Ghosty!!

The next thing you recall from that day, or perhaps night—the logistics surrounding your wake-up are unclear—was choking. Something is lodged deep in your esophagus and testing the limits of your gag reflex. Your vision was blurry, but you did see the si-if-looking robot arms reaching down toward you. That sent you into an even bigger panic.

By the time the bridge picked up, you were tugging at cords and tubes while simultaneously trying to push the robot arms away. You must have been seriously out of it because all of a sudden you were pushing against fleshy arms. Someone was over you, trying to push you back down. You didn't understand why he was holding you down until he helped one of your shoulders and yanked the tubes out of your throat.

Your memories of the rest of it are hazy, but the next time you woke up, it was without tubes and cords stealing your breath. Instead, you woke to a snoring man beside you. It should have freaked you out, but it was a better wake-up call than robot arms. Of course, what the man had to say after he realized you were awake freaked you out more than any robot arms ever could.

It's been weeks since then, but some nights before you drift off to sleep, you play it back in your head and imagine what would happen if you had woken up in a hospital bed. Because then you would not have to be here, trying to figure out how to open some sort of alien communication sent over from a massive alien ship not a couple of hundred feet away, with a middle school science teacher.

"It says it's xenon." You say, as you point the element detector at the dirt colored cylinder looking object. Its scientific name, the mobile optical emission spectrometer, is something you are not comfortable with not knowing how you know, so the element detector it is. The object is not quite a cylinder because the sides aren't round, so actually it's more like an irregular prism. Except that the sides don’t follow the same shape.

Dr Grace pushes off the far wall to get to where you are. He's already shaking his head as he lands next to you, reaching out to grab the lab table next to you to keep from drifting. You let go of the prism, and it floats in the space in front of you. Fighting the simmering irritation, you angle the element detector so he can see the black text that says Xe.

"Xenon is a gas." Grace blurts out, creases running deep across his face. He is still in part of his EVA suit. Or at least the undergarments that keep him cool while he is in his EVA suit, and he looks incredibly stupid, you can't take him seriously. Especially now with his lab goggles on. Somehow, even with the strap that wraps all the way around his head, they are still sitting askew on his face.

"Well, yes, I know that, but that doesn't change that it's xenon and a solid." You huff, moving to now lift your own goggles to sit on top of your head. "Now what?"

"We open it." Grace reaches out for the prism. First, he shakes it, but no sound is made. He then begins to examine the xenon’s surface, looking for any buttons or notches that could be the key to opening it. He presses down on every part of it, but he's met with silence and stillness.

"God, let me try," You sigh, shaking your head in exasperation. Grace lets it go, and you take it from him. You twist the top of the prism, but nothing happens. After a grunt of annoyance, you try again, this time with more force. Still nothing.

"I have an idea," Grace says, gently taking it from your gloved hands. He tilts his head as he grabs hold of the top of the prism just as you did. But this time he twists to the left, not the right, and with little to no force, the seal breaks. Grace smirks at the prism like he just beat the hardest level robot in an online chess game. He then, without pulling the top off of the xenon case, looks up at you.

"That was what I was going to try next." You dismiss his eyes, clearly seeking some sort of praise as you fold your arms over your chess and turn away.

"Obviously." Grace laughs softly. It makes you angrier. You know he's just trying to lighten you up, but it only serves to irritate you more. You don't like feeling stupid. Especially with people you don't know well.

Sure, you and Dr Grace have been on the ship together now for close to two months, but not much conversation has happened. You didn't know him on a personal level, and he didn't really know you on a surface level. Every day, it seemed like you were someone new. It was as if you woke up from the coma with a crumbled wall around you, broken shards and rubble littering your mind and heart. But just as fast as Grace had noticed them in the first few days awake, noticed the quiet pauses that seemed to bring you to dark places, the flinching from him just speaking, you had hidden them again. You took the piece of the crumbled wall and built as fast as you could. You built so fast that Ryland has to question why. He figured that shutting down was the only way you knew how to protect yourself.

Grace has been awake for nearly five months now. When he first found out that he wasn’t the only living organism on the ship, Grace cried. When you eventually woke up three months later, and Grace saw how old you were, he was glad you had missed the first couple of months. You didn’t have to help carry Ilyukhina and Commander Yáo or have to see every breakdown Ryland had. Instead, you woke up to a steadier Grace, one who, when he saw you were just a kid, took it upon himself to be a steady foundation for you. He saw his kids in you, someone who needs help, guidance, and support. Grace decided that when he saw you choking on tubes with nothing but terror in your eyes, he would be the support for you that he had needed when he woke up alone floating in space.

Grace now pulls the top of the prism off. He peers into the new opening before leaning in to take a whiff. His body goes rigid as his eyebrows shoot up. He moves quickly, pushing his way towards the far wall.

"Oh no!" He exclaims in a deep, almost comical voice, well, it would be if it weren't for the fact that he looks just slightly terrified. He uses all sorts of things to pull himself over to the glove box currently located near the ceiling. You follow after him just as fast, concern driving your every move.

Grace knocks over a container of test tubes, and they go flying in all sorts of directions. When he reaches for the glove box, he somehow he trips mid air and misses the handle and stumbles away from it. After an embarrassingly and horrifyingly long time, Grace gets the xenon prism in the box.

He shuts it with a loud thud and springs back like it's already killed him. You jump too, and once the chaos settles into the quiet hum of Mary, your temper grows.

"Grace! You fucking scared me!" You shriek out as Grace runs a hand over his face. You can see the tension in his jaw, pulled tight.

"Can we stop it with the cursing?" Grace calls over to you, halfheartedly.

"Alright. Sorry." You mutter out, now feeling a little guilty at the stressed look on his face, but still annoyed at him. "And can we please get gravity in here? If you had floated over here any slower, we could both be dead. Admittedly, we should have started with it in there, but still. I'd really prefer it if I didn't die two months after waking up." You shake your head and rub the bridge of your nose with your index finger and thumb.

"Also, aren't you a science teacher? Isn't it the first thing you teach students during labs? To never directly sniff anything? Waft not sniff?" You continue your irritated ramblings, and Grace swears this is the most he's heard you talk consecutively in a row; it somehow eases the tension in his jaw.

Grace had figured out he was a teacher before you woke up, but when he actually got to interact with you, even if you were closed off, the belief had solidified. The way you asked questions or proposed ideas was astounding because you were so young yet incredibly bright, and it had ignited this spark in him that he had seemed to forget about. Like now, he almost forgot how powerful passion is, especially in kids. You recovered memories he never thought he’d get back. Memories of his students, of a field trip his class had gone on to a science museum, and even some memories of the lesson plans of activities he never got to do with his students. But right now your fire brings him back to heated discussions in his classroom on weather of not aliens existed. Now he wishes he could tell all his students he had the answer literally sitting in front of him. He wished you could have been one of his students in those types of discussions. You would have been a hassle, but the best kind.

"I'm pretty sure toddlers know to waft and not sniff. It's like—like look, don't touch! It's essentially the first lesson every kid learns. But for some reason, you broke the simplest rule in the book!" You finish exasperated before folding your arms over your chest. The force of the movement, mixed with the zero gravity of the ship, pushed your body to spin slightly. You quickly reach out for the wall to stop it when you see Grace's hint of a smile.

"Okay, so in hindsight I shouldn't have done that, yes." Grace starts, and slight amusement begins to bubble under his defensive stance. "But look, we're both alive. And just because I implement rules doesn't mean I always follow them."

"What, so you're a hypocrite?" You bluntly question, a brow lifting quizzically.

"I meant as a teacher. As a teacher, I don't follow all the rules I implement." Grace clarifies, pushing one of the still-moving test tubes away from his face as it floats towards him.

"That's worse, you're a hypocrite to impressionable children. A hypocritical teacher." You shake your head in mock disappointment.

"Most people would just call us teachers." He attempts with a glint of amusement in his eye. A smile begins to break onto your lips, but you quickly close your eyes to compose yourself. You let out a scoff to cover your chuckle, trying to seem unaffected.

It is moments when he sees you happy that keep Grace fighting. If he could see you smile at least once a day, it would be enough to get him to the next. Even with your anger, even with your unwillingness to let him in, Ryland tries his best to give you grace. If he were in your position, stuck in space light-years away from Earth with a strange man, cursed to die before you could legally drink, and with no recollection of how you got here, he would be pretty irritable too. Even having had the chance he did to live a good portion of his life on Earth, he was still devastated at the realization that the last thing he would live to see would be one of the many white walls of this ship.

The gravity is a welcome change. During your journey here, Mary had assumed the essence of gravity because of the force of the forward motion of the ship. But ever since you stopped moving,  the gravity has also stopped. But now that you actually have both your feet on the ground, you feel somewhat calmer.

You walk back into the lab from the cockpit, Grace following after you to the glove box. You look through the glass and down at the prism that is now sitting on the floor of the box. The top has fallen to the side while the prism itself lies on its side.

"Now, let's take a peek at what’s inside you," Grace says, speaking to the inanimate object. You give him a look that he ignores.

"Be careful this time. No sniffing without thinking, take precaution."

"Wouldn't do that to you again, promise," Grace says as he puts his hands in the gloves. Now, as his quiet concentration fills the room, you see it for the first time. The slight tremor in his hand. The twitch of his eye as he carefully begins to pull something out of the xenon casing. You want to ask him whats wrong, but you know the answer. He is scared, and he has been scared for a long time. But whenever you're around, he doesn't let himself show it. If he could,

He would stop shaking, but there are some things out of his control.

Unsure what to do or say, you simply step closer and gaze through the glass over his shoulder. You don't talk about his unsteady grip on the metal tongs. You just watch as he pulls from the container a hollow sphere with very thin, long, leg-like xenon wires curving down and out of it. Your gaze lingers on the object longer than Grace gives it his attention, because before you can even speak on it, Ryland flips the prism casing around to attempt to open the other side.

"Hey—wait, that kind of looks familiar." You mutter out, eyes fixed on the sphere with the lines. You stare at it for a moment, racking your brain. You know you recognize it, the image seems to be in graves in your head, but the words are lost on you. You tap your finger against your crossed arms as you think. "I swear I—oh!" You call out as your body steps back with excitement. "I remember! It's why we're frickin' here!" You step back, trying to remember the name that goes with the memory. "The Pa—Pat—Par," You keep thinking aloud, but Grace ignores you as he screws the top off the other end of the prism.

"It starts with a 'p,' I know that. It was named after the woman who—oh yes! Petrova! It's the Petrova line!" You call, and that finally gets Grace's attention. "It's a 3d model of the Petrova line." You nod along to yourself, not getting close to the glass of the glove box again to look at it.

Grace now turns his focus back toward the object he had set down. He picks it up with the tongs and holds it closer to the glass. He nods, agreeing with your statement. "Yeah, I think you're right. That must be the star out there. Tau Ceti." You glance toward one of the thick windows of the ship and watch as the star comes into view as the ship orbits itself to keep the gravity.

"Which means that whoever is over in that ship," Grace gestures toward the window as Mary spins, and you can for a moment see the alien ship. "Must be here for the same reasons as us."

"Take out the rest of it." You encourage, hitting his arm slightly to get him to move. Grace sets down the Petrova line model and turns the xenon prism around. From the second opening, he uses the tongs to pull out another object made of the same material as everything else. This object, like the last, has long thin arm like wires sprouting out of it, but this time the hollow sphere at the bottom is much smaller, and the wires are not curved. Along with the non-curving wires, there are circular tips at the end of each strand of xenon. Just as Grace pulls the entire piece of xenon out, it springs open, making you both jump back.

"Jesus!" You exclaim, holding your chest. "Fuck," you breathe out, turning around to catch your breath. This time Grace doesn't scold your curses.

"Whoa," Grace quickly bounces back from his momentary surprise and presses both hands against the glass as he peers down at it. The object now sits like a sphere of spikes, but the spikes aren't sharp, and they are all different lengths. You look now between it and the Petrova line model.

"It has to be another 3d model." You voice quickly, moving over to the computer and the monitors sitting in the corner of the lab. You take a seat on the swivel chair as you turn on the monitor. "We need to take it out. I have to get a better look at it." You pull up a map of Tau Ceti to see if there are any similarities to the new model and the previous one.

"First, we have to make sure it won't kill us," Grace says.

"Yeah, good plan." You nod, looking over your shoulder at him. "Um, how do we do that?" You ask ask after moment.

"Good question," Grace draws out the good before stepping back from the glove box with his hands on his hips. "Maybe we just—open it a tiny bit and see if anything happens." He purses his lips in thought. "Unless, of course, you had a better idea."

"No, yeah, that—let's just do that." You agree, now swinging around on the chair to face him.

Turns out, the xenon is not toxic. After a very careless inspection, Grace and you come to conclude that the element, which should be a gas but is somehow a solid, is harmless. Even better, you found out that the xenon object was another 3d model.

"That's Tau Ceti," You point to the center of the model where all the wires are sticking out. On the monitor, you have pulled up a map of the star system the Xenon is modeling.

"Which means that this," Grace rolls the table the model is sitting on in front of the monitor and points to the end of one of the legs where a tiny 3d planet sits. But unlike all the other planets, this one has more than just a circle at the end of the wire. "Must be where they are from." He says, referring to the ship as it passes through the line of sight of the window.

"Forty Eridiani," You read aloud from the screen. "It's further from here than Earth," You observe, typing something into the computer to zoom in on where Earth is relative to Tau Ceti.

"You're a long way from home," Grace says softly under his breathe, eyes locked on the tiny planet. For once, his glasses sit straight on his face as he takes a second to grapple with this new information. You can see again now the slight tremble of his hand. He's still scared, still worried.

"We should add Earth onto the model and send it back." Your voice, breaking the quiet. "It seems like we're here for the same reasons, and we're both far from home."

Grace clears his throat as he stands from his crouching position. He shoots you a determined smile, heading for the station in the lab with building equipment. "Let's go make the first human contact with aliens."

The next message you received is housed in the same oddly shaped casing. And this time, instead of Grace having to jump off the side of the ship to get it, it arrives through the door of the airlock. You catch it this time, in your own red EVA suit, and over the coms, triumphantly brag about how easily you caught it. Grace doesn't point out the fact that it was literally shot out directly into your open hands while his wasn't, but you both know he wants to. Rather, he focuses on setting up a rope system to get around more easily in zero gravity as you come back inside.

"So, they want to connect our ships?" You question aloud, quietly watching as Grace flips the new xenon contraption in his hands. After inspection—or flipping it over—you notice the lines of xenon line up to create an image of both EVA ships. But one strip of xenon stands out starker than the rest; the strip connected to both the ships like a bridge.

"I think so," Grace breathes out, his tone dropping its normal cadence of curiosity and playfulness. You can feel the dread radiating from him and crawling up your skin.

There's a brief moment of serious contemplation that passed over you. Sure, this is a massive leap toward progress in your mission. But at the same time, you can't help but worry about what could go wrong. You can't help the endless, consuming fears that this could go deadly wrong.

"Can we stop it?"

Grace slowly halts his fiddling with the xenon. He doesn't want to scare you, but he knows that this is best. He would love not to need to face the unknown to keep you safe, but your situation doesn't allow it. The Earth's future is at stake, and if even one more alien planet is at risk, then that doubles the urgency of action. Grace wants to protect you, and he knows the best and scariest way to do that is to make contact.

"I don't think we should," Grace admits, turning slightly to look over his shoulder at you. You take another beat, trying to suppress your own doubts in order to think clearly. You know what's at stake, and you know you need to start acting like it.

"It's—we need to be careful. I mean, what if all those messages were just some scheme to get us close so they can take all our stuff and leave us for dead? I'm not saying that's what's happening, but we should be prepared." You question out, now pacing back and forth behind Grace, who is seated at a lab table near the window, deep in thought. If he wasn't so stressed, Grace might have taken the time to appreciate your unusual amount of speaking today.

"I doubt that's the case. They are here for the same reasons as we are. We need to be able to communicate better. And an hour ago you were all for alien contact, what's with the change?" Grace asks, setting down the xenon and spinning around in his chair to face you.

"I never said I was against it. All I mean is we have to be smart. Let's put aside the fact that they could be tricking us, I guarantee you our climates will be deadly to each other. I mean solid xenon, come on. " You scoff, having stopped your pacing, you lean against the wall opposite him. Grace lets out a soft laugh at your words, his posture easing up a bit.

"Okay, yes, we will be careful." He nods, a hint of a smile threatening to spread across his lips.

"Good." You respond quickly. You tap your fingers against your folded arms for a second before blurting out, "And if they try to eat us, don't expect me to hold back the I told you so."

"I wouldn't dream of taking that away from you." Grace rolls his eyes sarcastically and turns back to the lab table.

It doesn't take long after you slow the spinning ship to a stop for the other ship to start moving. You watch from the lab window, slightly terrified as a wire of xenon stretches from the edge of the larger vessel out to Mary. An elevator-like contraption shoots out from the other ship and across the shaft that the xenon arms created.

As soon as the gravity is shut off again, Grace busies himself elsewhere. He starts preparation for contact by getting his suit ready to go, making sure all of Mary's systems are functioning properly, and once that's all done, he meticulously starts cleaning up around the ship. He steers clear of the central hub where the lab is located to leave you your alone time. Instead, he focuses on the medical bay slash dormitory and the Don't go Crazy room.

While he works, you attempt to lounge about the lab. Grace had settled most of your worries, but there is still a nagging feeling in the back of your mind. You try not to think about the fact that an alien organism is mere minutes away from either befriending you or tearing you and the only other human you know limb from limb. You pull yourself over to the computer using the rope system Ryland set up and click through applications until you land on a large file named 'Music'. Whoever had created the ships database was an angel. Thousands of tracks were attached to the file. Songs as old as the 1920's all the way up until November of 2023.

Ironically, the song you currently have on loop whenever Grace lets you play music is the same song you woke up to all those two months ago. Hello by Martin Solveig & Draggonette is the only thing you know will be able to distract you as the bridge between ships is made. So you open the file eagerly and press play.

The opening drums instantly call to your attention, making you tap your fingers to the beat against your leg. Next comes the guitar, which starts a subtle movement in your upper body that directly follows the movement of your fingers. But the second the piano's electrifying cords cut through the noise, you're a goner.

It takes all but two lyrics for you to be singing along with the recording, clapping, and moving your body in accordance with the music.

Before you know it, you're somewhere else completely. You're in the back of a car, leather seats cool against the bare skin of your calf. Your hair is blowing around you like a halo as the wind whips in from the lowered windows of the car. The vibrations of the drums rattle through your tiny body as you sing along. The lyrics that come out of your mouth sound right but make close to no sense, but your heart is fully in it. You hear a laugh come from the front seat like a ray of light. It's deep and comforting, a voice of someone trustworthy and safe. His voice is one you seem to recognize deep in your bones because when he turns around from the driver's seat, his silhouette blocks the illuminating sun behind him, you feel a laugh bubble up within you, matching his. It feels like the easiest thing ever. He says something to you, but before you can place what it is, the final "Hey" echoes out from the speaker and pulls you back to reality.

Now in the silence of the lab, you float breathlessly. The feelings that wash over you are ones you can't place with any certainty. There are tears in your eyes, but you are not sure if they are of joy or utter despair. Warmth blooms in your chest as a knot forms in your stomach. It was so rapturous and safe, you could have stayed there forever. But a sinking pit is pulling at your heart. It was gone in an instant, before you could relish it, it was taken from you. Worse, you sink further, as you realize that you'll never again be able to drive in a car with the windows rolled down, blasting music you love with someone you love a seat away.

You love them. It distracts you from everything else. You loved whoever it was that was sitting in the driver's seat. It was as easy as breathing to deduce. There was no hitch of doubt that passed over you as you thought about it. Odd. So you do have someone you love back on Earth. So you aren't alone in the universe after all. You have someone you love and who loves you back on Earth, blasting music and thinking of you too.

The feeling is overwhelming. Both elating and absolutely devastating. Your heart feels bombarded with so many conflicting emotions that it blurs your vision even further. But before you can even try to begin to decipher any of it sensibly, Grace calls out to you. You quickly blink away the water from your eyes as you hear him getting closer.

Later. Later, you'll have to deal with these newfound memories and all the emotional roller coasters that came with them. For now, you have to make contact with an alien without getting eaten alive.

"Is everything ready?" You ask, using the rope to propel you toward the outside of the airlock, where Grace is holding to the wall in his red EVA suit.

"Yep. Checked all systems twice. Everything is good to go." Grace affirms, brushing his gloved hand over his suit to straighten out a nonexistent bump.

"Okay, well." You swallow the lump in your throat while you watch him smile reassuringly at you. "Guess you should head out."

"Yeah," Grace nods gravely, his voice dying in his throat. His fingers aimlessly fiddle with his EVA helmet resting in one of his hands.

You both float there for a while, with no real intention to move. You stay still as if it may change what needs to be done. The truth is, it won't, but the possibilities of losing someone else are too loud for you to let him go without some hesitance. All protests seem to die in your throat the longer you float there.

Grace is no better. He knows what he has to do, but he's also terrified and grossly under qualified. The thought of trekking out into the unknown keeps his body suspended still in the air. Yet some other part of his conscience is urging him forward. If he doesn't take the leap into the depths of space—well, really it's an enclosed tunnel which is equally as terrifying—no one else will. He has to do it for you and for Earth, so he nods firmly, the tremor now in his leg, and takes hold of the tether rope to keep him connected to Mary and a headlight to attach to his helmet.

He clumsily attaches the rope to his suit and the light to his headpiece, and you watch, twiddling your thumbs anxiously. You have to tell yourself he's only fumbling because he's scared too, not because he has no ability and might die. The images of the car come back to you now suddenly and violently. You can't help but feel a pull to stop Grace as he pulls himself into the airlock. You only have him, and if you lose him, like you lost the man in the driver's seat, you don't think you'll be able to complete the mission Earth sent you here to do if he leaves you.

"Wait—" He halts immediately, concern taking over his features like it was already simmering below the surface. "Do you have to go out there? We can't really know what's out there. Maybe we should rethink this whole thing. I don't think I'm—we're ready yet." Your throat tenses as you speak. "We can still call this off and wait it out." You swallow, trying to push the burning sensation away from your eyes.

"I can't—I don't—What happens if you die?" You can't look at him anymore. All you see are flashes of the driver's silhouette blurring with Grace's. "What—what if you get eaten or something. Then I would really be alone—"

"Hey, hey," He calls your name gently, "listen to me." His voice isn't demanding but assertively tender. There is no doubt in your mind that he used this voice on his student. "I'm just as terrified as you, and I could try to lie to you and say everything will be fine, but I know you know better." His walls seem to break down as he speaks, the previous feign of calm for your sake now crumbled at his feet.

"Grace—"

"I don't know how to do this. I really don't. I'm trying to be a strong grown-up in your life, but it's hard when our lives are the plot out of some sci-fi movie." Grace huffs out, shaking his head, still finding this whole situation hard to believe.

"I'm not asking you to be a 'strong grown up' in my life," You scoff, brows furrowing petulantly.

"Doesn't mean I won't be anyway." He looks at you with something you recognize from somewhere but can't place. It's almost a reverent kind of affection reserved for a select few. "I know our memories are hazy, but I—kid I—I feel like I know you. I feel like you meant something to me," he tries to laugh off the gravity of it, but it doesn't work.

"I'm not a kid." Your voice begins to waver.

"Yeah, you are." Grace smiles sympathetically. "Look at you," He says, and he does look at you, like you saved him, like you hung the moon and start. "You're incredible, and smart and talented, but you are still a kid. Can't be older than 20. You really shouldn't be here. But you are. And I can't—I can't fix it, I can't save you from our inevitable doom. I can't." Tears well in Grace's eyes.

"But I can tell you that I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Even if I'm scared shit-less, which I am, believe me. I'm the ultimate scared shit-less guy." You laugh faintly, and it makes him smile

"Quit cursing." You mock him with zero intent to make him stop. Ryland huffs and looks to the floor of the ship. It takes him a moment to collect himself before he continues. More tears threaten to pour as he meets your gaze.

"You are the most important thing to me, I can feel in my bones—in my—my soul. I look at you and—" He chokes on his word. His fist flies up to his mouth to muffle the sound of his sob. He takes a deep breath to steady himself. "And I think, god, I love that kid. And I would rather die in some dark, solid—somehow—xenon tunnel, by getting eaten by aliens than let you die." You let out a wet laugh.

"So please, let's do this together, calmly, so that you won't have to be alone." You nod solemnly, watching him in his red EVA suit. He smiles and reaches out to squeeze your shoulder.

Just before he turns to the air lock, you add, "Just—look, don't touch, and—"

"Waft not sniff." He interjects with a nod, you halfheartedly smile and nod too. Grace then turns to the door, puts on his helmet, and walks down the circular hall to the edge of the ship. You shut the large door behind him, making sure it's locked before nodding at him. Just before you turn to get back to get on coms, he lifts his hand and gives you a lazy grin, thumbs up.

The coms come to life with a static crackle. You quickly pull up the live feed from Grace's EVA suit. Your whole body feels on edge, your ears perk at every tiny sound, and your hand twitches against the metal trackball mouse. You're suddenly very aware of the fact that the sleeve of your EVA ventilation garment is brushing against your wrist. Trying to roll it up your arm only results in further irritation, and pulling it down is of no use due to the fact that it was built perfectly for the length of your arm. You huff out, trying to ignore it as the feed from Grace's suit loads. It's pitch black, nothing but darkness beyond the edge of the airlock.

"Any way you can light this up?" Grace's voice cuts through the coms. He sounds just slightly unsteady as you watch him grip the edge of the ship.

"Let me see." You answer back, clicking away to find a way to turn the outermost lights on. Brows furrowing, your eyes scan the screen for anything. You look to see if there are more lights, because you can run to the control room to turn them on manually, but you would prefer it if you could stay with Grace and do it through Mary's database.

"Anything?" He asks. You glance back at the live video and see Grace's hands gripping the ledge of the airlock. You grumble in frustration, and you reach out to mash down on the button that lets Grace hear you.

"Afraid not." You take a shaky inhale before letting out an audible huff of irritation. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright." You watch as Grace pushes off the ledge of the ship.

"Do you—" You swallow, watching his movements with anticipatory dread. "You can come back inside—"

"No, my head lamp will do fine. Just have to stay near the edge." Grace interjects reassuringly, his tone still soft even as he stands on the very edge of uncharted territory. The push propels him toward the side of the tunnel. He collides into it with a grunt.

"Are you—"

"I'll be okay," Grace says comfortingly. With a heavy sigh, he slowly begins to haul himself along the side of the xenon tunnel.

You watch in silence for a long while as Grace trudges on. What seems like hours go by while you watch with bated breath, even though you know it can not have been more than six minutes. All you can really see is the side of the tunnel, the rope floating to the side of Grace's arm, and the seemingly endless darkness.

"Everything okay?" You ask, watching his feed. You want to hear it from him, not see it from his body cam.

"Everything is swell." His voice comes out strained. You watch as his grip on the wall fumbles slightly. Your posture straightens as you watch. His breathing gets heavier as his hand slips from the wall.

The video from the feed cuts out for just a moment, and when it flashes back on, you can no longer see the wall but just darkness. Your breath catches as it clips out again, and you hear a pained noise before the video cuts in again. Now all you can see is a close-up of the opposite xenon wall.

"What's happening?" Your trembling fingers against the coms button as you speak. He lets out a grunt in response, and the video shows him pushing back away from the wall.

"Just a slip." He replies, continuing his forward motion. It doesn't take long for him to reach the end of the tunnel. "I can see the ship." Is all he says as he approaches a solid wall of xenon.

You watch as Grace runs his gloved fingers along the wall, looking for some sort of opening. No sounds leave you as your heart pounds loudly in your ears. Part of you wishes it were you out there, stumbling over yourself. If anything happens to Grace, you know you won't be able to piece yourself together. And all the people of Earth would die because you couldn't be brave, because of your failure. Another part of you knows that if you had been the one to go out, you probably would have peed yourself already, and after that, very little would get done.

After a short search, Grace's camera shows a small window near the bottom of the tunnel. The shoulder-width, trapezoid-shaped window is only visible for a split second before his camera is pressed against the wall and your visibility goes to black.

"What do you see?" The question goes unanswered, and your heart rate picks up. "Grace? Are you okay? Whats—"

"Fine. Good, everything—everything's fine." Grace's voice trails off, and you have to assume he sees something. You hear two thumps through his intercoms before he speaks again. "It's just more darkness. If it weren't for the messages we got, I'd think the ship was abandoned."

"There has to be something there, right? Shine your light through—"

A flash of light is the first thing you see to cause alarm, followed by a bang and a yell. Grace's distinct voice ripples through the speaker of the coms like an earthquake. You watch helplessly while the feed flashes as he spins. Your heart pounds against your ribcage, and you're calling for him again the second your brain catches up with what's happening.

"Grace?" You press down on the coms. "What's out there? Are you okay?"

The camera feed stabilizes before his breathing can be heard again. Now, fuzzy, you see Grace approaching the xenon wall once more. His voice comes in breathless as he speaks into the intercoms.

"It was—there was a claw—"

"Grace? Please, tell me what's happening. Are you alright? Are you hurt?" The desperation in your voice catches his attention. His movements stop momentarily for him to respond.

"I'm fine. I just saw—something. I'm not sure, I think it's—it's a—"

Once again, the camera presses up against the xenon wall, blocking your view of what's happening. Two more thumps come in through the speaker, and you remain quiet, listening for anything to help you understand what's happening. Grace lets out a noise, close to disbelief and relief. Through the coms, his voice cracks, and his words sound somewhat terrified but also a hundred percent certain.

"It's a rock!"