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Let God take what we’ve given and make the right choice. Because I’ve done all I could.
Let Grace find the cure he deserves, let him die painlessly and not in vain. Because I need him to, for the world.
I remember what his face looked like. All those years ago.
And I promised I would not let his image seep into my mind but I’ve failed. It brings me pain and my love is rotten, and that’s all I deserve. But in this cold cold cell the only warmth is my blood in my veins.
Let him be mine— my memories of him my secret. So I can only feel the pain and brokenness for my actions. So that can be mine.
I regret it but I don't, do I? What I had to do. What had to be done. As long as I go to hell when I die then I will lie in un-rest knowing I got what I deserved. And I won’t have to mourn any more. What I regret is letting it get to my head. I need to be strong. I need to let his memories not run like filth in my mind, over and over, to let his sacrifice keep me company, lonesomely.
I hate myself but I think I hated myself long ago. When the world didn’t rely on my shoulders and when it did. And now it’s gone. But my choices remain. And they saved the world. I hope,
It was a long shot, I know it was, and I knew it back then too. But please, don't let it all be in vain.
I clench my teeth to not choke on tears. They will not eat me.
I’ll wash myself away on the shores of bitterness and the cold before I lose my resilience and lose my strength.
But there is nothing left to do here.
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Memories of Grace flash in my mind. But they are not memories that have been done. They’re from the void where my mind spins and they’re filled with what could have been.
I mourn over the scientist that became the lamb to the slaughter because he was all the world had left and I know it wasn’t perfect. There’s only so much one woman can do and that the world can do for her.
The world needed a large team, more advanced technology than it could acquire, and people that got the job done.
Grace didn't want any of that, he simply wanted to survive.
That’s why I think of him.
He wasn’t made for the mission, if the mission fails he was the precursor.
…
And sorrow.
He was not happy with what I’d done, he sat in a nicer cell than this when he made that clear once for all. And I hope and pray Ilyukhina and Yao made him go through it and kept the pain down. The pain that is failure. Of every not-advanced-enough piece of tech, every bug we couldn’t fix, the equipment that hadn’t been tested for more than 70 years, the ones who died before him in that explosion, my soul I gave away for the world, the coldness seeping into everyone’s guts on earth, of the chasm in Antarctica, of the chemicals burning the atmosphere… and every sin of humanity someone,somewhere, out there is trying to wash away.
I could not have gone instead.
That’s all I tell myself.
That’d I’d rather be someone who did something instead of nothing.
That a strong voice, a drive, and connections is all I needed to help the world and I did.
But it’s hard not to think about the alternative when there’s no little time and no one else.
So why am I still thinking about him?
Because the more I do less I see flaws and more I see the beauty of a human soul sent to die.
His crooked, awkward yet happy, smile.
The crinkles against his lips when he frowned.
So human.
And how much did he care for those kids?
He used it as an excuse and I replay the sound of myself berating him for it every night as I try to sleep.
But he truly loved those kids? I mean, I know he did sure… but I can't imagine it. I can't imagine his voice lighting up a room with his scientific curiosity the way it did when he was studying astrophage. All I hear is the cracking in his voice and pounding of equipment as he resented the fact that it was water-based.
I can’t imagine him happily telling a student they did a good job. All I can see is the reserved quietly disgusted look he’d give me when he questioned the choices I made on the project.
I can’t see his face reassuring a child who was anxious. All I hear are those screams when he was taken against his will to the cell. The last thing he saw before waking up in the ship.
And I see visions.. Of things that never happen and I can't say should’ve, of him being a human. One I could be close with. One who didn't represent the unholy way to save our lives. But one that was real, happy, and cared about me. Like any other human. The one who wore his glasses crooked, drank his coffee with two small packets of sugar, and even apologized when bumping into inanimate objects while focused on work before realizing it wasn't a person and giving a sheepish grin.
And he could’ve been real. Not just a tool to redirect our fates. He could’ve lived a full life if I hadn’t stolen it away from him. A human, who loved his job, was socially awkward, bad at hiding emotions, always worked hard even if he didn’t enjoy it, was polite minus occasional breakdowns or when with Dr. Lokken, had passion and youth, was insecure about his scientific opinions and terribly tried to cover it up. And I took it away from him.
And it could’ve been. I could’ve been the one to let him live that life. To be there beside him, and promote his genius and his tenderness instead of forcing it and berating his humanity.
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As a child I thought I was cursed. I cried and prayed for humanity, for friends, for worldwide success. I grieved over the mass starvation and wars that erupted from them in the past as a young adult. And I always wanted to make a difference.
Now I have, but I hate what I’ve done. I never would have done it differently, that isnt the point! The point is, there’s an alternative timeline where none of this had to happen. And I was never one to consider alternative possibilities and ‘if’s’ when I needed to find an answer right in front of me, but with more than enough time in a jail cell, no answers left to search for, and nothing to do but wait… these things have begun to eat away at me.
There’s an alternative universe where the lab never exploded, Dr. Dubois never died and neither did his backup, and Grace never had to go.
There’s an alternate universe where we somehow found Astrophage a long time beforehand and had proper time to prepare and solve the problem before it had the chance of becoming severe.
There’s an alternate universe where Dr. Grace and I… could’ve known each other as humans and not just coworkers.
And I crave to have a soul so pristine to connect with another.
I grieve and I grieve my actions and what the world has become until I forget what led up to this and have to remember.
I bet there’s an alternate universe with no astrophage infecting the sun.
But that universe pays no mind to me and I let it be known it’s dead in my mind.
And I can’t wait until I will be too.
So I'll entertain my delusions that Dr. Ryland Grace and I could’ve been friends and share company for now–until I grow tired, sick, and weary from the thoughts. And a smile will be shown to me that’s not coy, scared, or polite. One that isn’t of this terrible Earth but a new heavenly place of purity.
And I will know that smile was never directed at me in that way. That Earth isn't saved. That one woman can’t do the impossible without God moving the mountains and that hope has failed because that was never my idea of moving forward.
But I’ll see an angel of hope in that light- a warm-colored shadow of one at least-and know that the world couldn’t be pure, people starve and kill each other, but this man that never got to be mine is my own sort of angel. A vessel for the world in a state of fragile beauty and sustainability that never could be or even was. And I’ll bask in that light until the rot takes over my brain and I vomit from self-loathing again. Till it never was and never shall be my world.