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There is a new star in the sky.
This waking cycle starts like any other, indistinguishable from any of the past 44 years Rocky has spent at Tau Ceti. He had carefully finished his days-long deep analysis of the status of his ship, memorising what he’d need to fix first, what could wait, and what still seemed to be in a good condition.
He walks past the room where his crew is… sleeping, trying to focus his hearing elsewhere.
Unless his planet sends another ship, he’s Erid’s last hope. He does not like thinking about everything that has gone wrong.
That continues to go wrong, he thinks wryly as he inspects the hull’s robot. It’s been gliding less smoothly lately, and, while it might be nothing, he can’t risk losing this as well.
As a last thing before eating, he checks his ship's petrovascope as he’s done daily all these years.
Like each time, he, against all hope, hopes to hear something. Something he’s not noticed before. Maybe even a change.
Something that would tell him why this star isn’t dying while his own is. While so many other stars are dying.
His hope flickers smaller each day, while his desperation only grows. You’d think that, after watching his crew not wake up, after spending 44 years completely alone, it couldn’t grow worse.
You’d be wrong.
Except, today, something has changed.
There is a new star in the sky.
He listens to the display screen for a long time.
Rocky has listened to the petrovascope many many many times. He’s mapped out the solar system’s planets, calculated their size and mass while always listening to a never changing background of stars.
He’d just examined the ship. An examination that included cleaning the petrovascope and checking the connections.
It can’t be a mistake.
There is actually a new star in the sky.
This new star is dim, barely noticeable, but it’s there.
Is it a star?
Could a new star just appear like that?
Rocky isn’t a scientist, he’s an engineer. But this is space. The scientists on the ship hadn’t known why the distance changed as they traveled. There was a lot they didn’t know about space.
There is even more Rocky doesn’t know about space.
Suddenly, he scuttles up, making for the other telescope they have, one that isn’t limited to the petrova frequency.
Nothing.
He double and double checks. This new star does not show up on any other frequency of light. Only on the petrova frequency.
Does that mean..?
For the first time in decades, the hope that was almost dimmed completely flares up, taking over his carapace.
There’s only one reasonable answer.
It’s a ship.
“Amaze amaze amaze amaze!” He’s back at the petrovascope’s display, carapace almost pressed against it as he looks at the new, dim dot.
Okay. Maybe that is just a bit of a leap. But Rocky has been alone for many many years, praying that his homeworld would send another ship once they didn’t hear anything back from his. All the information he’s gathered about Tau Ceti and its system was just for the smallest chance others would show up and could use it.
He made sure to memorise the exact locations of each star so he’d notice if a new dot showed up. He’d long imagined how it’d look.
Exactly like this.
Except, he belatedly realises:
It’s coming from the wrong direction.
The next few days, Rocky’s attention is on this dot. He brings anything that he intended to repair in front of the display, just so he can watch while he works.
It gets brighter.
Not by much, not fast, but it does get brighter.
The rate it increases suggests what he’s hoping for. It’s a ship.
It might be some space phenomenon he has no knowledge of, of course, but Rocky needs to have something to believe in. He needs to believe he can save Erid.
The direction is troublesome. Rocky’s ship experienced all kinds of anomalies while traveling to Tau Ceti, but they had still come from the right direction.
As the dot is in another direction, it implies it’s coming from somewhere else.
Another solar system.
Are those aliens?
Rocky has met aliens. Tiny tiny aliens that are eating the output of his star. Astrophage. Bad bad bad bad aliens. But these aliens would be intelligent aliens.
Rocky theorises.
Being alone, there is no thrum to sing his thoughts into. But still, he theorises.
And ultimately, decides that this must be the truth:
Astrophage infects stars. Rocky’s star is dying, just as all stars in the local cluster are.
Except Tau Ceti.
If one of those dying stars has a planet with life, they’d face the same crisis as Rocky’s people. And just like Rocky’s people, they might’ve observed that Tau Ceti isn’t dimming. Just like Rocky’s people, their salvation might lie in finding out why. So they send a ship.
And Rocky can help! Rocky has spent many many many years familiarising himself with this solar system. Rocky is one of the best engineers of his planet, if not the best, as proven by him being one of the 23 chosen.
And if Rocky helps them, they could help Rocky too.
Yes, this is a lot of conjecture. Yes, they might be heading this direction for many other reasons. Yes, it might not actually be a ship.
But if it’s a ship, they’re using astrophage as proven by its IR-frequency. That means they’re familiar with it, and why else come to Tau Ceti specifically?
When undergoing mental evaluation before the mission, the psychologist had stressed that hope is important. Without hope, you give up. And Rocky can’t afford to give up, so he hopes instead.
Hopes that he’s right. Hopes that that is a ship, that the aliens on it are friendly. Hopes that they either have a solution or are searching for a solution.
Hopes that they’ll be open to working with him.
For the next two years and four months, Rocky listens each day how his new star gets brighter. All while preparing.
He models a map of the local star cluster with xenonite, and then designs a new one so when realising it’s better to have Tau Ceti in the center than Eridani. He adds Threeworld to Eridani, connected by a petrovaline.
On the other side of the model he makes a bigger version of Eridani, Threeworld and a petrovaline.
I’m far from home. He means his message to say. We have a petrovaline. That’s why I’m here. Are you?
He makes preparations for a tunnel. He prepares his second message, even though he can’t finish it: His ship with a tunnel stretching out into nowhere. It won’t be reaching out to nowhere forever: He has to wait to add the other ship to the model, not knowing what it sounds like.
The most difficult part is the dividing wall. They’re aliens. What if they don’t hear the same range of sound as Rocky? What if it does overlap, but only partly?
He ponders different types of xenonite, and picks alloys carefully made for different frequencies of sound. His end result is a wall of hexagons, all sounding differently. Rocky can hear through most of them, and he desperately hopes it’s good enough.
Selecting the alloys shouldn’t have been his job, after all. But he’d rather not think about whose job it should’ve been. About his crewmate who didn’t wake up, no matter how much Rocky watched them sleep.
Not for the first time, he selfishly wishes Adrian is here. Not truly. Adrian is safe on Erid. That’s one of the few things Rocky can be glad about.
But Adrian is a biologist. They’d think of things Rocky surely is forgetting.
They’d be so excited about meeting aliens. Intelligent aliens.
He imagines what their reaction will be when Rocky returns home to tell them. If he returns home, he immediately admonishes himself. Rocky will return home. Rocky will save his star, and this new star, this ship and its aliens, will help him with that.
Two years and four months.
Rocky squeals when finally finally finally the ship enters the solar system, engines brighter than the system’s star. He lets himself bounce around in excitement when the ship’s engines turn off.
Just for a moment, and then it’s time to work.
Rocky turns on his own engines, making very sure they’re not pointed at the alien’s ship, and approaches.
He manoeuvres his ship to be in between the aliens and the petrovaline, matching their velocity exactly.
Space is a big and dark place. The aliens will need to spot Rocky, and he has the biggest chance of that happening if he places himself between their ship and whatever they’ll observe first. Which is likely to be Tau Ceti’s petrovaline.
Rocky is so excited excited excited!
Nothing happens. Not for a few minutes. Rocky divides his attention between the ship’s camera display and making a model of their ship to add to his message.
It’s so small. Only a third the length of Rocky’s ship. And it’s made out of cylinders, all round with no corners. Do they have such a high-pressure atmosphere that corners would be too big of a weak point? Or is their ship not made out of xenonite?
Something happened!
For one single second, their engines flared. Barely, at a very small percentage of the power he’s seen coming from them before, but they flared.
Does that mean they’ve seen Rocky’s ship? Are they checking if his is actually a ship?
Rocky makes sure to copy the flare with his own ship, for the exact same time and at the exact level of power.
They flare again: three short bursts, a long burst and one more short burst. Rocky copies it eagerly.
Then, he manoeuvres his ship so it’s in the optimal position to send his first message: the starmap and the petrovaline model.
His robot climbs across the hull to the point closest to the alien ship, where it releases the canister at 8.6 centimetres per second, the exact velocity the earlier flares made the shop move. This way Rocky knows the aliens are comfortable with this speed.
To his frustration, it’s not a perfect throw. It does correctly aim at the centre of the other’s ship, yes, and he did manage the right velocity, but it slowly rotates as it makes its way across space.
He can’t look bad in front of the aliens! What if they think he’s dumb? Or incapable?
He finishes the model for his second message as he listens intently to the display, waiting for something to happen.
A compartment opens!
Out of it comes what Rocky assumes is their hull robot. It’s a lot bigger than Rocky’s, four long stalks protruding from it’s centre in a bi-symmetrical way with a bulge on top. It’s a lot more advanced as well, its movements smooth as it seems to hook a rope on the rails that are likely for this exact location.
Wait.
Why would a robot use ropes?
Rocky’s carapace perks up as he listens intently.
The robot’s movements, while repetitive, differ too much to be mechanical. It’s organic.
Rocky isn’t listening to a robot, he’s listening to an alien!
…The alien left their ship? They can do that?
Don’t be stupid. It’s likely in some sort of suit. The rope is attached with hooks to the alien, and Rocky doubts they’d go into their skin. It must be some kind of clothes. Special space clothes.
Still, there is no sound in space. They would only perceive their ship through their claws. How will they be able to hear the canister? Let alone catch it?
Rocky is being stupid again. This is an intelligent alien species. Obviously, just like Rocky’s race, they must’ve discovered a camera or similar technology. Maybe they have a display in their suit that shows them their surroundings?
Why not use a robot? Much easier and safer.
These aliens might be crazy.
But that doesn’t matter! They’re catching his message! They’re open for communication! That means they’re friendly, right?
Rocky might finally be able to save Erid.
And, selfishly, he might finally not be alone anymore.
The alien catches the canister smoothly. They’re faster on the way back into the ship?
Why?
Are they scared? Excited?
Rocky can’t imagine not being careful when out in the void of space.
Minutes after the alien enters their ship again, it splits into two.
Immediately, Rocky chirps in distress. What happened? How? Is it Rocky’s fault? Does xenonite react badly with whatever atmosphere they’re in? Unlikely. Was it the traces of ammonia?
How can he help? Rocky had to watch his crew die, one by one, until he was the only one left. He can not let this alien die.
Somehow, through the fog of his panic, his mind notices something:
Both halves of the ship are moving mechanically.
Rocky stops his pacing.
Spools connect the two halves of their ship, extending until it is far longer than Rocky’s. And then it starts rotating.
No implosion or accident would look like that. Is it purposeful?
Did they just break their ship into two for… what reason?
Just in case, he matches the rotation with his own ship. Were they still checking if he’d copy?
He can’t split his own ship into two, if that’s what they want.
Well, he could. But then he’d die.
Rocky’s carapace sags relieved to the floor when the ship stops rotating and slowly pulls together again. It was an intended sequence. He did not accidentally kill the aliens.
He stops his own ship's rotation, his perceptors eagerly focused on the compartiment the alien came out of before. Airlock, he corrects himself. Not a compartment.
It opens! And there they are again, inside the airlock. They give the canister a shove, not bothering to go out, and a much faster pace than before. Roughly two meters per second this time.
It’s a lot smoother than Rocky’s throw. No rotations.
He brings the hull robot into position. The catch goes perfectly. See, Rocky can be smooth too!
He opens the canister enthusiastically the moment he gets his claws on it, only to be disappointed.
The alien sent his exact star map back. A liquid drop of some kind of metal drifts off into the air.
…Was that solid in the aliens’ atmosphere? Either they have a truly high pressure or it must be very very cold there.
Rocky spots a smidge of the liquid still stuck to one of the stars, and he raises his carapace immediately. Whatever the aliens tried to tell him might have melted, but he does now know where they came from! Sol!
Assuming the liquid didn’t move and got stuck on the wrong star. But Sol is roughly the direction the ship came from and the exact star isn’t that important right now anyway. They communicated back! If the communication continues Rocky can always ask later.
What is important is that they were willing to answer Rocky’s question.
They’re far from home too.
He makes a design of the aliens’ ship and molds it to the model of his own ship, connecting them with a tunnel that fits exactly over their ship’s door. This time, when he makes the robot throw the model in a new canister, he makes sure to aim at the alien’s door. Less trouble for them.
The alien catches it easily, but before going back into their ship, one of their limbs goes up and moves from side to side.
Oh? That’s a gesture! What does it mean? Thank you? A greeting? Something else entirely?
A while later the alien comes out again. Rocky listens with astonishment as it starts to chisel a hole into their ship. The piece floats away, and the alien jumps away from their ship to catch it.
Luckily, the rope doesn’t snap. It shouldn’t, right? Surely they made it just for situations like these?
Suddenly Rocky is a lot less worried about looking dumb in front of the aliens.
Then the alien throws the chunk at Rocky’s ships.
Oh!
They’re trying to help! They don’t know how Rocky is planning on attaching a tunnel, so they want him to know what material their ship is made of.
That means they agree!
Rocky chimes happily as the robot catches the chunk. He makes it copy the movement the alien did earlier.
The alien notices, and waves his arm back.
So is it a greeting?
Rocky makes the robot wave again. But the alien goes back inside. Logical, greetings don’t last forever.
But he’s learned something about them! A cultural thing!
This could actually work!
He’s very careful this time with bringing the piece of hull inside. He doesn’t want it to melt in Rocky’s environment, so he makes an insulated box for it first.
An alien piece of engineering! Rocky is so excited when he finally gets it in his claws.
It’s a chunk of metal with something soft attached under it. As much as he’d like to examine the soft tissue, the aliens are waiting for him. So he analyses only the metal instead.
Aluminium.
…The aliens are traveling in a ship made of aluminium? There goes his theory of a denser atmosphere. How did their ship not tear? Xenonite is much better.
Do they not know how to make xenonite? Or does their planet not have the needed ingredients?
These aliens truly are crazy.
At least his adhesive works with aluminium.
Finally, he’s ready to extend the tunnel. The process goes flawless, his calculations he’s made over and over perfect. Carefully, he manoeuvres his ship closer to the others. Then, stressfully, he extends his robots arms towards the others ship.
He can not make a mistake here. That ship is weak (aluminium!) and Rocky could easily poke a hole in its hull.
Rocky can’t kill the aliens.
Luckily, he does not. The flat plates in the robot’s arms cleanly attach to the hull.
He chitters as he can hear their hull groan as he pulls the entire ship closer.
Clunk.
He didn’t tear their ship! Amaze!
The next part is easy, as the robot works on adhering the tunnel to their ship, making sure there’s not a single weak spot.
He wants the aliens to be able to pressurise their part of the tunnel. That suit they were wearing earlier might stand in the way of communication.
He pressurises his own side with ammonia, and then, forcing himself to walk with dignity (they’re aliens! This is first contact! Rocky is representing his entire species!).
He forgets that immediately when he steps into the tunnel.
Finally, the alien ship isn’t just on display, Rocky can hear it himself!
Suddenly his small world of the ship he’s lived on for so many years is expanded by a whole other ship.
More importantly, he can hear the alien hovering in the tunnel!
It’s squashy.
And loud. A thump-thump-thump drums loudly from their carapace, pushing liquid (blood?) all through their body. Air moves through the lump into their carapace in intervals and their soft meat squawks as they move.
Ew.
He hopes they don’t notice the immediate disgust in Rocky’s posture.
It’s only momentarily, forgotten for his enthusiasm.
An alien! He’s not alone anymore! He waves one of his arms wildly at the alien.
They do not wave their limb back.
Was he wrong about it being a greeting?
The alien hovers closer, hesitating just before touching the divider wall.
Right. They like it cold, don’t they? Does the divider wall not insulate enough?
Rocky will have to fix that.
Still, Rocky can see no sign that the alien hears them. Maybe there is, but Rocky just can’t recognise it?
Maybe his wall he spent so much time on doesn’t let through the frequencies the alien can hear?
Rocky paces anxiously by bouncing around in the zero gravity.
There are beats of liquid forming on the alien. Ew. It’s leaking?
What kind of creature is this?
Is it normal for the creature to leak?
Rocky, not knowing what else to do, knocks on the wall three times.
The alien heard! There’s clear movement in their body in response to his knock, and they, quickly, knock back.
It truly is too hot for them, isn’t it?
So can they hear? They heard the knocks. But the knocks likely sounded through the entire wall. Maybe Rocky should just be patient and let the alien find a hexagon of xenonite it can hear through.
The alien is still for long moments, the lump on top of their carapace moving slightly.
Are they considering the wall?
Is moving that lump how they get a clearer sound of their surroundings? Kind of like Rocky knocking against objects for clarity.
Then the alien holds up one of their claws (they have five! And two of the limbs have different endings than the other two!).
To Rocky’s disappointment, they go back into their ship.
It’s only then that he realises: There is only one alien on that ship.
That thump-thump-thump is loud enough for Rocky to keep his focus on as the alien rumbles through their ship, gathering objects Rocky does not recognise.
There is no other source of that loud thump-thump-thump.
They’re alone? Just like Rocky? With no one to watch them sleep?
Sad sad sad.
But Rocky’s here now. They can be alone together.
After a bit of gathering, the alien comes back. He sticks some objects to the outside wall with some kind of adhesive on a flat piece, and then points another object at the divider wall.
Rocky can’t tell what it is. The alien points it at different hexagons, which could make you assume it’d tell them some kind of information. But Rocky can’t hear anything that’d show him that information. There is movement inside, yes, some kind of whirring, but Rocky can’t tell what it does.
Whatever it is, the alien turns around again.
Rocky dejectedly sags his carapace.
Only to perk up again as the alien stills, turns around and floats closer to one of the hexagons. They make a sound that comes from the lump on their carapace and proceeds to push said lump close to the hexagon.
They can hear?
They can hear!
Rocky didn’t fail with his chosen hexagons!
Rocky taps the hexagon to test.
He gets a reaction! The alien presses the lump against the hexagon, apparently now ignoring the heat.
Is that how they hear? From that lump?
After seconds, they pull away, the skin on the lump being less smooth than it was before they pressed it against the hexagon.
They hurt themselves.
Rocky really needs to fix that insulation.
Just as a final confirmation, he taps thrice on the hexagon. The alien taps back.
Then Rocky moves his arm away to allow another arm in front of the hexagon. In his claws he holds a tiny model he made earlier of the alien. In a third arm he holds another model of their ship.
The alien comes closer again.
Now that he knows he has their attention, Rocky pushes the mini-alien into the mini-ship.
The alien curls four of its claws while one sticks out, pointed up.
Another gesture! Does it mean they understood?
Rocky drops the model to repeat the gesture.
The alien seems a lot more excited this time as they go back to their ship. Maybe it’s another conjecture on Rocky’s part, but their movements seem quicker in the way they had when they went back to their door after catching the canister earlier. Rocky is excited. Why wouldn’t this alien be too?
That assumes they have emotions. Do they have emotions? Is that even possible?
Rocky depressurises the tunnel, the robot removing the divider wall for him as Rocky makes a new one, this time completely from the alien’s chosen material.
And with better insulation.
The alien left their objects behind, and Rocky really hopes they don’t mind Rocky taking them. He’s careful with them, of course, making the hull robot put them in another insulated box.
The alien objects can be looked at later. Right now, he doesn’t waste any time to make the hull robot place the new divider wall and repressurises the tunnel.
What he does do is check the sampler he left on their side of the tunnel. Rocky’s curious to see what their atmosphere consists of.
…Oxygen. They breathe oxygen. Easily ignitable oxygen. Rocky would burn the moment he’d set a step in their environment. How is their ship not on fire?
And the pressure! It’s so low! Rocky’s atmosphere is 145 times denser!
Wow. No wonder they’re so squishy. They don’t need to be as strong an exoskeleton as Rocky to avoid being crushed. They don’t need an exoskeleton at all.
He leaves a present on their side: models of atoms showing their atmosphere and Rocky’s.
As he waits for the alien to come back, he hopes it’s clear enough to understand.
Huh. The alien doesn’t seem to notice he’s back in the tunnel. Impatiently, Rocky knocks three times.
That gets their attention. They go back into their airlock and pressurise the tunnel from their side.
When the door opens, their movements still completely before he turns around, before turning immediately around again.
…Another gesture?
They get closer. Their movements are very different now, and Rocky feels like this time, he’s actually being heard.
As a final test, Rocky waves.
The alien waves back! Amaze amaze amaze!
Rocky waves again.
This time, instead of waving, the alien shakes the lump. Rocky, not having that kind of lump, shakes his entire carapace in an attempt of imitation.
…This game of imitation could go on for a while. Rocky wants to know if the alien will understand their present. He taps the wall thrice and then keeps a single claw extended, pointing.
They notice!
Interestingly, their lump (they clearly seems to prefer one side) turns towards the presents first before they make their way over.
That really is how they hear, is it? Can they only hear from one side? How does that work? How inefficient.
They make more sound that comes from his lump. Is that talking? It’s so… rough.
“Open it!” Rocky tells him.
Instead, the aliens says more. The sound seems to come from a hole in their lump.
“Yes yes yes.” Rocky is not sure why the alien is talking. They can’t understand each other! “Open the balls!” He points at the xenonite spheres again.
That seems to work. The alien says one last thing before floating over the them.
There’s one model of oxygen in the first one they open. And 145 small models of ammonia in the other.
Rocky waits as the alien inspects them. One of his hands taps his lump. Rocky taps his carapace in mimicry.
Then the alien shoots up, saying something in a higher note than earlier. He holds up the model towards Rocky.
“Molecules!” Rocky chimes back, hoping he guessed the alien’s meaning correctly.
The alien chatters to Rocky while he takes a while to (presumably) count the ammonia.
Finally, he holds up one claw, before leaving for his ship again.
Rocky now knows another gesture! This is actually working!
He listens to the thump-thump-thump as the alien makes their way through their ship. It’s already growing to comfort him. The loud sound is proof Rocky isn’t alone anymore. Still, he perks up as the alien returns to the tunnel.
While communicating could’ve gone better, the alien shows him a clock, and Rocky returns the favour by showing them a clock of his own.
The alien waves as he leaves (is the gesture for saying goodbye as well?) which Rocky eagerly returns.
They’d pointed at 60 degrees on their clock. That should roughly translate to two hours.
What could the alien want that time for?
Rocky lays down, folding his legs beneath him, as he listens to the alien making their way down their ship. They stop moving mid-air. Rocky might’ve been worried, if the loud thump-thump-thump didn’t continue with no hesitation.
That is a lie. Rocky does worry.
The alien then does move, curling up into themselves before stopping their movement again.
It takes Rocky a while to realise: They’re sleeping.
He tilts his carapace for a better listen. There is no other alien on his ship to protect their sleep.
It’s alright. He thinks. You sleep, I watch.