Chapter Text
Right now, people across the globe are focused on a single event—the launch of the rocket carrying the future hopes of Earth.
K knew that once the Soyuz reached the Hail Mary waiting in orbit, the crew transfer would begin. Once the astronauts were in position, they would enter a coma lasting over four years, until the Hail Mary brought them to a distant star to find out why it remained uninfected by the Astrophage, allowing Earth to survive this catastrophe.
“Those brave astronauts will go where no one has gone before,” the news anchor whispered. The broadcast showed only the rocket slowly ascending, accompanied by the thunderous roar of the thrusters. At that moment, K thought of Grace—of the way Grace looked when he smiled while playing music.
-
Their first meeting was in Grace’s dormitory—which was essentially just a trailer with basic functions.
The key to saving human civilization rested with the team led by Eva Stratt, gathering the world's top talent and technology to ensure the Hail Mary could safely reach Tau Ceti. Before that, the team's safety was paramount. The U.S. government provided the pinnacle of their latest technology: K. He was assigned to protect Dr. Ryland Grace, the world's leading authority on Astrophage biology.
"Uh, forget the titles..." the man said, looking a bit uneasy. "Call me Grace or Ryland. I don't mind".
K didn’t answer, simply watching him in silence.
"I mean... is this really necessary?" The man’s body language was stiff—a reaction K recognized as human anxiety. "For those imaginary enemies?".
He was referring to an "accidental" explosion, framed as an act by radicals opposing the project. The truth hadn't reached the media; the Russians were excellent at secrecy. The "terrorist" narrative only circulated internally to prevent others from asking questions.
"Beyond ensuring your safety, we must make others believe in the threat," K said, trying to soften his tone. He knew most humans felt anxious about his existence. He was used to it. "Additionally, I will intervene if you engage in behaviors that damage your health".
"Like what?"
"Excessive late nights or consuming too much sugar." K knew Grace’s habits from his files. Compared to previous missions, this one might be less complex.
"Hey, that sugar helps me think! It's not a bad thing!" Grace grumbled, then rubbed his face tiredly. "Fine. I guess it’s inevitable. There isn’t a person on Earth who can defy Stratt's orders. I bet even the Pope has to listen. You’re here to make sure I don’t kill myself... though it sounds less like a bodyguard and more like a nanny". He gave a self-deprecating laugh.
Grace walked to the fridge and opened it. "Want something to drink? Sparkling water?".
"I don't require it."
"Do you guys... not need to eat?"
"We can, but our needs are not like a human’s," K said simply.
"Wow, amazing. If I had time, I'd love to understand the mechanics..." Grace muttered to himself. "Mind if I play some music?".
"As you wish. I won't interfere with your routine."
"You really can call me Grace. Don't be so formal." Grace scratched his head and fiddled with the stereo. A melodious piano tune began to play. "Things have been so busy lately. I heard classical music helps with thinking".
To K, music was a foreign concept. Humans had always created art from their imagination, and music was the product of various sounds—pitch, timbre, and rhythm—woven into compositions.
Grace tilted his head. "Do you have a style you like?".
K shook his head. As a NEXUS-9, he followed the orders of his owner. Appreciating music was not within his programmed directives. Grace smiled, sat on the sofa, and patted the spot next to him. "Perfect. I don’t really get it either, but I think we can listen together".
K was confused. Grace frowned slightly. "Uh... or do I need to use... a command?".
K felt that anything he said would be inappropriate, so he simply strode over and sat down beside Grace, upright and formal. Grace sighed in relief, his smile bright.
"I saw someone explaining the background of classical music once. It was interesting," Grace said, finding a video on his phone to match the music. "I never thought much about it before, but with the explanation, the way those melodies are used... the delays or accelerations in rhythm... they create unexpected results".
"Sometimes I think it’s like our research on Astrophage. You can’t judge those little things by normal standards. Who would’ve thought life could exist on the surface of the sun? But if you step outside the box, they show extraordinary results".
K just listened in silence. He wasn't a talkative model.
"Uh... if I’m talking too much, you can tell me," Grace said with an apologetic smile.
"It’s fine. It is good this way," K replied simply. Grace didn't seem repelled by him. K liked that. It made him feel almost human.
-
"Yes, he ran away," Stratt said calmly over the phone.
"I understand." K knew Grace would try to run. He had told Stratt, but she had remained silent. Based on their time together, K knew Grace was a gentle, kind, and patient man—a teacher by nature. But he was also cowardly; he hated unpredictable risks.
"...Pack his bags. Carl will meet you," Stratt ordered.
-
While packing, K remembered Grace talking about the astronauts on the mission.
"They are so brave, disregarding life and death. It's hard for me to understand," Grace had said, staring at his hands. "Yao told me that if you find someone worth being brave for, you just do it. But if it were me... I’d choose not to go".
K wasn't sure if it was because Grace didn't have such a person, but he was a kind man; he wouldn't abandon his students.
"I... I don't want to die," Grace had whispered, his voice fragile. K felt a sudden discomfort in his chest, though he didn't know why.
"I know," K replied after a hesitation. "No one would blame you, Ryland". All things fear death—humans and replicants alike.
Grace’s frown smoothed out into a smile. "I like it when you call me by my name, K".
Soon, the man yawned. K stood to set the music. He had helped improve Grace's sleep schedule, ensuring he got eight hours when possible.
"What did you pick for the 'goodnight' song this time?" Grace asked, climbing into bed.
To hear it phrased as if the decision were truly his... K felt something stir deep within.
"The video yesterday mentioned Schumann’s Träumerei." K remembered Grace looking touched while watching the explanation.
"Good... I like your taste, K," Grace mumbled, snuggling into the covers.
No, it's your taste, K thought. But it didn't matter. The exhausted human was already asleep as the gentle melody echoed through the room.
-
Grace didn't have many personal items. K packed everything he thought would make him happy. Finally, looking at the luggage tag embroidered with GRACE, K hesitated. Then, he reached out and removed it.
He wasn't sure what he was thinking. He found a slip of paper, handwrote "GRACE" on it, and slid it into the name slot. Even after doing it, he didn't understand his own motivation.
Was it so Grace would see the handwriting and remember him? But K knew Stratt would use amnesia-inducing drugs to lower mission risks. He didn't expect Grace to remember him. In the face of the apocalypse, private thoughts were insignificant—especially those of a replicant.
Let this be the evidence that I was once with him, K thought.
Knock, knock. "It's Carl". K picked up the bag and headed for the door.
-
K watched as the unconscious Grace was placed on a medical bed and wheeled toward surgery. Stratt walked alongside them. K had never seen that expression on her face before. It wasn't coldness, nor was it pity. Usually, she was as heartless as a machine, but in that moment, she looked like a human with feelings.
Even the coldest humans have a soft place inside.
K, bound by Stratt's orders, had known her decision from the start. He knew that if Grace was the third candidate, he would inevitably be sent to the Hail Mary after the "accident".
As a replicant, he could not disobey orders. He could not stop Grace from being sent into space, even though he knew Grace's personal will would never accept it. He knew Grace was afraid of many things: heights, space, being alone, and death.
And he was powerless.
-
"Is there anything K is afraid of?" Grace had once asked.
K looked at him with a puzzled expression.
“You seem like such a brave person, as if you aren't afraid of anything,” Grace said with a small smile. “I’m afraid of so many things; I’ve always envied people like you”.
No. Deep down, in the furthest reaches of his mind, he feared that one day he would be retired, just like the older models before him. But K was certain of one thing: he would do everything in his power to fight for more time.
"If you are afraid but still take the first step, that is bravery," K had replied. "You... stood up for Earth. You didn't run".
"Oh, K, you misunderstand. Stratt didn't give us a choice," Grace laughed. "We were all kidnapped to be here".
"But you still didn't give up," K said stubbornly. He didn't understand how Grace, forced into this boundless ocean of stars, could still work so hard for the future of Earth.
"Hey, I'm not that great," Grace said, his eyes reddening with an embarrassed smile. "But thank you, K," he whispered.
-
The news reported that the Soyuz had successfully entered orbit. The anchor introduced Yao, Ilyukhina, and Grace. K stared at the TV for a long time. Finally, he walked into Grace's empty trailer and stood before the stereo.
He chose a piece of music: Chopin’s Etude Op. 10 No. 3, better known as L’Adieu—The Farewell.
It was K’s own choice to say goodbye to Dr. Ryland Grace.
As the gentle melody echoed and the scent of Grace’s fabric softener lingered in the air, K felt a sudden, overwhelming sense of loss. He walked toward the mirror by the entrance. His expression mirrored the one he had seen on Stratt. In that instant, he understood what humans called "pain".
Was he in pain because he had lost Grace?.
For the first time, K felt unfamiliar emotions: pain, loss, despair. He blinked, and a warm liquid slid down his face. The sensation was both familiar and strange. It wasn't blood. Were these tears?. He didn't know replicants could feel sorrow or cry.
Perhaps, in this moment, he was the closest he had ever been to being human.