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A flashback came rushing back to me while I fiddled away with the Taumoeba cheese (more like calcium-rich Taumoeba goo) experiment. In the memory, I was in an undergrad psychology class knocking out some of my GE credits before focusing entirely toward my degree. We’d been studying human behavior and what motivates us. I remembered the professor had drawn a pyramid on the white board divided into five sections.
Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. Right. I remembered that, though it was a bit hazy due to the time that’d lapsed since that class. From what I remember, it was a very basic way to conceptualize what humans needed to survive and thrive. Deficiencies in these areas caused high anxiety, which I’d obviously been experiencing a lot since I woke up on the Hail Mary. I clearly had a lot of deficiencies as far as needs go.
So far I’d been solidly focused on the bottom of the pyramid. Mary provided shelter, heat, air, waste management, and recycled water. I had enough clothes to last a while, so that was far down my priority list. But I’d been heavily occupied by planning out my food supply and coming up with alternatives to fill the gaps. That was largely on me (and Rocky, he insisted). The potential deficiency there was a massive source of anxiety, obviously.
It’d been well over a decade (approaching two) since I’d taken that class, and the memory of what else was on the diagram was too weak to be useful. I brought up the diagram on the computer to refresh my memory. I’d gotten most of it right, though I’d forgotten about sex. That wasn’t at all unusual for me, though. I hadn’t had the urge to masturbate once on this whole trip, and I’d seldom had the urge back on earth either. I would perform basic maintenance whenever I needed to, but that was it.
I remember feeling broken at the time, wondering if there was something biologically wrong with my body. Everyone else seemed so sex focused, but I simply wasn’t. In the years since then I’d learned many other people also lacked a strong sex drive. My numerous failed relationships didn’t help me feel much better about it, though. Even knowing that asexuality (or maybe demisexuality, if I found the right person) was a thing didn’t ease the emotional wounds left by repeated failures.
Whatever. It is what it is. Basic maintenance checked off that bullet point as far as I was concerned. It was sufficient in the here and now. I moved onto the level above it. Security. I laughed out loud.
“What Grace reading, question?” Rocky was entering the airlock in the lab wearing his form fitting suit.
“Nothing,” I dismissed, but I knew he was going to keep prodding. He always did.
“Is something.”
He was incredibly persistent, so I figured I’d just give in then and save us some of the inevitable back and forth. With a heavy sigh, I began to explain.
“Was just doing research on how to make sure I don’t go crazy with anxiety over the next few years. Mental health isn’t my area so I was doing some reading and, yeah, I’m already at a pretty big disadvantage. We’ll be lucky if I don’t completely lose my mind.”
“Explain. Would like to help Grace not go crazy.”
Rocky was so caring and attentive it made my heart squeeze sometimes. I often wondered if it actually skipped a beat and Rocky could hear when he had such a profound effect on me. I was such an open book to him on a biological level, but I could never be sure how much of it he understood.
He didn’t have his screen reading device with him at that moment, which I was grateful for. I could skip the whole sex part. But this did mean I’d be gesticulating excessively with my hands, as I tended to do when trying to get a point across. And this point came with a whole damn diagram.
“Okay, so at the bottom of the hierarchy we have the basic needs for survival - for the human body to maintain homeostasis. We’re working on the food part,” I said, gesturing towards my ongoing experiments. Then I began checking off the other bullet points on my fingers. “And the rest is covered by Mary - shelter, heat, air, water. Stuff like that. Stuff we need to keep our bodies functioning.
“What made me laugh was the next level,” I said, raising my hand up a level to convey a higher level than what I’d just been explaining. “Security. That is severely lacking here.”
“Grace not secure?”
“I mean, we’re hurtling through space in a craft that isn’t meant to survive as long as we need it to. Or get as close to an atmosphere as we got with Adrian and will probably get at Erid. She’s pretty busted up already. We’re gonna be white-knuckling this for the whole trip.”
“‘White-knuckling?”
I’d tried my best to explain colors to him, though his words for each concept were rather clunky. White was ‘reflect all light wavelengths.’ My mind could translate him fairly efficiently at that point, though, so it was hardly a stumbling block for us.
“When you grip something super tight,” I said, demonstrating with a clenched fist. “Like you would if you’re stressed out, the blood flow gets restricted and your knuckles turn white.”
“Understood,” Rocky confirmed. “Rocky is engineer. Can fix Mary. Knuckles will remain full of blood.”
My eyebrows raised at that. He had a point. He’d already repaired a good portion of the equipment in the lab and had spotted several weak spots in the hull that needed bolstering. We were working on those repairs already and he seemed pretty confident that they wouldn’t be an issue. Rocky was incredibly capable. But still, it wasn’t that easy.
“Maybe the mechanical parts of her, but neither one of us is an expert with computers. I mean, you’ve only had your laptop a few months. The most complicated thing I can do confidently is defrag a hard drive or write very basic lines of code. Like very very basic. And there are a lot of computer-reliant components onboard.”
There were a lot of words in there I wasn’t sure he understood, but that was kind of my point.
“Am learning. Will be better than Grace soon.”
“Somehow I don’t doubt that.” I chuckled. It was probably true.
A silence stretched between us for a few seconds before Rocky decided to press on.
“Issue solved, question? Grace remain sane, question?”
“I mean, there’s more to it.” Rocky titled his carapace in a way that indicated he wanted me to go on. “Okay, so there’s the security of my health, which isn’t guaranteed. Armando can only do so much.”
“Rocky can fix.” That was his response to everything that bothered me, it seemed.
“I mean, that’d be great. But I can’t expect you to become an expert on everything. You can’t become both a computer expert and a medical doctor just based on the contents of Wikipedia.”
“Can.”
“Rocky.” I sighed. I wish I had his level of confidence. Even just half of it would do me wonders.
“Grace,” he responded simply, mimicking my tone the best he could in his own musical voice.
For no reason whatsoever, I was once again caught by my overwhelming desire to just watch him. He wasn’t doing anything particularly interesting then, but simply existing was enough. He fascinated me more than anything else I’d ever encountered in my life. The way he could mimic tone despite our languages being so radically different was truly a marvel. Perhaps the fact that I could detect tone at all was a bit of a marvel, too. Maybe.
After a few moments I’d realized I’d been staring and cleared my throat.
“Well, hopefully proper nutrition will help ward off a lot of the bad stuff. Can’t help some things, though. I’m light years away from the nearest emergency room. I could have a stroke - that’s where blood flow to parts of the brain is blocked. I mean… maybe Armando could fix that. I don’t know.”
I trailed off as I thought over the limitations of his protocols. I really needed to look into his programming and medication stock more. It could perform a lot of tasks - IV insertion, medication dispension, basic vitals monitoring. But could he perform an emergency craniectomy? I had my doubts.
“Next project: improve Armando.” Rocky chirped happily, as though these problems could really be solved with enough determination. “What else, question?”
I glanced back at the diagram. And then I laughed again.
“Emotional security.”
Before I even finished the sentence, Rocky had two of his arms wrapped around my middle, securing me against the chair I’d been sitting in and essentially pinning me in place. My heart for sure skipped a beat that time.
“Tell Rocky how to be better emotional security. Rocky is trying. Interspecies difference a problem, question? Want to help, want to help, want-“
“Whoa whoa, calm down, buddy,” I said, wrapping my own arms around the top of his carapace in return. He was panicking. “You aren’t doing anything wrong. I promise.”
“Why Grace not emotionally secure, question?”
I removed my glasses and set them on the table. This was going to be a hard one to explain. Even I didn’t fully understand it, though I did my best to bring up any memories of that lecture so very long ago. It was murky, but still there. And greatly enhanced by having the diagram in front of me.
“It’s got nothing to do with what you are or aren’t doing. It has to do with me and my own… issues.” I took a steadying breath and ran my hand soothingly over the smooth xenonite surface. Rocky didn’t deserve to feel inadequate in the face of my own mental health problems. He really was doing his best. Better than his best. Sometimes I felt like he was prioritizing me over his own needs, which made me feel even more guilty.
“I was very, uh, emotionally isolated back on Earth. Didn’t do well with relationships of any kind - friendships, mates, whatever. I sucked at all of it. I was anxious around everyone and hated myself and I just… I just…”
I’d begun crying again. Rocky didn’t even hesitate to respond with physical comfort. One of his claws reached up and wiped the tears from my cheek. They were quickly replaced by even more tears, however, and the gesture was, in the end, futile. I was going to leak uncontrollably for a bit.
“Grace smart. Stupid stupid sometimes but also smart smart smart,” he said, continuing to hold my cheek softly as he spoke. “Grace kind. Grace beautiful.”
My heart lurched and my head dropped to his carapace. I didn’t deserve him. I didn’t deserve anyone.
“Grace brave.”
“I’m not,” I choked out between tears. That one broke me. “I’m not any of that, but especially not that.”
I sunk down onto the floor , resting on my knees in front of him, and started openly bawling my eyes out. Rocky, to his credit, stayed firmly wrapped around me even as the wet mix of tears and snot spread across the xenonite surface. Even I was shouting disgust in my head over the messy leakiness that I was exhibiting.
“Grace brave,” he repeated.
“I’m not.” I didn’t want to say this, but I needed to. I swallowed hard and braced myself. “I was forced on this mission, Rocky. I didn’t choose it. Not like you did. I wasn’t brave. I was a coward. I was…”
My words were muffled against the barrier, but he could miraculously still understand me. His arms tightened around me as he absorbed the new information. There was more to it - being chased down, tackled, drugged to forget. But it covered the important bit. I was a coward. I was an awful person. I was an absolute fraud.
“Grace walks in space with thin tether many times - jumped to catch message from Rocky, caught predator collector while fishing, jumped from Mary to Blip-A with no tunnel to save Rocky and Erid.”
And yeah, okay, the logistics of space walking were kind of insane when you really thought about it. And I did do it. I wasn’t sure that made me brave. If anything, I was confused and desperate those first few times. And when it came to that final jump out of Mary to the Blip-A, I was feeling pretty confident in my ability. I mean, mostly…
Rocky wasn’t finished, however.
“Grace make choice to find me after Taumoeba escape. Great risk to self just to save Rocky and Erid. Gave up life on earth to help others. Grace brave brave brave.”
My sobbing continued as his words hit me. I wasn’t very aware of time during this particular crying jag, nor was I aware of what my body was even doing. At some point I’d curled up on the floor next to him, arm wrapping around his lower carapace and head resting on one of his legs. As I slowly came out of my emotional episode, I became aware of one of his claws gently stroking through my hair. He was petting me like a frightened animal. Which I basically was.
I immediately felt selfish again. Rocky had also been through hell. He’d drifted alone in space longer than I’d been alive, but he was somehow holding it together. Not only holding it together, but providing me with comfort. I was truly awful.
“What… what about your needs?” I asked carefully.
“Rocky feel secure,” he assured me. “But… feel distress at times. Memories of crewmates dying. Think about without meaning to. Come back at any time. Make me shake and panic.”
“Sounds like PTSD. Post-traumatic stress disorder.” The words were fairly straight forward and Rocky seemed to understand, even with the new combination of them.
“Grace helps. Touch calms. Hearing heartbeat and messy disgust fluids calms.” I chuckled slightly at that. “Helping Grace live calms.”
“I don’t deserve you,” I said, once again muffled by just how tightly I was pressing into my suit.
“You do.”
I really didn’t. I was throwing all my mental health problems at his feet while he was also suffering. This was the opposite of helping. I was making things worse.
How does one cope with PTSD? Obviously not all methods humans came up with will work for Eridians. You can’t do EMDR without eyes, for example. But you can do the equivalent of talk therapy. I was not remotely qualified to be a therapist, but I had to try something.
“Would talking about it help?” I asked.
It took a few moments for Rocky to gather his thoughts.
“Do not know. Rocky is not an emotion doctor.”
“Psychologist,” I offered. I was glad to hear such a thing existed on Erid. At least there will be help for him when we arrive…in a few years. “You can try if you think it’ll help. You can try anything.”
“Maybe,” Rocky said. “Not now.”
Dealing with each other’s mental health struggles was going to be a challenge. There were many cultural divides between us already, though we were both determined to overcome them. But our desire to be in contact with each other during moments of distress seemed to cross the cultural divide. Maybe we both just needed some hug therapy. Was that a thing? Surely that was a thing.
“My brave brave brave Grace. So kind to Rocky. Love you love you love you.”
That was the first time those words had been spoken between us. And sure, there were a lot of different kinds of love with both of our species, and we would almost certainly need to dig into that at some point. But not now. Whatever way he meant it, I was happy to accept.
“I love you too.”
He chirped happily and the hand that was petting my hair stuttered slightly. Whatever way he assumed I’d meant it was clearly meaningful to him. And I meant it in any way, really. Whatever way he assumed I meant. Or perhaps an entirely new way. Maybe our love didn’t fit in a box for either of our species. It just… was.
—
Several days later we temporarily dropped back to zero G so I could do a space walk and bolster one of the weak spots in the hull. Rocky had created a paste that would turn into a solid after a few minutes of exposure to the cold temperatures of space. We’d practiced how I was meant to spread it for the best coverage, and once we were confident in my abilities, I initiated the walk.
It wasn’t terribly difficult to do. But Rocky was basically a genius and I was simply following his instructions. I spread the last bit on the portion he indicated and then carefully put the tools away.
“I think that’s done,” I said into the headpiece in my helmet.
“Good good good. Brave Grace come back to Rocky now.”
I chuckled at the new monicker as I began to work my way back towards the airlock.
“You don’t need to keep calling me that.”
”Want to call you that. Want you to know when you are being extraordinary. Now come back to Rocky.”
”I’m coming I’m coming. You need some patience,” I responded in mock annoyance. He could easily pick up on my sarcasm by now. Hell, he could practically do that from the beginning.
”Will always be worried for Grace when doing something dangerous. Would miss hugs too much if something happened.”
I laughed again. He’d grown as reliant on hugs as I was.
“Well, hugs are incoming. Brace yourself,” I said as I entered the airlock.
Finding a sense of emotional security was going to be difficult, but Rocky had tapped into some deep level of reassurance. Between his confident statements and easy-going sarcasm, I could feel my very soul healing. Maybe I could find the security I had been desperate for for so long. Maybe I could finally feel comfortable deep down in a way I never had before. We had a long time to figure it out, and I was very much looking forward to it.