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I sit in front of the whiteboard, hastily scribbling down everything I remember, memories hitting me like a truck.
'Exploding balloons… Crazy Canadian and Australian… Transgender???'
It's been forever since I've had to break out the whiteboard, but I feel my teacherly instincts kicking in as I put down dot-jots. My hand moves at the speed of light, and after hastily erasing 'always muscles', I have enough space to compile everything I know.
Transgender?
That can't be right!
I can't imagine the people of Earth envision the scientist on the Hail Mary crew to be contemplating his gender identity while an alien species works away at a 'Predator Collector' behind him, but here I am.
I haven't really had any time to think about my gender, because honestly, it hasn't been that important.
I'm pretty sure I'm a guy. I definitely feel like one.
But if I'm trans, then I'd still feel like a man, right?
Right?
I pull off my shirt, staring down at my chest. My finger traces lines right under my pecs, feeling the rough texture of scars.
I originally assumed I had heart surgery or something, but…
I hold out my arm in front of me, and feel another scar, this one very large.
Hesitantly, I also take off my pants, and a quick look down makes me freeze up.
Look, I hadn't been hyper-analyzing the state of my gentleman's equipment when I got into space, so sue me for not noticing! But a lack of foreskin and an incision scar where a vein should be tells me more than I need to know.
Numbly, I put on my clothes.
I can't say I feel upset, or angry about being trans. In fact, I don't feel much at all.
Nothing about me has changed, not the way I've experienced gender up until this point on the ship, and not anything about my personality!
Still, I can't help but feel like everything has changed, even though I know it hasn't.
I chuckle, thinking about all the people on Earth. Maybe when I'm put in history books, talking about how the Hail Mary project saved the planet, they'll mention it. I can only imagine how many people that would make angry.
But I also think about my students, who I never told.
And my friends from before being enlisted into a project to save the world.
And my heart aches, thinking about what I kept from them. Even though I know it isn't my job to tell them, and I don't owe them anything, I feel bad.
I glance over to Rocky, who's tinkering away with his Xenonite.
And unlike on Earth, I don't feel the need to hide from him.
"Hey, Rock? There's something I gotta tell you."