Chapter Text
Grace was drifting in space.
Not exactly in in space, but he had turned on the Hail Mary’s zero-gravity switch, and that was close enough for him.
He floated several feet above the floor of the common area, arms and legs loose, his body slowly rotating with the lazy momentum of someone who had (thankfully) nowhere particularly important to be. A small container of noodles drifted beside him, held in place only by the occasional tap of his fingers, and a fork floated a few inches in front of his face.
Grace had his eyes closed.
He had also, in his opinion, achieved enlightenment.
A noodle drifted toward his mouth.
He tilted his head slightly.
Missed.
The noodle floated past his cheek.
"Left."
Grace moved his head.
"Left."
Another noodle approached.
"Left, left."
Grace opened his mouth and the noodle slipped neatly between his lips. He grinned and caught it between his teeth.
"Ha!"
The familiar series of clicks and trills came from somewhere behind him.
“Was too far right.”
Grace swallowed.
"You're just saying that because I got it."
“Grace stupid and not listen.”
"Excuse me?"
“Grace very stupid.”
"You are a terrible playmate, Rocky."
Rocky clicked indignantly.
“Grace incorrect.”
"Uhuh..” Grace rolled his eyes. “That’s just because you’re biased.”
“Rocky not biased. Rocky is objectively correct.”
Grace snorted, immediately regretting it when a tiny piece of noodle threatened to escape his mouth and float directly into his nose. He spluttered and was once again thankful for the fact that Rocky already thought of him as leaky and disgusting no matter what he did.
"Alright one more."
“Little right.”
Grace turned his head.
“Right.”
He shifted slightly.
“Right.”
"Rocky." Grace warned. Being a teacher had the advantage of knowing when someone tried to mess with you.
“More right.”
"You're doing that on purpose."
“Grace silent and play game.”
Grace opened his eyes and was met with a distinct lack of noodle in front of him.
Rocky was floating several feet away, his many limbs spread comfortably around him as he slowly rotated in place. Without gravity, the Eridian looked even more like a particularly enthusiastic rock someone had thrown into the air and forgotten to retrieve.
Grace smiled.
This had been one of their games on the Hail Mary.
They'd invented it somewhere between Adrian and Erid, back when the ship had still felt impossibly large and the silence outside the windows had still been something Grace hadn't learned to sleep through. They had still been a few years away from their destination and Grace was getting bored.
There really hadn't been much to do.
They'd supervise the taumoeba, obviously. A lot. Too much, probably.
But eventually even Grace had needed something that wasn't astrophage, learning eridian (something he was actually pretty proud of), or wondering whether he and Rocky were going to die horribly before reaching Erid (not so proud of that one).
So they'd started playing.
One of them would close their eyes, and the other would guide them toward something.
Sometimes it was food, sometimes it was a floating inanimate object.
The first time they’d played, disastrously, it had been an empty open can. Grace still had the scar from where the lid had nicked his ring finger.
Rocky insisted that it had been Grace's fault but had obviously been very worried and was practically running around the Hail Mary to find something to stop the bleeding.
Grace disagreed with whose fault it was.
Rocky had said left.
It had not been left.
It had been extremely, catastrophically right.
It took a lot of begging and whining to get Rocky to play again.
"Okay," Grace said, pushing himself gently off the wall and sending himself drifting backward. "Let’s get the fork."
Grace closed his eyes and the ramen container bumped gently against his shoulder.
"Ready."
“Forward.”
Grace extended a hand.
“Forward.”
He wiggled his fingers.
“Little left forward.”
His hand closed around the fork.
"Got it." he exclaimed and opened his eyes in triumph.
Rocky also made a pleased series of clicks.
“Rocky really good at game.”
"Yeah, yeah. Pat on the shoulder for you."
Grace let himself drift again, the fork slowly tumbling between his fingers. For a while, neither of them said anything. There wasn't really any need to.
The Hail Mary was quiet.
Not silent, thankfully never completely silent. There was always the low hum of machinery, the faint cycling of air, the occasional vibration beneath Grace's body but compared to Erid, it felt almost unnatural.
He hadn't realized how much he'd missed it.
Not the ship itself, necessarily.
Just this.
Space and weightlessness. The feeling of having absolutely nothing underneath him.
Erid was beautiful. It really was. Grace had never expected to say that about a place that wasn't Earth, but the planet had grown on him quickly. They made an ocean! An entire ocean and fog-, an enormous biosphere just for him!
And the pebbles.
Grace smiled to himself.
"Hey, Rocky?"
“Yes, question?”
"Did you know Ceylonite tried to sneak early into class yesterday because she thought I lived under the cliff?"
Rocky immediately began clicking which Grace knew to interpret as a giggle.
“Ceylonite very young.”
"I know right? She's been alive for, what, thirty years?"
“That is young for Eridian!”
Grace sighed smile. "You're impossible."
“Grace teaches Pebbles. Grace is also impossible.”
"That's actually pretty fair." he chuckled.
Grace drifted past the ceiling, turned lazily, and pushed himself back toward the center of the room.
"They’re so smart, though."
Rocky quieted while Grace stared at the ceiling.
"The pebbles, I mean." He smiled. "They're able to understand most of the stuff I'm teaching them. Not all of it, obviously. I'm still trying to figure out how to explain around visual cues."
“They are good children.”
"I know. Like-, my children threw glue sticks at each other. They’re probably all my age now..”
“Grace young!”
“You flatter me.” Grace laughed and the sound echoed softly through the cabin.
It was strange.
He'd spent so long wanting to get home.
Now he was on Erid, surrounded by aliens, teaching alien children, helping build a replica of earth physics in a place nobody on earth had or will ever see.
And somehow, he was happy.
Not completely.
He still missed Earth.
He missed people. Real human voices that weren't coming from recordings. He missed food that tasted like something. He missed the stupid little things, like warm touch and sticky fingers reaching for the hem of his pants, he'd never appreciated before.
But he had Rocky.
He had Adrian and the pebbles.
He had a home.
And every once in a while, he had this.
A few hours aboard the Hail Mary with the gravity turned off, nothing demanding his attention, and something to distract his spiraling thoughts with.
Just him and Rocky.
Alone.
Weightless.
Grace floated past the noodle container again.
“You want a turn?”
Rocky clicked.
“Rocky doesn’t have eyes to close. Easy win.”
"Yeah yeah."
And for a little while longer, the universe was very, very quiet until the Hail Mary screamed.
Not literally screamed, although for the first half-second Grace's brain interpreted the sudden alarm as exactly that. A harsh, rising tone tore through the cabin. The lights went red. Then white. Then red again.
"What the-,"
The entire cabin flashed.
A mechanical voice spoke from somewhere overhead.
"WARNING. UNKNOWN OBJECT DETECTED."
Grace stopped dead in the air.
Rocky stopped too.
For one utterly silent second, neither of them moved.
Then the display on the nearest wall flickered to life.
BLIB A DETECTED.
Grace stared.
"...What?"
The warning repeated.
BLIB A DETECTED.
"Oh."
Grace's stomach dropped.
"Oh, that's not good."
Rocky immediately began clicking, the rapid sounds almost lost beneath the alarm.
“Blib A.”
"Yeah."
“Blib A.”
"I heard it."
“Unknown.”
"I know."
“Could be danger.”
"Yes, Rocky, I know!"
Grace kicked off the wall.
Unfortunately, he forgot that the gravity was still off.
Instead of shooting toward the cockpit, he rotated sideways and drifted helplessly toward the ceiling.
"Oh, come on-"
Rocky was having considerably more success.
The Eridian grabbed a handhold and pulled himself forward, limbs scrambling against the walls as he propelled himself through the cabin.
Grace grabbed for another handle and missed.
"Gosh darn-!" He spun and the ramen container bumped into his face. "Ow!"
Rocky clicked sharply.
“Grace stupid.”
"Not now!"
“Grace has to hold the rope.”
"I am aware!"
Grace finally managed to catch the edge of a console and hauled himself around, kicking off toward the cockpit.
The warning lights continued flashing.
BLIB A DETECTED.
The phrase had already become deeply unpleasant.
Grace grabbed another handhold, swung himself around a corner and nearly collided with Rocky.
"Sorry!"
“Grace in way.”
"You were in my way!"
“Rocky going cockpit.”
"Well, so am I!"
They both tried to squeeze through the doorway at once.
Grace's shoulder hit Rocky. Rocky's leg hit Grace's stomach.
"Oof!"
“Grace!”
"Sorry!"
“Move!”
"I am moving!"
They finally tumbled into the cockpit together, Grace grabbing the nearest restraint and Rocky catching the edge of his station.
The stars filled the forward windows and Grace stared at… Nothing.
Just blackness-, stars. In the distance behind them Erid.
No asteroid and no obvious threat. Just… Nothing.
His breathing slowed. "Okay…"
Rocky clicked.
“Where? Grace see, Grace see question?”
"No not yet."
Grace pulled himself toward the main console and slapped the controls awake.The Hail Mary's sensors populated the display and the warning still remained.
BLIB A DETECTED.
"Comeon.. Where are you?"
He tapped the display.
"There's nothing here."
“Something.”
"Well, obviously there's something. The computer says there's something."
“Then find something.”
Grace gave him a look. "Very helpful."
Rocky clicked.
“Rocky always helpful.”
"Sure."
Grace started cycling through the sensors again. Then he stopped.
"...Wait."
Rocky's head turned toward him and Grace stared at one tiny section of the display. There was a fluctuation, so faint that he almost dismissed it as noise.
He enlarged it and the computer reconstructed the signal. Something was there. It wasn’t closing in on them, which was a good thing. Actually.. it wasn’t moving that quickly at all, it looked like it was just floating there.
But definitely there.
A tiny drifting object.
Grace's mouth went dry.
"Rocky."
“Yes. Grace see? Grace find Blib A question?
"Yeah, we've got something."
Rocky moved closer.
“What look like?”
"I don't know."
Grace muted the alarm and enlarged the image again, the shape slowly resolving. He slowly reached out and carefully maneuvered Mary to face in it’s direction
Grace didn't relax yet.
If anything, the sudden silence made the situation feel stranger. The red lights had gone dark, the warning tone had disappeared, and the display no longer loudly insisted that there was a Blip A somewhere nearby. Yet the object itself remained exactly where it had been, drifting slowly against the stars.
Grace stared at it through the cockpit window.
He knew what it was.
"That's a submarine," he said, his voice quiet and disbeliving.
Behind him came a rapid stream of clicks and musical notes.
Grace understood Rocky perfectly well. Normally, he had no trouble following his friend's speech, even without the translator. But Rocky was currently having several thoughts at once, and his words were coming faster than Grace could keep up with.
"Yeah, I know," Grace said, holding up a hand. "I know. New object. Very interesting. But slow down."
Rocky didn't slow down.
Grace sighed and reached for the controls. "Right. Laptop."
He switched on the artificial gravity.
The change was immediate. His weightless body became heavy, and the momentary disorientation was almost enough to make him forget what he was doing. He caught himself against the edge of the console and heaved himself towards the storage compartment.
Behind him, Rocky continued his rapid-fire stream of thoughts.
"I'll be right there!"
Grace pushed open the storage compartment, rummaging through the equipment until his fingers closed around the laptop. He quickly ran back towards the cockpit, clutching the laptop against his chest.
By the time he returned, Rocky had apparently settled on one particular idea.
His speech had slowed into a deliberate series of musical notes. “Grace have radio.”
Grace looked at him.
"You want to establish contact?"
"Yes," Rocky said. "There may be a human inside earth object."
Grace stared at the submarine.
Then he laughed.
Not because the idea was particularly funny, but because the alternative was taking it seriously.
"You want me to try talking to the human inside the sub?"
"Yes."
Grace opened the laptop and brought up the translator. "Rocky, there is no human inside."
Rocky tilted his head.
"Why not question?" the translator chimed up with him.
"Because we're in space."
"Rocky is aware. ♪♬♭♩♫ is also in space."
Grace began typing while he spoke, adding a new entry to the translator.
SUBMARINE
He looked at the word for a moment, then glanced back toward the window.
"A submarine is a water vessel," he explained. "It's designed to operate underwater. It needs water. A lot of water."
"Rocky understand."
"Then you understand why there's no way there can be a person inside that thing."
Rocky considered this.
"Grace is making assumption."
Grace stared at him.
"Yes. I'm making the completely reasonable assumption that an Earth submarine, which is designed to be surrounded by water, cannot somehow be floating around in interstellar space."
"It is currently floating around in interstellar space."
"That's exactly my point."
Rocky looked toward the submarine again.
"Then Rocky Grace should investigate why."
Grace opened his mouth, then stopped.
There was something almost irritatingly reasonable about Rocky's suggestion.
"The fact that it's there doesn't mean there's someone inside."
"No," Rocky agreed. "But Rocky Grace do not know that there is not."
Grace rubbed a hand over his face.
"You're really committed to this."
"Yes. Grace lonely. Grace need another human."
Grace looked back through the window just to avoid facing his friend. Something was really wrong with erdian thinking.
The submarine was still drifting there, impossibly intact. There was no visible damage, no obvious propulsion, no indication of how it had gotten there or how long it had been floating in the void.
Everything about it was wrong.
And yet, somehow, that made Rocky's suggestion less ridiculous.
They had already learned that the universe had a habit of doing things Grace considered impossible.
Grace sighed.
"Okay. Fine."
Rocky's body lifted.
"But we're not assuming there's a person inside," Grace added. "We're not assuming it's even functional. We're just going to see if we can establish contact."
"Agreed."
Rocky sounded way too pleased.
Grace turned back towards the console and began preparing a transmission.
"You know I’m going to say I told you so when nobody answers, don’t you?"
When he found a transmission length that could work Grace looked once more at the impossible submarine drifting beyond the glass.
"All right," he murmured. "Let's if someone's home."