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“Explain!”
Eva blinked up at the man standing in her office doorway for just a second in shock. It was late enough that she was probably one of the only people still in the building, she hadn’t expected any interruptions, though she supposed it would be one like this at this hour. She was not surprised that he’d kicked the door in, not that he was brandishing a weapon, both of those things had happened numerous times before, but his face. That was what had caught her breath in her throat and frozen her still.
God above, it was like staring at a ghost.
Not completely, he was the same in the face but his hair was darker, shorter, there were no glasses. He had scars and the tell of a nose that had been broken a few times, and yet… those eyes were the same. More than anything else, those eyes…
“Explain!” He repeated, “What the hell happened to my brother?”
Brother.
“You’re supposed to be dead.” She replied, as the pieces clicked into place. This was Grace’s brother, Courtland, who had died in prison long ago. Or at least, that was what his file had stated, what Grace had believed. Courtland, not Colton, there were too many differences for this man to be Grace’s identical twin. Of course, Grace’s twin was not currently in a position to march into her office, but then, neither was the ghost who stood before her. Yet here he was.
“He was a scientist, a teacher, not an astronaut. He has to think everything through, he doesn’t leap without looking, how the hell did he end up on that ship?”
For just a moment, staring at those oh so familiar eyes, she nearly told him everything. Nearly admitted it all to the ghost of a man no longer by her side, but she could not do that to her friend. She had promised he would be remembered for his bravery, and she would not come undone here.
“There was an explosion, we lost our science team, but we could not delay the launch. There was just no time. Dr Grace understood the situation, he’s the world’s leading expert on astrophage, he’s attended every meeting, he knew the ship and it’s equipment inside and out. He was the only option we had left.”
“Only op… he’s a teacher, he’s supposed to be safe in a classroom, not dying in fucking space!”
“He was my second in command for the last four years, he knows more about this mission than anyone in the world besides me, he is highly skilled, and when the time came, he volunteered. He chose to give up his future so the rest of us could have one.”
She expected the man to yell again, to claim that wasn’t right, to rightly call out the lie. To somehow know what she’d done and see the blood dripping from her hands. She expected the cacophony of a gunshot and the pain that would follow. She didn’t expect his shoulders to slump like all the energy had been pulled from him. She didn’t expect him to fall to his knees, the gun slipping from his hand. A marionette cut from it’s strings.
“Oh Ry.”
There was something hauntingly hollow to his voice, something she’d never once heard in Grace’s. Even from here she could see the shine of tears in his eyes, the shake of his shoulders. Whatever anger had carried him to her office had vanished and the man it left behind seemed more weary than could be put into words.
She rounded her desk and crouched next to him, gently resting a hand on his shoulder. It trembled below her, but he didn’t shake her off, didn’t scream at her not to touch him, disgusted by the part she’d played in his brother’s doom. He shuddered with the weight of his grief, bent double where he knelt, hands shaking, but he did not turn it on her.
Tears hit the carpet below.
“I said those words to him.”
“What?”
“I put that idea in his head, I said those words to him. When our father, when he… I knew they’d send me to prison for it, but I didn’t care if it meant Ry and Colt would be able to live the rest of their lives happily. If nothing had changed they wouldn’t have ever seen 18, they probably wouldn’t have made it to the end of that day, and they deserved so much more than that so I… I gave up my future so they could have a chance. I never wanted either of them to emulate me.”
Her stomach churned.
Grace had told her, in confidence, the story of his childhood. The loss of his brothers, the way everything had been torn apart and never quite put back together again. His eldest brother saving his life, foster parents that never let him visit the prison and the riot that took his life shortly before Grace turned 18. She’d looked into the case enough to know the whole damn thing had been a miscarriage of justice, that it never should have happened. Then a broken system had ripped him from his twin too young, and even after reuniting, things between them had been changed. It was always astounding how one night could change things so drastically, so permanently. Had he used those words when he told her that story, was that why she’d used them now, plucked them from that memory? Or had it all been chance that she’d stumbled across the exact words needed to convince his brother of the lie.
And Courtland was convinced.
“I thought he was safe. I got complacent, he taught himself to stop leaping without looking, he got the job at the school, I stopped checking in as much, especially after I left the CIA, I thought they were safe. He was safe. I didn’t… ”
Left the CIA, she mused. Combined with his faked death, and she could put the pieces together fairly quickly on what had happened there. He’d been offered the chance to commute his sentence in order to do what he’d probably been told was some good, and being a good person in a terrible situation, he’d taken them up on it. At the cost of never seeing his brother’s again. She wondered if there was a way to extract him from that now, if he’d gone rogue to come here and confront her, or if he’d been sent, and this was just a personal questioning before she was taken to never be seen again, or simply taken out.
“I don’t understand,” he settled on, pulling her from her musing, ”why did it have to be him?”
“He trained with the astronauts, tested their equipment, and knew more than anyone else on this planet about Astrophage. His decision was not one we ever planned for him to have to make, and he was brave to…”
“I know he was brave,” the man hissed, “you think I don’t know that. He was always willing to put himself in harms way for the people he loved. For me, for Colt, for his students. And his impulsive decisions usually screwed him over but when he had the time to think things through he was the bravest kid I knew. He was just stuck in his own head, always sabotaged himself, but if you let him sleep on an idea or a decision, he’d always… he was…”
“I know.”
Would he have chosen to go, if they had more time?
Yes.
He would have. She knew that as firmly as she’d truly believed he’d agree to go when she’d first informed him, even though it had been foolish then because she knew him. And she knew he needed more than three hours to make that choice, but it had been all they had. He would have chosen to go if they’d had 12 or 24, if she could have afforded to do it another way. His terror had said no, and there had been no time for that to subside so he could make the choice himself, and she had made it for him.
She hoped he hated her.
She hoped he cursed her name when those memories returned, that bitter, angry, biting messages were included in his logs, every word she deserved but would never hear. There was nobody to scream them at her, only those who had been complicit, and those who could never know. It was selfish, she should hope that those memories never fully came back, that he completed the mission and passed peacefully under the impression that he had been given the time to make that choice, that he had joined his crew without hesitation. It was the kindest outcome, it was the one she should hope for, and yet she needed his anger, even if it took 26 years to arrive.
Deep down, she feared he would understand her instead.
He’d been better at reading her than anyone she’d ever known, at understanding her thoughts and her processes. He was happy to call her out or back her up, to work with her in silence or provide the information she needed, to be run ragged in their mission. She had never been deaf to whispers, the rumours that circulated, how people saw her. They called her cold or unfeeling or ruthless, the heartless robot with a mission to complete. Not Grace, he’d seen beneath, seen just how deeply she cared for the earth and it’s people, just how much she feared what was coming, just how desperate she was under the mask she had to hold in place. Why she made the choices she did, even when he was not certain he could make them himself, and he had seen her in the quiet moments where the weight of it all got too heavy, and had silently taken some of it so she did not have to carry it alone. He understood her. He understood her, and he would recover his memories, see though every lie she said that day in her office, and he would forgive her. God knew she did not deserve it.
She would never deserve his forgiveness, and yet she was certain if she lived to see the Beetles return, she would get it.
It haunted her dreams more than his screams.
Every night his lifeless body floated in orbit of Tau Ceti, in a defunct ship with the mission complete. Sometimes it succeeded, sometimes it failed, but by the time her dream started, it was over and they were gone. Floating and lifeless and gone. And then his eyes would snap open and he reach out and grasp her hand and tell her he understood why she did it, that he understood her, that he forgave her, and every night she would wake up screaming.
“I called him an idiot the last time I saw him, he wanted to give up his dream college so he could stay close to the prison, so he could visit. I told him I’d chosen to give up my future so he could have his and that he could not throw it away for me, I didn’t know it would be our last interaction, I would have been so much kinder, I would have said so much more, how proud I was of him, how much I loved him, I…”
He paused, and for a moment she had the urge to fill the silence.
‘I called him a coward,’ she wanted to admit, ‘told him I didn’t respect him, that I only kept him around to be a backup, that he was not my friend, and every word of it was a lie.’
She could not say it. She could not risk the damn opening, because it would never close again, and despite how similar he sounded and looked, he was not Grace. He was not her friend, they did not share the bond this project had forged, and he would not understand her.
“I always thought I’d go first, the twins would live long and happy lives, they already thought I was dead, they’d already mourned and moved forwards, it would be no loss to them, I never… I never thought I’d be the one still here. I could have said goodbye, I would have, I just… didn’t know I’d need to.”
“I am sorry. If we’d known, we would have given you the same opportunity to say goodbye as the other astronauts.”
She hated lying, and yet it seemed to be all she’d done since that explosion. Lying to the world about Grace’s choice, lying to Grace about their friendship and the nature of his character to put a wall between them that hadn’t lessened the pain or made it easier at all, and now to his brother.
How could they have had a moment to say goodbye, when he’d been sent against his will. She was not so foolish as to think this man couldn’t have fought his way out of this base with his brother if he’d had the chance, he’d managed to get in undetected after all. No, there had never been an opportunity for Grace to say goodbye, but then, there hadn’t been anyone to say goodbye to. Courtland had been dead for 20 years, and Colton had been in a coma since his accident a month before the launch. It had been painfully convenient, and she could barely stomach the guilt at her relief that he wouldn’t be awake to question it. At the excuse it gave them.
Grace had taken a week to sit by his side, it had been all they could afford so close to the launch. She’d cleared his schedule after for another week so he could see his twin again afterwards, taken on extra meetings herself to accommodate for it, knowing he’d take his work laptop with him anyway. She’d planned for more once his brother woke up, but none of that mattered now. It was after the launch, but he couldn’t visit his twin, he wouldn’t be able to visit after he woke, because he was gone.
There had never been an opportunity for him to say goodbye, she’d made that choice for him. Taken that choice from him.
Time had taken that choice from them all.
Anger swelled in her at the brutal injustice of it all, and the things they’d been forced to do, the hand they’d been dealt. The sun was dying, so many people were going to die, there had been no other option, but that did not change the tears that slipped down her cheeks when she was alone and the thoughts lingered for too long.
“He was my closest friend,” she admitted as she offered him a hand to stand, “He should be here by my side, it was never supposed to be him, and I wish things had been different. I wish there had been a way for him to stay.”
Stay here on Earth, stay here by her side. He should have been in the control room with her for the launch, he should have been in the strategy meetings looking at the Taskforce’s next steps in protecting Earth from the changes coming, he should have been walking in step with her like always, but he wasn’t. One single, tiny, stupid measuring mistake, and he was bound for the stars, never to return. It wasn’t fair.
It felt almost targeted, if the universe were cruel enough to do such a thing. She’d kept her walls up high so she could manage this crisis, do the things that needed to be done, and she’d known how it would end. When the panic faded and they looked for someone to blame, it wouldn’t matter what legal powers she’d been given, she’d bombed the antarctic, she’d paved over the Sahara, she’d sent three astronauts to die and they would make her face it. She’d done it, because it had to be done, and kept her personal feeling out of it. Even as the sea level rise from Antarctica’s ice had drowned her hometown in the Netherlands, and so much more damage besides, she’d done what needed to be done and she’d done it knowing it would land her in a cell or worse. She hadn’t been able to afford to let anyone see how much it hurt, or she might not have been able to do it at all. Nobody could see her hesitation, nobody but Grace.
He’d brushed right past her walls. He’d been the shoulder to lean on, answering not only her scientific questions, but the moral ones. Carrying a share of the load even though he didn’t have to, standing by her side and pushing back and a terrifying ease had come from it.
She should have known she’d have to sacrifice him too in the end.
She’d given her freedom, her home, her future, why would she have been allowed to keep him?
“There was really no other choice?”
“Half the world’s population will be dead in 30 years,” she stated, blinking back tears she hadn’t expected to arise, “he was the only person left with the training, it had to be him.”
“And if he had stayed, he’d be here?”
He scanned around the office properly, taking it in. She’d kept it basic, but there was a schematic of the Hail Mary on the wall, the crew photos below it. Another one of Grace and herself, side by side, had appeared at some point. She wasn’t sure where it had come from, or who’d taken it, but she’d never seen fit to remove it. The unused plaque for his office door here in this building rested against the wall below the schematic, it had been made in advance, and she had no idea what to do with it now. Well, she knew it had no place now but the bin, but she could not bring herself to throw a piece of him away. Beyond that, just paperwork, stacks and stacks of things that needed to be done to keep as much of the population alive as possible.
“The office next to mine, though he only ever wanted to go back to the school, I’ve never seen someone so content with their own life, and yet he stayed. For his students, for his family, he chose the project and the brutal hours and he stood by my side.” Her voice turned quiet, “I’m not sure I ever deserved him.”
She wasn’t sure why she was admiring it here, now, but she hadn’t. Not him, nor his support. He should have left after his first discoveries, gone back to his happy, safe life teaching and stayed far from her, but he’d slept on it and stormed back into her office determined to do more, and unknowingly sealed his fate.
If she were a more fanciful person, she’d let herself imagine he was simply back in his classroom now. Alas, she was not that person, and he was in a coma, soaring through the stars, never to grace a classroom again.
“I never did,” he answered, blinking back his own tears, “I was always tainted by our father, but the twins were so good, so brilliant. They deserved better than they ever got.”
“He spoke of you, he did not speak of family often, but when he did he spoke of you. His twin, and the brother who raised him, cared for him, and shaped him into the man he is today. He valued you deeply, you inspired him to keep going. Never doubt that.”
He flinched, but she didn’t regret telling him this truth amongst all the lies. His brother had loved and valued him, and she wanted him to know that. He’d never hear it from his brother, but he could hear it from her.
“I should go.” He deflected, stepping towards the door, “I don’t… I only wanted answers.”
“Go where?”
“What?”
“I owe Dr Grace everything, the least I can do is protect his family. For as long as I am valuable to the world, I will do everything in my power to look after you. It’s why we’ve been covering Colton’s medical bills, since his fall.”
For a moment he blinked at her, and she wondered how long it had been since he’d had anyone on his side.
“I… I have somewhere safe.”
“You didn’t leave the CIA on the best terms, I gather?”
“No, not quite.”
“You do not have to trust me, you barely know me, but I owe your brother everything.” She handed him one of her business cards, with her personal number scrawled onto it. Very few people had that number, she could count them on both hands. Grace had been one, now his brother was another.
“What’s this?”
“If you need help.”
“Thank you.”
She did not bother to call security as he slipped back out of the office and she started to pack up to go home. She had no doubt he’d get out of the compound on his own just fine, he’d made it in easily. Tomorrow she’d probably need to have a talk with them about upgrades, in case the next person was less friendly, but tonight she was done. The exhaustion of the last four years seemed to have finally caught up in that one fraught conversation.
Tomorrow the weight of the world could settle back on her shoulders yet again.
Tonight, she would get some rest.