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Out of his past fifty or so sleep cycles, Ryland Grace has been woken with a question twice.
The one that greets him this time is "Why Grace so loud, question?" Which is both preferable to being asked to do basic arithmetic and somewhat more baffling.
"Wha…huh?" He rubs at his eyes, trying to shed the lingering remnants of a dream and reorient himself in the present: a bridge between ships, xenonite glass, and a non-terrestrial lifeform watching over him. "Was I snoring?"
Said non-terrestrial lifeform behind an irregular array of transparent polygons gives a hum. "No understand."
The open laptop a short distance away provides the amiable translation for a few resonant notes. Of course there's no translation for 'snore'. Probably not even a comparable concept of it, if Eridian bodies shut down completely during sleep. "Grace make noise. Grace not sleep, question?"
Had his nightmares been that bad? Already the dream is slipping away. Just a fading image of dark skies and rolling waves. "No, I slept." Feels like part of him is still sleeping. Grace gathers his sluggish limbs and half-sits, propping himself against the xenonite as the blanket pools in his lap. "Humans just do that sometimes, I guess. We don't go completely still like you; sometimes we make noises, like–" He imitates a snore. "–or we might talk in our sleep."
"No talk." There are a few dull thuds as Rocky ambles closer and taps on his side of the screen, a tapered fist directed towards Grace's torso. "Sound constant. Movement in Grace chest. Normal, question?"
His uncaffeinated brain is slow to catch on. A few horrible scenes from a Ridley Scott movie flash through his mind before Grace blinks in realisation, putting a hand to his ribs and glancing down. "You mean my heartbeat?"
The computer doesn't have a translation for that. Rocky trills something that Grace assumes is echoing the concept.
"It's an organ," he explains. "It's pumping my blood. You have something like that, right? I know you have blood."
A little agitated dance. "Rocky has five pumps. Grace has five limbs and only one pump, question?"
"My head's not a limb, but, yes. One pump. You're right, not very many is it? Maybe we could use a backup. But humans have just one heart."
Rocky trills again in repetition. Grace reaches for the laptop to type «heart».
"Heart not rest in sleep, question?"
Well, that's intriguing. "No, I need it going all the time. As long as I'm alive, it needs to be pumping, but that means as long as it's pumping, I'm alive, so." He shrugs.
"Heart pumps faster in sleep."
No 'question'. Grace regards him with a frown and Rocky regards him in turn. The Eridian can see through surfaces. Probably watching Grace's heart beat and trying to draw conclusions from it right now. "No, that's…that's not right. It should pump slower, unless I really was having bad dreams."
A hum. Another. "Need word."
Dream. Of course there's no analogue for that. "My brain lets me experience things when I sleep," Grace tries to explain. "Not real things, but maybe memories, or things it makes up and I feel like it's really happening. And sometimes when it's a bad thing my heart might beat faster because my body is trying to prepare me to run away."
"But Grace can't run away. Grace sleep."
Well, that objection is entirely logical. Grace sighs. "I know. Human bodies don't always make sense. I guess they get confused sometimes."
"Rocky confused. Where does heart get energy to never stop?"
A question that's not a question. Unless Grace is mistaken, that was rhetorical. "Hey, I'm a biologist and I'm not even sure I can explain it. Human bodies might be confusing sometimes, but I think they're pretty awesome too."
Rocky shifts his weight on four of his legs, carapace slanting almost like a head-tilt, while his fifth limb remains resting against the xenonite. He begins to tap lightly, and for a moment Grace thinks he's gesturing at him until he realises the tapping has rhythm.
Steady. Two quick taps followed by a pause. Repeat.
Oh.
Grace shifts a little closer, reaching out to rest a hand the other side of Rocky's claw and mirrors the rhythm of his own heart with a fingertip. Tap-tap…tap-tap…
"Sound good," Rocky says after a short while, "Sound life. Even when Grace sleep. Rocky listen so Rocky knows Grace not die."
Like you couldn't do for your friends.
Finding a lump has suddenly formed in his throat, Grace leans his forehead against the glass. "Thanks, buddy," he whispers, and knows from the next slightly quicker tap it wasn't too quiet to hear.