Chapter Text
Grace is acting strange. Well, stranger than usual. Grace has been strange from the moment I met them. I struggle to imagine anything weirder than a creature made mostly of water who moves around by detecting light and sending electrical signals to contract their tissues.
As alien as their anatomy, reactions, and speech are, I gained a good understanding of them during our mission in Tau Ceti. We went through so much together. At this point I know Grace better than anyone I’ve ever known aside from Adrian.
Now that we’re on our way to Erid, I spend every day watching Grace sleep, work, and play their silly human electronic games. I’ve even grown accustomed to watching them…eat.
I’m selfishly delighted I have so many years to spend alone with them. It almost feels like fate that we ended up together. Not fate that Humans and Eridians would meet. Grace and I discussed some theories on why species of similar technological levels would likely meet due to the astrophage threat. But meeting Grace, specifically, out of all the humans that could have been sent to space? That is fate.
I suppose it makes sense that a human willing to volunteer for a suicide mission to save their planet would also be the kindest, bravest person I’ve ever met.
While our time together has been wonderful, shortly after the trip began Grace became quieter. It wasn’t very noticeable at first, but Grace is definitely making fewer noises – speaking or other alien sounds.
Grace was so chatty and exuberant when we first met. Even before I knew any of their language they were constantly talking. It was such a relief to be near social noises after being alone on my empty ship for so many years. Grace would make so many sounds that it was almost overstimulating after endless years of silence, but I couldn't stand to be away from them for a second. When they would leave the tunnel to retrieve things from their ship I could barely hear them. The silence was excruciating.
Once I moved into Grace's ship I didn't have to worry about the silence again. I could hear them almost perfectly at all times. They were always talking to me or making strange noises to themself. It was rare for them to be quiet for more than a few moments at a time. If they were awake, they were talking, whistling in the hallways, humming. Even when they were asleep they made so many noises. Nothing like an Eridian's totally silent dormant state. Grace was always inflating and deflating their air sacs, their chest organ always beating — sometimes they would even talk in their sleep.
After Grace returned to save me from my dead ship there was a subtle change in their sounds. It took some time to notice the pattern, but it's obvious now that there is something very different. They are exuberant and enthusiastic when talking with me, but outside that they are strangely lethargic and quiet. No more singing or disturbing alien mouth noises or talking to themself. The running commentary that Grace used to provide back in Tau Ceti, narrating their actions and thoughts, has totally disappeared.
I’m worried that the trip back to Erid isn’t mentally stimulating enough for Grace. They explained that they and their crew were asleep for the entire trip to Tau Ceti because humans do poorly in confined spaces without environmental variation and mental stimulation.
There aren’t any urgent science problems to tackle anymore. In fact, Grace can barely access the lab while the ship is in thrust configuration. I always have a full schedule of things to work on, but Grace struggles more to entertain themself. I’ll have to think up some problems for Grace and I to work on together.
Grace is lounging on the floor with their portable thinking machine when I approach them. They are strangely silent and still, as usual.
“Rocky want to learn more Grace language. You learn better Eridian also, question?”
They turn to face me with interest. It seems like they are excited by a new thing to work on.
“I suppose we do have a lot of time to fill. Up till now most of our shared language was determined by what we needed for the mission. I can teach you all the vocabulary you want. We can work our way through the dictionary!”
“Yes. Rocky learn all Grace language. Will be language expert!”
“It would be nice for me to get a jump on understanding more advanced Eridian too. We’re going to have to work with a lot of scientists when we get there to figure out the food situation. It’ll be important for us to share more technical vocabulary, so you can pass info along to the Eridian biologists.”
“Yes, yes! Grace teach me all biology words.”
We start off prioritizing vocabulary we think could come up in immediate scientific discussions about Grace’s food and living requirements. I simply memorize all the words and definitions Grace provides, but they are still using their thinking machine to track the new vocabulary.
Talking about human biology leads us to different flora and fauna on each of our planets. That leads us to discuss domesticated creatures and then agriculture. We continue like this for almost a year whenever we both have free time. Much of the vocabulary has simple enough equivalencies in both languages, but some of the abstract concepts and emotions prove more difficult to translate.
"Agh, 'love' is so hard to explain," Grace complains. "So 'love' is when you really, really like someone or something. It's a verb you would use to show it's your very favorite thing. Like, 'I love hamburgers.'"
"Disgust. Why Grace always talk about food, question? Already learn food words. Different example!"
"Oh, oops. Well, it's also a word you can use to express affection for family or friends or mates. A word to show deep appreciation and attachment."
"Humans use same word for deep personal affection and food preference, question?"
"Well, when you put it that way it does seem a bit silly…"
"Eridian words much better. More precise. ♬♫♬ affection verb for favorite object. ♪♩♩♫ for favorite concepts, activities. ♩♫♪ for favorite non-sapient organisms.
"Wait, wait! Let me make sure I'm getting all this down." They slouch over their portable thinking machine and quickly push the buttons.
"Many different verbs for deep personal affection with people. Based on duration and intensity. ♪♬ for new affection. Maybe short. ♪♫♪ for affection with close friend. Can be medium or long. ♫♬♪♫♪ for long, long affection. ♫♬♪♫♪ permanent. Not change with death. Not change with situation or event. ♫♬♪♫♪ important affection. Rocky ♫♬♪♫♪ Adrian."
"Aw, bud! That's pretty romantic. It also seems like a better system than English. There's probably a lot fewer misunderstandings when the language around love is so specific. Okay, I think I have this all recorded. Unfortunately, I'm just having to mark them all down as 'love', but I'll leave some notations in here."
I consider taking this as an opportunity to tell Grace the type of love I feel for them, but they didn't mention their feelings when explaining the human word. Maybe they don't feel exactly the same as I do? I wait to hear if Grace will ask me which word our affection would fall under or offer their own suggestion, but they are quiet as they type their notes into the translation machine. Some of Grace's subtler "facial expressions" are still difficult for me to parse. I think they may be uncomfortable or nervous.
"But…Grace learn Eridian words. Will remember all different verbs, question? Words important."
"Yeah, pal, I'll remember. You won't have to limit your words so much now."
Grace follows through on that promise. They pick up the long list of new Eridian words surprisingly quickly. I’m impressed that they seem to remember it all so well without using the thinking machine translator. I know memorization is much, much more difficult for Grace than it is for me. Humans have a strangely unreliable recall for such an intelligent species.
In the past VVℓ days, Grace has turned off the artificial voice and been understanding me purely by listening to my actual words. Now they can better hear my sub-vocalizations and tone without the artificial voice speaking over me. They still need to check the screen occasionally for vocabulary help, but are close to not needing that either.
While we cover vocabulary I try to teach Grace about Eridian grammar differences. Since we met in Tau Ceti I’ve been speaking Eridian words in an English structure with simplified conjugations, declensions, and tones to make my language easy to understand. It would be nice to be able to speak normally again.
I have barely started explaining Eridian tenses, verb negation, and sentence structure when Grace declares it “too hard”.
“I’ll learn all of this later. We still have years before I’ll need to talk with an Eridian who doesn’t know English grammar.”
“Lazy, lazy, lazy! Grace make Rocky simplify grammar for you like infant!”
“Hey, I’ll get around to it eventually! I’m just…busy.”
Grace hurries over to their computer and starts furiously typing. They aren’t fooling me. They have some scientific articles in progress, but they haven’t worked on them in many wake cycles. They are not busy.
“Grace not busy, statement. Very not busy!”
Grace doesn't respond, very intentionally pointing their head towards the computer to indicate they are ignoring me. Their button pressing gets louder as they continue their charade. They are obviously frustrated by the complexity of the grammar, so I decide not to press the issue right now. Grace can't hide from Eridian grammar forever. They will have to learn eventually if they want to understand anyone on Erid.
While Grace still only understands the Eridian/English mix I use for their benefit, I have become totally fluent in their language. I understand all of Grace’s speech perfectly. Well, perfectly except for all the human “idioms”. I hate “idioms”. It’s rare for Grace to use any individual words I don’t know at this point, but Grace seems to use a new nonsensical phrase every day. Very frustrating.
Only a single wake cycle after the language project concludes Grace is being quiet again. Before our big project they were strangely silent, but would still find reasons to talk with me. Now without an obvious subject of conversation to default to Grace seems uninterested in talking at all. The silence is oppressive after filling all our free time with language discussions for the past year. I need to quickly think of another project.
“Grave give Rocky computer. You say that machine information is shown with writing system. Rocky plan to wait for Eridian scholars to decipher this when we return. Have time to learn now. You know writing system. Grace teach this to Rocky, question?”
Grace sounds excited. “Oh, that’s a great idea, Rocky! I certainly have plenty of teaching experience. I’m sure we can do that.”
The teaching is not going as well as Grace expected.
“Why does ‘E’ symbol not make sound in word, question?”
“Oh, that letter is silent a lot of the time at the end of words. I’m not sure exactly why. I think it signals a lengthened vowel pronunciation or something like that?” Grace pauses while they reference a teaching guide in the human database.
They are much worse at this than I expected. Grace pulled up words on their computer for me and tried to explain the individual symbols as I observed with my texture screen. I am having trouble following their nonsensical explanations.
“So it says here that ‘E’ makes three different sounds. It can be long, short, or silent. Wait, they’re counting silent as a sound?”
“You terrible at explaining human words. Teaching this way will take one million years. Rocky die before you explain all human symbols.”
“I’m a science teacher! I’ve never had to teach someone how to read before! It’s a lot harder than I expected.”
“Too slow. Computer can speak. You make computer display text and say information. I will memorize each word shape. Easier with Eridian memory.”
“You want to…memorize each separate word instead of learning the phoneme rules?”
“Yes, yes. Much faster.”
Grace is very skeptical, but they follow my instructions. I have Grace set up the computer to read stories and scientific articles aloud while I keep my light sensor pointed at the display. We leave it running continually. Well, other than when Grace is sleeping or asks for quiet.
I listen to the talking and the word shapes while I work on my next project — a life-support system for the computer that Grace gifted me! Without some type of controlled environment, the heat of my atmosphere would melt parts of the machine rendering it useless. This is an easy enough problem to fix.
As I memorize all the word shapes, I create an air-conditioned container with Earth atmosphere and pressure along with a conveniently placed camera and texture screen to translate the display. Once that is complete the last step is creating a converter so that the computer can be powered using my generator. Relatively simple to do, but now the computer is sealed inside. If it needs maintenance in the future, I'll have to ask Grace to unseal it on their side of the ship.
By the time the life-support system is done and tested, I have heard and memorized λVℓℓ words. At that point it’s relatively easy to intuit the irregular symbol pronunciation rules that Grace was clumsily attempting to explain. I should be able to recognize new written words now based on the spoken words I already know.
The moment I've tested that the computer powers up correctly and the texture screen is functioning, I race up to the lab where Grace is sitting with their own computer. They are going to be so excited to see my engineering solution for maintaining and using the computer. I've only utilized existing technologies for the life-support and light screen translation interface, but creating a power convertor to account for the very different Eridian and Human electrical power standards was slightly tricky. Grace will be very impressed. They give flattering compliments for even my most basic inventions.
“Rocky finish computer life-support and learn writing system!”
“What?! I mean— amazing job on the life-support system! That's super impressive you found a solution for that so quickly. You’re an incredible engineer.”
“Thank.”
“But there’s no way you learned to read English already. It’s only been three days!”
“Can read. I will prove.”
I set down my computer in the life-support box and open a Wikipedia article about Earth’s atmosphere. I begin to read it aloud to Grace, translating it extemporaneously into the pidgin Eridian Grace can understand. I get barely get a few sentences in before they rudely interrupt.
“That’s not proof! Maybe you just listened to that article read by the computer. You could have just memorized what it says.”
“Grace choose thing for me to read then.”
Grace turns to their own computer and pulls up some text. I turn my light sensor to face it. This does not sound like Wikipedia.
“I’m pretty much screwed," I read. "That’s my considered opinion. Screwed. Six days in to what should be the greatest two months of my life, and it’s turned in to a nightmare... What is this text, question?”
“I can’t believe you actually learned to read like that! Rock, that’s incredible!”
It seems strange that Grace is more impressed by simple memorization and pattern recognition than the computer life-support system that I perfectly planned and built. I suppose my Eridian memory is still novel and remarkable to the alien with the faulty brain. That's fine. I'll take the compliment.
“Thank. Is exciting! Rocky can learn many new Earth things now. I love my computer. Best gift Rocky ever receive. Human machines are incredible. Amaze, amaze, amaze!”
Now that I’m able to understand all of Grace’s words and read about human culture on the computer, I expect us to have so much to talk about. But now Grace is more quiet than ever. They still engage me in conversation when I initiate, but their answers are often short like they don’t want to talk. Most wake cycles they only say a small handful of words. If I don't make a deliberate effort to engage with them, they spend the entire wake cycle in complete silence.
It’s disappointing that Grace’s words are slowly disappearing now that I finally understand them so well.
It’s not just disappointing. Now that the aberrant behavior has gone on for so long I’m getting worried. I thought I had a good understanding of human behavior, but I have only known Grace for a short time. Enough time to gain a baseline for Grace, but it leaves me floundering when there are differences.
Is this change in noise level the sign of a problem? Or is it just a natural, expected change for humans? Maybe humans speak more when they are first meeting and bonding and there is a typical fall off in verbal intimacy and sharing? I just don’t have enough knowledge of human behavior to know.
Either way, Grace dislikes it when I pester them about their functioning. I already push their tolerance for it by ensuring they sleep at the correct time in the ship’s human wake cycle.
Grace is only acting differently in this one way, so I’ll keep it to myself for now. Maybe Grace just needs an adjustment period and will go back to their previous noise levels soon.
I certainly hope so. This ship is just too quiet.
Grace and I are both relaxing in the dormitory, reading separately on our computers. The room is totally silent other than the whir of the spin drives, the soft hum of computers’ cooling fans, and the rhythmic thumping of Grace’s chest organ. I start letting out some rhythmic warbles to fill the room when Grace suddenly gets up and leaves without speaking. It’s not unusual for Grace to want to walk around and “stretch his legs”.
I listen while Grace makes their way up the ladder, climbing past the lab, through the light screen room, all the way out of the EVA room and into the cockpit. I continue reading about human computer construction and weaving a xenonite model, but use a third arm to tap the inner wall of the hull and tilt my carapace to get a better sense of what Grace is doing. Why are they going to the cockpit? There isn’t any piloting to do. The ship is on an automated course.
“Mary, play white noise. Set volume to 100.”
Ugh. I guess they want to listen to that human music that I hate. I suppose it’s considerate of Grace to do it as far away from me as possible, but couldn’t they use their headphones instead? I would still be able to hear it, but it would be much quieter than this.
It’s almost impossible to hear over the cacophony on the opposite end of the ship. The volume of the music blurs Grace's shape and softens their exterior details. The sound of their face is indistinct and fuzzy, but I think I hear Grace start to cry. At first I think I’m mishearing because of the awful “music” confusing my senses, so I abandon my projects to climb up a level to the lab. I tap the hull again and let out some sensing clicks. Now I am sure. There are tears falling down Grace’s face, barely audible.
I have heard Grace cry many times at this point. We’ve never talked about exactly why humans do it, but it is clearly associated with strong emotion. Grace cries when very happy or very sad. I'm unsure what could be happening in the cockpit to trigger such a reaction. I don't know much about human music, but I don’t think there are any strong emotions associated with the awful song.
Most of Grace’s crying in Tau Ceti was the happy type. They cried with happiness when I was able to offer them a way home, cried with joy when I recovered from my oxygen exposure, cried with relief when they came back to save me from my dead ship. I associate Grace's strange leaking with all the happiest moments the two of us have shared.
This doesn't seem like the happy crying I'm used to, but I certainly can’t go up to ask about it right now. Going into the cockpit would disrupt my hearing and it would be difficult to speak over noise that loud. I’ll wait for Grace in the dormitory.
I am back to reading about transistor composition when Grace shuts off the music and begins their climb down. They aren’t crying anymore from what I can hear. I tilt my carapace back and forth, anxiously awaiting Grace’s descent from the ceiling.
Grace climbs down the ladder, wordlessly walks past where I am standing, and lays down on their sleeping platform. I hurry over to my sleep watching spot above them. “Grace is okay, question?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, bud. Just a bit tired. Why do you ask?”
Their voice sounds different from normal. The resonance is slightly off the way it always is after they cry.
Does Grace think I couldn’t hear them crying because of the music? That means they were intentionally hiding it. I’ve picked up enough human social cues to know this means Grace won’t want me to mention the crying. They always get a bit upset when I point out things they clearly meant to be “private”, but I can’t exactly not listen to them in this tiny, echoy ship.
“Rocky glad that Grace okay. You sleep now, question? I watch.”
“That sounds nice. I’ll just take a quick nap.”
I study them as their respiration slows and their muscles relax. If I hadn’t heard them crying just a moment ago I would have no idea from the sound of their body. There’s no trace of it on their exterior that I can detect. There is some swelling in their sinus chambers, but it would be easily missed if I weren’t searching for minute differences.
I feel unnerved that Grace might be sad and it could be unnoticeable if I hadn’t been close enough to hear the crying. It’s a good thing I can keep a close watch on them in this tiny ship.
I was willing to play along with Grace's alien culture and pretend that I couldn’t hear into the cockpit at first when I thought Grace was just having one strange day. Now this is turning into a problem. Grace is going up to cry in the cockpit almost every other wake cycle.
I wouldn’t be concerned if they were crying in the room with me or even nearby. Grace is a very leaky human and has never been ashamed of it before. This is definitely something beyond the standard Grace crying. Even when they aren’t crying, they smile less and I haven’t heard them laugh in quite some time.
Maybe if I tell them I know about the crying already, they will realize there’s no point in hiding it from me. Grace can just tell me what’s going on and I can figure out how to fix it. Then Grace can go back to their normal, happy, chatty self.
The next time Grace returns from one of their crying sessions, I tap on the wall to get Grace’s attention. “Why did you cry in cockpit, question?”
Grace is still climbing down into the dormitory, close to the bottom, when they lose their grip on the ladder and land awkwardly on the floor.
“Oh, you could hear that? Even on the other side of the ship with the loud white noise on?”
“Yes. Rocky hearing is good. Powerful. Much better than weak human hearing.”
Grace fidgets with the edge of their upper garment and shifts nervously before responding. “I'm always underestimating how good your hearing is. Well, I’m sorry you had to listen to that. I’ll try to keep it quieter in the future.”
“I not want you to be quiet. I want you to explain what is strange with you. You cry in cockpit many times.”
“Crying can be kinda personal, Rocky. I know you can’t give me privacy the way a human would, but let’s at least not talk about this.”
Before I can respond Grace starts climbing back up the ladder into the lab, hurrying to get out of the range where they can hear me respond.
I call up at them as they hide in the lab. “Grace will tell Rocky eventually!”
"What?! Sorry, I can't hear you!"
I thought getting Grace to talk to me would be easy once I actually asked them what was going on. They’ve always been so forthcoming before, but now every time I bring up the crying there’s a new excuse:
“I just woke up, buddy. Give me a minute to go do all my human morning stuff. You’re lucky you don’t have teeth you need to brush!”
“Oh, just let me eat lunch first. I’ll head into the other room real quick. I know you don’t love watching me eat.”
“I’d love to chat, but nature calls! I need to run to the head. Be right back!
Grace, of course, conveniently forgets to continue our conversation after they’ve sneaked out of the room. If Grace won’t tell me what’s going on. I’ll figure it out myself. They aren’t the only source of human information around here anymore. Now I have Wikipedia!
I figure the article about crying is a good place to start. I can get a basic idea of the circumstances that trigger it. As I read through the basics, I find my initial assumption was correct. Crying can be caused by strong emotions: “sadness, anger, joy, or fear”.
Grace's recent demeanor seems much more sad than happy. It hurts to think about them crying due to negative emotions, but it would be understandable if Grace were sad. Their selfless sacrifice means that they are risking starvation. Even if the scientists on Erid can create food for Grace, they may never get to return to their planet. I'm sure they miss it. I know how much they love the Earth oceans and beaches. It must be hard knowing they may never experience it again.
The text says that the other common trigger for crying is physical pain. I have unfortunately heard Grace do this on one occasion. When the ship went into an uncontrolled spin over planet Adrian, Grace was pinned between the console and the control chair. The extreme centripetal force transformed the chair into a deadly, inexorable weight. They were being crushed by an object almost as heavy as my weight in Grace's normal gravity.
It was horrible to listen to. Their chest organ began pumping quickly before weakening and beating dangerously slow. The sound of their respiration became wheezy and strange before cutting off entirely. I could tell they were moments away from dying. They must have been in a horrible amount of pain — their fragile body crushed by a massive weight and starved of the gas they need to survive. In that moment right before they lost consciousness, they were crying.
The pain required for crying seems to be severe. When I woke up after saving Grace and horribly damaging myself through oxygen exposure, I found that they had recovered from their close call in the cockpit only to severely burn their arm putting me back in my atmosphere. The exposure to the hot ammonia left them with serious damage that caused them terrible pain.
That pain was bad enough to require "pain medication" that impaired their cognition, yet I don't remember them crying at all during their recovery. I took that to mean that only very intense, potentially fatal circumstances were painful enough to cause crying.
It hadn't occurred to me before starting this research, but pain could be the reason for Grace’s current strange behavior. The idea is terrifying. They could be suffering from physical pain as intense as what they suffered through in Tau Ceti. The pain they felt when they were dying.
The computer has endless lists of possible human illnesses, diseases, and injuries that cause severe pain. It seems like many of these can develop spontaneously too! I hoped that researching this myself would make me feel more in control of the situation, but I feel more helpless than ever. If Grace is crying because of intense emotions then that is fixable, but if Grace is sick or injured any help I offer will be worthless. I am an engineer, not a doctor. I couldn’t even help my dying crewmates who were the same species. How am I supposed to save a sick alien?
The thought that Grace could be ill, maybe even fatally is unbearable. I’m going to have to force the cause of the crying out of Grace whether they like it or not. They call me “pushy”, but whose fault is it that I have to be so blunt?
I can’t respect “privacy” when Grace could be dying. I need to fix this!