Chapter Text
“A biodome?”
Grace gawked over at Rocky, his eyes skipping up to the porthole window as Erid inched closer into view. Against the star-spattered blackness of space, the planet was a dense, shiny spot approximately a day’s travel away. Bouncing next to him, Rocky said, “Yes, yes. Contact Erid. Eridians make biodome. Biodome keep Grace alive. Has human atmosphere.”
“Geez,” he mumbled as he ran his trembling fingers through his hair. It hadn't grown much in months; he supposed the malnutrition would be to thank for not needing to navigate a haircut. Sagging into his chair, he added, “That's a…a lot of work. Isn't it?” Every breath felt harder to pull, a wheeze clipping his words.
God, he was tired.
“Grace save Rocky. Grace save Eridians,” Rocky said. “Is good.” Tapping his claws together, he held two of his fingers up and continued, “Grace save Eridians two times. Savior. Biodome with oxygen and human food. Human food synthesized. Keep Grace healthy.”
Blinking fast, Grace struggled to keep the tears from his eyes. Call him soft, but he couldn't help but feel a spike of love rooting deep in his chest at the thought of everything Rocky had given him. Of everything Rocky and his people were going to give him. He'd never felt something so strong before and certainly never from any other person on Earth.
Where they abandoned him and ostracized him, Rocky promised loyalty.
Where they left him to die, Rocky came back to save him.
Where, at every turn, humanity left him behind, Rocky waited.
He croaked, “Thank you.”
Rocky chittered, “Yes, yes, yes.”
As his eyes slid shut, another wave of exhaustion silenced him. His chin dropped to his chest as he began to drift off again. It had been months of this: sleeping, waking up to talk for a few minutes or eat more taumoeba slurry, sleeping again, and again and, oh, did he mention? More sleeping. But, hey, at least he was alive, right?
He had Rocky to thank for that, too.
“Sleep, sleep,” Rocky said. “Grace tired, question. Breathing change. Slower.”
Nodding minutely, Grace hummed, “Yeah. Maybe just for a bit…” Melting into a hazy in-between of consciousness, he heard Mary whirring and shifting, adjusting their course to steer them directly to Rocky's set coordinates.
The world faded away.
Smears of colors overtook his vision.
Browned grass, a cloudy sky. Carl standing above him, his hands pocketed and eyes downcast.
Pain chased him. A prick to his thigh. His head swam.
Fear tightened his throat.
“Please!” he screamed. “I can't do this! I can’t–”
He blinked and Carl moved closer, his gentle hands scooping up Grace's own. “Ryland,” he said, his voice sweet and bright.
No, that wasn't Carl's voice.
Kind eyes caught his manic stare as the voice whispered, “Ryland. It's okay.”
Who was he looking at?
He didn't recognize this woman.
Bald and pale against the sheets beneath her, she said, “It's okay, baby. It's okay. I'm not going anywhere.”
“Mom,” he warbled, and the memory slotted into place in his heart like a gunshot wound to the chest. He coughed around a sob. “I'm sorry. I love you. I'm sorry. Please don't leave. Please, please, please.”
He was six again and small for his age, his shaggy blonde hair falling into his eyes as he hiccuped around another bout of tears.
“Is okay,” she said, her voice echoing and staticky. “Is okay, Grace.”
When he blinked, Mary snapped into view, those familiar winking system lights and bright screens staring back at him. The silence of space softened the nightmare's violent blows and, as he sucked in a careful breath, he felt the panic draining from his limbs. Grace sighed.
Rocky, tucked against his arm, said, “Is okay. Is okay.”
“Buddy?” Grace slurred, his head lolling to find his friend. But Rocky looked like a blob that didn't make sense. Nothing would focus, the world a blur before him. “Man, I'm…” Tired? Was that the word he wanted?
No, it would've been an understatement to say he was tired and that was all.
He'd make it to Erid, he was sure of that much. But his body had been ready to give up months ago, forced alive by half-inedible bacterial slush and spite. These days, the word ‘tired’ hadn't covered half of what he felt.
Rather, he was shutting down.
One hour at a time, he was inching closer to a reality where he never woke up.
Peeling his eyes open, he slurred, “I…need to stay awake.”
“How stay awake, question,” Rocky asked. With only the xenonite separating their bodies, Grace easily curled into the warmth from Rocky's side. Thank God for the Eridian species running hotter than humans. As his body reduced down to bone and blood and nothing much else, the heat felt like a saving grace.
He snickered at the thought.
Rocky asked, “Why Grace laugh, question.”
“Just…thinking about wordplay…” Grace mumbled. A shiver ripped through him. He hummed softly, beginning the notes of a distant song he didn't know the name of. It was familiar, his heart recognizing its tone, but he couldn't place when and where he had heard it from.
Maybe his mom?
His heart ached at the thought of that shrunken bald woman in the hospital bed. Humming louder, his throat oscillated the tones, matching pitch to the mysterious song.
“What Grace doing, question.”
He couldn't open his eyes. Not when the weight of this unfathomable weariness was bearing down on him. Instead, Grace huffed, “I'm humming.”
“Try to speak Rocky language, question?” Rocky asked, his claws clicking again. Was he excited?
Grace smiled weakly. “Uh, no. Sorry, bud. Humans, uh, we hum for…for comfort or boredom.” Shrugging, he added, “Or some people do it because they're good at singing. I'm…not. Or maybe I am? I don't know.”
“Singing,” Rocky began. “Unfamiliar with word. Describe.”
The irony of the situation wasn't lost on him. Grace smiled. “It's what you do, pal. You sing.” Shifting in his seat, he deflated, his head thunking against the xenonite tubing. “It's…a song. Like music.”
“Music,” Rocky repeated.
“Mhm,” Grace murmured.
He drifted off again before Rocky could continue.
More nightmares sifted through his mind.
Coming and going, he couldn't retain them long enough to feel anything strong about their stories. Instead, he felt as if he were standing in a river, the stream of his dreams slipping past him.
When he woke, it was to Rocky saying, “–in two minutes.”
What?
Grace cracked his eyes open. “What's in two minutes?”
Rocky shifted. “Grace awake, good, good.” His claws were pushed through the xenonite mesh in front of him, a finger down on the transmission button. “Rocky talk to Erid. Mary dock with Eridian shuttle soon.”
It took a moment for the words to process.
He blinked.
“Right,” Grace huffed. Heaving himself straighter in his chair, he buckled himself in as he shook the fog from his head and reached for the controls. “I feel drunk. Drunk people shouldn't drive, it's like a whole thing on Earth. Do you guys have–?”
When he turned to face Rocky, his jaw dropped.
Past his friend and out the window, massive pillars of gold dazzled in front of them, stretching far enough that Grace couldn't see where they began or ended. It reminded him of Rocky's ship though far, far larger in scale than anything he'd ever seen before. Was that the station Rocky had been communicating with? Behind it, Erid’s bright atmosphere swirled below in a sea of white and blue not dissimilar to Earth.
Erid.
They made it?
Tears clogged his throat.
His lip trembled as he sucked in a wet breath.
They made it.
Reaching through his webbing, Rocky flipped the autopilot switch off and let Mary drift closer to the giant space station. “No touch control,” he announced. “Rocky already prepare route.” Arms of shimmering xenonite reached out for their ship, connecting gently. Slowly, they inched Mary in closer, closer, closer until their ships were pressed against each other.
Through the window, Grace could see the blurry figures of Eridians scrambling through their shuttle. Rocky popped up, slithering down his tubing and disappearing into Mary. “Meet Eridians! Let's go!”
Grace flopped in his chair.
His arms refused to move cleanly, his fingers catching on the buckles but struggling to push in the release. “Dangit,” he scowled under his breath. Head flopping back, he called out, “Rocky! I'm–” A laugh slid up his throat. “I'm stuck, bud. Can you help me?”
Despite their distance, Rocky's voice echoed through the ship, “Grace stuck, question.”
“Yeah,” he breathed.
“Yes, yes,” Rocky said. Clattering of claws on xenonite stuttered behind him and, soon, his friend was pushing through the tube webbing, unhooking the belt buckle with ease. Grace giggled again. Was he delirious? “Grace hurt, question,” Rocky asked.
“No, no, I'm just…a bit hungry…” he said as he eased himself up and out of his seat.
His knees buckled.
The world went black.
Rocky's scream echoed in his hazy head, loud yet terrifyingly far away.
What happened?
He couldn't even blink.
Something grabbed him. He moved. Gravity meant nothing as he was lifted. Maneuvered. He was shifted until his back settled against a hard surface. A sleeping cot? How'd he get into the bedroom?
Eventually, his lashes fluttered.
Glancing up, he startled.
There were two of Rocky.
No, three.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he frowned when four differently colored versions of Rocky clambered around him.
“Add nutrients now.”
“Adding nutrients.”
“Human body weak.”
“Why, question.”
“No nutritional food for two years, six months, and seven days.”
“Abnormal, question.”
“Yes.”
Grace blinked up at the ceiling.
Why was Rocky talking to himself?
Something pricked the back of his hand. He couldn't move to look. Instead, a sigh escaped him when a chill slid through his veins. Tapping echoed in his ears. Rocky - the real Rocky - stood above him in his tubing. “Grace okay now,” he said. “Eridians fix.”
It was impossible to combat the exhaustion that overtook him.
Everything returned in pieces.
Grace’s fingers twitched, curling into a fist. He breathed deep. Slowly, he blinked, letting the world slot back into place as he glanced up at Rocky folded above him in his tube. He lifted his arm. It clumsily dropped back down to the cot.
On his second attempt, his hand stayed raised.
He tapped against the bottom of the xenonite panel with a smile.
Adjusting his position, Rocky tapped back.
Grace smiled as he whispered, “Hey, buddy.”
“Grace awake,” Rocky said.
A chunky blue Eridian with sprawling black tattoos sidled up next to Rocky and, in the same voice, said, “Hello human. I am–” A song rippled through the air, bright and fresh-sounding like a tune from a beach party. “Welcome to Erid. Biodome ready for human. Yes, yes.”
Grace’s mouth dropped open.
Was he hallucinating?
Had he finally lost it?
“Um,” he began, clearing his throat as he glanced between the two Eridians. “What's happening?”
“Eridians synthesize nutrients.” Rocky said, bobbing up and down. “Nutrients now in Grace. Look.” His claw pointed down and Grace's eyes followed, his heart skipping at the sight of a bulky needle taped to the back of his hand. “Grace feel better, question.”
Blinking hard, Grace croaked, “Uhm. Mmhm. That's…” His breath picked up as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Mm. I'm good, yeah. All good.”
Hands pinned him down.
“Yeah,” he whispered.
He tasted grass. Dirt. Debris in his eyes.
“Carl! Please! I can't do this!”
Shaking his head, he asked, “Uh. How… How long have I been unconscious?”
“Two hours and six minutes,” Rocky announced. Movement in Grace's periphery startled him. He watched as two more Eridians walked through the line of tunnels leading into the lab. As he gawked, Rocky continued, “Grace hurt but now Grace better. Eridians make record of Grace.”
“Uh, okay, sounds good. Sure,” Grace mumbled, pointing over at the other Eridians, also with inky tattoos. “And who’re they?”
“Rocky coworkers,” Rocky said.
The other Eridian next to him sang, “Here to help. Do not resist.” Grace choked on his spit to avoid cackling at the phrase. Over his coughing, he heard the alien continue, “Human wet. Disgust.”
“Is normal,” Rocky explained. Then, tapping the xenonite between them, he continued, “Grace move to biodome now. Rocky voice not come inside biodome, question.”
He blinked.
That wasn't something he'd thought about.
Ever since he'd entered Blip A and came up with the plan to use a pre-set voice for Rocky's translation, he hadn't ever considered a world where they'd be without Mary’s systems. But if he went into the biodome–
“Let’s try chatting, then, shall we?” he asked, nodding to Rocky. Breathing through a wave of dizziness, he added, “In moderation, of course. I'm pretty bashed up.”
Rocky bobbed, his jazzy hands flying in Grace's face. “Right now. Right now. Learn Rocky language.”
“Right now, in moderation,” Grace warned. “Be nice to me. We'll start with numbers, okay?” Then, louder, he ordered, “Mary, stop the translation system.”
“Translation systems paused,” Mary announced.
Glancing back to Rocky, he said, “Okay. Say ‘one’.”
The small music note split the silence. Grace smiled. Humming low under his breath, he whistled simultaneously to emulate the high-and-low pitched song.
It sounded ridiculous.
Rocky chittered and repeated the note, louder and with more insistence. He sang something after, too, oscillating in pitches and deepening at the end.
He couldn't process the sounds. Everything jumbled in his head. “Sorry, repeat that?” Grace asked.
Rocky chirped the same notes.
It clicked. Rocky was telling him, “Grace is not saying the word correctly.”
Grace laughed, “I don't think my body can make that sound, bud. But I understand you.” His grin widened as he repeated, “Holy crap, wait. Wait. I understand you.”
“You understand me, question,” Rocky asked.
He said, “Yeah. Woah. I do.” Shifting in his cot, he tapped the xenonite and added, “You know, apparently it took me something like six extra months to begin talking. When I was a baby, that is. And I took Spanish in school and I sucked at it and–” Grace sighed. “I understand you. This is so cool.”
“Say ‘one’, Grace,” Rocky said. “You said ‘block’, not ‘one’.”
Mimicking the sound to the best of his abilities, his breath stuttered as he giggled. “I can't! I'm trying my best, I swear!”
Rocky shrieked, “Grace–!”
A spark of pain popped in Grace's nose.
“What the–?” Heat dribbled from his right nostril. Brushing his fingers through it, Grace frowned.
His fingertips came back bloodied.
Grace muttered, “Well crap.”
“What happened?” Rocky asked, flipping around in his tube. “I hurt you, question.”
“No, no, it's fine, I'm okay,” Grace said as he held his hand up between them. Swiping away the last of the rivulet, he mumbled, “I…think you got too loud? A blood vessel burst in my nose.”
“Humans are soft,” one of the Eridians to his right chimed. “You are delicate.”
“A bit,” Grace said sheepishly.
Rocky sang, “Make note of this anomaly. Eridians must speak gently around Grace.”
The aliens began to talk amongst one another, singing back and forth about their newfound human. Conversations shifted to the taumoeba, to the astrophage on the ship, to the ship itself, and then eventually back on Grace. Names like “squishy” and “weak” floated between them, and Grace smiled to himself.
After all, it wasn't as if they were wrong.
As soon as Grace had recovered from his so-called “near-deadly malnutrition”, he and Rocky had decided together that it was safe for him to move out of Mary and into the biodome.
Standing on still-shaking legs, he leaned against the wall as he shrugged on a fresh pair of pants and socks. His shoes fought him every step of the way, the laces squirming in his loosened grip. Huffing under his breath, he grumbled, “Stupid. Can't you bunny-ear correctly?”
“Do you want help?” Rocky, off to his side, sang gently.
Was he still upset about the nosebleed?
Nonetheless, Grace asked, “How are you going to help me behind xenonite?” He grinned cheekily at his friend. “Or have you just gotten that dextrous with that new suit?”
Fashioned in a sleek, xenonite bodysuit that framed him from head to…not toes, Rocky pinched his claws together. “I can tie things easily,” Rocky said. “Watch, watch, watch.” Scooting into Grace's space, he grabbed the shoelaces and looped the ends over one another, mirroring the exact way Grace always tied the laces.
Grace whistled. “Color me impressed.”
“I cannot see colors,” Rocky said.
Snorting a laugh, he said, “I know, bud. It's just a saying.”
As they walked together, Grace kept one hand flat to the wall for a guide. Carefully, he eased his exhausted body back into movement once more. After days of laying in his cot, everything was stiff and he winced at the stretch of his muscles. “The airlock is pressurized for human environments,” Rocky began, crawling alongside his slow pace. “You will be able to enter the human-based compartment of the base without issue. From there, an elevator will take you down to the biodome.”
“That sounds like a lot,” Grace mumbled. His lip curled. “You said elevator? You're sure about that?”
“Yes,” Rocky chimed.
His stomach went tense. “Oh, awesome.”
As they slid around the ship and stumbled into the airlock tunnel, Rocky popped into his ball.
Puffing his cheeks out with a sigh, Grace said, “Okay. Here we go.” He yanked down on the lever with what was left of his body weight, snapping the lock down and pushing the door open on its hydraulic hinges. A cool rush of air smacked him in the face as the xenonite walls dazzled with Mary’s light. He stepped out with caution, breathing deeply and slowly as he inched away from the safety of his ship. “Okie dokie. This is…” He laughed. “This is going well!”
“The biodome will be monitored by scientists at all times,” Rocky sang. “Adrian is one of them.”
“No way,” Grace gawked. “Can I meet…her?”
“I have always wondered. What is the difference between ‘him’ and ‘her’?” Rocky asked, scurrying in front of Grace to unlock a large, shimmering door. The xenonite panel shifted up and out of the way, though Grace had to duck under it to clear the lip. It wasn't surprising they hadn't accounted for an alien of his height.
With a shrug, Grace said, “Like, male and female? Sexes for reproduction?”
“Oh,” Rocky warbled. “No, no, the Eridians have one sex.”
“Fascinating,” Grace said.
The tunnel split into two distinct sections: one for Grace, and one with a xenonite wall separating him from dozens of Eridians. Some chittered in his direction while others danced in excitement, undoubtedly interested in meeting something as weird looking as him. He waved nonetheless, offering a smile as coos and songs echoed around him.
Continuing down the tunnel, he reached a raised, circular platform just as lustrously golden as the rest of the station. Grace inched up onto it, clinging to its side when it shifted under his weight. He glanced over to the cluster of Eridians, looking for Rocky in the group–
His heart dropped.
Where was Rocky? No, which one was Rocky?
Through the semi-transparent walls, Grace couldn't tell them apart. Everything was too distorted and too bright. He couldn't even make out what the Eridians were saying to one another, their songs mixing into an echo of cacophonous music.
“Rocky?” he called out. “Hey, where are you?” Forcing a twitching smile onto his lips, he mumbled, “Feeling kind of like a bug under a microscope, here, buddy.”
An Eridian pushed to the front and tapped on the glass separating them, a quick one-two-three that washed cold relief through Grace's veins. He sagged as Rocky sang, loudly, “I am here. I will see you in the biodome.”
“Okay,” Grace whispered.
The platform lurched. As it slid down at a leisurely pace, the light from the Eridani stars flickered off the golden poles. He watched Erid’s surface crawl closer and Grace sighed.
It would take a long time to reach the bottom.
Not that he minded, of course. His heart swelled with gratefulness at realizing just what the Eridians had done in preparation for his arrival. As Grace slid down to the floor, he sagged into the wall and stared across the expanse of space behind the planet’s curve.
Only two years ago, he truly thought he'd die out there in the void.
Four years ago and he was on Earth, doing what he thought would save the world.
Six years ago and he was a nobody at Grover Cleveland Middle School, ostracized and alone.
Beyond that, time went fuzzy. He hadn't mattered back then and, even now, he wasn't sure Earth would remember him outside of his so-called sacrifice. “You'll be remembered as a hero,” Stratt had told him but, really, that couldn't be guaranteed, could it?
Did they make memorials for Doctor Ryland Grace?
Did anyone mourn his “passing”? Did his students? His ex-girlfriend? Stratt or Carl or anyone else he'd met?
Did he ever really even matter to Earth?
Outside of Project Hail Mary, he doubted it.
But Erid…
He'd never had somebody give so much for him before. Certainly not a whole species. Humans likely couldn't give two toots about him but the Eridians–
Grace smiled wetly, blinking back tears.
This would be good. He had hope.
As the elevator descended into the Eridian clouds, a slow moving darkness crawled into the shaft. Grace hung his head and laughed. Duh. Rocks. Echolocation. Of course the planet would be pitch black.
That would take some getting used to.
Time slipped through a quiet stream of silence as Grace relaxed into the warm xenonite behind him. Erid was hot and, already, he was beginning to sweat. With his shirt clinging to his back, he shifted, wincing through his discomfort. Hopefully the biodome didn't cook him alive.
A sourness built in his mouth at the thought of traveling all this way and eating that much taumoeba only to be boiled to death.
How disappointing…
The darkness enveloped him completely.
Grace tensed, his hands fisting tight enough to squeak.
He blinked, and bright lights blinded him. Grace squinted, sitting upright as he stared at the large artificial lighting and thick, sweeping, fan-like structures. Below them, a thick panel of xenonite blockaded off heavy, rolling clouds.
A gasp escaped him.
Rich orange sands and rolling waves inched closer with every passing second. In the distance, a massive, wiry tree sheltered a small shack tucked away up on a hill. The cliff face nearby stood resolute against the waters that thrashed relentlessly, mirroring the ocean that he'd left behind.
The sight reminded him of the Duncansby Stacks.
He'd gone, once, years ago when he was still in school. They'd invited him out to the United Kingdom for a conference in his undergraduate years and, while the majority of his classmates had stayed in Glasgow, he'd taken a trip up north. That view had stolen his soul, had him crying as aching relief washed over him.
For just that moment, he'd forgotten about it all.
His mom. His dad. His failed relationships. His absent brothers. His mess ups. His mistakes. His pathetic attempts at making friends.
All of it had vanished into the Ducansby fog.
As the elevator slowed to a stop, more doors lifted up and out of his way, opening the shaft to the chiseled rock floor before the orange sands and crashing waves. He stepped out, sucking in a deep breath as salt and humidity sat on his tongue. Stepping forward, he felt weightless and cold.
It was just like Earth. Like home.
Somehow, the view was exactly how he'd described it to Rocky, the world practically copy-pasted from one of the pictures or videos Grace had shown him. He couldn't stop himself from sinking to his knees. As he doubled over, a sob crawled up his throat. He clapped a hand over his mouth to silence it. Grace blinked the tears from his eyes as he made a fist in the sand. Grains bit into his skin, wiggling under his fingernails and he only cried harder.
God, he thought he'd never go home again.
“Grace! Are you okay, question!”
Twisting around, he watched as Rocky scampered into the biodome in his xenonite suit, his limbs gliding through the sand as he skidded to a stop in front of him. Holding his hand up, Grace nodded. “I'm okay, I'm just…” When he stared out across the ocean again, he felt his breaths hitch with more tears. “I'm really happy. I–I never thought I'd see this stuff again.”
Rocky sang gently, “Welcome home, Grace.”
Shifting forward, Grace threw his arms around Rocky. His friend leaned into the hug, pressing closer and humming softly. As he sank into the embrace, he closed his eyes as he listened to the shoreline’s roars.
He was home.
“It has been two weeks, how do you feel, question.”
Adjusting the foxes on his bedside table for the third–no, fourth time, Grace nodded. “I'm good,” he said, sparing a glance at Rocky. Then, stepping back, he settled his hands on his hips and asked, “Do you think they should go here or over there on the shelf?”
“Here, here,” Rocky chirped, bouncing in place. “They can watch you sleep when I cannot.”
“But you live just next door,” Grace offered, gesturing over his shoulder. “You can hear me through your walls. That's what you told me, Rock.”
Wiggling in his suit, Rocky chimed, “It is just in case.”
Sending a small smile to his friend, he nodded and left the foxes where they were. Wandering into his kitchen, Grace pulled out his breakfast. “So,” he began. “Todays the day, huh?” A worm of anxiety wriggled in his stomach. “You sure about this?”
“Yes,” Rocky sang. “We have created this enclosure specifically for Eridian children to sit so you can teach them. The Eridian teachers and parents will be present as well.”
“Like a field trip,” Grace hummed. “Except I'm the exhibit. That's funny.” He thought of the trips to the local zoos or the science centers, watching as his middle schoolers investigated the penguins or bears or dinosaur bones in awe.
This time, he supposed he was the cool little penguin.
“I do not understand the joke,” Rocky chirped. “Explain, question.”
He wagged a hand at Rocky. “Eh, it's not important.” Spooning a bite of his breakfast, Grace flipped around to face his friend, propping himself up against the countertop. “The food’s good as always. Thanks, pal.” Gesturing to the house, he added, “And once we finish building Armando’s rails, it'll be nice to have him in here, too.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Rocky sang. “I am excited for you!”
Grace smiled.
They chatted about nonsense as Grace finished his food and got properly dressed. Sure, the Eridians may have not cared about clothes in the same way humans did, but sue him, he wanted to look nice and make a good first impression. Shaking out his white flight suit, Grace wore one of his mission statement shirts and laced his shoes. He checked himself over in the mirror, straightening his unruly hair as best he could, and turned to face Rocky. “Okay, I'm ready.”
“Good, good, let us go,” Rocky chimed. He guided the two of them out of the house and down to the beach. Opposite his little shack was a newly built dome with some of Mary’s equipment splayed out in front of a semi-transparent xenonite glass panel. As they neared the enclosure, Grace smiled at the sight of dozens of tiny Eridians - pebbles, he'd dubbed them - scuttling about.
“Hey,” he began. “This is pretty–”
Something slammed on the biodome wall next to him.
The two of them twisted around, Grace shuffling backwards at the sight of dozens of larger Eridians crowding the dome.
A large, pale green Eridian thumped their bulky, tattooed claw against the glass, chattering something low. It was something foul, Grace knew, though he couldn't hear the exploit through the wall. “What the…?” he whispered.
Rocky sang, “There are some Eridians that do not like you on our planet. They were mad about the terraformation and biodome construction.” Stepping halfway in front of Grace, he continued, “They do not want you seeing our pebbles.”
“Oh.” Grace's gut wrenched up.
In a way, he understood.
If it were his students or, worse, his child meeting a strange alien from another planet, he, too, would hold trepidation. No amount of cooing and reassurances would change his mind. After all, what if the alien lashed out? What if it harmed his students?
How did he explain to an Eridian mob that, no, even a small pebble could likely kick his butt up one end of the beach and down the other? They were already close to one-hundred pounds full of excitable spider-rock alien–
“Pay them no attention,” Rocky sang. “Let us go meet your students. Everyone is excited.”
But walking away from the angered Eridians felt risky.
His palms began to sweat, the back of his neck tingling as he pictured them fixating on him alone. Was the biodome safe? Would they get in somehow? No, Adrian and the others were looking over it at all times, right?
Wait, was Rocky in danger?
God, he couldn't handle that guilt knowing he could put Rocky in harm's way, if that were the case…
Nonetheless, Grace stepped into his makeshift classroom and looked around. His whiteboard had been set up in front of the glass, a crystalline projector and second board set up next to it. Behind him, his computer and translator were propped up on one of Mary's tables. And, next to him, dozens of Eridian children bounced and squealed their delight at the sight of him. Their parents or teachers - Grace couldn't tell who was who - also seemed interested.
He waved. “Hello.”
A chorus of greetings echoed around him. Grace exhaled hard, shaking his hands out.
Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.
“Okay, so, with all that being said, who can tell me what relativity is?”
Squeals and chitters reverberated through the enclosure as pebbles raised their little claws in the air. One began to shout, “Relativity is when–”
Grace clapped loudly. “Remember! We raise our hands–” He demonstrated with an exaggerated flourish. “When we want to speak!”
More excited sounds rippled through the dome. Grace pointed to a tiny, bouncing blue pebble and said, “Yes! Go ahead, Laura!”
She chirped, “Relativity is when movement and gravity are seen differently depending on where we are in space, and time and space are connected!”
“Correct!” Grace hooted. “Beautiful work, Laura. You're really good at this, you know that?” And she was–most of his students were bright but Laura, specifically, was going places. Maybe the Eridian equivalent of NASA? Did they have that? When he'd met Adrian a couple weeks ago, the workplace she had described had sounded eerily similar…
As he glanced around at his students, Grace said, “And who can tell me about special relativity?”
Before any of his pebbles could volunteer, the bell sounded throughout the biodome.
Grace glanced at his watch. “Geez, would you look at the time? It got late so fast!” Disappointed songs sang throughout the enclosure. He said, “Don't worry, everyone, I'll be seeing your group tomorrow, too! We still have a whole week together, don't forget.”
As the pebbles began to filter out, Grace waved to them.
“Goodbye, teacher Grace!”
“Have a good day, teacher Grace!”
“Thank you, teacher Grace!”
“Have a good rest of your day!” he called back as they left.
This group of students had been particularly fun and, dare he say, the best to teach. In his many months on Erid, these pebbles were his favorite. They'd been so loud, so excitable, and so eager to learn at all times, reminding him fondly of his students back on Earth. As he erased the whiteboard diligently, making sure to leave no smudges or marker spots behind, he sighed. He'd only have them for one more week, but he'd make the best of it. Besides, next week, he'd see his original group, the ones that had reintroduced him back into teaching after his years on Mary.
That would be nice.
Glancing over his shoulder, he nearly missed the last remaining Eridian tucked into the corner of the enclosure. A teacher? Or maybe that was a parent? He still couldn't tell the difference.
Setting his eraser down, he said, “Hey! How can I help you?”
The Eridian slipped into the light.
With that large, pale green carapace and black tattoos, how could he forget?
Grace took a step back. He said, “I remember you.”
“Good,” the Eridian sang. “Stay away from the pebbles.”
“Look.” He held up his hands. “The teachers are bringing them here, not me. And we're talking about boring stuff like relativity and the speed of light. It's not like it's anything bad–”
He shrieked, “No!”
Pain popped in his skull as blood dribbled from his nose. Hissing under his breath, he swiped at the mess. “Crap,” Grace muttered. “Sorry, you got a little loud–”
The Eridian went still.
Grace froze.
He swallowed hard. Something in the back of his mind screamed at him to run, to hide, to get as far away from the alien that was hunting him down.
A deeper, more ancient pressure demanded he stay perfectly still.
He couldn't even speak.
Another loud shriek cleaved the quiet in two.
Head pounding with pain, Grace gasped as he clapped his hands to his ears. Hot blood stained his palms. More spilled from his nose, staining his lips. Grace opened his mouth to scream for Rocky.
A third pulse of sound silenced him.
It didn't stop.
Grace doubled over as a spear of agony hammered into the base of his skull. His ears rang, his pulse thrumming hard enough to feel on his tongue. When a wave of dizziness washed over him, he stumbled and dropped to his knees. “Wait,” he wheezed. “Wait. Ugh–!”
“Your kind is poorly constructed,” the Eridian sang. When had the shrieking stopped? “Just as researched.”
“Rocky,” Grace whined.
“Quiet, human!" they whined, lodging another bolt of pain into his brain. Grace retched. He felt nauseous, spit dribbling past his bloodied lips. “When I speak, you listen.” Slapping his hands on the ground to keep himself upright, Grace squinted up at the pale Eridian. They crawled up the xenonite wall and perched upside down, watching him as they continued, “You may have influenced the others but you will not influence me.”
Grace ground his teeth as another wave of ringing deafened him. Thrum after heavy thrum of brutal music had him falling onto his front, curling into a ball, and sobbing as pain caught fire to his nerves from his toes to ears. A scream squeaked out of his throat.
The Eridian cried, “You are poisoning those young Eridian minds!”
Then, silence.
Everything was spinning.
With blood on his tongue and more clogging his ears, Grace couldn't think straight. There was a clattering from next to him, a chirping from afar as something scampered across the sand.
He watched with half-lidded eyes as Rocky flew in front of him, calling out softly, “Grace, are you okay, question.”
He couldn't move.
The light stung his eyes. Groaning, he squeezed them shut. “Friend,” Rocky began, even gentler than before. “Can you hear me, question.”
Barely.
Over the incessant ringing in his ears, Grace could feel more than hear the soothing chirps of Rocky's voice. He moaned, “Wha’?”
“Who did this to you, question,” Rocky asked. Two of his limbs pushed on Grace's shoulders, easing him over and onto his back. Direct contact with the overhead lighting had Grace whining again, covering his eyes with his arm. “Can you describe the Eridian, question.”
When he peeked past his sleeve, he found a half-dozen more Eridians in xenosuits behind Rocky. One of them - a summery teal-shaded carapace, towering over everyone else - he recognized as Adrian. She tapped at a device on her arm and, within seconds, the brightness dimmed considerably. Gently, she cooed, “I am sorry we have to meet again this way. Hopefully this will help you.”
“It…does. A lot,” Grace croaked. Then, glancing to Rocky, he grimaced. “I…recognized them. It was the one from weeks ago. The one that was…that was hitting the glass. The lead protester.”
Rocky sang something - a name - and Grace blinked sluggishly. The other Eridians chittered, and one of them scurried away and out of the biodome. But Grace could hardly see them with how fast his vision was spinning. He curled over onto his side and, with another pathetic whimper, coughed up his breakfast.
This must've been the world's worst migraine.
Rocky patted in between his shoulder blades. “Breathe, Grace. It is okay.” Tears and spit mixed with the blood smeared across his face and Grace shuddered. God, he felt disgusting.
“I will carry him home,” Adrian announced. As Rocky stepped back, the monstrous Eridian took his place. She slid one limb under his shoulders and another beneath his knees, scooping him up as if he weighed nothing.
Against his will, he went limp.
Adrian gently stomped up the stairs, squeezed them through his doorway, and settled him on his bed. Behind her, Rocky scampered close. “Our people will look for this Eridian,” Rocky sang to him. Squeezing one of Grace's hands between his claws, he bobbed in place. “Yes, yes, we know exactly who did this to you. You will be okay.”
Grace nodded, letting his eyes slip shut. He heard clattering around the house as the other Eridians got situated.
One sang, “We will watch friend Grace’s biodome closely. Nobody will go in or out without ID approval first.”
“And I will not sleep,” Rocky chimed in. “So I can watch over Grace.”
Adrian chirped, “Let us get going, then, shall we? Friend Grace needs sleep.”
Grace let himself drift off as he felt Rocky settle between his legs.
He woke to the darkness and a soft, sweet humming.
It was low in pitch and gentle, reminding him more of what sounds a human made rather than any Eridian. Peeling his eyes open, Grace breathed slowly, his body pulsing with exhaustion. He tried to lift his hand and wipe at his face but, instead, his arm twitched bonelessly against the mattress.
A shifting in his periphery startled him–
His body refused to move.
“Stay calm, human,” an Eridian sang. “I will make this quick and painless.”
At the foot of the bed, Rocky lay unmoving.
Was he asleep?
No, that wasn't right.
Grace tried to nudge him with his foot but an invisible weight against his leg pinned him in place. Glancing over, he watched as the pale green Eridian stepped into the dim night cycle light, glowing in their xenosuit. Dimly, he recognized the markings on the suit and, beyond that, the tattoos of the Eridian.
They were one of the scientists that had recovered Mary, weren't they?
Swallowing thickly, he felt his tongue move up to speak but no sound escaped him. Was he paralyzed? “Our people have researched you extensively, as you may or may not know,” the Eridian chimed. “This frequency is quite helpful, as you can see.”
Was that why Rocky, too, seemed to be paralyzed?
The Eridian grabbed him by the back of his shirt and dragged him out of bed. Grace slammed into the ground with a grunt, his body jerking in protest but never shifting enough to break his fall. Strangely, nothing hurt. He was completely numb. Sprawled out on the ground, he couldn't fight back as he was yanked along the floor and out the front door.
Rocky didn't follow.
He didn't even twitch.
Outside, the humming continued. Grace felt his fingertips jerking, his eyes snapping back and forth to try and find someone - anyone - who could help him. But as he felt his body being hauled across the sand, dread pooled in his gut as he heard the ocean waves roaring louder and louder–
Cold seawater rushed around him. The Eridian yanked him deeper into the surf. Their song stopped. Grace scrambled. He kicked out, throwing his arm back to smack at them.
It shrieked and Grace's skull felt as if it would split down the middle.
Before he could fight back, water pooled around him as he struggled against xenonite claws digging into his shirt and hair, their heavy Eridian weight pushing him under. He screamed. The waves silenced him. Salt filled his mouth. Water crashed against him but the Eridian remained vigil in his drowning.
Grace couldn’t breathe.
“Be still,” the Eridian sang, their music warbling through the thrashing water.
Pressure built in Grace's lungs. Pain lanced through his chest as his body begged for air. He threw his arms back, smacking against the Eridian.
They didn't budge.
Grace gasped.
Water rushed into his mouth, down his throat.
“Relax,” he heard the Eridian coo. “You will be asleep soon.”
He couldn't–
The weight holding him down vanished.
Grace snapped upright, hacking up water and spit as tears streamed down his cheeks. Someone grabbed him, dragging him, and Grace cried out as he fought back. “No, wait, please–!”
The claws curled around his arm, tightening over his scar and tapping once, twice…
He moaned, “Rocky?”
Through the dim lighting, he could barely see the Eridian above him as they hauled Grace ashore, splaying him across the dry sand. Vision clearing, he sagged.
“Adrian.”
“I am here,” she chirped as she crawled in front of him, her towering limbs bracketing him on all sides. “Continue to breathe, friend Grace. Mate Rocky is here.”
Dragging himself up onto his elbows, he squinted through the darkness to see Rocky and a group of Eridians wrestling in the water with his attacker. The group snapped and stabbed their limbs against the pale Eridian until they collapsed. “Traitors!” the attacker cried. “The human is poisoning our pebbles! Please stop!”
“Silence,” Rocky sang.
Their name was whistled once again as one of the Eridians chirped, “You will be stripped of your statements and imprisoned for your crimes.”
The other Eridians dragged Grace's attacker up and out of the sea. Squeals of protest echoed through the biodome and they were dragged back and through the airlock. Grace watched dazedly, his breaths coming too quickly to do much but zone out and hyperventilate. He coughed hard. Water spattered over his cheeks and chin.
“Grace,” Rocky chimed. “I am here. Are you okay, question.” His claws replaced Adrian’s hold, massaging into the scar as another claw settled against his throat. “You are bleeding.”
From where? His nose? From the sound?
Bringing his hand up, Grace dragged his hand down the side of his face. His temple smarted as his nails caught on a flap of cut skin. He'd hit his head? When? With the adrenaline fading, he felt his entire body throb as one giant bruise.
Shockingly, being dragged out of bed and down a set of stairs must've hurt…
Grace groaned, coughing again. The guttural, wet sound left him cringing as he curled in on himself. “Breathe, breathe,” Rocky sang. “Do not try to move.” Every passing beat calmed his rabbitting heart and, with a sigh, Grace deflated against the cool sand.
“Don't… Don't leave me,” Grace gasped. “Please.”
Adrian shifted. “We will not, friend Grace.”
Rocky chirped, “We are here.”
Grace closed his eyes.