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Eva Stratt’s name comes up on the seven hundred and eighteenth day of their journey to Erid, which, Grace thinks, is quite an impressive amount of time that he’s gone without bringing her up. Mostly because he doesn’t like thinking about her. Mostly because all he can think about when he does think about her is their last conversation, and even when he tries to remember the good stuff, it’s all tainted black.
Sometime within the first year, Rocky had discovered how it was, exactly, that Grace found himself aboard the Hail Mary, which included how he hadn’t exactly volunteered to be strapped onto a spaceship, forced into a coma (with a special case of reverse-order just for him), and catapulted 11.9 light years from Earth.
(“I was voluntold,” Grace had explained. “Because, you know, usually you volunteer, but instead it’s told because somebody forces you to do it.” He was explaining it too much and Rocky was probably going to tell Grace that he wasn’t not stupid and he got it the first time. “My students used to love complaining about their friends doing that to them. You know what’s real funny? I would always make the person who voluntold their friend to do it instead. Ha ha. Imagine that.” He hadn’t told Rocky that he was imagining Stratt on the Hail Mary instead of him.
Rocky was very, very silent for a couple of long seconds. It was kind of scary. Rocky was hardly ever silent. For a frightful moment, Grace wondered if it was because Rocky was disappointed in him. He’d called Grace brave, after all, for putting his life on the line to save Earth. But Grace hadn’t chosen to do any of that. Had he been awake, he would’ve been dragged onto the Hail Mary kicking and screaming. Instead, he did the kicking and screaming beforehand. In that moment, he was a lot of things, but brave was not one of them. He’d looked in the face of billions of lives, and valued his own above them all.
And then Rocky had stomped his claws on the ground. His voice trilled out angrier than Grace had ever heard. “Earth bad,” Rocky had said emphatically, his musical notes almost a hiss. “Bad bad bad. Rocky hate Earth.”
It had taken a lot of explanation and convincing that not everybody on Earth was responsible for the decision (Grace carefully abstained from mentioning the one person who was), that it was for the greater good and it had worked out in the end, and that there were plenty of people who would’ve been opposed to it. Yao, for example.
Still, Rocky had refused to go into the Don’t Go Crazy room because Earth bad bad bad and Rocky want nothing with Earth for five weeks. Even after Rocky reluctantly returned to watch Grace fish, Grace was a little concerned he’d done some irreparable damage to Earth’s intergalactic PR.)
This time, the whole ordeal starts with a packet of powdered hot chocolate. Grace had woken up feeling quite good about the day ahead. He and Rocky were scheduled to watch a movie or two. Discuss whatever Earth culture was shown in it, or perhaps whatever misrepresentation of Earth’s culture, depending on the movie. After, they’d complete their daily check-ups around the Hail Mary to ensure everything was functioning, do something stupid in the Don’t Go Crazy room, and then maybe watch a few more movies if time allowed (time always allowed). Deciding that he could do with an early-morning treat, Grace had fetched one of his dwindling packs of hot chocolate powder, which he stored with his personal possessions: clothing, the drawings made by his students, and of course—the hot chocolate. There were no marshmallows or whipped cream, but it was a delight compared to straight black coffee.
A pale yellow sticky note tumbles out as Grace is rifling through for his hot chocolate, presumably attached to one of the drawings he’d set aside in his search.
Absentmindedly, he picks it up to glance at it. It’s folded messily, probably a result of being sandwiched between so many papers. Perhaps one of his students had it on their desk and it stuck when they were making the drawings.
The handwriting peeking through the corner gives him pause.
All of a sudden, the hot chocolate seems to be an inconsequential thing. Grace unfolds the sticky note gingerly, half-convinced his eyes were playing tricks on him, but he’d been correct.
In inexplicably neat writing, it says:
Your kids believe in you, Dr. Grace. I do too.
E.S.
The Hail Mary is suddenly degrees cooler. Grace stares at the sticky note like it’ll evaporate if he does long enough, like a hallucination of some sort. Maybe E.S. stands for Earth Squad, or something, and not Eva Stratt, the likely and quite frankly undeniable option.
He had though he made peace with it, Stratt’s betrayal. Is it even a betrayal? She made the right choice. The only choice. It was send Ryland Grace into space or sentence billions of people to a slow and painful death.
In the grand scheme of things, dying in another solar system after saving humanity from getting wiped out by a catastrophic ice age was a much better death than starvation and war.
But making peace should not feel like this, the way that little sticky note makes Grace feel as though someone just turned his skin inside out and put all of his organs on display. His stomach churns. He’s definitely not having that hot chocolate today, lest he puke it all up.
It’s easier to just not think about Stratt. But now he has to think about Stratt. That darn sticky note gives his stupid human brain no other option.
Swallowing the thick ball of anxiety in his throat, Grace puts the sticky note where he found it. He zips up the satchel, and then heads to the Don’t Go Crazy room because he feels himself going a little crazy.
✩‧₊˚─────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆─────˚₊‧✩
It’s Christmas, and Stratt has given the core team the rare opportunity to take a single day off to visit their family and loved ones. Which is quite a feat, because it meant people are flying all over the world in multiple private jets. Or something. Grace isn’t sure how the logistics worked. Mainly because he isn’t going anywhere. Because there’s work to do. And because he has nobody to visit. But mostly because of the work.
“You know you can take a day off too, Dr. Grace,” Stratt had said.
“Are you going to?” Grace had asked.
“No,” Stratt said.
“Let’s do a gift exchange, then,” he proposed. That was a week ago.
Now, Grace heads to the mess hall holding the small model of their solar system he had built. He hadn’t been an arts-and-crafts guy in college, but being a teacher and designing his classroom from near-scratch had taught him to become more hands on. He’s no Michelangelo, but he’s decent enough. He’s proud of his model. He hopes Stratt likes it, because he sacrificed a decent chunk of sleep for it.
Stratt is already at the mess hall when Grace arrives. There are three steaming cups of coffee, dark brown enough to be black, in front of her. Two, actually, Grace realizes when he gets closer. One is already at its dregs.
“Dr. Grace,” she greets when he sits down in front of her.
“Merry Christmas, Stratt,” Grace echoes, sliding over to her the model. “Here’s to the solar system you’re saving.” He gestures to her coffee. “Before you give me my present, let me get my fix first.”
The mess hall has quite an impressive assortment. He comes back with hot chocolate and whipped cream and marshmallows. A perfect fix. “Okay, ready.”
Stratt looks at his drink. She seems to want to make a comment about it, but ultimately, does not. Instead, she slides a small black bundle across the table. “Merry Christmas, Dr. Grace.”
Grace unfolds the bundle. It’s a shirt. NASA’s logo is in the middle, with a little rocket circling it. In big bold letters it reads: IT’S NOT ROCKET SCIENCE. OH WAIT, IT IS.
“I saw Dubois wearing it the other day,” Stratt says, “and I thought it would be the type of unprofessional attire that you would enjoy.”
Grace raises his brows. “Are you saying you stole this off Dubois?”
“No. I had it ordered. Why would I steal it off Dubois, Dr. Grace?”
Grace laughs. It’s a good shirt. It fits in just perfectly with the rest of his science pun shirts. He can’t wait to wear this one for Funky Fridays when he’s back in the classroom. He can already hear his students groaning in exasperation when he shows them.
“Thanks, Stratt,” he says. “I’ll make sure to iron it every time I wear it.”
✩‧₊˚─────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆─────˚₊‧✩
Somebody had packed all of Grace’s science pun shirts for him, but the rocket science shirt is not there. Now Grace has a sinking feeling who packed his clothes. Unfortunately, dealing with that realization is more emotionally taxing than rocket science.
The Don’t Go Crazy room is flashing a near-blinding assortment of lights and colours from the projection of the giant Christmas tree when Rocky comes rolling inside in his xenonite ball.
He stops right next to Grace. Grace offers Rocky a smile, very glad that Rocky can’t see how it wavers. “Hey, buddy.”
There is a pause. “Grace sad, question?” Rocky asks, tapping his legs against the ground.
Darn it.
“Grace not sad,” Grace lies, unconvincingly. “Grace is fine.”
Rocky makes a noise that sounds like seriously? “Grace sad, statement,” he says. “Why is Grace sad, question?”
Grace considers a dozen different excuses he can give. I’m almost out of hot chocolate. True, but too shallow. I miss Earth. Another can of worms he’d rather not open. I just found a sticky note from the person I once considered my closest friend, who also was the one who conveniently sent me to space while I begged her not to, and now I’m upset about it again. Well—that one was just the truth.
“Grace tell Rocky,” Rocky insists when Grace spends too long contemplating which fib to settle with. “Grace sad. Rocky fix.”
Grace sighs. Rocky’s right. They’ve had their fair share of hard conversations. Rocky had told him about those gruelling years he’d spent alone with nothing but the fossilized bodies of his dead crewmates. Heck, Grace has told Rocky about how he got here, so what’s the harm in telling Rocky about who was responsible for the how?
“I found a sticky-note,” he says at last.
“Little paper to write random thoughts on, question?”
“Yes,” Grace affirms. “It’s—um, you know those drawings my students made me? It was attached to the back of it. I didn’t see it until today. The person who wrote it, her name is Stratt. Eva Stratt. She was in charge of the Project Hail Mary.”
“What is written on note, question?”
“She wrote: ‘Your kids believe in you, Dr. Grace. I do too.’”
“Understand,” Rocky says slowly. “Grace sad because Grace miss Earth and Grace students.”
That much was true, but…
“Not exactly,” Grace mumbles. “She—Stratt—was the one in charge of the project. So she’s also the one who made the executive decision to send me into space.”
This time Rocky’s silence is longer. In the face of it, Grace suddenly feels the overwhelming urge to throw in a justification or two. He doesn’t really know why; it wasn’t as if he wanted to listen to any of Stratt’s justifications when she forced him on this mission. In fact, a couple billion lives hadn’t been enough justification for him. “There were two other scientists that were supposed to go before me,” he tells Rocky. “But before the launch, both of them died in an accident involving the Astrophage, and I was the most qualified person for the job. I was the only qualified person at the time. It would take months to train another scientist, and if we waited months, then—”
“No.” Rocky’s trill is low this time, indicative of anger. “Reason does not matter. Is wrong. What ♫♫♩♪ did to Grace is wrong.” The words that Grace doesn’t recognize must be Stratt’s name in Eridian. Grace almost asks about the name Rocky had given her, but then figures he probably doesn’t want to know.
“It was me or billions of lives, Rocky,” Grace says. “I just—I mean, I fought her. I yelled at her that she was killing me and I even told her I’d sabotage the whole project while I was up there out of spite. But now, thinking about it, I have to admit that she was right. She made the right decision, and that’s probably why they chose her to lead the whole project in the first place, because you need someone who can make the right decision, even if it’s hard. Even if it means sending your friend up into space with no hope of returning, I guess.” He tries to keep the bitterness out of the last sentence, but his voice catches around the word friend and from the way Rocky’s carapace shifts, Grace knows that Rocky caught the stumble.
“Stratt was Grace friend?” Rocky asks. He stomps his claws down. Clack, clack, clack against the xenonite. “No. Friends not ♬♬♬ friends. Stratt not Grace friend. Stratt hurt Grace and force Grace to go to space when you did not want to go to space. Bad bad bad.”
“What does that word mean?”
“Break trust,” Rocky says. “♬♬♬.”
“Betray,” Grace says, a lump in his throat.
“Betray,” Rocky agrees. His voice is even lower pitched, now. “Rocky hate Stratt. Hate hate hate.”
“She had no choice either,” Grace tries. “I’ve accepted it.” Has he? “She did everything right, at the end of the day.”
“Grace still sad,” Rocky says. “Grace still not tell Rocky everything. Tell Rocky now.”
Grace takes out the sticky note from his pocket and stares at it. Stratt’s writing really is impeccable, he thinks. How like her.
“I think I’m upset because she was my friend,” he says at last. “The closest friend I ever had. I guess, um, I didn’t have a lot of friends, and the ones I had were just… the sort you meet with once every few months. But then Stratt turned up in my life and got me involved in Project Hail Mary and she was the first person who believed in me in a long long time, you know? And—maybe it was just me. Maybe I wanted a friend so bad so I made her that, and maybe—maybe I wasn’t as important to her like she was to me.” His voice cracks. He’s close to tears. He hopes Rocky will call him a leaky space blob because at least that will make him laugh. “We even celebrated Christmas together, once. That was the first time I celebrated Christmas with somebody in years. At the end of the day, it was between me and Earth and she chose Earth. She should’ve chosen Earth. And I know it’s crazy and selfish but I wish that she could’ve chosen me instead.”
Rocky makes a low, distressed noise. He does not call Grace a leaky space blob even though the waterworks have now started in earnest. The lack of the friendly insult makes the tears flow harder. “Understand,” Rocky says quietly. “Stratt betraying Grace hurt more because you saw Stratt as good close friend.”
“She made the decision I wasn’t brave enough to make,” Grace says between sniffles.
“No.” Rocky stomps again empathetically. “No no no. Grace is brave. Grace is brave when Rocky Grace gather taumoeba from Adrian. Grace is brave when finding solution for taumoeba.” Rocky taps against the xenonite, right next to Grace. “Grace save billions of people on Earth. And Grace also turn back to save Rocky. Made decision to be brave just for one Rocky.”
“It wasn’t a hard decision, buddy,” Grace says. “I know you would’ve done the same for me.”
“Grace deserve friend that Grace can trust and make Grace happy,” Rocky says. “Rocky try hardest to be that friend. Rocky will choose Grace. Every time.”
He bumps his side against the xenonite barrier in an action that Grace has grown very familiar with. He wraps his arms around the side of the ball to return the hug. “Oh, Rocky,” he says. The tears are getting worse. “You already are.”
Rocky trills a low, soothing musical tone. He doesn’t complain about Grace’s eyes leaking onto his xenonite barrier. Instead, they stay there until Grace’s arms are sore and his tears finally dry out. He hiccups once every few seconds. It’s truly a testament to how considerate Rocky is being given that he doesn’t comment on how the hiccups are gross disgusting gross gross gross.
“You know,” Grace says when the hiccups have finally ceased. “I don’t know if I can forgive Stratt yet. Or ever. But there were good things that came out of it. We were able to find a solution to the Astrophage. And I got to meet you.”
“Rocky feel the same as Grace,” Rocky replies. He isn’t pressing his side against the barrier anymore, but he doesn’t go far either. “Even if you are leaky space blob.”
The noise that comes out of Grace is some disgusting hybrid between a snort and a sob. “Yes, and you’re a scary space monster.”
They sit in companionable silence for a little while longer. All that crying was cathartic, Grace realizes, as was talking about it to Rocky. He hadn’t been lying when he said he wasn’t sure if he could ever forgive Stratt, although more than anything, he knows that she made the right decision. And it’s that decision that has him sitting here right now, with his best friend from 16 light years away.
“Rocky still have question,” Rocky says some time later.
“Yeah?”
“Grace say word that Rocky don’t know. You say: a celebration you did with Stratt. What is meaning, question?”
“Oh. Christmas.” It’s funny—they’ve talked about Halloween once, when Grace had an existential crisis after running out of his last chocolate bar, yet somehow, he neglected to explain Christmas. Come to speak of it, they haven’t dipped into any holiday movies either. “It’s another holiday that a lot of humans celebrate. There’s a whole bunch of history around it based on one of our religions. Christmas celebrates the birth of their saviour.” He pauses. “Actually, that’s what the Hail Mary was named after. Mary is the mother of Jesus. Who was born on Christmas.”
Rocky gives a confused warble. “Slightly understand. What humans do on ♫♫♩♪♬♬♩♬?” His carapace shudders a little. “Eat, question?”
“That’s a long name you’ve given Christmas,” Grace laughs. “Well, yeah, we kind of eat for every holiday, but we also get a big tree and decorate it.”
“Tree!” Rocky exclaims in excitement.
“Yeah, and we put lights all over it and a star on top. It’s pretty fun. Anyway, Christmas and the winter holidays are a big thing where I’m from and because as a teacher, it’s the second longest holiday you get, so even if you don’t celebrate it, it’s nice. Other professions don’t usually get as much time off, but…” He thinks back to Christmas. The long break from work was nice for a while, but there were multiple Christmases in a row that Grace had nobody to spend it with. He even found himself looking forward to getting back to the classroom knowing full well his students didn’t feel the same. “It’s a holiday you spend with friends and family. So. Yeah. It felt nice to spend a Christmas with Stratt, and it made it feel real, you know. Like we were close friends.”
“Understand. Christmas is celebration that is meant to be spent with loved ones, confirm?”
“Confirmed,” Grace says, because yeah, that’s basically the gist of it.
“With big tree and lots of lights, also confirm?”
“Yup.”
“Amaze!” Rocky jumps excitedly in his xenonite ball. “We have room with big lights and big tree. We do Christmas now. Statement.”
Surprised, Grace raises his eyebrows. “Right now?”
“Yes. Grace not hearing well, question? We do Christmas today.”
“There’s also another part,” Grace says. He decides not to mention that on Earth, it’s currently sometime in July, a good five months off from Christmas. “A gift exchange, basically. You get your friends gifts and your friends give you gifts. You wrap them up and put them under the tree, then on Christmas day, you get to unwrap it and see what the gift is.”
“Friends give gifts to friends,” Rocky says. “Why Grace not tell Rocky the most important part?”
“It’s a complex holiday to explain!”
“Not complex. Easy. Fun.” Rocky sways side to side. He’s getting more excited. “Okay, we do Christmas tomorrow. Rocky prepare gift for Grace.”
“Christmas tomorrow,” Grace agrees. “Maybe we can watch a Christmas movie later to prepare you for what it’s like.”
“No time. Rocky must make Grace gift.”
“Wow, okay.” Grace wracks his mind for what he has. “Fine, then, I’ll make you a gift too, and we can exchange them tomorrow on Christmas and I’ll put up the Christmas tree again in the Don’t Go Crazy room.”
“Is a plan!” Rocky exclaims. “Excite excite excite! Grace Rocky do Christmas tomorrow. Rocky make gift now.” He begins to roll away in his xenonite ball before he pauses and turns back to Grace. “Grace feel better, question? Need Rocky to stay longer?”
Grace laughs. His spirits are already much higher, especially now that he’s buzzing with anticipation of what Rocky is going to make as his gift. “Nah, I’m okay, buddy,” he says. “You cheered me up plenty. I gotta make your gift too. Oh, and we can’t show each other until it’s Christmas.”
Rocky makes a noise that sounds suspiciously similar to duh. “Grace already said. Gifts are wrapped. Gifts are secret. Rocky understood first time Grace said it. Grace always stupid after leaking.”
“Geez, alright.” Grace laughs again. He pauses. “Thanks, Rocky. For—you know.”
“Rocky knows,” Rocky trills softly. He departs shortly after, the clack clack clack of his xenonite ball scraping against the floor.
Grace sits by himself in the Don’t Go Crazy room for a little while longer, feeling significantly less crazy. The Christmas tree lights flash in blinding patterns all over him.
He looks down at the sticky note he’s still clutching between his fingers. He wishes Stratt had sent the shirt up with him. Did she think he’d hate it after remembering her and what she did to him?
He won’t be spending Christmas with her ever again. Black coffee and hot chocolate. Here’s to the solar system you’re saving. It’s funny how they’ve saved more solar systems than Christmases spent together.
Grace couldn’t find it in himself to be brave for Stratt, for the rest of the world, just like Stratt couldn’t find it in herself to choose him over the rest of the world. But Rocky is here now, somewhere in the Hail Mary making Grace his Christmas gift in July. And Grace was able to be brave for Rocky, just as Rocky has proven time and time again that he’d choose Grace.
He still can’t forgive Stratt for what she did, but Grace thinks that he doesn’t hate her either.
Tucking the sticky note into his pocket, he pushes himself to his feet. An idea is forming in his head about what he’ll make Rocky. There’s some spare clothing, after all, and Grace had once been assigned the supervisor of the knitting club at Grover Cleveland Middle School. He’d picked up a thing or two.
It’s time to redesign Stratt’s rocket science shirt for Rocky. Rocky will have a field day with that. July or December, Grace will have somebody to celebrate the rest of his Christmases with.