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Considering that Simon comes from a world where space travel has been a thing for centuries, he knows his way around a spaceship pretty well.
Since they found him, he's made it his mission to maintain the ship until they make it to Erid. He's been working diligently since his health stabilised. Grace and Rocky tried to tell him to rest more and that it wasn't necessary. But he said working is the only thing preventing him from thinking about what happened to him and keeping him sane. They couldn't really keep arguing with him after that.
He tends to lose track of time while he works, too absorbed in it. It’s like everything around him disappears for a moment. Grace completely understands; he's exactly the same. Though Simon is still recovering, he checks on him often and tries to encourage him to take breaks.
He's been running diagnostics and recalibrating things. Grace often hears him grumble about how ancient this ship is and how unnecessarily complicated everything is. Grace once asked him where he learned to fix spaceships and he paused for a moment before answering. As if he were considering whether to tell him or not.
"There weren't enough people left to have a specialist taking care of or fixing ships in every space station and we couldn't afford to lose one. So, if something broke down, you had to know how to fix it. Especially if you happened to be travelling alone. Otherwise, you're dead. Couldn't afford to waste anything on a rescue mission. Not to just save some useless dumb bastard, they said. It would cost more than a spaceship. So, I read what I could about it, which isn't a lot, watched how the best did it and studied how they were built. That's it."
Grace had been floored. Simon basically explained being a self-taught aerospace engineer, like it was nothing to write home about.
"I know how to fix machines and ships are one of them. That's it. It's not like I'm a genius or something. I just did things that felt right, hoped it wasn't going to blow up and when it didn't, assumed I did it right."
Grace blanched at that and Rocky paused the tinkering he had been doing.
"Calm down," Simon said with an eye roll, "This was when I was still learning. This isn't what I'm doing right now. I know what I'm doing. I have the manual and your ship is outdated, but in perfect condition. It won't blow up if I change something. I've worked on way more advanced ships in shit conditions that could explode if you breathed on them wrong because it was held together with duct tape and desperation. You're fine."
Grace relaxes and Rocky continues working. He remembers telling Simon about the manual. Since he started reading it, he's been catching Simon putting it down and complaining about how unintuitive this ship is or loudly asking, "Who made this?" Grace keeps telling him that the best of the best made it, and he sighs that this version of humanity still has so much to learn about space travel.
Today, Grace is checking on how far along they are in their journey to Erid, making sure everything is going smoothly. He is sitting in the pilot seat, trying to push the buttons on the ceiling, but they're not working. He hears Simon climb the ladder and stops to watch him once he reaches the top.
"What is it?"
"They aren't working,"
"Fuck, okay, let's see."
His eyes lock on the dysfunctional panel as he joins Grace under it. Before he can register what is happening, Simon climbs onto the chair, straddling him. He stretches out to reach the panel above their heads, takes off the cover. He starts working on it and Grace forgets to breathe for a second. He's now on eye level with his um impressive pecs and wide shoulders. He can see the outline of his harness and nipples under his shirt. Grace digs his nails into the armrests. This is too dangerous. He needs to look somewhere else.
He looks down and immediately has to close his eyes for a second to calm down. This isn't better. Simon's shirt rode up, exposing his navel and a part of his stomach. The happy trail and the healthy layer of fat on his stomach make his gums tingle with the desire to just bite and–No, he's not finishing this thought.
He looks lower and the sight of his bulge shoots heat throughout his body. Why does he wear his jeans so low? Stop! He needs to get it together! To look away! He can tell through his jeans that his thighs are huge and probably muscular. Okay, down is bad, maybe up his better.
Oh gosh, why out of every person Grace could have found in space did it have to be the only person who manages to look good from this angle? Simon is fearful and makes himself small except when he's working. The way he breathes confidence, quick-thinking and resourcefulness is beyond attractive. It doesn't help that he's stunning with his sharp nose, defined jaw, gentle eyes and soft-looking hair. Or that he's incredibly gentle with everything he touches, patient and extremely smart, unlike what he says.
He's also talking but Grace isn't listening; he can't. The smell of his skin slips down his lungs and Grace has never done drugs in his life but right now he gets it, he completely understands why it's so easy to get addicted. Higher. His bulging bicep. He swallows with difficulty. Forearm muscles are dancing under his skin. His breathing is getting heavy. Hand, veiny and visible tendons working. Calluses that would feel divine tracing naked skin. Meticulous fingers harbouring countless tiny scars that Grace wants to trace with his tongue. He just knows that the metal of his prosthetic will feel delicious on his feverish skin.
"Are you even listening?"
It shocks him out of his fantasy and when his eyes meet Simon's, shame overtakes him. He looks down, again, big mistakes and tries to concentrate on his own laps. A hand cups his jaw and makes him look up. His touch feels like sunlight on his touch-starved skin. His brain splutters, overwhelmed by the feeling and Grace has to swallow a whine back down. His eyes fall into his and Simon's face is firm and serious but his eyes stay gentle. They always are. They are so close, his heart is threatening to beat out of his chest. This is bad. He wants to reach out, cup his face in his hands, guide him down, devour his lips and lose himself exploring his skin.
"Look and listen. You need to know this in case it happens again and I can't help you," he chastises. He then angles Grace's head so that he can see inside the panel again. This is really bad. He feels himself lean into it. Oh, he knew it, the calluses do feel amazing. His grip is rather strong. He could easily force his jaw open by pressing his fingers in his cheeks. Oh gosh, is he getting hard? Please, not right now!
"Grace! Really? What's with you? Am I boring you or something?"
Crap, he's pissing him off. He needs to fix this. Say something.
"You're sitting in my lap,"
Simon goes completely silent and Grace freezes at his own words. He watches as Simon slowly and carefully looks down at their position. Next thing Grace knows, Simon is on the other side of the room. Wow, he's fast. He didn't even see him move.
"Why didn't you say something sooner?" Simon exclaims but then rubs his hand on his face. "No, it's not your fault. It's me. I did this and made you uncomfortable. Fuck! I'm sorry, Grace. I can't believe I did this," he continues, looking embarrassed, not angry.
"It's fine, I wasn't uncomfortable. I was just-," Grace interrupts himself before he says something stupid.
"What?" he asks, his voice wavering."Too scared to speak?" Simon asks and he looks heartbroken at the idea. Shoulder down and fear in his eyes just at the thought of scaring him. His body curls on itself with crippling guilt.
No, no, no! They made so much progress, he can't let this destroy it. He needs to say something! Fix it! He's the one who was perving on a man recovering from severe injuries, PTSD and who was just doing his job... While being on top of him, but still.
"No, I wasn't! It was just um distracting," he splutters, digging himself into a hole.
This is so incriminating, he's done for. Okay, he can fix this!
"Since, you know, it's been a while since I was last touched," Grace continues.
Terrible phrasing, Simon will never want to speak to Grace again. Simon stares at him in silence and Grace watches in horror as his eyes widen in realisation. It's over for him.
"Oh. Oh! Oh, okay. So, that's, um, that's why uh?" he stutters, looking away.
Is it too late to throw himself out of the airlock? Hasn't this man been through enough? Now he has to put up with Grace's stage four horniness. What is wrong with him?
"I'm so sorry," is all Grace finds to say as he buries his face in his hands. Ashamed of himself. He literally has no excuses.
"It's fine."
"It's really not."
"Grace," Simon starts but he interrupts him.
"I'm just going to go now," Grace says, unable to look him in the eyes right now.
He turns around to walk to the ladder.
"Okay, but you better not make this a bigger deal than it is, Ryland. It's fine really, I mean it," Simon says firmly but with a warmth in his voice.
Grace freezes in front of the ladder and considers his words for a second.
"Okay," he whispers before climbing down.
Grace climbs down the ladder and throws himself on a chair next to Rocky. Grace is going to spend the rest of his life with Simon and he just had to embarrass himself in the worst way possible in front of him. This is a catastrophe. All of this because he can't control his feelings for Simon. Simon, who forgave him even after making things incredibly uncomfortable between them.
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So Eridians use echolocation and sonography that allows them to hear through solid materials. And we know that Rocky can basically hear the whole Hail Mary without problems.
We don’t know much about planet Erid beyond the very basics, but planets that have iron core usually feature volcanic activity and therefore magma and other materials movement underneath the planet surface.
So considering this…
Do you think ancient Eridians ever lied down on the ground to listen to the voice of their planet? Keeping very still and waiting for a faint and distant sound from down below to reach them.
I would imagine that to be possible mostly near the volcanoes, where magma comes closer to the crust (planet surface). So do you think those ancient Eridians were coming to the fire breathing mountains to listen to planet’s songs?
Did they consider their planet alive in those long ago times? Maybe they worshipped it as their creator and parent? After all, their bodies are so similar to its. They sing to each other just as the planet sings to them from time to time.
Imagine Eridians’ one and only ancient god being the planet itself.
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I love Carl's introduction. It's such a great establishing moment.
Ryland Grace has made it all the way to his bike with Eva Stratt at his heels, so her trusted security team has correctly assessed it's time to move in the cars, and Carl is approaching off-screen.
Grace comes out of the little "I don't know why that makes me such a nut!" rant, and there Carl is, stepping up into frame exactly next to Stratt. Tall, broad, unimpressed, unmistakably a force to be reckoned with, unmistakably a trusted professional.
But also a nameless goon at this point. An extension of the threat Stratt seems to represent to Grace. A depersonalized tool.
Grace clocks the cars, his presence, the unfolding situation, instantly and incredulously. And he does something clever, something he always does, which is to call attention to the absurdity of the unspoken threat by trying to force the situation into a normal mold.
"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."
Turning Eva's nameless goon into a person with agency. Trying to force a relationship that hinders coercion.
Ideally, this would force them all to acknowledge how abnormal they are acting and retreat a little to keep up the appearance of normality. Or admit to what they are doing by refusing. Either way, the ball shifts out of Ryland's court into theirs.
Neither happens, though.
Carl sees exactly what he's trying to do with that and interrupts him mid-question. "Carl." And then keeps staring at him the same way as before. One word, and we already know so much about him.
He is not a nameless goon. He is an individual named Carl.
And he fully supports what is happening there. Because nothing is normal and it's stupid to pretend that what is happening isn't happening.
So yes, while he bonds with Grace over silliness and is the astrophage-coparent and instigator of Carl's Hypothesis... he is also entirely introduced to us as the man who will wish Grace the best of success on the mission while he's being sedated on the ground. Because Carl has a personal opinion about what is at stake.
I have a headcanon that the Skittles and Twizzlers on board The Hail Mary were put there per Carl's request.
Just the mental image of Carl watching Grace get transported after being sedated. A man, who prior to that moment, his most vivid memory consists of them finding world changing discoveries with plywood, duck tape, and copious amounts of sour skittles. A man who he associates with the exhilarating feeling of wonder and life. A teacher teaching, a scientist finding, a man living.
But suddenly, that's not his most vivid memory. Suddenly, what first comes to mind when he thinks of Dr. Ryland Grace is the image of him running away, of chasing him through the compound, of the look on his face when they do inevitably catch up to him. He can't hear the excited laughter of the previous memories without them eliciting the desperate pleas for life.
I wonder if he ever gets to see the videos. How would he feel if he knew that his name was the first one that Grace remembers. Foggy like the thing he misses most about earth.
Genuinely, can't stop thinking about how his name is Carl, like the fog that covers San Francisco is named Karl, and Grace misses the fog. I'm gonna be ill.
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