Chapter Text
…But it’s not bedtime yet. The sun attains
Old Dr. Sutton’s last two windowpanes.
The man must be-what? Eighty? Eighty? Eighty-two?
Was twice my age the year I married you.
Where are you? In the garden. I can see
Part of your shadow near the shagbark tree.
Somewhere horseshoes are being tossed. Click. Clunk.
(Leaning against the lamppost like a drunk.)
A dark Vanessa with a crimson band
Wheels in the low sun, settles on the sand
And shows its ink-blue wingtips flecked with white.
And through the flowing shade and ebbing light
A man, unheedful of the butterfly—
Some neighbor’s gardener, I guess—goes by
Trundling an empty barrow up the lane.
. . .
Grace leaned back against the xenonite barrier, setting his tablet down beside him. “Well. That concludes the poem part of Pale Fire,” Grace said, turning his head so he could better see Rocky, who was also leaning up against the opposite side of the barrier. “We technically broke the rules of the story by reading the poem before the commentary section, but I figured you would enjoy it more this way. What do you think?”
Rocky stood and paced back and forth across the stretch of xenonite tunnel closest to Grace, silent save for the soft clicks of his echolocation.
“Human poetry is dumb, statement,” Rocky said, after a few moments. “Stupid couplet rhyme scheme, lack of focus in thematics. Dumb, dumb, dumb. The entire forward made it seem like this would be the greatest poem ever written, but it’s so stupid. Why is this a classic novel to humans, question?”
Grace laughed. “That bad, huh?” he said, grinning. “Well, to be honest, I kind of thought the same when I first read it. There are a few good bits, but ehh, the poem itself overall is kind of just…okay. But it gets good in hindsight. Or rather, with context; it becomes interesting once we see the full extent of what it does to Kinbote in the commentary section.”
Rocky stopped and skittered towards the xenonite barrier. He tapped at the barrier, at the level of Grace’s nose. “It is still dumb until proven otherwise,” he said. “And it’ll take a lot of convincing for me to find it good.”
Grace rolled his eyes. “Well, in that case, I guess we’ll have to read more then,” he said, slowly getting to his feet. “I’ve got the reputation of humanity’s taste in poetry riding on this.”
“…acceptable. But only if you do a puppet show,” Rocky trilled, mischievously.
“I am not doing a puppet show.”
“Yes, you are.”
Grace raised his eyebrows at Rocky. “How would that even- never mind. I’ll do a puppet show- but not for this book; it doesn’t really work with this one.”
Rocky trilled again in wordless, lighthearted aggravation, and Grace smiled at him. “…unless you’ve got any ideas for as to how we could express Kinbote’s insanity in puppet form,” Grace amended.
“Nope. But I’m sure we could figure something out.”
“Not me. But maybe you could, though,” Grace said, tapping at the xenonite. Rocky tapped back at him. “You’re a genius; you’re probably way smarter than most humans.”
“I must be, if humans all think Pale Fire is good.”
Grace laughed. “We haven’t even finished the book yet! You can’t—”
“Is joke! Is joke!”
Grace shook his head in fond exasperation. It was the same routine they always had: Grace would introduce Rocky to a classic of Earth media, Rocky would pretend to consider it the most awful thing created, the two of them would bicker back and forth in light-hearted discussions of what they liked and disliked about the work, and then Rocky would introduce Grace to a story or song from Erid that Grace would have to admit—with mock difficulty—was indeed, usually better than whatever Earth media he had shown Rocky, much to Rocky’s smug delight.
It was familiar, it was comfortable, and it was theirs.
It had been so for four years.
Four years. It had been four years since Grace had met Rocky. It was difficult for Grace to believe sometimes; to him, it felt like it had only been yesterday that he had first found the Blip-A, and simultaneously, he could scarcely comprehend that there was a time in which he and Rocky hadn’t known each other.
But it had been four years. Four years in which Grace and Rocky had met each other and formed a friendship stronger than anything Grace had ever known before. Four years in which Grace and Rocky had discovered taumoeba and bred nitrogen resistant strains of it so that their stars might not die. Four years in which they discovered that taumoeba was capable of escaping xenonite containers, and devised alternate breeder tank designs. Four years in which they built probes to send back to Erid with enough taumoeba and data for Rocky’s homeworld to allow them to begin the process of saving their star. Four years in which they had sent Grace’s own beetle probes ahead of the Hail Mary, so Earth could get to work on restoring the Sun as soon as possible.
And here they were now, on the edge of the solar system, so close to reaching Earth that Grace could hardly believe it.
The decision to return to Earth instead of going to Erid had been one of great debate. Grace had argued that they should go to Erid; Rocky had Adrian and the rest of his social circle waiting for him, and Earth had sent Grace on a suicide mission- there was nothing left for Grace on Earth, and he—the ever curious scientist he was—wanted nothing more than to see Rocky’s home and learn all he could about it. But Rocky had wanted to go to Earth; he, too, wanted to see the homeworld of his best friend. He, too, wanted to learn everything he could about humanity and how it operated. He was also concerned that Grace might experience a premature death on Erid; while Erid’s scientists were clearly, obviously brilliant, there was no guarantee that they would be able to synthesize sufficient food for Grace, or tend to any of the various medical maladies Grace might face as he got older. The fact of the matter was, it was safer for the two of them to go to Earth first—even if only temporarily—before thinking about going to Erid.
Grace had protested this, of course. What about Adrian, he had argued. What about Rocky’s family? His friends? Didn’t Rocky miss them? Didn’t Rocky want to see them again?
But Rocky had refused to listen to any of that. He had reminded Grace of his lifespan. Rocky had hundreds of years he could spend with his family, but he only had a maximum of decades with Grace. He had, he said, plenty more time with them—even if it was never truly enough—but so, so little with Grace.
“I love Adrian,” Rocky had acknowledged. “I love my family, I love Erid, and I miss all of them more than you could ever imagine. But I love you too, Grace, and I refuse to cut our already insufficient time together short because you got hurt in a way Erid can’t fix.”
And if Grace had cried until he could scarcely breathe at that declaration, neither of them minded.
So, it had been four years in which they made the trek back to Earth. It had been forever, and it had been nothing at all.
Time was funny like that.
“Grace. Grace, you’re playing dead again,” Rocky said with a tap against the barrier, startling Grace out of his reverie.
“Huh—? Oh, sorry bud,” Grace said, shaking his head to dispel his thoughts. “I was just thinking about Earth, that’s all.”
Rocky hummed at him in a sort of “go on, keep talking,” way.
Grace shrugged. “I don’t know. I just… do you think they’ll be happy so see us? We know that Sol has returned to its full luminosity, so they obviously got the beetles, and they therefore must know we intend to drop by, but- I don’t know,” Grace rambled, gesturing wildly as he spoke. “What if they’re still mad about all the illegal stuff the Petrova task force did and they want to hold me accountable for my part in it? What if they want to lock you up and experiment on you forever? What if they- what if they don’t want to see us at all? I’m just- scared. I’m scared.”
Rocky remained silent for a few minutes, thinking. Then, he moved closer to the xenonite between the two of them.
“I know you’re scared. It makes sense; your last encounter with Earth wasn’t exactly…nice,” Rocky said, darkly, his claws twitching in a strangely menacing fashion. “But, as I will remind you again, you saved Sol. You survived a suicide mission, even if you never wanted to go in the first place. They will see you as a hero. And if they don’t like you? They’ll have to get through me before they can try anything. You know this.”
Grace smiled, resting his head against the warmth of the xenonite. “…Thanks, Rocks. I know I stress about it a lot, I just—”
“I know. Your brain is dumb sometimes, even if you’re smart,” Rocky said, his limbs bending in his approximation of a shrug. “Human memory is bad. It’s okay. I can remind you as many times as it takes for you to remember you’re safe.”
Grace closed his eyes as tears began to blur his vision. Gosh darn it, he was lucky to have Rocky, wasn’t he? The universe must really be a kind and caring thing if it allowed the two of them to meet.
“And I’ll make sure you’re safe, too, Rocky,” Grace mumbled. “I refuse to let them hurt you, I promise.”
“Thanks, Grace, really. But I’m not particularly worried,” Rocky said, gently, resting his carapace against the barrier where Grace stood. “If humanity is anything at all like you, they’ll be too busy crying and being squishy to do anything me.”
Grace gasped and stepped back from the barrier, pointing at Rocky in mock betrayal. “I’m not that squishy!” he protested, unable to keep the smile off of his face. “I don’t think I can do anything to deny the crying allegations, but squishy is where I draw the line!!”
“You’re a vertebrate! Being squishy is the entire point of your classification!” Rocky shrieked with glee. “Humans are leaky, squishy space blobs, and that is a fact!”
“You’re impossible,” Grace said, running a hand over his face. “Just because you’ve got your whole space-spider-crab thing going on, that doesn’t give you an excuse to make fun of the rest of us lesser beings!”
Rocky chittered and moved as if to deliver a devastating retort that would’ve rendered Grace the laughingstock of the universe had it been uttered- but mercifully, he was cut off by a message from the Hail Mary.
“Incoming transmission. Repeat, incoming transmission,” Mary said, with what Grace could swear was a hint of fond exasperation in her voice. “Please report to cockpit communication terminal.”
Grace and Rocky froze, their attention divided between disbelief at Mary’s message, and checking to see if the other had heard the same thing.
“Incoming transmission?” Grace repeated, dumbly. “Like, communication?”
“Yes, Dr. Grace. Origin point appears to be Earth.”
That seemed to break the spell. Grace and Rocky immediately scrambled to the cockpit, eagerly making their way to the communications terminal.
Sugar-honey-iced-tea, communication from Earth!! Fricking fudge, holy snickerdoodle, a message from Earth!! Grace thought as he frantically booted up the terminal. They must’ve used the data from the beetles to figure out when we would be arriving! Or maybe they’ve been trying to contact us for a while, and we only recently got within range of their comms system! Or both!! Holy Moley!
Rocky seemed to be in similar hysterics. He zoomed about in his xenonite tunnels, throwing out jazz hands and trills of excitement. “Contact with other humans!” he shouted, fumbling for his texture gun so he could read the message. “Contact with Earth! Amaze amaze amaze!!”
“Amaze amaze amaze!” Grace repeated, drumming his fingers as the comms software loaded. “C’mon, c’mon, don’t fail me now, Mary!”
At last, the comms software flickered to life, displaying a new message. With shaking hands, Grace clicked on it.
From: The International Cooperative Space and Aeronautics Agency (ICSAA)
Subject: Welcome Home.
Dr. Captain Ryland Grace and Engineer Rocky,
On behalf of Earth and all humanity, we would like to thank you for saving us. The work you have done, the sacrifices you have made, and the prices you have paid in the name of saving us have accrued a debt we can never hope to repay. You are our heroes. We hope you can forgive us.
We would also like to welcome you to the solar system. We understand that your journey here must have been long, difficult, and fraught with turmoil, and we are delighted that you will be returning to the planet proper soon. We hope you are safe and well.
We understand that you are likely facing a shortage of supplies, numerous repairs that need to be made to the Hail Mary, and medical conditions that may need to be treated. We have prepared for these possibilities, and we have prepared a mechanism by which to ensure you may recover from these problems before reaching Earth:
We spent a considerable amount of time in the years prior to our recovery of your beetle probes searching the solar system for any resources we might use to extend our survival. As a part of these searches, we initiated the Jupiter Orbital Initiative (JOI) program, which, among other things, resulted in the establishment of what was intended to be a long-term manned research station orbiting Jupiter. With the arrival of your beetles, the focus of our research in Jovian orbit has, of course, shifted, but the research station (the JOI VII) is still fully operational.
We tell you this because the JOI VII has been repurposed in anticipation of your arrival, and has the supplies and tools needed to repair the Hail Mary and prepare for your return to Earth (in particular, treating any injuries the two of you might have sustained, and gathering more data on what Engineer Rocky requires to survive on Earth’s surface).
In this message, we have included files on how to travel to the JOI VII, as well as instructions for how to make contact with the JOI VII crew.
We would again like to thank you for your endeavors, your bravery, and your sacrifice.
Welcome home, Dr. Grace. Welcome home, Engineer Rocky.
-Dr. Dimitri Komorov, PhD, Assistant Director of the International Cooperative Space and Aeronautics Agency.
P.S. Grace, you still owe me that drink. :]
Grace sat back in his chair, overwhelmed. He blankly stared up at the ceiling of the cockpit for a few moments, tears streaming down his face. “Oh my god,” he choked, furiously scrubbing at his eyes. “They- they’re happy. They’re happy. They’re excited to see us. Oh my god- I- I—”
“See?” Rocky said, gently, his voice free of any of its usual sarcasm. “I told you. They’re going to love us.”
Grace nodded, unable to speak. He turned back to the terminal, trying to read the message through a blur of tears and his smudged glasses.
He still owed Dimitri a drink. God, that tiny, inconsequential little unfulfilled promise had haunted him throughout his time at Tau Ceti, and even on the journey to Earth. He had hoped Dimitri and the other Petrova taskforce members had survived the hell Earth must have had to become in his absence, but he never for a second thought he would actually get to fulfill that promise. Despite rationally knowing that he was returning to Earth, the full consequences of such a thing never truly cemented in his mind.
Until now.
It seemed to hit Grace all at once: he was going to return to Earth. He would get to see the skies again. He would get to walk on a beach again. He would get to feel the wind in his hair again. He would get to see forests and flowers and people and cities and cars and trains and all of the horrible, wonderful things that comprised the world again.
“Dimitri’s alive,” Grace whispered, a broken little laugh escaping him. The two little words in no way encompassed everything he felt in that moment, but it was all he could articulate. “Dimitri’s alive! That must mean that other members of the Petrova taskforce are probably okay, too!”
Rocky trilled happily, doing yet another round of jazz hands. “Amaze amaze amaze! It will be nice to meet…some of them!” At this, he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a string of curse words, intermixed with “Stratt,” and “revenge.” “But this is happy happy happy news!!”
Grace elected to ignore Rocky’s murderous intentions. “…yeah. It really is. We did it, Rocky! And we’re going to get to go to Jupiter!!”
“Yes yes yes!!”
With a massive, teary grin on his face, Grace turned back to the comms terminal, his mind running a mile a minute. Despite their dire circumstances, humanity hadn’t given up. They had managed to keep it together well enough to continue to want to explore the stars. They had, from what he could tell, sent seven missions to Jupiter alone. Who knew what else they had explored in his absence? The possibilities were endless!
Maybe they sent a manned mission to Mars, Grace thought, his heart hammering in his chest. Maybe they sent a manned probe to orbit the sun at close range. Maybe they sent a manned mission to Venus! And that’s nothing on what they must have discovered on Earth. Maybe their medical technology is really, really advanced now. Maybe they figured out how to make Roman self-healing concrete again. Maybe they figured out how to make protein shakes that don’t taste bad. Who knows what they’ve figured out about physics- maybe they’ve figured out the theory of everything! It’s been twenty-seven years for them; they can probably do anything now!!
“Grace,” Rocky said, pulling Grace from his excited spiral. “Can I have the directions to the JOI VII station?”
“Hmmh—? Oh, yeah!” Grace said, eagerly. “Here, here—”
He opened the navigation files attached to the message, leaning back in his chair so Rocky could get a better view with his texture gun.
“Route and travel speeds seem viable from our position,” Rocky said, with a vaguely impressed note in his voice. “Should take a little under a week from where we are now, perhaps more if you want to take in the scenery or avoid intense acceleration. ICSAA seems to know what they are doing. Good good good.”
“Great!” Grace said, “We’ll go with their route, then.”
“Yes! Make sure contact the JOI VII crew to let them know we’ll be on our way, too. I’ll start inputting the course into Mary’s NavSystem.”
“Perfect, thanks Rocks!” Grace said, his hands flying across the computer keyboard as he drafted up a transmission for the JOI VII crew. He knew on some level he needed to be professional, but at the same time he couldn’t help wanting to share his enthusiasm for speaking with new people.
From: The Hail Mary Crew
Subject: Thank you!!!
JOI VII crew,
This is Dr. Captain Ryland Grace, speaking on behalf of the Hail Mary crew. I was instructed by ICSAA to inform you that the Hail Mary is en route to your station, and expected to arrive within a few days. I cannot thank you enough for sacrificing your research time and space on your station for us- let us know what we need to do to prepare for contact, or if there’s anything you need from us, and we’ll get it done as quickly as we can!
Thank you again,
-Dr. Grace!
P.S. Would you all mind giving us your names? I’d love to get to know you, especially if we’ll be stuck together for a while!! Thanks again!
Grace sat back in his chair and looked over the message a few times. It seemed professional enough; if the JOI VII crew needed more information or more details, they would obviously ask. He just hoped it would effectively convey that he was happy to speak with them and excited to meet them. After a few seconds, he clicked send, and smiled as the comms software blinked in conformation of a successful outsent signal.
“Alright,” he said, resolutely, trying to remain calm as he rose from his seat. “Let’s get to work!”