Chapter Text
Mornings were utterly mundane now; he awoke to Mary switching into day mode and was usually met by Rocky right above him, or sometimes to his side.
Grace got up, brushed his teeth, ate something resembling breakfast and then crossed off a day on the calendar he and Rocky had made to count down how long til they arrived at Erid. They were roughly halfway through, which was a joy for Rocky. Recently, he had been talking about his mate Adrian far more and how he missed them so dearly. It made sense, of course. It’d been about 48 Earth Years now since Rocky was shipped off to the Tau-Ceti solar system.
Ryland Grace always knew that space was a vast expanse; hell, he wrote a whole dissertation based on this fact.
The fact that, out in space, in the universe, you could not predict what would happen next or what you would find. That’s partly why he was so convinced that there had to be other species who evolved without water entirely. Grace, deep down, was still very sure of this fact. So convinced that when he first got to have a proper conversation with Rocky, it was the first question that left his lips. Unfortunately for the scientist, Eridians did, in fact, require water in their likely evolutionary path and even use it now to power their movement through steam-piston-like mechanisms. It was, admittedly, very interesting, but also very disappointing. It did not take long, however, for Grace to get over it and throw himself into ensuring he properly recorded everything that Rocky said, transcribing it later in one of the many notebooks packed upon the Hail Mary. Sending it off with the Beatles was bittersweet, all his work gone. Sure, at the time he may have known he would see it again upon returning, but now he was on a straight course for Erid, and he really wanted to know all he could about their culture beforehand.
Rocky was relatively helpful, but he did demand Grace repay him with information about humans, which wasn’t a terrible trade-off, but it reminded him just how rusty some of his basic biology had gotten since his days in academia.
“How humans hunt, question?” Rocky tapped on his stone tablet.
Grace hummed, “Well, we don’t really hunt anymore. We put animals on farms, and hunting is more a ‘for fun’ activity. Back when we did hunt, though, it was done in groups, and we exhausted our prey by trailing behind them. It’s actually why we’re so leaky; sweat acts as a natural way to release heat and–”
“Humans do lots of things in groups,” Rocky remarked, ever so casually and of course it’d be casual because how was he meant to know those words would cause Grace to realise how alone he’d been for nearly 3 years. Which is not counting the years he spent in a coma and also not counting the years spent with very few to no friends on Earth.
It sank in like a needle to the neck.
“Well, uhm, yeah. Social interaction is pretty important to us.” Grace rubbed his neck in that oh-so-familiar spot he always looked for comfort in, despite it never working.
Rocky paused. “Grace sad?”
He shook his head in response, so hard you’d think he was trying to convince himself too. “All good, bud, don’t worry. Hit me with more questions.”
Rocky hesitated for a few seconds before he began to rattle off more questions, each expertly answered by Grace. The Eridian, eventually, reached a solid conclusion to his hypothesis.
“Social interaction necessary for survival.”
“Guess so,” Grace hummed in response.
Rocky seemed distraught by this, tapping one of his legs against the bottom of his ball. Grace couldn’t help but smile at the behaviour; it never failed to remind him of a rabbit thumping its back legs in protest.
“How Grace survive so long alone? Will Grace manage on Erid when no other humans around?” Rocky continued his thumping.
“I’ll be fine, Rocky,” he patted the ball in an attempt to reassure, “I’ve got you and Armando.”
The response he got was a very indignant chirp. “No, no, no, this is bad!” He seemed to be taking this very seriously, perhaps a little too much so.
“Rocky, I’ll be fine. Pinky promise,” he held out his pinkie finger to the ball before fully realising how redundant it was.
“What?” Rocky recoiled, tilting his carapace.
“Oh, it’s an Earth thing. You put your two pinkie fingers together and shake them to demonstrate a binding promise.”
Rocky thought for a second. “Humans have strange traditions.”
Grace chuckled, standing up and stretching. “You said it, pal.”
“Where Grace going?”
“Off to get some water, or maybe coffee, actually. I’ll decide when I get there.”
Rocky stayed behind to finish off his notes on humans. He was so excited to tell Adrian all he had learnt. After all, Adrian was a very accomplished biologist and would love to expand their knowledge, and Rocky would do anything to make his mate happy.
Deep in his soul, Ryland found himself with a simmering jealousy at the connection the two shared; no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, it was always so vaguely present. It left him feeling guilty; he should be happy for his friend. Happy that Rocky was back with his own species, yet he still felt those rare moments of envy for the connection he would likely never have again.
Sighing, he stopped in the doorway of the dormitory, shouting out to Armando.
“Coffee, please.” He sat on the edge of his bed, resisting the urge to fall back against it and nap until they were in Erid’s orbit. The coffee arrived in about 5 minutes; it was the perfect temperature, mostly just as a precaution for the crew not to receive burns from scalding coffee. He took a sip from the reusable cup.
“Perfect, as always. Thanks.” He gave the robot a thumbs down.
He leaned up against the wall, propping his legs up on the thin cushioning. If he closed his eyes and let his mind drift just right, the warmth of the coffee felt almost human in nature. A comforting sensation which eased the creeping loneliness in his soul.
Grace gasped as the coffee spilt over his chest, seeping into what was thankfully one of his darker shirts. The ship was blaring some sort of alarm when he finally got a grip on the world around him, talking about being stuck in an orbit? He stumbled to his feet, dashing to the cockpit and subsequently stumbling to the ground in front of the cupola window. Groaning, he stabilised himself on his elbows and glanced at the glass. There was an object surrounded by globs of a deep red substance. It seemed to be moving in tandem with the Hail Mary, following a sort of orbital pattern. He scrambled up, pressing against the glass with wide eyes.
From behind him, the familiar clank of xenonite sounded against the flooring. Rocky chirped in shock beneath him.
“Grace! Grace! Grace!” He rolled from side to side.
“I know, I know!” His voice was shaky as he stared out. What in all that is holy was that?
The more he strained his eyes to get a better look, the more the shapes began to take form. It looked like a rudimentary form of transport, perhaps made to be buoyant? There were two large cylinders attached to the lower area (or the top? Grace couldn’t tell, and this ship could’ve easily been flipped out in space). It had no thrusters at all, making Grace question how it was even out here.
Rocky was still, after Grace’s brainstorming session, repeating his name as he moved around the small area and occasionally bumped into Grace’s legs.
Grace knelt. “Rocky!”
He stilled. “Eridian! Rescue ship!” he blurted out.
The scientist paused, tapping his thumb to his finger as he considered this possibility. Could it really be a rescue ship sent for Rocky? He turned back around to examine it further. It didn’t look like Eridian architecture in any way other than the colouration, but Rocky couldn’t even see that. “You sure?”
Rocky tapped the ball against the glass, getting as close as he could. “Mmm. Maybe not. Ship small and bad. Inefficient.”
“So what, or potentially who, is on that ship?” Grace felt odd calling it a ship; the way it was built reminded him so much of something else. The word was on the tip of his tongue, but he just couldn’t quite articulate it. He paused, sighing. “It must be why we’re not moving.”
“Too small to have gravity,” Rocky pointed out, scuttling after Ryland as he moved through the ship.
“Everything has gravity. It might be that we’re too far away from anything else and the gravity from that is all that’s affecting us, and we’re stuck in its orbit. Just gotta hit the thrusters and we’re out of here.”
He slipped into the seat, buckling himself up hastily. “Alright, just gotta…” Even as he tried to urge it forward, the ship didn’t budge. He blinked, trying again. Could there have been another fuel leak? No, surely not. If there was, it would have rendered the ship completely useless, and the power was working just fine. Trying again, he noticed a distinct lack of sound coming from the thrusters. A feeling of dread washed over Grace.
Something had happened to the thrusters.
Something to do with that ship.
“Grace look confused. Why?”
“Ship isn’t moving.”
“Rocky know that.”
Grace brushed a few stray pieces of hair out of his face, humming in thought for a brief second.
“You remember the chains you made for the collection device?”
“Yes. Eridians have very good memory.”
Cracking his knuckles, which caused Rocky to recoil in disgust, Ryland stood and hurried back to the viewing window.
“Gonna need you to make me one more of those,” he called out to Rocky and began trying to calculate distance in his head.
“Approximately 8 Earth miles.”
“Thanks, Rocky,” Grace tapped his chin. “You think you can make a chain that long?”
“We still have chain from predator collector. Can tie to tether and connect!”
Grace fiddled with his glasses, considering it. The Hail Mary had longer tethers, equipped for whatever was needed. If he attached that to the chain, it could get him close, but he was unsure if it’d be close enough.
“Gonna have to take a chance here,” he conceded. “Where’d we leave the chain again?”
It took about 20 minutes for Grace to feel confident in going out that far from the ship. Rocky was cheering him on from the cockpit, as it seemed he always did during these missions.
“Words of encouragement!”
“Still doesn’t help.” He laughed.
The thermal layers beneath the orange suit didn’t do much to drive away the chill of anticipation rolling down his spine as he neared the ship they were stuck orbiting. The red liquid became increasingly more familiar until he was finally up close enough to realise it was blood.
Real, red blood. Just like that on Earth.
His breath hitched as he turned back to the ship.
A submarine.
It looked exactly like a submarine! That was what he was remembering; how had he forgotten the word for submarine? The metal was welded neatly into that signature oblong shape, and it was too blatant not to be true. He pushed the thought away; that was an issue for later. For now, he had to figure out what this hunk of bloodied metal was doing so far out in space.
He reached out a hand, wiping away some of the blood still clinging to the surface.
SM-13.
There was English writing. Real proof that whoever put this here might be human—that there might be a human inside.
His stomach fluttered at the idea; he hadn’t spoken to anyone human in so long. What was he meant to say? Grace moved around the ship, looking for a way in. As he did, he began to notice there were several indents and holes. It looked like teeth had sunk into the vessel. The idea made him shudder.
As he floated around, he lost hope of finding another living being on the ship. It was ravaged, and that was putting it nicely—it was a tin can that he had a hunch was never intended for space. Lack of oxygen and the temperature would’ve likely gotten the crew even if they had made it out here.
“What Grace find, question?” Rocky inquired from the ship, having grown impatient.
Grace stared at the string, SM-13, once again. “Signs of human life.”
“What! Grace find humans? More humans?”
“Might have,” he said. He grabbed onto the sub and pulled himself to the front. There was a circular shape covered by globs of more of the blood-like substance. He cleared it and was met with a window that gave him a view of what was inside. A rudimentary control system, a battered speaker hanging from the ceiling, and a pool of blood. He scanned more, spotting what he believed to be a severed arm. He hurriedly swallowed back a gag, averting his gaze from the sight. When he did, he spotted something that made his heart skip a beat.
A man.
The stranger was still all over, save for the slow rise and fall of his chest. This was surely impossible. How was he breathing? He should be frozen to death!
Against every law of science Dr. Grace had learnt over the years, this man was breathing in the vacuum of space.
He felt tears well in his eyes as he sniffled.
There was another human out here, and Grace had just found him in a blood-drenched submarine among the stars.
He had never been happier to see another face like his.