Chapter Text
The sun was burning hot in the sandy landscape, and I could hardly see the screen of my phone. Squinting hard, I try to turn up the screen brightness only to see the faint outline of the rocket still sitting on its pad. I’m holding my breath the entire time, ignoring the sweltering heat pricking at my skin. I know how important this is to Ryland, and I understand the meaning of the launch all too well to act nonchalant like everybody on set. They weren’t the ones listening to Ryland’s constant worry-talk over the past two years.
God I wish he would have tried calling again. I missed his last call because of stupid Ryder and the stupid suicide I had to stage to escape. I immediately sent Ry a message to explain that I am alive and to not believe the news, but he hasn’t responded. He was probably too busy preparing everything and didn’t have signal, like usual.
I hope he didn’t get the chance to watch the news at all. It would just stress him out more, even with my message.
I heard Dan call out to me from a nearby tent. He was done yelling at some alien-costumed extras, it seemed, and it was my turn to get instructions for the next take. There were only a few scenes left, and then Metalstorm will be done with filming.
I keep my eyes on the launch pad and comb over the crowd, trying to see whether Ryland was there. But knowing his part in it, he was probably in some control room somewhere with the president or something.
Geez. I still feel so guilty over missing his call. I know he must be sick with anxiety. He doesn’t have a good track record with it. I hope he’s okay. It’s very weird that he hasn’t texted or called. Especially with the news broadcasting my fake death everywhere.
“Colt!” Dan yells again.
I sigh and make my way to the tent, still not lowering my screen. The rocket was beginning to ignite. I watch with a weird pit forming in my stomach, and I can’t place whether it's my worry for Ry’s well-being or the tension of watching a giant tin can launch itself off the ground in a spur of fire. I already know that Ry is going to be eating himself alive if this fails. He must be so nervous. It must be why he hasn’t shown his face online in the past two days. Even if that is weird of him… He’s always been the ‘heart-on-my-sleeve” twin. As opposed to the ‘leave-me-alone-to-die-and-wallow’ twin. The latter being me, of course.
“The hell got you so distracted, Seavers?” Dan blurted out. He’s looking at me, and I barely tear my eyes off the ascending rocket to acknowledge it.
“The NASA launch,” I admit awkwardly, wiping the sweat off the back of my neck. The rocket seems to be climbing up nicely. All straight. If it meant to explode, it would have already done so, right? The launch room must be applauding already. I bet Ry is getting pats on the back.
“The dying Sun stuff? Since when are you interested in all that?”
“Well you know,” I finally lower my phone after catching a glimpse of some people clapping at the launch site. “My brother’s been working on it. The whole space project.”
“No way?” Dan’s mouth is gaping open now. “Ryland?”
“THE Ryland,” I smirk. There’s genuine pride in my chest for a moment, but it is quickly shunned down by anxiety.
Dan’s met him a few times; Ryland visited me on set before. The first time Dan saw him, he had no clue I had a twin and was promptly confused to find ‘me’ sitting in the van and correcting school papers, wearing some cheesy fox cardigan and glasses. I remember Ryland found it funny. He even tried to pretend to be me for a full minute before laughing his ass off.
Dan was already grabbing a remote and turning on the small TV tucked in the corner of the tent. He begins surfing through the channels, trying to find the live launch while I continue to drone on about Ry.
“He wasn’t really allowed to talk about the project much, but you know how he is. Blabbermouth. I gathered the gist of it.”
“Oh I remember,” Dan said, now smiling. “He was funny. Unlike you.” He finally found the channel. The camera was panning over the control room and of people hugging each other and celebrating a successful launch.
Huh. That’s weird. I don’t see Ry among them.
Dan turned the volume up, lightly shaking his head as he smiled, still pondering over my words. “Can’t believe your brother is a bigger shot than you.”
“Oh wow. Yeah. I mean sure when you put it like that-”
“We make movies, man, and he’s like… launching rockets to fix a dying Sun. That’s meta as fuck.”
“Yeah. Yep,” I don’t even try to argue, feeling myself smile wider. “He’s pretty incredible.” My eyes keep wandering to the TV screen. I fail to see Ry among the group. Even that woman is there. Stratt. She’s keeping a straight face as people around her shake hands.
Where is Ry? He should be first in line to receive congratulations.
Pictures pull up to the screen. My heart stops. I tune in to the broadcaster’s voice. “...a successful launch of the three astronauts. The crew is expecting smooth sailing towards a star called Tau Ceti.”
I stare at the pictures and their names. Olesya Ilyukhina. Yao Li-Je. Ryland Grace.
“Wait,” Dan scratched his head. “You didn’t say he’s the one flying up there.”
“...Because he isn’t?” I carefully answer. “He’s not in the rocket.”
Yet I stare at the screen. At my brother’s face. Dan is staring along with me.
“The… the news man,” I point at the screen with my hand. “They fucked up. Ry’s not an astronaut. He’s… he’s just a their science guy.”
“...and Dr. Ryland Grace, a molecular biologist, comprising the crew of the ship we now know as the Hail Mary.”
I laugh. The sound that leaves my mouth sounds frail. Nervous. “What the hell is she talking about?”
Dan is fidgeting with the remote, staring at the screen and the smiley newsreporter. She continues to show the ship’s flight plan. She mentions no return route. Which I knew already. Which is why I know Ryland isn’t with the crew.
“That’s all wrong,” I say, barely keeping my smile as I watch Ryland picture flash on the screen along with the other two astronauts. The pit in my stomach won’t stop growing. “He’s not… He teaches in school.”
Dan is mute. My phone suddenly feels very heavy, and without even bothering to think twice, I swiftly enter Ry’s contact and press call. Dan watches me as I shift my feet, pressing the phone against my ear so hard that I hear the protective mask squeak. “Just. Give me a moment,” I dismiss Dan, already turning my back to him.
I make my way out of the tent. The ringing stops, and I immediately tense up. “Ry-”
“This is Grace. And I don’t know how to do a voice-memo. Please leave a message. Or don’t. I don’t know.” There’s a long beep, and I find myself standing frozen. His phone was off.
That doesn’t mean anything. He usually has no signal. Living in the middle of the ocean and everything-
I hastily open our text chat. My last message still remains unopened, and I feel my throat tighten as I let my fingers dance over the keyboard.
Me: Ry?
Me: I’m getting kinda worried man
Me: Can you answer your phone?
I try calling again. It goes straight to voice mail. “This is Grace. And I don’t know how to do a voice-memo. Please leave a message. Or don’t. I don’t know.” I’m shaking my head, already pressing the call button again, as if it could magically turn his phone on if I try hard enough.
“Pick up. Pick up. Pick up.”
Dan is behind me. “Colt.”
I wave my hand, trying to tell him to leave me alone for a bit. But Dan stays. “This is Grace. And I don’t know how to do a voice-memo-”
“Fuck!” I exclaim. I cancel the call, and immediately assault the button again. “Fucking pick up. Prick.”
Dan is not saying anything. I don’t even try looking at his face to know what kind of expression he is making, and I am growing more and more irritated.
Ryland's atrocious voice memo plays again. “What the fuck!” I yell. “What the fucking fuck-”
I’m already canceling the call to try again, when Jody’s voice breaks me out of the loop. She’s running towards us. My heart only drops lower as I notice her damp cheeks and redness of her eyes “Colt!” She gasps out. “Oh Colt! The news-”
I make no attempt to move or welcome her with my arms, as she hangs herself on my shoulder, burying her face against it. She’s hugging me tightly, and I have no clue what to do. Ryland’s voice plays on the voice memo again. My heart is fucking beating a hundred miles an hour, burried somewhere deep, deep under my stomach.
I look at Dan. He’s holding a hand over his mouth, staring at my pale, wide-eyed face as Ryland’s message plays. Why are they acting as if this is reality? It just can’t be.
The voice message stops.The following silence makes it worse, somehow. They are all looking at me worriedly. They just accepted the idea that my (5 hours) younger brother is going to space. To die. No.
“No, no, no,” I say out loud. “No. No fucking way.”
“Oh Colt,” Jody is crying quietly.
“No,” I firmly retorted. “Just no. This is a misunderstanding. Ryland wouldn’t do that. No. He would tell me.” My voice doesn’t sound confident.
He did try to call. I remember quickly and violently. I missed his last call.
Suddenly I am not breathing. Suddenly I am staring at the sand, wide-eyed and struck with the realization that I haven’t heard from Ryland in two days. That his phone was off. That NASA reports him as a part of the rocket crew.
Ryland is not that kind of person. No. Ry is not the daredevil, stunt pulling twin. No. Ryland is scared of being hurt. Ryland fears shit going wrong. He fears it. The kid who used to come crying to me in school when he got picked on? The kid who then also tried to pull me away from his bullies because he felt scared? He wouldn’t dream of going to space. That is just ridiculous. He’s not even a space scientist, whatever they are called. No. This is all wrong.
Ry wouldn’t go. Ry wouldn’t. Ry wouldn’t. He wouldn’t.
“Colt. Colt,” Jody is trying to speak to me. She’s cupping my face, and I can barely hear her over my heaving. I sound like a broken wind pipe.
I grab my head. My hair. Jody is crying in front of me, trying to pacify me. I keep replaying the news broadcast in my head. The rocket. Ry can’t be on that ship. He just can’t. He can’t. It’s a suicide mission. Ry can’t die. That’s just not possible.
That missed call. What the hell was he calling about? Surely not.
No. No. No.
He can’t be flying to his death. I did not just watch my brother launch into orbit.
“Colt please breathe, please-”
I find myself crouching on the ground. My lungs and throat won’t cooperate, each attempt becoming a fruitless grotesque sound. I am hyperventilating. My sight is turning grainy. I hear a faint echo of Dan yelling for somebody. He’s calling for help. I realize.
I am fucking dying of a heart attack, aren’t I?
I am dying because Ryland is on that fucking ship.