Chapter Text
The day I was prepositioned to join Project Hail Mary, it was raining outside. I have a strong distaste for the rain and all the inconveniences it brings with it. The smell of petrichor wasn’t my favorite, and neither was the constant background droning of water droplets hitting the bushes just outside of my cracked office window. In my humble opinion, there is nothing good about the rain. Sure, it kicks off the water cycle, which is objectively a good thing, but outside of the plant growth and refilling of water basins, it was annoying.
Even a ten percent chance of rain is enough to bring water down from the heavens, and with that small percentage, who was going to consider bringing an umbrella with them? I often forgot my umbrella, even on days when rain was sure to happen. I tried to keep one in my car for a minute there, but I ended up giving it to a student walking to their dorm room while it was pissing it down. That’s another thing. It leaves you soaked and cold down to the bone, no matter how hot and humid it might be outside, and with the temperature regulation the university had, it might as well be asking you to freeze to death.
Maybe that was an exaggeration, but still. The point stands that I am not a huge fan of the rain. Which might seem counterintuitive since I live in the New England region and have a cat named Stormy, but I go about most days ignoring those facts. I only live in New England because it is my alma mater, and my cat’s name is only Stormy because she was already one when I adopted her, and the name had already permanently stuck. The explanations make me feel slightly better, but the irony is still not lost on me.
A soft breeze brought in the smell of rain I disliked so much, and it tried, succeeded really, in overpowering my sage and citrus candle. The flame was dancing back and forth, causing me to focus solely on it and forget about the Word document I was actually meant to be working on. Sure, my next Anatomy 101 course was going to suffer from my lack of careful planning, but that felt like a future me problem to put on some YouTube video on about bones. Right now, I wanted to space out and stare at the flame, trying not to let exhaustion take me.
I had been extremely busy lately. Arguably, too busy to get proper rest of any kind, and it was only a matter of time before I slipped up and made a mistake. Between labs, lessons, and helping out at the clinic, I had stretched myself too thin and left no time to think. I knew I would need a break soon, but so did everyone else. Besides, if I took a break, who would write my lesson plans or supervise the laboratory? The clinic I could probably worm my way out of, but that felt unfair to all the nurse practitioners there since they were already understaffed. I couldn’t bring myself ot leave them out to dry like that.
The door to my office opens abruptly, snapping me out of my trance. I moved my gaze to the now open doorway, making eye contact with a woman with shoulder-length reddish-brown hair and bright blue eyes. There was also a man behind her with blonde hair half kept under a navy beanie, and dark blue eyes. They hadn’t knocked, which was slightly annoying, but I didn’t have the time to dissect their lack of politeness. The woman spoke up before I could ask anything.
“Dr. Alistair Hope?” She made my name a question, but I know she saw the shiny metal placards on both the outside of the door and perched at the edge of my desk. They both had my name engraved on them, so I know that she is aware of who I am; she is just playing coy. Little did she know, I was already irritated, and two can participate in the game of playing dumb.
“The study guides for any exams always go up on my Canvas a week before the test date. If you have any questions about test dates, please check your syllabus. Any other questions can be directed to the TA for your specific class,” I respond, folding my hands politely on the desk in front of me. I hoped that my tone would indicate how displeased I was with their entrance, but the woman seemed undeterred. The man, however, was bouncing back and forth between his feet in obvious nervousness. I know neither of them is a student or faculty member at the university, but it was fun to talk to them like they were.
“We are not here to ask about your classes, Dr. Hope.”
I hadn’t realized it when she said just my name, but she seemed to have a distinctly European accent. I was having a hard time trying to place it, but my guesses were somewhere in Germany. Maybe the Netherlands or Austria? I’m not the best with accents.
“Then please feel free to enlighten me as to why you decided to enter my office the way you did.”
“I apologize for the way we entered, but we came to discuss a matter of the utmost importance with you. Did you write the paper entitled, ‘Comas and Memory: How the Mind Copes with Trauma,’ Dr. Hope?”
I feel myself sitting up a little straighter at the question. She already knew I wrote that paper; she seemed to have it in her hands. Yeah, it was a paper I wrote, and it was expanded on by doctors in Thailand. They were attempting to use my research on comas and memory to put cancer patients into comas to try to ignore the physical and emotional effects of chemotherapy and other cancer treatments on the body. Dr. Lamai had called about it several times, but last I knew, they had discovered two years ago that there was a gene that could be isolated and linked to survival rates, but only a few people had that trait. I’m pretty sure the company went under because they couldn’t find enough customers. That was the last I had heard about it.
“I did,” I responded shortly, “What exactly do you need?”
“You, Dr. Hope. We need you.”
I let out a laugh, but there was no humor behind it. I felt like she had just stated the obvious. Nobody in their right mind would barge into the office of an expert in their field unprompted with their paper and not need them. She hadn’t even bothered to give her name yet, which was equally annoying.
“Yeah, obviously,” The irritation was beginning to leak into my voice despite my attempts to try and hold it back, “What about me, though? Is there some sort of clarification on the paper I can give you for whatever research you are working on?”
The man behind her looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here, and honestly, I wanted that for him too. I wanted them out of my office, and the steady background of rain was not helping my mood. I wanted to at least get their names or get them to stop beating around the bush and just beat the fucking bush already.
“Dr. Hope, surely you have heard about the Petrova Line and the fact that the sun is dimming,” She said while walking swiftly to my desk and closing my laptop in one fluid motion. On top of the not-closed lid, she placed a large manila file with the words ‘Project Hail Mary’ and ‘Top-Secret’ printed on the front. “My name is Eva Stratt, and this is Dr. Ryland Grace. I hereby grant you clearance to everything pertaining to Project Hail Mary, Dr. Alistair Hope.”
Oh. Oh, this felt like it was going to be bad. I didn’t want clearance for anything. I just wanted to teach and do my clinics. What was I getting dragged into?
Despite my protests, Eva Stratt continued to talk over me.
“The Project Hail Mary task force was created to stop the sun from dimming. While researching which stars were dimming, we found a star in the Tau Ceti system that was not dimming despite being well inside the cluster of infected stars. We need to find out why.
“In order to do that, we need to put the astronauts heading to Tau Ceti into long-term induced comas for the four-year-long trip. For that, we need you.”
“Me? Why not contact the lab in Thailand that adapted my research for that very purpose?” I asked while reluctantly picking up the file and flipping through quickly. A lot of the file seems like it won’t pertain to me, with the amount of diagrams and rocket schematics that I couldn’t be bothered to care about. “Dr. Lamai wrote a fantastic paper on the specific gene related to comas. She was able to isolate the gene that was responsible for safety in long-term comas, though I disagree with her use of animal testing to achieve-”
“I assure you, they have also been contacted. You will be working closely with Dr. Lamai to develop the technology to automatically take care of the astronauts. Welcome to Project Hail Mary, Dr. Hope,” Statt cut me off with such finality that I felt like it was signing my death warrant.
“Listen, I know you’re saying a lot of things with ‘will’ and ‘are,’ but I am not interested, Ms. Stratt. I have patients and students that rely on me, and I must remain here,” I responded. I tried to keep the fear and apprehension from bubbling up into my tone, but I don’t think I succeeded. There was way too much information being dumped on me way too fast, and if I was being honest with myself, I just didn’t want to participate in this kind of project.
“I am afraid you do not have a choice in the matter. Please meet us at the airport in two hours, or I will have to use force by sending the National Guard to pick you up. It is your choice. Good day, Dr. Hope.”
Eva Stratt then turned on her heel and left quickly before I could process what she had just told me. She walked in with a purpose and walked out with just as much purpose. I had no way to retaliate against any of it. I dropped the file back down on my desk, sinking into my chair with a feeling of humiliation and defeat I have never experienced before. I tilt my head back towards the ceiling, and the background noise of the rain feels almost like it has grown to a deafening roar in only a few moments.
“The National Guard, huh?”
There was a wetness to my voice that I couldn’t hide, but I tried to drag my hands down my face to wipe away the salty tears gathering in the corner of my eyes. I was too exhausted for this.
“Yeah,” responded a voice. I startled, looking back towards the man’s voice to see that the nervous wreck I now knew by the name Dr. Ryland Grace was still there. He looked at me with a mixture of pity and understanding, yet another thing I don’t like about today.
“Is there anything else I can help you with, Dr. Grace?” I asked, trying to dry my voice back out.
Dr. Grace opens and closes his mouth like a fish for a minute there. I think he was trying to find the words to say, but seemed to be struggling to say them. There seem to be a lot of things about the pair that entered my office and the way that they behave that have set me on edge. When he finally finds his voice, it isn’t anything I want to hear.
“For what it’s worth, Stratt is always like that…”
“She always threatens unsuspecting citizens with unwarranted military force if they don’t do what she wants?”
“Yeah… This is kinda my fault. I told her that getting you onto the project would be beneficial after I read your paper. She kinda listens to what I say sometimes, so I’m genuinely sorry about that,” He said, scratching the back of his neck. I felt like he was being honest, but there was more that he knew about what was potentially my fate. I wasn’t going to pry. I already had the government on my back, potentially all of them, so I didn’t need to make the second in command of the whole operation upset at me.
“I know you are trying to comfort me, Dr. Grace, but this really isn’t as comforting as you might think. Not when hundreds of patients might die just to send three astronauts on a suicide mission.”
—
After Dr. Grace left my office, a man entered and introduced himself as Carl. He ushered me to a black car with dark window tints, barely giving me the time to put my papers and laptop into my briefcase.
It took roughly an hour and fifteen minutes after that for me to speed pack everything I needed into a small suitcase, a briefcase, and a backpack, and make it to the airport. I already missed Stormy and hated that I couldn’t bring her with me. I tried to ask Carl if he knew anything about how she would be taken care of while I was gone, but he told me to ask Stratt once I made it to the airport, and everything would be handled. I desperately hoped that meant someone would be responsible for the full-time position of taking care of my equivalent of a child.
Lucky for me, it was a quick trip from the front doors of the airport to the tarmac that held the private jet. It turns out that you get through TSA pretty quickly when you’re surrounded by National Guard soldiers and agents. I wouldn’t exactly recommend the expedited service, though, because the stares you get from everyone and their mother were brutal in nature. So much so, parents were averting their children’s eyes and treating me like a criminal deserving of death row or something like that. I mean, it was the military, so I guess I couldn’t really blame them for thinking I was probably a terrorist being escorted. I think they just hoped it wasn’t their planes I was boarding.
They didn’t have to worry about that. After all, I had a private jet to catch. Waiting for me on the damp tarmac (of course, it was still raining, how fun!) were Stratt and Dr. Grace. They were flanked on either side by soldiers holding up umbrellas to protect them from the rain while they discussed something on Stratt’s tablet. She continued to tap away at the screen, occasionally tilting it towards Grace to get his input on whatever she was working on. Maybe to get his approval? Who knows. All I knew is he looked like a well-trained puppy waiting for its master to give it something to do.
If I didn’t have the military breathing down my neck every single time I so much as took a step, I might have laughed. It was kinda funny how absurd this entire situation was. Not only that, but it put into focus the fact that Ryland Grace really was the second in command of the whole operation. He probably had the power of the whole world behind him, and he hadn’t even realized it was going on. I briefly wondered if Stratt and Grace had anything going on between them, but I quickly squashed the thought. It didn’t seem like they were going in that direction, but I guess nobody knows for certain other than the pair in front of me.
I cleared my throat once I made it to them, causing both of them to look up from the tablet towards me. Grace granted me a soft smile, pulling the umbrella from the soldier next to him and putting it over both our heads. It was a bit too late for that as I, and my things, were already pretty wet, but I decided not to mention it and to humor him.
“Dr. Hope! I see you made it,” He said kindly. I gave a brief nod as a response.
While Grace seemed genuinely happy to see me, Stratt was a tougher nut to crack. Her expression was nearly unreadable. It was so unchanging that it reminded me of ancient Egyptian artifacts that have withstood the test of time and look nearly identical to when they were first created. That seemed right about on track with what I knew about her so far. Unyielding in getting her way, and she had the entirety of the world’s power right behind her.
“Welcome, Dr. Hope,” she said. Nothing about her voice gave away anything about her either. What a frustrating woman.
“Yeah,” I responded quickly, “Look, Carl told me to ask you if there is someone to take care of Stormy.”
Now that did get a reaction out of her. A sick form of satisfaction curled in the pit of my stomach to see her on the back foot in this conversation. A little concerning that it seemed she didn’t know I had a cat, despite apparently knowing so much about me. If she knew where I lived, surely she could have asked the nice older lady who was my landlord, Mrs. Greenworth, if I had any pets in the apartment.
“My cat?” I continued when she took too long to respond to my question, “I can’t just leave her alone for God knows how long you intend to hold me hostage with the military force of every government.”
Stratt nodded stiffly, taking out her phone and sending a text before making a brief phone call to expedite the process she had just texted about. She then acknowledged me again.
“I will have someone taking care of your cat in your absence, Dr. Hope.”
I gave her a few unsure nods, but it did seem like she would have Stormy taken care of. I tried not to bounce back and forth between my feet since I didn’t want to stray too far front he umbrella Dr. Grace was holding over us.
“So… Is anyone going to tell me where exactly we are going now?”
Stratt seemed to ponder the question for a moment, typing a couple of things on her tablet before deciding she wasn’t going to give me a straight answer. That seemed to be the trend here.
“Onto the private jet. Get comfortable, it will be a long flight, Dr. Hope.”
With that, she went up the stairs, leaving me, Carl, Grace, and a couple of soldiers standing there. I let out a long sigh and felt Grace trying to take my suitcase from me. I attempted to let him down gently, tightening my grip slightly. I was a grown man; I didn’t need another grown man holding my bags for me when he was already holding an umbrella over my head.
I give another unsure nod. Frustration was bubbling up inside of me again, but it felt pretty dumb to be pissed off right now. Yeah, sure, this was definitely the worst day I have ever had, and the rain only made it ten times worse, but holding onto that resentment was useless when we were going to be in a steel cone moving 550 miles per hour over 40,000 feet in the air.
I walked up the stairs behind Stratt, Grace, and Carl, trailing behind me. After putting my stuff up, keeping my tablet out to read on, I plopped onto the couch against one of the walls, propping my head up on my hand and looking out the window. I was attempting to ignore the pointed looks from the scientist across from me. It seemed like he wanted to say something all the time, but didn’t have the courage to broach the subject.
I feel like Ryland Grace was probably a cool guy, but it was hard to tell when he was either scared of me or scared of Stratt. It was hard to tell which. I’m sure Dr. Grace and I would get along remarkably well if Stratt weren’t around to suck the life and fun out of everything, but alas. She was here, and Grace was awkward to say the least. I got the vibe that he ended up on the project similarly to how I did, just earlier on.
Luckily for me, Stratt began distracting him with talk about centrifuge schematics that a Dr. Lokken had sent updated blueprints for. Grace only seemed half interested in the conversation, but it was enough to get his attention away from me and leave me to myself.
I let out another deep sigh and decided to try to find a book on my tablet to read for a portion of the flight. Bringing my bookshelves with me didn’t seem like the best option, so I brought the device with hundreds of books on it instead. I wanted to find something I haven’t read before to try to focus on and ignore my current circumstances. I managed to find a lengthy fiction novel that I had started before, which I could jump into the middle of with little to no trouble. Escapism is bliss, or however that saying goes.
About fifteen minutes into reading, I could feel eyes boring into my skin again. I put down the tablet despite how much I was enjoying the monologue about the inevitability of life despite the vastness of space, and looked over to see that Stratt was no longer keeping Dr. Grace occupied. How annoying. I considered rolling over and going to sleep, but he finally decided to say something to me.
“How old is your cat?”
So that was the question that he decided was the perfect ice breaker? Insane work when I already miss Stormy as much as I do. It had been a while since I had stayed anywhere but the lab or at home.
“Stormy is three,” I said. I wanted it to come out harder, but I can’t help the softness creeping at the edges of my voice. “I miss her already.”
Grace nodded. Fidgeting with his hands in his lap. I think he might just need something to be doing with himself for the rest of the flight, and his sights were set on a potential conversation. I didn’t even know where to begin, though, since I was exhausted, still slightly damp, and trying to ignore everything going on around me.
“Do you have someone waiting for you outside of here?” I asked.
His eyes widened a bit like he wasn’t anticipating curiosity directed at him. Grace nodded, his glasses slipping down his nose.
“Yeah. I have a twin brother named Colt. He is a stunt man,” He responded enthusiastically. Grace having a twin brother came as a bit of a surprise, but he did give off a bit of sibling energy.
“Really? A stuntman?”
“Yeah, he does the stunts for Tom Ryder.”
If I had a cup, I probably would have dropped it.
“Like as in the Tom Ryder?” I asked incredulously.
“Yeah, the Tom Ryder,” Ryland Grace responded, like it wasn’t that important a tidbit.”I have met him before, and he is kind of a butthead.”
“Butthead?” Why wouldn’t he just say asshole?
“I teach middle schoolers,” he responded matter-of-factly, “I don’t cuss around them.”
“What is a middle school teacher doing with a PhD and on a top-secret government-sanctioned project?”
“Oh, uh… I am the leading expert on Astrophage. I got drafted day one by Stratt to find out what Astrophage was and how they work. I ended up discovering how they reproduce, and I have been a part of the project ever since.”
The leading expert on Astrophage is a middle school teacher. Who would have guessed that one? Wait. Was he the same Dr. Grace who called someone a ‘staggering waste of carbon’ at a conference in Denmark? I read that paper and thought it was a pretty interesting concept to claim that life doesn’t need water. Did I think it was right? Probably not, but it was interesting.
“Nice,” I responded, not really knowing what to say to that. I don’t think bringing up conference stuff was probably the most appropriate thing in the world. It looked like the conversation might be over, and if it wasn’t, I was still making it be over by turning around and lying down. It was time for me to get some much-needed shut-eye.
I drifted off to Stratt, asking Grace more questions about various elements of the project. None of those things were particularly interesting to me, but their voices became a lullaby until we made it to our destination.