Chapter Text
“Two months,” I would sound like a madman if there were any humans left aboard the Hail Mary. But there aren’t. Just an Eridian that can hear me descend further into my insanity.. Once I’ve written out a basic timeline and checked my math (always check your work, students!) I make another low grumble. I take another quick look at the hydroponics system beside me. There were about ten pots in total, but I really only needed four. The seeds… well, what was left of them– had been planted. But would they be able to grow?
The disaster at Adrian essentially had destroyed much of the equipment and precious storages in the ship. Much of the heartier seeds– watercress, lettuce, water spinach– were conveniently destroyed. I had only bok choy and celery left– only enough seeds for two pots of both plants. Hooray! At least the lab was relatively intact (goodbye extra microscope, you served us well).
Anyhow, I would have to make do. My survival quite literally depended on it.
I had enough food to last me three years, and that was assuming I reduced my caloric intake to 1000 a day. Not exactly ideal. So about two months into our journey to Erid, I started Operation ‘Don’t Starve’ (Together! Haha. I should show that game to Rocky sometime). This included spreading out the number of ‘real’ meals I would eat, growing crops, and, sigh, introducing Taumoeba to my diet. Even still, I would probably end up surviving on Taumoeba for the last six months of the trip. As well as the time it’d take for Erid to synthesize something more nutritious for me.
All together, it’ll probably be at least a year of suffering– scurvy, possibly beriberi, more if I was really thinking about it.
I try not to think about it too much.
“Grace need help fix, question?” Rocky’s voice carried down the hall from the cockpit.
“I thought you were checking our trajectory,” I call back. “For the probe and all?”
After some discussion in the first few weeks of their reunion, we had decided that we– and by that, Rocky meant himself alone– would build a probe to send news and data ahead of the Hail Mary. He had been alarmed when I explained the likely physical and mental changes that would happen by the time we got there.
‘Eridian scientists smart,’ Rocky had assured me in the best way he could. ‘Eridian scientists make new food for Grace before Grace even arrive!’
I thought that this was more than optimistic but kept those thoughts locked up in a small box. There was no need to stress Rocky out more than I already had. There was also another way to avoid suffering, if I really thought about it. One I hadn’t considered in a long time.
I had only glimpsed it last time– when I was searching for DuBois’ nitrogen tank to clean out the Taumoeba infection. Damn. If only I had kept the heroin.
“Rocky done. Bored now. Grace no answer question!”
I glance back down at the manual and pile of little pieces in front of me.
“I’m good, Rocky,” I called back. Back on Earth, I had killed just about any plant I ever ended up being charged with. Linda’s dead flowers flash in my mind. The fallout from that argument had been pretty bad, though flowers were far from our only problem.
In my defense, peace lilies were finicky. Maybe. Probably not.
“Grace no good at build, Rocky help!” The telltale clanking sounds of Rocky scampering across the tunnels over to the lab marked his arrival.
“I’m pretty sure these lamps will burn up if we stick them in your atmosphere, buddy,” I turn to greet the little Eridian, bouncing his carapace up and down slightly.
“No,” Rocky points at Grace. “Rocky tell Grace what to do. Then Grace fix.”
“Ah,” I am glad that Rocky has yet to completely pick up on subtle facial expressions in humans. I turn back down to look at the deconstructed lamp on the table. “That’s… an idea.”
I’m reminded of the first few weeks it had taken when Rocky first moved in, where I had spent at least six hours moving all of the guy’s things into the Hail Mary. Then came the assembly of Rocky’s tunnels. That was a Herculean task, which had taken two weeks… mostly because of Rocky’s perfectionism and the constant changes to the tunnels’ designs.
“Rocky Grace fix fast,” Rocky eagerly presses his carapace to the xenonite wall to get a better listen of the mess on the table. “Then Grace tell more Rocky about Earth.”
“Question?” I ask hesitantly when the two little stomps that Rocky usually performs to end his questions don’t come.
“Statement.”
Well, who was I to deny an eager learner more information and knowledge? I had plenty of time to fully fix up the hydroponics system.
“Okay, okay, fine,” I replied. “Come on, spit it out, I know you’ve been watching me for the past ten minutes from the cockpit.”
“No!” Rocky insists, a little high pitched trill betraying him.
xxx
“Grace,” Rocky calls from his side of the lab. “Have question.”
“Yeah, what’s up?” I ask, not taking my eyes off of the Taumoeba sample in front of me. I was running some tests to see if I can reduce the amount of water content in them… if that’s possible.
“Grace full name is Grace, question?”
Well, I knew it had to come at some point. I pull myself from the microscope and turn to him as he comes to sit by me.
“Not exactly. So on Earth, you have a family name. Mine is Grace.”
“And, question?”
“And people also have a given name, which is usually picked out by your parents as a way to distinguish you as an individual within your family and among others.”
“Is Grace given name or clan name, question?”
“It’s my family name,” I reply. “Most people called me that on Earth so that’s the name I gave you when we met.”
Rocky thinks, claws tapping the floor. “What Grace given name, question?”
“Ryland,” I reply a little sheepishly. It’s been a while since anyone really referred to me with that name.
“Grace family name have meaning. Grace given name meaning, question?”
“Oh, uh…” I pause, thinking. “There isn’t really a meaning? I mean I’m sure there’s some etymological origin for it, but the name ‘Ryland’ doesn’t really mean much.”
“On Erid, call other Eridian by given name mean important relationship. Is same for Earth?” He forgets to add ‘question’ at the end of his sentence but by now I can pick up his tone better. Even if it is a jumble of musical notes and chords.
“Yeah, kinda. Usually your friends or family will refer to you with your given name. Your family name is typically used by higher authorities or coworkers– formal settings, really.”
“How come Grace no tell Rocky given name?”
“Well, I just thought it’d be easier,” I say, guilt now suddenly creeping in. “Given our language barrier and all. But if you want to call me Ryland go ahead.”
Rocky makes a happy trill at that sound. “Rocky need to think of good Eridian equal word for Grace given name.”
“Sounds good,” I nod my head. “Why do you ask, though? Do your names mean anything?”
“On Erid, name is way of identifying self, aside from carapace marking,” Rocky replies. He puts his two front(?) legs together the way he did when we first met. “When introduce self, show carapace marking and give full name. Full introduction include clan name, cluster, position, title, and then given name. After first introduction, Eridian refer to each other by title and given name. If clustermate, then just given name. Sometimes change title.”
“Ah, so that’s why your name is so long,” I reply. “So what does your given name mean, then?”
Rocky pauses, thinking. He then trills out a soft melody whose words I can’t quite catch.
“Is difficult to say in language type Rocky use to communicate with Grace.”
Ah, I guess I hitting some speedbumps on my road to becoming fluent in Eridian. We had been speaking largely in a pidgin sort of dialect, word order close to English as a means to help my stupid mushy brain understand it better.
“Most similar way to say is… Boulder That Collect Knowledge and Cleave Cliff.”
“Wow,” I respond. “Should I be calling you ‘Boulder,’ then?”
“No, Rocky like name Grace give. First Earth alien name for Eridians. Is special.”
I smile. “I knew you were a big softie.”
“Is not, is scary rock spider.”
We both laugh at his callback. I think more about what Rocky had said earlier about Eridian names.
“You mentioned something about position and title earlier. What’s the difference between those two? I think this might be a translation issue, but is it a way of marking your status or something?”
“Position explanation. Example, how Rocky fix many things. Earth word Engineer. Position refer to big task of Eridian. Can change also, if Eridian change task or get bigger task.”
I nod, trying to follow along. “So it’s your job?”
“Similar. Not same. Can refer to great love of Eridian. Great love task. Bring meaning to Erid, bring meaning to that Eridian.”
Hmmm, so it’s like someone’s true passion and purpose in life. Something fulfilling.
“Okay, then what about the title? Do you guys have royalty?” I crack a smile, trying to imagine a giant king rock with a crown on its head.
“Title is different for Eridian. Not society title. Is different for each Eridian. Is relationship to Eridian. Example, you are Friend Grace for Rocky. For Adrian, Rocky is Mate Rocky.”
“Oh, so it distinguishes how you know each other.” Part of me considers changing the word ‘mate’ to ‘partner.’ The word makes me think more of animals in heat rather than loving marriages or significant others…
“Wait, so what would I be to Adrian? Stranger Grace? Friend of Rocky Grace?”
“No,” Rocky taps the xenonite barrier in between us in slight amusement. “If Adrian still Mate Adrian to Rocky, Grace is Alien Friend Grace. If Adrian no mate Rocky, Grace is Alien Grace.”
“So I become a friend to Adrian by being friends with you.”
“Yes. Because Adrian Rocky mates, cluster expand to include past relationship. Grace is Rocky friend, then Adrian is Grace friend. Easy math.”
“Hm.” It was fascinating. A whole system for denoting relationships and identity based on one’s passion. If only Earth was like that!
“Grace.”
“Yeah?”
“Rocky think of given name for Grace.”
“Lay it on me.”
“Is word, not object. Word no lay. Only hear. Why Grace stupid, question?”
“It’s a saying. Just tell me.”
“Grace given name is Earth Friend Of Leak and Softness.”
“Awww, that’s so cute,” I smile. “Wait, you’re naming me after my biology?”
“Is fitting. Given names is to describe Eridian. Grace is leaky and soft, statement.” I swear he’s saying ‘statement’ just to mess with me.
“I’m not leaky!”
“Wrong. Is very leaky. Erid will agree with Rocky.”
“I’m not leaky enough for it to be part of my name!” I protest, crossing my arms.
Rocky goes completely still for a moment. Then throws three of his arms in the air.
“Is joke!” Rocky chitters with laughter. “Rocky create melody for Grace given name. Will tell Grace later, when melody done.”
xxx
“Good morning, Rock,” I stifle a yawn whilst stretching my arms out as much as I can on the narrow bunk. “Morning, Armando.”
The medical bot’s arms bring a pouch of water down to me and I give it a little pat.
“Grace say ‘good morning’ but only sleep 18,000 seconds,” Rocky states from his position in his ball right by the bed. “Grace not sleep enough.”
I swear I can hear the deadpan tone in his voice now. I take a drink of water.
“I tried,” I climbed out of the bunk with as much agility as a man in his mid-thirties with a poor diet and exercise regimen can muster. “Can’t blame me for it.”
“Armando say Grace need 29,000 seconds for sleep,” Rocky huffs, “Or else Grace stupid.”
I ignore him by taking another swig of water. Thank goodness I wasn’t going to run out of that anytime soon. The pouch is empty by the time I’ve changed out of my pajamas.
“Rocky read Earth think machine, Grace need sleep so Grace not die,” Rocky rolls in front of me, blocking my path out of the dormitory. “Grace sleep, Rocky watch.”
“Uhhhh…” I stalled for time. I wanted to check on the Taumoeba and plants– it had become a daily habit at this point, or maybe a morning ritual just to put my stupid overthinking brain to rest. And like clockwork and the mother-hen he has become, Rocky was in my way. “How about this?”
I take a few steps to the side and squat down, setting my now empty water pouch on the ground while motioning Rocky to come closer.
Rocky takes the bait, rolling closer. “What, question? Grace too embarrassed to say in front of Armando, question? Stupid.”
“Yeah, um– just,” I lower my voice as much as I can. “Come here, Rock.”
And just as I spot the opening, I make a tremendous leap for the ladder, hauling my still sleepy butt as fast as I can. A string of what I assume are Eridian curses can be heard from below.
I manage to get through the first task of my daily checklist– monitoring Taumoeba 82.5– when Rocky finally comes crashing in, fuming with ire. Quite literally– the little guy has visible heat lines coming out of the radiator vents on top of his head. He had previously described it to me as the Eridian method of releasing stress and pent up energy.
“Grace no listen!” Rocky shouts as he finally reaches the space in the tunnel above me. He then lets out a screeching, awful note that reminds me of nails on a chalkboard.
I let out a yelp and staggered around the table, away from Rocky. Unfortunately for me, Rocky follows, determined to lecture me face to face. “Grace no listen, Grace stupid because no sleep! Grace even stupider no continue sleep!”
“Okay okay, sorry,” I hold my hands out, bracing for another auditory attack. “I just need to get through the daily checklist and then I’ll stop, okay?”
“Grace no need do science,” Rocky shrilly replies, taming his voice back down to something tolerable. “Taumoeba fine, no change in last 10 hours since Grace last check.”
“I know I know,” I respond, straightening up now that the danger has passed. “But I need to check on the plants too. And the food supply, and our fuel lines, and–”
“Grace no worry, statement,” Rocky interrupts. “Grace worry too much, no need. Rocky can check ship and Taumoeba. Rocky smarter than Grace. Grace more stupid now. Why Grace no trust Rocky, question? Because Grace more stupid when no rest. Grace go rest. No more stupid.”
I let out a sigh as he continues his rant.
Maybe I am doing too much. Ever since the Great Taumoeba EscapeTM, I am now paranoid about leaving anything to chance. I’ve structured my daily routine around checking nearly everything aboard the ship to prevent another disaster. It was definitely affecting my mood. And appetite. And sleep schedule.
I knew that I should be trying to build up my strength as much as possible for the eventual starvation that lay ahead. But even though my original mission had been completed, I couldn’t calm the anxiety in my mind about potential cataclysmic scenarios.
“Fine, I’ll go back to the dormitory once I’ve watered the plants, since you can’t do that,” I finally replied. “Just, can you let me know once you’re done? I’m not going to fall asleep until I know everything has been checked.”
“Yes yes yes,” Rocky chirps. “Rocky check. Then Rocky tell Grace.Then Grace sleep and Rocky watch.”
“Alright.”
I trudge back solemnly to the dormitory and down the ladder like a sulking toddler. Once I’ve thrown myself pathetically onto my bunk, I start to count the seconds it would take till Rocky comes back.
“Mary, dormitory lights to dark.” The warm glow quickly dimmed. Only a trace of light from the hallway and beyond flooded in. I knew that Rocky didn’t need the light necessarily, but it was rude to shut the lights off abruptly while someone else was still out and about.
I thought about getting up but stopped once more, the Eridian was likely still watching (actually, hearing) me through the ship’s walls. If Armando was a nanny bot, Rocky was ten helicopter parents packed into a little round body.
And while I am thankful for how much Rocky is prioritizing my health, we were getting into little spats and arguments every so often. Even after living together for about a year before we started the trip to Erid, we had some arguments while working on the Astrophage and Taumoeba problems. But those were easier to get by, when we were both working towards a common goal, when we were pressed for time to quite literally save all of humanity.
Now? Now, all I had was time. Time to think. About my impending doom, my past life on Earth, my cowardice. Maybe that was why I tried to always be busy. It wasn’t about making sure everything was perfect– well, part of it was– but was just another distraction for myself, from myself.
Even after turning around the Hail Mary to save Rocky, I still hadn’t admitted to the real reason why I was on the ship and the original crew were not. I was vague about it in the first few months of the journey to Erid, and Rocky seemed to pick up on the fact that it was a sore topic. After all, Rocky’s own experience on Blip-A was also a difficult topic for the Eridian to speak about, even after learning how his crew died. Rocky seemed to think that I was still mourning them. That I didn’t want to talk about my dead friends.
It was a somewhat accurate assumption, but it wasn’t the whole picture.
I toss and turn enough to cause a mini earthquake in the bunk, unable to find a comfortable position. Armando’s arms peek out of their hole in the ceiling before bringing me another pillow. It was odd that the robot could somehow read me these days. I’m pretty sure that Dr. Lamai didn’t program a bedside manner into the medical bot.
Still, I now have a pseudo stuffy to hug. I think about the multitude of fox plushies I used to adorn on my old classroom walls– most of them from former students.
I can feel my eyes welling up at this memory, reminded of how many of the young children I taught across the years were now dealing with the full, brutal consequences of Astrophage, not to mention the countless environmental consequences the Project had inflicted on Earth before sending the Hail Mary off. Those poor kids… I’d never even gotten a chance to say goodbye to them.
And there it was again. My stupid pathetic brain is bringing me back to the same stupid solution for this distress. It was there– lying in the storage compartment. I squeeze the pillow tighter.
“Grace still not sleep, statement,” Rocky’s voice echoes from down the hall. “Rocky hear Grace heartrate, no slow, still fast. Full bad.”
I roll over to face him as he gracefully climbs down into the room from his tunnel. Of course, there was Rocky as well. I couldn’t abandon my friend. Not after Rocky experienced nearly 50 years of isolation in space. I simply couldn’t. I would have to stick it out till we arrived at Erid and Rocky was reunited with his home. Till we provided Erid with the Taumoeba to save their sun.
“Grace feel okay, question?” I finally close my eyes as Rocky takes up his spot on the bunk above mind. Carapace and two arms just peaking out over the edge of the bunk.
“I’m tired but I can’t sleep,” I finally answer. “How is everything?”
“Rocky finish list. Grace sleep now.”
“...yeah,” I mumble, shifting around again.
We sit in silence for a few more moments before Rocky speaks up again.
“Grace want song? Rocky can sing song. Is usually for young Eridian. Make comfort.”
“Okay.” It wouldn’t hurt. “Thanks.”
I hear Rocky settle and begin what I assume is a lullaby. I can catch a word here and there– warmth, hum, family– but many others get lost as each note and chord slides into the other. It was a riverflow of sound, rising and falling in pitch and octave smoothly. It reminded me of a melodic whale song.
And pretty soon, I can feel my sleep deprivation catching up. It becomes harder and harder to hold onto my train of thoughts as the melody of Rocky’s song continues to echo all around the room.
xxx
Rocky can hear Grace’s heartrate finally slow down as the human falls asleep. It continues the song to its finish– the ending words using the same variation as was known in its cluster. The tale was one of lost pebbles finding their way back from high cliffs after journeying out to find heat to bring back to their cluster. As the pebbles inevitably get separated, they begin calling out to one another– the strength of their voices and faith in one another finally reuniting them.
It was one of Rocky’s favorite stories, one that was passed down through its cluster line. It was a story of hope and principles of Eridians, and while Rocky did not believe certain magical aspects of the story, being an Eridian of science and all, the story still held a special place in its memory. Perhaps one day Rocky would be able to sing it to its own pebbles with Adrian.
It hoped that Adrian would still want Rocky as its mate. Over 443 Eridian years would have passed by the time that Rocky and Grace arrived back at Erid. It would not be surprising if Adrian had moved on and selected another mate. Rocky wouldn’t be angry. At least Rocky would still have Grace.
The human had started lightly snoring. It reminded Rocky of how pebbles back home would attempt to thrum together– their melodies and chords too disjointed to properly harmonize. Some pebbles would stay in an octave too high, others too low.
Pulling its attention away from older memories, Rocky quietly steps over to its airlock and moves to its tunnel. It crawls up the tunnel line leading to the nest above Grace’s nest, where its modified thinking machine apparatus sat.
One of Rocky’s first projects once it and Grace had settled on their journey to Erid was the construction of a smaller hull robot that would be compatible with Grace’s atmosphere. Through its screen monitoring device and use of the robot, Rocky could use the thinking machine without any help.
It pulls up the information database it had been listening to earlier. Reading the human language was getting easier day by day. Understanding Grace, too. Rocky quickly learned that inputting its own pidgin-style human language would still yield results helpful for its questions. The articles and texts on a subject called ’psychology’ provided Rocky with answers to Grace’s change in behavior.
Most days, Grace would refuse to sleep or eat, instead opting to run around the Hail Mary exhausting itself on projects that could wait. Other days, Grace could barely get up from its nest and would not complete the daily tasks it assigned itself. On such days, Rocky took over. It had figured that this was the problem of Grace’s refusal to take care of itself, that the stupid was compounding as Grace continued its poor habits.
Then, Rocky read about something called “neglectful hurt and sad,” (at least, that was the closest resemblance to a translation Rocky could find) where humans’ brain health declined so much that they would stop their optimal functioning. Rather than physical or internal symptoms, this behavior presented social and emotional changes, all of which aligned with Grace’s recent behaviors. Grace’s compounding stupidity seems to have originated from the stress of their entire mission, Rocky concludes. Rocky had learned that humans were not built to sustain such a level of stress for so long, to the point where their brains became chronically exhausted and would try to find alternative ways to stop the emotional pain. Even when they hurt for long periods of time, humans’ brains were designed to problem solve.
Humans astounded Rocky– they had from the first time Rocky met Grace. How did a species with such a short lifespan manage to accomplish so much? According to Grace, much trial and error. In Rocky’s opinion, perhaps it was the short lifespan that allowed them to progress. With so little time, humans could not spend their time thinking their way through their problems, unlike Eridians and their careful planning. humans had to act quickly and decisively, which led to much disaster and accomplishment alike. Rocky thinks that Eridian society could probably learn something from humans in this sense.
Rocky pulls itself back from this vein of thought and returns back to its research. The more it read, the better Rocky would be able to help Grace. They just had to make it to Erid. Then things would finally be okay.
xxx
I am at my wit’s end. The damn seeds should have germinated by now. I should see at least one little sprout poking out of a pot.
To be fair, at least it looks like two seeds have started growing roots– one of each. I can spot a particularly long radicle descending from one of the bok choy pots, but it’s been plenty of time. According to Wikipedia and other plant websites I’ve read through, bok choy seeds only took 10 days maximum to germinate. The celery would take at least another week. Damn it.
I shake my head and step away from the little gardening area. I glance across the room to check on Rocky, and yep, he’s still working away at his little workbench. Rocky had been working on some project for the past two weeks, one that he refused to share with me. It was odd, since they usually shared most things with each other, but Rocky was allowed to have his privacy if he wanted it. I wondered if what Rocky was making had to do with food, and perhaps that’s why the Eridian was being so cagey about it. When I had asked, all Rocky said was–
‘Rocky make, is for better life quality.’
‘Quality of life,’ I corrected him. Old teacher habits died hard.
‘Same thing. Why Grace repeat, question?’
“I can hear you standing there,” Rocky pipes up without pausing his work. “Grace need help, question?”
“No no,” I replied, putting my hands on my hips. “Just deciding on what to do next.”
“Do Not Go Crazy Room,” Rocky replies. “Grace watch movie, Rocky listen.”
“Oh, um…” I start, “You don’t have to pause what you’re doing to come with me… Plus you can hear it from here, right?”
“No.” Rocky sets his tools down. “I mean yes, Rocky can hear. I hear all of ship all time.”
“Gross,” I mutter under my breath, shuddering at the reminder of my own complete lack of privacy. It was harder to be embarrassed when we were racing against the clock to save two planets but now time was abundant.
“Yes, Grace is leaky and disgust,” Rocky retorts. His words were biting but from the way his carapace is positioned and the lighter pitch in his voice tell me he’s joking. “I mean Rocky will come with Grace to hear movie. Bring ball. Bring tools. Work while listening. ”
“Okay,” I shrug, getting a sneak suspicion that this was the Eridian’s way of entertaining my boredom. But I wasn’t going to complain about getting some company. I start walking over to the ‘Don’t Go Crazy’ room but pause after a few steps. “Maybe I should teach you some more English grammar. You don’t have to refer to yourself in the third person all the time.”
“Yes, Grace teach Rocky,” the Eridian makes a shooing gesture. “Go choose movie, Rocky grab tools first.”
Rocky isn’t sure if it’s being too obvious in its efforts to cheer Grace up. First had been cleaning and organizing Grace’s things around the ship, which meant creating another arm robot that could be used from inside its tunnels and walls. This allowed Rocky to finally tame the human’s living and workspace into some semblance of order.
The second thing was improving Armando’s programming. This project had been done entirely secretly, unbeknownst to Grace. After studying up on human coding– which was shockingly similar to more primitive Eridian programming– Rocky had managed to create and input comfort procedures into the bot. Now, Armando would be able to recognize signs of human stress (or at least the ones that Grace would typically express) and provide assistance or guidance. According to the articles Rocky had been reading about on its thinking machine, Grace needed more support– not just from Rocky, but from peers and others around it. That wasn’t really an option in the great silence of space, so Rocky figured that Armando was the second best. Grace had named the robot, after all. Humans would attempt to create a social circle when they lacked one. It was fascinating. In all of Rocky’s years on its ship alone, it had never thought to begin speaking to the ship robots as a way of coping with the isolation.
By the time Rocky has made it into the movie room, Grace is lying on the ground on its side with a pillow underneath its upper right arm. It sets its tools down on the floor of its ball and resumes its work. Grace doesn’t acknowledge its entrance, just stares at the screens.
“What movie did Grace choose?” Rocky tries to continue its work in a nonchalant manner as it focuses its attention towards Grace. “I does not hear any human speech.”
“It’s a video of the ocean,” Grace replies. “I wanted to see the waves again.”
Rocky grabs its light sensing device and points it up at the screens. The image that Grace chose to view is not unfamiliar to Rocky. In fact, Grace had shown it to Rocky multiple times before. The video reminded Grace of home, it had said. Rocky had reflected on the idea of a water based ocean, astonished at the frigid levels that lifeforms could exist in.
“Grace like hear waves, question?” Rocky gently taps the side of its ball as it always did when asking Grace about anything.
“Yeah, I do…” Grace smiles a little, though Rocky can still sense that there was more that Grace wasn’t letting on.
“When Grace and Rocky arrive at Erid, scientists will create big waves for Grace,” Rocky reassures it. “So Grace can always hear. And see.”
“That would be amazing, Rocky…” Something in the human’s voice twists and cracks. Rocky notices its heart rate speed up a little. Then Rocky hears the fluid leaking out of Grace’s eyes.
Rocky’s mind brings it back to the articles it had read about human stress. Ways to calm and help humans through their stress included primarily for Rocky to stay calm, providing physical touch (Rocky was still working on fixing that problem), helping the human with taking care of its needs, and validating their emotions.
“Grace feel sad, question?” Rocky pushes its ball closer to Grace, so that it was within Grace’s arm range. “Grace want hug, question?” It presses its carapace against the xenonite walls.
“Yes.” Its voice is broken– there was no other way to describe it. Grace’s voice, so often full of excitement, strong in its notes and sharp with its words, was broken. Rocky needed to fix it. Grace lets out a choked sob and wraps its two upper arms around the ball.“I love you, Rocky.”
“Rocky love Grace, statement. Love love love Grace.”
Grace pushes out another heaving sound. Fluid is dripping all over Grace’s clothing and Rocky’s ball but it didn't mind. The two of them stay like that for a while, so long that Rocky stops counting the seconds and tries to simply enjoy the ‘moment.’ Staying with the human for so long had that effect on Rocky, it seemed.
When Grace finally does pull away, it leans its head and left shoulder against the xenonite wall. Its heart rate has gone back down, to Rocky’s relief.
“I’m never going to see an Earth ocean ever again.”
“What sentence mean, question?” Rocky was confused. “Grace is look right now.”
It points an arm towards the screen that Grace faces.
“No… I mean see it in person, actually be there,” Grace explains. “It’s different, you know? You can actually smell the salt in the air and feel the breeze on your skin.”
Rocky pauses, shifting its carapace for a few moments.
“Grace miss home,” it finally states, sinking a bit. “Grace want to go back home, statement.”
“I-,” Grace suddenly turns to Rocky. “No! It’s not what you think. I don’t want to leave you, I swear. I’m not going to do that to you. I promise.” It presses one of its hands, digits spread out against the flexible part of the xenonite.
Rocky presses one of its own hands against where Grace’s hand meets the material.
“I’m not going to leave you.”
“Rocky know,” Rocky opens its claws a bit using one to run up and down the flat part of Grace’s hand, simply feeling. “Rocky know Grace will not leave Rocky. Grace love Rocky very much. Grace also love Earth very much. Is difficult.”
“I… I just feel so selfish,” Grace tentatively plays back with Rocky’s claw, pressing two of its digits around one and gently pushing them together. “I was supposed to die in space. I thought I had made my peace with it. I made my choice to turn from Earth, and I would do it again in a heartbeat.”
“Grace speak, question?” Rocky tries to prompt the human to keep speaking. It sensed there was more to this than just the human’s ‘survivor’s guilt,’ as the thinking machine had put it.
“...It’s hard, when I know I won’t ever be back at Earth before I die. I want to be at a beach again, I want to feel the wind and the shoreline again. Part of me would rather die than never see it again.”
Rocky waits patiently for Grace to finish talking before it speaks again, trying to maintain a calm ‘demeanor,’ as those articles had put it.
“Rocky half understand. When last of Rocky’s crewmates die, I thought Rocky would never be at Erid again, never listen to Adrian again. Rocky thought Rocky would die in space, alone. Wished to be with Adrian again. Wished Rocky had said more before leaving.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you, Rocky.” Grace drops its hand once more, returning to its earlier position. “You didn’t deserve that, none of you did.”
“But Rocky will see Adrian again, because of Grace. Rocky no understand all Grace sad, but Rocky can help,” Rocky declares, nudging its ball closer even more. Grace slings an arm over the ball. “Scientists can re-fuel ship, Grace can go home. Grace can see beach, Grace hear waves.”
“I don’t know about that… not that I’m doubting your scientists’ abilities, but…” Grace doesn’t finish its sentence. “Did I ever tell you how long humans live?”
It comes out as a whisper, but Rocky can hear it loud and clear.
“No, but Rocky read on machine.” Rocky taps the ball to let Grace continue.
“Yeah, so the average age humans live to is around 70-90 years,” Grace states. “I’m 35 right now and will be 38 by the time we arrive at Erid. Even if you refuel Mary, even if I have enough food to keep me alive til I reach Earth… Everyone I know will be…”
Rocky does some quick math. That would mean that nearly half of Grace’s lifespan would be over by the time they got to Erid. And if Grace left immediately after refueling its ship, it would only have a third of its life left to be on Earth.
“Grace’s friends older than Grace, question? Die sooner, question?”
“I mean yeah, but there’s also the whole impending ice age and food war problem that would have happened by now. It’s possible that- that many people I know may already be gone.”
Now it’s Rocky’s turn to be agitated. It tries to suppress a keen but a warble slips out, still within Grace’s hearing range.
“Grace lose friends, lose home, lose life,” Rocky stomps its claws on the floor of its ball. “No no no, not okay, statement. Human lives too short. Is not enough.”
“I got to meet you. I would do it all again even if it ended up like this.”
Rocky lets some heat out of its vents. It helps a little.
“Grace is brave.”
Grace makes a motion that Rocky doesn’t understand. It laughs a little. Rocky doesn’t understand.
“Not as brave as you.”
xxx
I sniff the container once more. Eugh. I know my face is wrinkling up in disgust, but I can practically taste the slime off of the Taumoeba.
Come on, Ryland, I think to myself, you’ve survived worse things before.
I take a deep breath as I bring the bowl to my mouth. Before I can lose the nerve, I tip the bowl in and take a mouthful of the grey goop.
There isn’t exactly a strong taste, which is a positive… The texture, though… Imagine swallowing a living fish, only that it’s held together by soggy strings that don’t separate as you try to gulp it down.
I repress a gag as I swallow it down and set the container back on the floor of the dorm, pressing its lid over the top to seal it. The Taumoeba leaves a filmy and slightly bitter aftertaste in my mouth.
“Armando,” I cough as the last of the Taumoeba makes its way down the hatchet. “Digestive scan, please.”
One of the robot arms extends down towards me, emitting a low red light for a few moments.
“Digestive system intact. Reduced caloric intake identified. Increase intake to avoid starvation.”
The arm retracts and comes back a moment later, handing me a pouch of what seems to feel like rice and another that is more liquidy. Another arm descends to give me water. I gladly take the water but set the meals aside. “Thank you, Armando, that’ll be all.”
I needed to ration my actual solid, nutrient rich meals. Between the math Rocky and I have done in the past few weeks, I should have started eating at least one Taumoeba meal yesterday. But between the stress of getting us on the right track and some other ship repairs, I hadn’t even tried it until today. Rocky insists we wait until I fully digest the Taumoeba and do a full checkup on the effects it has on my body before I switch to a regular partial Taumoeba diet. And I’m not complaining about waiting to start on this aspect of my ‘don’t die’ project.
The texture alone– it almost reminds me of those cups of slime that students used to bring in when I first started teaching– some would be thick and make odd squelching noises, others would be almost water-like in appearance yet remain still in your hands. I often had to confiscate those in class, it became too much of a distraction. But I’d return them by the end of the period– even I couldn’t stop the black market trade of slime that had taken over the school for those few years if I had tried.
At least the Taumoeba wasn’t immediately poisoning me. Not that I would expect it to, anyhow. Between all the tests that Rocky and I have run on the organism, there would be nothing in there to suggest I’d develop any weird alien diseases. If anything, the fact that there was so little was the main problem. The little container was a concentrated form of Taumoeba– with as much water taken out so that I could get all the nutrients I needed as quickly as possible. Dehydration wasn’t going to be my main problem. Lack of Vitamin B, D, E, and K were the bigger issues.
Hopefully my crops will at least compensate for some Vitamin C and A deficiency, though that was optimistic. It wasn’t like they would magically regrow fast enough for me to get enough in at a time.
I hear Rocky climbing down his tunnel over to me. First, three of his limbs appear from the ceiling, gripping the small handles he had fastened so long ago. Then his carapace follows, then his last two legs.
“Grace done eating, question?”
“Sometimes I don’t know why you ask,” I answer. “You already know. You probably heard the grosser parts of it.”
Rocky waves an arm in dismissal. The human gesture almost brings a smile to my face. We were clearly rubbing off on each other. Even I had started tapping whatever surface was near me when I’d ask him questions.
“Is social custom,” Rocky smoothly replies. “On Erid, nests often soundproof for privacy.”
“Oh, so you don’t have to hear each other eating all the time?”
“Yes,” Rocky makes his way down to his bunk, though instead of sitting atop it like he normally does, he crawls into the space underneath it to be closer to me. I reach a hand out and tap the xenonite barrier above me. “Erid also have… need word… place for many to eat in silence.”
“I’m not sure we have something like that,” I reply, wracking my brain. “Maybe cafeteria? But the whole point of it is to eat with each other… I guess there are some solo dining experiences you can find across the globe, soooo…. ‘Solo cafeteria’?”
“Half good,” Rocky responds. His way of saying I wasn’t quite on the mark. “Solo cafeteria common at Erid. For Eridians with no family and no mate to watch them sleep after. Has watchers for alone Eridians.”
“Oh so like a bed-and-breakfast,” I shrug. “Or I guess it’d be a ‘breakfast-and-bed,’ for you guys.”
I am not a linguist. Maybe Stratt should’ve sent one up here as well. I reach for my laptop and pull up the translation software. We hardly used it these days, now that both of us were pretty fluent in each other’s languages. But the program was still helpful for moments like these. I also pull up a folder I had started about a week into our journey– notes on Eridians. My plan was to add to it every time I learned something new about Eridians and their culture, hoping to build it up and get it sent to Earth before I died so that at least someone would get the opportunity to study them in the future. That was, assuming that the beetles make it back to Earth before society has collapsed and everyone’s killed each other.
“Earth has similar?” Rocky perks up a little. “Grace said eating is social enjoyment.”
His tone is joking, but I can sense the curiosity underneath.
“Well, we have these things called ‘hotels,’” I explain. “They are like temporary homes for humans that are travelling long distances. Some big hotels serve food as an additional service. But usually you get a room to yourself and there are people who will help clean up after you to make sure everything is tidy.”
“Human to watch you sleep, question?”
“No, not really…” my mind drifts to other services that humans provided each other, but if I wanted to have a conversation about sex work with Rocky I would have started it a different way. “But bed and breakfasts are smaller hotels, where there’s less hustle and bustle. They’re usually more cozy and quiet.”
“Quiet good, sometimes,” Rocky observes. “Even for bad human hearing.”
“Yeah. I think you’d like them, Rocky. It has a more community feel to it, like the people who work there actually really care about you.”
“Hotel not care, question? Humans give place to sleep and food, statement. How not care, question?”
Oh boy. We were hurtling towards another conversation I didn’t want to have. But I couldn’t avoid this forever, I guess.
“Well, bigger hotels are run by big companies,” I explain, making careful choice of my wording. “But you have to pay them for these services. It’s an equal exchange, bartering, like you do on Erid. Bed and breakfasts are usually run by one to four people and are typically less expensive.”
“On Erid, only barter for wants. Not needs,” Rocky replies, a bit shocked. “Earth is not same, question?”
“Yeah. I mean, it depends on the country you live in, but most humans have to pay for everything– food, water, electricity, housing. Not to mention health insurance…” I trail off, remembering my shoebox of an apartment back in San Francisco. I loved the city, but living there was not cheap on a teacher’s salary.
“Humans stupid.” I swear Rocky is pouting. “Easier to care and fix needs for all. Barter for needs… how do human get things to barter?”
Whoo boy, explaining how employment works is difficult when the listener is a being that doesn’t understand the concept of currency or capitalistic greed. I try to describe it as best I can, though we ultimately end up diving into wealth disparities and poverty. It’s hard to trick Rocky when his math is so much better than mine.
At least we added more to the translation software. And I got to hear a bit more about how labor is divided on Erid. It wasn’t the utopian world I had originally thought it was, but what struck me as the strongest tether that kept Erid running was its principles of community and kindness. It was woven into their society, from their education system to their pseudo-government to their daily interpersonal interactions. These principles did technically exist on Earth, but they did so to a much lesser and discriminating extent. The Eridians were living in the future.
“Humans with not enough money. Means many poor humans difficult to live, question?”
“Yeah,” I nod slowly. “We don’t really have the amazing society you guys have going on.”
“You difficult to live at Earth, question?!” Rocky’s carapace shoots up, nearly hitting the top of his bunk. His arms point at me as he repeats the question. “You barter for needs, question? For food, question? You difficult to live, question?!”
“Well, uh,” I try to interject but he keeps getting worked up. “I wasn’t struggling to survive, but yeah I had to pay for food, just like all other humans–”
“Earth stupid! Humans stupid! Stupid stupid stupid. No care!” He’s pacing around the shallow basin of space now, voice growing steadily higher and higher. “This why Earth send Grace in space with not enough fuel, question? Earth is no care?!”
“Listen, listen,” I raise my hands in mock surrender. “I get that this is really upsetting, but you don’t have to worry about it.”
He stills. I swear I can feel his (nonexistent) stare boring into my soul.
“I did have to pay, er– barter, to survive on Earth.” I can tell he’s about to let out one of those shrill screeches again. “But! But, I wasn’t the worst off. I was actually pretty lucky to live where I was. But it’s kind of just a part of life, on Earth. Your spot in life is partially luck with where you’re born. It’s the way it’s always been, so everyone on Earth is used to it.”
“Earth not caring is not why I’m here. That was more the fuel problem than carelessness,” I pause, adding, “Though it does feel like it sometimes, especially when first I woke up.”
“‘Way always done,’ stupid logic,” Rocky simply states. “Erid similar in past. Force clans to fight to survive. But Eridians smart. Learn teamwork better for all. Learn sharing better for all.”
“I agree with you there,” I let out the nervous chuckle I had been holding. “Earth is not fully there yet. Maybe it will be, eventually.”
Rocky stomps on the xenonite barrier a few more times before finally settling. “Rocky sad. Earth is… is… need word.”
“Describe it to me.”
“To intentionally hurt other, when no necessary. Choose to attack other, choose to hurt other,” Rocky chirps out softly.
“I think you’re thinking of the word ‘cruel.’”
“Earth force Grace to barter for needs, Earth is cruel.”
xxx
Rocky is almost done with its surprise project for Grace. The human would likely be upset if it knew the amount of raw xenonite Rocky had used to build it, but Rocky knew that Grace would be grateful for its innovation soon enough. Keeping Grace alive until they reached Erid was of the utmost importance. Aside from getting the Taumoeba transported safely. But there wasn’t much Rocky could do to deal with that goal right now. Rocky could, however, work on helping Grace.
The human was getting suspicious, Rocky knew. Rocky had noticed the subtle glances that the human would throw at it whenever Rocky was working on its latest project. After installing two more airlocks– one in the dormitory, another closer to the control room– Rocky knew it couldn’t keep up the pretense much longer. Grace hadn’t made many comments about the new additions, thankfully.
Rocky waits for the human to sleep once more– humans were so inefficiently designed, needing to sleep all the time– before it scampers up its tunnel and out of the dormitory. It felt a sting of guilt at the thought of leaving Grace alone while it was sleeping, but Rocky was getting better at keeping track of the human’s heart rate from afar now. It could hear Grace’s breath from almost anywhere in the ship. Still, Rocky could hear its family’s voices reprimanding it for breaking one of the most precious rules on Erid– leaving a sleeping Eridian after promising to be its watcher.
Rocky tries to deafen the guilt by being extra quick with putting the suit on. Unfortunately, given its special design, the xenonite suit is to be worn one piece at a time– first its five arms, then the lower half of its carapace, lastly the top. The pieces click together easily, metal alloys sealing with one another upon interaction. It was an engineering marvel, sure, but chemistry also played a big role in the form fitting suit. That was what had taken Rocky so long to figure out the suit. Building a form fitting xenonite suit was easy enough, all it took was breaking down each section smaller to allow for better movement. Being able to get in and out of the suit without potential leaks– that was another beast. It took over a week of testing before Rocky could synthesize the right elements together to create a suit that would not immediately rupture in Grace’s cold atmosphere. As well as one that would not lock Rocky into the suit forever.
But Rocky had a breakthrough a few Earth days ago. Now the suit was ready to be tested and used. Today was going to be the day to show it off to Grace! Rocky would test the suit quickly up in the lab before moving back to the dormitory.
The suit fits fine so far. Remaining in its own atmosphere for the first few minutes, Rocky flexes two of its arms to test the stretch of the xenonite alloy. Nothing ripped or shattered. It had to suppress a trill of delight. Now it could move to the airlock and try it in Grace’s atmosphere.
The first few moments, though Rocky would never admit it to Grace, were frightening. Rocky’s perfect memory had permanently burned the pain of the first (and last) time Rocky had gone into Grace’s atmosphere in Rocky’s carapace. It had a large crack along the top of its carapace to prove it.
After a few minutes of testing the suit and climbing all over the lab, Rocky is satisfied. It crawls back into its tunnels and promptly darts down towards the dormitory.
Grace is muttering in its sleep when Rocky arrives, and it slows down to not wake the human. Rocky climbs into the airlock attached to the wall and waits those few agonizing minutes as it cycles.
Then– Rocky finally steps out, one hand grabbing onto the ladder it had seen Grace use. Success!
Now all Rocky had to do was wait for Grace to wake up to its newest surprise.
I was floating. I was in my EVA suit. I look down at my huge, gloved hands. There is no tether, but that strangely does not bother me at the moment. I’m simply floating. There is no sky, there are no stars, no planets. It is neither light nor dark.
I try to move. The problem with moving in zero gravity and with no tether was that you ended up pawing at nothing. Nothingness. That’s what was around me.
I hear chatter. I turn around, looking for the origin of the sound. It’s above me. I try to move up. Nothing happens.
Now I was starting to panic. I was stuck here. How long had I been here? An eternity?
Who was speaking? And why did I recognize that voice?
“-until 5PM to decide.”
Stratt. What was she doing here?
I am limitless. I am boundless. I am trapped. I am frozen.
I am isolated. There is no up. No down. No direction.
I’m sitting in front of Stratt, guilt and shame flooding out of me like a cut artery as I explain my choice. My selfishness.
“Don’t make this harder than it is.”
I am running. I am running with no idea of where I am going. All I know is I need to get out of here. I run and run and run.
I am not moving.
I am sprinting towards a chain link fence, and there are voices shouting behind me. Angry. Commanding.
I am on the ground, screaming and shouting and thrashing. I cry and beg for mercy. My face is pressed into the dirt and my arms are forced behind me. As though I am being arrested. Nothing works.
I am being killed. I taste dirt in my mouth and feel a pinprick in the back of my neck.
I see Carl’s face. He is speaking words I don’t hear.
I am dying.
I see Stratt, orange hair bobbing as she stops next to Carl. She isn’t angry or sad. She simply stares at me with something indescribable in her eyes.
I am dead. I have been killed. I am in hell, if it even exists.
“-a coward. If you cared one bit about those kids-”
The sky crawls away as my limbs grow heavy.
I am nothing.
I am… lying on my back. It’s too hot. My limbs forget how to move and I panic for a brief second. Was I paralyzed? Am I in a new purgatory?
My own shuddering breath pushes me out of my semi-conscious spiral. I am heaving and sobbing. I roll over to my side, pushing myself half up to a sitting position. I’m vaguely aware of the nanny bot’s arms waving around me. Two distinct languages overlap in a cacophony of sound and confusion.
I press my hands to my face, wiping my eyes but not daring to open them. The wetness on my cheeks tell me that I have been crying for a while.
I hear a high note that morphs into a hiss halfway through. The English I previously heard goes silent. So do the arms.
I hear some tapping, though it’s not the kind I’m used to. It’s not the typical sound of Rocky’s scuttling in his tunnel or the clunks of his ball. It’s softer, muffled even.
I finally open my eyes. The lights in the dormitory are low. And there, standing right in front of me, out of his ball and tunnel, is–
“Rocky?” I croak out.
“Grace awake!” His feet tap as he scrambles up to climb the bed. “Grace have nightmare, question?” A gentle claw is tentatively pressed to my arm.
“Yeah…” I try to collect my thoughts and do a double take. “Wait, what is that?”
He’s encased in xenonite, though the texture looks a little off from what I’m used to. Rather than clear, pristine triangular panes, the xenonite almost looks woven. It creates a slight visual distortion, but that’s the least important thing on my mind right now.
“Is new suit,” Rocky says, doing a little spin, stepping between my legs. “Rocky make. Now Rocky can touch Grace. I come up. Give Grace comfort.”
He’s leaning against me before I can properly process his words. He moves closer and seems to settle for nestling next to my stomach.
I wrap my arms around him. The heat was nice. The contact was better. Warmth builds up in my chest. I recognize the feeling of being cared for in my heart. Not cognitively or emotionally– no, Rocky and I had well crossed that threshold a long time ago. But the little primitive, primal voice in me is soothed with this touch. It is finally happy, after nearly a year of being the only human around, it now thinks that I am not alone.
This thought summons more tears to my eyes. God, I really was touch-starved, wasn’t I? Thank God for Rocky. I couldn’t have asked for a better friend.
xxx
After witnessing that particular nightmare (I’d had them before but apparently never screamed in my sleep), Rocky seems to be more alert and attentive with me. This means that I get practically unlimited affection. Hugs and physical reassurance before bed, when I wake up, basically anytime I ask for it. Rocky is not as quick to anger and is more patient with dealing with my silly human needs. He even starts watching me eat at least once a day, seeming to get over his aversion to the process. Part of me feels guilty at the idea of making him worry this much about my health. The other part of me is too happy to care.
In all fairness, I did tell him not to worry about my health too much and asked where this newfound helicopter parenting was coming from. He had only replied with– “Rocky need to make sure Grace safe healthy for Erid.”
Which of course made me tear up and led to yet another hug session.
Rocky’s plot seems to be working so far. The implementation of its new comfort touch suit (as it referred to the piece in its mind) was going all according to plan. Grace’s mood had increased dramatically– it had been sleeping longer and was less cranky in the morning. It didn’t refuse meals as often.
Still, there was something that was bothering Rocky. Grace had said things while sleeping before, but they had always been nonsensical mutterings. Sometimes Rocky caught some words it knew– those were typically phrases that involved science or (presumably) Grace’s former class of pebbles. But there were phrases and words that Rocky didn’t understand. Those were the ones that Grace would sometimes call out, fearful warbling in its voice. Or when it keened and shook around.
The amount of fear and disturbance Grace seemed to experience when it spoke those words had been relatively low– Grace had said that humans tended to move around and sometimes speak during their sleep cycle. But this most recent sleep cycle had frightened Rocky on multiple levels. Grace had let out wails and cries so loud, it had shocked both Rocky and Armando. Its heart rate had rocketed up in such a short time, liquid leaking from its light sensors as its breathing organs fluctuated with a staccato rhythm. There was so much terrible sound, so discordant and jarring, that when Grace went horrifyingly still again, Rocky almost let out its own cry of despair as its mind immediately went back to those last few days on its ship.
But then Grace had startled awake and Rocky’s worst fear was vanquished in an instant. Everything was fine. It was a nightmare.
Just a nightmare? Grace had explained those as the negative form of a sleep-hallucination, when the mind creates fake scenarios for humans to experience while their brains cleaned itself. But Grace had also said that sometimes the hallucinations involved memories. Even ones that their brains had seemingly forgotten.
It would have been all so incredibly fascinating to learn, if Rocky was not still so worried. The words that Grace had screamed out were not new. Rocky had heard them muttered or spat out before during previous sleep cycles, but Grace always seemed to be fine afterwards. This time was different. Grace was very clearly shaken and frightened when it woke up. If these sleep-hallucinations were truly made up, why would Grace repeat the same words over and over across multiple sleep cycles?
So Rocky tries to do what it does best– figure out the information it needs to fix the problem. Then fix the problem with said information. The first idea that had popped into its mind was to consult Grace itself. When Rocky mentions the nightmare, however, it is quickly shut down as Grace gives an evasive answer that explains nothing. How was it that humans could speak with so many words and yet say so little?
The next idea Rocky has luckily does not require Grace. The thinking machine. Rocky loves its thinking machine. It provided another source of information on humans without having to consult Grace itself. As Rocky suspected, Grace was not the epitome of cultural openness and exchange that it tried to be. After all, Rocky was not as forthcoming about certain Eridian cultural practices and customs when it first met Grace. It made sense.
But what Rocky finds are many odd articles about dreams and nightmares, each with conflicting information to the previous one. It seemed like humans were just as confused about their nightly hallucinations as Rocky was. It lets out a frustrated grumble.
Rocky returns to the psychology articles. Perhaps these hallucinations also had to do with human behavior. It affected their moods after sleep cycles, didn’t it?
Rocky is thankful for the thinking machine.
“Grace have time talk, question?” Rocky’s voice glides one word into another.
"Mhm," I mumble, continuing to mess around with a new program on my computer. With any luck, it would allow me to speak Eridian! I’m not exactly savvy when it comes to music but months of hearing Rocky speak has trained my ear. I’ve got about less than four years until we reach Erid, so with any luck I’ll be able to speak directly to Eridians without Rocky’s translation help. If the situation should arise, that is.
Good job, anxiety! We will truly be prepped for any possible catastrophic disaster situation. Unless we forget about another possibility.
“Grace.” Rocky’s voice snaps me out of my thinking train. I stand up, striding over to where he stands in his form fitting suit.
“Yeah, sorry about that, bud. Got lost in thought.”
“How get lost, question? Grace right here, statement.”
“It’s an expression.”
“Human language weird.”
I chuckle as I sit down by Rocky. He seems content to settle right in this spot in the middle of the room. To be fair, anything was a sitting surface these days. As long as it was mildly comfortable. What I would give for a nice armchair or couch, though…
“Grace. Rocky have… serious… question,” Rocky says. “Rocky… want to help Grace. Ask Grace to tell truth. Not try to protect Rocky.”
I sigh inwardly, praying this isn’t a question about some other gruesome aspect of human history or culture. Rocky had been using that laptop nearly every day. I am waiting for the day he confronts me about humanity’s disgusting past.
“Of course, Rocky,” I promise him. “Did you see something upsetting on the computer?”
“I… Grace…” Rocky pauses, taking his time to think. This was out of the norm. I can’t shake a little spike of anxiety.
Seeming to sense it, Rocky runs a comforting claw over my arm. “Rocky not angry, statement. Rocky only want know truth.”
“Okay…”
“When Grace sleep,” he starts, “Grace say many things. Grace say sleep hallucination experience just fake experience.”
I nod slowly. He continues.
“But Grace repeat same phrases across many sleep cycles. Thinking machine says multiple same nightmare maybe is bad memory.”
I swallow. I know where this is going.
“Last time Grace nightmare, say same thing again. Shout words loud Rocky no understand. Grace wake up scared. Heart rate too fast. Rocky worry worry worry. Is nightmare Grace experience bad memory, question?”
I look away from him. I know it doesn’t really hide me, but I can’t help it.
“Yes, last time was… a memory of a bad bad bad day.” I repeat the words for emphasis.
“Rocky know,” he chirps back, voice lower pitched. “I ask what memory is, question?”
I hesitate for a moment, deciding what to say. Here was the perfect opportunity to spill my guts about the truth. The frog in my throat protests at the idea– He’s going to hate you and despise you. You’re a coward and you always will be, Ryland Grace. You run from academia, you run from every difficult situation you get into, you’ll always be running and running because that’s the piece of shi-
Rocky’s arm rests against my chest, gentle and firm. “Rocky no angry, no matter what is truth, statement.”
He’s careful to not put too much weight on me. The warmth and pressure pull me out of my spiral. I take a deep breath and look at him.
“You know how I told you a while ago that I didn’t know why I was in space?”
“Yes.”
“I remember it now.”
“Grace happy Grace remember, question?” Rocky asks tentatively.
“I– it’s complicated,” I answer back unhelpfully. “I know who I was now. Who I am.”
I put a hand on the arm Rocky has on me, stroking it as I muster the courage to confess, finally.
“I was one of the leading researchers on the Project. A few days before we were set to launch, there was an accident. The scientists that were intended for the mission were killed.”
Rocky lets out a mournful croon. His claw drops but I still hold it. He lets me.
“They had less than a week to find a replacement. I was the most qualified person with the coma resistant gene. I knew a lot about Astrophage and how it works. So I was the obvious choice.”
I pause, glancing at Rocky once more. At this point in stories, he typically interjects with a comment or something. He is silent, tilting his carapace to tell me to keep speaking. So I do.
“They… Stratt gave me three hours to decide if I was going to go or not. It didn’t matter in the end. I was going whether I wanted to or not.”
I take a breath and close my eyes.
“I knew that billions of people would be saved if I went. I knew that I would be saving my kids if I went. And I said no. I turned them down.”
“I chose to be selfish, instead of a hero. I chose to cling to the life I had on Earth. That’s why… I’m not brave. I’m not selfless, like you, Rocky. Not like the rest of your crew. Not like the rest of mine.” I can’t stop now. Not after starting. “I tried to run once I figured out that they weren’t going to take no for an answer. They put me into a coma, threw me on the ship, and I woke up on the Hail Mary.”
Alone. I drop my hand from Rocky’s wringing my sleeve with it.
“They… gave me a drug. It induced my amnesia. So that I wouldn’t sabotage the mission out of spite. They figured that I would get in too deep into the mission that by the time I remembered, I would finish it regardless. They were right. Stratt was right.”
Rocky waits a few more moments to be sure I’m finished talking. Or maybe the weight of my confession is still setting in.
“They… force Grace to big sleep, question?” Rocky’s voice is brittle– as brittle as the tune he speaks can be.
I nod, looking away. Rocky pads closer to me.
“They force Grace to go on mission, statement.”
“Yes.”
“When Grace remember, question?” Rocky pats my arm comfortingly.
“About a week after we went our separate ways. I was going to induce a coma for the trip back and it just hit me.”
Something weird happens next. Rocky doesn’t say anything, but I swear I can hear something akin to a tea kettle singing coming from him. He just walks away from me and I sit there, curled into myself, wallowing in my own self hate. After a few moments I hear the hiss of the airlock and I turn, seeing that he’s stepping back into his own atmosphere. Rocky carefully takes off his suit. He stands there, a couple of yards away.
“Grace go to bedroom.”
“What?”
“Rocky make loud noise. Grace go to bedroom. Will hurt Grace ears.”
This doesn’t really answer my question, but I reluctantly obey him.
“Are you… okay?” I ask right before I step down onto the ladder back to the dormitory.
“Grace go.” There’s an odd shake in his voice. Just as my feet meet the soft mats lining the floor, I hear what can only be described as a scream.
A caterwauling cry that thunders throughout the Hail Mary. I cover my ears instinctively, now understanding why Rocky had me come down here. Despite being on the end of the other ship, with the tunnels as extra insulation, the sound pierces through my skull and drowns out anything else. I hear changes in chords and pitch throughout it all but can’t distinguish any specific words. Armando’s arms hand me some foam earplugs and I gladly put them in.
The shrieking goes on for what feels like hours but is more likely about ten minutes. I think to myself about what the possible cultural implications and connotations this behavior could have, as a distraction. It doesn’t work very well.
When it’s finally over, I crawl out of my hidey hole.
Rocky is sitting on the floor, legs spread out beside him as his radiator vents heave out more hot air– almost steam like in appearance. He doesn’t acknowledge me as I squat down next to his tunnel.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m not the person you thought I was,” I say to him, my eyes downcast in the lingering shame. “I’m sorry I lied.”
Rocky’s vents sputter out another bout of gray vapor before he speaks.
“No no no.” He seems to be struggling to speak. Which makes sense, since he’s basically done to his voice what every tantrum throwing toddler has done. “Grace do nothing wrong. Nothing nothing nothing. Rocky need to… express anger.”
“And it’s kind that you already forgive me–”
“Grace do NOTHING wrong,” he interrupts. “Rocky angry not Grace. Rocky angry Earth. Earth humans already cruel. Force Grace to sleep. Is… big crime on Erid.”
Oh.
“Force Grace to go mission, force Grace to go space. Bad bad bad.” He says something else, a word (or words) that I don’t know. “Is crime. Evil evil evil.”
“I knew that I would probably be damning people to death if I didn’t go,” I responded. “And I was selfish. I cared more about my own self preservation than the Earth.”
“No no no. Grace say Grace only have 3 hours to choose. Not enough. Rocky given two Eridian years to choose. Still difficult choice. Still very little time for Eridians. Grace not given enough time. Not enough training. Not enough. No no no.”
I put my head in my hands.
“Grace brave. Very selfless,” he continues. I know he doesn’t have eyes but I can tell he’s looking at me. “Grace do best even when remember Earth cruelty. Grace save stars. Save Earth. Save Erid. Save Rocky. Grace is brave.”
I see. He wasn’t angry about my cowardice. My heart swells at this and it takes all I have in me not to break into tears again. I nod and hug myself with my arms. Rocky seems to notice this as he stands up.
“Rocky need to make sound. On Erid is expression of anger. Grief. Is rare for expression this long. Only for evil evil evil things. For death. Is signal to community… bad bad bad thing occurred.” He makes his way back to the airlock. “Rocky done with expression. Needed atmosphere to say. Done now.”
He makes his way over to me, back in his new suit. He opens his arms out. “Grace hug.”
I wrap my arms around him and that pretty much breaks the dam. He lets out a soft hum, one I can feel vibrating in me. It’s consoling.
“Thank Grace for tell Rocky truth.”