Chapter Text
If I have to choke down one more mouthful of this bland, gray sludge, I’m going to barf. I stare down at the cup, swirling it around like the movement is somehow going to make the hydrated coma slurry more appetizing.
Rocky and I are well into the trip to Erid at this point. Seven months down, only forty-three to go. Seven months into the trip and seven months since I’ve gotten to eat anything solid. The rations of real, chewable, delicious food ran out just a few days after Rocky and I reunited. Now all I have to eat is unflavored sludge and the lack of fiber is wreaking havoc on my digestive system.
Why didn't I ration my real meals when we were in Tau Ceti? I knew I had years of space travel ahead of me with only coma slurry available once the burritos ran out and I still ate them for every meal. I didn't even save the smallest bit of real food for a special occasion. At the time having to eat coma slurry seemed like future Grace's problem — an issue so far in the future, it wasn't even worth thinking about. Now that I am future Grace, I can safely say that past Grace was a shortsighted, impulsive moron who stole all my food and all my coffee and all my happiness.
At first eating the unflavored coma slurry wasn't so bad. It was actually pretty nice how quick and easy it was to prepare. Just put powder in a cup, add water, quick stir, and ta-da! Instant bachelor chow! Sure it was bland, not exactly fine dining, but I could prepare it and drink it in two minutes flat. Pretty appealing since I always seemed to be in the middle of something when it was time to eat. Initially it seemed like a miracle food. I would have given anything for a meal this quick and easy back when I was in college cramming for finals.
My love of the convenience was quickly outweighed by the horrible sameness of the food. Every meal was the same unappetizing liquid with no possible escape. The only other edible thing on the ship was the taumoeba and I wasn't that desperate yet. Only a few weeks in I began searching for a solution, rummaging through the lab supplies I had moved and catalogued before we switched to thrust configuration for the trip. Sure enough, I had everything I needed to easily synthesize various esters to use for artificial flavoring. It took some research and a bit of trial and error to get it right. At this point I was over a decade out from my last ester lab practical, but soon enough — success!
With those in hand I was able to customize my own delightful fruit punch slurry through combinations of pear, citrus, raspberry, pineapple, and banana. I watched the supply of esters slowly dwindle down and thought about how it might be good to save some for later, but the thought of eating the bland, tasteless liquid again was unbearable. After only a few blissful months my variety of fruit flavors was totally depleted and I was right back where I started — tormented by the flavorless slime. Now it's been over three months since I've tasted anything other than the mild sweetness of the coma slurry.
I glance over at Rocky and try not to feel jealous. He still has so much food left — enough rations for him and me to eat all the way to Erid with plenty to spare. It’s all meat too, which sounds amazing. I'm sure if he held it long enough to cook the meat, it would taste just like a steak. I keep having to remind myself that it’s full of heavy metals, somehow an even worse food option than my bland goop.
I set my cup down on the desk and walk over to where Rocky is crouched on the other side of the xenonite wall. “What are you working on over there?”
I’m desperately hoping for a distraction from my “meal”. Rocky is weaving some sort of complex angular xenonite object while reading something on the laptop that I gifted him.
“Rocky watching Grace eat even though is disgust. Why did you not finish food, question?”
Busted. He knows all my tricks by now. A months ago I tried to go down to one meal per day so I wouldn't have to deal with the ordeal of eating so frequently. Rocky was…unhappy when he realized what I was doing. After that we put together a regimented eating schedule I need to follow to meet my daily calorie requirements and stave off malnutrition. Rocky is always so strict about it. I just want to delay the meal for a few more minutes.
“I’m just not very hungry. It’s not exactly the most appealing meal. But you’ve already heard me whine about it enough.”
“Yes, Yes. Always complain! You say food boring. Say this every meal. Grace need minimum calories each day. Get nutritional deficiencies if not eat.”
“I know, I know! It’s hard to eat it even when I know that.”
“Grace finish food. Then I tell about projects.”
Rocky pauses, waiting for me to go finish my meal. The thought of even picking up the cup fills me with dread. Three times a day I have to psych myself up to get through a single meal and by the end I’m always mentally exhausted. Unsurprisingly, I usually try to put off eating as long as possible and end up being bullied into it by Rocky. Sometimes when a meal overlaps with his infrequent sleep schedule I skip it.
I know it’s important to eat, but each meal is an uphill battle. Every time I look at a cup of coma slurry all I can think of is how I have forty-three more months of this ahead of me. Over three years still. Three and a half years of eating the exact same bland nothing — no texture, nothing to chew, just the mild sweetness that I've grown to despise. I'd do anything for something savory at this point, but I used up all the sodium chloride from the lab supplies months ago along with the esters.
Rocky doesn’t have a face, but I can tell he’s focused on me, waiting for me to finish my gruel. He lets out a displeased grunting noise and I know I’m pushing the limits of how long he’ll let me procrastinate. I still consider finding a way to somehow sneak out of this, but knowing eating my meal will make Rocky happy helps.
I turn to pick up the cup and look at it sadly. It doesn’t even have a smell. I find it difficult to mentally register it as food at all, but standing here staring at it isn't going to change anything. I knock back the cup and chug it as quickly as I can, trying to keep as much of the goop from touching my tongue as possible. Once I get it all down I struggle not to gag — it barely tastes like anything, but the familiar mild flavor is repulsive! I cover my mouth and do some deep breathing to get my way through a brief fit of nausea. I run over to get a water packet and swish the water around in my mouth, desperate to wash away the remnants of my meal. It takes a few mouthfuls of water before the horrible sweetness is faded enough for me to relax.
“Okay,” I say. “I was a good boy and finished my dinner. Now tell me what you’re working on.”
“Good, good, good.”
It’s stupid, but hearing Rocky praise me for eating my dinner makes me happy. Smiling, I sit down on the floor with my back up against the xenonite wall and listen to Rocky talk about his work.
“Rocky work on temperature regulation system plan for Grace Erid environment. You need air so cold! I already create air-conditioning system for Rocky computer. Now make model for large version.”
I try to focus on what Rocky is saying, but I’m not feeling so hot after that meal. My stomach feels strangely bloated and empty at the same time. And I’m just so tired.
I thunk my head back against the wall and focus on the faint warmth on my back and the quiet shuffling of Rocky working. It’s easy to get lost in the comforting, familiar sounds of his voice. I tune back into what Rocky is talking about now and then. He’s describing some pretty advanced engineering concepts that go way over my head. I’m too tired to ask the clarifying questions I normally would, but he chatters on regardless. Rocky can talk about his work forever if I let him. He always needs to be figuring out some problem and tinkering with some new prototype or model.
There’s only so many things I can scrounge up to do while we kill time on the way to Erid. With the ship in thrust configuration and accelerating, access to the lab is extremely limited. Even if I could somehow scale the wall to reach the equipment, it's all bolted sideways onto the wall — only meant to be used in the centrifugal gravity. Instead I'm left sitting here staring up at the microscope I desperately wish I could use. I've only just started learning about the taumoeba and other organisms from Adrian. Sure, I've learned a lot, but I’ve already written up all my paper ideas from the adventure in Tau Ceti, not that any humans will get to read them anytime soon. There's dozens and dozens of potential experiments and ideas swirling in my head with nowhere to go until I get back lab access in the coast phase months from now. The whole thing seems like a monkey's paw situation. I'm surrounded by more extraterrestrial life than I could have ever imagined with no way to perform lab experiments and no way to rub my incredible luck in anyone's face.
With my scientific career on hold there's not much left to do. I have to feed the taumoeba farms every few days or so and there's always some chore that needs doing — tidying, laundry, ship maintenance — but most days I'm left at loose ends. These days I spend a lot of my time fooling around playing Civilization and Kerbal Space Program. The one thing I can thank Stratt for. At least she gave me video games.
Unlike me, Rocky is always busy. He has a very long list of engineering problems to solve for the Grace dome and devices he wants to make based on human technology. Every time I look at him he's working on a new complex gadget. At this rate, by the time we arrive on Erid he’s going to have single-handedly established the field of Eridian computer engineering. I'm sure they'll give him a Nobel in every category as soon as he steps off the ship — or whatever the Eridian equivalent is.
“Grace okay, question?”
I open my eyes and blink rapidly to try to shake off the lethargy. My brain feels a little fuzzy.
“Yeah, I’m fine, bud. Just relaxing.”
“Grace is actually okay, question? You promise not to lie to me.”
Ouch. I deserved that — my first reaction was to dismiss his concern. I’m not feeling great now that I think about it.
“Sorry about that. I guess I was sort of lying to myself too. I’m not feeling great today… actually, it’s been a few weeks of not feeling great. Just feel sort of tired and gross, but I think it might be getting worse.”
Rocky drops the model he was tinkering with and frantically skitters over to the wall near me.
“Grace sick, question?! Why not tell me sooner, question?”
“I don’t think I have an illness or malnutrition, Rocky. We’ve been pretty careful about planning my eating schedule to make sure I get enough calories and vitamins. I think I’m just feeling sort of mentally…off. Sick.”
“What can cause human brain sickness, question?”
“You’ve heard me complain about the food plenty. That’s sort of the root of it, I think. Humans need novelty and variety for our brains to stay healthy. It’s especially important for food. I know you can eat the same thing every day for decades no problem, but it’s a bit harder for me.”
“Why does same food every day give Grace brain sickness, question? Food has all required nutrients.”
“It’s not my actual brain that’s sick. It’s my mind.”
Rocky lets out some confused warbling and tilts his carapace back and forth. I try to think of something analogous for Eridians to help explain.
“You can think of it like how Eridians need social interaction stay healthy. You told me you felt a lot better once you met me and got to move in. That was mainly important for your mind even though it had some physiological consequences too.”
“Yes. Understand. Why did you not warn me about food variety need earlier, question?”
"I didn't think it would be so bad. Humans enjoy food variety, but how much variation is required differs from person to person. When I was back on Earth I ate the same thing a lot and it never bothered me. In Tau Ceti I didn't mind eating the same food rations every day so I hoped eating the coma slurry would be similar. But it's not. It's horrible."
Rocky pauses for a moment and twitches his fingers the way he does when he’s working through a problem. “Grace need food variety. You alternate eating coma slurry and taumoeba.”
“That’s not enough variety. It’s still basically the same. Neither of them have any flavor or texture to them. They're both just bland sludge. I need solid food with strong flavors — without that eating makes me upset, makes me feel physically sick. As soon as the coma slurry touches my tongue I start getting nauseous. My body wants to expel the food."
Rocky looks vaguely disgusted by my description. I know he would rather be talking about literally anything else. Usually when our conversations lead to detailed discussions of eating, he gets evasive and finds an excuse to leave the room. I'm impressed he seems to be making an exception today.
“I not understand why taste important. Some Eridian food taste better, healthier. No food taste make Rocky feel bad. Humans strange.”
“I guess it would be different for Eridians. From what you've told me those meat rations you eat are incredibly nutrient dense. Humans aren't carnivores like Eridians. We need to eat a big variety of plants and animals to get all the nutrients we need to be healthy, so our brains evolved to enjoy food variation as a result."
“Coma slurry tastes unhealthy, question?”
“Basically. It's nothing like real food. There's barely any flavor at all and the liquid consistency is unpleasant. Humans like getting to chew solid food with our teeth.”
I open my mouth and point inside, biting down a few times to demonstrate. Rocky flinches away and for a moment I worry that the food discussion has become a bit too graphic for him, but he bounces back almost immediately.
“Why did humans make bad food experience, question?”
“We weren’t supposed to actually eat it. On our way to Tau Ceti we were all unconscious and the slurry was pumped directly into our stomachs. It is healthy. It has all the nutrients that I need, but they didn’t bother to make it pleasant to eat.”
“Humans make bad food. Eridian scientists will make good, good, good human food. Many varieties. Rocky supervise. Make sure that food experience is healthy for Grace mind. Food will have best taste and texture!”
I can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. It’s hard not to worry about potential starvation. The Eridian scientists will have to figure out how to reproduce things like vitamin C and folic acid that don’t exist anywhere on their planet before they can even think about making any of it taste good. It all seems impossible to accomplish, but if Rocky’s supervising I’m sure they’ll get the job done. Anything's possible when he's around.
“I’m looking forward to it. I’m sure the Eridian food will be amazing. Way better than the sludge I have to eat right now.”
“Good, good, good.”
Rocky fidgets restlessly. He picks back up the half-completed xenonite model with one of the arms on his far side and restarts his tinkering. He lets out a hesitant warble. "Grace certain you not able to eat my food, question?"
"Yeah, I'm sure, bud. I'm really, really sure. It has heavy metals and there's no way to get those out. Eating it would kill me."
"Oh, my food taste bad also. Unhealthy for humans."
"Well, actually all the heavy metals in it are tasteless to humans. It would taste amazing."
"What! Why does food taste good if unhealthy, question? Not make sense."
"The human sense of taste was shaped by evolution, but it's an imperfect process. We only needed to be able to to detect nutrients and dangerous foods just well enough to survive and reproduce. There are unfortunately many dangerous foods that taste delicious and many safe foods that taste terrible."
"Humans strange."
"Heavy metals aren't usually present in plants or animals on Earth. That's probably why we didn't evolve to taste them."
“Food metals are dangerous. Grace cannot eat my food. Maybe Rocky can help other way. How can I make same food easier for Grace to eat, question? Less bad for your mind.”
My immediate thought is there’s nothing. No way to make it easier. How could anything make it more pleasant to choke down that awful stuff? But then I realize that talking with Rocky about this has me feeling a million times better than I did a few minutes ago. Maybe I could ask him to talk to me while I eat? A little bit of distraction and verbal comfort.
That’s probably a step too far. Rocky’s being incredibly flexible right now even talking about food and eating so much. Having to watch me eat pushes his limits and he never talks to me while I do the actual swallowing. I think it makes it easier for him to pretend he can’t see me while I do it.
“Grace look like you have idea! Tell idea to Rocky!”
“Umm, I did think of one thing.”
“Yes, yes!”
“It might be nice to have you talk to me while I eat. Talk about something that isn’t the coma slurry to help distract me from the gross food. No pressure, of course! I know that might be uncom—”
Rocky loudly interrupts, wiggling excitedly. “Yes! I do this! I help you eat!”
It’s such a simple thing, but hearing Rocky agree to help changes everything. I feel like an enormous weight just lifted off my shoulders. I shouldn’t be surprised. Rocky has a way of improving any situation. He’s incredible.
“Thanks so much, Rocky. You don’t know how much that means to me. I think that will help.”
“Good, good. Rocky want to help. I help other ways also. Can research human food composition on computer. Create ideas to improve coma slurry experience.”
He looks so hopeful. I feel bad having to take the wind out of his sails. “There are some things humans can do to artificially change food’s flavor. Chemical compounds that are present in real food can be added to something like the coma slurry to improve it. We actually had some of those chemicals on the ship, but I already used all of them up. We don't have anything else left that could change the flavor.”
"What happen to food flavor chemicals, question?"
"I sort of… ate them all. The food was so boring, Rocky. I had to have an escape from it!"
"Why did you use chemicals so quickly, question?!"
"They didn't exactly stock us with a large supply! There was only enough to flavor the coma slurry for a couple months!"
"Stupid! Grace should save chemical samples for scientists!"
He has a point there. Saving samples of all the artificial flavoring options would have made things easier for the Eridian scientists to eventually manufacture palatable food. Why did past Grace make such a stupid decision? I can never understand that guy.
"I mean, I have the chemical formulas for everything I used up. The scientists should be able to work off of that, right?"
Rocky only grunts in response, clearly frustrated by the shortsighted decision-making. I don't have much I can say in my defense. I'd like to say I'll plan things out better in the future, but I promised I wouldn't lie to him.
“If food not fixable then Rocky research other human needs! We only discuss human physical needs for Eridian scientists to fix. Missed mental need for good food experience. Need to create detailed list.”
It’s obvious that he’s trying to find a new problem he can solve to make him feel better about my current food situation. It’s always a bit hard on him when there’s an issue he can’t fix. He loves getting to solve problems for me. He’s such a thoughtful guy.
“Grace is bad at telling me human needs. Should know human needs because Grace is human. But forget to tell Rocky so many! You bad at being human.”
Okay, I take it back. Rocky’s a jerk.