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Dr. Grace was a weird guy. Even though he’d only known the man for all of a day and a half before he’d grown the wings, Carl could still confidently say that he’d been weird before. As such, he was content to ignore the rustling and banging sounds coming from inside the man’s cabin as he got dressed at a horrendously early hour of the morning. The man had been clumsy with four limbs (although surprisingly good at juggling), and it had only magnified now that he had six. So, he continued to politely ignore the clanging and banging as the man got ready for the day, choosing not to comment on it and fluster him.
That is, until a defeated little trill of “Carl?” emerged from behind the door, and the agent sighed.
“Yeah, Dr. Grace?” he asked, suppressing the fondness in his voice. One simply couldn’t afford to feel fond in his line of work. It had never been a problem before, with the sort of people he was usually charged with protecting, but Dr. Grace was making it incredibly difficult.
“I think I need a little help?” The admission was quiet, his voice downcast.
“I’m coming,” Carl replied, opening the door.
The scene that greeted him was not too out of the ordinary- a water glass accidentally knocked to the floor by one of the scientist’s wings, a few outfits strewn about as the man tried to find one that was both comfortable and that showed off his physique the least. The bed was unmade as it usually was on the mornings after the rare occasions when the man had actually slept in it. The only real differences were the fact that his wings looked less ruffled than usual and there were a few feathers on the floor.
“I can’t reach these parts,” Grace muttered, motioning loosely to a section on the middle-back of each wing where the feathers were still rumpled.” “I’ve put it off as long as I can, but apparently I now have an instinctual need to, um…” His face was bright red.
“Preen?” Carl finished for him, eyebrows raised. The other man looked like he wanted to melt into the floor.
“Yeah,” he grumbled, hiding his expression from Carl’s view.
“I got you,” Carl sighed. The fondness he was ever trying to suppress was leaking just slightly. “Turn around.”
“Thanks,” Grace huffed, before going ramrod straight as Carl’s fingers sunk into the soft feathers. There was an involuntary, musical little sound that reverberated through his chest that Carl could feel as well as hear.
“Feels nice?” Carl asked, a chuckle breaking free from his own mouth.
“Er, yeah… I wasn’t expecting it,” Grace admitted, almost too quietly to hear. Carl just hummed his acknowledgement and set to work straightening the feathers, ignoring the other man’s mortification.
“All done,” he declared about ten minutes later. “You know, you could ask Stratt next time. She probably knows how to do it better. And she’d likely appreciate the help with her own wings. From what I understand, she’s flexible enough to do everything herself, but I doubt it’s very comfortable.”
“My relationship with my boss is already complicated and… morally dubious enough without offering to… groom each other,” Grace replied, making a face. His indignance seemed to have overshadowed his previous embarrassment.
“Morally dubious because of the kidnapping?” Carl clarified.
“No, because she makes us work unpaid overtime… yes, because of the kidnapping!” Dr. Grace’s face was truly such a work of art at showcasing the myriad of human emotions for all to see. Also, it wasn’t unattractive, but that was not something Carl was going to unpack now or ever, fuck you very much.
“Aren’t teachers supposed to say that there are no stupid questions?” he asked, in lieu of thinking about Dr. Grace’s sculpted cheekbones. “Also, you’re definitely getting paid for overtime, if that helps.”
“You’re not twelve, and it was a stupid question.” Then his expression rapidly morphed to one of surprise. “Wait, I’m getting paid?”
“Yeah, pretty well, in fact, from what I understand. What, you thought you were working for free?”
“I mean, kind of. It would go along with the whole ‘kidnapped to be here’ theme we’ve got going on.”
“She literally made you sign a contract. You saw your remuneration, I’d imagine,” Carl reminded him.
“Oh, you mean the paperwork to make the kidnapping legal? I wasn’t really paying attention to that part. Once Stratt explained all the lab equipment I’d have access to, the rest of it was just white noise while I started planning experiments,” he admitted shamelessly as he shrugged on the harness to keep his wings contained in the lab.
“Birdbrain.” Carl couldn’t resist the jab, especially now that the supernaturally-strong wings were trapped and incapable of whacking him for it.
Dr. Grace’s arms were unfortunately also quite strong, so the playful punch to the bicep he got for the insult still hurt.
______
“The astronauts will be here tomorrow,” Stratt informed him that night in her office. He had been only half-paying attention, still giddy from all the discoveries he’d made about astrophage ribosomal activity that day, but the mention of the people going on the suicide mission jolted him fully into the present.
“Ah, and have they…”
“Still no wings yet,” Stratt anticipated his next question. “And speaking of, take that stupid harness off, it’s hurting mine just to look at yours. There are no beakers for you to break with your clumsiness here.”
He glared at her but did as instructed, stretching them wide and trying not to let the pleasure show on his face.
“I mean, it’s only a matter of time, right?” He asked her. “They’re dying for humanity, surely they’ll get wings soon.”
“It could go either way,” Stratt replied. “Them actually getting to space is a result of a collaborative effort, but there’s nothing to say that they won’t sprout wings on the journey there or whilst in Tau Ceti itself. So we need to pack enough rations for winged individuals, and the EVA suits need to be wing-friendly. So you’ll be doing a lot of that testing.”
“Joy,” he grumbled sarcastically, curling his lip. Then he arranged his expression to be more professional again as a thought occurred to him.
“And flight?” he asked. “If they do get wings, they’ll need to be able to fly, or else they’ll be too distracted to work effectively. What’s the plan for that?”
“An additional compartment below the ship,” Stratt replied. “It will be, essentially, a room made of windows. Just long enough to do some ‘laps’ back and forth. Not ideal, but enough to satisfy a biological imperative, should the need arise.”
“Handy,” Ryland agreed, but he was already looking at the numbers for the feeding system. “Why so much coma slurry, though? Even if all three of them grow wings, this is still a lot more calories than they’ll need.”
“40 Eridani,” Stratt replied.
“Huh?” The wing with that very star twitched involuntarily, and Stratt pointed at it.
“The Eridanus constellation on your right wing. The constellation on your left wing is crucial to our mission. Although there isn’t enough time to make the amount of fuel required to reach both star systems, there’s no reason we can’t make room for the extra coma slurry.”
“That’s very superstitious of you,” Ryland groaned. “Seriously, we’re doing the whole ‘signs and fate’ thing again?”
“I know that you stubbornly refuse to believe in anything unless you have hard data in front of you, but I was picked to be the director of this project and I will be doing as I see fit,” Stratt remarked.
“I mean, good on you, I guess. At the very least, the crew could hang around a little longer drinking coma slurry if they wanted to. Or they’ll have options if the mission ends up taking longer than the solid food lasts. Personally, I’m down for anything that gives them the option to live a bit longer even if I think your reasoning is a bit woo-woo.”
“Your extensive vocabulary continues to astound me, Doctor Grace.” Eva crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.
“Not all of us can speak 8 languages, Stratt.”
“You should be better at speaking yours. And it’s 12 languages, actually.”
“Huh.” Grace tried not to show how impressed he was by that, since she was being so impudent towards him, but his face was, as ever, a window into his emotions in real-time.
Stratt didn’t remark on it. Instead she stood up, crossed to the front of her desk, and grabbed his arm.
“Time to fly.”
________
Dr. Annie Shapiro fidgeted as the Dr. Ryland Grace stared at her as if she was the one with magnificent, space-dark wings covered in what seemed to be, at every angle she could glimpse with her naked eye, actual stardust. And he was staring at her like she was the marvel.
“You’re Dr. Annie Shapiro,” he muttered, awe-struck. “You’re like, the DNA queen. Holy Moly.”
The angelic being in front of her saying holy moly did not temper his aura in the least, but it was enough to make Annie force her mouth to work.
“And you’re the world’s foremost expert on astrophage. And you have wings,” she gawked. Just because her mouth was working did not mean that the things it was saying weren’t embarrassing, holy shit.
“And you’re both huge nerds,” a Russian-accented voice came from behind them, and they both turned to look at her.
“Hi. Olesya Ilyukhina. Primary Engineer. So excited to die for Earth!” She pulled Ryland Grace into a hug as if they’d known each other their entire lives, not seeming to care in the least about the feathery appendages in her way. They wrapped around her involuntarily as Ryland awkwardly patted her back.
“That’s very… uh, dark…” he replied awkwardly, looking lost.
“Is Russian,” Ilyukhina corrected him cheerfully. Then she leaned further into one of the wings cradling her. “Fuck, these are so soft. Is there like, product or something to put in? Asking for when mine come, which they definitely will at some point. Because I’m awesome.”
“That’s not scientifically sound reasoning, and we have no indication that they will, now that the project is essentially a group effort,” a black man in a yellow flight suit corrected. Ryland turned to look at him.
“Dr. Martin DuBois, primary scientist. Dr. Shapiro is my secondary,” he declared.
“Well thank Newton for that. We’re not shooting a woman who has discovered three enzymes while still in grad school into space,” he replied, then looked mortified as his brain caught up to his mouth. Had he really essentially told one of the astronauts volunteering to die for earth ‘hey, glad it’s you dying!”
Luckily, the man did not seem offended. “I am of the same opinion,” he replied, a genuine smile taking over his face. “She’s just brilliant, isn’t she?”
“I mean, obviously. She’s on the Nobel-track!” he replied.
“If we’re being fair, so are you, I’d wager,” Annie cut in, her face burning with the praise. And maybe some other parts of her as well, because oh G-d were these men both gorgeous.
“No way,” Dr. Grace waved her off modestly. “I just got lucky. So, you guys wanna see a demonstration?”
__________
Yao Li-Jie was trying to figure out what to make of the Director and first officer of the project. The director seemed highly competent and very stoic in a way reminiscent of only the finest military leaders that he’d served under in the past. The first officer was… something else entirely.
He spoke to them like schoolchildren, for one. It was such a contrast to the majestic figure that he cut with the wings and his muscular form that it startled him into asking, in Mandarin, why that was the case. The director only told him, in the same language, that he’d ‘get used to it.’
He didn’t particularly care, one way or the other, whether he got used to anything on board the Gansu, as long as he did his duty to the best of his ability. Unlike Engineer Ilyukhina, he didn’t particularly care whether he got his own pair of wings or not. The ones on his flight suit were enough for him, and all secondary to ensuring that his young adult daughter had a bright future ahead of her, and that his wife had a safe, warm place in which to spend her remaining years, even if it meant spending them without him. Neither of them were particularly happy with his decision, but he knew his duty, both professional and personal. He had the skills, he had the genes, and therefore he would do what he must. Especially since his sacrifice would ensure that his family would be well-taken care of even when the crisis reached its worst while the world waited for the return of any solution they might find out there.
The twinkling starlight in the corner of his eyes drew his attention to the presence of Dr. Grace beside him.
“I just wanted to thank you all for the sacrifice that you’re making, Commander Yao. I could never do it. I don’t have the bravery gene that you all do.”
Caught off-guard, Yao’s reply was more honest and personal than he would have otherwise given. “It’s not a gene. It’s just about finding someone to be brave for.”
Dr. Grace’s expression was dubious but thoughtful as they continued their tour of the ship.
________
“I really don’t think it’s a good idea, Ilyukhina,” Grace sighed as the engineer, who’d apparently decided he was her new best friend, continued to pester him. “I mean, you’re kind of one of the most important people on Earth right now. What if I drop you in the ocean or something?”
“So?” She shrugged. “I can swim. Is not problem. I want to go flying. And look at muscles.” She squeezed his bicep. “You are strong enough that you will not drop me.”
“Stratt’s a better flier. You should probably ask her if you’re really set on this,” Grace argued.
“Trust me, if I thought she could lift me, I would. She’s very hot, and I am lesbian. But she is smaller than me. Would not work. With you, would work. And I am dying for Earth, so you have to say yes.”
“Wow uh… you’re really not afraid to play that card, are you?” Grace replied, taken aback.
“Not playing cards. Flying. Would crush you at poker,” the Russian responded cheerfully. “Can show you tonight, after flying!”
“It’s just an expression,” Grace huffed, already feeling new gray hairs forming. Ilyukhina could give his students a run for their money in the art of gremlin-ery.
“English expressions stupid. Now, up up up!” She launched herself at him, and he barely caught her in his arms in time, needing to flap his wings frantically to keep them both upright.
“Is there any way out of this?” he asked Carl, who grimly shook his head no.
Grace sighed and started propelling them both upwards.
_____
Flying with the first officer was super cool, even if he wouldn’t take them very high and gave her a lecture on how at higher altitudes, a water landing isn’t actually going to save you from injury or death, bla bla bla. She’d convince him later. It was fine for the first day.
“Thank you, Gracie!” She exclaimed, delighted, as they landed back on deck. “You are very good pilot! I had great fun! I have to go do astronaut works now, goodbye!” She gave him a side hug before scurrying off.
________
“You’re hungrier than usual tonight,” Stratt remarked later in her office as they shared dinner while going over the day’s reports.
“A certain Russian made me take her flying. It was an insane workout,” Grace replied around a mouthful of pasta. “I think she’s going to make me do it again, too. Unless you could ban her from asking?” He turned pleading blue eyes to her.
“I don’t think she would listen,” Stratt replied. “She’s incredible at her job, but when I checked her references, they all begged me to take her off their hands. She’s definitely a loose cannon. I would have preferred her as the secondary, but her work speaks for itself. Secondary Engineer Miyaki, while much calmer and better at following orders, isn’t quite capable of her quality of work.”
“And you’re not worried about her listening to Commander Yao?” Grace asked, hopefully eyeing a meatball on her plate. She sighed and moved it to his.
“When it comes down to it, she’s the person to have in a crisis, and she understands the seriousness of what we’re doing. Yes, she once snuck into the Kremlin, but she also didn’t get caught sneaking into the Kremlin.”
“How do you even know about it, then?” Ryland asked her, twirling more spaghetti onto his fork.
“She showed me pictures. She was very excited about it.”
“That’s actually pretty legendary.”
“She was also able to patch a leak in the hull of a decommissioned Soviet-Era submarine using nothing but duct tape and a monkey wrench,” Stratt informed him.
“How? Wait, better question… why?”
“For extra credit, apparently. Her university’s engineering department had a lot of old machines to take apart and put back together. She happened to be the best at doing so.”
“Huh,” Ryland replied, unable to reply with anything else.
“She also seems to have taken a liking to you. So, good luck with that. Don’t let it interfere with your duties.”
The only other winged human on Earth merely sighed the sigh of the damned but resigned.