Chapter Text
Grace
I’m in a dark theatre.
The show has not started yet. Or maybe it has come to an end. The curtains are closed and the lights are off. But there is singing in the distance. Something feels final. Melancholic. The choir is rehearsing for the last time.
But for all its sadness there is a certain comfort to it. I should enjoy it, I realise.
It might be the last time I hear those chords.
I wake up.
At least, I think I do.
I’m pretty sure I opened my eyes just now. I blink twice. Yep. Definitely open.
But the world around me is pitch black. For a moment I wonder if I have gone blind in some unfortunate twist of fate, but surely the universe would not be that cruel to me, right?
Right?
…
Anyway, I try to move my arms next.
My fingers twitch in response, which I decide is a good sign. Then my arms follow. As soon as they do it’s as if my brain figures that if I’m aware enough to lift my arms, I should be aware enough to notice the rest as well. A staggering soreness spreads through my body, and a headache rattles my skull.
“Hnnf.”
I bring one hand to my forehead as if touching it would release the pressure hiding behind there. The movement is so slow and uncoordinated that I almost poke myself in the eye. My skin feels hot and clammy, like I’m running a bad fever. Is that why everything is so heavy?
I start to grow concerned. I can’t remember anything. This is not the first time that that has happened, my brain helpfully supplies. Which I think is pretty impressive seeing as someone is currently using it as a drum. Then it all comes back. Waking up on the Hail Mary, astrophage, taumoeba. Rocky.
I lift myself up on my arms. The moment I move, a soft light turns on. It only takes a couple of blinks for the world around me to come into focus. Not blind then. Small mercies.
The room I’m in is not much bigger than the dormitory of the Hail Mary, but it very decidedly is not the Hail Mary. The floor is some type of rock that glints like metal, the walls are see-through with nothing but endless darkness behind them, and the ceiling reaches so high it might as well be the night sky up there. I’m pretty sure that the mattress I’m lying on is the one from my ship though; I can still see remnants of ducttape on it. My quilt is here too, it is crumbled in a heap next to the matrass. I must’ve kicked it off while I was asleep.
So where am I? And how did I get here?
A low screeching sound draws my attention before my fuzzy brain can find the answers to those questions. The wall in front of me has a panel through which a shadow enters. It is low to the ground and clunky, though it moves with surprising ease.
“Rocky?” I croak, my voice hoarse. But my brain already knows that it is not Rocky. They’re just slightly the wrong shape. The Eridian steps into the light and I can see that their carapace is lighter in colour than that of my friend. They croon.
“Grace need not be scared. Grace in safe place.” I’m not scared, simply confused, but it is nice of them to say anyway.
“Am I on Erid?”
It's the only explanation that makes sense. Last thing I remember is being on the Hail Mary, on route to Erid after sending the beetles and saving Rocky. It was a long trip, made worse by my dwindling food supply and resulting malnutrition. The last months I remember were quite terrible actually. I must have passed out near the end of it and missed the landing. Rats. I’m pretty bummed about that actually. It’s not every day you get to see a brand new planet (that is teeming with life!) from the windows of your very own spaceship.
The Eridian doesn’t confirm nor deny as they walk over to me, and I remember that the average Eridian would, in fact, not be able to understand English.
“Grace is safe.” They croon again.
I sigh. "Alright." It would have to do for now.
The Eridian holds a device against my head and I resist the urge to bat it away. I’m sure it would just make me look pathetic to the insanely strong Eridians. Gravity on Erid is 1.5 g, I remember. Which explains why everything feels heavier than usual.
I drop myself back on the mattress as the Eridian shuffles through the room. Now I notice that there is various equipment lining the walls. Some of them have tubes running towards my bedspace, one of which disappears into an IV in the crook of my right arm while others are rolled up and out of use. The equipment looks like a mix between the machinery in the control room of the Hail Mary and the medical equipment of Armando. Speaking of, I spot Armando in the far corner of the room. I guess that even unconscious I'm introducing them to all kinds of new stuff.
“Good to see that you’re learning.” I say, not expecting a response. I don't get one either.
Another Eridian enters the room with tools I don’t recognize at all. Both Eridians are covered in Xenonite suits that closely resemble the one that Rocky made for himself. It is an improved version of the ball and gives them space to move and use their hands and fingers.
“So… Where is Rocky?” I ask. The second Eridian makes a noise that I recognise as surprise, while the first Eridian croons again. I’m naming that one Croony.
“Grace is safe.” They repeat.
“Yeah I know that, but it would be way easier to communicate with each other if– aaand you’re ignoring me. Great.” The two Eridians are engrossed in a conversation with each other, not even giving me the time of day. I huff, though my headache really doesn't like that I do. If these were my students I’d give them a serious talk about manners.
Then the series of chords I know to mean ‘human’ fall and I tune in to their conversation. I’ve become quite good at understanding the language over the past years. I’m grateful for it now.
“…not expected.” The second Eridian says.
“It might be for the best.”
“No, it’s a huge lost opportunity. How do you propose we make this happen, question?”
Croony does a movement akin to a shrug. “The story does not have to change.”
A silence.
“The story, or the situation?”
“The story. Think about the possibilities.”
Eridians don’t have eyes, but spend enough years in close quarters with one and you will learn to notice when their attention shifts. Right now, they’re both observing me. A shiver runs down my spine. Where the heck is Rocky when you need him? Or my laptop?
I try to lift myself up from the matrass again. This time I manage to get myself into a sitting position. That’s a win in my book.
Croony immediately croons as they walk over to me. “It seems the human will live.” Their tone is soft, but I’m not sure the words are meant for me. “This is a good thing.”
Uh, yeah, did they ever think otherwise?
The second Eridian hums doubtfully. “I will speak to 🎶 about this development.”
This is getting nowhere. I remember the way Rocky says his own name and try as well as I’m able to replicate the tune by humming it.
It… It’s a total disaster. And I know it the moment the sounds exit my mouth. The two Eridians halt their movements for a solid second, then start giggling.
“Yeah yeah.” I mumble. “Laugh it up.”
I’m too tired to try again. I lie back down and lift the blanket up to my chin.
Rocky will show up eventually, the little slacker.
Rocky
I’m at a party, half a planet away from where I want to be, in what can be best described as the complete opposite of a celebratory mood.
Which is a shame, because I had been looking forward to this moment a lot. I had imagined it often: we’d land on Erid, make sure everything is ready and set up for Grace, and then we’d throw the biggest Grace and Rocky saved the universe party ever. I even kept the little paper hats that Grace had made for us after discovering the taumoeba. It was going to be a surprise.
But then Grace fell sick. Even worse than before. I knew about the lack of food on the Hail Mary, both of us did. I reassured Grace that he would be safe on Erid, that Eridian scientists would be able to create food. He just needed to last until then.
We were still two Earth weeks away from Erid when Grace stopped waking up.
The actual landing on Erid was no happy occasion at all. I could not stop worrying about Grace. I sang him a song as we landed, something of comfort. However, I failed to fully keep my own emotions out of it, the occassional solemn note slipping through. The scientists were prepared; they immediately took Grace away to a room safe for humans. They brought the medical robot too, as well as one of Grace’s thinking machines. I relayed every detail about his condition as best as I could, as well as where to find more information on the thinking machine. Then, it was out of my claws.
I had wanted to stay with Grace after that, to make sure that he woke up with someone he knows at his side. I had wanted to stay to make sure there was someone who could translate his human language to Eridian. Most of all, I had wanted to stay to reassure myself. To not be alone anymore. Yes, I was surrounded by my fellow Eridians again. But it has been many Earth years since I have been here, and even more Erid years. Things have changed. Friends have gotten older, started new projects, moved on. Yes they were happy to see me again, yes they were still the nice Eridians that I had known. But I had missed out on so much change in their lives. And they had missed out on so much change in mine.
I will forever be grateful to Adrian for being next to me all the time. Somehow with them, it seemed like no time had passed at all. I was overjoyed when I heard that they had been waiting for me all those years, missing me just as much as I had missed them. That part of my return to Erid was exactly as I had imagined: Adrian waiting for me at the bottom of the space elevator. Their song turning bright and cheerful when they heard me, followed by the both of us harmonizing together as if nothing had changed. It had been a wonderful moment, so perfect that it was like a story.
And yet, after years of working so closely together, it felt insanely strange to have to leave Grace behind. With his health as delicate as it was, I did not want to be too far away. Adrian understood and agreed with me. So when the Elders came to me and told me I had to travel to the clusters to celebrate, I initially refused. The clusters could wait, I had said. But it is disrespectful to go against the Elders too often. So when the scientist in charge of Grace’s care told me that it could take many more Eridian years until Grace woke up, I reluctantly relented. They’d radio me as soon as there was any change, they had promised.
And so it happens that I am halfway across the planet, celebrating with cluster 🎵🎶🎶 and having a thoroughly bad time. I want to focus on the party and all these happy Eridians, but my hearts aren't in it. It doesn't feel right to stand here on my own.
Then the radio beeps. I am there in no time, listening to the voice at the other side of the planet. My day suddenly goes from bad to worse. Grace is doing bad. Bad bad.
Adrian, amazing as they are, immediately excuses us from the celebration and arranges transportation. The 🎵🎶🎶 Eridians are not happy about this, but Adrian knows some words in their language and is able to explain. They all express their concern over Grace after that, which I would find sweet if I wasn't so anxious to leave.
Getting back to Cluster 🎶🎵, where the Hail Mary had landed and where the research centre is, will take us ℓλV days. I am probably getting on Adrian’s nerves a lot during the trip, because my high stress levels are making me act like a pebble. Adrian, however, is what Grace would call a ‘saint’. Grace had once explained that saints are those who are so good and kind that they stand above any other being. Adrian is a saint. There is no other way I can describe them. They sing songs of comfort to me and listen to the radio signals when I fall asleep.
We are halfway through our journey when the radio beeps again. I listen to the repetitive sound without moving. Adrian thrills a tune of confusion.
The last time the radio had beeped, it hadn’t been good news. Grace was deteriorating and the scientists could not find out why. We are only V+ days away from the research centre and if they are calling now, it means that there is more news. I am afraid to hear it.
Adrian nudges me and I realise I have only taken a single step. I shake myself out of the weird stupor and answer the radio. “Rocky is hearing.” I say. “You have news, question?”
“Hello Rocky, Maran speaking.” The low tone of the scientist in charge immediately has my vents flutter in anxiety.
“Do you have good news?” I ask, as if I could change the outcome of this call by sheer optimism only.
“Is Adrian there?”
“Adrian is hearing.” My mate says, coming to stand next to me with their body tilted slightly against mine. I need it, my limbs are unsteady.
“Good.” Says Maran. “It is best if the both of you hear this together. The human is declining. It cannot be stopped.”
“Impossible.” My voice is sharp. “You have the entirety of the human database. Find out what's happening. Fix it!”
“We do not know what is causing the decline.” Maran’s voice is low, but stable. They had expected my reaction. Somehow that made it worse. This wasn’t a call for questions. This was a call for statements.
“Impossible.” I say again, but my carapace drops. Adrian leans into me more. They take over, which is good because none of my vocal cords can produce sound anymore.
“What are Grace’s problems, exactly?”
The two dive into biological terms I only half understand, but I from what I pick up it seems that Grace has contracted some kind of illness. The scientists are trying to search for a way to help Grace recover, but they don’t understand enough about the human body to know how to help.
“Humans have a great immune system.” The melodic tunes around me come to a sudden stop and I realise I have bluntly cut into their conversation. But I have more important things to worry about than that. “Give him time. He can fight it off with time. It can seem to get worse first.” Grace had explained that to me once. “Sometimes human sickness has to get worse before it gets better.”
“That knowledge is in our thinking machine too.” Maran says, with a vague thrill of annoyance. “But the human does not have the energy to fight off the sickness. Too weak. We gave food to add to his energy storage, but it is too late. The sickness is already in him and it is too aggressive for his weak state.”
“There must be something we can do!" I wave my limbs in the air for emphasis, though Maran could of course not hear that from this distance. "He will get better. He must!”
Their voice gets soft again. “I’m sorry, Rocky. We try, but nothing is helping. You have to prepare for the worst. It might happen very soon. There is only… Something that I would ask of you.”
“Yes, anything!” I say. “What can I do?”
“Think of how the human wants his body to decompose afterwards.”
What?
“The research says there are many human rituals after death.” Maran continues, as if they are talking about the weather. “In heat, in the ground or in the water. Many other different ways, too, like in space. Think about what the human would want.”
A low grieving sound rips itself out of my vocal chords.
“What Grace wants is to not die.” He doesn’t want to die. He told me once that he was okay with it, but I know that that was a big fat lie. When I offered him astrophage fuel for the trip back he was leaking from joy. He did not stop doing the thing with his mouth hole that means happiness for V days afterwards. Then, after he came to rescue me and I told him Eridian scientists could make him food to survive, he leaked from joy again.
Grace very much does not want to die.
I lament. I can’t help it. Maran has no comforting words anymore. It is a matter of days, they say. It is inevitable. The world keeps moving around me, conversations start and end but I don’t care about any of it. Adrian is next to me all the time, matching my grieving song with their own.
Suddenly Erid feels very empty.