Chapter Text
It didn't even matter how many days it had been anymore. All Grace knew was that they had run out of food 3 days ago—even the coma slurry. Everyone was restless. They weren't working together anymore, they only slept in the same room because they had to.
Grace winced, curled up in the lab as he listened to Ilyukhina curse in Russian, banging around something in the dormitory. Above, Yáo was muttering under his breath, pushing various buttons. Occasionally, either one of them would drop something off in the lab for him to study, scowling, not saying a word. Though sometimes they would mutter something in their native tounge when they thought he couldn't understand. He did, though. He’d been around them long enough to know they blamed him for the mission failing.
They often wished it had been him who died in the explosion. So they would have Dubois, or even Shapiro, as their scientist instead. Someone better. Someone smarter. But this was their best option. A lazy excuse for a scientist. He looked at his hand. Bonier. Frailer. They had gotten much older. He suspected himself to be… mid to late 50s, probably.
This… mission had to succeed. They still had time, but time was nothing if they all died out here. Time was nothing if they kept fighting until their dying breath. But what could he do? He was always a coward. He knew that now. And he had told the others about his discoveries with his memory before even the small bickering started. So they knew he was an easy target. Easily pushed around.
“Russian,” Yáo called Ilyukhina to the control room over the intercom, likely to gather another sample. On her way up, she snarled at Grace. She was likely in the worst condition out of all of them. She was already a naturally petite person, that, combined with her self-destructive nature, and having run out of vodka months ago, made her much thinner and noticeably battered and bruised. Still, Grace was too much of a pushover to fight back when she pushed him down. Grace curled slightly tighter as he listened to the two bicker above him. It didn't take long before she was back, tossing a sample slide at Grace, deliberately aiming for the head.
A small pulse of pain throbbed through his temple for a moment, the blood rushing to his head almost drowning the sound of her muttering something under her breath, it was Russian, but he had spent enough time with her and Yáo to know a little Russian and Mandarin. He picked up “stupid,” “American,” and “mistake”
He took a deep, heaving breath before pulling himself off the floor and picking up the sample slide. He still had a job to do, at least. It could keep him busy, keep his mind off of the destruction of Earth and himself for a while.
He stared at the same slide for hours under the microscope. He was dizzy. It had been 3 days or so since his last meal. He took another sip of his water to try to curb the hunger. At least the water recycling system still worked. It was the same thing he had been looking at in each sample he was given. He didn't know what he could possibly do with the exact same data.
But the dizziness wasn't the only reason he was staring at the slide for hours. Soon his crewmates would head to sleep. He preferred to work in the lab alone, while everyone was asleep. There was less tension. Less curses and objects being thrown at him. Eventually Yáo passed by, heading down to the dormitory.
“Are you sleeping today, American?” his voice was gruff. Grace was facing away from him, couldn't see his face, but felt the sharpness of his stare anyway.
“No, Yáo. I'm working.”
“Tch.” he turned back toward the dormitory, muttering “not working much” under his breath in Mandarin.
Grace let out a slightly relieved sigh as the hatch closed, and he was finally alone. He knew the routine by now. He would listen to Yáo and Ilukhina fight for anywhere from 30 minutes to 3 hours until it finally went silent and he could actually work.
Today it didn't take much before the fighting started. It started with a loud clang on the hatch. Ilukhina had likely thrown something at Yáo’s head. Then came the shouting. Grace let out a strained breath as he closed his eyes, his temples pounding.
It lasted about an hour and a half today. The yelling was muffled, but of course there was loud enough that Grace could make it out. They talked about him a lot this time. What if they were planning on kicking him out? Sending him through the airlock? They couldn't do this without him! He was the scientist! He was by far the most important person here. He gripped his pants and snarled slightly, shaking softly.
He tried to shake off the feeling. They wouldn't do that. They were mean, but they weren't insane. Not yet, at least. They knew he was important, even if they thought he was stupid or didn't deserve to be here. He was fine with that. He didn't need to be a hero, they could have that if they wanted. He just… wanted something to do. Something to stimulate his mind so he didn't go crazy.
His hands worked without much direction, leaving his mind to continue wondering without thinking about what he was doing. Mindlessly writing down data as he performed various tasks. This used to excite him! The first few months or so, his mind wandered constantly with different theories, jotting things down excitedly. Even if he didn't have his memories, he was excited to be doing this much science. His comrades were also the perfect company!
That made him pause for a moment. Shaking with his pen halted on the paper. How things used to be, before everything went to shit. They made it a good year or two without a single fight! They were friends. But then, of course, small bickering started, as no solution was found. Grace found himself the mediator of a lot of these small fights, reminding his crewmates that they still had time, and still had more things to discover and more things to figure out. It wasn't over! But by the time they started making jabs toward him, most hope had been lost already. This was over. They weren't getting anywhere. And yet… they still did the same thing, day in, and day out. For what reason? This was over. That's when things really ramped up. When they started going stir crazy. When they started isolating. Which only made things worse, honestly.
Grace huffed slightly, closing his eyes and shaking it off. He did the same thing every day because there was nothing else to do. He needed to do this job. Or else he would go crazy faster. Maybe put himself in the airlock before the others did. It was all but a miracle Ilukhina hadn't started using her heroin already after her vodka ran out.
Multiple different times, he's tried to search for things the three of them can do. Researching on the laptops what small societies did in hardships, when it got really bad. He found it often ended in genocide or cannibalism. He decided not to tell the others his findings. If they actually wanted to find a solution, they would have done the same as him anyway. Though… his mind still wandered to the idea sometimes. What if they did? What if he brought it up, and they actually liked the idea of cannibalism? Of eating one of them for the good of the mission? Would they draw sticks? Have a discussion? Compare who had more meat on their bones? Or would it just be a free-for-all where they all tried to kill each other, and everyone ended up dead in the end?
Well… if that was even a possibility, it would have to happen soon. They wouldn't last too much longer before they had so little “meat” on their bones that it wouldn't be worth it anyway. Sure, there was bone marrow. But that wasn't much, and that was often a last resort. They weren't at their last resort yet, right? They could still try astrophage, for example! What if Grace found a way to cool them down enough? Or pull nutrients from them?
Damn, he was hungry. And he kept just… throwing up water and bile. Was he going to be the first to die? He couldn't be! He was too important! He, out of all of them, needed to survive! Anyway, Ilyukhina was the frailest. She would die first.
Was human meat still good if it died from natural causes?
Grace! What was that? You can't eat Ilyukhina. You can't eat yáo. It isn't right. They are just as important to the mission. They were good people. Even if that was hard to believe now. They still believed in the mission, they still tried their best for the mission. They were... All in the same boat here. Anyway, did he really want to be alone?
Well, really, what difference would it make? They weren't much company anymore. He was pretty much alone most of the time anyway. Yáo mostly stayed in the control room, and Ilyukhina mostly stayed in the dormitory. Leaving Grave alone in the lab. They… used to be nearly attached at the hip! Following each other around to their various tasks… it was so unfair that things turned out this way.
His stomach turned, and he hurled over the counter, throwing up more water and bile. He trembled slightly as he clutched his stomach. He couldn't survive like this much longer. He couldn't help but let out a pathetic sob. No doubt he would have been bullied relentlessly if the others had heard him. He clutched his teeth as he shook. Fuck this. He couldn't do this anymore! The earth was likely already in a famine. It wasn't his fault if he turned to cannibalism. Likely half of the world had already turned to cannibalism! He was no different than the rest of humanity, having a desperate need for survival. That's the whole reason they were out here in the first place.
He snarled and pushed his notebook and the sample slide to the floor, making an audible clatter to the ground. It was time for a bit more research.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
He was breathing heavily. Shaking. His eyes hurt. His head hurt. His whole body ached. He felt deranged, but he finally had a plan. His course of action was scribbled on his notebook paper, the last one in the notebook. The rest of the pages were torn out, crumpled all over the floor. He had to recharge the laptop about 3 times.
He kept talking himself out of it, then a hunger pang would strike, and he had himself convinced all over again. He had so many different ideas. Many of them, including Yáo’s gun. But even if he knew where it was, only Yáo had the combination. Plus, he wouldn't feel very comfortable eating meat from the bullet hole. He wanted as much usable flesh as possible, damn it!
Of course he also thought about using Dubois’s nitrogen, just flooding the dormitory with it while they slept. Though he wasn't sure just how airtight the hatch or the walls were. There was a possibility that the nitrogen would seep in, killing Grace too. It wasn't a possibility he was willing to risk.
So, eventually, he landed on this. His hands shook wildly as he grabbed a scalpel from one of his drawers. This was risky. They could wake up before his procedure was done. Though neither one of them were very likely able to fight him off. He knew how insane he sounded. But he tried not to think about it. His eye twitched slightly as he stood by the hatch for a few moments, taking a deep breath. He pressed the scalpel to his fingertip, slowly pressing harder and harder until he saw a small bead of blood under the blade.
He furrowed his brows slightly was he really this far gone? He didn't feel a single thing, watching the blood trail down his index finger. He thought he was the most sane one on the ship. He didn't even feel joy. He hardly registered the pain. His stomach didn't flip, he didn't throw up… well, he was resorting to cannibalism. That takes… a dedicated amount of numbness. Maybe this was good, maybe it meant the act itself wouldn't break his mind any further.
He opened the hatch and took a small breath, carefully climbing down the rings before landing. Trying to be quiet. The others knew he snuck in to fall asleep many hours after they had often. So maybe, even if he had woken one of them, they wouldn't be disturbed too much by the sound or movement.
He carefully approached the nearest bed. He didn't know who it was. Couldn't make it out in the darkness. Maybe it was better that way. He placed a hand approximately where the neck was, feeling the skin underneath his palm twitch, though they didn't wake. Good. He carefully lifted the head, being oh so careful, oh so gentle with his movement. The moment the scalpel touched the base of their skull, a hand shot up to his wrist, Ilyukhina snarling, “Hey- what do-” but she couldn't say much else after he cut into her brain stem.
He stood over her body for a few more seconds. It was surprisingly easy. Surprisingly simple. The scalpel helped, being so amazingly sharp and precise. He couldn't help but smile. No more objects being thrown at his head. No more babbling about wishing she were drunk. No more screaming.
He took a soft breath and went to carry her body to the refrigeration chamber. She needed to stay as fresh as possible if he wanted to stretch out his meals. Food. He had food. Wonderful, delicious food. He carefully made his way back to finish off Yáo. Which was almost too simple. He was a deep, deep sleeper. He again took a few moments just standing over the body, this time watching the dark liquid pooling on the pillow.
He could figure this out on his own. He was the most important person here. He was smart. Much smarter than either of them gave him credit for. He could do this. Neither of them would have any idea where to start if they were on their own! All he needed was Mary and Armando. Nothing and nobody else.
Though he probably could have eaten, some part of him itched to keep the empty stomach for a little longer. So he slept on it. And it was the most peaceful sleep he had in months. He smiled slightly to himself. He would freak out about the morals of it later.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
He eventually woke up to Mary’s morning announcements. He grumbled and turned over a little, practically forgetting what he had done that night, expecting something to be thrown at him as Ilyukhina yelled at him to get back to work. He lay there about 5 minutes before sitting up and looking around, still groggy.
Ah. Right. He was alone now. He couldn't help but smile slightly. It was exhilarating, knowing he wouldn't be pushed around anymore. Knowing he had food. Though, between the two bodies and his research, it would only last him maybe a month, if he stretched it really far. But that was enough time to find a different solution, right?
He went to get one of the bodies, just grabbing the first one, which happened to be Yáo. He used his freshly cleaned scalpel to take what he wanted for his breakfast, before offering it to Mary for her to heat up. Well… she was able to provide hot meals for them, so she had to have a way to cook the food, right? Even if it was microwaved meat, it was better than raw.
And sure enough, she was able to bring him a steaming plate of… Yáo. He stared at the plate for a few moments. He couldn't just back out now. Or else it would all be for nothing. He would just be alone and starving.
Yáo had actually been the one to wake him from his coma. Mary just hadn't gotten to his chamber yet, but Yáo was excited to get to work, so he woke him up. Ilyukhina was equally as excited. It was quite surprising for the two to realize Grace had no idea where he was, or who they were.
They brought him up to speed while the three ate the tube of grey “food” that was first provided to them as meals. About how he was brought onto the misson as the lead astrophage scientist. The word astrophage had brought a shudder down his spine instinctively. And how Dubois and his replacement died in an explosion, so they gave him the chance to join the mission in their place. He was put in a coma before launch because he hadn't been able to be fully trained, and it was likely easier on his body.
He remembered the odd sense of pride, knowing he was willing to risk his life to be a hero. To save humanity with his mind. He always wanted to be able to make some kind of difference. That's why he ended up settling into a teaching role. Even if he couldn't impact the world in a huge way, he could impact many tiny minds, which would add up to a bright future.
And now. He was eating human flesh. On a mission that would probably fail. That probably had already failed. But somehow he justified it by knowing there were likely many humans who had already also resorted to cannibalism, just like him. Earth was starting to die by now. Crops were likely mostly dead, other than what could be grown in greenhouses... So, so many people had already died. And... likely been consumed.
His stomach turned slightly as he stared at the now empty plate. Yáo used to be a friend. A good friend. His first friend in a long time. Grace was always so... alone. He convinced himself he liked it that way. But... sitting here, alone again, truly, he felt the seeping hands of loneliness creep in. He had no friends. And wouldn't ever have a friend again. Sure, toward the end, Yáo and Ikyukhina weren't friends anyway, but they were people. Living souls to tell him he wasn't going through his feelings alone. Living souls going through the same thing he was too. the cripiling weight of failure, of death...
What was he thinking?? If they couldn't find a solution together, how exactly was he planning on finding a solution alone? He knew nothing about piloting the ship or repairing it if it got damaged. He started shaking slightly, quivering as the weight of what he had done truly sank upon him. Maybe the hunger really had made him go crazy, to have such a delayed reaction to what he did. he killed his friends. He ate Yáo. He doomed Earth. Earth would never survive now. There could have been a slim chance of finding a solution with both Yáo and Ilyukhina beside him, but now, all alone in the vastness of space, Earth was truly doomed.
He sobbed. He couldn't do this. He must have had such an inflated ego to think he was actually important. He should have offered his own body for the others. It would have been the only way he was useful! He was the largest of the group, he could have kept them fed longer than they could keep him fed. How could he have been this stupid? This Reckless? He studied for hours before performing the task, and yet still thought it was a good idea.
"Emotional Distress-"
"Shut up, Mary!" he gripped the table as he forced himself upward, shoving the plate to the ground and clutching his head tightly. The sudden rage in the pit of his stomach was almost surprising, though he was too far down his spiral to care. He kicked the chair to the ground and let out another heaving sob. His legs felt weak, though he didn't let himself collapse until he was at his bed. He collapsed to his knees, face pressed against the bed as his breath came out in only heaving sobs.
Hours went by before he had even slightly calmed down. Even then, he was still shaking and holding himself tightly, though no more tears would fall. He slowly lifted his face from the bed, a noticeable wet spot on the sheets. He wiped his whole face with his sleeves.
"Grace?"
His entire body reacted as he stared at Ilyukhina. he pressed himself against the wall and sobbed. It was her. No doubt about it. Plainly in front of him! Was she a hallucination? Something else entirely? A spirit? She... looked the way she did when they first woke up. Alive, emotionally and physically. Her skin was almost perfect, glassy even. Her hair was put in a messy bun, though still cute. Not frazzled, not distressed... Though her eyes weren't there. At least Grace couldn't see them, covered in a dark shadow.
"I was only trying to help."
"I- I am helping! This- y-you are helping, this is good! This is... It's good, it's the only way..." He tried to press himself further into the wall, wanting to melt into it and disappear forever.
"You know that's not true." Her face contorted, shifting into an inhuman expression of rage and anguish. Cheekbones sharpening as she seemed to shift into her more current presentation. "You were the science guy! You knew you could figure something else out. You were just hungry. And bored." She smiled slightly.
"I-I- you two tormented me! I-I was so, so alone," he squeezed his eyes shut as he curled into himself again. "I couldn't handle it, I couldn't-"
"You can't do anything, can you?"
It made his chest ache as he took in a gasp of air, his eyes shooting up to look at... an empty room. He was... alone. She was never there. He... He was fine. He had to take a few moments, but he was fine. He had to be fine. It was his job to be fine, to work. He had to keep working, and he was already far too behind. He pulled himself off the ground with a grunt, shoving his emotions into the pit of his stomach. He could feel later, if he wanted. He had a job to do for three people. For... the world.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
The next month... was just like every other day before it. He almost felt like a zombie. Well, it was fitting, wasn't it? Every day, he woke up, ate whatever rationed portion of month-old meat he had portioned for the day, and got to work. He only allotted one meal a day. Enough to keep him moving, enough to make sure it didn't run out. The entire ship was a disaster. Sometimes he would find random scraps of anything he could find to curb the hunger until the next day. He was sure the wad of cotton balls in his stomach wasn't doing him much good, but at least it meant he didn't feel the hunger too much. It was just a distraction from his goals, his plans.
The lab was the biggest mess of all. He was sure he wasn't doing himself any favors by slamming machines to the floor, but anger seemed like the only safe emotion. It also helped him "scare" off the hallucinations for a while. Yáo and Ilyukhina were such pains in the ass. Every single day, whining about his mistakes, whining about how they wished they were alive. They said he had doomed them to a life in purgatory by killing them out in space. There was no afterlife out here.
Sometimes the hallucinations would intensify beyond just the two nuisances. There were no longer any mirrors on the ship because of the number of times he stared into them and found a monster staring back at him. Sometimes it made him throw up to look at, and it was just not worth it to lose the food. It... wasn't enjoyable to sit on the floor and re-consume what he had already eaten.
The ship became a jail. A prison, covered in the screams of the dead, covered in the blood of so many he had let down. He could see the news reports written on the walls, calling him a failure, telling him he was a monster, a zombie. Unfeeling, undead, inhumane...
Had he become Stratt? Is this how Stratt felt, right now, likely in a prison cell of her own? Was she alone, hearing the screams of the people she let down by being too ruthless?
It hardly mattered anyway. He wasn't done. He would never be done. He needed something to keep his hands busy, even if he was doomed to fail.
A small trickle of sweat beaded down his face as he struggled to understand the Nav panels again. This was pointless. There was nowhere to go, no one he could call for help... There was nothing out here. Just the same things he had been looking at for the last month. Until... he noticed something. A small blast of IR light shining on the Petrovascope. He furrowed his brows. He was seeing things again, right? He was... nope. There it was again. And almost... bigger than the last time? He switched back to the regular camera.
It was a ship. Large. Much, much larger than the Hail Mary. And... so much different, too. There was no way a human designed that, right? Or... maybe they had? Who knows how much technology had improved since he left Earth. Maybe they were able to send a larger team to help with the mission! That... meant they knew he had failed. That... meant more food; his stomach protested.
Food stockpile, of course. Not... anything other than that, obviously.