Chapter Text
Everything’s in order.
I run over my mental checklist for what has to be the 10,000th time. The Taumoeba- half for me, half for Rocky. Rocky has set up his ship for travel back to Erid, and I have mine set up for travel back to Earth, courtesy of his gift of astrophage fuel.
I even, by chance, noticed a problem with the nitrogen-resistant Taumoeba- they can get through xenonite. Probably from evolving in Rocky’s breeder tanks. Jeez, that could’ve been disastrous. His ship is made of xenonite. If I hadn’t seen that-… well, I’m just happy I caught it in time. Now Rocky will go home with his Taumoeba in plastic containers.
And… with that… I think… we’re actually done.
It’s… surreal. I feel the need to mentally check over and over again, as if there’s something I’m missing but it never stops being true. The task of this mission, when I first woke up and started piecing it together, seemed so impossible. But here we are. We did it. Together, just us two guys. And now all that's left to do is... go home.
Yeah. Just go home. Just split ways forever with this alien who’s saved my life, who has been my constant companion in a relatively tiny tin can for months. The little dude I can confidently call my very best friend.
Said best friend stands before me now, behind the thin layer of xenonite that separates our atmospheres so we can stand beside each other, in this tunnel he made to join our ships. I can’t help but get wistful, looking at him, knowing this will be one of the last times I ever see him.
You wouldn’t think the magic of first contact has any chance of fading, but surprisingly he’s become very mundane to me by now. I take a moment to look at him as if with fresh eyes, and let that sense of awe and wonder I felt the first time I saw him take over me again.
Us two, intelligent lifeforms evolved on two very separate planets so many trillions of miles away from each other. Our atmospheres, fatal. Our ways of experiencing the world, incomprehensible. Yet here we are. Despite all the ways we’re so very different, we’re just as complex and real as one another, just as capable of thought, compassion- love.
And we, who met so far from our homes, each of us desperate and hopeless- I think we really do love each other.
I don’t know if I’ve said that to him yet. But I think it’s one of those things that you just don’t even have to say. The things we’ve been through- yeah, maybe this is a little assumptive, who knows, but I just might suggest it’s the kind of experience not many people can relate to.
I’m so unfathomably grateful to know him. If he could come with me to Earth, I’d easily choose to spend the rest of my life with him. But he’d be homesick. He belongs in his world. I don’t know much about it, but I know however it's like, it’s just as immensely beautiful and complex as mine. It wouldn’t be fair.
“So… this is it, huh?” I say to him, as he checks over his last things he’s already checked a hundred times. I think he’s stalling just as much as I am. He dragged his things back into the Blip-A with hesitance and using every excuse to pause. It’s kind of funny to see an alien lifeform so transparently show the same stalling tactics people use when they don’t really wanna leave.
You’d think we’d be in a rush to get home. You’d think we’d be sick of each other by now. I think that says something about the strength of our bond.
Something that’s gonna just kill me for the rest of my days, mark my words.
Across the xenonite wall separating our sides of the tunnel, Rocky drags a claw along the floor and sways unevenly.
He says something in his musical Eridian notes. “Rocky… no want to say goodbye,” my laptop translates, though by now I can mostly understand a lot of his words.
“… Me neither, buddy,” I admit to him.
He shuffles. “When Grace leave… Rocky never see him again,” he says. “Even if go to Earth right after deliver solution to Erid. Grace will die before Rocky even get there.” His carapace lowers. “Not… fair.”
“Yeah,” I agree softly. “Not fair. I know.”
“Earth human evolution bad bad bad for make Grace live only 100 year at most.”
“I know, buddy. It sucks,” I empathize. “Wish I had whatever Eridians were having to make you guys live for centuries.”
He sulks. I don’t want to leave him on such a bad note, thinking about my- for him- relatively soon death.
“But hey, we saved our stars. Made first contact for our species. That’s pretty cool of us,” I say, more positively. “I know I’ll be thinking about you basically the whole way to Earth.” No. Amend that: “… Actually, I’ll be thinking about you for the rest of my life.”
He hangs there, minute movements of his arms being the only sign of reaction to my words.
Then he says something… unexpected.
“… Grace talk. In sleep.”
“- Oh, boy.” I sigh. “For the record, that’s a totally normal human behavior, okay? Definitely not-”
“Grace sleep-say something concern,” he interrupts, one of his feet tapping in a quick little motion. “Concern Rocky.”
Then I realize this isn’t him getting on my case for being weird. His voice is serious. It’s bothering him.
… I have a feeling I don’t like where this is going.
“… What’d I say, bud?”
“… Say… say…” He sways a little. “… Was like… be attacked. Say ‘no, no, no’. Say, ‘don’t put me on ship’. Say, ‘I want to live’. Eye leak. Scary.”
… I was really thinking there was no way this would come up before we parted ways. That I’d never have to reveal this to him. It’s almost comical, how obvious and overt my sleep-talk apparently was, betraying me.
“… I see,” is all I can say.
“What… Grace… remember in dream, question?”
I’ve told him about dreams. How they can throw you in weird scenarios, sometimes represent memories. I didn’t think he believed me, honestly. His carapace had twitched back and forth, legs stuttering in that motion he seems to do when he’s skeptical or confronted with information that doesn’t quite compute.
But I guess there’s no denying it, when you watch your friend mumble and cry in terror from something that isn’t there.
Nonetheless, I try to deny it.
“Oh, look, don’t worry about it, buddy,” I say, trying to give him an unbothered smile. “It wasn’t a memory. Just a nightmare. Remember I told you about those? One time I had a dream Earth was having a zombie apocalypse. Like, on top of the astrophage situation. It was so-”
“Grace.” He taps the edge of his xenonite emphatically. “Tell.”
… I should know better. Rocky doesn’t let things go so easily. He sees right through me, and he doesn’t respect silly human things like politeness norms. I gather Eridians are far more direct. They expect their friends to tell them everything. … Or at least that’s how it is with Rocky.
“It’s nothing,” I nevertheless say, forcing a laugh. “My dumb human brain was just-”
“Tell. Command.”
My breath catches in my throat.
I hadn’t noticed it, until he said that. Even though I’ve known Rocky for months, I still don’t quite get the nuances of Eridian body language and vocal expression. In my defense, Eridian emotions don’t exactly seem to map onto human emotions. Broad strokes: stress, glee, surprise. The more complex shades, like sadness- however such a word can be applied to an alien intelligence- are often lost on me.
But now I notice. I can’t say I know for sure what it is he’s feeling. Maybe there are no words that map onto it exactly, like there are no words in Eridian to be used for the color green, so he has to call the textured bumps on his light display middle-rough. But there’s been a definite change in the way he expresses, moves, speaks. And it’s something that stops me dead in my tracks.
“Moment when Grace in Rocky ship. Grace was smile. Have fun. Enjoy. Then, sudden, Grace stop. Try to hide it. But go quiet. Heart move fast. Grace act weird ever since. Hide in corner. Make human distress behaviors.”
As he speaks, he launches into a tight pacing back and forth along the wall, in a short radius around me. Even without a face, I know all of his attention is right on me. It feels so intense, that despite the fact I’ve spent every minute of the past few months around this being I know full well to be intelligent and kind and my friend and my savior, there’s this animalistic part of my brain that automatically feels an uncanny terror at the strange-to-me motion, like this is a predator and I need to run.
Of course, I kick that rodent part of my brain, because it’s a total idiot.
“First- Rocky believe something go wrong with Rocky," he continues. "Possibility: Rocky hurt Grace feelings. But not make sense.” He pauses. “Realize problem possibly from Grace mind. Grace might… have mind-trouble about something. Possibility: … Remember something bad.”
… He offers me no choice. I need to come clean.
“… Yeah, um. I…”
I rub my arm. I don’t know why. I remember the prick of the needle stabbing into me again. I shudder a little just thinking about it. Boy, I just really hate needles. I could barely get through a blood draw without being sedated, you know. So that just makes it extra-...
... The sense of betrayal is the worst part. I don't know how to grapple with it. I guess I have plenty of time to figure that out on the lonely 4 year journey back home, though.
... I take a deep breath, bracing my back against the xenonite tunnel wall I’m already leaning against. I stare at my hands. “… I… didn’t… choose to come on board the Hail Mary,” I tell him. “I didn’t want to go. Truth is, I… the people in charge, they, uh…” I give a shrug, as if this is something casual. “… Decided to force me.”
In my opinion, that should be all I have to say. But of course it isn’t.
“Earth force Grace on Hail Mary. Force Grace go space. Give not enough for return home. Make Grace die. Question?”
His voice is shriller than I’ve ever heard it, with the sole exception of when we were at Adrian. I’m reminded of the smell of ammonia and smoke and death breaking out past waves of unconsciousness. I claw my fingers into my legs.
“… Yeah,” I whisper.
“Explanation!” He rams his foot against the wall. His lower legs tremor. “Request!”
I make a sigh, trying to collect myself before I explain. “There were two scientists who were supposed to go ahead of me,” I say. “There was an accident. They both died.”
He freezes, emanating quiet clicks as he listens to me. I watch him in my peripheral vision.
“I, uh, kinda was never given the memo that I was the third in line. I thought I was only there to help with the-” I wave my hand- “y’know, uh, learning about the astrophage, and everything. I definitely wasn’t signing up to…” I take a shuddering breath, and let the rest be implied. “… But they needed to launch in three days. There was no time to find another candidate.”
He leans closer. I feel the clicks in my body. It’s funny, to physically feel someone’s watching gaze on you, all over you. To know every gesture, every movement, every flick of your eye and every twitch of a toe is seen and witnessed and catalogued in that alien brain that doesn’t seem capable of forgetting anything.
“I… was a coward. I didn’t want to go,” I say, forcing a little laugh, like it’s a joke, even though it feels like barbed wire in my mouth. “… So… they… drugged me. Forced me onto the ship. And… now here we are.”
I conclude with a forced smile up at him, like it’s a funny little story.
He’s silent. Just watching me. Seeing right through that smile, like he sees right through everything else.
“… It was… the right choice,” I offer quietly in his silence, even as my throat threatens to close with the beginnings of tears. “I mean… you and me, we saved our stars. That’s billions of people on my planet and yours saved. So. Yeah. I’m uh… I’m… actually glad it happened. I’m glad it was… me. Yeah.”
I don’t like how quiet he is. It’s like he’s… thinking about something.
He says something, so low I feel it reverberating in my chest. The computer doesn’t pick it up, or doesn’t understand it.
“What was that, buddy?” I ask, a little nervous for some reason. Maybe it's the Eridian word for disgusting sniveling coward.
“Terrible,” he repeats. "Sad sad sad."
“Yeah,” I admit. “It was a terrible situation.” I take a deep breath, blinking back the tears in my eyes, and huddle against the wall with my arms wrapped around my chest. “But it’s alright, now. We saved everyone. So.”
Again, for a moment, he’s quiet, the claws on his hands fidgeting and flipping like he’s considering.
“... When Grace sleep… Rocky look at Earth thinking machine Grace give me,” he says. “Rocky want-ed try learn human knowledge of radiation.”
I furrow my brow. First of all, I’m amazed he got a set up to work with it so fast. Second of all, I have a feeling I don’t like where this is going, because Eridians seem to have roughly culturally compatible norms about not randomly changing the topic. “Oh yeah…?”
“Learn of…” He pauses. “Learn- new word. Big big big explosion danger weapon evil bad bad bad bad make radiation. I call-” He gives me his word, and I drag the laptop toward me to quickly input it, even though we are only hours away from our final goodbye and I can’t imagine it’ll have much use.
“Oh, boy,” I sigh. Good gosh, there’s something so… acidically shameful in typing the words nuclear weapon into your ad-hoc first contact alien communication program. “Yeah, uh… look, I’m embarrassed about that. You know, on behalf of my species. And my country in specific. I’m American, by the way. That’s like, the most obnoxious kind of human nationality. So you kinda got a bad deal here.”
If I'd ever given him the word obnoxious, I imagine he'd be saying, Yes, Rocky noticed. But I don't think I have, and even if I did, he doesn't seem in the mood to tease.
He is quiet for a moment. “Human-s… very scary.”
… Those words punch me in the gut.
“… You guys on Erid… don’t have any weapons like that?”
He stomps his foot so aggressively, jumping against the xenonite barrier. “No! Obvious not! Erid not crazy!”
I laugh, even though it must be very serious to him. “No kidding? Erid sounds great.”
“Yes! Compare to Earth Erid very peaceful! No- fight fight big battle. No big everyone hurt each other. None none none. None what Earth do.” Again, he starts pacing. “On Erid, everyone safe and comfortable. Help each other. Yes often argue. Sometimes fight physical. Rare, individual, even try kill. But not not not-” he stomps his foot heavily- “as much like human. Human-s are crazy.”
It’s weird. I feel so… ashamed. Not only did he now know that I was a coward, but that my species just kinda sucked. Man, I thought I was handling this first contact thing so well, especially given I'm, y'know, an untrained non-astronaut school teacher and total pathetic loser. Of course it has to end on this high note.
“I’m sorry,” I say candidly, for lack of anything else. “I… I’m not who you thought I was.”
“No.” He hits against the wall, like there’s something I’m not getting. “Grace is good human. Good good good very kind kind smart smart smart human. Rocky understand there many good human like Grace. Do good thing. Like make Rocky movie and karaoke.” I chuckle a little, despite myself. “But also many bad human. Many many many bad human.”
“… That’s true,” I admit. Though I'm not sure on the good human thing. I mean, I've never launched a nuclear weapon. But, still.
“Bad human put Grace on ship against will. Bad human kill Grace.”
For some reason, despite all my anger and betrayal at Stratt (and trust me, it is… boundless), something in me chafes against that assertion. “Hey, buddy, they weren’t bad,” I protest gently. “It wasn’t about hurting me, it was about saving Earth.”
He shakes his carapace. “Human-s never expect-ed Grace to return. Expect-ed Grace die here. If Grace return…” He traces the xenonite wall separating him from me with his claw. He speaks urgently, as if it's another one of those many somethings he's thought of but I haven't: “… Possibility: Human-s try to kill Grace.”
I shoot up straight. “No, what?!” I laugh. “I’d be a hero! I mean, I saved the friggin’ planet! Why would they wanna kill me?!”
Again, he paces, harder than before. It almost looks angry to me, though I don't think it is.
“Can not trust,” he says. “Can not trust.”
“… Yeah, I, uh… understand not trusting the species who made nukes,” I admit with a nervous little laugh, rubbing the back of my neck.
He stops, lifting his carapace a little. “Rocky has idea.” He lifts his arms in the air, waving them frenetically. “Grace come with Rocky to Erid.”
“- What?”
He sways from foot to foot. “Grace launch Hail Mary probe-s so Earth okay, and Rocky take Grace to Erid! Erid will help Grace. Find way keep Grace healthy and alive. Build home for Grace. Find way grow plant from Hail Mary so Grace not starve. Grace live safe.” He lifts his arms high, holding up his carapace. “Everything okay!”
“Dude-” I laugh, shaking my head. It’s a sweet idea, not gonna lie. But I belong on Earth. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m gonna have to pass. Thing is, I kinda miss double cheeseburgers a lot, and I doubt you guys got them on Erid, so…” I stand; I’m getting sleepy, so I want to terminate this conversation so I can get ready to go to bed. I tell him, more seriously, softly, “Grace going home.”
I put my hand against the xenonite barrier. He raises his own, and slowly, hesitantly, matches it.
“… Understand.” His voice is quiet and discordant with some emotion.
“Cheer up, okay?” I encourage him, giving him a smile. “Earth isn’t gonna kill me, I promise.” I can see he isn’t convinced, so I add: “How about this: You watch me sleep one last time, and then tomorrow, we’ll split ways, and us two cool guys are going back to our homes heroes?” Apparently lost in thought, he doesn’t protest, so I add, “Let me bring my blanket stuff back over.”
As I walk back down the tunnel, though, I hear him chime.
“Grace. Grace sleep in Rocky ship. Request. Like sleep-over!”
… I guess it’s only fair. He’s slept in my ship so many times. It’s not gonna be comfortable sleeping in that bulky xenonite suit- but my comfort isn’t what’s important to me.
“Okay, but we need to make sure I have enough oxygen,” I tell him.
“Obvious.” He holds up a finger. “Wait. Rocky will help Grace.”
“Okay?” I watch him bound off down his dark tunnel.
I guess the help is with the clunky awkward xenonite suit he made me. He brought it back over to his side of things, so I guess he has to go get it.
When he comes back, though, that’s not the only thing he has.
My jaw drops, as he slinks out of the expanded airlock- slinks- in a more form-fitting suit of his own.
“Whoa-ho-ho, what’s this?!” I say positively, grinning as I size him up. The suit is a little awkward and clunky, like the one for me he’s currently carefully negotiating out of the airlock, but it works. At the ends of two of his arms, each attached to a handle which he holds with his actual hands, are little pinchy claw things. He holds them off the ground as he moves.
“Work very very very hard on Rocky exo-suit like Grace have while Grace sleep. More good than bubble. Can-” He raises the little hand things, and squeezes the internal handles, letting them snap- “grab thing.”
“Awesome!” I say emphatically. “Good job, dude!”
I don’t know why he expended all the effort; we gotta say goodbye in less than 24 hours. But maybe he’s had this in the works for some time now.
“Will help Grace put it on,” he states.
"I can do it on my own, pal. Don't worry."
"Will help Grace", he repeats insistently, tapping his foot with emphasis as he comes toward me.
I smile. All the little excuses to stay as close together as possible in the short time we have left. Hey, I'm right there with him. "Alright, Rocky will help Grace, okay."
… As we prepare for me to board the Blip-A, I feel more and more worried.
Rocky’s acting so… odd. Quieter. Stiffer. I guess he’s still troubled by everything. I don’t blame him.
As I fiddle with my light I'm bringing, and as he’s finally checking the seams of my xenonite shell to ensure everything’s to plan, he suddenly pauses a moment. He puts a hand over me.
“… Grace… trust Rocky, question?” His claws gently fold in against the xenonite, as if wishing he could take hold of me.
In the shell, I can’t really hear my laptop’s synthesized voice. But I understand the Eridian words traveling through and vibrating into my container.
I smile. “I would trust you to do open heart surgery on me, pal.”
“What mean?”
“Means Grace trust Rocky very very much. More than anything.” I put my hand against his. “… I love you, Rocky. You’re my best friend.”
He leans in more, pressing himself against the barrier between us. “Rocky love Grace too.”
I relax into the reverberations of those words. How awesome and beautiful is it, that I could be here with this guy?
Once I’m all prepared- and he checks the seams an additional five times to ensure my safety against his atmosphere- he wants to carry me over there. Like he doesn’t trust me to walk on my own. I don’t mind. Guy is super strong.
The Blip-A is gorgeous, just like last time. Starlight flits through the unintentionally transparent xenonite, and even in this little world extremely heavy with toxic ammonia that would kill me literally instantly if there were even a tiny crack in my suit, I feel completely safe.
Rocky handles me with such care. At every last turn, even before we knew each other, he’s done everything to ensure my safety- filling my side of the tunnel with a gas mix that he carefully took the steps to make sure was breathable for me, manufacturing gravity at a level comfortable for me by matching my centrifuge system even though his ship wasn’t designed for it.
Yeah. I trust him more than anything.
As I drift to sleep- which by now I’m thinking I can do anywhere if only Rocky was watching- I imagine Earth.
I’m honestly both giddy and exhausted just thinking about how I’m gonna reveal that 1. I’m still alive 2. I saved Earth 3. I did it by being the first human to make freaking first contact with an alien intelligence. But mostly I’m thinking about what comes after.
Getting to go outside again. Feeling rain on my skin again. Seeing people. Getting lost in crowds. Feeling anchored against the cradling gravitational pull of my homeplanet and not the artificial acceleration of my spaceship.
Going to museums, zoos, art galleries. Cafes. Seeing my students again (jeez, they might be older than me by then- thanks, time dilation, you hideously cursed quirk of physics). Science labs. Animals. Nature. Dragonflies, trees, ancient fossils.
Tears fill my eyes, the smile unable to leave my face just thinking about it.
I’m so beyond thankful to Rocky, for saving my life. For giving me the chance to go home.
Every minute on Earth, I’ll owe to him. In a way, he’ll never be leaving my side.
I take comfort in that- because I know I’ll miss him horribly until the day I die.
A sense of movement wakes me a little. I blink my eyes blearily open just in time to catch Rocky escaping back the xenonite tunnel toward the Hail Mary; I left my light on so I could see him as I drifted off. I can’t imagine what would be making him leave my side as I sleep, let alone what in my ship. Maybe there’s an emergency I can’t hear from in here, but he’s moving at a slow, steady pace.
My sleepy mind decides to believe he’s probably just getting something he left behind, and I let myself fall away to sleep.
…
I’m woken up by movement. For a moment I’m thrust into a panic, thinking maybe the centrifuge system’s gone out of control again- but my disorientation quickly resolves when I see Rocky, cradling me as he carries me back to the Hail Mary.
“Oh, it’s you,” I say, rubbing my eyes. “Good morning.”
I can’t hear really almost anything, but I can tell he doesn’t reply. He doesn’t say a thing to me the whole way back, even as we pass through the airlock, even as he unbuttons my xenonite suit. And then he backs away, giving me space to do the rest.
“… Uh. You okay?” I ask, as I climb out of the shell like a bug. He lurks against the wall at the edge of the room.
“… Yes,” he finally says.
I frown. I can tell something is seriously wrong. That’s far from the normal way he carries himself. The thought of goodbye must be still really hitting him hard.
“… It’ll be okay, buddy,” I reassure him again. He doesn’t budge. “Humans are all gonna celebrate me, just like Eridians are all gonna celebrate you. We’re gonna go home heroes, and see everything we love again, and it’s gonna be awesome. Sooo… fistbump?” I kneel down and put my fist out to him.
Rocky doesn’t fistbump me back. He doesn’t even move an arm.
“Come on, buddy. Don’t leave me hangin’!” You know what? We only have a few more hours together. Who cares?: “Fist my bump!” Yeah, sure, it’s fist my bump now.
But even that doesn’t get a reaction out of him. He’s as stiff as-… well, as a rock.
“Okay. Look… you’re easily the coolest friend I ever made,” I tell him. “I don’t wanna say goodbye to you either.”
He finally makes a real motion, taking a step toward me. “Grace won’t say goodbye.”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I mean, trust me, I wish I could spend as much time with you as I can get. But I can’t. I know your planet can hold out for a few more decades, but Earth has got to be having it rough, and if we procrastinate even a day that probably means more lives are lost than otherwise would’ve been.” I kneel down beside him. “So… don’t… make it harder than it needs to be, okay?”
But still- no reaction. No response. He just… stands there.
I sigh. “I’m going to go do one last check on the flight path. Then, I’m sorry, but we just got to get going.”
He stiffens, but I don’t take much note before I turn around and start heading up the ladder to the-
… It’s sealed.
The pilot room hatch door is blocked by a translucent layer of xenonite, sealed impenetrably into the ceiling. The only mode of access now is on Rocky’s side, through his hamster tunnels.
“… Uh.” Fruitlessly I paw at the rim of the xenonite. Of course it doesn’t budge. It can stand up to Rocky throwing himself against it, let alone a human’s squishy little primate hand. “Uhhhh.”
… A cold sense of dread unfurls in me. My heart starts to pound.
Grace won’t say goodbye. Now I start to understand what he means.
”Hey, Rocky? I… can’t get into the pilot room like this.” I say, as if he wouldn’t know that. But it has to be a mistake, because Rocky wouldn’t do this to me. “Do… you think you can open it?”
“I change-ed Blip-A and Hail Mary course to Erid,” the emotionless synthesizer voice sounds. He repeats his promise: “Grace won’t say goodbye.”
… Should’ve shown him 2001: A Space Odyssey. ‘Cause if I heard “I’m sorry, Grace. I’m afraid I can’t do that” in that voice I’d be just as terrified but at least kinda find it funny and oh, god, how is that what I’m thinking about is this actually happening?
“… R-Rocky…”
My hands feel like cold pillars, where they hook around the ladder frozen. I can feel my breath in my throat, coming out faster and harder, every inch of my suddenly cold skin, as I stare at the sealed hatch, willing this impossibility to stop existing.
“Rocky… come on, buddy, I-I need to go home.” I force a smile as I say it, like it’s all a joke, like we’re all having fun. I guess that must be my usual response to being betrayed or something. “You- you want me to go home. Don’t you?”
Behind me, 5 alien feet take a step toward me.
“… Erid will be good home. Grace safe with Rocky there.”
I hear the alien trills more than the computerized voice. I feel them in minute vibrations on the ladder I’m frozen stuck to. Fleetingly I wonder why Mary made the cabin feel so cold. Oh, god, I had the chance to go home- no, no, he wanted me to go home! Even if it meant him going home six years slower! Rocky saved my life. I trust him more than I have ever trusted any human. So how could he-…?
Slowly, I look back at him, as if my dumb human brain expects I can find some kind of relatable tell in his face that can reassure me this is all some big prank he’s doing to show off how he now understands human humor or something.
But there is no face. On the being standing below me, made of what looks to me like solid rock, holding itself up on its five hinged limbs, there is no face to speak of at all. Let alone one that can make such a nuanced expression.
And he’s looking more alien to me than he has since the moment we met.
“Please not be scared Grace,” the alien tells me, making another step toward me again. With no barrier separating us, I feel a burst of fear from it that I haven’t experienced since our first days together. The clicks under his voice reverberate in my chest. “Rocky do this because love Grace.”
“That’s what this is, huh?” My voice trembles, as I fight to keep my discordant smile as if it’s some shield. I feel like I’m about to lose my mind. “You- you kidnapping me? For ‘love’? Well, that’s not how we do that on Earth!”
“Rocky is save Grace. Keep Grace protect-ed.”
“No, no no no- I- I need to go home- Rocky, my sun is dying! I-!”
“You finish packing beetles with Taumoeba and information.”
“Y-yeah, but-!”
“Rocky already send beetles off to Earth for Grace. Now Earth will be okay. Grace will be okay.” He raises the two limbs facing me up high in the air like a jumping spider, waving them in a circley gesture that I suppose is meant to be reassuring. “Everything okay.”
“No.” I think I’m beginning to hyperventilate. “No, everything’s not okay. I want to go back home!”
“But home will kill Grace.”
“Home will not kill Grace!” I jump down from the ladder, and stumble in my panic. He doesn’t move. “Believe me! I’m telling the truth, Rock’! You have got to believe me!”
He just… stares at me. Or whatever the equivalent is on a being without a face.
Then he speaks. “First Rocky thought: human-s so smart. Make thinking machine. Make smart space machine. Much smart-er than Eridian. Better than Eridian. … But, Rocky learn more. Then Rocky start think different.” His carapace lowers slightly, tilting. “Earth is… weird planet. Human-s are weird species. Very smart. But dangerous. Much hurt human-s give to each other. Fight war instead of come together. … Send Grace to die against will.”
He steps toward me, and I flinch back. He recoils slightly. I feel the ensuing clicks in my bones, and they feel like an invasion into my very cells.
“… Rocky understand: Earth is good good place. Is very sad if Grace not go back. But also, Rocky understand: Earth is not safe place for Grace. No point in send Grace home, if Grace not even live to enjoy home.” He leans toward me. “… Grace only 33 year-s old. Good good good human. So young. Not deserve to die. Deserve protect-tion. I keep safe.”
My hand runs down my mouth, as panting breaths escape it. I think I’m going to go insane. It’s- it’s just a simple misunderstanding, right?! I have to explain to him- then he’ll change his mind, and we can go back. It’s not too late, it’ll be okay, right?!
“No. No, no no no no. You’re wrong, you’re wrong, you’re wrong. Earth is safe. You don’t get it. You’ve never been there. I mean, come on, how could you not trust the human on this?!" I laugh, like he's just being silly, like this is all something we're gonna laugh about later- even though all of a sudden the thing I'm terrified of most is this later suddenly existing between us. "You’ve got to let me go back.”
But Rocky doesn’t move. Doesn’t budge.
… Rocky has proven himself to be a rational person. Intelligent. He always trusts me on human things, even when he thinks they’re weird and make no sense- I mean, just like I always trust him on Eridian things, because how the heck would I know any better? Him having access to my thinking mach- computers doesn’t change that. Him fearing for my safety on Earth, I know it's got to be part of why.
... But it can't be the only why.
“… That’s not the only reason,” I say, “isn’t it?” My voice is hollow.
Rocky stiffens. I can tell I was right at once.
He contemplates. When he speaks, his voice is slower than normal. “Human-s don’t deserve Grace. Not even many other Eridian-s deserve Grace. … Possibility: Not even Rocky.” Again, he steps closer, even as I instinctively flinch. “But Rocky is the one who will keep Grace. Who will make sure Grace is as happy and safe as possible, as Grace deserve. Humans can not be trust with this. Logical: Grace belong with Rocky.”
… I sink to my knees slowly.
I get the uncanny sense that this alien being's thought process is being massively truncated to fit inside my English words, and in reality is so much bigger and more complex and strange to me than I can even begin to see. All at once I think I don't truly understand Rocky, and never have. Every word he's spoken to me has been a translation, something I've offered him from my human world- a system that works well enough to communicate, but not to truly, fully understand him as much as he understands me.
There is no amount of arguing to change this. And I’m at this alien’s mercy.
He’s stronger than me. His materials are stronger than me, or anything on my side of the atmosphere that I could throw at them. I could never overpower him.
He slowly lifts a hand toward me. I don’t run from it, because the twisted thing is, now I know more than I ever did that he presents no danger to me. He will do anything to keep me safe and happy.
And that’s my doom.
… I feel sick to my stomach, as the robotic hand at the end of his suited arm makes contact with my cheek. It slowly drags down.
“… Grace love Rocky,” he says, as if reminding me. “Grace… trust Rocky.”
“No.” I slowly shake my head, rising on trembling legs, stumbling away from him. “No, Grace does not trust Rocky. Grace will never trust Rocky ever again.”
He jerks back, like I just hurt him.
“No. No. Grace will trust again. Grace will feel okay again.” He follows tentatively. “Grace like touch, yes? If Grace let Rocky hug him, Grace will feel better. Things will be better. Will trust Rocky again. Let Rocky hug, question?”
Those stone arms, etched with carvings of alien meaning, raise threateningly toward me. “Don’t-” I jab a quivering finger at him, and he stops in his attempt to pursue me- “don’t you dare come near me right now. Okay? Don’t you dare.”
... I don’t know why I go to “hide”. There’s no hiding in this stupid tin can. Rocky can hear me no matter where I go. A fact that was funny, often comforting, if often exasperating too.
Now-… now it…
… I curl up in a corner of the dormitory room. Rocky lets me, because he knows as well as I do the futility of it. Occasionally, I can hear his clicks reverberating through the steel walls of this prison, finding me, invading me, checking on me.
I tighten my balled-up posture. I squeeze my legs, trying to get a grip on myself.
I’m staring down the barrel of a 4 year long journey to an alien world. My only company is my extraterrestrial kidnapper.
The human brain cannot endure 4 years alone. It can barely endure 24 hours alone.
Especially not mine. I’m weak little coward, after all. It doesn’t take me long to break and let him hug me.
… It's significantly less than 24 hours.