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It was a miracle Grace remembered as much as he did. Everything that happened on Earth he will never experience again, so as much as his last conscious moments hurt and prickled in all the wrong ways, he held onto them like a lifeline.
He knows from moving state to state as a kid (something he also remembered, what a concept!) that the difference bewteen an unfamiliar land and home was simple: time. In his Erid biodome, he had nothing but time. No longer on the edge of life-or-death situations, guaranteed a future, his best friend alive and well by his side. There couldn't have been any better ending to be honest.
That was part of the problem, Grace realized months into his stay. The Eridians made impressively quick headway getting the taumoeba to Threeworld, and Beetles would have brought Earth her salvation already, if things went to plan. Everything he did and could've done was out of his hands now. He just had to have faith. There it was — that satisfying conclusion to his story, the loose ends all tied up. Only, he still had the rest of his life to live out.
It was a long time, lending to a long adjustment period. Of course, the other thing he remembered from moving around so much was that no matter how good you have it, the adjustment period sucked the whole way. The Eridian engineers —bless them—tweaked his biodome endlessly until it was to his liking, never once complaining. He got to teach again, something he thought he'd never do. Most importantly though, he had Rocky and now Adrian as well, for forever.
That doesn't stop Grace from getting restless sometimes, or wistful, or sad, or any number of confusing emotions he'd encourage students to regulate in a healthy way but never thought to try himself. You'd think he would do better, having spent 4 years cramped in a way smaller spaceship in considerably worse conditions, but he had been actively striving towards an end. And now…sure, he had nothing but time, but it started to feel like a detriment.
Some days, he thinks about the pleading wails that sounded weak even to his own ears, or his cheek smashed against the dirt. He can even recall the sensation of his heart trying to escape alongside him, pounding so hard as the final evidence he was still alive, breathing. How much it had hurt, how he reached out and no one reached back.
More often than not though, he would focus in on that rainbow in the stormy sky, watching over him, Baikonur, the Project itself, humanity. Not just the person pinned under it, who placed himself above the fate of billions. Not a fun thing to dwell on. That rainbow, the simple miracle of light refracting in water burned into his retinas. It was the only way he could be back on Earth again — in his mind.
So on days like today, he doesn't think of the memory like it was painful. Or the of the desperation that had painted the scene. It was the "afternoon" after his classes have ended, and he was doing laundry in his house. Rocky insisted the that biodome run on Earth's time for his sake, even though Grace had argued against it.
"I'm basically an honorary Eridian now! I'll manage. The time difference for you guys would be — "
And Rocky had promptly cut him off that day, in classic Rocky fashion. "Grace stupid, question? Need human sleep hours, need squishy human things." And he had scuttled off, making a long series of low trills that Grace recognizes as swear words he was not willing to translate.
As he's arm deep in a sink filled with soapy water, looking over the window at a digital sunset, he's grateful for the normalcy. He wasn't going admit it, because Rocky would not waste a moment telling Grace how he was always "right right right," but everything his best friend did ensured it would be easier. Easier to pretend, sometimes, that he was in his crappy San Fransisco apartment again.
What could be more normal and human than mind-numbingly repetitive household chores? Even those he began to treasure. Gosh, it was getting so bad. He aggressively scrubbed at his shirts, then plunged them up and down in the water for good measure, humming the whole time. If only they had washing machines on Erid—and the facade slips again at that thought. What was that cliche? Distance makes the heart grow fonder? Well didn't Grace know it.
Really, he wasn't sure what he missed most of all. Grace was certain it shifted on the day. Whatever aspect of life on Erid was the most immediately unbearable would hit him and his silly irrational mind would amplify that to Tau Ceti and back.
He was in the middle of wringing out his element of surprise shirt when he realized the color was off. Now, he wasn't the most observant, but he was sure the shirt was supposed to be a bright cheery red, not a sad blotchy pink. And holy moly, when did the fabric get so thin? He squinted at the crumpled shirt, and the realization slowly passes through him, settling into his limbs like the it had always been true.
Grace really misses color.
There was never much of it on the Hail Mary. She was the sleek white of technological innovation, and while beautiful in its own way, unfortunately meant it was boring to look at day after day for years on end. Something something, practicality over the long term well-being of people who never meant to last into said long term.
From the precious little times he took field trips outside of the biodome, he saw that the surface of Erid was much the same. Things just don't have color when there's no light; it was basic physics. Not that it mattered to the Eridians. All he has are his belongings and his silly science shirts, and they're fading.
This shouldn't be the thing that breaks him after, well, everything else, but smaller things got under his skin easier now. Again, something about not having to stress about an end goal. He doesn't know how long he was frozen in place, hands covered in suds and gripping the sink, but he must've zoned out at some point considering how startled he was at the knock.
A deep chord he immediately recognizes as Adrian's voice saying his name rang muffled from outside. He drops the shirt and rushes towards the door, narrowly avoiding tripping over his own feet in the process. He had to twist the knob a couple of times to get it to open, hands still slippery with soap.
"Um, hi Adrian." Grace does a small wave with his free hand, the other still clutching the now-soapy doorknob.
"Hello Grace. Rocky ask if Grace busy right now." They spoke in a distinct and slow way, allowing Grace to pick up each note's meaning without his translator. "We want to —" They shifted their carapace, like they were being interrupted by a new train of thought. "Grace is okay, question?"
"Grace Grace Grace!" Before he could reply, or even begin to think of how to answer that one, a very enthusiastic Rocky bounds up the steps right behind Adrian. "Rocky and Adrian have plan! In one Earth hour, we — Grace is okay, question?"
"Rocky-love, I just asked that."
Of course they both read him like a freaking book. Grace hypothesizes that his disheveled appearance and the soap on the door probably had something to do with that. He almost laughs at that.
"Guys, I'm fine." He held up his hands in a hopefully placating gesture. "It's nothing really, I'm just —
"Thinking about Earth thing." Rocky supplied without missing a beat.
Darn it, Rocky! He's too good at this. Grace had no choice but to concede.
"Listen pal, you're right. I was thinking about it and I kind of just — well, I got caught up in it."
"Why not ask Rocky Adrian for help?"
How the heck was he meant to explain the importance of color to a species that can't percieve it?
"I was just doing the laundry when I noticed, you know how I talked about things having color, and how there's not a lot of it here?" He rambled uselessly.
Adrian quietly tapped the ground, questioning.
Right. Him and Rocky had plenty of time to talk about the difference between human and eridian senses on the journey to Erid, but that was only scratching the surface. And Adrian was not all caught up.
"For humans, color is like…an additional layer of information on top of an object. It's like if I could look at something and had the ability see into it's past or something. Extra info." Not a perfect analogy, but it works well enough. As he always made sure to parrot to his students, "All models are wrong, but some models are helpful!" He felt himself start to slip into teacher mode there.
"It's..whats the word? Yes, stimulation!" He snapped his fingers, then continued on, "Since humans are so used to seeing color on everything, when you take away the color, we get bored or sad or unsettled. It's a powerful thing."
Adrian hummed, taking in every word. Grace took it as a sign to steamroll on.
"Hey Rock, do you remember when I told you about rainbows? Like the one on the Blip-A?"
"Of course Rocky remember, Rocky can't forget." He gives Grace a playful nudge. "Read about it more on portable thinking machine."
"Right, of course. That was rhetorical." Grace nudges Rocky right back, now turning to Adrian. "Rainbows are so special to humans because not only do they have all the colors of the visible light spectrum arranged in these bands, which is really satisfying to see by the way, they also appear after rainstorms as kind of something to look forward to."
His voice catches at the last part. If he was better with his words, he could've said something poetic about the way his last Earth memory featured one so prominently. The metaphor felt almost too heavy-handed. Grace begins to adjust his glasses just to have a fidget in the expectant silence, forgetting that his hands were still covered in soap. Fudge and double fudge. It was getting in his eye.
After a moment —"What is that word, question? Did not understand."
"Grace talk whole time, didn't think to define word for Adrian?" Rocky chided in mock offense. "Bad Grace."
"Sorry, sorry, I'll show you a picture in a sec. I just need to get my laptop." Silly, squishy human brains. Grace sighed and put his head in his hands, accidentally smearing even more soap in his eye. He blinked rapidly to clear the welling tears.
"Wait, Grace stop. Rocky idea time. GRACE! STOP LEAKING!"
"Alright, alright!" Grace laughed, but the tears kept coming. Stupid soap. "Get the computer, and we can show Adrian." he managed between sniffles.
"No no no, Rocky have better idea. Adrian-love!"
Adrian made a chittering sound Grace couldn't quite recognize, and the two of them began to speak in quicker and quicker sounds, tones blending together in what Grace assumes is proper Eridian grammar. Something that he does not have an understanding of yet, translator or not.
After about a minute of back and forth, Rocky spun around and trotted off towards the biodome exit, shouting "Cancel original plan! See you in 17.24 hours, Earth units!" behind him as he went.
Adrian, with much more tact, dipped their carapace in a goodbye. "When Rocky has idea, Rocky will make happen." Their voice mellows out in fondness. "Don't worry, I will help . Think Grace will like surprise."
A surprise? As their silouettes grew smaller and smaller in the distance, Grace sank down on his front porch in an attempt to process…all that. How fascinating it was that his friends could always sense him as his lows and turn that around in as short of a time. Well, nothing to do except wait until tomorrow, he thought. And clean the darn soap off!
He stood up, knees creaking slightly under the doubled gravity, and went back inside. He returned to the neglected pile of clothes in the sink and finished washing up, and tried his best to stop overthinking the laundry.
Morning arrived slowly, with the first rays of the rising sun streaming through the curtains from behind the thick and constant fog. It was the peace that Grace had grown to accept, no strings attached. Except not so much this morning.
"GRACE WAKE UP!" Rocky pounded at the door. "I say wait 17.24 Earth hours so Grace can prepare, why Grace no prepare?"
Beyond that, Grace can vaguely make out what sounded like Adrian's laughter.
"'M coming, Rock. You're so impatient." He slurred as he gracelessly (hah) rolled out of bed, catching himself before he could fall on the floor, and pulled on his cardigan. "Armando, coffee?"
The robotic arm whirred and dutifully handed him a freshly made cup. Just to his liking as always, and in record time as well! He took an appreciative sip.
"Hurry, you'll miss it!" Adrian urged from the other side of the door.
He slipped on his shoes, not paying attention as he walked out onto the porch and —
He almost dropped his coffee right then and there.
Across the water, lights of all colors illuminated the biodome. They moved in undulating lines across the screen walls, their reflection dancing all across the artificial ocean's water, melding into the rosy sunrise in the sky. He would go to describe the scene as otherworldly, but he remembered that he was literally sitting on an alien planet 16 light years away from Earth. Somehow, that reminder didn't bother him as much as it did yesterday.
"Grace like rainbow, question?" Rocky chirped, shifting from side to side. Grace was so distracted, so awed that he had forgotten — this wasn't just a natural occurence. This was something that had to be deliberately designed by skilled programmers and technicians under careful direction. Rocky and Adrian's surprise for him.
Like it? No, Grace was so blown away he couldn't even form the words. But for Rocky, he will try. "Love it, pal. Love it, love it, love it."
"Is like earth rainbow?" Adrian asked, voice tinged with hopefully curiousity.
"Well, I'd say it's more like the northern lights — the aurora borealis." A sight he never got to see, and probably never will. "Or, like, if that and a rainbow had a baby."
"Apology, we try. Engineers do their best."
"No Adri, that's not what I meant! I don't care that it doesn't look exactly like a earth rainbow." The words surprise him somewhat, but they still rang true. He gives Adrian a small pat on their xenonite suit.
The difference between this and a rainbow was large enough that he couldn't exactly squint and pretend and retreat into his own head. It was one of the many almost-correct things about his new home, like the pebbly beach or the water temperature or the permanent fog. The kaleidoscopic light show twisted a familiar phenomenon he treasured in a way that was objectively off, but it wasn't uncanny. It didn't feel lacking, like it was trying to make up something.
It blew his future wide open.
Hours had been poured into this simple display, by none other than Rocky and Adrian. His Rocky and Adrian. So much effort for to create beauty with something they had no way to sense, for the chance it would make his day. Kindness for the sake of kindness. Creation for the sake of creating. Grace saw it with overwhelming clarity now, something he knew to be true but had to come around to accept.
Nothing would ever be the same again, but change brought him this. He was in no way the same person he was years ago and years away. That person he left behind, and while he mourned for that version of himself, he was glad to see how far he had come.
This rainbow was all colored lights and imitation, nothing like the organicness of light-scattering droplets. But that further drove home how the design was all intentional. An equivalent would be like if some sort of higher power set the laws of the universe just right for him alone to witness everything. Grace didn't really believe in things like that, not like Eva did, but in moments like these he got close.
He didn't know how his eyes remained completely dry throughout it all, but he was glad for it. The "rainbow" would've been way harder to enjoy through the blur of tears.
"It's beautiful. Thank you." Grace breathed. "For everything."
As the shifting colors continued their dance and reflected in his eyes, Grace found himself seeing his beloved Red 40 loaded Twizzlers in the crimsons, his left-behind raincoat in the yellows, the lush vegetation of earth's lifeblood in the greens. The markered scribblings that carried the hopes of schoolchildren in the pinks and purples. Earth and Erid, melding into one.
These are things Grace will never see again — He understood sacrifice well enough by now. And Grace can accept that. He can see, because it's right before him, that if he wasn't exactly where he was in the moment…he might've never known. All that beauty and the choices that led to it, and he might've never known.
He stretches his arms out, draping one over Rocky and the other over Adrian. He pulled them just a little bit closer. Cozy. He was happy, happy, happy that he did get to know. That he got to his rainbow ending and the vivid life he's even more excited to live beyond that.
He knows logically that there will be more hard days ahead, some worse than others. This simulation wouldn't always be enough to fill the void. But he knows, knows beyond doubt, in an unshakeable way tethered to his very core that he made the right choice to turn around. The two eridians by his side and the lights that bathed them in their glow and their love, so much love, was proof enough. This was his everything.
