Spaceacegrapeface

While the vaquita is still at very high risk of being lost forever, the fact that they are still around at all is something of a miracle. That their population has actually increased is even more miraculous.

Back in 2017, conservationists made the last-ditch decision to try moving the few remaining vaquitas into a protected sea pen until their habitat could be made safer and their population numbers more stable. Of the two initially captured vaquitas, one had to be released due to stress and the other died before it could be released.

Taking nearly-extinct species into human care is the Hail Mary of conservation, reserved for species where there are less than 50 remaining like the black footed ferret and California condor. When I heard that the vaquita rescue efforts were being called off due to failure, I was sure that was the end.

Even as a fairly hopeful, "life finds a way" person, if someone had told me there would still be vaquitas surviving and having babies in 2025 I would not have believed them.

Vaquitas are the smallest living cetacean species. Their name means "little cow" in Spanish, though they've also been nicknamed "sea pandas". There are only 7-10 adults left, they are still in terrible danger, but the fact that they exist at all 8 years after the "last chance" conservation effort was called off is something to celebrate.

"That's new."

"We're trusting you here, Mickey," says John. He's one of the few people who still calls him Mickey. He's Dr. Michael to the kids. Michael to their parents. But he and John used to chase fireflies and hunt lizards together. The first time John asked Martha on a date, he invited Mickey along, too. Mickey didn't get an invite the next week.

"It could be a serious condition," Mickey says. "There are rare conditions--"

"We found him in our east field in a spaceship," Martha says, cutting to the heart like she always has. She's still the kindest person Mickey's ever known. And if she's cutting to the heart of it, it's desperately serious or anger-inducing. "It's buried next to the barn."

"I'll show it to you," John adds, "But I swear to you, Mickey, I swear on my marriage, on my farm, I swear we're sure he's just fine."

Mickey thinks it over. He takes out an empty syringe. "All over is it?"

"Yes," Martha says.

Mickey finds the softest part of Clark's leg. He presses the needle against it. It snaps off. Clark giggles again. "Anything else I should know?"

"He can lift the tractor," John says. "Like it's nothing."

Mickey nods slowly. "Okay," he says. He taps the empty syringe against his hand. "Okay. I'm going to order the usual vaccines he should have. Can you make him screech a little? I can tell the nurse I think it's better if I do the shots myself since he's nervous."

John nods. Martha says, "Bless you to pieces."

John leans over and whispers to Clark, "Clark, can you show Dr. Michael the sound a hawk makes?"

Clark screeches. Perfectly ear-shattering and sounding exactly like any number of scared toddlers that come into the practice on the regular.

Mickey punctures all the vaccines with syringes. Draws the medicine in, then pushes the plunger so the syringe empties into the sink.

"I hate to waste medicine," Martha says. "I'm sure there's a baby in town who needs it."

"Your baby needs it," Mickey replies, tossing all the syringes and vaccine bottles into the Sharps container. "I want to test him every time. If his skin gets permeable at some point, I want him as vaccinated as his records look."

"How will you cover that?" John asks.

"Let me worry about that," Mickey says. "We may never have to figure it out."

*

But building on this, the two directors of the PHM movie saw this read, prioritised it over Weir's intended read as both more accurate and more compelling, and built the movie around that read as a basis. Particularly striking to me is a moment from an interveiw about the movie's score. One of the directors says that, intially, they tried ominous and scary music to accompany Grace waking up on the ship, but it didn't feel right. So they instead alighted on a piece of music that said, in the director's words: "Poor thing. He's going to be alright. He just doesn't know it yet."

This quote is hugely important to me, because it underpins the dialogue between the book and the movie, and can almost be interpreted as a direct dialogue between Weir and the directors. Weir writes a book that says: here is the world. It rejects me, and I don't feel valued. I deserve better than this, and instead of examining why, I choose to externalise the blame. And the director, another man, but one with a more healthy mindset, looks at this worldveiw that Weir has presented to him and says "poor thing. you're going to be alright."

Like just imagine Hail Mary makes it to Erid and leading the group of scientists/engineers is this beautiful blue-green Eridian exactly the color of Rocky's mate patch. They're charismatic, clever, overall pretty impressive...