Chapter Text
The ship was quiet again.
It had been quiet before. For so long. Far too long.
Then Grace had shown up, and sound had become part of my life again. The squishy alien had always been loud. Even when he was asleep, I could still hear him. His breathing, his heartbeat, the way he always shifted around, and his organs working. It had been weird at first, but I had quickly grown fond of it. It was the sound of life. Life beside me. A friend. And all the noise he made, even the involuntary kind, had reminded me that I wasn’t alone anymore. It had comforted me. Had made me happy. I treasured the time I had spent with Grace, and I would always remember him.
But now, the noise was gone. The ship was filled with silence. And I was alone again.
We were both on our way to our respective planets, each with the solution to our Astrophage problem stored in the xenonite breeders I had made. We could both go home and save our stars. It was truly incredible. After all the years I had spent all alone in the Tau Ceti system, and after everything I had tried but failed to do on my own, I was finally going home. To Adrian. Thanks to Grace.
I should be happy beyond measure. We had achieved the goal of our missions. It’s everything I ever wanted after failing for so long. And yet, I couldn’t shake a feeling of sadness. Yes, I had gained everything I needed to go home and save Erid. That was amazing! But I was also leaving something behind.
Someone.
Someone without whom I would never have found a way to save my home. Someone who had become more than just a mission partner. A friend. My best friend. And I would never meet him again.
I crouched down a little and let out a sequence of low notes.
Three weeks had passed since Grace and I said goodbye. Yes, Earth weeks! I was still unconsciously converting all kinds of units even though Grace was no longer here. By now, millions of kilometers already lay between us.
I really missed Grace! And the fact that I would never hear him again hurt more than I’d like to admit. At least I could console myself with the thought that he could go home, too. He wouldn’t starve in space as his original mission had planned. Maybe one day, our species would meet again. But I knew that Grace would no longer be there to see that day, and I would never have the chance to talk to him again.
Even though we both wanted to save our stars, and we had known from the beginning that our time together would end once our work was finished, I still wished we’d had a little more time. We had been through so much together. We had both saved each other at the risk of our lives. And despite being different species and coming from different worlds, Grace had become my best friend. He would always be my best friend.
Yes, I would always miss Grace, and the fact that I would never hear him again made me sad. But I was also happy that I got to meet him, and I’ll always have the memories of our time together. Once I got home, I would tell all of Erid about Grace so that his contribution to saving our star would never be forgotten.
I took comfort in that prospect and shook my carapace before going back to work.
My daily routine had reverted to what it was before Grace had shown up. I had to sleep alone again, without anyone keeping watch. And when I was awake, I maintained the ship. I found myself making more noise than necessary just so it wouldn’t feel so lonely. It was a habit I had developed during all these years I had been alone on my ship, and now that Grace was gone, I had fallen back into it. But, unlike before, I was full of hope because I was returning to Erid with the Taumoeba that would save our star. It would only be another three years. That was nothing compared to the time I had spent here alone. And the gift Grace had left me—the Earth thinking machine—was a good way to pass the time and learn what knowledge humans had acquired throughout their history.
I missed Grace. I know I always will. But thanks to him, both of our planets now had a chance to survive. So, things were okay. Things were good. We were going home.