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“These enormous creatures, with their minimal movement and specialized cells, are able to survive at crushing depths, sometimes going months without eating.”
Simon sat on the grated ramp in the don’t-go-crazy room, leaned back and propping himself up with his one good arm while his legs dangled off the edge. Looking up at the many screens, Simon indulged in his favorite passtime, one that Grace was often too squeamish to join him in but still understood as what he called “pseudo exposure therapy.”
Working his way through every last deep-sea documentary ever made since before the Hail Mary launched, Simon learned all about the creatures Earth’s oceans had to offer. Yes, they had gargantuan bodies and sometimes came with too many limbs and gaping maws full of sharp teeth, any eyes present always wide and glassy. But their fins and legs always belonged to them alone, whatever consciousness they held focused solely on the act of living, unable to infect another’s mind, and Simon found he gained the strangest sort of assurance watching such animals roam around an ocean made of water.
A quintuple clacking of footsteps interrupted his viewing, and Simon had just enough time to say, “Mary, please pause,” before Rocky came scuttling into the room, donned in his new-and-improved xenonite suit.
“Hey there Rocky,” Simon said, bringing his legs up onto the grating. “Need something?”
[Not Rocky, but Grace need Simon now now now,] Rocky answered, tapping two of his claws together in that way he did whenever he was either calculating or worried.
Without argument, Simon hoisted himself to his feet, beginning to follow the little alien. It wasn’t exactly the first time Rocky had wrangled Simon into helping ensure Grace stayed functional, and after proving to be pretty good at the job, Simon was more than willing to help whenever he was needed. “What is it this time? Food? Sleep?”
[Secret third option,] Rocky said.
Simon would have asked what the fuck that was supposed to mean were it not for the fact that traveling between rooms in the Hail Mary was hardly a hike, and the two of them entered the lab. Grace sat hunched over several petri dishes, wearing both his regular glasses and a pair of safety goggles.
Upon their approach, Grace glanced up, uncurling from his shrimp position to face them. “Hey Rock, Simon,” he greeted, smiling. “What’s up?”
“Rocky said you needed something,” Simon explained, gesturing down to Rocky.
Grace frowned, looking back down at his experiment. “I mean, I’m pretty good on samples from your mutated cells—”
[Grace about to have seizure,] Rocky interrupted, pointing one claw at Grace. [Grace must lie down now now now.]
Both Simon and Grace gawked at Rocky in tandem, eliciting a simultaneous, “What?” before Simon went on, “What do you mean, ‘seizure’?!”
“Buddy, I haven’t had one of those in—”
[Does not matter, Rocky can hear Grace muscles losing control,] Rocky said, forcing Grace to stand as he scuttled over to pull Grace’s stool out from under him. [Grace must lie down.]
“I’m sorry, you’ve had seizures before? Regularly?” Simon asked as he moved to stand before Grace, trying to remind himself that aboard the Hail Mary, a consistent condition of illness didn’t automatically condemn someone to death.
“Not regularly!” Grace said, lifting his hands in a failed attempt at assurance. “Just a couple times after I hit my head during that, uh, ‘fishing trip’ I told you about. But really, I feel fine! I haven’t had a seizure in months, long before we picked you up.”
“I…” Simon shifted from foot to foot, trying to block out the memory of the only other seizure he’d witnessed, how quickly his friend had collapsed, how the adults had rushed to get him and the other children out of the room, how the doctors of Eden had determined it would be best to usher the boy into the Grove. Looking down at Rocky, Simon said, “What are we supposed to do?”
[Simon sit. Grace lie down,] Rocky instructed, surprisingly patient as he gestured to the floor.
Simon sat without question, crossing his legs and looking up at Grace.
Grace opened his mouth as if to argue further, but after glancing between Simon and Rocky for a moment, he simply heaved a long sigh. “Alright,” he said, removing his safety goggles. “If it’ll make you feel better.”
Kneeling down, Grace rotated to lie flat on his back, head propped up in Simon’s lap. Quirking a little half-smile up at Simon, Grace said, “Hey there.”
For once, that grin was unable to charm Simon. With worry still pulsing in his chest, Simon reached down to faintly brush his fingers against the temple piece of Grace’s glasses. “Should these come off, too?” he asked.
[Yes yes, should not have anything on face,] Rocky answered. [Should also move away from cabinets.]
With the utmost care, Simon removed Grace’s glasses from his face, folding them and reaching up to set them on the counter before he and Grace both scooted to give all the furniture in the room as wide a berth as possible.
After a moment of silence, Simon asked, “So… we just wait?”
Grace shrugged, hands folded over his chest. “Pretty much, at least until Rocky gives us permission to get back up.” Grace chuckled. “Maybe I’ll take a little nap before…”
It wasn’t an immediate thing, but Simon still found himself panicking as Grace’s smile fell away and his eyes rolled up into the back of his skull, violent spasms overtaking the entirety of his body.
“Ah! R-Rocky, what do we—?”
[Roll Grace onto side,] Rocky said, reaching out to help. [Make sure he does not choke on own spit.]
Once again, Simon did as he was told, making sure Grace’s head was situated properly in the new position. “OK, OK, now what do we do?” Simon asked, trying and failing to keep his voice steady.
“Hnnng-gkk!” Grace uttered, a particularly sudden jerk causing him to bash his own knee into his forearm.
“Ryland!” Simon exclaimed, reaching forward to take hold of at least one of the thrashing limbs.
[No,] Rocky said, holding out an arm to stop Simon. [Rocky got scared when first saw seizure, too. Did not know what was happening, tried to hold Grace still. Almost broke Grace wrist.]
“So what, we— We can’t even do anything?” Simon said, helplessly watching Grace gasp and spasm.
[Can make Grace as comfortable as possible,] Rocky assured, gently setting one hand overtop Grace’s midsection. [Can make sure he knows he is not alone.]
“But does he know?” Simon asked, almost whimpered as he brushed stray strands of hair out of Grace’s face. “I mean, is he even awake? Can he tell we’re here?”
Rocky trilled a note of consideration. [Hard to say. But he will need comfort when seizure is over.]
Whirring in on its tracks, Armando made an appearance in the doorway, the tips of its arms spinning at the scene though it made no move to rush inside. Though his nerves tensed further with each unintelligible vocalization Grace gave, seeing the nanny bot not freak out at the situation gave Simon the strength to keep his panic in check, busying himself with biting his lip and keeping Grace’s hair out of his face.
One minute and thirteen seconds, Rocky eventually called the eternity, petting Grace’s side once the erratic jolts finally ceased. Good, he called it. Short.
Though his body was once again under his control, Grace still groaned from the experience, legs curled up with one hand clutching Simon’s pant leg. “Yeeeeeeeah,” he slurred in between deep gulps of air. “Real gud… Real sh’rt.”
“Are you OK? Do you need anything?” Simon asked, still trying to tamp down the beat of his racing heart, focusing on threading his fingers through Grace’s wheat-colored locks.
Grace gave a half-hum, half-sigh, adjusting his head in Simon’s lap. “C’n I stay here? Jus’ for a lil’ bit?”
“Of course, Ryland,” Simon answered at once, eager to provide any help he could. “Take as long as you need.”
Grace frowned, slightly lifting up his head. “Oh geez, I drooled all over you. ‘M sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’re just glad you’re alright.”
[Yes yes, happy happy happy.]
Grace paused, giving a slow blink before settling back into Simon’s lap with a sigh. “Thanks, you guys,” he said, reaching out to pat the top of Rocky’s suit a few times before lifting the same hand to cup Simon’s cheek, scratching at his beard. “F’r bein’ there for me.”
Calm finally creeping back into the corners of his chest, Simon let himself give a small smile, taking Grace’s hand and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “Always,” he promised.