Chapter Text
Ahhhh. This must be the place. I carefully fold the piece of paper in my hands and slip it into a pocket of my blazer. Moving forward, I push the door open.
“Ryland Grace?”
A blond haired, spectacled man rests his feet on a teacher’s desk. Tapping a pen against some papers, he stares up at a model of the solar system. A red line of tape stretches from the Sun to Venus. Well. Glad to see that he is already acquainted with the issue. He looks startled as I say his name and hurriedly pulls his feet off the desk.
“Uh, yeah,” he says with uncertainty. “Can I help you with something?” He pulls his glasses down and looks at me over the top of them. I make my way through the maze of desks to approach Dr. Grace.
“My name is Eva Stratt. I’m with the Petrova Taskforce,” I say. “And I think you can help.”
“Me?” Dr. Grace looks surprised. “And ‘Petrova Taskforce’?” I ignore the questions. He will get answers soon enough.
Pulling a thick binder out of my briefcase, I show it to Dr. Grace. The words “An Analysis of Water-Based Assumptions and Recalibration of Expectations for Evolutionary Models.” are written on the top page.
After realizing that the Petrova line could potentially be made of alien life forms, we began to search for scientists that could help us study the dots. Because of the heat of the sun, water can't possibly exist. This means the life form is probably not made of water. This led to contacting various people in the field of speculative extraterrestrial biology from Oxford professors to Tokyo University researchers. They all pointed me to this man and this paper. In the end, it had taken a few very strongly worded emails about the end of the world as we know it to convince some particularly tenacious scientists that I needed Dr. Grace and not them.
“I’ve been given a certain amount of authority by the UN to solve the Petrova line problem.” Dr. Grace opens his mouth to ask a question but I ignore him again. I have a job to do and don’t need any interruptions. “In searching for a solution this paper caught our eye. ‘An Analysis of Water-Based Assumptions and Recalibration of Expectations for Evolutionary Models.’” I turn back to Dr. Grace. “You wrote this, yes?”
“Oh.” The small sound of unenthusiastic shock seems to slip out of his mouth.
“A bit of a dull title, but very exciting content, I have to say.” Flipping through the pages, I land on the one of particular interest. “Page 31. ‘The Goldilocks Zone is for Idiots: Why Everyone is Wrong About Life’. Interesting thoughts for having a doctorate in molecular biology.”
A grimace forms on Dr. Grace’s face. I put the paper back into my briefcase and continue, “And calling out dozens of prominent scientists by name on top of calling the leading scientist in your field ‘a staggering waste of carbon’ at the UNESCO conference in Denmark? Impressive.”
A little red in the face, Dr. Grace stands up and starts shoving a random assortment of papers, pens, and notebooks into a bag. His voice rises in volume. “Yeah. Well. There is nothing magical about hydrogen and oxygen. Just because they are required for Earth life doesn’t mean a different planet wouldn’t have different conditions that would need to be met!” Dr. Grace takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. “Sorry.”
I caught him off guard. I don’t care. I don't have time for people who are uncertain about their areas of expertise. The world doesn’t have time.
“Do you still stand by what you said?”
Grace sighs. “It doesn’t matter. I published that paper. Got fired. Then I got teaching credentials, a new career and started actually enjoying my life. I’m actually glad no one believed me. I’m better off for it.”
“I believe you.”
Dr. Grace scoffs. He pauses packing his things and turns to look at me with an expression of slight annoyance. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. I appreciate it. However, I do have other things to do today besides speaking about a 7 year old paper.” Raising an eyebrow, Dr. Grace questions, “What do you want with me?”
I can see the model of the solar system out of the corner of my eye, the ominous red tape tying Venus and the Sun together. “You are aware of the ArcLight probe and the Petrova line, I assume,” I reply.
“Yes, of course.”
“Great. I need you to study the dots.”
“Me?! You want me, a teacher at Grover Cleveland Middle, to study some space dots?!”
“Yes.”
“The whole world put you in charge of solving this problem, and you came directly to a junior high school science teacher?”
“Also correct.”
Dr. Grace moves around the desk gathering his bag and jacket. He walks swiftly towards the door of the classroom. “You’re lying, insane, or a combination of the two. Have a good day.”
I pity the guy for just a moment. He is definitely not ready for this, but he’s the only person we got. “This is not optional,” I call after him as he turns his back to me.
“Seems optional to me!” Dr. Grace waves good-bye.
It really isn’t optional. I exit the classroom and begin walking down the hall adorned with lockers. One locker looks about ready to burst, as papers are making their ways through the seams. Another has a little drawing of a butterfly and flower taped to it. Another is hanging just ajar and has pictures of family and friends staring at me. I pause, a rare occurrence. Moments like this remind me why I do what must be done. Even when I know the outcome of my actions.
Shaking off the feeling, I move with purpose back down the hallway. A middle aged man in a white shirt and tie and a coat meets me at the end. “How did it go?” He sounds politely curious. “I saw him walk by. He seemed to be muttering a lot of words under his breath.”
“Yes. Well. We shall see.” I continue to walk briskly past Carl out of the school. “Let’s go.” Dr. Grace will soon be escorted to the lab and I want to be waiting for him when he arrives. Goodness knows we need his brain.
By the time Dr. Grace has made his way into the lab, he looks a little frazzled. The look quickly disappears, though, as his eyes go wide with amazement and excitement when he gets gently shoved into the room. And although I am not a scientist myself, I can’t blame him. Just about every piece of lab equipment we could think of was in this room. When you are in charge of saving the world, you get basically an infinite budget.
Standing in the middle of the room, I gesture to the various shiny machines surrounding us. “Hello, Dr. Grace,” I say. “This is your new lab.”
The door shuts behind Dr. Grace. Rubbing his shoulders, he turns to the closed door and then back to look at me. “So...when you say ‘a certain amount of authority’...”
“I have all of the authority.”
Dr. Grace pauses and then points a finger, almost like an accusation. “You have an accent. Are you even from America?”
“I’m Dutch. I was an administrator at ESA.” When the Petrova line began to look like it would be an actual problem, naturally people wanted to find a solution. With NASA, ESA, JAXA, CNSA, ISRO, and Roscosmos trying to work together, however, there was too much red tape and limits on what could be done between organizations. That’s also not even mentioning all of the people that every single idea had to pass by. By some miracle, the ArcLight probe was launched amid that chaos. Eventually, the UN came to the conclusion that a specific organization would be needed to manage the Petrova line problem. Leeway would be given that would allow the members of said organization to cut through the red tape and jump over any limits and laws.
Once I became aware of the Petrova line problem, I made it my own problem. I studied reports, spoke with experts and inserted myself into creating the solutions as much as I could. Eventually, I was approached to head up the Petrova Taskforce. I was told it was because of my initiative and dedication but I suspect it was also partially because I’m Dutch. No world superpower can claim my allegiance. But even with that slight note, I will do the job and I will do it well. It isn’t the most glamorous of jobs, but the only person I trust enough to make sure that the Earth doesn’t die is myself. And so here I am.
To Dr. Grace I continue, “But that doesn’t matter. Now I’m in charge of the Petrova Taskforce. There is no time for slow, international committees. The sun is dying. We need a solution. It’s my job to find it.”
I pull up a lab stool and sit down. “These ‘dots’ are probably a life-form. The exponential progression of solar dimming is consistent with the exponential population growth of a typical life-form.” My head hurts. I resist the urge to rub my temples.
“You think they’re...eating the sun?”
“They’re eating its energy output at least,” I reply.
“Okay, that’s—well, terrifying.” Dr. Grace takes a moment to collect his thoughts. “But regardless: What the heck do you want from me?”
I nod. It is a fair enough question. “The ArcLight probe is bringing the samples back to Earth. Some of them might still be alive. I want you to examine them and find out what you can.”
“Yeah, you mentioned that earlier,” Dr. Grace says, a hint of confusion in his voice. “But I have to believe there are more qualified people to do this than just me.”
“Scientists all over the world will be looking at them, but I want you to be the first.”
“Why?” Always with the questions.
“It lives on or near the surface of the sun. Does that sound like a water-based life-form to you?” A slight smile graces my lips. Dr. Grace strikes me as the kind of person who loves to explore. Especially an idea that could possibly prove him right. Dr. Grace just stands still, mulling my words over. I continue, “Everyone understands the gravity of the situation. There’s no time for old grudges. But for what it’s worth, you’ll be able to show everyone you were right. You don’t need water for life. Surely that must be something you want.”
“Sure,” he said slowly. “I mean...yeah. But not like this.”
I rise from my stool and begin heading to the door. “It is what it is. Be here on the twenty-third at seven. I’ll have the sample for you.”
“Just one last thing. Are you joshing me with all this?” I can’t see Dr. Grace but I can hear the look of incredulousness on his face. He is an incredibly easy person to read.
“Get accommodated with your new lab, Dr. Grace. I have other things to deal with.”
I walk out the door, my mind already on the hundred and one items on my list that need to get done. Dr. Grace is barely a whisper in my mind.