Chapter Text
“Why you so surprised, question?” I ask. “How long do humans live, question?”
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The little I have learned about Grace’s body language during our time together makes me think he is surprised that I am 291 Earth years old. His mouth hangs open, the hair above his light sensors are raised. I should have expected this. Grace is very large, it would take many many molts for any Eridian to reach his height.
Grace has mentioned that he is a scientist as well as a teacher to human children. On Erid, only our Elders would step down from their purpose to impart their knowledge on the next generation. Grace must be very old indeed to become a teacher, and to be chosen for this mission. Human science is so much more advanced than Eridian science. He must have spent 108s of years learning and teaching his purpose.
I think of my crewmates. When ♪ ♫ ♩ ♩ ♫ and ♪ ♪ ♫ ♪ were first starting to show symptoms of Space Sickness they tried to teach me as much as they could. They taught me about astrophage, they showed me all the experiments they were running. ♪ ♫ ♩ ♩ ♫ and ♪ ♪ ♫ ♪ were smart smart smart. They were the smartest scientists our people had, but they were not yet teachers.
I did not learn enough to fix the astrophage problem. It was not their fault, but mine. I am just an engineer.
♪ ♫ ♩ ♩ ♫ and ♪ ♪ ♫ ♪ died, and I could barely keep their experiments running for 3 years before I failed them again.
It must have taken dozens of years for Grace to understand radiation so well that he was able to teach it in a way that I could understand. Especially when I consider the language barrier. Radiation was only one of many concepts that Grace knew that Eridians had never even heard of, and physics is not even his speciality. Grace said he was a microbiologist, and he was the human who named Astrophage. Earth must have sent a very respected Elder on this mission.
Grace moved one of his claws and rubbed the back of the connection between his thorax and his sensory limb. Grace seemed to make this motion when he was uncomfortable. Has he lost confidence in me for being so young?
Grace spoke up. “Humans don’t live that long, Rocky. You’re incredibly old from a human perspective”
Huh?
“Humans live to be around 80 years on average. The oldest of us don’t live much past 100 years.”
“EARTH UNITS???” I simply must have misunderstood.
Grace makes the staccato breaths he makes when he finds something funny. “Yeah Rock! Earth years, always Earth years. I’m bad at math, remember?”
“I never forget.” Forget is one of the many new words I have had to create to communicate with Grace. I’ve combined the chords of Memory and Dead. Forgetting seemed like such a horrific concept the first time Grace explained it to me, but now it’s so much more unfathomable. How can a Humans have such a short life, and not even have the ability to remember it.
“How long Grace individual live, question?”
“Well that’s a complicated question, Rock. I’m pretty sure I was 33 when the Hail Mary launched. I’ve spent 4 years in a coma, so with time distillation, I’m either 37, or 44.”
Grace had not yet been laid when I first arrived at Tau Ceti. Grace is not yet the age of an Eridian adult, even if I did count the amount of time he spent in the dangerous sleep. Grace has spent 12% of his limited life so far in the dangerous sleep to travel here.
I find myself recontextualizing so much of Grace’s emotions and behavior. No wonder Grace leaks so often. He is only in his 36s. Grace should not be a teacher, he should still be a student. He should be on earth, playing and having fun with his siblings. He should not have been in space alone with no one to watch him sleep.
I do not mean to, but I make a deep, keening call of distress. Grace did not respond the last time I did this, when we spoke of my crew and how they died. I suspect it is too low for his limited range of hearing. I’m thankful that my involuntary indication of distress is so much less obvious than Grace’s blubbery leaking. Grace is kind. If he could hear me, he would be the one trying to comfort me.
I do not have the words to express how unfair and cruel the universe is to Grace. “Bad, Bad, Bad”
Grace scrunches his facial features together and is quiet for many seconds before he responds. “I know I must seem young to you. You deserve to have someone else here to help.” I hear him curl in on himself. “I wish there was someone else here to help you.”
He thinks I am calling him bad.
“NO NO NO” I curse the translation machine, which thankfully is not translated. “Grace not bad! Astrophage bad! Grace smart smart science human! I am happy Grace is here.”
Grace straightens back up to his full height. He moves his mouth flaps to reveal his protruding bones. “Awww Rocky… you really mean it?”
“Yes. I say truth.”
I am being truthful. I'm selfish in how I feel. I’m glad that Grace is here, that I’m no longer alone, even as I curse how unfair it is for Grace to be here. I should have been able to fix the Astrophage problem on my own. I should be able to tell Grace to go home, to enjoy the short life he has left.
But I can’t. I need him to help save my people.
“I’m really glad you’re here too Rocky.”
Grace does not begrudge my selfishness. He doesn’t even think to.
Grace is an adult by his species’ standard. He is still a teacher, he is still an amazing scientist. He stepped up, and agreed to watch me sleep, even when it is a completely alien concept to him. He is so young, but he has already given me comfort, and hope.
I should not hear him stumble and think of my nibling’s first steps out of the nest.
I still do.