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Life is Reason.
Rocky’s words replayed in his head as he laid back on his cot. Ryland glanced over as he heard the Eridian trill from his xenonite enclosure, slowly folding his legs under his carapace and resting for the night. He smiled slightly, sitting up, offering his companion a bit of comfort as he watched him sleep. His hand reached into the pocket of his jumpsuit, pulling out the small knitted ball of Earth.
He smiled at it, memories of his students coming back to him. Their excited faces when he let them play with musical instruments to demonstrate the different patterns of sound waves. Their joyous laughter as they tossed the beanbag, the one in his hand, across the room, answering science trivia as quickly as they could. The panic in their eyes as he explained the findings from the ArcLight probe and what the Petrova Line really meant for life on earth, for their futures.
Ryland squeezed his eyes shut, hand closing tightly around the beanbag. His memories had been foggy, still. He didn’t remember everything about Stratt’s Vat. He didn’t remember how he’d ended up hurtling through space, twelve light-years away from home on a suicide mission. He didn’t remember why he made such a point to keep correcting Rocky’s backwards attempts at thumbs up. He didn’t remember why his dreams were being haunted by a mysterious stuntman in a Miami Vice Stunt Team jacket, and he didn’t know why he cared so much about that dang jacket.
But as Ryland Grace looked down at the little blue ball in his hand, he smiled. He and Rocky knew why Tau Ceti wasn’t dimming. He was going to find a way to stop the astrophage and save the planet, save his students. Their lives, he realized, gently tossing the beanbag into the air, are the reason I’m here.
He tucked his knees to his chest, staring up at the ceiling of the dormitory. Ryland closed his eyes, trying to summon some sort of memory to no avail, huffing dejectedly as he flopped back onto his pillow. Despite all his notes and his whiteboard listing basically everything he knew about himself, he hadn’t found a clear trigger for his memories. They seemed to come randomly, which he’d found out after staring at a mirror for three hours trying to remember the stuntman that had been haunting his mind with questions about who he was and why Ryland seemed to care about him.
He’d even started a separate whiteboard for all the things he knew so far. He was a stuntman (that much was obvious); he had a leather jacket that was black with red stripes and had the Miami Vice logo emblazoned on the back above the words “Stunt Team”; he had a girlfriend named Jody; he hated Mark (which, gave him points in Ryland’s book); and he, for some inexplicable reason, shared Ryland’s face.
A fact that made him nauseous sometimes.
Ryland would remember if he had a twin, right? The concept of forgetting someone he’d quite literally shared his whole life with seemed ridiculous, despite the fact that if Ryland from four years ago (or twelve, accounting for the time that’s passed on Earth) was told that aliens were real and he’d be working with one to save their respective worlds, he would have thought it was the funniest joke imaginable. Now it was normal…ish. As normal as trying to study alien microbes that eat the Sun in a different solar system twelve light-years away from Earth, alongside a sentient rock alien could be. Which would be ridiculous, to anyone who wasn’t Ryland Grace.
Rocky was up first, the occasional crash of his xenonite ball against the aluminum walls rattling through the ship. Part of him wondered if the vibrations could somehow be interpreted as something in Eridian, as the other half slowly gathered consciousness. He slowly sat up, stretching his arms over his head and rolling his neck out.
Ryland shuffled over to his duffel bag, absently running his hand over the raised stitching of his name as he dug for one of his shirts. He pulled one that was black, with the periodic table across the front captioned with the words “I wear this shirt, periodically.” Snorting, he remembered the groans from some of his students as he unveiled it for the first time during their module on chemistry. Despite its rocky start, it had been a hit with their class and the years after them.
He pressed his face into the fabric, trying and failing to inhale some lingering scent of Earth. They are the reason, he reminded himself solemnly as he pulled the shirt over his head and trudged to the lab, unfolding his glasses and pushing them up his nose as he plopped onto one of the stools, watching as Rocky rolled over to him.
“Grace sleep good, question?” He asked, one of his hands making a distinctive thumbs down.
Ryland patted the top of Rocky’s ball. “Yeah, Rock. I slept alright.”
“Good, good, good,” Rocky trilled. “Grace sleep so Grace not stupid, statement. Can work better on finding predator on Adrian.”
“Why did I ever tell you about the effects of sleep deprivation on humans?”
“Grace and Rocky save Earth, save Erid with science. Can only do science if Grace sleep so Grace not stupid.”
“I feel like we’re past the point of you being worried about my wellbeing, and more focused on just insulting me.”
“Grace leaky space blob. Very complicated. Rocky always worried,” he responded, and Grace let himself crack a small smile before the Eridian continued. “Rocky worried that Grace no sleep, Grace too stupid to save stars.”
Ryland sighed. “Thanks. Thanks for that, buddy.”
He wandered around in the lab, pacing in circles and drumming his fingers against his legs. “So,” he huffed. “We know that life on Adrian is acting like a predator. And that it’s eating the astrophage.” He turned to Rocky. “Anything else?”
Rocky lowered his carapece slightly in what Ryland interpreted as a shrug as he groaned. He turned around dramatically, scanning the room for something to keep his hands occupied while he worked the problem.
He wandered through the ship, Rocky rolling at his heels and occasionally slamming into the back of his legs, nearly knocking the human off balance. Ryland sat cross-legged on the floor, looking between his, Yao, and Ilyukhina’s bags, hesitating before rummaging through the last two. Finally, he dug out a small rubber ball, dribbling it a few times.
“Come on, Ry! Guard me!”
Ryland stumbled forward, tripping on a shoelace. He thankfully caught himself before he hit the ground, though his glasses were precariously close to falling off his face. Ryland pushed them back up, looking across the driveway at another sandy-haired boy, who couldn’t have been older than nine or ten, dribbling an old basketball they had found in the garage.
He looked down at himself. There were bandaids on his palms, and judging by how close he was to the ground, Ryland figured he must have been the same age. A normal, summer day, playing basketball outside. Not the usual memory that randomly interrupted his day, but a welcome one. All the ones from Stratt’s Vat were starting to get repetitive.
He looked over his shoulder at the old basketball hoop bolted above the garage and then back at his opponent. His knees were covered in bandaids of all sorts of colors. It gave him pause for a minute; some part of him was worried when it seemed normal. Kids this age were usually covered in bandaids, he himself was covered in bandaids. And Ryland was no stranger to seeing his own students coming into class with casts, braces, or even on crutches.
Something about it made him vaguely anxious though, sort of like how he felt with the stuntman. Ryland looked up at the other boy’s face and paused. It was his face.
This is insane, he thought, tossing the ball up and down as he walked. It’s like- oh my god. That’s the stuntman. The realization sat next to the general unease he’d been feeling since that first memory. A Hollywood stuntman with his face, who he was very concerned about, and now it came to his attention that he’d apparently known him since childhood.
“Who the fudging fudger is this guy?” he muttered as Rocky sang.
“Who Grace talking to, question?”
“Myself, Rock. It’s just-” he huffed- “not a big deal. Memory stuff.”
“Being amnesiac make Grace angry, question?”
“Not angry, per se,” he sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “More so, irritated. I feel like my brain is playing keep away with very important information.”
He’s on the ground before he realizes it. The laminate is cool against his hands as pain shoots through his arms. His backpack, at the very least, had cushioned his fall. Ryland looked up, seeing a group of boys gathered in a semi-circle around him, one of them holding on to a stack of books that he knows he’d just been carrying.
“Give them back!” He protested, sitting up. “I need those!”
“Really? Little nerd here needs his books? I thought you were so smart you didn’t need help,” one of them teased. “Maybe you’re not as smart as everyone thinks. Wouldn’t want anyone to find out about that, would we?”
He jumped to his feet, trying to reach out for the books as one of the boys held it above his head and out of his reach. His other hand was pushing against Ryland, keeping him away as he tried jumping for them. His eyes burned slightly as the laughing grew louder.
“Leave him alone!” Someone shouted, and Ryland heard a grunt as someone's fist connected with one of the bullies’ face. He looked up, feeling his books being shoved back into his chest. He made a noise, wrapping his arms around them tightly as whoever had gotten involved turned to face the others, arms spread protectively.
“Pick on someone your own size!” He threatened, taking a step forward.
The bully he’d punched rubbed his face, narrowing his eyes. “Well, shrimp. Shouldn’t you know better than to pick fights you can’t win?” He snapped.
“I only pick fights I can win,” Ryland’s savior retorted, crossing his arms. “Now, leave him alone, and you won’t have to tell your buddies that you got beat up by a kid.”
He flinched, the ball dropping and bouncing up into his face with a soft thud. Rocky squealed and squeaked in what Ryland interpreted as a laugh. He huffed again, bending down to retrieve the ball and starting to bounce it against the floor.
“If there is some kind of microbial predator on Adrian,” he began, wondering aloud, the rubbery thud of the ball echoing through the lab. “It’ll be in the clouds where astrophage breeds.” He tossed the ball against Rocky’s xenonite enclosure as if passing to a teammate. It bounced off, flying off into the distance as Ryland jumped for it, spiking the ball back towards the ground. “The problem is the ship-” he jogged back to the other side of the lab- “wasn’t built to go into the atmosphere.”
Rocky shifted his carapace as Ryland bent down, bouncing the ball against one of the xenonite panels. “If we get within five kilometers, we’ll be ripped into a million pieces, and then we’ll burn up.” He sighed, holding the ball. “Game over.”
“Game not over,” Rocky trilled, hands crafting something out of xenonite. “I make chain. I make long chain. I put collection device on end.”
He scoffed. “Yeah, yeah. Five kilometers of chain. Sure.” He bounced the ball a few more times. “Guard me!” Ryland shouted, another flash of that game on the driveway coming into his mind.
Rocky made a noise akin to a huff as he picked up the metallic object he’d been working on. “Like this chain, look.”
Ryland turned around, letting the ball drop to the floor as he opened his mouth. “You can do that?!”
“Yes.”
He smiled. “Kinda like fishing?”
Fishing seemed to be somewhat of a distressing concept for Rocky to understand. It seemed Erid wasn’t exactly known for their seafood, which made sense considering that their oceans were hot enough to breed astrophage when Earth had paved most of the Sahara Desert to do the same thing.
Crabbing, in particular, was very distressing to him.
As was Ryland’s subsequent realization that carcinisation was not a uniquely terrestrial concept. Even on a planet 16.3 light-years from Earth, with an ammonia-based atmosphere that was twenty-nine times the pressure of Earth’s, nature was still trying to make crabs. What is it with biology and nature and crabs, he groaned internally.
Explaining the concept of carcinisation to an organism that had never seen a crab went about as well as you’d expect.
“Rocky not crab! Rocky Eridian, statement!”
Ryland threaded his hands through his hair as he sat cross-legged in the Don’t Go Crazy room. “I know you’re not a crab-”
“How long since last sleep, question?”
“We’re not doing that again, Rocky,” he sighed. “I’m trying to explain that there’s some weird phenomenon in Earth biology. A lot of non-crustaceans evolve to have crab-like bodies, and the theory is that it provides a lot of selective advantages when it comes to protecting vital organs and allowing organisms to escape predators on the ocean floor.”
Rocky bristled. “Eridians do not live in water, statement.”
“Let me finish,” Ryland warned. “It was a concept introduced into the field of evolutionary biology by Lancelot Alexander Borradailie in 1916. It’s a real thing.”
He shook his carapace. “Grace lie.”
“I’m not lying, buddy. I taught my students about it during our biology unit. They called it ‘crabification’ because they couldn’t always remember the proper scientific word.” He explained. “And yeah, human brains rely on pattern recognition, so we look for patterns. According to my brain’s pattern and past data, you look similar to a crab.”
“Rocky not crab!”
“I’m just saying that you, and probably other Eridians, would look like crabs to humans.”
“Eridians not crabs. Grace stupid, statement.”
“It’s a thing, Rocky! I showed it to you on my laptop. I showed you the wikipedia page and everything!”
“Earth portable-thinking machine lie. Grace lie. Rocky not crab.”
Ryland buried his head in his hands, letting out a deep groan. “I know you’re not a crab, Rocky. I’m just saying that the Eridians might be a non-Earth example of carcinisation, which is a fascinating revelation.”
“Rocky not crab! Eridians not crab!”
“You call me a leaky space blob, why can’t I call you a space crab?”
“Because Grace leaky space blob. Rocky not crab. Simple. How long since last sleep, question?”
He threw up his hands with an exasperated noise. “I literally woke up three hours ago, Rocky.”
“Grace need more sleep, statement.”
“You’re not my mom,” Ryland sighed, patting the top of Rocky’s ball. “You don’t tell me what to do.”
“Grace should listen to Rocky. Rocky smart. Grace stupid.”
He rolled his eyes, “Do Eridians have sarcasm?”
“What word mean, question?”
“I’ll take that as a no.”
The planning of the fishing trip of potential doom, however, was a whole different hurdle.
Five kilometers of chain was a lot more than Ryland had previously imagined. It was three and twelve-hundreths of a mile, but considering most people ran or walked that far regularly for fun, for some reason, he’d decided that it wasn’t that long. Until, of course, he and Rocky now had to connect over two thousand five-centimeter-long chain links until his fingers went numb.
“So, we hook the predator collector onto the end of this,” Ryland said, thinking aloud. “I get us almost into orbit at the precise angle so we don’t-” he gestured to Rocky who dramatically flopped against the panels of his ball- “die,” they finished in unision. “And then I go out and grab it and we head out and-”
“Why Grace decide Grace retrieve predator collector, question? Why Grace not ask if Rocky want, question?”
His brow furrowed. “Rocky, bud. I have an EVA suit, which gives me legs and arms that are a bit more functional as compared to being in a ball. It makes sense. I’ll go out on the hull and get it,” he announced with a finality that, for his students, meant buckle down and get your work done quietly. For Rocky, however, that meaning went entirely over his head.
“No understand. Rocky make suit from xenonite. Rocky go out on hull. Rocky get predator collector so Grace focus on piloting ship. Make more sense, statement,” he protested.
Ryland flinched. He hadn’t been expecting any pushback. So far, Rocky had been perfectly content with simply designating tasks to him. Handing him panels of xenonite and telling him where to put them had been the foundation of their working relationship. “The EVA suit has an anchor for the tether to keep me from floating out into space-”
“I make.”
“I’m bigger. I can move faster across the hull. I’ll have an easier time carrying the sampler back.”
Rocky shook his carapece. “No, no, no. Rocky have more hands than Grace. Rocky move quicker than Grace. Will be faster. Ship not have to spend as much time in Adrian atmosphere, statement. Will be better. Is decided. Rocky go on hull.”
“It’s not decided!” He argued. “It is very much not decided. Rocky, I-” he sputtered, trying to find a suitable argument. “You’re nearly the same size as the predator collector. It would probably be-”
“Eridians lift rocks much heavier than own bodies. Predator collector no different. Rocky go on hull, Rocky get.”
Ryland waved his arms. “No! No, you’re not- you’re not going out there. I’m going. I’m getting the sampler. End of discussion.”
“But Grace need to pilot ship. How Grace pilot ship if Grace on hull. Make no sense. Plan is stupid. Grace stay. Grace pilot ship. Rocky go on hull. Rocky get predator collector.”
“I don’t need to actively pilot the ship once I get it where it needs to be,” he explained. “I can set it to stay like that, pop out onto the hull, get the sampler, and then everything will be fine.”
Rocky huffs, and Ryland swears that he’s seen this level of stubbornness in another human before, but whoever it was is locked inside a memory that has yet to resurface. He shook his head. “Rocky, this is just how it’s going to be. So stop-”
“Why Grace not want Rocky to go on hull, question?”
He swallowed, hesitating as he felt blood rush to his ears. He swears he’s had a debate similar to this before. “Because, because-” he exhaled- “because you are too important, Rock. You need to be safe so you can take what we learned back to Erid and save your star.”
“But Grace need to save Grace star. Grace important. Grace need to go home. Save Earth.”
Ryland turned away, blinking back the pressure behind his eyes. Part of him wanted to come clean, do his best to explain to Rocky that this was only a one-way trip for him. That he’d die alone out here, floating in the infinite void of space, twelve light-years away from everything he’d ever loved. “If something happens to you,” he breathed, shakily, “I can’t get our findings back to Erid. If something happens to me-” he clenched his fists- “you can still get our findings back to Earth.”
Rocky’s carapace tilted. “No understand.”
He stood up, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jumpsuit and facing away from the Eridian. “It’s not important right now. What’s important is-”
“Why Grace think going home not important, question? No understand, no understand.”
Ryland grimaced at the distress in Rocky’s trills. “You want to go home, right?” He asked. “Save Erid, see Adrian again?”
“Yes,” Rocky said. “Why Grace ask question when Grace already know answer, question?”
“Well, I want you to be able to go home too. And I can only make sure that you get to go home if I’m the one who goes out on the hull and gets the sampler. If you go out there, you could get hurt, and maybe you wouldn’t be able to-”
“Rocky want Grace to go home too.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a sharp exhale. “I’m not having this discussion Rocky. You stay inside your ball the whole time. I take care of everything, okay? Thumbs up?” He asked, flashing a thumbs up to the Eridian, who shifted his weight between his legs.
“Why Grace need to do everything, question? Why not let Rocky help, question?”
“Because-” he ran his hands through his hair- “because it’s just easier. You’re already making the chain; I don’t want you to have to do so many other things. Besides, I’ve done EVAs before, I know what I’m doing. And if I go, that gives you a higher chance of going home and getting back to your mate.”
“Rocky not more important than Grace!”
“For the love of God, just-” Ryland turned around, his breathing heavy. This argument felt so familiar: a stubborn, independent person trying to handle things themselves, not wanting or accepting his help even when it made so much more sense for Ryland to take care of it. He could almost see it, but there wasn’t a face or voice or name to put to the other half of the argument.
Rocky trilled, and he finally exploded.
“Just- just-” he groaned angrily, finally glaring at the Eridian. “Just let me do this for you, Colt!”
The silence afterwards was deafening. Rocky froze, Ryland froze; the only noise came from the sound of the soft buzzing of the Hail Mary’s electronic systems and oxygen recycler, and the sound of Ryland’s breathing.
He blinked. Colt? Do I know a Colt?
Rocky chittered questioningly. “Why Grace say different name, question? That not Rocky name, statement.”
Ryland barely heard him, his brain running at thousands of miles a minute, trying to dig through his missing memories to find whoever Colt was. I don’t- was it a student that I argued with? He wondered, nervously tapping his fingers against his arm. A friend, a-
“Doctor Ryland Grace!”
Ryland slowly climbed up the stairs, careful not to accidentally trip on the gown. It was heavier than the one for his master's, but maybe comparable to the one from his undergrad if he accounted for the various stoles and honor cords that had been piled on top of his shoulders. The hat, however, was probably the most awkward part. He felt like he was walking with a pile of books on his head just to keep it on.
He crossed the stage, shaking hands with his professors, his advisors, and finally the university president, who also handed him a small piece of paper. Ryland took it with a grin, facing out to look out at the crowd.
He scanned the rows, the sea of people, trying to find someone in particular.
Finally, he spotted two thumbs up at the ends of two arms clad in black and red leather. The Miami Vice Stunt Team jacket, he realized. The stuntman was at his graduation. But why?
Ryland beamed, his free hand forming into a thumbs-up as he heard them shout his name. He finally made eye contact with him, a sense of relief washing over him as he realized that Colt had probably- Wait a second. The stuntman, the stuntman is Colt? But then why-
“Oh my God,” Ryland whispered.
He stumbled backwards, collapsing onto the floor of the lab with a resounding thud as Rocky screeched, scrambling over to him. Ryland brought his knees to his chest, burying his face in his hands.
“Why Grace fall, question? Grace okay? Grace say Grace okay!”
“I’m- I’m okay, Rocky, I just-” he whispered, feeling a sense of guilt pool in his stomach as something else made the hairs on his arms stand on end. “I- I have a brother. Colt is my brother. How could I-” he felt a tear trickle down the side of his face- “How could I forget my twin brother?”
Rocky seemed to hesitate, but silently rolled his ball closer to Ryland, pressing the glass against his side. The heat from his body slowly permeating through the human’s body as Ryland choked on another sob. “What is word, question?” He asked softly, and probably in the most gentle tone their rudimentary translation program could convey.
“Twin?”
“Yes.”
Ryland nodded, rubbing at his eyes as the tears began to flow. “It’s uh- it’s a word we use on Earth to describe two offspring being born to the same mother in the same twenty-four-hour period,” he explained. “There’s two different types. Fraternal and identical. Fraternal,” he made a face as he tried to come up with an explanation, “fraternal twins happen when a human female’s reproductive system releases two eggs at once. They have different genetic codes, so fraternal twins normally look different. They can even be completely different sexes, like one can be male and the other can be female.”
Rocky seemed to nod. “Understand. Eridians have word when two eggs hatch from same mated pair. Is ♩♪🎵♩♪. Is Grace and Grace brother ♩♪🎵♩♪, question?”
He made a mental note to add ‘fraternal’ to their growing vocabulary. “No, bud. We’re not.” Ryland sighed, thinking back to how he’d been haunted by a face identical to his for days, completely unaware that it was the face of his twin. “We’re the other kind. Identical. Identical twins happen when an egg splits into two separate zygotes. Colt-” he choked back another sob as more tears streamed down his cheeks- “Colt and I have the same genetic code. Basically, we have the same face and look the same. Doesn’t mean we act the same, though. I was- I was a middle school teacher, Colt- Colt jumped off buildings for a living. Used to scare the crap out of me.”
The Eridian tilted his carapace to the side. “No understand.”
“The being an identical twin or the fact that my brother jumped off buildings?”
“Both.”
Ryland laughed slightly, smiling in spite of himself. “Yeah, bud. I get it. Identical twins are hard to explain to a species that doesn’t reproduce like humans,” he bit the inside of his cheek, trying to think of a suitable comparison with Eridians. “It’d be like if after your eggs and Adrian’s eggs fused, they split up again, but both had the same genetic data from both of you. Like it cloned itself basically.”
Rocky sat with this information. “Understand. Never happen on Erid. Is impossible. Have no word.” He paused. “Grace and Grace brother special. Same human but different. Fascinating.”
He wiped at his eyes as the tears finally began to dry up, leaving his eyes red and cheeks stained. “Yeah, we- we couldn’t be more different. Colt was- Colt was a stuntman. So in movies, when people do dangerous stuff, some of the actors don’t want to actually do them, so they have other people, like my brother, do them instead.”
“But why Grace brother want to do, question? Is still dangerous, statement.”
Ryland shrugged. “You know what? I don’t think Colt could even answer that.” He smiled, an image of his brother lifting a thumbs up from a crashpad flashing across the back of his eyelids. “He just- he loved it. It was his thing. Even when we were kids, he was always doing dangerous stuff. He’d get in fights at school trying to protect me and other kids that were getting picked on. He was- he was always good at protecting people.”
“Grace miss Grace brother?”
“Yeah, Rock. I-” he sniffled. “I miss him a lot.”
Rocky had retreated into one of his xenonite tunnels that would give the camera the best view of him while Ryland scribbled out equations at the edge of the frame. “Hello Earth!” Rocky announced, waving one of his legs (arms? Ryland still wasn’t sure) at the screen. “Plan is like fishing. We get very close to Adrian atmosphere and lower collector into clouds with chain. Then Grace go on hull to reel it in.”
Ryland glanced up, flashing two thumbs-up at the camera with a tight lipped, utterly exhausted smile. Part of him hoped that some of these video logs would be broadcast internationally. Something as part of a “hey guys so aliens are real and also check out this dork and aforementioned alien who apparently saved our entire planet” PBS documentary or something. Maybe Colt would stumble upon it, and be proud of his baby brother who just so happened to save the world.
Rocky paid him no mind, continuing his explanation to the camera like the extroverted member of a group project who had been designated as the presenter. “If ship not at precise angle and speed, we die! Example!” Ryland looked up just in time to watch the Eridian flop against one of the panels, bringing up a hand to stifle his laughter.
He huffed, discarding the notebook to somewhere he’d grab it from later and looked back up at Rocky. “We must fly backwards to keep proper velocity, even though Grace still have no pilot experience-”
Ryland threw up his hands. “But I’ve been practicing, haven’t I?” He protested.
Rocky turned to look at him in a way that, if Eridians did have eyes, would’ve been a dirty look, and then turned back to the camera. “Rocky has built predator collector. Rocky chain spooled and ready. Grace pilot training-” he crossed his arms (legs?)- “not as good. What think, Earth?”
When there wasn’t any response, he tried again, tapping on the glass. “Hello?”
“They can’t hear you, pal,” Ryland sighed.
“What?”
He looked up from the lab table. “We’re not actually talking to Earth. Earth’s too far away.” Ryland waved a hand at the camera. “We just record these messages and tell them what we’ve learned, and then when we’re done, we’ll send them back in a probe.”
“Why not you tell them yourself when you return home, question?”
Ryland felt his throat run dry as his chest tightened. “Yeah, this uh- this is a one way ticket for me pal,” he announced, trying to inject an edge of humor to make his impending demise slightly less horrific.
Rocky squealed. “What?”
“We had enough astrophage to get here, but uh, not enough to get back,” Ryland explained.
“So then, what happens to Grace, question?”
“I got enough food to last me at least a couple years,” he said, handwaving it away to not make the Eridian worry. “Maybe a couple more if I stretch it out.”
Rocky scuttled to the side. “So Grace die, question?”
He tried to push the image of his twin brother out of his mind. “Yeah, once we’re done, I’m-” he swallowed hard- “I’m gonna die.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Rocky asked, but Ryland swore he heard another voice speaking in unison with him. Another voice that was twelve light-years away from Tau Ceti.
“It- it slipped my mind,” he lied.
Rocky stamped against his enclosure. “No! Grace say Grace go home.”
“Listen-”
“Grace go home! Grace see Grace brother again!”
Ryland squeezed his eyes shut, looking away. “Listen, I- I got to meet you. I got to do all this amazing stuff. I’m- I’m good.” He thought of Colt, who probably despised him for choosing to go on this mission. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d spoken, what his last words had been. Maybe the memory would come back, but Ryland could pretend he was okay. “I’ve made peace with it.”
Rocky took a few nervous steps forward. “What mean? What mean make peace?”
“It means-” he ducked his head, trying to push back more memories of his brother that were flooding his mind- “it means that I know I’m not going home. I know why. And it’s-” his voice broke- “and it’s okay.” He flashed a thumbs up, blinking back the pressure behind his eyes at the familiar gesture. “Thumbs up?”
Rocky shook his carapace. “No.”
“Tiny thumbs up?”
“No.”
He sighed. “Look, I- we’ve got stars to save, okay?”
Rocky trilled in a way that Ryland could only describe as mournfully. He skittered away from the edge of his enclosure but titled his carapace up. “Grace?”
“Yeah?”
“You are,” he sang something that Ryland hadn’t yet heard, “need word.”
Ryland blinked. “What word do you need?”
“To risk self, to help another.”
“Uh, dumb,” he said, with a snap of his fingers.
“Jesus Colt,” their mom said, dabbing a cotton ball under his twin brother’s eye. He winced slightly as she held him in place by the jawline. “What did I say about getting in fights?”
“But-” he protested.
“Why can’t you be more like your brother?” Their father asked, pacing nervously behind them. Ryland rubbed his arm as his father gestured towards him. “Gets perfect grades. Never gets in trouble. And most importantly, doesn’t do dumb things like get in fights for no good reason-”
“They were beating up a fifth grader!” Colt finally shouted. “Those jerks were three years older than him, and they were picking on him because he was an easy target. They did the same thing to Ryland at the beginning of the year.”
“And then they stopped.”
“Because I made them!”
“No, you choose to make a stupid-
“He was protecting me!” Ryland interrupted. “Those kids were- they were beating me up for years and they only stopped because Colt fought them and he always won. So once they stopped picking on me they went after other kids and Colt’s just trying to-”
“You can solve conflicts with other methods than your fists,” their mom chided, pressing an ice pack to Colt’s bruised cheek. “I know I raised my boys better than this.”
“And,” their father began and Colt tried to fight the scowl settling on his face. “I understand that you might not be worried about it yet, but these dumb-”
“He’s not being dumb!” Ryland yelled, quickly drawing his family’s attention. Even Colt had raised a questioning eyebrow. “I tried to get the teachers to do something for months but nobody cared. They all just told me to ignore and then they’d stop but they never stopped. Nobody did anything until Colt came in to protect me! He was brave enough to stand up to them for me and for all the other kids that they’ve been picking on.” He inhaled, looking at his twin brother. “Colt’s not dumb. He’s the bravest person I know.”
“Grace,” Rocky warned as he stood up, walking across the room. The keys clacking as he typed in the word that he’d always assigned to his brother first. Brave.
He kept walking, standing in one of the hallways, resting his hand on the bulkhead above him. He heard the thumbing of Rocky swinging through his xenonite tunnel, coming to rest behind him. “How much astrophage you need, question?”
Ryland scoffed. “Two million killograms.”
“I can give.”
He blinked, slowly turning around, his breath hitching as he felt his heart swell with a newfound hope.
“I go home six years slower,” Rocky continued.
“That’s too much.”
“Rocky watch crew die. Could not fix. Grace say Grace will die. Rocky fix.”
“Can we make one quick stop?” He asked, leaning forward between the passenger seat, where Carl was sitting, and the drivers seat.
Carl glanced back at him. “Stratt was-”
“Look with all due respect, if Stratt’s going to send me off to God knows where for God knows how long, I need to make one stop first. It’s important.”
The driver looked at Carl, who seemed to mull it over in his head before pulling out a post-it note and a pen. “Write it down,” he said, handing them back to Ryland, who took them eagerly. He scribbled out an address quickly, his handwriting just barely neat enough to be legible, and handed it back to Carl. He looked down. “What’s in LA?”
“You’ll see. It’s,” Ryland glanced out the window with a smile. “It’s really important.”
He took a few steps towards Rocky, tears already beginning to gather at the corners of his eyes. For the first time since he woke up on the Hail Mary, he let himself imagine a future on Earth, where he got to see the people he loved once again.
Colt eyed the unmarked vehicles suspiciously, but his demeanor changed once the door opened. “Ryland?” He breathed as his twin brother ran over to him, wrapping him into a tight hug. “What the hell?”
Ryland smiled, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck as Colt released him. “Remember how I told you I was kinda sorta working on that government thing with astrophage and that I couldn’t tell you that much?”
His twin brother cocked his head to the side, letting out a soft hum as Carl stepped out of the car, seemingly baffled at the fact that he was now seeing two of them. “So…am I like, getting recruited or?”
“No, God no. I just- Stratt wants me flown out to God knows where for God knows how long so I- I wanted to stop by real quick.”
“Awww, my baby brother wants to see me before he saves the Sun,” Colt teased, ruffling his brother’s hair. “I appreciate the sentiment but I do have a few questions on how you organize your priorities.”
Ryland rolled his eyes. “I just wanted to tell you what was going on. Let you know that it could be a while before I see you again. Say goodbye properly, I guess.”
Colt grinned. “So, Doctor Ryland Grace, you gonna forget about me while you’re off saving the Sun and all of humanity?”
He stifled a sob, resting his hands on his hips. “Okay.” Ryland stepped forward, sitting down as he brought his hands up to cover his mouth, tears streaming freely down his face as the reality of the situation set in. He could go home.
Rocky took a few steps forward. “I thought you made peace, question?”
Ryland laughed, rubbing at his eyes. “I didn’t mean any of that,” he sniffled. “That’s just something you say. Thank you.”
“Are you kidding me? You’re my twin brother. I could never forget you, Colt.”
“Fine then, Ry,” he said, placing his hands on Ryland’s shoulders, shaking him lightly. “Go save the world, little bro. I’ll be here when you get back.”
“C’mere,” he murmured, reaching out and wrapping his arms around Rocky’s ball, watching as his tears began to trickle down the panels like raindrops on a window. Rocky flinched away.
“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. What happening?”
Ryland smiled. “A hug,” he explained as Rocky made an affirmative noise, nervously clicking his claws together. “It’s usually not something one does by themselves.”
“Oh,” Rocky hummed. “Wait, I do same?”
“Would you just get in here?”
Rocky groaned, thudding against the panel that Ryland had been pressing his face against. He felt the relief come over him in waves. They were going to find the predator on Adrian. They were going to save their stars. He was going to go home.
He was going to see his brother again.