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It seemed ridiculous that I was ever concerned about personal space with Rocky. That initial worry that he’d taken up too much of my ship or hovered too close to me too often was so long ago now - months ago - and I was simply not that person anymore. As soon as all his gear was loaded up in my ship and we set a course for Erid, we were both drawn together like magnets on either side of the Xenonite barrier, eliminating as much space between us as we possibly could.
I sat down and immediately leaned into the smooth surface, and he rested his carapace against it with a gentle thud. We just sat there for many long minutes without saying a thing. Eventually he put one of his hands up to the xenonite and tapped gently three times, and I raised my fingers to tap out the same on my own side. Our fingers lingered against the surface afterwards for no other reason than our mutual desire to be close.
I was overwhelmed by the events of the past few months and this was the first calm moment. And this was what I wanted, apparently. Closeness with the being I went through most of it with, gave up my future on Earth for…
“This has been… a lot,” I said. “I’m probably more tired than I’ve ever been in my life. That I can remember, anyway. I can remember most things now, I think. I’m just… really glad you’re here. That you’re alright.”
I ramble when I’m stressed out. Rocky knew this. I hoped my big, human emotions didn't weigh him down after all we’d just been through. He’d been through a lot of trauma, too.
“Understand,” Rocky trilled. “Same for Rocky.”
I initiated a second round of tapping between us and smiled. The proximity alone was comforting in a way I’d never felt before. I was sad about never seeing Earth again, sure. But I was also incredibly relieved to have Rocky back in my life. I could sit next to him like this for hours and not get bored. The fact that this was my first instinct when I finally had a calm moment…
Is this what psychologists refer to as a ‘trauma bond?’ I wondered. I mean, we’d been through a trauma and bonded over it. That makes sense, right? Maybe not. Maybe that’s what people develop with their captors or abusers, which wasn’t the case here.
But isn’t that Stockholm syndrome? Is trauma bonding and Stockholm Syndrome the same thing? Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t apply.
Imprinting, maybe. But that wasn’t exactly it either.
Pack bonding? Co-dependence?
Whatever. Psychology wasn’t my field. I’d taken some classes in undergrad to fulfill general ed requirements, and I’d briefly seen a psychologist when I thought I had anxiety (turns out it was undiagnosed ADHD! What a surprise that was halfway through grad school). All that, and a few random articles I’d read over the years was about the extent of my knowledge of the subject. I was grasping at definitions in a desperate hope to understand the maelstrom of emotions churning away inside me as I sought out closeness with my alien best friend.
“Rocky will take care of Grace,” Rocky chirped.
My breath caught in my throat at that - a sound Rocky no doubt heard. I was on a razors edge as far emotions go, and it wouldn’t take me much to spiral off into a crying session.
“When we get to Erid,” Rocky continued. “Grace can live happy.”
“In orbit around Erid?” I asked, my fingers running gently back and forth over the xenonite barrier where our fingers still met.
“Maybe, but maybe on surface.”
“Your gravity is gonna crush me.”
“No no. Rocky fix.” He tapped again and I shut my eyes, resting more against the barrier with my weight. The physical and emotional exhaustion were overwhelming. “Grace sleep. Rocky watch.”
I hadn’t wanted to think beyond the journey much. The most thought I gave it was that I’d die circling Erid, knowing that Rocky made it home and that his planet was saved. Starvation would be the most likely cause of death, unless I figured something out real soon. Between the remaining meals and coma slurry, I could make it maybe 3 years. Supplementing that with the meager fresh fruits and vegetables growing in the lab could extend that a couple months if I timed their growth right. Still not quite enough time.
I had ideas and experiments running to solve that problem, but I didn’t want to dwell on it. There was a high chance they’d fail. There was a high chance I was gonna die before we even made it to Erid.
I let out a small breath. Part of me wanted to continue asking questions, figure out the science behind how a human could survive permanently on a planet with such a high g-force. But we had years to figure that out. Just then all I wanted was to be close to Rocky and appreciate his very existence. And maybe… sleep. He did tell me to sleep after all. And I was bone deep exhausted.
Maybe this was a rapid decrease in adrenaline - the sudden feeling of not being on edge like I had been for the past few months. There. Biochemistry. That was a field I obviously knew. My brain had suddenly stopped producing excessive adrenaline and cortisol, and maybe started making some oxytocin instead. And I was feeling attached and a little bit needy for companionship as a result. As long as this didn’t escalate into an adrenal crisis, it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
I folded up my sweatshirt and laid on the floor right then and there. I fell rapidly asleep before my head even met my makeshift pillow.
—
I’d been working on gene splicing a strawberry with Taumoeba for several weeks - even before Rocky and I had reunited and begun our long journey to Erid. I knew I didn’t have enough nutritious food to make the journey without some dire consequences, but I had plenty of Taumoeba, a fully stocked lab (albeit with a lot of broken equipment), some fresh fruits and vegetables growing in said lab, and a lot of determination. I’d never done gene splicing before, but I’d done a lot of things I’d never done before, so it was worth a shot. If this worked, I’d try it with the tomatoes, spinach, and carrots. That was a huge chunk of human nutrients just across those four plants. It wasn’t everything, but it was a good start.
I had plenty of long discussions with Dr Shapiro back on earth about her streamlined method of gene splicing. In fact, if it weren’t for her and her method, this lab wouldn’t have enough equipment to do what I needed it to do. If I believed in fate (and heck, at this point I probably should), I’d like to think she was put in my path specifically for this bit of knowledge. It’s unfortunate that crossing my path ended with her death. Truly tragic what happened to her. Truly tragic what was happening to everything back home right now, actually. We lived in an era of tragedy.
Rocky was on the other side of his xenonite barrier working on something. I couldn’t tell what from this angle, but I paused my own work to watch him diligently weaving xenonite together into something that would no doubt be amazing (amaze amaze amaze). The way he moved his manipulators and effortlessly created something incredible from nothing never failed to attract my attention. It was captivating.
I was, quite simply, smitten.
I didn’t need to look that one up. I knew I had a strong sense of affection toward Rocky - that his humor, determination, and technical ability had me completely enthralled. I could watch him all day if I didn’t have other things to do. This was more than just a bond formed under great duress. I liked him as an individual. I’d have liked him without the extreme circumstances we met under.
“What are you working on?” I asked.
“Xenonite suit.”
“Sick of the ball?”
“Ball is very limiting. Cannot help with many tasks where hands are required. Cannot take care of Grace properly.”
I raised my eyebrow at that.
“Why do you think I need to be taken care of?” I abandoned my project and sank down on the floor next to the xenonite barrier yet again. So what if I was needy. “My piloting isn’t that bad anymore. And Armando takes care of all my medical needs. I think we got it mostly covered.”
Sure, the incident where I passed out from excessive g-force and Rocky had to enter my atmosphere to save the day was evidence enough that this object could be useful. It was silly of me to brush it off. But still, I worried about the limited amount of xenonite we had on board. There were more important things to work on, surely. This was going to be a long journey. Issues would come up.
“Grace needs hugs.”
I stifled a laugh. It’s not funny. He’s right. I’d been largely ignoring that, but the way I kept finding myself plastered up against the barrier in my free time had made that need obvious, I supposed. But he said it so matter-of-fact and without any judgement and it took me off guard. I do need hugs, darn it. But how could he tell?
“How’d you come to that conclusion?”
“Grace cries much. Cries in sleep. Cries at rest.”
“Yeah, yeah I do a lot of crying. I get it.” I wasn’t this tearful on earth I don’t think, but we had been through a lot. I deserved a few good cries.
“Grace always reaching for Rocky. But Rocky same. Always reach for Grace. Always always. This help.”
“Is that not a misuse of valuable xenonite?”
“No no no. Can repurpose other objects no longer need. And suit can be used for many other things. Can help in control room. But hug is first inspiration, yes.”
Somehow, Rocky had a better read of my emotional state than I did. Funny how that shook out. But, even stranger, the reverse was also true. Rocky paused and clasped two of his free hands together in what I was beginning to recognize was anxiety. Incredible that my own psychology was confusing me, but I could read his anxiety loud and clear. Was my body language as loud to him as his was to me?
Man, we can never play Poker together. We’d spot each others tells immediately.
“Grace gave everything for Rocky and Erid. Rocky want to show appreciation. Human Thinking Machine says hugs can help humans when sad. Read much about hugs. Grace needs. Rocky needs, too.”
Tears welled in my eyes and I couldn’t hold back. I cried. Again. I’m not proud of how easy it was to trigger crying at this point in my life, but I felt incredibly… loved. Just loved plain and simple. His first act in his newfound free time was devoted to showing me that he appreciated me.
Maybe I’d been overthinking what words to use for our bond. ‘Love’ would work just fine. Why not? I didn’t have to define that type of love, or come up with reasons that I felt that way. We could just exist with this feeling that didn’t fit into a box.
“Good tears, bad tears, question?”
“Good tears,” I say.
“Good good good.”
Despite being totally engrossed in his suit project, he stopped and paced in front of the barrier for a moment before tapping against it to hear me.
“Strawberries help with bones?” Rocky chirped.
It took me a moment to reorient myself and remember what I’d been working on. I’d explained the basics to him already and he understood. Eridians had similar technology, so once we reached Erid, they could do even more gene splicing on my behalf. I’d begun setting aside some additional foods that I might struggle splicing so they could give it a go once we arrived.
“Ah, no. I’m mainly trying to get vitamin C from them. It helps protect my cells and heal wounds. Without it, all my old wounds will open and my teeth will fall out. Bad bad bad.” He echoed ‘bad bad bad’ back at me. “It’s not the best source, but they couldn’t fit an orange tree onboard so it’ll have to do.”
“Need calcium, vitamin D.” He’d really been using his computer to his advantage, it seemed.
“The lamps here in the lab provide some vitamin D,” I said, wondering what got him onto this tangent “What’s with your sudden interest in my bones?”
“Higher gravity on Erid will harm bones, make heart work harder, need more muscle mass. Must start fixing problems soon. Start with bones.”
I nodded in acknowledgement. It made sense. I wasn’t sure this would all work in the end - it’d be easier to just keep me on the Hail Mary, wouldn’t it? There were no quality long term studies about humans living in higher gravity to such an extent. It was mostly theoretical.
“Right. Start with bones,” I assured him. Maybe I could splice some cheese from one of the remaining meals I had or something. As soon as I perfected the strawberry, I’d move onto something calcium based.
—
The strawberry spliced with some of the Taumoeba better than others. I isolated the round cell that seemed to take to it and started breeding it. It’d probably be a couple of days until I had enough to taste test it. If it wasn’t too repulsive to keep down, I’d consider it a successful test.
(I’d begun rotating the strawberry plants and alternating which ones were producing fruit so I had a few fresh ones every week, but that would barely enough. It’d be good to have a backup. And maybe this could make the coma slurry not taste so horrible. I also started setting aside some seeds from all the plants so I could have a small garden on Erid, if we could figure out how to make it work. But those were thoughts for later.)
As promised to Rocky, I scraped some cells from the next few dairy products I came across in my meals - some mozzarella and Swiss - and had them set up to be part of my next gene splicing adventure. Before I could actually begin, however, I heard the air lock between our environments engage and it immediately had my interest.
I turned, expecting to see Rocky rolling up in his ball, but instead he was in a new form-fitting xenonite suit. I immediately dropped to my knees and stretched out my arms, inviting him into the promised hug he’d offered me.
“Holy heck!” I shouted as Rocky let loose a steady “Grace Grace Grace” as he skittered across the floor.
He was in my arms in seconds and I immediately - yep! - started crying again. Gosh, I’d become such an emotional mess since waking up on the Hail Mary, but who could blame me, really?
“Good tears,” I assured quickly, wrapping my arms around his carapace and sinking into the feeling of three of his arms wrapping steadily around me.
“Good good good,” he chirped.
I tipped backwards slightly so I was fully seated on the floor and wrapped my legs around him. He settled into me more fully, too. Two of his arms were wrapped around my torso, one was in my hair, and the other two kept him steady so that his full weight wasn’t dependent on me (he was enormously heavy, after all). I leaned my forehead against his carapace and took a deep breath.
He could probably hear everything in this big, leaky body from this angle. It must be disgust, as Rocky would say. To prevent my tears from falling on his suit, I turned my head and leaned my temple against him instead. At this angle, the tears would fall onto my own shoulder or chest, if anything. Though we were awfully close, so that was no guarantee.
The hand that was in my hair traced down my cheeks and then wiped away a few errant tears. The gesture was unexpected and my breath caught in my throat again.
“That must be pretty gross for you,” I managed to say through my crying jag.
“Disgust,” Rocky said. And yep, there it was. “But… want to.”
I reached up and took that same hand in mine and gave it a squeeze.
“I’m about to do something even more disgust,” I said, then brought his hand to my lips and gave it a very gentle kiss.
I don’t know where the urge came from, but it felt right. I hadn’t kissed anyone in the better part of a decade (even if almost half that time was spent in a coma). My affection needed an outlet and this was apparently it.
“Always so leaky,” he chirped, but there was affection in his voice. I would marvel at just how fluent in Eridian I’d become later.
Time was once again lost to me as we sat there wrapped up with each other. My tears did eventually subside and I was able to enjoy it without leaking everywhere, but I didn’t feel compelled to end the contact in the slightest. He didn’t seem compelled to do so either. He did, however, take the initiative to break the silence.
”You teach me how care for strawberries, vegetables. Can help now.”
”It’s okay, Rock. I can manage it.”
”Someday maybe can’t,” he said. The fear that I could possibly be incapacitated was very real for him. “And when arrive on Erid, will teach other Eridians of your food sources.”
I wasn’t going to cry again. I absolutely wasn’t. But the warm feeling in my chest blossomed into something all consuming and overwhelming. But overwhelming in a good way.
I was loved. Love love love. And maybe, just maybe, things were going to be okay.