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The capsule touches down on Erid about a decade and a half after I do.
'Touches down' is doing a lot of heavy lifting, there. In true Earth fashion it comes just shy of slamming into Erid's surface and obliterating itself. Landing thrusters, right? Who needs 'em.
It also lands on the top of one of the highest mountains on the planet. One that's extremely perilous to climb and even more dangerous to descend.
Again: classic Earth.
It's cylindrical ('What with humans and tubes? Why everything always type of tube?' Rocky asks. 'To be fair,' I reply. 'Humans also type of tube.'), just over my height and made of xenonite. It's nice to know they were able to reverse-engineer the production of that from the samples Rocky donated to the beetles.
There's a message translated into fourteen different languages. Y'know, just in case I've taught myself - and then the Eridians - Afrikaans.
Hey, it reads. Can we have our ball back, please?
There's a long explainer on human burial practices and honoring the dead specifically through the lens of my culture - America in the early 21st century. They're fast approaching the 22nd and isn't that buck-wild. You guys are welcome, I guess.
It's all written in the carefully precise language of a species initiating First (Second!) Contact with a race of extraterrestrials that they've only learnt about through the selected video diaries of one man and his dog.
I'm the dog, by the way.
We understand, they conclude. That your ways of commemorating the dead and disposing of bodies will likely vastly differ from our own. However, the Peoples of Earth would be forever grateful to the Citizens of Erid if whatever remains of Dr. Ryland Grace could be returned to his home planet. Capsule provided. Launch manual attached. Kindest regards, etc.
'Whatever remains.' It's awkward phrasing but, as I explain to the cluster of Eridians on the other side of the barrier, humans have always been squeamish about death. Even in official missives to alien species on planets orbiting distant stars, we can't help but get a little metaphorical about it.
'Humans want Grace's endoskeleton?' Rocky squawks in a tone that is both disgusted and indignant.
'No. Well, yes. Yes and no,' I say. 'They think I'm dead. It's a logical assumption considering everything that happened!' I cut Rocky off as he raises his carapace; offended on my behalf. 'From their perspective: I loaded up the beetles, shot them into space, and then went to save an alien who lives in an atmosphere that would implode me into a small ball of plasma.'
The Eridian next to Rocky, Emmet, hums a thoughtful noise. They're the Expert in Humans or, as they prefer: Lead on Anthro-Eridian Relations and Culture. You can imagine Rocky's response when that was decided.
'Rocky knows most about humans on Erid!' he trilled, stamping a frustrated foot on the ground. 'Rocky spent years with a human! Rocky spoke first to a human! This Rocky whole deal!'
'Rocky even talk like human,' I interjected. 'Uses stupid human slang and annoying human phraseology.'
'Grace not helping! Grace not helping on purpose!' he pointed at me. 'Bad bad bad friend! Grace should be on Rocky side!'
I laughed. The head of the Eridian Council shuffled from one leg to another to another.
'Council believes Rocky unable to perform role objectively. Will allow much affection towards humans to affect study.'
'Aww,' I needle him. 'You just love me too much, buddy.'
He pointedly ignores me.
'Rocky can be objective! Rocky can be big big big objective! Humans very stupid. Do many stupid things. Humans bad at math, breathe poison, have inefficient body plan. Council hear? Objective.'
So, Emmet is in charge of collating the Eridian knowledge of humanity. They tend to prefer the word 'Terran', though, which I'm down with. Very sci-fi.
'Terrans burn or bury in ground body of Terrans that have died. Ceremony is performed to mark the end of life,' Emmet summarises to the group. 'Terrans want what is left of Grace body either preserved or after decomposition process has occurred, so cultural practices can be carried out. Grace likely also important historical figure on Terra - this make cultural practices more significant. This correct?'
They aim the last at me. They know they're right, of course, but I nod in confirmation for the benefit of the other Eridians.
'Earth does want Grace bones,' Rocky grumbles.
'Well, when you put it like that it sounds morbid…' I say.
The assembled Eridians shuffle about, weighing up options.
'Erid needs to send capsule back to Earth,' Adrian hums.
'You sure we can't leave them on read?' I ask. 'I mean, I never answered my cell, when I was back on Earth…'
The Eridians can't exchange pointed looks between themselves but they do their equivalent: a short quavering whistle passes from one side of the group to the other like a Mexican wave. I know what it means. It's concern. The Extraeridial doesn't want to phone home. Now what.
'Would be bad for inter-species relations to not respond,' Adrian trills in a very delicate tone. 'Does not have to be immediate…'
The head of the Eridian Council - Ziggy - addresses Emmet.
'Remind - how long is average human lifespan?'
Rocky, Adrian and I all start talking at once.
'Will not allow Erid to send Grace–'
'Do not agree with acquiescing in such literal–'
'Bad bad bad! Please! This is my home–'
Ziggy lets out a low, booming tone. It's the Eridian version of 'pens down, mouths closed, eyes on me!'
'Asked question to determine whether Erid keeps capsule until after Grace die. Spend life here. Body returns to Earth.'
I feel tears start to well at the corners of my eyes.
'Please,' it comes out in a croak. 'This–' I scrub, frustrated, at a tear that slides down my face. Gosh darn it, why is this always my response to everything? 'I don't want that. I really don't want that. I want to stay here. Even when I'm gone - I want to stay here.'
Rocky leans the side of his carapace against the barrier. I press a hand against it briefly. I'm okay, buddy, don't worry.
'This is Grace decision?' Ziggy rumbles and I nod. 'Then Grace stay on Erid.'
Just like that, huh.
Adrian makes a high, drawn-out trill. It translates, roughly, to 'so…'
'Terrans will expect response,' Emmet hums. 'Agree with Adrian. Eridian non-acknowledgement could be viewed as suspicious.'
'Yeah, humans can be pretty leery of stuff like that,' I agree.
'Not as trusting as us, Eridians,' they sing at me.
'Not even close. Can you blame them, though?' I say, rolling my eyes. 'They can't even trust each other, half the time.'
I feel Rocky's attention on me. I look at him. He can't stare but he's doing a darned good job of acting like he is.
'What?' I ask, scratching my beard in discomfort.
'Is nothing,' he hums. 'Not important.'
'If not Grace,' Adrian trills, carefully. 'And not Grace body. Then what goes in capsule to Earth?'
The Council start singing between themselves. It's not a true Thrum. It's just an intense discussion about how to word a message that'll say 'we have your scientist and you're not getting him back' in a way that won't trigger an interplanetary war. At one point, Rocky chips in to suggest they write 'if you want Grace, you'll have to come and prise him from our cold, dead claws, motherf–'. Anyway, he's vetoed from the conversation after that, and turns back to me.
'Read message again?' he asks, so I do.
Earth had included a translation into Braille. A nice touch for a blind species that's hampered - again - by the fact that I can't read Braille, so wouldn't have taught it to the Eridians.
'…if whatever remains of Dr. Ryland Grace could be returned to his home planet,' I finish.
Rocky makes a wobbly crooning noise of mild displeasure.
'Rocky not like Grace long name. Stupid.'
I laugh and lightly kick the barrier between us.
'What, you don't like 'Dr. Ryland'? I worked hard for that doctorate, Rock!'
Then, I shrug.
'That's how they'll be referring to me back on Earth. Probably exclusively. Dr. Ryland Grace, Microbiologist, Civilian Interstellar Astronaut and Savior of the Planet,' I say with a grimace. 'Humans like epithets and titles and full-naming people.'
Rocky lets out a succession of descending notes. Distaste and repulsion.
'On Erid, Grace just 'Grace'. Sounds more correct. Suits better.'
'Yeah,' I smile at him. 'I'm just Grace.'
I stop and stare at the message. 'Whatever remains of Dr. Ryland Grace…'
'Oh. Oh. Guys…'
Dr Hernandez-Park waves cheerily as they pull out their chair and sit next to Damien Keller, Administrator of NASA. On his other side is Eileen Ying, Head of Public Relations.
Damien smiles a curated warm-and-approachable-yet-carefully-distant smile at the assembled press. He shuffles the papers in the folder in front of him.
'Okay. We all ready to go? Eileen?'
'Ready when you are, Dam,' she nods at him.
'Roderick, you guys got your microphone on, this time? Wouldn't want a repeat of the Artemis IX press conference,' he jokes at a BBC reporter who gives him a thumbs-up.
The cameras start to roll.
'Good morning,' he says, shifting seamlessly into professionalism. 'As you may all be aware, the Impavid capsule re-entered the solar system, twenty-eight days ago. Since then, we have tracked its progress. It is due to pass by Mars in the next fifteen hours, at which point it will set itself on a trajectory back to Earth. We expect splash-down within seven days and then we will be able to confirm humanity's first established contact with an Extraterrestrial species.'
A murmur travelled around the room at that. Excitement, suspense, fear; Dr. Hernandez-Park wasn't sure but it was definitely a reaction.
Damien flashed a reassuring smile.
'May I take this moment to remind my fellow humans of the clear evidence presented in Dr. Ryland Grace's video diaries from onboard the Hail Mary. There is nothing to suggest that the people of 40 Eridani will be anything other than peaceful.'
'We will now take questions,' Eileen smoothly took over. 'Yep - Shafali?'
'Shafali Green, CNN,' a woman in a grey, pinstriped suit, stood up. 'It is true that NASA believes there was a delay between the Eridians receiving Impavid and sending it on its return course? What do you believe caused that?'
Damien angles his body towards Dr. Hernandez-Park.
'Rayne, you want to take this one?'
'Of course,' they lean forward in their seat slightly. 'Dr. Rayne Hernandez-Park, Mission Lead. Yes, we think there was a delay of roughly one Earth year before they sent Impavid back to us. We can't be sure why until we get our hands on the capsule but, well…'
They look between the two other occupants of the table. Eileen nods imperceptibly. Rayne takes a deep breath and turns back towards the reporters.
'All we know of Eridian culture comes from what little we could glean from Dr. Grace's diaries. That means we know very little about their cultural practices around death. It–' they falter for a second, clearly deciding how to put their thoughts across as delicately as possible. 'We do not know how easy our request was. It may have been very difficult for the Eridians to retrieve Dr. Grace's remains, if it was even possible at all…'
The inside of the Impavid capsule smells of ammonia but the computer readings indicate only trace amounts. The air inside is mainly argon. Clearly, the Eridians had pushed argon into the capsule after sealing to vent the ammonia.
Rayne smiles. Good thinking, guys. Thanks.
They wave to the assembled group behind the plexiglass divide.
'It's all good!' they point to the capsule. 'Just argon! They must have kept a record of how we work after Rocky got home. I'm gonna keep the mask and goggles on, though, just in case. Okay,' they say and start to undo the clasps on the internal cavity's door. 'I'm not sure what we're going to find in here. I don't–' they shake themself a little. 'Let's try to keep an open mind, alright?'
The internal cavity is big enough for a man around 6 feet tall and of slender build to stand up in. This was purposeful.
Everyone behind the plexiglass winces as the door swings open in Rayne's hands.
There is a few moments of astonished silence from everyone in attendance.
'It's… empty…?' Damien asks over the speakers, desperation starting to color his voice. 'It can't be empty, Rayne.'
'I… don't understand…' they say. 'No, wait! Oh, my God.'
Everyone clamours to look as Rayne ducks down on their haunches and reaches into the very bottom of the capsule. After a few seconds, there's the hiss of a small vacuum lock releasing and a soft 'scrunch' that sounds like velcro tearing apart. Then, they stand up and turn around.
'It's a fucking iPad.'
It's not an iPad but it's definitely a type of tablet computer. The sleek, black shell is made of xenonite and the flexible screen has been made for pictures, written language (in English and Eridian), and some sort of tactile display where letters, numbers and diagrams rise up to a depth of 5mm.
It also, to the surprise of everyone crowded around Dr. Rayne Hernandez-Park, has a USB C port.
There is a desperate search in which drawers are opened and rifled through, and phone calls to technology museums are made. Then, someone manages to rig up a USB C-to-Nano USB X adaptor and they can finally get the thing connected to a wall display in the board room they're all squashed into.
The tablet is absolutely crammed full of data.
There's an in-depth, interactive English-to-Eridian dictionary, the authoring of which is attributed to 'Grace and Emmet (and Rocky!!!!!)'.
There is seemingly every recorded piece of Eridian mathematical study, engineering project, and literature; and a document in the same folder that simply reads 'I'm too busy to translate all this! Learn Eridian or suffer! –Grace xoxo'
And, in a folder by itself, there is a video file titled dr_ryland_grace_home_video.mp4 which is 32 minutes long.
The video starts and a horrifying spider monster launches itself towards the camera with an unholy, multi-layered screech. A human voice behind the camera let's out a brief high-pitched scream before descending into laughter.
'You're a dumbass, Rock!' the voice of Earth's first interstellar astronaut and humanity's savior, Dr. Ryland Grace, admonishes goodnaturedly as Rocky lets out a staccato trill that's almost like a laugh. 'How's that for Anthro-Eridian relations?'
Rocky, in his clear xenonite suit, settles back so he's properly in frame.
'Okay. Go for it.'
Rocky issues a series of quick chords.
'Nah, I'm gonna do subtitles afterwards.'
Why Grace not translate as Rocky speaks?, subtitles flash at the bottom of the screen as Rocky sings.
Grace sighs dramatically.
'Because I don't wanna, buddy.'
Hearing Eridian translated into English by fluent speaker of both in real time far more useful than written language.
'Trust me: they'd prefer it this way.'
Lazy lazy lazy! Rocky points angrily off-screen. This is message to Earth! Grace make all other Eridians look bad! Grace bad bad ba–
The camera cuts to black abruptly for a couple of seconds before the picture appears again. Rocky is notably calmer. He begins to speak to the camera in a series of chords, trills, whistles and hums.
Hello, Earth! Subtitles crawl, in English, across the bottom of the screen as he talks. Eridians choose Rocky to give first message because Rocky first Eridian ever met by a human! Grace also here.
A pale, five-fingered and very human hand waves in front of the lens.
Humans ask Eridians for Grace body but Eridians cannot do this. Erid is Grace home, now. Grace needed by Eridians.
'I'm not being held hostage!' Dr. Ryland Grace qualifies in a rush. 'I want to be here!'
Grace want to be here. Eridians want Grace here. Rocky want Grace here. Grace most important being to Rocky.
'Aww, buddy,' Dr. Ryland Grace's voice sounds thick and full of emotion. 'You're the most important being to me, too.'
The picture wobbles momentarily as the camera is placed on something and Dr. Ryland Grace comes into frame. He uses a cane to walk, then sinks down carefully until he is sat next to Rocky. He slings an arm around Rocky in comfortable familiarity.
'I'm sorry,' he tells the camera. 'No. Actually, that's a lie. I'm not sorry. I'm happy here. I have friends and a family and a job I love. I'm 'Uncle Grace' - can you believe it?!'
Rocky cannot. Teaching offspring is job only entrusted to most intelligent Eridians. Grace stupid.
Dr. Ryland Grace kicks one of Rocky's legs and chuckles.
Earth cannot have Grace. But, Rocky tilts his carapace to lean very lightly against the human next to him. Earth can see what remains of Dr. Ryland Grace.
The camera stops again. When the picture returns it's to a large classroom. Two dozen Eridian youth are clamouring in their seats, all waving and chirping wildly in the camera's direction.
'Yeah, yeah. Okay, okay,' Grace says, as he walks out from behind the camera, cane tapping on the ground with every other step. 'You guys have never heard of not breaking the fourth wall, huh?'
There is a large, clear xenonite barrier bisecting the room. On one side is tiered seating - much like a lecture theatre - with all the seats occupied by young Eridians. On the other, is a number of tables containing jumbled equipment, a board (one half wipe-clean white for writing, the other a much larger version of the tablet's flexible screen), and what looks like a complicated electronic organ.
Grace taps over to the organ and sits down behind it.
'Don't look at the camera! Just ignore it!' he calls, and plays a series of chords at the same time. 'Hey! Who's the teacher? Over here!'
The Eridians eventually settle down and turn their attentions towards Grace.
'Finally! Thank you. Okay, where were we last time…? Oh, yeah! We were thinking about aerodynamics and the effect of drag…'
As Grace plays, his voice rises and falls; his pitch naturally changing to match the sound of the musical language he is playing. He soon forgets about narrating his lesson for the benefit of the camera as he expounds to the class, takes questions, and talks animatedly. His spoken language drifts away into melodic hums, whistles and clicks, and his smile grows wider and wider and wider.
The picture cuts to a pebbled beach. A few metres away from the camera, Grace is lying on his back; one of his legs is stretched out, and the other is bent at the knee. Two small Eridians in their own xenonite suits are sat either side of him. He has his head propped on the body of a third. In his hands, is a yellowed, weather-beaten paperback book; the pages soft and worn by time.
'FIZZY LIFTING DRINKS, it said on the next door,' Grace reads, seemingly unaware of being recorded. '“Oh, those are fabulous!” cried Mr Wonka. “They fill you with bubbles, and the bubbles are full of a special kind of gas, and this gas is so terrifically lifting that it lifts you right off the ground just like a balloon, and up you go until your head hits the ceiling – and there you stay.”
'“But how do you come down again?” asked little Charlie.
'“You do a burp, of course,” said Mr Wonka.'
The three young Eridians let out a chorus of staccato trills and whistles, laughing uproariously at their uncle reading about something so uncouth and taboo.
'“You do a great big long rude burp, and up comes the gas and down comes you!' Grace continues, chuckling along with the kids. '"But don’t drink it outdoors! There’s no knowing how high up you’ll be carried if you do that. I gave some to an old Oompa-Loompa once out in the back yard and he went up and up and disappeared out of sight! It was very sad. I never saw him again.”'
Grace is sat on a chair in the middle of the Council Chamber in a human-shaped xenonite suit. His cane is balanced across his knees and he has his arms folded, as best he can.
Grace gave human thinking machine to Eridians, a large, ancient Eridian rumbles and it sounds like this is an argument that has happened many times before. It is just to do the same.
'I don't know, Zig,' Grace shakes his head. 'It's your call but I don't think it's a good idea.'
Why?
'Humans are dangerous,' Grace says, and tries to scratch at the stubble on his cheek. 'They're bad enough with their own technology. I don't think it's wise to give them ours, too.'
Grace can be trusted and Grace is human.
Grace blinks. For a split-second, he looks - for all the world - like he had forgotten that he's not native Eridian.
'Okay,' he concedes. 'Okay. Perhaps it's worth taking a punt. You can't be trustworthy if you're not trusting, right?'
The council of Eridians hum in agreement.
The camera turns back on and Grace grins at it from his wheelchair.
'That's perfect! Now just put it down on– yep! Thanks, Adrian.'
The picture jiggles a little as the camera is propped up on something.
Rocky cannot believe Grace recording this. Bad friend. Immature.
Grace laughs from his side of the table. Rocky is on the other and between them is what looks like a game board. It holds around thirty pieces of different sizes, shapes and textures which are scattered around the board in carved-out divots, hills and channels.
The three young Eridians from the previous recording are sat at their feet. Adrian comes into the shot and reaches to ruffle Grace's greying hair kindly.
This getting long again, they say like a parent to their teenager. Falling in eyes. Grace can still see well?
Grace see too well, Rocky grumbles. Grace grow hair more. Make sight worse, he says, pointing a finger at Grace.
'Now, now, Rock. Don't be a sore loser.'
The children chitter in the excited and amused way that is universal to kids of all species when seeing their parents getting dunked on.
Grace reaches across the board and snags a mirror-smooth, triangular pebble. He moves it around the board, while counting out alien numbers obnoxiously loud, and places it down in a semi-circular pit in the centre of the board.
Adrian and the young Eridians burst into thunderous celebration. Rocky makes a complicated gesture at Grace with his two front limbs that can only be rude. Grace's grin is huge and unguarded.
The picture takes a second to focus on the two figures in the distance. They are travelling away from the camera, down the beach.
Water licks at the wheels of Grace's wheelchair and Rocky keeps a steady pace next to him. They are both gesturing expansively as they talk.
Behind the camera, Adrian hums happily.
Over the sounds of the artificially-created wind and the mechanical waves, the laughter of two aliens rises. It is very hard to tell them apart.