Chapter Text
My hands are shaking.
They have been for weeks.
I’ve tried everything I can think of to fix them. Sponge baths, frequent rests, a poor attempt at meditation, bigger meals, even just a good, old fashioned cry. But nothing works.
Ever since the Taumeoba escaped, they just won’t stop.
Because all I can think about is you.
I knew something felt wrong when we said goodbye. I didn’t know what it was—I couldn’t have known what it was—but I knew, I knew leaving you was a mistake.
Maybe that sounds completely insane. It feels completely insane. We were always destined to go our separate ways, always supposed to say goodbye. That’s just how things had to be, we both knew that. But every fiber of my being told me it was wrong. That I was wrong to leave you.
Now I know why.
It’s made sleeping really, really hard, buddy. This Taumoeba thing is always hanging over me, trailing right behind my thoughts of you. But even without it, even if everything was okay, I don’t think I’d be sleeping much better. It just feels wrong not having you here. Like I’m not aboard the same ship as I was when we shared it. What was once the Hail Mary—Our Mary—has become something different. Something lesser.
I feel lesser.
Every morning I stumble out of bed, still tired, drained from the few hours of “sleep” my body manages to eke out. I wake up looking toward your makeshift workshop, just a few feet ahead of me. There are no tools there now. It’s empty. Void of the person that made it special.
I’m still happy you left it here. That you entertained my request to keep as much xenonite aboard as possible. I told you it would be of interest to Earth scientists, and while that is certainly true, that was just an excuse. The truth is much more selfish than that. The truth is I just wanted to keep as much of you as I could.
And I’m grateful you were so adamant about me keeping the little Blip-A model you made. Even if it was to keep my stupid human brain from forgetting what it looked like. Or was that just an excuse? Something you said to make me keep it. To remember you.
I use it to mark how many days until I make it back to the Blip-A. I think you’d find that a good use for it. I’m set to arrive later today, actually. I thought I’d be excited but… my hands keep shaking.
I feel—I feel so scared, buddy. But that’s no different from any other day. I’m always scared without you here. My mind’s been turning over the same questions for what feels like forever.
Are you this scared too?
Am I too late?
Are you even alive?
I haven’t seen your engines emit even a flicker of IR light in days.
I tell myself that you’re just conserving the energy stored in your xenonite-free Astrophage batteries. I know that the Taumoeba couldn’t have gotten to them; they’re self contained, like my beetles.
I tell myself that you’re using them sparingly. Probably to only maintain the essentials, like your atmosphere. So you can stick it to death until the very end.
But I’m scared. I’m scared you’ll do—or already have done—what I would.
You have no fuel, no power, no one to help you, no one to comfort you or hold you or tell you it’s gonna be okay. Only the cold sting of failure. Of knowing everyone on your world will die, and you are floating, helpless, unable to do anything.
I don’t know how anyone could last in that state. I couldn’t.
Please, buddy… please don’t do what I would.
I wipe away the tears that have spilled onto my cheeks, as I’ve done dozens of times over the last few weeks, and lift myself off my cot. I’m not in my flight suit right now. I need to be.
“Computer, is the laundry finished?” I ask.
“Yes, Dr. Grace. Would you care for your flight suit?”
“Yes,” I mumble, coldly. I don’t even recognize my own voice with how hollow I sound. “Sorry, Mary. I—I’d love my flight suit. Thank you.”
I’m not sure why I felt the need to say that. I know it’s a machine. I know it doesn’t care how I talk to it. I could scream and yell and swear as much as I want and it wouldn’t make a difference. I just… I needed to.
Suddenly, two of the NannyBot’s mechanical arms swing forth with my flight suit. I think this is the same one I had on when you and I first learned to communicate. There’s a little patch on the shoulder; an old tear long since sewn shut.
I still remember that first day. The first time I brought my computer into the xenonite tunnel. The hours and hours we spent learning to talk. It was one of the longest stretches of time I’ve ever been awake. I was awake so long, in fact, that I’d started to get dizzy from exhaustion. That’s how I got that little tear. Stood up too fast and BAM! right into the wall.
You talked about that a few times after. I think you found it funny. I know you didn’t at the time— because we could barely understand each other and you’d just witnessed me potentially injure myself—but I think you found it funny in retrospect.
I pull the front zipper up to my neck and press the excess fabric down with my hands. Being in my flight suit feels… feels right. It’s been a long time since I was properly dressed.
I shuffle over to the ladder and quickly climb my way up to the lab, then to the “Bio-dome” as it is labeled on the Hail Mary. Don’t get me started on how wrong that name is because it is literally—literally—just a room full of screens. There is no “bio” in that dome. It should not be labeled bio-dome. It is insulting. I’ve told you about this plenty of times. Even though I know you love that room. I do too.
Eventually, I make it to the control room and haul myself into the pilot’s chair. I look to my right, my eyes lingering on the xenonite enclosure. It’s exactly where you’d be if you were here.
I swallow and force myself to look away. I’m getting close now. Only about thirty kilometers left to go, I think. Lifting my trembling hand to the main screen, I press the middle-left button which pulls up the radar view. You’re not in range yet, but you will be soon.
I’ve already got the ship on an automated deceleration course as I approach your position. We’ve actually been decelerating for quite a while now. I’ll need to pilot it manually pretty—
“Blip-A detected,” I hear.
Instinctively, my hands grab the stick. Am I already within the 20 kilometer range? I must be. Mary wouldn’t have told me if I wasn’t. I look at the screen and—yes, I am definitely within 20 kilometers. In fact, I’m already at 19.5 now. I need to slow this puppy down. Way down!
Pulling back on the stick, I hear the Hail Mary release a high-pitched whir as the spin drives pick up. My eyes are glued to the current velocity read-out.
Okay, I think that should be enough. I really don’t want to screw up this approach. One bad thrust, one wrong movement, and I could vaporize your ship.
No, no, I can’t think about that. I can’t think about killing you. I need to focus. My hand shakes as it grips the stick. I might need another just to hold it steady.
I spend a few hours like that, slowly approaching the Blip-A. My shoulder is drenched with how much sweat I’ve had to wipe off my face. I know you’d be telling me to “be calm” if you were here. You’d be saying it for your sake just as much as mine with how crappy my pilot skills are.
Ugh… I shouldn’t say that.
I’ve practiced so much for this. My skills are not crappy. They’ll be enough. I need them to be enough. To get you back aboard and safe.
“Warning, Blip-A has crossed perimeter threshold,” she says. “Recommend evasive maneuvers.”
I glance toward the screen. I’m within 200 meters now. I feel nauseous.
Squeezing the flight stick, I attempt to quiet my—everything. I can do this. I have to do this.
My approach is slow and steady, just as it has been. I’ve got my side-thrusters pointed firmly above and below your ship so that any thrust generated will be far, far away from you.
“125 meters.”
“100 meters.”
“75 meters.”
Okay, let’s slow it down again. I very, very gently tap the thruster pointing at an angle above your ship.
“50 meters.”
“40 meters.”
That’s good. Just a little bit more...
“Velocity matched. Distance to Blip-A is 25 meters.”
Slowly removing my hand from the sweat-soaked flight stick, I calmly push myself far back into the pilot’s chair. My heart is pounding like a jackhammer right now. I need to find some way to calm down.
I pull my legs close to my chest, close my eyes, and wrap my arms around them. If I had a mirror right now, I’m certain I would see myself in a ghostly shade of white. I think all this stress has pulled what little color I had right out of me.
I can’t stay like this for long though. I need to go get you now. Whatever condition you may be in.
I’ve had enough time to think about what I’m going to do if you’re—if you’re not still with me. It’s a very similar plan to the one where you are still alive, actually. I still bring the Taumoeba to Erid, but I won’t be awake for the whole journey. I’ll enter a series of controlled two-week-long comas, waking only to ensure the safety and health of the breeder tanks.
If I forget some things while I’m under then so be it. I’m going to record a couple of videos giving me the rundown of what’s happened, what I need to do, and why I should go back to sleep.
I’ll make it very, very clear that I must remain alive and capable of docking the ship with your space elevator. I will tell me that it’s the most important thing I’ll ever do. That will make me understand.
Another thing that’s been very hard for me to think about is that, either way, the result is still the same. I’ll starve and die. The only difference is that, if you’re still alive, I’ll have someone to starve for. And knowing that it’ll be for you… I feel like that will make it meaningful to me. At least I think it will. I’m not sure how I’ll feel when I’m actually starving. I know it would be worse without you though, if that makes sense.
I’m in the airlock now, slipping into my EVA suit. I’m trying to treat this as just another normal excursion, trying to repeat the same steps that I have in the past. I think I’m doing it right. I hear the helmet seal click.
Okay, I am pretty sure now that I did it right. I take a moment to collect some coils of rope and loop them around my shoulder. It’s a whole 25 meters to your ship and I need as much as I can carry. I peek out the airlock window and look toward the xenonite tunnel that we shared so long ago. I’m not surprised you kept it. I would have too.
I can almost hear us learning our first numbers together.
<1> <2> <0>
Our first words.
<true> <false> <Grace> <Rocky>
Okay, come on Ryland, get it together, man. Don’t act like it’s all behind us now. You can’t be sure that it is.
I grab the biggest wrench I can find. It’s going to take all my strength to make a noise loud enough to reverberate through your ship, but by god am I going to do it. I’m gonna get into that tunnel and hit that xenonite glass so hard the Astrophage on Sol will hear me.
I take a deep breath and begin the decompression process. You wouldn’t be able to see it through the padding on the EVA suits gloves, but I’m still shaking. Well, maybe you would. I keep forgetting you can hear through stuff. God, Rocky… please. Please still be alive.
Clearing my throat, I take a series of long slow breaths as decompression finishes. I swing the airlock open and take a good, long look at the distance between you and me. It’s 25 meters. A whole 25 meters. Of nothing.
And I might be doing all of this for nothing. You might not even be alive over there. I might be spending all this time and effort and—and what little hope I have left—just to find you floating motionless in the dark. Or maybe I won’t find you at all! Maybe—
I claw at my suit’s red breastplate. My heart feels like it’s going to explode! I need to calm down! I need to calm down, right now! I just—I need to breathe. I need to breathe.
I exhale and count to four, then inhale and count to four. I do this multiple times. I’ve heard of this somewhere before, but I’m not sure that it’s helping. At least it keeps my focus on the numbers. On my breath.
Okay, okay it is working. I can feel my heart slowing down. I’ve just gotta keep going.
I breathe in and out again, and again, and again until I’m calm enough to at least keep control of myself.
I force myself look at the gap again, and while I feel like I’m close to losing it, something is keeping me from doing so.
That’s… good?
I need to use that. Whatever nerve I’ve just gained needs to be leveraged immediately, before it leaves. I place my hand on the airlock hatch and lean myself out of it. I look toward the xenonite tunnel, trying to ignore the fact that it feels hundreds of miles away.
You’re just over there. Just out ahead of me. Closer than you have been in weeks. And if you are still alive, you need my help. You need me. Right now. Right now!
I leap from my ship, leaving a long yellow line of rope trailing behind me. Suddenly, I’m engulfed in darkness. Even more so than before. I can’t see any stars around me. Am I seriously already in the tunnel? Oh god how fast did I jump from the airlock?! What the hell was I think—
OUGH!
Okay! Okay! I’m definitely in the tunnel! I’m spinning now. I need to—
HNGG!!
YES!
I lodged my wrench right into a notch in the wall! I pull myself toward it and take hold of a few little protrusions in the xenonite.
Solid matter! I love you so much!
I take a few short, choppy breaths as my heart slows down. If I wanted to, I could spend a few minutes here, adjusting, getting comfortable up against this wall, but I won’t. I don’t want to wait for anything anymore.
With my free hand, I push myself deeper into the tunnel and I’m quickly met with the foggy xenonite glass we said our first hello and only goodbye at.
Please, buddy I said it once. Don’t make me ever have to say it again.
I push myself to the left side of the xenonite tunnel and grab hold of a small crystalline knob with my free hand. I do this to ensure I won’t send myself flying back as I swing at the glass. I want to be able to hit this thing repeatedly. As hard and as loud as I can. I don’t want to waste time traveling back to it again and again.
I lift the wrench high over my shoulder and slam it against the glass.
DOUNG!
Okay, all right, I’m still at the glass. Looks like one hand (and a leg pressed firmly close by) is enough to keep me here. I release my wrench for a moment as I adjust the radio on my helmet, setting it to the frequency we always use when I’m on an EVA. Then I tighten my grip on it once more.
Time to get loud.
DOUNG! DOUNG! DOUNG!
“Rocky!” I shout, my voice sounding far more timid than I expected. I guess I don’t usually yell like this. I need to do better.
DOUNG! DOUNG!
“ROCKY!” I scream, much louder this time, pressing my helmet to the glass. “ROCKY, IT’S GRACE! I’M HERE! SAME FREQUENCY AS ALWAYS!”
Answer me! Answer me, Rocky! It’s Grace! I’m here! I’m here, buddy!
DOUNG! DOUNG! DOUNG! DOUNG!
“ROCKY! I’M HERE, BUDDY!”
DOUNG! DOUNG! DOUNG!
Come on, answer me! Answer!
“ROCKY!”
DOUNG! DOUNG!
Answer me!
“ROCKY IT’S GRACE!”
DOUNG!
Answer!
“ANSWER ME!” I cry out, tears pooling around my eyes. “ROCKY!”
DOUNG! DOUNG! DOUNG! DOUNG! DOUNG!
“Rocky,” I sob, feeling my shoulders start to slump as my grip on the wrench weakens, “please...“
Please, you—you can’t be gone.
Please.
I—I can’t. I can’t!
DOUNG! DOUNG! DOUNG!
“ROCKY! ROOOCKY! ROOOOOCKY!”
I bring the wrench back above my head, ready to slam it again, but it slips through my fingers, like everything does. I briefly reach for it but… there’s no point.
It’s over.
I let myself go limp, and I too, float away from the barrier.
...
He’s gone.
...
He died.
Alone and afraid.
...
I was too late.
I’m always too late.
Always the wrong person.
…
I’m so sorry they sent me, Rocky. I wish they’d sent you someone smarter, someone who was proactive, who could have seen this coming. If they had, then that person would have been here days ago and they would have saved you. You’d be on your way to Erid, to Adrian.
Why couldn’t she have sent someone better? Why did Stratt have to send me?
The back of my EVA suit bumps against the right side of the xenonite tunnel.
She said she believed in me, but how can she believe in someone that doesn’t believe in themselves? Who isn’t willing to make the ultimate sacrifice? Who’s selfish and cowardly and stupid? Why me? Why not anyone else?
Reaching a hand back, I push off the wall. Soon I’m back at the barrier.
I guess none of it matters anymore. The fact is… they sent you the wrong person, and it cost both of us everything.
I bring my helmet to the glass and look into the darkness of your ship. The abyss within has now swallowed all 23 of its original crew.
I can never make this right, Rocky.
I can never fill the hole you leave behind on Erid.
The hole you leave in Adrian.
In me.
But whatever time I have left, whatever little strength my body can muster, it will all be spent getting the Taumoeba to Erid. I promise. Everything I have will be for that cause and that cause alone.
For you.
“I’m so sorry,” I whimper. “I wish it was me.”
I press my temple to the glass and splay my fingers as well. I’ll leave soon. Go back to my ship and begin the journey to Erid. I’ll sleep the flight away, minimizing my calorie requirements and expenditure. The Hail Mary will keep my body alive long enough to make it there. To give them the lifesaving Taumoeba so they can fix their star.
I don’t care what happens to me after that.
My hands press harder on the xenonite. They’re still shaking. My whole body is shaking. A little more than usual. It’s probably nothing. Oh god, I hope it’s nothing. If my body were to just—just shut down on me now I’d be dooming a whole planet. I can’t let that happen!
Using one hand, I turn my body away from the xenonite. When I lift it, I suddenly feel the shaking lessen. Turning back, I place it against the glass and it starts up again. What is—are these vibrations? Am I feeling vibrations through the glass?
I open my eyes and I feel the vibrations get stronger. I press my head back to the glass. I swear I can hear something.
“Rocky?” I squeak, barely able to form his name.
Tears quickly reform around the corners of my eyes. The vibrations are getting stronger. Is this real? Have I lost it?!
“Rocky?!” I cry. I can see something scuttling around in the dark. “ROCKY!”
“GRACE!!!” He screams, bouncing from wall to wall as he desperately makes his way to the barrier. “YOU ARE HERE?! GRACE?!”
Spreading his five legs out wide, he slams his entire carapace into the barrier before taking hold of a few nearby handholds. His radio floats behind him, clinking against the barrier just after he does.
“Oh god, thank you! Thank you!” I sob, trying to place my hands where Rocky’s are. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”
“Grace, you—you are here?! You come back for me?!” His voice is so high-pitched I can barely understand him.
“Of course! Of course, buddy! I—I wouldn’t leave you. I couldn’t.”
“Warning! The Taumoeba—”
“I know Rock, I know! That’s why I’m back. We both had the same problem. The Taumoeba broke through the xenonite. I caught it in time.”
“You know I was in trouble?! You come to help, question?” His voice is wild with emotion, swinging from low to high often and rapidly.
“Yes, I came to take you back to Erid! Take you home! We gotta set up the tunnel!”
“Grace save me? Save Erid?”
“Yes, Rocky. Save you. Save Erid.”
I take in a deep breath and release a quivering sigh while pressing my head to Rocky’s carapace. For the first time in weeks, I actually feel like—myself. Rocky’s alive. He’s alive. He’s here with me. He’s safe. I can get him home.
“Thank you Grace! Thank you not enough! Never will be enough! Thank you Grace!”
I smile, taking in every beautiful, harmonious note that leaves him. There is nothing he needs to thank me for. Just knowing that he is alive, that I made it in time, that he’s still here with me, that’s all I could ever ask for. Him existing is enough.
“It’s okay, buddy,” I coo. “I’m just happy you’re okay. Can you set up the tunnel?”
“N-yes. Yes, Grace. You—you must go back to Mary,” he says, staying as close to me as he can. “Will sterilize Blip-A with nitrogen wash before come over. Kill all Taumoeba. Keep you safe.”
I furrow my brow and blink away the moisture coating my eyes. I have no idea how I didn’t notice this, but Rocky’s covered in—in sludge. Astrophage sludge. Three of his five arms look injured. I can see a little silvery residue clinging to some hairline cracks near his joints. It’s blood.
But even with his injuries, he’s still thinking about me. About how he can get aboard the Hail Mary without dooming it to the same fate as the Blip-A. He’s so selfless. I wish I was more like him. I can’t wait until he’s back aboard, scuttling around in his enclosure. Working on one of the many devices that always follow him.
I gently lift my head from the barrier. I can’t keep floating around here, doing nothing. Not while he’s so hurt. He must need to sleep so badly. I can’t waste a second more indulging in this. I start turning away but then I feel a something tap my palm.
Shifting back toward the glass, it’s obvious to me now that it was Rocky’s hand, two actually. He spreads his fingers out wide and presses them against the glass. He doesn’t want me to go either.
“I’ll see you soon, buddy. Be safe,” I say.
“Yes, see you soon. Will sterilize. Will be safe. Will keep you safe.” He taps a spare leg against the glass. “Go, Grace.”
Tugging on my long yellow line of rope, I gradually hoist my body away from the barrier. My eyes never leave Rocky. Even as I exit the mouth of the tunnel, I’m still looking at that glass. Still looking at him. Breathing in the absolute elation I feel knowing that he’s alive.
I make it back to my airlock. Well, I bump into it actually. I think I really got lost there for a moment. Most of what’s happening right now feels pretty surreal. Like I’m dreaming. Oh boy… that’s not a thought I want to entertain.
Yeah, no, I’m not going to feed into that. This is reality. I’m living in reality right now. Re-entering my atmosphere. On my ship. Where my best friend will shortly join me. Then we will begin the trajectory calculations for our journey to Erid.
I hear the hiss of oxygen rush into the airlock, and it’s only a moment or two before I slip off my helmet. I am completely soaked right now. From head to toe. Why the heck did I choose this flight suit? Why couldn’t I have picked a less important one, dang it! Disgust!
Peeking out my airlock window, I see the fabricators on the tunnel move toward my ship. They’re working to extend the xenonite, and they’re working fast. I was right. Rocky was saving his energy. He never gave up hope.
Suddenly, a huff escapes me. What an idiot I am. Rocky would never even consider what I was thinking about. It’s just not his nature. He’s way too smart for that. Gosh, me and my stupid human brain, always thinking the worst.
I guess I can’t judge myself too hard. I mean, for me this whole thing was a suicide mission. It still is a suicide mission. I’ll still die. But at least I get to be happy about it! I actually chose it this time around. I made one selfless decision in my life and this—I tap the glass, pointing toward the xenonite tunnel—this is my reward.
Four years of life with someone who actually cares about me. Who doesn’t hate when I start babbling on about the most interesting properties of cellular life. I know it’s all elementary to him, but he listens! I mean, come on, is a semi-permeable cell membrane not the fricking coolest thing to have?! I love my semi-permeable cell membranes! I use them all the time! Especially to expel water and drench my favorite flight suit!
Oh wow, I haven’t been excited about science in a while. What a relief it still can excite me.
I tune back in to the xenonite tunnel. It’s wrapped around the airlock now. I’m not sure how long it’s been finished. Oh my gosh—I need to get ready!
Eagerly pushing off the airlock, I make my way back to the control room. I’ve been an absolute slob in Rocky’s absence, just leaving stuff all over the place, but this time it is actually to my benefit! Hovering beneath the pilot’s chair, I reach below the rails it travels on. There’s a nylon net down there which is where I keep… The Clump.
To the unfamiliar, The Clump appears to be a scary, bundled up mess of extension cables, HDMI’s, LED lights, laptop chargers, and hm… what is that? A micro-USB?
Anyway, while The Clump is scary, it’s also essential for me. It is the one central place that provides access to any cable I might need. And while it is not time efficient to take from said clump, the convenience and certainty it provides is more than enough to justify its existence.
But why do I need The Clump now? Well, Rocky’s going to be bringing a lot of luggage over and I’d like to be able to see some of it before bringing it aboard. For the sake of categorization and proper storage, of course.
I am definitely not grabbing all this stuff so that I can spend as much time in that tunnel with Rocky as possible. So that I can wrap my arms around his ball, as soon, and for as long as he’ll let me. No, that’s ridiculous. What I’m doing is necessary for any proper boarding procedure. Anyone would do this.
Yes. Anyone would.
I move toward my airlock. I’m certain Rocky is done pressurizing my side by now, so I waste no time in opening the door. The Hail Mary is quick to beep at me, warning me that I’m about to get sucked out into space. I override the warnings and continue twisting the airlock’s circular handle.
As expected, I am, indeed, not sucked out into the vacuum of space.
Peeking my head around the door, I look out into the darkness of the xenonite tunnel. There used to be so much mystery in here. In this sea of black. So many questions, so much uncertainty, so much fear. But not anymore. I know the light that hides within it. The friend.
Turning back to The Clump, I retrieve one long power cable and a large strip of square LED’s. I plug the power cable in and drag the excess out into the dark tunnel with me. Now that I’ve got power all I need is…
Voila!
Suddenly a warm yellow light fills my vision. I narrow my eyes and blink a few times as they adjust. Then I see it. My singular strip of LEDs has sent light flying through the tunnel. Its warmth refracts off the hundreds of uneven xenonite edges, which leaves everything shiny and glistening.
It’s different from how Tau Ceti’s light lit up the tunnel. When Rocky’s ship and mine spun in tandem. When we were first learning to talk.
It’s not as vibrant or as beautiful. These LED lights just can’t reproduce the same colors that Tau Ceti’s light could as it pushed through the xenonite. But it is warm. So much warmer than any place on the Hail Mary has felt in so long.
I look toward the glass and see Rocky approaching, pushing his ball out in front of him with his two front claws. I’ve suddenly forgot everything I was doing. I drop whatever’s in my hands and rush over to the barrier.
“Hey, buddy! You good? You feeling okay?”
Entering his airlock, he quickly steps into his ball and starts the process to flush his atmosphere. He’s bouncing up and down, excitedly. Where are his magnets? We don’t have any gravity right now… how is he gonna move around?
“Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Rocky clean. Remove all Taumoeba. No hurt Grace or ship. Rocky clean!” He assures me, repeatedly. “Need help. Not have magnet. Used for—for attempt at repair. Help, Grace.”
“Of course, buddy. What can I do? What do you need me to do? You need me to get something?”
“No! Stay!” He shouts, slamming his leg on the ground. It actually kind of scares me. “Not go to ship! Not go anywhere!“
A couple of very high-pitched nervous-sounding notes leave him. I don’t know how to feel about that. I can’t tell if it’s excitement or—or maybe pain? He wasn’t like this earlier. He actually seemed pretty calm, given the circumstances.
“Need hug...” I hear. At least I think that’s what he said. “Need hug. Need hug! NEED HUG!”
All right, that’s definitely what he’s saying! God, he’s freaking me out right now!
“It’s okay, buddy! It’s okay! I’m right here. We just need a minute for things to cool, okay? I’ll hug you as soon as I can. Oh! Look, look—” I hold my hand up to the glass and he slams his claw against the edge of his ball. It’s loud, and it even manages to push the ball against the airlock’s glass. What was I showing him? Oh, oh right. “Look, buddy. I’ve got my EVA suit on. These gloves can handle a lot of heat.”
The airlock finished filling with my atmosphere about a minute ago, maybe a tad bit more. I’m going to push my luck. We have replacement EVA suits if needed. I pull open the airlock door and gently press my hands against the sides of Rocky’s ball.
He’s manic, absolutely manic. I’ve never seen him like this—I had no idea he could even get like this. He’s pressing two hands to mine while trembling. Shaking like he can barely keep himself together. I can’t even make sense of what he’s saying right now.
I pull the ball to my chest and his carapace is immediately there too. He’s still shaking, way worse than I ever have. He must have been terrified in there. I would have been too. I would have been more than terrified.
I really want to press my head against the glass, but I’m sure it would burn the heck out of me. I need to wait a few minutes at a minimum before doing that.
Rocky pushes his hand through the flexible xenonite corner of his ball. He’s still making a lot of noise, a lot of high pitched trills and clicks, but I don’t think they’re words. I don’t know what they are.
I adjust my grip and free up one of my hands. He reaches for it before I can even bring it to his claw. As soon as it touches him, he laces his three fingers through mine. If I had to explain the sound he’s making right now—if I had to assign it a human equivalent—it would be sobbing.
He’s never been like this. He’s never been this desperate for anything. I don’t know what happened over there, but I’m afraid to ask.
God, how can I be so selfish. What right have I to be afraid to ask? What if he needs me to ask? I’ll ask, dang it!
“Are you okay, buddy? What—what happened?”
“I miss you, Grace!” He cries. “I miss you so much!”
Tears immediately cloud my vision. He doesn’t want to talk about it. I understand. I won’t. I promise. I’m sorry.
“I missed you too,” I assure him. “I missed you more than anyone in my whole life.”
Suddenly, Rocky shrieks and jerks his hand away from mine. I take a close look at him as he grabs his upper arm. I see a few drops of thick, sliver liquid leak out. I think I was wrong about that hairline crack. Whatever’s going on must be significantly worse. He wouldn’t be bleeding if it wasn’t bad.
“We need to get you to sleep, Rocky. You’re hurt.”
He lowers his carapace and pushes his claw back through the glass, taking hold of my hand instantly.
“Sleep? No...No! No sleep! Rocky not want sleep! Want Grace! Need Grace! ♫♪♫♪♪, Grace, ♫♪♫♪♪, no sleep! Stay! St—”
“Rocky, calm down!” I yell. “I don’t understand what you’re saying, buddy! Grace stupid, remember?! Slow! Slow.”
“Grace...Grace, Rocky not want sleep. Afraid. ♫♪♫♪♪, Grace. So afraid. Need Grace to stay. Need you.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Rocky. I wouldn’t dream of going anywhere. I—I don’t understand what’s wrong. Why don’t you want to sleep?”
“Grace,” he whimpers, “Rocky need you to be real. Afraid. Afraid sleep and—and when wake up…”
Is he saying he’s afraid he’s hallucinating right now? Do Eridians hallucinate?!
“I’m real, Rocky. I’m really here. What can I do to make that clear?”
“Not know. Not know. Hard to think right now.”
I look over his carapace. He’s wearing his little brownish-orange vest right now. He’s got his light-to-texture tool sitting on the left side and the tablet on the right.
“Use your tool, Rocky. Point the light-to-texture thing at me. It will read out my features. Point it all over. Get my name patch too.”
Rocky hastily pulls the gun out of his vest and activates it. He’s pointing it at me while tapping his leg. He whines.
“Not know… tool could—could lie. Brain could lie. Rocky want this to be real so much.”
“Trust your tools, Rock. Trust them.” I press my face to the glass. It’s still really hot, but I’ll manage. “You’re an amazing engineer. They work. They wouldn’t lie to you.”
“Rocky need sleep, Grace. Have been hurt too long,” he admits. “♫♪♫♪♪, Grace. Tell me you be here when Rocky wake up. No go to ship. No go anywhere. ♫♪♫♪♪, Grace. No leave me.”
“I won’t. I promise, Rock, I won’t go anywhere.” I wrap both my arms around the ball. “I would never leave you.”
Okay, I think he’s finally starting to calm down. I’m not sure if he’s fully buying that I’m real, but he’s at least willing to—to… I don’t know. Give into it. I place my hand near the flexible xenonite and he’s already clasping it again.
“Sleep, buddy. I’ll watch. I’ll keep you safe.”
Slowly, his grip loosens, and he drags his claw back to a resting position.
“Stay. ♫♪♫♪♪, stay. I love you… Grace.” I hear, his notes quickly softening. “I… love… you.”
I crack a smile, which probably looks more like a grimace with how hard I’m fighting to not cry.
“I love you too, pal.” I press my cheek to him. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
He goes stiff, which I think I’m actually thankful for. I don’t want to see him like this ever again. I look around the tunnel. He and I are kind of floating out toward the center now. Not a good place to be when sleeping, in my opinion. We should be closer to my airlock, wedged into a corner or something. That feels more secure, right? More safe?
Well, first, I need a computer. I need something, some kind of soothing noise or simple activity. This day has been such a horrible mess for the both of us. We just need something light and fun. Something calming.
I am not leaving him though. No way. Not even for a second. I’ll have to push him along as I grab a spare thinking-machine.
So I do. I push him along with me as I enter the control room, careful to always touch his ball with at least something. A hand, my back, a leg, even. He would never know if I let go, obviously. He’s dead to the world right now. But I won’t. I won’t let go. Just because.
With a computer clamped underneath my arm, we make our way back to the tunnel and I wedge Rocky into the bottom left corner. I sit close by him, keeping my calf touching the ball as I plug the computer into The Clump.
All right, let’s see what we’ve got here. I browse through a shared drive that’s hosted somewhere on the Hail Mary. I actually have no clue where our servers are. I wonder if they’re Linux? I hope so. Last thing we need is some crappy proprietary software serving up our most important, valuable data. I’d rather have millions of developer’s eyes on the code that we run, thank you very much.
I scroll some more, looking through various games and movies and such. I think I’m too fried for any of that right now. We need something simpler. How about some sound?
I double tap a file titled “gentle-rain-004.wav”. The sound immediately fills the tunnel. What an apt name. This rain is very gentle. Very calming. Exactly what I was looking for, actually.
My head turns to Rocky once more. The silvery patches on his carapace are beginning to darken as the black powdery scabbing material forms. I will not be blowing that off this time. Learned that lesson.
Pushing my body closer, I grab his ball with two hands. What I wouldn’t give to hold him for real. To keep him safe within my blobby, dangling arms.
I close my eyes and rest my head against the top of the ball. His carapace is close by. It’s okay that I’m not touching him. This is good enough. I shouldn’t… wish for more...
I…
Hmm…
Hm…
Oh jeez, what—did I fall asleep for a second there? What—what time is it?
Lifting my chest off the ball, I come to the realization that everything aches. Literally everything. But how? I only dozed off for a second there. Right?
I look toward my computer and—holy crap! I did not just doze off! Not at all!
I slept for 11 hours! That’s like… almost 40,000 seconds. That’s triple—no, quadruple—what I’ve gotten even on my best nights these last few weeks.
What a treat!
Pressing my leg to the ball, I float up straight and stretch. My back emits many very interesting sounds. Many, very movie-like, sounds. Like, if I was one of those henchmen in a crime film, these are exactly the sounds my body would make when the detective throws me off a balcony or something. I mean, it sounds like I broke literally everything.
Good thing Rocky didn’t hear that. He’s still asleep. He has never liked hearing my joints. I think they freak him out more than most things. Could be because he knows that they crack more with age or with certain conditions. I did tell him that. Right before explicitly stating that I’m not cracking because of my age.
I squint as I inspect his legs. They look pretty good. Really good actually. Hopefully he feels better today. Yesterday was just really messed up.
Oh, I’ve just realized, I don’t hear the rain anymore. I pull the computer onto my lap. What happened here… ah, okay, I just forgot to loop it. I start the video back up and my ears fill with the sounds of rain. Of Earth.
I can almost feel it. Being out in the woods on a rainy day. I went to this one forest by the school pretty often. Sometimes after work, sometimes before. It was close enough to bike to, which made it a part of my daily, or at least weekly, schedule. I loved when the fog would rest just below the pine trees, just by my feet. It felt magical in a way.
“Gr-Grace?” I hear, pulling me back to the tunnel. “Grace?!”
“Hey, buddy,” I coo. I quickly shift the computer off of my lap and bring both hands to the ball. “I’m here. You’re okay. You’re safe.”
He reaches a hand through the flexible glass once again. I’m quick to grab it.
“You are here,” he says. “You are here! Really here! You save me!”
“Yeah, pal, I’m here. How could I not be? What kind of friend would I be if I left you out here?”
“You are more than friend. You are best friend. Best, best, best!”
I smile. “You’re my best, best, best friend too.”
Rocky sways happily from side to side. It’s been forever since I’ve seen him do that. Oh, I’ve actually started swaying as well. Hm, when in Rome!
Turning his carapace toward the computer, his swaying slows. He clicks at it a few times before turning back to me.
“What is noise, question?”
“Oh, the rain,” I chuckle. “It’s the sound water makes when it falls from the sky on Earth. It’s very comforting for humans to hear it. I put it on for us while you slept so we could relax a little. I know that probably sounds silly but… it felt right. After so long apart.”
“Is beautiful, Grace. Rain is beautiful,” he says, pressing himself to the glass. “Hug... ♫♪♫♪♪.”
I lean in with a smile and drape my arms over the top of the ball. I’m not sure what that last word is, but I’m happy to give as many hugs as he wants. Maybe I should ask about it? Yeah, yeah I think I should.
“Hey, buddy, what’s the word you said after ‘hug’? I think I heard you say it last night too? Did I hear that right?”
“Yes. You heard correct. It is…word for ask nicely.”
Huh? The word is for ‘asking nicely’? Is he’s talking about ‘please’? Rocky and I have discussed ‘please’ to death. To beyond death by now. It was one of our biggest culture shocks. In fact—
Son of a gun, it’s undead!
We’ve talked about it so much that it’s risen from the grave!
Hm, but he told me he didn’t have a word for it? He said that it was a stupid word that I should stop saying over and over and over again because it was unnecessary. He said that Eridian politeness was implied by tone. So what the heck, Rock?
“I tell you word not exist because… because word has no dignity. When use ‘please’ on Erid, you say more than just ‘ask nicely’. Much more. You ask for mercy. You are beg. You are offer anything to person you say word to. You abandon all pride when say. You say you cannot live without this.”
I feel a pit grow in my stomach and rise to my throat. That does not sound like the word please. At all. And he was using that a lot yesterday, specifically in relation to me. He was begging for me. I mean, I think I knew that, just from the tone, but this adds a whole new layer of—of fucked up to this situation.
Wait, and didn’t he just use that word when asking for a hug? Oh jeez, I’ve gotta nip this in the bud right now.
“Hey, Rocky, no more please word, okay? Seriously, you do not have to use that with me. Like, I don’t wanna hear you use it ever. Period. Statement.”
“I use word because I trust you, Grace. I know you will not use to hurt me.”
“Rocky…” I groan. “You used that word when asking for a hug. No one should have to lay down their pride for a stinkin’ hug, dude. I don’t want you to do that.”
“Apology,” he says, reaching through the glass. His claw is in my hand before he can finish the word. “Has been very hard without you. Very scary. Rocky feel many emotion right now. Hard to use right words. Hard to think.”
“Hey, it’s okay, buddy. There’s no need to apologize. I’m very emotional right now too. Maybe—maybe we should talk about it? Would that help?”
Rocky’s claw slips out of my palm. He brings it back to the floor with his other four limbs.
Oh no, did I make him uncomfortable? Dang it, I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s too soon. I purse my lips and look away from him. I want him to know I feel bad about asking but.. I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to bring it up again.
“W-what happen next, Grace?” He offers up, to my relief. “You go to Erid and then Earth?”
Oh, come on! Any other question would have been preferable to that. He’s already upset and if we talk about that, it’s only gonna get worse.
Shoot, he’s noticed my silence. I know he has because he’s clicking at me. It’s upsetting him. I’m upsetting him. But I don’t want to talk about this. I don’t want to hurt him more than he’s already been hurt.
“Grace?” I hear.
But it’s not like I can hide it. All he has to do is listen to the storage area below the dormitory. That’s all he needs to figure out that I don’t have enough for the trip home. Man… if only he couldn’t see through walls.
“No, Rock, I go to Erid, but I don’t go home after that. Even if you gave me the fuel, I don’t have enough food for the journey.”
Without a word, two of his claws push through the xenonite glass. I twist my gloves off and take both of his hands in mine before pressing my head to his carapace. I can feel him shaking so I tighten my grip as best I can.
“It’s okay. I’m okay. I chose this. I want this, buddy.”
“You—you come back for Rocky...knowing you starve, question?”
“Yes. Because I love you. I couldn’t live with myself knowing that you and Erid wouldn’t be okay. I had this whole plan drawn out and—”
“No,” he says, utterly still. Suddenly he removes his hands from mine and huddles to the bottom of the ball. “No… no... no...”
“C’mon, Rocky… don’t do that. Please. I—I’m happy. This is a happy thing.”
“No! Is no happy! Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid!” He shouts, lifting his carapace as high as he can. “You must eat! Eat Rocky food! Eridian food have same proteins, same sugars. Same, same, same! Share everything with you!”
“I can’t. The heavy metals, Rock. They’d kill me.”
“No… no…” He whines. “You must eat, please. Cannot lose you. Please.”
“It’s okay, Rocky, everything’s okay,” I say, my eyes filling with tears. “I’m gonna get you home to Erid, to Adrian, and you’re gonna live a long, long, happy life with them. And—and it’ll be good, you know? And the Taumoeba, they’ll fix up your star. And Erid will—“
“Taumoeba!” He shouts, pressing his hands to the glass. “Yes! Grace eat Taumoeba! No heavy metal! Still same proteins, same sugars! You eat! You no die! Rocky no lose you!”
My jaw slips open. Is that actually possible? In theory, they’re still genetically related to cellular life on Earth so… maybe? I try scrutinizing the idea but aside from the taste and potential mineral and vitamin deficiencies, I uh—really don’t see an issue with it as a food source.
“That might actually work.” I huff. “That could actually, seriously work!”
“Yes! Yes! Grace so smart! See? You fix! You have plan! You eat Taumeoba and come to Erid with Rocky. When there, we find much better food. Find way to make Grace food. Keep you happy. No starve. You like, question? Good plan, question?”
“I mean… it’s a plan. One that actually includes me living. That’s a heck of a lot better than anything I came up with, let me tell you that.”
“Yes, tell me!” He says, bouncing up and down. “Tell me you like plan!”
I laugh. A real, genuine, honest laugh. The first I’ve had in weeks.
“Yes, buddy, I like this plan. It’s very, very good.”
Rocky warbles a happy song and reaches two claws through the glass. I quickly take them both. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, I think I might actually live. Rocky has somehow given me what I thought was impossible. What I was certain was impossible. He’s given me a chance to live.
When did my hands stop shaking?