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When the Hail Mary became nothing more than a trail of smoke in the sky, a dot in the atmosphere of Earth, Eva allowed herself to relax- just for a bit.
They're all going to hell, Eva knew this, and so did the rest of the world. In the sky above her, Ryland Grace was lost to the sun and moon, and down here, Eva would be freezing in hell. There wasn't much to do anymore, nothing but waiting, and so when they hauled her away to stand and face the judgment of the world, she accepted her fate with a solemnity that civilization condemned.
A witch, they called her, a dictator, a devil.
It didn't really matter. The only thing she wanted, the only thing that they allowed her, was a window in her cell.
It was good enough though, because when the sun set, she could still find Tau Ceti. She had memorized it long before she bid him farewell, had searched up how to find it in the night sky the day that she had been burdened with the mission to bear the authority of Project Hail Mary.
That very first night, she had looked out her window and then back at her computer. Tau Ceti.
Their last hope. Their only hope.
Civilization was beautiful, humanity was beautiful. Beautiful, and so precious. Delicate. The thought of it dying- it broke something in her, something soft, gutted in the underbelly. Maybe she killed it herself that first night, took a knife to her own insides, to steel herself for what would come. She was a daughter, first and foremost, and Earth was her mother. A daughter who'd do anything to save her mother.
If she had to burn it all down first, for a little bit of hope, then she'd strike the match and coax the first flames to life.
And ever since then, every night, she never failed to look at the sky.
Never failed to find Grace in the stars.
When they told her from the comfort of her cell, that the countdown had begun, that the Hail Mary had finally reached Tau Ceti, she shed a tear for the first time in 13 years.
He was there, they were all there. The world was counting on them now, the wait had just begun.
To the world, Ryland Grace was already dead. To the world, in the 13 years that followed that launch, they had already allowed themselves to mourn.
For Eva though, the mourning had just begun.
He was still alive out there.
Had he just woken up? Or was he still asleep? Did he have his first meal yet? What was again? What did it taste like? Was he singing with Olesya? Was Yáo watching them? Maybe they were teaching him how to perform a spacewalk, maybe they were watching movies together, maybe, maybe, maybe.
That night, she looked at the sky. Tau Ceti stared back at her, Grace was out there.
He was alive, his body was warm, he was singing and dancing, he was eating a packaged meal and complaining about the taste, he was digging through his belongings and pulling on a pair of bright socks, he was brushing his teeth and taking a sponge bath, he was sleeping in his cot and telling the others to turn the lights off. He was drinking with Olesya and cutting his hair, he was laughing with Yáo and messing with microscopes.
He was 13 light years away, in heaven, alive and dead, warm and cold.
And Eva was in hell.
I'm counting on you, she mouthed the words, silent, desperate. That night, she prayed for the first time in years.
Hail, Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.
She allowed herself a small smile, something secretive, hidden into her pillow.
Grace, she mouthed his name. Sweet, it was so sweet. Grace had always been sweet. Endearing, a fool. A charming fool, and back then- briefly, she had allowed herself to wonder, had even, almost, indulged. The sort of thing that only an idiot would do, but maybe Grace had the tendency to do that to her, bring out the lunacy in her, remind her that she was human. Those split second moments of weakness, the underbelly that somehow still existed, bared only to him in those brief spaces shared between the two of them.
The world sought to remind her of her place though, of her responsibility, her cross to bear, and those buds of a fantasy had died with it, snipped before they ever had the chance to so much as bloom.
"I can't do it." He'd said.
Like it was so easy. So easy to say no.
Eva had not been allowed to say no. When the rest of the world had pointed a finger at her, and told her to be a dictator, to be the devil, to burn the world down to save it, she had never been allowed to say no. To say no was to die, to doom the world and Earth, her mother, to a cold death.
You will save us, they said, and Eva had nodded. Yes, yes, I will. I'll do whatever it takes.
It was insulting, it was offensive, even. That infuriating man. Soft, sweet, damning the rest of them when he couldn't muster up the courage to say yes. He didn't understand.
He couldn't understand her, in that moment, couldn't look her in the eyes and just get it.
The last bit of hope in saving the world was light years away, and standing before her in that moment, her own last bit of hope.
He'd find it, the solution, their salvation. She knew he would.
He was in heaven, she'd sent him there, with traces of soil still under his nails, and the smell of the wind, the breeze blowing his hair and Earth kissing him farewell.
She slept peacefully that night, dreaming of him, his hair blowing in the wind and his smile, the smell of beer and the beach. She dreamed of the sand under her toes, the waves were crashing and he was saying something. He was holding her hand, his palm was warm and there was a callous on the side of his finger. His glasses were smudged and she plucked it from his nose to wipe it clean. There was fog.
He was leaning to whisper in her ear.
"Hold on a little longer." He said.
Eva woke up to the smell of the sea.
Okay.
Just a little longer.
He was gone. Gone, gone, gone.
Maybe she loved him. Maybe she could've loved him.