Chapter Text
Eva Stratt is not having a good day.
This comes to no surprise to her. She knew she was out of those the moment they had asked her to lead the astrophage mission, and she had already made her peace with it. This was somehow much worse than when it was just the sun dimming out.
It had been a tragedy, and a catastrophe, and a dark tunnel with no apparent way out. But it had been understandable. And if Eva could understand it, then she could find way to turn it into something solvable. Whatever the cost.
This was not something she could understand.
It was the answer to every single one of Earth’s prayers. It was a miracle. It was too good to be true.
When the first message arrived, it was in the form of a radio signal, with three words (Eva, Stratt, Astrophage) and the rest encrypted. She had had no time for it, not with how little they seemed to have these days. It was probably some prideful mind who had felt offended at being left out of the mission, and decided to prove to everyone how wrong they had been by showing off their skills. Throwing a message to her, perhaps some form of intimidation tactic, make it seem like it was coming from outer space. Make a fool out of everyone.
But then the most brilliant minds working together for a month had not been able to trace back its origins. So Statt had decided to give it an hour of her day.
Then the rest of it, when the password turned out to be Hail Mary, and the spaceship parked exactly where it claimed it would be, in the asteroid belt behind mars, perfectly disguised between the debris and rock formation.
They called themselves eridians, and were originally from 40-Eridani. They had a problem with Astrophage, and managed to solve it completely a few years back. They knew Earth was in trouble too. They had brought the solution with them.
And they wanted Ryland Grace to come to their ship to help develop it.
She is not stupid. She knows that giving the aliens a specimen of the human race to study is a bad idea, even without bringing ethics into the table. Its seat was already cold anyway.
But she also knows that there’s probably not much they didn't already know. They had come in a spaceship much, much larger than anything humanity has managed to build so far, hiding it between space debris to remain undetectable, unless you happened to hear their message yet.
The one they sent in perfect English, and contains proof that they are more than familiar with Eva Stratt, her work, and the people she employs. Information that she has been very careful to keep under wraps.
They have some way of spying on them. Probably had for a while, to have this degree of knowledge over them. And they had probably waited until humanity seemed desperate enough to do whatever it took for an answer before dangling it in front of their faces.
It was clever. Logical. Exactly what she would have done in their place.
Wait until she couldn't afford to say no to them.
She still tries, because sending the leading expert in your world ending problem into potential enemy hands is universally regarded as a bad move. They don’t have any proof that these eridians really have the solution to astrophage, or that they would give it willingly. Project Hail Mary is still operating until any of this changes.
But they won’t concede. This was non negotiable, they explain. But they are happy to give Ryland Grace more time to consider his options if that’s the problem.
More time.
It almost feels like an insult.
Dr. Grace is not even in the room when the matter is being debated, and Eva Stratt can’t say that his absence goes unnoticed.
He says no, of course, when he’s asked. She can’t say she wasn't expecting it. Stratt gives him two more days to think about it. On the third, the aliens expect their answer.
In the meantime, she goes about vetoing their list of requests. There are things that she expected, like samples of cells and microorganisms, and things that she did not, like a crate of sour skittles.
There are things that scare her, too. Like cake batter, shoes, and a very loaded e-reader. Prescription glasses of different diopters. Things that a human that’s going to spend in space much longer than the three months they had originally requested would want.
They don’t even bother to mix the sizes to hide their intentions.
When Eva Stratt gives Dr. Grace to the aliens, she will do so knowing that he would probably never return.
That’s why she’s vetoing the list on her own.
There’s a knock on her door.
Steve Hatch is waiting on the other side, with a stack of papers in arms and looking paranoically from one side to another.
So, this too is about the aliens, she realises, and feels her headache grow. She presses a button, and the door unlocks with a buzzing sound.
The man hurries inside, stopping short of a step from her desk. “I… think I found something” he tells her, uncertainty written all over his face.
“Nothing good, I imagine”. Nothing good ever comes from someone knocking a door with his expression at four in the morning. “Speak”
He moves the chair in front of him to the side, and starts placing sheets of papers on top of her desk. She recognizes them instantly. They are the blueprints the eridians had sent for an improved communications antenna.
“I want to start by saying I’m not sure of any of this. I mean, this is quite literally alien technology,” he laughs. “There are many things that I’m still working on understanding. But there are a few things I’ve noticed… I’m concerned”
Hatch points towards subgroup number twenty seven. The reference calls it ‘Temperature and Pressure adaptation modules’.
“This are all eridians blueprints, that they sent for us to adapt to our atmosphere and resources, right?”
“That would be correct, yes,” she carefully replies.
“Then, why would they have this? Set to Earth levels, mind you”. Stratt picks the blueprint to examine, as he starts pacing around the room. “I mean, from a technical point, I understand why. Some of these materials only behave in the way they need to under those parameters. But how in the universe would they have found that out? Who has the time to test the way every element behaves in that many circumstances?”
She leans back in her chair, watching him. Hatch is clever enough to reach the same conclusion she had since the messages started coming. There’s something else going on here.
He continues. “Of course, we have been suspecting they have been spying on us for a while. Even considering that we've had this technology for less than three years, maybe they are clever enough to adapt it that fast. Or there’s just that many of them. And then I notice this,” he says, pointing at a blur at the end of the page.
Eridians, blind as they are, do not rely on paper and pen for planning. They use a lot of 3D models, apparently, and when that becomes impractical, they record it in soundwaves. It makes sense, for a species that makes sense of figures by the way they sound, and it made sending the information they needed through the radio relatively painless, once they figured out how to make a translator.
Of course, there are things that don’t come out perfectly. That’s why she had a team of engineers to interpret, analyze, and remake the blueprints.
These weren't those. These were the original translations, rough edges and mysterious shapes present.
“These are numbers, I know that, but we weren’t sure what they were for. It’s a big one, and it also has some symbols in the middle of it. We were planning on asking what it meant next chance available. But then I remember having seen something similar at the start of the transmissions”
He digs a copy of last week’s message, the numbers he referred to already highlighted, the translation next to it.
“It’s a date,” she realises. He keeps digging for more copies of transmissions past, comparing them one to another.
“They are dates!” he confirms. “And thanks to the ones they have been sending us I made a guess as to when it’s supposed to be. Thirteen Earth years ago”
There’s a pause, where they both stare at the papers scattered around. It would be bold to assume they understood completely the way they marked their passage of time, not to mention the reason why they placed it there.
“We can’t be sure of what it means,” she tells him, slowly.
He rushes to grab another blueprint. “I know, I know, but there’s another thing. These two shapes on top of it. The bigger one on the right is the same in every blueprint, but the one on the left changes from subgroup to subgroup. Sometimes, when a part has to interact with two subgroups, both symbols are present next to the big one.
They are all included here, in the last page, too. The big one in the middle, and the others around it”
“You have a theory,” she states. Not a question.
Hatch runs a hand through his hair. “At first I thought it was a way to organise the document, but they already have their order and designation here, on the top left” He points at it in one page. “But I just didn't want to accept it”
Statt looks at the eridian blueprint, and then at the one made by her team. An idea is starting to form in her mind. “This is speculation,” she tries to argue.
He raises his arms in the air. “Of course it is! But we have to look at the facts here. These are important documents by a species that works in groups. That has a hierarchy, with a captain, and a chief of communications, and a group of engineers. They were making a complex artifact with possibly unknown technology to communicate with a group of aliens. I think it stands to reason that they would want some sort of traceability for this!”
“You believe this to be their signatures”
“Yes!” He finally takes a seat, leaning against the backrest. “Can you believe it? Sixteen light years of distance and two species independently invented bureaucracy”
She can believe it, actually.
She takes a look at both blueprints, one next to the other. One has been signed by Steve Hatch, dated yesterday, and is still waiting for a superior to approve it. The other one is dated more than a decade ago by two aliens excited to soon meet their neighbours in the universe.
Stratt takes a deep breath, and points out the facts. “One. We are not sure we are correct in our assumptions. Engineering or not, this is the result of an alien society that might have completely different ideas of what is proper to place in their documentation”
“I mean, technically, but-”
“Two,” she continues, “This has been given to us by the eridians by their own will. Even if that is what we are supposed to interpret, we cannot be sure that it is true”
He frowns at her, picking up his things. He’s angry, she faintly notices. “So what, they are playing mind games with us?”
Stratt looks at the paper bin under her desk. There’s an empty package of sour skittles lying inside. It wasn't her that ate it.
“Perhaps,” she answers, honestly. “The only thing that we can be sure of is that we don’t have all the pieces of the puzzle. They are keeping something from us.” Something that either they don’t trust humanity to know just yet, or that seems much more powerful while under wraps. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention. You are dismissed.”