Chapter Text
Life on Erid is… really dang peaceful.
Seriously, Grace doesn't think he's ever been so stress-free in his entire existence. It's pretty awesome, if he's being honest.
Alien movies always seem to have someone adopt a weirdo looking alien and keep it on their farm in Iowa (or something. Do alien movies do that? Grace hasn't actually watched that many), but here, he's the weird alien. And it's awesome! He's kind of always thought being a cat would be nice—just lay around all day and some strange other creature will come around and feed you periodically and give you all the love and attention you could ever like.
That always sounded like a dream. And it kind of is, actually. Although Grace does an awful lot more than a house cat would, and chews on significantly less plastic.
At first, the idea of never going back home to Earth had been… terrifying. He'd expected to die out in space and had been as okay with it as he ever could have been, but he was still horrified by the idea. Then Rocky had stepped in and given him the Astrophage needed to go home! Then the Taumeoba escaped containment, and Grace chose Rocky over going home.
Ryland doesn't regret that choice at all, though. He still sent the beetles back to Earth, and they'd be saved. He did it. In a few years time, Earth will have the solution to the Astrophage problem right in the palm of their hands. That's all Grace ever really wanted. Going home has never been a priority, really, so he isn't upset about it not happening. The Hail Mary is fixed, and he could go home if he wants, but…
Grace doesn't want to go back all that much, oddly enough.
The Earth Grace one called home isn't the Earth that exists anymore, he supposes. Stratt had put a lot of effort into buying time for the Hail Mary mission to come up with a solution, but it could have only done so much.
Is anyone Grace cares about even still alive? It's a Schrödinger's box Grace would rather not open. If he ever comes back to Earth just to find out his friends, students, and coworkers hadn't made it through the crisis—
It's better not to think about it and just believe in the possibility everything turned out as okay as it ever could have. Besides, Grace is pretty sure this is the best life will ever get for him, and he means that in a very good way.
The Eridians make him feel more considered and cared for than he's probably ever been. They made him a swanky little human sized terrarium, made him the nicest house he's ever lived in (and he doesn't have to pay a dime for it!), and he has a class of excitable Eridian children to teach. Really, he couldn't ask for much more. Rocky and Adrian are some of the best friends Grace has ever had, and the Hail Mary had pretty much the entire human internet uploaded into it, so it's not even like he's bored. He's started playing a lot of Minesweeper, recently, for some reason. And the 'no internet' dinosaur game. And Tetris. Okay, maybe Grace has been spending a lot of time doing random things on his laptop, but to be fair, this amount of free time is all new to him.
There's very little for him to worry about, on Erid, after all. He has lessons to plan, but that's honestly it. Other than that, there's nothing for Grace to stress himself out about.
That feeling's still pretty odd. Grace is used to worrying about anything and everything. But there's well and truly nothing to worry about. Other than the aforementioned Schrödinger's cat that is the state of the Earth right now. But one can only do so much dooming about the same topic, he supposes. He's shockingly okay with not knowing, somehow. It's better than going home only to find out he'd been too late.
So, instead of worrying about it, he just does literally anything else.
Today, it's sitting on his couch and watching downloaded episodes of some medical drama. Tomorrow? Who knows!
He's only half paying attention, if he's honest. Grace can feel his eyes beginning to droop and he really couldn't care less if he falls asleep on his couch. Time to spare, and all that, why not take an impromptu nap on his couch? Who's gonna stop him?
Rocky, apparently. There's a very loud, very frantic knocking on Grace's front door that could only come from one Eridian in particular.
"Hmmnph," Grace groans, dragging himself off of his couch sluggishly. He definitely feels like the weird, leaky blob of alien flesh he is right now. He'd been so comfy, gosh dang it, Rocky, why did you have to interrupt?!
"Grace come out now Grace now now now," Rocky is saying through the doorway. He sounds urgent. Well, he kind of always does when he wants Grace to open the door; that little guy has zero patience, but this urgency feels different. It sounds almost panicked.
Ryland Grace opens the door and he does not freak out. He channels the same energy he'd use if a student were to come to him in a time of need, and he stays cool, calm, and collected. "What is it, buddy?"
"New human! Found new human statement. In weird craft that crash on Erid."
Ryland Grace is no longer calm. "You… WHAT?!"
---
The Eridians bring the weird vessel into Grace's enclosure, assumedly with the other human still inside.
There are far too many thoughts to unpack in that statement alone. Another human? On Erid? In some kind of space craft? What???
Things get even weirder when Grace is brought to where the craft was placed. That is… not a spaceship. It doesn't look like one, at least. It looks more like a submarine. A submarine with a suspicious red liquid caked into its crevices and a door that's welded shut. It's too dark to see into, but everything about it screams bad bad bad.
"Uh, Rock," Grace speaks up. "Are you sure there's something alive in there? A human alive in there?"
"Yes can see through wall. Heart beat like Grace."
Well that's kind of horrifying. Very horrifying, actually, this feels like the start to a really bad horror movie. The concept of someone being inside that thing, being alive inside that thing, welded shut from the outside? It means someone probably trapped them in there. Maybe this mystery person consented to it, but Ryland kind of doubts that's the case. Who would just agree to be welded into a claustrophobic looking maybe-submarine, travel somewhere that would make your vessel covered in probably blood, and then end up on an alien planet somehow? That just sounds insane.
There's no way this is someone Earth sent in search of Grace, is there? No, why would they? Project Hail Mary was a suicide mission and not enough time has passed for the beetles to have made it back to Earth yet; they have no idea where he is. This is something entirely unrelated.
They have no idea who's inside that thing. It could be a serial killer or some weird mutant thing society had been trying to get rid of for all Grace knows. Rocky says it's a human inside there but what if it's not? Who's to say some other planet didn't have a creature develop a heart similar enough to humans for Rocky to mistake it as one? It's not like the guy has many reference points.
It's a horrifying prospect, but Grace can't just leave whatever's in there alone. Rocky says he can hear a heartbeat, so whatever it is, it's alive. Grace can't just leave whatever—whoever is in there, to die a slow and miserable death. It just doesn't feel right. There's no way he can do it.
"Lets get them out of there. Are they conscious do you think?"
Rocky looks at the… submarine thing. "Don't think so. Heartbeat slow, like when Grace sleeps."
Grace isn't sure if that's better or worse. Better, probably, because if they stay asleep, Grace doesn't have to worry about their new (hopefully friendly) guest pulling out a weapon on them or something.
"What if this thing is, like, a bomb or something? The door was welded shut, whoever threw this thing into the cosmos probably didn't want it open."
"Not bomb, Rocky sure."
"Well, alright then."
The Eridians get to work on cutting open the door, and with every passing second the persistent smell of blood keeps getting worse and worse. It smells like some kind of corpse in the early stages of decay, and Ryland has to force back the urge to gag. "You're sure there's something alive in there, Rock? It sure doesn't smell like it."
Rocky makes the Eridian equivalent of a huff. "Rocky sure."
For the first time in what feels like forever, Grace has something to be genuinely anxious about. It's not a feeling he's missed, to be certain. Everything about this just feels so darn wrong, and every survival instinct he has is telling him this is a bad idea, but… Rocky's sure something's still alive in there. And if something's alive in there, it's gotta be suffering.
They get the probably-submarine open, and Grace has to turn away to vomit. The inside is absolutely drenched in blood. He thinks the Eridians pull something out of it but Grace can't bring himself to look.
"New human alive," he hears Rocky say. "Need medical attention."
There is a small team of Eridian doctors who have done their absolute best to learn human medicine for Grace's sake. With the sheer amount of information loaded onto the Hail Mary's databases, there had been plenty of textbooks and medical journals for them to familiarize themselves with, but all that knowledge is theoretical. Grace hasn't exactly had any major injuries for them to practice on, and someone who had likely been drowning on the blood stuck in their submarine probably needed more intensive care than they're equipped to give.
Grace doesn't think whatever was in there will make it.
---
The next few hours blur together, after that. Grace doesn't actually register how much time passes, but he does register Rocky's presence.
"New human still alive. Recovering. Take you to him?"
Grace nods and pulls himself up onto shaky legs. Rocky leads Grace to his own house and over to the nannybot, who seems to be taking care of its newfound patient.
It's… a man. A probably human man. Probably, because his face is… odd. His mouth seems to rip at the left side to reveal a set of long, sharp teeth. But other than that, he seems human enough.
The Eridians did a good job of cleaning him up, and seem to have put him into a new set of clothes—stuff from Ryland's closet he doesn't actually wear all that often. He's free of blood and tucked gently into bed, and it's such an oddly peaceful sight.
"New human missing arm statement," Rocky says. "Many injury. Bad bad bad."
He's missing an arm? "Like, it's a fresh wound type of missing an arm?"
"Yes."
Ryland takes a long, calculating breath.
What could have possibly happened to this guy?