Archive of Our Own

You'd be surprised how pervasive boredom can be. It's only been a few hours since I realized that I'm stuck in space, lightyears from home where I will die—one way or another, but probably from starvation—and already I've discovered just how much information is stored on the ship. I started digging around out of sheer boredom amidst my panic. The inevitability might be hanging over me like a rain cloud, but that's not going to stop me from being understimulated.

The ship has psychology textbooks, which I'd thought would be a good resource for an amnesiac, but according to the research: if you get amnesia, you can't regain your memories. So… something's not right. I remembered something, earlier. All the text on memories and amnesia say that's only possible under certain specific circumstances.

Amnesia barriers stands out to me at first—mostly because gaining that first memory sent intense pain to pulse through my skull, a feeling that could definitely be compared to how I'd imagine breaking through some kind of wall within my psyche would feel—but it doesn't seem like that term applies. If this was an amnesia barrier I don't think it would just start breaking down over time like that. So I'm just remembering, which is more in line with repressed memories, but I shouldn't have repressed all of my memories. If something caused repression then I don't see why the memory I've already gotten back would have gone with the rest, or why I'd only remember after some passing time. Why it would be so physically painful to do so. It was such a happy memory.

Well, I remember a few things now. The first memory I got back, teaching a middle school class, caused a weird mixture of panic and relief. A sign of personhood. I hadn't just been grown in a lab and implanted with knowledge of atomic resolution scanning electron microscopes for some major scientific cause. I was a person before I got here, and I could learn who I was to figure out who I am. I think I like who I am, after gaining that first memory. I'd like to teach a bunch of kids to love science. That sounds fulfilling and I can't even really confirm if I like science yet. I mean, presumably, I do. If those memories are anything to go by.

But maybe I've changed since then. A few more memories have come in since then, bringing with them significantly less physical pain—just barely a twinge of a headache—much to my relief. Memories of a girlfriend, primarily. I figure something must have happened in that relationship, because in the memories I'm so infatuated; I think she's so pretty. Currently, I do not think she's pretty. Not in the way I apparently did at the time at least. I don't think of her face and think 'I wanna kiss that.' Sounds kind of revolting actually. Must have been a pretty bad breakup, but I haven't received those memories yet.

So there's a teeny tiny chance I don't even like science anymore, but I feel like I would. Maybe I should put down the psychology textbooks and find something more in my element. The idea seems immediately enticing to me so I really don't suppose I've lost any interest. In fact I'd bet my interest in it is part of the reason I wound up out here. I already calculated how long it would take to get back to earth with the amount of fuel I have on the ship; of course I didn't exactly register any joy from that daunting task. 113.8 years? Screw that.

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My next memory (major memory at least) makes me a bit worried. Less the overall memory and more the associated memories that come with it. The UNESCO conference is a brutal memory. That's humiliating. My memory self doesn't seem to think so. He remains mostly frustrated, defensive, and indignant.

"I don't know why that makes me such a nut," he'd said confidently.

Then, after making first contact, I was apparently mostly ticked off by the fact that it didn't prove a fringe theory of mine that completely undermined basically everyone else who'd ever worked in the field. I'm aware of all the theory that went into my thesis, so I guess I know where I was coming from in my theories about it, but I don't really find water–based life surviving on the sun to be a less likely occurrence than non-water based life existing. My past self threw a temper tantrum about it. He discovered life which existed outside of Earth, and he was just mad it was water based. I guess you never know how you'll react to something until it happens, and maybe I've grown a lot since then or something, but I just find his reaction… almost unbelievable.

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I keep having to file things away about myself. I am, or used to be, arrogant. I am, or used to be, indignant and stubborn but still somehow a pushover. I do, or- no. I used to feel no shame about these things. In fact I apparently had a friend named Marissa and half the memories I've gained of her are vent sessions between us.

I did enjoy teaching though, and I think that I still could. Now I know why I'm not a teacher anymore too. I was enlisted into Project Hail Mary. Doesn't explain how I ended up being the guy to be out here, but things are beginning to line up and check out a bit better. Besides the fact that I now have memories of looking at myself in the mirror (cross–referenced by my own mirror image here on The Hail Mary) confirming that those memories are actually mine.

The headaches have decreased with every new memory gained, but what has remained pretty consistent is the weird invasive feeling. Like memories are being implanted without my consent, but also like I'm invading on someone else's memories. I remember having sex once, and I have to curl into a ball with my eyes squeezed shut for a half an hour as the zero gravity causes me to bump around the ship.

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A chance at first contact leads me staring into the void of space. I came out here a bit hesitantly, but fully prepared to take the walk to catch the capsule. Until I'm staring at just how vast the expanse ahead is, and suddenly the rope I'm attached to doesn't feel adequate or safe enough. I'm a scientist, I can figure out some kind of alternative.

Turns out I'm also really clumsy and somehow manage to fling myself out of the airlock anyway. The rope is sturdy. To the point that I feel it in my stomach when I basically ricochet from the pull of it. And then there's no reason not to run across the ship to snatch the capsule.

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I've officially made first contact. Again, I guess, since my first first contact was with the astrophage. I would still call this my primary first contact because Rocky is actually sentient, but maybe I'm just biased. I know that academically speaking, I can't just say that Rocky was my first contact based on that kind of arbitrary reasoning, but… well he's my favorite first contact, I'll put it that way. What can I say, I prefer the alien I can learn from and communicate with over the alien species currently trying to eat my sun which has subsequently brought me to space. I really miss solid ground, even though it doesn't really feel like I've felt it before.

I remember what it was like. I remember taking it for granted.

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I have a memory at this point, of a girlfriend trying to talk to me about her major in linguistics. In the memory I tell her that I'm glad she's excited about it, but that I can't find it in me to be very interested. And besides, numbers are the universal language. If I have that on my side I won't need anything else.

She rolled her eyes at me in good nature.

"Sure, in your field you might not need much else. But you aren't always going to be working with other scientists. Maybe someday you'll find yourself on a plane headed towards a conference, and maybe you'll find yourself seated next to someone who speaks Spanish. Communication is important."

"What am I supposed to be saying to him?"

"Who? The theoretical Spanish speaker?"

"Yeah."

"Anything."

"Why?"

She shrugged. "You could use more friends, frankly."

"I don't need to learn a new language to make friends."

Anyway, maybe if I'd listened to her about the basics of language, this whole intergalactic communication thing would be easier or go faster.

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"And in answer to your question: I have no idea what I'm doing in space. I don't remember."

"Don't understand word. Last word."

"You know it's… Ok, yeah, so when you know something, you learned it from somewhere, and you can draw back to that in your head."

"Yes."

"That's remembering."

"And Grace is unable to do this(Question)"

"No. No I can't, I forgot."

"Grace unable to ♩♪♩♬ why here(Question)" I update the translation software, marking '♩♪♩♬' as 'remember.'

"Yeah." He doesn't respond. He doesn't move. "Rocky?"

"This… impossible for Eridians. Eridian mind strong. Eridian mind and body… fully connected. If Eridian mind suffer, body stop function. Eridian die."

My eyebrows jump. A scenario where forgetting something leads to death is terrifying. "You die?"

"Yes, ♪♩♬♩♬, but not… Rocky is guessing. Rocky not a medical Eridian. If Eridian loses memory then not common. Eridian mind strong. Maybe a medical word for no able to remember, but Rocky not know. Word Grace used for it interesting. 'Don't.' Not 'can't.' Memory is full gone(Question)"

"Yeah," I nod.

"Grace use the word for having ♬♩♪♫. Eridians all have all memories always. Don't have word like this. Closest is 'remember,' for pulling ♬♩♪♫ to front of mind." I mark '♬♩♪♫' as 'memory' and take the word I already marked down as 'remember' to 'recall' with this updated on its accuracy.

"What was that word you used a bit ago?"

"Which word Grace not know(Question)"

"I don't know. I don't know it."

"Yes yes, Grace talk about word 50, or miss one before(Question)"

"I don't know," I rub my forehead. "I don't remember."

Rocky's legs go limp and he drops to the bottom of the space he's been crawling around in. "Grace memories all go missing always always always(Question) humans brain leak memories always(Question) Normal(Question)"

I can't help laughing. "No, no. I mean, kind of. I'm not constantly forgetting everything that's happening. But we can't hold onto small details like that."

He lifts himself back up, I suppose reassured or maybe just no longer shocked. "But Grace no remember why here(Question)"

"Yeah, that's less normal. I've been slowly remembering things from before, which isn't normal either. We aren't supposed to remember things we couldn't before like that." I drag a hand down my face. "I have no idea why I'm here and I have no idea why I don't know."

We sit in silence for a few seconds.

"Scary(Question)"

"Yeah… but you know… I can't do anything about it. Other than… persist."

"Word(Question)"

"When you do something, even when its hard. And anyway, it was a lot scarier before I started remembering some things. It's easier now. I'm ok."

"Scary forgetting details(Questions)"

"Not really. It can be frustrating, but it's normal."

"This would be ♩♪♩♬♫♬♩ on Erid. Like a sickness."

"Yeah, I guess it would be." I put his new word down as 'disability' with a note that this might turn out to be a placeholder.

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When I first started getting memories of a girlfriend I assumed we'd broken up, because I don't feel the same attraction I remember having for her. Whenever I need to stop myself from just panicking about my situation, she never comes to mind. I think about the kids from my classes. That's a good motivation. I want to think that's what motivated me to volunteer in the first place, but it's hard to say. So far, with the memories I've gone through, volunteering had occurred to me, but all of those thoughts ended with 'I would never do that.'

So I'm not sure what brought me here, but I do have confirmation now that it wasn't the girlfriend. I get a memory of a breakup and a subsequent breakdown. As the memory passes, all I can think is 'Wow, get a grip.'

She was actually really nice about it. She said, "You just… always have your head in the clouds." As far as I can tell, my memory self really just took that at face value, but in reviewing this lifetime in retrospect I think I know what she meant. Pretentious. An attitude of being above it all; superior.

I keep doing this thing where I keep thinking of him… my past self… me… as a different person. Like just now, I did it two consecutive times. I go through so many memories thinking 'Why would you do that?' as if he's a different person that I'm just reacting to. I'm trying not to. Just because I don't like what I learn about myself doesn't mean I get to pretend it isn't me. Who did I think I was, lecturing the leading scholar in my field? Then I left the entire field with my tail between my legs. Not even because I actually felt shame over the incident. I just got petty about it.

He- I, at the time, was bitter that Linda broke up with me for Mark because Mark wasn't as smart as I am—or as I was at the time either—which was admittedly true. But Mark was humble in a way I was apparently incapable of being. Even when the world responded harshly to my old attitude, I didn't seem to actually get it through my head that I should stop looking down on people. I just developed stage fright from the pedestal I stayed on.

All that is to say that when Rocky asks if I have a mate, I put it gently, the way she had put it at the time. I don't want to lie about what happened, I don't want to put the fault of the situation on her. At the same time, it is embarrassing to admit the real reason to him. I'm in an early enough phase in my dynamic with Rocky that I don't want to display my apparent faults to him. We're the first contact between our species after all. I should be maintaining a good impression as well as I can.

"Rocky hate mark," Rocky says, using the same word for 'mark' I'd previously translated when explaining what the measuring tape is.

I chuckle. "You don't need to do that. Enough about me. You've got a mate. How long have you been together?"

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When the ship first introduced me to myself as Doctor Ryland Grace, it didn't really mean anything to me. It felt like a legal status. I mean, Doctor felt accurate, I guess, just because I vaguely felt pretty educated. I just knew things, confidently. It felt right, that I would be a Doctor. But I didn't feel any connection with my actual name.

But Rocky needed something to call me so I gave him Grace, because it's an actual word that we could easily translate. The more he uses it the more I'm just Grace. By now I've all but forgotten that Grace is technically my surname. My name is Grace and I have two titles now. Doctor and Friend.

Similarly, the way I view the word 'stupid' is also changing. Rocky uses it whenever he's talking about my memory issues. With my amnesia, but also my normal human memory. Thinking back to those psychology textbooks, I guess from his perspective I have some type of anterograde amnesia. He also uses the word 'stupid' to refer to the way my brain becomes less focused when tired. I think I probably made some kind of mistranslation the first time I heard him use the word stupid, but if there's a better word for it, I can't think of one.

So now I think of 'being stupid' as specifically trying to engage with something you are too limited to engage with. Like trying to work while sleep deprived.

That leads me to this conversation, as I set up to collect the astrophage from the Tau Ceti Petrova Line.

"Wish you could see this Rock," I say. Tau Ceti-E is a marvel to look at. Vibrant greens whirl together in beautiful tides.

"Rocky can see. Boring."

"What? This is not boring," I scoff. "You're just stupid right now. Like I said, I wish you could see it."

"Ah, color. Well name is boring. Just Tau Ceti plus E. Boring."

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My world freezes when Rocky tells me he can give me the fuel to get back to Earth. I'm all tense and I can hear my own heart beating.

"I go home six years slower."

"It's too much…" I say. He's already been out here for longer than I've been alive, and I also just don't want to get my hopes up. I've mostly just been trying not to think about my inevitable end out here, though I've found some comfort in the memories of planned execution methods. No matter what happens, I won't have to starve to death.

But Rocky insists. He just wants to help me. Doesn't want me to die. I'm so relieved and so touched that he even would do that, I practically collapse with it, before hugging him. I've been trying to maintain a level of professionalism between us. We were always going to part ways. Why get attached?

Screw that. I'm attached and denying it at this point would be such a disrespect to the sacrifice he's making for me. I've been attached for a long time. I was trying not to think about it, but after this I won't be able to justify not honoring him in my memories going forward.

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I have a memory now, of going on a date with some guy. Apparently I liked guys. This is one of those things that makes me struggle to connect with who I was. Especially with this guy. Leather jacket, tattoos, and a motorcycle. Did I really fall for the bad–boy archetype? I mean, come on.

The date went ok. I can't think back on certain parts of it without rolling my eyes or cringing. The memory of butterflies in my stomach makes me nauseous, even while it makes my past self excited and happy. Super weird. This guy made him swoon a lot. I mean me. Ugh, the idea of me swooning over someone is uncomfortable. I'm going to confront that later.

The point is, I have a memory of this guy offering a ride back to my place since I'd walked. I spent about 15 minutes pacing and hyping myself up to ride on a motorcycle. In the end I did just walk back home. I couldn't get the scenario out of my head, of crashing and burning. I don't think we went on any other dates after that.

So now, on the hull, the ship starts to creak and groan, and I'm surprised.

"I'm not worried," I say out loud. Because while I am technically somewhat nervous, I'm not as much as I should be, looking at my own past statistics. Especially now that I have something to live for: life itself. Everything I've remembered about myself prepared me to be wracked with nerves right now; sick with it. Completely nonfunctional. That's what I'd been expecting before the ship even started rumbling. "Are you worried?"

"Yes."

I should be nervous. I'm going to confront that later. Right now I have an objective.

An objective that leaves me free–dangling kilometers over the surface of Adrian. I have an objective. Get this astrophage into the ship.

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Every time I get new memories it makes me a bit tired, which isn't usually a problem. The waves of fatigue don't last very long and they're not usually powerful enough to actually affect my job, unless I was already starting to get tired on my own. It's really frustrating right now though, because I'm getting a lot of memories at once while trying to watch over Rocky sleeping off his injuries. It makes sense that his state would be triggering the memories of the long drawn out process of my mother's death.

What I've learned now is that she got cancer when I was five, and it finally killed her when I was eight. It makes sense that watching over Rocky like this would trigger all these memories of staying by her side at the hospital, but it's distracting me from actually watching Rocky and so many of the memories showing up back to back is making me so drowsy it's almost pathetic. I've stayed up for periods over 72 hours before—several times in fact—both in college and working under Stratt.Probably more times than I've even remembered yet.

I can't believe I'm gaining memories of my mother's tragic death and the years of accompanying trauma surrounding the situation and the only thought I can bother having about it right now is, 'This is so annoying.' I just… I have priorities right now, and this is very inconvenient timing. I'd like to be able to worry for my friend without my memory ghosts trying to haunt me. 'Ooooh, you have a dead mom.' It's not like my Disney princess backstory is helping me process this situation any better. Ok, that's not fair. My mom is fully dead apparently and… that sucks. But this could have waited for later.

Working on the taumoeba had been able to distract me from all that until I ran out of work to do. I could watch Rocky without ruminating on his state too hard. I'd have to get the taumoeba prepared to actually save everyone at some point anyway. Preferably sooner than later. I've bred all the taumoeba to survive the CO2 of Venus' atmosphere, and now they're sitting safely in the tanks. I finished all that up two days ago and I've been pretty out of it ever since. The memories I've been gaining encapsulates far more time than has actually been passing. It's exhausting. It probably doesn't help that I did barely sleep through that days–long breeding process.

Still, the last thing I told Rocky was that I'd watch him sleep, so waking up to him rousing me from my own sleep is embarrassing. Such a relief though.

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There's so much I don't understand about myself still. I just can't understand the decisions my past self kept making, and it's strange… because that should be me. I should be able to understand better than anyone else. I seemed to understand at the time. It's not like he was… it's not like I was moving through life making arbitrary decisions on a whim. They were based on emotions that he- that I, gosh darn it!

Ok, that's another thing. I have this muscle memory instinct where I censor myself and I don't know how that didn't drive me crazy on Earth. Because it's driving me crazy now. 'Gosh darn it' screw off… Fuck. Off.

Ok, honestly the swear thing doesn't usually bother me that much, but it does make it hard to effectively express myself when I'm especially emotional. Like right now.

I just… I've been operating under the assumption that I'd volunteered to be here and… it's so hard to realize that I wasn't that person. I still feel like that person, kind of. I still feel like I volunteered, like I'm someone who would have. I can't figure out who I am, because I can't reconcile who I was with who I am. How am I someone who made a sex joke in front of the Petrova Task Force upon first introduction? 'Whoomp there it is.' How am I someone who got scared of a motorcycle? How was I perfectly content to sit alone at that bar while everyone else mingled and sang together? I crave interaction so much! How was he someone who got all warm and fuzzy inside when Stratt went up to sing? Who was fine with being alone in general, with the exception of this… disgusting pull I used to feel. It makes me shiver.

How was I someone who prioritized myself over the continuation of humanity? I would never do that… I'd… like to think I would never do that. I'd also like to think I wasn't someone who would fantasize about romanticizing Stratt.

It's funny, as I was gaining memories I was really (and honestly kind of strangely) worried that it would turn out I went on this mission out of some kind of love for Stratt. The idea made me really uncomfortable. Finding out that she wasn't my love interest in all this, that she sent me out here for the good of humanity—I'm developing even more respect for her. Honestly, it probably wasn't fair of me to look at my own disrespectful feelings towards the attraction my past self had towards her and project those onto my current feelings about her, but I was so worried about where that was going. I could only predict so much of what would happen.

Anyway, good on her. I'm not sure if she was feeling the same things towards us- Us? Me. What the heck?

WHATEVER!

Regardless. I think she did the right thing, and I have a lot of respect for her now that I wasn't letting myself give out of trepidation. What she's managed to accomplish was genuinely impressive. She has incredible leadership and prioritization skills. I hope she's still alive. Ideally, everyone would still be alive. No thanks to him.

Why couldn't I just be a good person on my own? Why was I so held up by how scared I was? That didn't matter when I was untethered outside the ship! We have stars to save!

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Rocky finds me slumped over myself after he's packed his stuff back into his ship.

"One last celebration(Question)" he asks. He says it in gentle tones. I'm not sure if he wants to stall our departure or is suggesting something he thinks will cheer me up. Or both. A small part of me is glad that our departure is covering up for my current shame. The situation makes my current state easy to explain, especially because that shame is working alongside the emotions that are to be expected when you're preparing to never see your only friend ever again. I guess that's grief. Consciously, I recognize that it does feel similar to the feeling I had when my mom died. Those early stages. Somehow it doesn't feel familiar at all, but maybe this just never gets easier. It would make sense if it didn't.

"I don't think I have it in me right now, pal."

"'Have…' Oh, I see." He's been getting better at just picking up what I'm putting down when it comes to phrases he's never heard before. He rolls close to me and just sits.

We'll have to depart sooner or later…

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Heading back to Earth, it occurs to me that I did make the choice to give up my whole world to save the Earth. I don't care about Earth anymore, not personally, but Earth—life on Earth—is more important than my friendship with Rocky. I'd prefer to go back to Earth for the sake of my own survival, and I don't want Rocky to have to watch me starve to death on the way he watched the rest of his crew die of radiation poisoning. Objectively, the best course of action is to head back to Earth, so the fact I'm giving up… what basically amounts to my life… for the Earth, it's not quite the same as sacrificing myself for the whole Earth. I can't really say that I've fully proven myself in my ability to sacrifice, but it's something.

I don't like that abandoning my friend is kind of making me feel good about myself, even if just a little bit. I'm still preserving my life by heading to Earth instead of just sticking it out in space for as long as I can manage. I like it out here, the way I liked being on Earth before. It's what my life has been; it's so familiar. One thing me and my past self have in common is that we both like routine.

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I'm being put through the ultimate trial. I caught the taumoeba in time to solve the problem on my end, but Rocky won't be able to. I know that. I don't want to put Rocky through my starvation, but if we want all of Earth and Erid to survive… I just can't think of anything that wouldn't be worth it.

I just hope he can forgive me when I become his 23rd crewmate on purpose.

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Taumoeba tastes like nothing, but feels like thick mucus in my mouth. I hate it, but it's keeping me alive. Thanks to the Blip A's completely depleted fuel tanks, we have a lot of it, which means I don't have rationing as an excuse to just not eat it. Every time I try to convince Rocky that I'll be fine to skip a meal or two he gets really distressed. Before he thought of the idea for me to eat the taumoeba, I'd had to prepare him for the perceived inevitability and I guess putting that thought in his head really did a number on his mental perception of food.

I wonder if eating would be such a social taboo to Eridians if they had to eat as often as humans do. If it would have just developed differently, socially speaking. The same way he's kind of intense about watching me sleep now, he's intense about watching me eat. The classic Eridian survival instincts I guess, in stark contrast with their own social norms.

"Look on Earth thinking machine," Rocky says. "Human body does not recognize its own hunger after hunger long time."

"I'm not going to start starving, Rocky. Eating is just a chore, but I don't plan to stop."

"Don't eat and lose appetite. Starve on accident. It happens."

"Not really."

"Happens."

"Ok, ok."

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"What Grace want do when get to Erid?"

"What, you mean the first thing?"

"No no. What Grace do for… 'pass the time.' I like the movies and for Don't-Go-Crazy, but when Rocky gets to Erid, will want go back to small engineering job. Productive. How does Grace passion?"

I smile at the phrasing. "'How do I passion?' Well we were-" I clear my throat. "I was always a teacher back on Earth and I've always… I enjoyed it." I have to stop myself from saying 'I've always thought it would be so fulfilling.' "It was fulfilling. At the time. I hope that hasn't changed after everything. Anyway," I wave my hand dismissively, "I don't really expect that to be so easily set up for me. Don't worry about it."

"No no! Grace want to teach, Grace will teach. Grace savior of Erid, now two times. Grace get what Grace want if is important." He mimics my dismissive gesture. "Eridians will not think is too much effort because Grace have much new human knowledge for teaching. Eridians know nothing about relativity, almost nothing about light. Grace teach! Will be good for Erid as well!"

"Yeah… I guess you're right."

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"Hey, Rocky."

"Hi Grace."

"Are you water–based? I just… I should probably want to know that."

"What mean(Question)"

"Do you need water to survive?"

"Yes, Eridians water–based. What mean probably want know(Question)"

"Oh, y'know," I wave my hand around vaguely. "I wrote this whole dissertation about life not needing water to evolve." I chuckle, slightly self deprecating. I was such a jack-hole about it at the time. "I was… really defensive and passionate about it."

"Not now(Question)"

"I don't know… I don't know. I remember some of the research that went into it, but mostly I just remember my general perception of… you know, my thought process about it. So I know where I was coming from with that, but I'm not… You know, I'm not really adamant about it anymore. I mean, it does seem pretty likely that life does need water to survive. That's the general consensus for a reason. I don't know."

"Oh, this is common debate on Erid."

"Oh, really? Most scientists on Earth are pretty sure."

"Earth probably does not have ♩♬♩♪♫♬. Adrian talk to Rocky about it sometimes. These are type of crystals that are… reactive. Still- Rocky mean, when Rocky left, still much debate about if this was because of some kind of life or not."

"Yeah that could be quantum mechanics or something. I would love to check them out when we get there though."

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I think all the memories I have left are so mundane that anything that might trigger them out are kind of rarer. More mundane than 'the world is ending and you're our only hope' anyway. I've accepted the reality that I'll probably just not remember a lot of what happened in my life back on Earth. That's ok, I have my own life now. There's no reason I should be expected to remember a lot of minor things. I know in general what my relationship with Marissa looked like, and that I knew her for years, but I have very few actual memories with her, and I actually have some kind of jumping off point to work with.

Just based on context clues I can guess that, as well as my mom, my dad is dead. I don't remember anything about him, or if he was ever around. Someone raised me, I have enough memories of being in a childhood home and bedroom to know that. Memories in which I'm clearly aware that someone safe is in the other room, but I don't have any memories actually interacting with anyone. I know those memories are there, I just don't have access to them. I don't think I was being neglected or anything, but what do I know? I just have the memories, and just the really important ones. Or the ones that became relevant at some point.

It's been a while since I've been able to squeeze a new memory out of my brain, but the stitching on the sleeve of my favorite sweater has come loose and unraveled. I remember knitting this. Me and… my grandma, I think. Or no, she taught me how to knit when I was younger, but I didn't actually really get into knitting until she died when I was… hard to say, definitely a teenager though. Maybe 16. I enjoyed it once I stopped worrying so much about how it made me come across and then I just got better and better.

So why am I struggling so hard to repair this now? I know on a practical level how to do this. I have memories of being good at this. I just can't get my hands to cooperate. I've maintained the muscle memory to not swear, but not for this. Great. This skill would have been way more useful and practical. I guess I should just be grateful I didn't lose my scientific prowess. That would have been bad.

"Grace enjoy this activity(Question)" Rocky asks.

"I remember enjoying it," I say with a huff. I just need to repair the sleeve, so I'm not even doing anything complicated, but all these rows and stitches are getting away from me and I'm getting pretty frustrated.

"Weird weird weird."

"Why's that?"

"We make chain, all Grace do is complain complain complain."

"Yeah well… I guess I've changed."

In the end I manage to stitch it up well enough, but it also occurs to me that my lack of coordination in my hands might be an extension of my overall lack of coordination. I don't remember tripping or falling over as often as I have been since waking up. I'm clumsier now. Side effect of the coma maybe, but it's annoying that it seems to be permanent. I'm just gonna have to get used to always being a bit bruised.

Come to think of it, I used to get nauseous on elevators. Not a lot, but enough that standing on the hull of my ship as it began to fall should have absolutely gotten to me in a way that it didn't. I know that a part of it stemmed from a fear of heights and, more accurately, falling. I was falling. And it was scary. I was fine.

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

I've already accepted that I probably won't get a good chunk of my memories back, but there's a part of me that's still asking questions about how I grew up. I've stopped thinking of my memories as a good resource for trying to figure out who I am, but I'm curious. My memories feel like cookies on a shelf too high for me to reach. I know they're up there, in my noggin.

I'm running out of things to stand on to access them, running out of triggers. I mean, surely that's not really true, but finding them is becoming so difficult.

The best way I've found to gain a memory is to watch a movie. If I've seen it before, I'll remember, but that memory usually comes back as me watching a movie alone in my apartment. It basically just feels like Déjà vu. Sometimes an older movie will strike a memory of me watching it at a movie theater or in the living room of the house I grew up in. Sometimes I'm watching it with someone, in their lap a couple times from when I was really little. It's like he was always alone, even when other people were there. And he was just… fine with that. Genuinely satisfied. It's utterly baffling to me.

The only times he ever tried to really connect with anyone was when he was attracted to them. I still wonder if Stratt ever picked up on that. Or Carl for that matter.

Maybe I should stop looking through my memories. It's starting to feel invasive. It probably should have felt invasive from the second I remembered what sex feels like, but at the time I was more concerned with my own disgust at that. And that memory came involuntarily.

The cookie jar metaphor is super inaccurate actually, especially since getting a new memory is rarely gratifying. It's really more like I'm trying to find the missing pages to someone's diary after someone already read to me the most important and noteworthy parts without prompting. I'm only looking because of the intrigue of looking at someone's diary, but… I probably shouldn't be looking at someone's diary. Sure it's my diary, but if I don't know the contents, isn't that still a little invasive? I don't know how well that logic actually holds ground but it sure feels like it.

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

We make radio contact with Erid three days before we're set to actually arrive. The delay between messages is pretty significant still, but conducive enough. Of course, Rocky's really the only one who makes any actual contact. Even if I wanted to say anything I'd have to relay it through him because no one would understand me. I'm pretty content to just watch how Rocky engages with this situation, both in direction but also linguistically, trying to keep up with what we've discussed about his standard dialect.

I sit back and listen to him explain that while this isn't the ship he left on, he is a member of the original crew that departed. Giving updates about the situation of that crew. Explaining and introducing me…

When Rocky first gave me his and Adrian's names, I did just assume they had really long names, and programmed the whole things into the software. Later he explained to me the Eridian cultural importance of introducing someone in their entirety, not just by name.

He'd introduced himself as "I Myself, Top Professional Multi–Category Engineer of Erid District 73, Rocky." He'd introduced Adrian as "My Precious Harmony Partner, Top Professional Climatologist of Erid Distict 73, Adrian"

Well, Rocky and Adrian aren't the actual translations of their real names. Eridians don't tend to have names that translate. That's why he kept calling me "Friend Grace" for a while, trying to adjust to the idea of someone whose name is just a word. He told me ahead of time that when he introduced me to Erid, he would be using the full honorific he'd assigned to me based both on my professional status as well as my social status in relation to him.

That doesn't mean I was prepared for him to describe me as, "My Precious Friend, Pilot, General Scientist, Top Astrophage Biologist of Sol 3, Grace From Sol 3, District 1."

I vaguely register after that, the process of him trying to explain the needs of a human and what I'll need to survive on Erid's surface, but it's pretty hard to keep up with the grammar and dialect even when I'm not super conscious of all the blood rushing to my face.

I'm pretty sure Rocky rushes the rest of the call. I just know he's turning off the radio and tapping the side of his barrier in the direction of my leg, a new habit he's picked up miming the comforting gesture he's seen in movies of patting for comfort.

"Grace heart beats fast," he says. "Grace ok(Question)"

"Yeah, just uh… kinda overkill, don't you think?"

"Did not… Kill(Question)"

"Just that you really talked me up pretty good."

"Grace is 'pretty good.' Grace is pilot now, Grace is skilled with and knowledgeable about a great number of sciences, Grace is top astrophage biologist on Earth."

"And I'm your 'precious friend?'" I give him a look that I hope communicates equal parts teasing and flattered. Honestly though, I'm not sure if he's well versed enough in human facial expressions or body language to pick up that level of nuance.

"Yes." He's using blunt tones, but there's an undercurrent of something I can't quite make out with my feeble human ears. Maybe he's trying to be firm about it in a comforting way, or maybe he's trying to prompt me further. Almost a question, trying to urge me to explain myself and my reaction. I have to assume the latter when he asks, "This causes discomfort(Question)"

"Well… no, I mean, sure, I could describe you that way too. It's just uh… well I guess I'm just finding myself a bit jittery." I chuckle. "I've never been, uh, 'precious' to someone." The word is a bit outside my vocabulary, which is probably making this conversation more awkward than is warranted.

Rocky tilts at me. "But Grace had mate on Earth before Mark stole mate."

I sigh. "Yeah… I did, technically."

"If Grace was not precious to mate, why mate mate with Grace." I see him shift slightly towards the translation laptop, probably registering the fact that 'mate' accounts for both the noun and verb form.

"It was just… a long time ago." I know that it isn't, but Earth feels a lifetime ago.

"Grace said 'never.'"

"Well she never used the word for it. I mean, I never did either. It's kind of an old fashioned word. No one really uses it anymore."

"Should! Is good important word for important people!" He's using his chirpy, happy tones. "People you're close to, people you love!"

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

Erid is so pretty.

I'm really trying not to let that effect wear off, because it's the only thing I have to distract myself from Rocky's absence. He has to talk with several scientists about my environmental necessities in order to ensure my survival on the surface. He was so hesitant to actually go, but there would be no progress on giving me some kind of enclosure if he didn't.

I think he's worried I'll be stupid. Won't eat or sleep if he isn't here to dictate it. That's kind of fair. The only reason I'm sticking to our established routine is because I know he'd feel so guilty if he came back to find I'd been neglecting my body. So he wins this round, and hopefully they'll be able to synthesize something actually edible for me out of the rations packed from Earth. I've been eating almost exclusively taumoeba for the past couple of years (with the exception of a couple special occasions) since I wanted them to have a good sample size. That had better have been worth it because I am so exhausted of taumoeba. Hopefully just a few more days, ideally not even that.

So I'm just staring at Erid, hoping its beauty doesn't suddenly stop being mesmerizing, debating which is more mesmerizing, Erid or Adrian. Listening to a track of the 1981 Lord of the Rings radio show in the background so my brain has something to actually think about other than pretty colors. Dual distraction, works great!

I keep wanting to watch the elevator shaft leading to my ship. It's not like I'll be able to see it returning. I wasn't able to see it going down. It's made of an opaque material, so I'm firmly ignoring it.

The second Mary announces Rocky's return I shoot off like a rocket towards the entrance. I'd expected significantly more time left.

We don't even say anything as I collide with the barrier of his xenonite ball. He presses back against me with a small churr and I can feel the warmth radiating off of him, just a bit.

Waiting was the worst part, and I don't know how he managed in space alone for so long.

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

I live on the ship for a couple more weeks of Earth time, but Precious Rocky stays with me during the construction of my zoo enclosure. Rocky hates when I call it that.

"Took long time to explain the day night cycle," he says. "Ridiculous. Not that complicated."

"Funny, I seem to recall you struggling to understand it."

"Yes, but not so long. They ask many questions that don't matter."

"So what you're saying is they wanted to know why it was necessary… and you just don't know…"

"I understand why." He scratches the ground. A show of Eridian body language very similar to a human eye roll. "Can't put it in words. We never discuss. I observe. I see the cycle play out with your sleep. Don't know the science for it."

"Fair enough. Circadian rhythm isn't exactly a social study."

"I tell them 'Grace can answer you questions if you make survive space for them' but they say 'Why this important(Question) Can just flatten(Question)'" 'Flatten' we've established a long time ago is similar to the Earth expression of 'cutting corners.' "I say 'No. Grace enclosure important.'"

"Honestly," I say, rubbing the back of my neck, "It's probably for the best if I get down there sooner than later. I could probably go a while in the dark if it means I can get down there sooner. They could put it off for a while."

"No no no. Rocky look at human thinking machine. Complete dark very bad for human brain. Long time complete dark makes depression and anxiety and hard to think at all. And hallucinate. No no no."

I'm surprised he'd even think to look into that. I've never thought about it before and I've gone into quite a few deep dives into psychology in the past, along with basically every other science of course. Sometimes it's just dark. I want to tell him that he shouldn't be so worried about it, that he's looking into information so minor, but… that actually might have gone poorly. It's hard to tell someone not to worry about something when those worries are actively validated. Instead I hug him closer. I'm already still wrapped around him, I mostly just shove my cheek back against the barrier.

"Needs to be perfect before Grace goes down…" he says. "Grace is foreign, and Eridian scientists want talk to Grace, but Grace will be spectacle, and they will stall progress for Grace enclosure to get answers. They will. Answers will take a long time. So they don't get Precious Grace until enclosure is finished."

↞⬡+¤+⬡↠

I've lived on Erid for a bit over a year now. I'm being questioned about my biology and society pretty often still, but it's a lot less of an onslaught than it was when I first got here. I used to have scientists practically banging on my door about it, they would keep me up into the late hours of the artificial night. These days I'm basically just sifting through more professional letters regarding inquiries every now and then. The questions are a lot less pressing now, and I don't struggle as much to read Eridian text as when I first arrived.

While my biodome was perfectly suitable for a human to live in upon my arrival I do occasionally get surprise updates that the Eridians (mostly under Rocky's direction) add just for the sake of my enrichment. He still gets upset when I call it a zoo enclosure. I wonder if he'd be more ok with it if he didn't have a level of personal care involved in its maintenance.

It's effectively an artificial 9PM and there's a banging on my door. I really hope it's Rocky, because at this hour, if it's anyone else then it's almost definitely an emergency. Rocky tries not to impede my sleeping cycle too much and it's not late enough for him to come in and check on whether I'm actually maintaining it myself. Which I know he does sometimes. The worrywart.

It is Rocky, to my relief.

"Hey bud, what's going on? It's pretty late."

"Yes, but Rocky has surprise for Grace."

"It couldn't wait until morning(Question)"

He waits a beat before responding. "No."

"Ok, so what is it?"

He waits another beat before putting his far leg up. For half an absurd second I think that display is the surprise before I realize he's pointing up. Curiously, I step out of the doorway and look up and around.

Stars…

For the past few years the wall of the dome would dim to an almost complete darkness for its night simulation. Enough light that I would be able to navigate if necessary, simulating the night time experience without simulating the night sky. I've never seen the proper night sky before. I've seen the stars, but that was when I was among them. These are Earth constellations. I'm getting memory flashes of looking at them. Stargazing.

Ryland loved the stars… In retrospect it makes sense why he so quickly recognized Tau Ceti in Stratt's presentation graphic. It's not exactly relevant to the field of microbiology. He just liked them…

"These are Earth constellations…" I say.

"Yes, biodome simulate Earth experience. Also Mary has much resources for Earth star charts. Eridian charts very scattered and select. Easier this way, and bring Earth for Grace!"

I shake my head. "I like it here," I say softy. "I'll take the Earth stars though."

Ryland loved Earth. Loved living on Earth. He didn't stop going to the diner for breakfast every morning even if it meant he wouldn't have the funds to retire; he didn't want to save Earth if it meant he wouldn't be able to continue living on it. It was easy to think of it as selfish when I was thinking of it in terms of my own actions and motivations. I kept thinking back to those kids in that classroom. Every one of them had potential. Ryland loved his kids, but he loved to be the one there teaching them. That was his potential.

I'm glad to have been a part of saving Earth—saving humanity. I'm proud of it! It came at the cost of waking up a new man. I still feel delusional at the thought. Even if it's non-literal, I woke up different. Humanity was saved because a man who wanted to live had his life stolen—twice, in a way. First by Stratt, then by me. He just wanted to spend the next 30 years helping people directly and being a part of their lives and he was scared and he never got to open his own eyes again.

I can't say I blame Stratt. Gosh I- Hell, I wish I could just blame Stratt. It would be a lot less complicated, but something she and I have in common is that we both recognize how unfair it would be to prioritize one man's life over everyone else's. It feels like a betrayal to (kind of) myself that I agree. Not that Ryland didn't recognize it. It's not that he hadn't considered going, and I remember his fear…

He loved the simple pleasures. Like me, he loved the beach and the fog and teaching. He loved knitting and he loved the diner and the stars and rain. He would have loved this, but it could never have been if he was still here—not for him or anyone else. It wasn't fair to prioritize him, but it wasn't fair to need to make that call. It saved humanity, but he was part of humanity too. There's no one to blame. There's nothing left to do about it except…

"Why Grace leaking(Question)"

I feel the tears tickle at my temples where they fall as I look up at the artificial sky. "The stars are really beautiful."

I wish he could see them.