow it’s already almost 5 pm. I take a sip of my coffee before noticing that I’ve drank it all. Dang, I really lost track of time.
Hm, in any case, I told him 6 pm and I intend to keep to that time. I make a few more trips to the lab, picking up the base of the whiteboard, more Sticky Tack, string, and a few beakers. I then head down to the dormitory and collect a few bags of water before heading back to the airlock.
I grab the whiteboard and tape before stepping out into the xenonite tunnel. The walls are pretty opaque, but some of Tau Ceti’s light still breaks through, casting an array of different colors as our ships spin. It’s actually kind of beautiful.
Awkwardly stepping along the uneven ground, I watch a warm yellow light shine over the Eridian’s body. I glance at them before taking another careful step forward. That’s definitely still Rocky. He has his hands pressed to the wall. I can hear him clicking as I set the whiteboard down.
It hardly takes any time at all for me to retrieve the rest of my things and bring them close to the barrier. I can tell he’s excited. One of his front legs is tapping quickly, and with great interest. I look at my watch. 15 minutes to spare, heck yeah.
Plopping myself close to the barrier, I pull a box of sticky tack out of my vest. This startles Rocky for a moment, but he quickly relaxes as he sees me open it. Once he realizes that it’s a malleable substance I am gifted a round of jazz hands. I mirror him immediately.
“Yeah, Rock-ay! Time for a real conversation, buddy!”
I scoot back a bit as I create a handful of crude spheres and cubes. Spheres are TRUE and cubes are FALSE. Next, I create a few equals symbols (=), AND symbols (∧), OR symbols (∨), and NOT (¬) symbols. And last, but certainly not least, I create a 1 symbol and a 0 symbol.
Okay, let’s set up our key.
1 = TRUE
0 = FALSE
Hm, it’s suddenly just occurred to me that he doesn’t know what an equals symbol is. I don’t think that’s a huge deal but I’ll backtrack a bit just to make sure there are no screw ups here. I create a few plus symbols and one 2 symbol.
1 + 1 = 2
“Okay Rocky. 1 plus 1 equals 2,” I say.
I look at him with my eyebrows raised, yet he’s still quiet. Yeah… that was probably way too much information. My bad. I hold up both my hands.
“One,” I say, lifting my index finger on my left hand. “One,” I repeat, raising a mirrored finger on my right. I slowly bring the two together until they touch. I raise another finger on my right hand and lower my left hand. “Two.”
Hm, still nothing. I feel like that was a pretty good explanation. What am I doing wrong?
He starts tapping the glass, I think he’s pointing at—oh, the microphone! I never grabbed it. Come on Ryland stop screwing this up. I lean over to the computer, pull it onto my lap, and hold the microphone close to the glass.
“1 ♭♪♩ 1 ♪ 2.”
Ugh, he answered so fast too. He probably got it on the first try and was just being polite, waiting for me to realize my mistake.
<plus> <equals>
“Yeah, Rocky! Amazing!” I say, giving him a thumbs up. He starts excitedly tapping the floor with 3 of his legs and responds with a double thumbs down of his own. Not quite a thumbs up but I love the enthusiasm!
Okay, now that we’ve got that under our belts, I want him to understand that we are moving completely away from this kind of math. I slowly and intentionally scrape my addition problem away, destroying every symbol in it.
This is brand new stuff Rocky. Pay close, close attention.
1 = TRUE
0 = FALSE
I gently pick up an extra sphere and point to it. “1 equals true.” I then place the sphere back down and take a cube. “0 equals false.”
Rocky makes some kind chirping noise. It’s very pleasant so I assume it means agreement. I’m going to move on for now.
TRUE OR FALSE = TRUE
NOT TRUE = FALSE
“True or false equals true,” I say, pointing at each symbol. “Not true equals false.”
“True,” I state, while holding a ball for him to inspect.
“♩♩” he says. Success! I repeat with the remaining symbols and each time he trills back a new collection of notes. I smack each translation into the computer as fast as I can. I feel like I’m on cloud 9 right now! Talking with a real alien!
<true> <or> <false> <not>
I hastily make a new set of questions.
TRUE AND FALSE = FALSE
TRUE AND TRUE = TRUE
“True and false equals false.” I point to the middle symbol with my index finger. “And.”
“♫” I hear, and I quickly type it in.
<and>
I’m grinning so hard right now, I feel like my face might fall off. Okay, so we’ve got the basics. We share a common understanding of what is true and what is false. Now I must ask him a much less direct question. I make a new shape with my hands.
TRUE OR FALSE = ?
I point to the symbols once more. “True or false equals question?” I bring my hands to my chin and furrow my brow. Not sure if he can really interpret that, but he’ll know I’m pausing to do something. I stroke my chin a few times, feeling the stubble.
“True!” I say excitedly, placing a sphere close to the question mark. “Okay, Rocky, now you.”
I point to each symbol and he reads off to me.
“True or false equals ♪♪” he trills.
I nod my head in satisfaction before jotting down another point of contact with Rocky.
<question>
Brilliant. He is absolutely brilliant. I get to work making a new question. I place a question symbol over the first portion of the equation before creating a crappy pyramid. This will represent the answer.
QUESTION (TRUE OR FALSE) = ANSWER (TRUE)
I lean forward, gesturing toward the question mark and the left side of the equation as a whole “Question,” I say, then I point to the pyramid. “Answer.”
I lean back. “Question: True or false. Answer equals true.” I pick up the microphone and hold it to Rocky. “Answer.”
“♯♭” he says with enthusiasm.
I jot it down.
<answer>
I’m about to ask him another question when I see words appear on the screen.
“Question: false and false equals... Answer, question?”
He’s testing me! Oh my gosh, he’s actually testing me!
“False!” I sing, to an immediate jazz hands response. I ecstatically send my own back.
“Equals false! ♬ ♬” he warbles.
“Yes?” I ask, pointing the microphone at him. “You said yes?”
“♬” he gently repeats. I’m pretty confident he’s saying what I think he is.
<yes>
“Question: Not yes. Answer?” I ask, intentionally pitching up my voice. I bring him the microphone again.
“♬♫”
<no>
“Okay!” I say excitedly. “Let’s do names!”
I get to my knees and pull on my vest a bit, bringing my name patch close to the barrier. “Grace.”
Uh, he makes some kind of burping noise? Now he’s pointing at me. Dude, really? I get a burping noise and—and that’s just me?
Maybe I’ll get a cooler name once we get to know each other a little better.
<Grace>
I point toward him and a series of beautiful notes pour out. I fight off a chuckle at first but the notes just keep coming… and coming… and coming. I really hope I didn’t get stuck with a narcissist.
<Rocky>
He retreats back from the glass slightly. He’s beginning to motion toward me.
“Grace and Rocky equals ♬♪♪♩ Yes, yes, yes!” he proclaims, bringing forth his jazz hands.
“Grace and Rocky equals good?” I parrot, without realizing. “Oh, Grace and Rocky equals good! Yes, yes, yes!”
<good>
“That is freaking awesome!” I say, tapping my screen vigorously. Okay, so maybe he’s not a narcissist? That was pretty sweet of him to say. Although, who says narcissists can’t be sweet?
“Question: Not good?” I ask, eager to find more words.
“Answer: ♩♪”
<bad>
Ah... who knew learning to talk could be so satisfying? Thank you, George Boole; your work has built the foundation for the first human-to-alien conversation (and friendship I hope). Bet you never saw that coming!
Still, for as great as this has been, I think we’re running out of concepts to cover here. Hm… maybe I can squeak out one or two more abstract ones? Rocky seemed to understand what was happening when I paused to think. I’m gonna press him on that. I recreate the equation that taught him <question>.
TRUE OR FALSE = ?
“True or false equals…” I hum, scrunching my brow and bring a hand to my face. “Grace think… think… think,” I say.“Answer: true.”
I grab a ball and place it near the question mark. I can tell Rocky’s getting this. I point toward him.
“Question: Rocky think. Answer?”
“♫♩♪♯♪” he replies, bringing a thoughtful claw to his body.
<think>
Okay… what next? Hm, he knows that I ask questions and that I think to get answers. He knows that we both know things. Ah, but there will be times when we don’t know things. About each other. About the universe. We need to know when the other doesn’t know. When we don’t understand.
“Rocky,” I say, and he brings the claw back down. “Question: True or false equals? Grace answer equals true. Rocky answer equals true. Grace answer equals Rocky answer. Grace and Rocky understand.”
I point my hands between him and me. He begins doing the same. Stay with me buddy.
“Question: True or false equals?” I continue. “Grace answer equals false. Rocky answer equals true. Grace answer bad. Rocky answer good. Rocky understand. Grace no understand.”
I press my hand to the glass, I feel like I just read a whole poem to the guy… I really hope he’s getting this.
“Question: Rocky understand? Answer?”
“Answer: ♭♭♫” he replies, pressing his claw back. “Rocky ♭♭♫ Grace.”
<understand>
I breathe a sigh of relief. I feel like I was asking a lot on that one, but boy did he deliver. I don’t think it took him a half second to answer me.
I rub my hands together excitedly. I think boolean algebra has gotten us as far as it can. Time for numbers! I pull out another couple boxes of sticky tack and gently move my existing symbols to the side. I create a few sets of the numbers 0 to 9 (this was not easy, believe me), as well as some addition, multiplication, division, and greater than and less than symbols.
I arrange our number key, as well as our first array of questions:
0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
2 + 1 = 3
“Two plus one equals three,” I state.
“Two plus one equals ♩♩♭”
<3>
I run through the rest of the numbers, as well as basic subtraction, multiplication, division, fractions, and comparison. I only start to slow down when I notice that Rocky has started listening to me more than he’s actually looking at the symbols, at least I think he is? He was pointing his body (Carapace? Carapace.) toward the material for a while, but it’s since turned back to me. Is he really just… internalizing all of this, no external tools or anything? How smart is this guy?
<4> <5> <6> <7> <8> <9> <minus> <multiply> <divide> <less than> <greater than> <over> (as in 1 over 4; 1/4)
Okay, so we’ve got basic math covered now. What next? What’s something universal? Something we both experience? I look at my watch. Holy crap. It’s 10 pm. I’ve been talking to him for 4 hours… but I don’t want to stop. I want to keep talking and talking until I collapse! I keep looking at my watch.
Time! We both experience time! I quickly lift myself off the ground, releasing a few cracks from my joints as I stand. Rocky seems displeased with me as his carapace lowers. He presses his hand against the glass.
“Grace, question?” I read out on the screen. I’m not sure what to say, all I did was get on my feet. I reach around the whiteboard, grabbing the mechanical clock. I sit back down and he relaxes. Huh, strange. Did he—did he think I was leaving? Did that upset him?
“Rocky, good?” I ask, pressing my hand against his.
“Yes.” I hear, although, his usually musical voice sounds—sounds oddly flat.
I motion toward the instrument.
“Clock,” I say, and he shares his version.
<clock>
“Clock answer question. Clock answer time.” I’m careful with my words here. I do not want to mess up such an important concept. He makes another sound, which I shall henceforth recognize as time.
<time>
I relax my shoulders and feel for the knobs on the back of the clock. I spin the hour arrow in the reverse direction.
“Time…” I pause, suddenly realizing that I don’t have enough words to describe this. I’m sure I could fumble through it but… I need to get across that this movement, this direction, is reverse.
I stand up again, which prompts him to immediately touch the glass. Don’t worry Rock, I’m not leaving you, buddy. You’re the most interesting thing out here! Oh, that’s another abstract concept that would be handy. Thing: a generic term for any uh—thing!
I step back, still facing him. I lift my arm and point ahead of me.
“Forward,” I say, walking toward the glass.
“Backward,” I say, moving away from him. He seems pleased now. That’s right, you little alien rock spider, I’m still teaching!
“Left.” I shuffle to the left, careful to avoid my whiteboard.
“Right.” I shuffle to the right.
Hm, I think I’ll throw in two more directions.
“Down,” I say, crouching to Rocky’s height. He’s clicking again, tapping his leg for extra definition. I lift my body back up and throw some jazz hands. “Up!”
He mirrors me, bringing out his own pair of jazz hands while spinning around. Gosh he’s so cool. Like, cooler than like everyone I know… knew. I quickly sit by him with my microphone in hand. He repeats the motions I performed in the exact same sequence, without even a hint of difficulty.
<forward> <backward> <left> <right> <down> <up>
That was the longest string of words yet (in one demonstration). Excluding numbers and math stuff, we must have at least 20 words by now!
I begin pointing to everything around me.
“Thing. Thing. Thing. Thing. Thing. Thing.” I say, to his utter unsurprise.
“♭ ♭ ♭ ♭ ♭ ♭” he repeats, effortlessly.
<thing>
I think he’s suddenly realized the incredible weapon he’s been equipped with. He immediately begins pointing toward my computer.
“Thing, question? Thing answer question, question?”
“Yes, ” I reply, “Thing equals computer. Computer answer question.”
I assume he’s asking if the machine serves some kind of purpose, which it does. Many actually. He hums a new tune for me. Another word for us to share.
<computer>
Okay, back to the clock. I grab it and twist the hour hand back again.
“Clock time backward. Answer: past”
“♬♪” he states, confidently, I think. It’s kind of hard to discern tone from music.
<past>
I fetch the clock again, and begin moving the hands forward, far beyond… whatever time it is right now.
“Clock time forward. Answer: future.”
He gives me a new word. I eagerly enter it.
<future>
I twist the hour hand back again, to the current—dang! It’s 11 pm and I’m not even tired.
Wow.
Okay, back to Rocky.
“Clock time not future, not past. Answer: now.”
Rocky taps with each passing second. “♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪”
<now>
“Now, now, now, now,” I read out from the display. This guy is absolutely showing off right now. I’m a fan. I throw more jazz hands.
I continue going over a few more time-based concepts with him, such as the time length of a second, a minute, and an hour. I expected them to be difficult to explain, but Rocky’s intuition is something else.
<second> <minute> <hour>
All righty, we’ve now got: true, false, logical operators, names, good, bad, understand, numbers, comparison operators, time, measurements of time, directions, questions, answers, and “thing”. Man, at the pace we’re moving, Rocky’s gonna be fluent by the end of the week!
So what’s next? Perhaps a little physics. Motion, velocity, friction, gravity. I open up a few more packages of sticky tack and create a sphere about the size of my palm.
I place the sphere in front of me when I notice he’s begun working on something himself. Kind of rude. Starting up a project while I’m trying to talk to him.
“Hey,” I say, to which there is no reply. “Rocky?”
He’s still at it. Okay.
“Bad,” I say pointing at him. “Rocky, bad. No.”
Jeez… I sound like I’m scolding a dog here, I even managed to slip into that tone. I refuse to talk to him like this. I need more words to describe my anger.
“Rocky, I am speaking words to you right now, Rocky, these are words in a long arrangement, most of which you probably do not understand, still I can see I’m getting your attention, yes, that’s right, stop working.” I wheeze as I run out of breath. I don’t think he liked that, as he’s dropped his tools and has two hands smacking the glass.
“Grace! Grace! No, no, no! Bad, bad, bad.”
I take a deep breath in, refilling my lungs, and suddenly the flurry of notes he’s been pummeling me with start to slow.
“Question: Grace, thing? Answer: talking.” I huff, condescendingly.
He emits an irritated mess of sharp, spiky notes and gives the glass one good smack. I’m pretty sure most of what he said was expletives, but I’m irritated, so I don’t really care. He lowers his carapace, and for a second, I think he’s gonna launch another tirade, but he doesn’t.
Oh no… is—is he sad. Did I really just make him sad? What’s wrong with me? God, I see him working on something, something that might even be for me, and my first reaction is to provoke him??? Am I the evil space alien in all the movies?
“Grace, bad.” I assure, pressing my temple to the xenonite. “Rocky plus good. Rocky minus bad. Grace, apologize. Apology. Rocky understand?”
He chirps something at me but I don’t catch it. I go back to my computer.
“Yes. Rocky minus bad. Grace ♪♫♫”
<Apology>
More words appear.
“Grace, thing, question? Answer: ♭♪♪♭♫”
Oh man, he was even listening while I threw my verbal fit? He’s gracious to be forgiving me like this.
<talk>
“Grace apology. Apology.” I repeat.
“Grace good. Good, good, good.” Rocky assures. Such a nice guy. He goes back to working on his thing, but brings it closer to the glass. He’s got his carapace pointed toward me, so I’ve got a good look at what he’s doing now.
He’s creating some kind of curved wire for some reason, along with a few spheres. Interesting. I wonder if he’s building some kind of machine? Oh, maybe he was planning on explaining physics to me? Aha! One step ahead of ya Rocky.
I go back to my sphere and push it gently. As it rolls, I take one hand and move it alongside the ball. With the other I motion in the opposite direction.
“Force,” I say, emphasizing the hand moving with the ball. “Force,” I repeat, now shaking my hand moving in the other direction. My eyes dart back and forth between him and my demonstration. For a moment, I think he’s tuned me out—which I can totally understand because I was being mean—but then he gives me the answer.
<force>
Phenomenal. Now we can name those forces. I repeat my backward hand motion. “Force: friction,” I say. I pick up the ball and drop it from maybe 30 centimeters. “Force: gravity.”
This has now flattened my ball.
It’s worth it though. He picks up on what I’m trying to do and gives me answers to both questions (all while still working on his thing by the way).
<friction> <gravity>
I quickly reform my ball and create an additional, smaller one. I rotate the smaller ball around the much larger one in a circular motion. With my free hand, I point toward the larger ball, emphasizing that the force is inward.
“Question: Force. Answer: Gravity. Centripetal Force. Rocky centripetal?”
This seems to spark some additional interest from Rocky. I think he’s realized that I’m talking about planetary motion here. He puts down his tools and the various bits of curved wire he’s been fabricating. He inches closer to the barrier and taps eagerly.
“Answer: ♭♪♫♫.”
<centripetal>
“Grace, question? Answer: ♪♭♬. One, question? Answer: ♪♭♬. Good, question? Answer: ♪♭♬. Clock, question? Answer: ♪♭♬. Thing, question? Answer: ♪♭♬. “
I curl my brow. I have absolutely no idea what any of those words have in common with the notes he keeps repeating. I look at my watch; it’s roughly 12:15 am now. I think I’m starting to feel it. He keeps saying more random words, accompanied by the same notes. I’m starting to think this is less about the words themselves and is more of a general concept? Oh… I am an idiot.
<word>
“Word,” I echo, shaking my head.
“Grace, word, question?” he asks pointing at… well I think he’s pointing at the sphere. I pick it up and look toward him.
“Thing?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Sphere.”
“♫♭♪♩.”
<sphere>
“Sphere and gravity word, question?” he asks, eagerly clicking his fingers.
I guess that could be a couple different things. I take the smaller sphere and rotate it around the larger sphere. I shake the smaller sphere a bit. “Planet,” I say before pointing at the much larger sphere. “Star.”
He, again, gifts me more words to add to our collection.
<planet> <star>
“Grace, planet word, question?!” he squeaks with so much excitement, I feel like my heart is going to burst.
“Grace planet word? Answer: Earth!” I excitedly reply. “ Rocky planet word? Answer: Erid.”
He gives me his words for my home planet and his.
<Earth> <Erid>
As I finish typing out the names for our worlds, I’m suddenly struck by a tightness in my chest.
Earth, my home, everything and everyone I ever knew, they’re so far away now. I’m farther from them than any human has ever been. And I’ll never come back. I’ll die out here, in the vast unfeeling, uncaring emptiness that is space, never having seen another living human again.
At least I’ve got Rocky here, and who knows how many other Eridians are on his ship. That makes it easier.
Speaking of which, where are they? This one guy’s been here this whole time. Shouldn’t there be someone to—I don’t know—relieve him?
“Rocky,” I start, before realizing I need more words to have this conversation. I grab my handful of small spheres and place them close together, while deliberately separating one.
“Greater than one. Word equals many.” I motion toward the group. “Less than two. Word equals single.”
He chirps his answers enthusiastically. Too enthusiastically. It must be nice to still have a crew.
<many> <single>
“Okay. Grace is—” My throat tenses. I don’t think I can finish this sentence. I need to change the conversation. I don’t want to talk about being singular. Alone. Not now.
I lift a ball with my hand and pass it gently to the other.
“Give,” I shakily say, repeating the phrase and motion a few times. I then gently lift the ball from one hand and move it away. “Take.”
He responds immediately. I know we’ve been talking for a while now, but I can’t even wrap my head around how he’s able to pick all these new concepts up so fast.
<give> <take>
I bring the ball close to my chest. “Close.” Then I stretch out my arm, and release a few more cracking sounds, to Rocky’s dismay. “Far.”
He answers and I record.
<close> <far>
“Rocky?” I ask, still holding the sphere far from my body. “Rocky? Where? Close or Far? Sphere close or far? Where? Rocky where word?”
His concentration on his wires seems to be growing, as it takes him a second or two to answer. I don’t hold it against him though, he appears to be an incredible multitasker.
<where>
Well, since we’re already at the five W’s, let’s continue. I rest my arm and lazily push the ball in front of me.
“Grace force sphere. Who force? Grace force. Rocky force sphere. Who force? Rocky force. Rocky who word?”
He answers more quickly this time, maybe my demonstration was better?
<who>
I take the sphere in hand again. “Question: What thing? Thing equals sphere.” I look over at my watch. “Question: What now time? Time equals 1 hour. Rocky what word?”
His answer comes much slower this time. I hadn’t been watching too closely but he’s really going to work over there. He’s got dozens and dozens of curved wires and spheres and even… huh, is that a petrova line?
“♯♩♩”
<what>
My brow lowers again. I think he’s making a model. Scratch that, he’s definitely making a model. A big one. Oh boy… that means he’s planning on talking to me for a while longer yet. I purse my lips. I really don’t think I should be staying up any later than I already have but—but he’s putting a lot of work into this.
I need more coffee.
I stand up, which immediately draws his attention. He’s back to the glass. Man, he really doesn’t like the thought of me leaving does he? But… he knows I won’t leave him for good right? I mean, he couldn’t think that. Not after I’ve spent all this time talking to him.
“Grace, question? Where, question?”
“Grace go to ship.” I stutter. “Grace go-”
Ugh, man, am I sucking at this right now. He needs more information. I lean over and spot the little model of the Hail Mary lying to his right. I point to it, tapping on the glass.
“Thing equals ship,” I say. I make a pair of legs with my fingers and march them down my other hand. “Grace go to Grace ship.”
He tilts his carapace forward briefly, I think that’s a motion of acknowledgment? He repeats the words so that I can capture them, all while keeping his claws firmly on the glass.
<ship> <go>
“Grace go to ship. Take coffee. Grace go to Rocky.”
“Grace now go ship. Future Grace go Rocky, question? What time, question? Far or close? Close?”
He tilts his carapace forward and it joins his hands on the glass. Jeez… he really, really doesn’t want me to go.
Why not Rocky? What’s so bad about me taking a little break?
I crouch down and gloss over him for a moment. I’m not sure why. It’s not like I can extract more information from his faceless, stony body. Still, I feel bad.
I’ll be back soon, buddy.
“Close,” I assure. I match my hands to his and press my temple to the glass. “Grace go ship 300 Earth seconds. Close.”