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Out of the corner of her eyes a quick flash of canary yellow passes by. Before she can call out to him, Grace darts just out of her line of sight. Eva Stratt knew logically that Ryland Grace could not be here. He had died. 11.9 light years from home, shot into space against his will for a mission he had helped meticulously craft with his own two hands. Yet when she was walking through crowds, when giving a press conference and answering mundane questions, she swore she could catch the faint hue of yellow- his favorite rain jacket- and the distinct shade of watercolor eyes that had haunted her for 26 years now. It was the yellow in particular that seemed to follow her wherever she went. A colleague's new backpack, the skins of fresh fruit beginning to line the shelves again, a garishly bright jacket that she stubbornly refused to let go of.
All of it served as a painful reminder of one Ryland Grace. Eva did not mind being haunted by him. She certainly knew she deserved far worse than his ghost.
For a brief moment in the inbetween when she would turn– ever hopeful- she could hope that Grace was where he should be; by her side, waiting to soften her words to foreign delegates and scientists alike. In that moment a fragile hope lived. Hope that Grace would be there. That He would forgive her. It seemed that since the Hail Mary had launched, that Eva Stratt had become bitterly and illogically hopeful. Despite her frail hope, Grace would never be there when she turned to find him. Grace, she knew, carried them all.
Eva Stratt was many things. She was not a woman to be taken lightly. She was efficient, bold, domineering, and at times taciturn. Seldom few that encountered her while working on the Hail Mary would ever dare to call her kind.
Ryland Grace, she mused, was one of the notable exceptions. The incredibly brilliant Dr.Grace who was as smart as a whip and had quickly become her number two on the project. It seemed that he collected the fondness and admiration of those whom he worked with, though was not aware of it himself. Dr. Grace was a humble man, if incredibly full of self doubt. Throughout the project, she had him trained in all of the things an astronaut may need to do faced with the bleak expanses of space. She was not reluctant to do so, the instance of Grace needing to take Dubois or Shapiro’s place on the ship was far from likely; however, If Eva Srtatt was anything, it was through. Unaware of it even himself, Dr. Ryland Grace was the Hail Mary's tertiary science officer. For redundancy of course.
He had insisted on returning to his classroom when the astrophage crisis had resolved. He was a fool to believe he ever could.
Contrary to his own intention, Grace would not see the inside of his classroom for a long time. The simple truth was that even had Shapiro and Dubois not died that fateful day in Baikonur, Stratt still needed Grace. Needed his brilliant mind to guide them through the impending ice age. She needed the way his soft smiles and terrible jokes could sway anyone to his side. More than that though, she needed the way he held his belief in his science so steadfast, even coming to verbal blows at times with the differently opinionated on board. One Dr. Ryland Grace- disgraced academic- had made himself vital to the survival of the world.
All of these possibilities belonged to the before. Before the explosion. Before sending Grace to his death kicking and screaming against the frozen ground of the launch facilities.
Yes, Grace was one of the few that Eva could say would have thought she was kind. Certainly he would not think so now. Eva had not been kind to Grace on the day she asked him to die. On the day she had sent him to die for all humanity–for her. All the weight of the project had come crashing from her lips upon hearing his refusal. ‘ Coward ‘ she had called him.
“Do you really think I needed a middle school science teacher?” The question had been meant to cut deep, to hurt the feelings of the man who had stood by her the length of the impossible thing they had been tasked with. Who had on the few occasions it was warranted, called her out for her absurdity. Who was, in truth, indispensable to the project. It had hurt him, she could see now, through the haze of memory that Grace had been wounded by her words; the telltale well of tears beginning to gather along his lashes. Why wouldn’t he just believe in himself? The thought had tasted bitter to her even then.
Although she did not regret sending Grace on the Hail Mary, she did regret the manner in which she spoke to him. “ I should not have called him a coward. I should have been kinder” was a notion brought to her often. It was one beget to her when searching for those daffodil traces his ghost would leave in her periphery.
Grace had made himself the world's utmost authority on astrophage. Whatever skills he had lacked as an astronaut, Stratt had made sure he had acquired along the way. She could have just as easily had Dubois test the new science equipment in the NASA pools. But why would she when she could have Grace trained in the Orlan suit instead? It was almost too easy to drag him along the sacrificial path until there had been no choice remaining. Until she stood by him holding the knife.
The truth was that he haunted her. In the years since the launch, Eva Stratt could not seem to rid herself of Ryland Grace. Could not rid herself of the memory of him. She knew his death would be on her hands, she could live with that. What she had not expected was just how much she would miss him. It was something that she could scarcely admit to herself even all these years later.
When the beetles had touched back down in Earth’s oceans, she had been able to let go of some of the weight she’d been holding the last twenty-six years. That relief was cut short by the sheer horror of realizing that Grace had woken up alone. Dr. Ryland Grace, made captain by default of being the sole survivor of the Hail Mary on the journey to Tau Ceti. To make matters worse, Grace would have woken up without his memories and absolutely no idea why he was nearing a foreign star. Eva had had to pause the video upon hearing that, struggling against futile attempts to remember how to breathe. Once past the startling beginning of the video logs she had been able to cautiously continue. Not everything he had revealed in the videos had been filled with horror. She had been immeasurably grateful to learn about Rocky. To see that Grace had not been entirely alone was nothing short of joyous. In some small way it felt like absolution. It turns out Rocky had also been instrumental to Grace’s success in finding and breeding the nitrogen resistant taumeoba.
Despite his trepidation and uncertainty as initially displayed in the ships logs, he had saved them all just as she knew he would. Their little taumeoba saviors were doing exactly as they were supposed to on Venus even now. For the first time in years San Francisco was enjoying an actual spring. The flowers were blooming around Grace, tentative sprouts poking out of the ice and snow. The flowers planted around his statue were a luxury afforded to few. However; Dr. Grace being Earth’s savior was well cared for posthumously. Especially here outside of the newly renamed Dr. Ryland Grace Memorial Middle. As she had promised there were statues of him everywhere. Many were of him with the whole crew or with Rocky, but this one was her favorite. In many of the statues, Grace stood tall and proud, looking every bit the astronaut he had become by the end of the mission. However, in this one Grace knelt down, hands outstretched to a child, cupped gently around the beanbag Earth he so loved to toss around. This, she knew, was everything Grace had truly wanted to protect. The future he tried so hard to protect for his children. The children of Dr. Ryland Grace Memorial Middle would not need to grow through the pangs of hunger thanks to him. They would not need to know only endless winter and war. He had given them so much Yes, this is the one statue she thinks he would have liked.
Leaning down Eva places her own small offering by the memorial, a new bright beanbag to add to his collection. Maybe one of his old students would come pick it up. The offerings were frequently picked up by the staff when they grew to be too many and Eva knew at least one of his former students worked here now. As much as she would like to stay, Eva knows it’s time to get back to work. After all she had promises to keep to her ghost. Eva Stratt had a world to rebuild. Now Eva was a hopeful woman. She would do her best to build a world that was a kinder place in thanks to the man she had sent to the stars. Turning away from the statue she pulls her outer layers tighter against her, taking comfort in the well worn yellow rain jacket.