Chapter Text
He can't get the taste of metal out of his mouth.
Either from the stale air that he's running out of, or his bloodied tongue. who knows. Why this is the first thing on his mind he also doesn’t know. With Ava’s last message still ringing in his ears, “this is bigger than us”. The voice of whatever that thing is roaring in his ears, accusing him, “is death the only thing she taught you?” Blood is dripping down his neck, either his or from the ocean that's pooling at his feet and trickling down the walls. Every part of his body hurts in some way. The heat is emanating from the walls, suffocating him, and his mouth tastes like metal.
The one other thing he knows is he’s been given one task, Ava's last order. Even if he does succeed though, he dies, and god he does not want to die. The smarter part of his brain knows he should just give in, for the good of humanity, and himself. Maybe if he were a stronger man he would focus on sacrificing himself and fulfilling her request, and do his best to save humanity. Or at least just lay down and accept his fate, try to make some peace with his death. But he was not a stronger man, and a stupid, animalistic, part of him was thrashing in the jaws of the beast, praying for a way out.
He just wanted to live.
He spits on the floor of the sub and looks down at his pendant. He's not a smart man, a strong one, or even a brave one. But he has no other options.
This time the taste is definitely blood. In fact all five of his senses are bombarded with viscera and gore as he emerges from the flooded compartment with the black box. The voice is back too of course.
“Butcher, the light must be forgotten. This madness ends with you!” The sheer wrongness of the voice makes his teeth rattle.
He clenches his jaw, “Fuck you.” He grits out.
“You think I care? You wanna eat me? Fuck that and fuck you!” He shouts as he stumbles forward to the control console and pushes forward with all his might. By some miracle he feels movement, the wails of the creature growing louder and more enraged by the second. His hand in a fist around his pendant. His fingernails have probably punctured his skin already, not that he would've noticed.
The entire sub rattles and creaks, groaning with the force of all the pressure around it. Simon grits his teeth to stop them from chattering, but does not for a moment lose grip on the handle he's grasping on to.The cacophony of wails grow ever louder as they reach a fever pitch. He thinks he matches it with a shout of his own, but he also honestly has no idea at this point.
The sub connects with something and as Simon lurches forward and feels his skull knock against the screen everything is white for a second.
And then comes the dark.
Listen, Grace loved crafts as much as the next middle school science teacher. But this was excessive, even for him.
He huffed in frustration once again as he bumped into an apparently load bearing planet and nearly sent the model of the star system that Rocky had very thoughtfully made for him, toppling to the ground. Again. Why the model needed to be so large and so easily destroyed was beyond him.
“All humans this slow and clumsy, question?” The choppy newly-added voice of his alien friend sounds as displeased as a text to speech program can be. Granted this would have been Grace’s third time putting the darn thing back together, but Rocky was the one that made it so easy to bump into in the first place!
“First of all, it's not my fault a light breeze could knock this thing down, you’d think a star system would be made of sturdier stuff to be honest. And second, no, I’ve always been told my name was something of a cosmic joke by other people.” Grace grumbles in reply as he struggles.
“How is Grace name a joke, question?” Rocky responds, his carapace tilts slightly at an angle, like when a dog is confronted with a puzzle. It was kind of cute if Ryland was being honest.
“Well, most of the time the word ‘grace’ is used to refer to a person who, like, moves well, I guess? I mean that’s one of the possible meanings. It can also mean like giving someone a chance or being nice to them when they might not deserve it. Oh, but I guess then you kind of get into religion and honestly that's a whole other can of worms I would rather not open right now.” He was definitely rambling now, but look, words had never been Grace’s strong suit. He had been woefully unprepared to become the sole English teacher to an alien on this mission. Science he could explain, not words. But then again he felt pretty unprepared for most things on this mission.
Rocky remained extremely still, while Ryland knew there wasn't a way he could possibly not be listening, what with the whole echolocation thing. Sometimes he couldn't tell when the alien could just be ignoring him.
“Rocky agree with other humans about ‘cosmic joke’, Grace no move well.” Rocky’s carapace moves in a little head shake motion as his voice box speaks solemnly.
“Haha, laugh it up, a little late to the party anyway aren't you buddy?” Ryland laughs sarcastically, half relieved that he seemed to have ignored the rest of his ramblings. He really did not want to be the one to explain religion to an alien species, Stratt should have sent a chaplain for that.
“Again I don’t get why we absolutely need a model for this.” He grumbles
“Need plan to save stars. Need model to make plan. Grace no understand, is dumb.” Rocky chitters.
“Okay well I used to have one of these back on Earth and it was a lot simpler to set up at least. One might say simplicity is a virtue when it comes to planning out suicide missions.” Grace mumbles absentmindedly.
“New word, question?” Rocky trills and then seems to stare at him expectantly.
Oh shoot. Dumb, dumb, dumb, Grace, of course you would reference the “suicide” part of the mission, you had been conveniently omitting, to the alien. Obviously he knew he would have to tell Rocky eventually, but that meant not now. Especially not when Rocky’s sad confession of his crew's fate was so fresh in his mind. Also, again, extremely unprepared to explain the concept of mental health and suicide to an alien.
“Oh, uh, well, it just means like really important, you know. Like it's just a really important mission.” Ryland stammers out before shutting his traitorous mouth. Rocky hums in acquiescence.
“Very important means need very good model to make plan. Rocky model is the best, so stop breaking!” Rocky lets out a little whistle of frustration.
“Ok, ok, I will be very careful from now on, we can just get back to planning.” Ryland holds up his hands in surrender as he lets out a little breath of relief. Breaking the news of his inevitable demise has been postponed and he can now go back to firmly not thinking about it himself.
They do in fact go back to planning, with the model and everything, when a strange notification pops up on Ryland’s computer.
Communication channels available: S̴̙͔̋̀̀̐̂̾̀̅̐͂͑̅̾̈͜͝M̸̢̨̡̘̖̲͈̺̻̬̉̇͂̾͋̓̋̅̒̓̓̑͜͠͝͝-̶̨̬͓̲͍̱̺̹̺̝̺̫͐͗̐̋͂͂͌͒́́̔̅̊͘͝ͅ1̷̛̃̋͋͐͗͝ͅ3̴̡̢̭͖͈̫͓̫̳̣̰̳͓̺̪̍̊̌̃̄̏ 1/1
What the-
All of a sudden the speakers at the entrance of his ship's airlock activate with a beep.
“Transmission signal detected. Transmission signal detected-” Drones Mary’s pleasant robotic voice. And Rylands head starts reeling, that shouldn’t be possible. They're lightyears from the nearest known populated planet, well currently just Erid and Earth, nowhere near the range of their communications.
“Grace ship pick up communication. Is from a planet question” Rocky asks, body language wary.
Ryland pulls down his laptop and starts furiously investigating the notification. “Thats impossible, we’re way out of range for either of our planets. The transmission has no information whatsoever either. The only option is…” he trails off.
“Another ship.” Rocky finishes for him.
Ryland shoots up to his feet. “Oh my god, I have to catch this signal before we're out of range. I'll be right back, wait here Rock!”
Ryland has no idea what Rocky's response was before he started sprinting back to the Hail Mary as fast as he could. For the first time since he woke up he cursed himself for not picking up after himself as he tripped over various clothing items and instruments on his way to the control room.
Mary’s voice had continued repeating the same message even as he was scrambling up the ladder and to the screen.
Transmission channels available: S̴̙͔̋̀̀̐̂̾̀̅̐͂͑̅̾̈͜͝M̸̢̨̡̘̖̲͈̺̻̬̉̇͂̾͋̓̋̅̒̓̓̑͜͠͝͝-̶̨̬͓̲͍̱̺̹̺̝̺̫͐͗̐̋͂͂͌͒́́̔̅̊͘͝ͅ1̷̛̃̋͋͐͗͝ͅ3̴̡̢̭͖͈̫͓̫̳̣̰̳͓̺̪̍̊̌̃̄̏ 1/1
Join? Yes/No
Ryland frantically taps the screen, “Yes, yes Mary, I want to join!” He yells as the screen begins loading, he nervously shifts from foot to foot, feeling the energy coursing through him. But then, as the little loading icon brings him to a different screen he freezes.
“Connected” Marys pleasant voice responds before disappearing into static.
Suddenly Ryland is at a loss for words, a first for sure, well dang it.
“Uh- Um, hello?” He speaks into the microphone hesitantly, “Oh gosh, well I doubt you understand me, you probably don't even have the same vocal chords as I do, but your channel came up on my ship. Are you there?”
He stops to let them respond. Silence. He waits for a few seconds, still nothing. Maybe it was a fluke. As advanced as the Hail Mary was, a hack job is a hack job, it's not like Earth had the time for much else. It’s possible the ship was making up nonexistent communication channels. Right as he starts to spiral into what if’s however: a voice.
“-fuck.” A strangled voice comes out of the speakers.
And holy crap that was not what Ryland was expecting. English! That was impossible, how was there a human, a human that knew english at that all the way out here?
“Oh my god. You speak english- I- Can you hear me?” Ryland speaks into the mic or it may have come out as a more undignified squeak but whatever.
“God, why can't you just leave me alone?” The voice comes out broken and gruff.
Ryland’s brow furrows, this was not the interaction he expected at all. He was expecting probably another alien, likely whos star was also dying if they're also at Tau Ceti. Not a human, who spoke english, and sounded so… broken down. Why on earth would there be another human out here anyway? Had Stratt sent another ship out into space after them?
“Um, I’m sorry, I’m not quite sure what you're talking about. Did Stratt send you?”
Nothing but crackling from the other side for a bit, when the voice comes back it sounds slightly more coherent.
“Wait- Is this real? Are you with the C.O.I? Are you real?” His questions come out frantically.
“I- Yes I'm real, this is real. And I don't think I know what that is- Uh are you okay?” He responds hesitantly.
“Yes! Please, please, just get me out of here. I'll do any other tests you want I promise, I just- Please come get me.” Ryland nearly takes a step back at the intensity of the man's voice, his begging.
He’s a second from opening his mouth to say of course he would help him, how could he not? When he's stopped by a little voice in the back of his head that sounds suspiciously like one Eva Stratt herself. Do I really have time for distractions? He almost feels sick just at the thought of leaving this desperate man alone, but… The whole world was at stake, and not just his but Erid as well. He honestly wasn't sure how far away this man was, likely not too far given the transmissions were going through but still, would it affect the ships fuel supplies much? Could he risk it? And speaking of fuel, Ryland squeezed his eyes shut as another memory resurfaced.
“And, what? The astronauts die in space?”
“Yes.”
Well there was that too. Even if he did rescue this stranger, he would just be getting from one bad spot to another. A man on a suicide mission, rescuing another, just so they can die together. It's almost like some kind of sick joke.
Ryland doesn't know how long he's been silent for, his brain has been running a mile a minute. His mouth keeps opening and closing as if to answer before he changes his mind. The stranger must sense his hesitation, as before he can respond, the speakers crackle to life once more.
“Please, I’m scared. I don't want to die.” The voice comes out a quiet sob.
And just like that, every ounce of hesitation Ryland had felt vanished. Maybe better heroes, or saviors of earth, or the Eva Stratts of the world would be able to work towards the greater good. They could save the most lives, regardless of what they had to do to get there. But Ryland Grace was no hero. All he heard was someone who was scared and begging for his help, and, Jesus Christ how, could he ignore that?
“Okay then, hold tight, I'm coming to get you.” With his mind firmly made up his voice came out much steadier than it had so far.
First things first though he needed to actually find the dude. “Mary, can you track the location the transmission is coming from?” He then closes his eyes and prays to god this works because he honestly has no idea what he'll do if it doesn't.
“Tracking incoming transmission, standby.” Ryland lets out a sigh of relief as the screen changes.
“Okay bud, I’m just gonna need you to stay on the line while my ship tracks your signal. Got that?” He asks. He realizes that the other man may have been talking as he was focusing on tracking his signal but if he was Ryland would have no idea.
“Oh my god. You're actually coming? Holy shit, holy shit.” The man seems to be a little out of it as he continues to ramble on, but it's not like Ryland is one to talk, he seems like it has been a while since he's seen a friendly face. Or heard a friendly voice… whatever.
“Yes I’m coming to get you, I promise. My ship is tracking your signal right now so I know where to go. I just need you to stay on the line. Can you do that for me?” He asks, trying to keep his voice as soothing and level as possible. His years of teaching and comforting 12-13 year olds were really helping right about now.
“I- yes I can do that. Um I don't even think I would know how to disconnect if I wanted to, it usually just happens.” The voice comes through, still frantic but a bit more intelligible than it was before at least.
“Okay I almost have your location I think. Listen, I don't know how long this connection will last. Whatever you do, stay put, as soon as I am able I’ll be on my way to your location. Is there anything about your ship I should know? Do you have an airlock?” He tacks on the question partially because he actually needed to know and partially in an attempt to get the man to focus on being rescued rather than his possible demise.
“Fuck, okay. Uh, no I don't have an airlock, I don't even have a door this thing is welded shut.” What the fuck? Okay well good to know he would need the industrial welder we had for some reason.
He continues on “Honestly I don't think I could move if I tried either, this piece of shit was definitely not made for movement wherever I am… Oh fuck, the radiation! On the end of this thing there's a ‘camera’ that uses radiation, avoid that thing completely.”
Okay what? First, how the hell was he in space in a ship that couldn't move? That would be bad enough, but radiation too? What the hell was this ship made for? This would certainly complicate things as it seems the man is just free floating in space in a giant irradiated hunk of metal he couldn't even pilot. He thinks there's an electromagnet somewhere in the ship he could use to maybe maneuver it into his ship's airlock. He's pretty sure that should work.
As he's about to ask more questions about the ship two notifications pop up on screen.
S̴̙͔̋̀̀̐̂̾̀̅̐͂͑̅̾̈͜͝M̸̢̨̡̘̖̲͈̺̻̬̉̇͂̾͋̓̋̅̒̓̓̑͜͠͝͝-̶̨̬͓̲͍̱̺̹̺̝̺̫͐͗̐̋͂͂͌͒́́̔̅̊͘͝ͅ1̷̛̃̋͋͐͗͝ͅ3̴̡̢̭͖͈̫͓̫̳̣̰̳͓̺̪̍̊̌̃̄̏ location found
Transmission connection unstable: Exiting range
Well shoot, “Okay, good news and bad news. Good news, I have your location and I will be on my way soon. The bad news is I think I'm losing connection.” Ryland says as he frantically taps at the unstable connection notification, willing it to disappear.
“No- —romis- -od” The connection seems to be fading fast, Ryland can barely make out what is being said over the speaker.
“Im coming, I promise!” He shouts as loud as he can into the microphone and has to hope some of that made it through as the connection is lost. He only stares at the now blank screen for a second before springing into action. No time to waste he has got to get over there ASAP.
It's only as he's attempting to figure out the navigation system that he stops short, remembering.
Rocky! He has to tell Rocky what-who- he found!
Ryland quickly turned around and scrambled back down the ladder toward the airlock, this time managing to avoid all the obstacles past him had laid for himself. He really did need to clean up, especially if he was going to be picking another human. And boy was that a trip to think about.
Basically the first thing he did when he woke up from his coma was get comfortable with the idea he was never going to see another human ever again. But there was a human out here! Despite himself and his conscience he was almost feeling… excited. Of course, the circumstances were terrible and they were probably both still ultimately doomed. But seeing a familiar face one last time before he dies in space was sounding pretty good to Ryland’s desperate mind honestly
But first things first, Rocky.
He comes into view as Ryland finally reaches his airlock and the entrance to their tunnel. "Rocky, buddy, big news." He shouts.
The alien himself looks... not very happy actually. He's half crouched to the ground and making a clicking noise that Ryland had never heard from the alien before.
"Grace leave, question?" He asks anxiously.
Ryland is stopped short by this question, because first of all, "You could hear all that?" He asks, dumbfounded. He knew Eridians could hear much better than a human but he had no idea he could hear all the way to his ship. For a second he runs back everything he's done in his ship so far that Rocky could have heard, oh god this was an embarrassing revelation.
"Rocky hear Grace voice, transmission voice too far, and weird. Grace is leaving, question?" He prompts more insistently this time.
"Uh yeah buddy I might be gone for a bit. I found another human who's lost in space, I gotta help him. I'll be back as soon as possible though." Ryland tries to be as soothing as he can be, but the clicking noises increase and Rocky starts letting off a quiet but high pitched whistle sound.
"Grace going back into space, is very dangerous. No one to watch Grace sleep." Right, Ryland forgot about the sleep thing. That particular quirk of his new alien friend took some getting used to. But Rocky clearly felt very strongly about it so he had felt obligated to concede on this point. Regardless of how weird it had felt at first.
Regardless of Rocky’s strong feelings on watching him sleep, Ryland had a feeling this was not the main issue.
"Yeah I know, but I'll be fine, bud. I just have to go pick this guy up and come back, I don't think he’s too far out." He smiles.
That last part was a total guess. He had been too distracted to check where the system had tracked the transmission to. Fingers crossed it's not actually too far though.
Rocky clearly was not very impressed with his answer as his distressed noises don't abate.
Ryland lets out a sigh. "Look, Rock, I know it's probably stupid. But this guy is alone, out in space and he's scared. I promised I'd help him, who knows how long he’s been out there already."
Rocky still doesn't seem happy with that but the clicks and whistles subside to a low grumble. "..Rocky understand. Still do not like though." He sulks.
Ryland smiles fondly at the alien, it was touching to know at least this alien he just met, like a week ago, didn't want him to die at least.
"I’ll be back as soon as I can be. It'll be quick, just gotta go out there, scoop him up, and boom. I'm back."
It was not going to be nearly that simple if anything the man had shared about his situation was true. But Rocky didn't need to know about the irradiated, hunk of space metal, of it all.
Ryland holds up one of his pinkies, "Pinkie promise."
Rocky tilts his carapace again in confusion "No understand."
“This is the most serious vow you can make on Earth. You just gotta hold up one of your pinkies to make a promise or accept." Ryland responds in a solemn voice. His students back on Earth always insisted they were too old for this kind of thing, but Ryland was exactly old enough to appreciate them actually. Besides, part of his job as self appointed ambassador of humanity was teaching Eridians about his culture. Of which he decided, pinkie promises were a very important part.
Rocky holds up one of his arms and extends one of the top two of his fingers.
“Close enough." Ryland nods with a grin.
"Grace go find human. Come back soon, statement." Rocky says. And if Rock had eyes, Ryland is sure he would be getting the staredown of a lifetime.
"You got it buddy. Grace come back soon, statement." Ryland agrees and starts packing up all his equipment. As he walks back to the airlock and holds up his pinkie one more time.
"I’ll be right back."
Rocky raises his own finger in response again.
As soon as he's behind the airlock doors he lets out a sound like a deflated balloon. Jesus Christ, he actually had to go out into space and perform a pseudo rescue mission. He was not qualified for this. However he was kind of the only option around, qualified or not. So he didn't have time for a breakdown over how sheerly overwhelming the past hour of his life had been.
Even if he did, he was now acutely aware of the fact Rocky could hear him even when he was in his own ship. He was not about to freak him out again after all the work he just put in to reassuring him. So, the breakdown was postponed for later. Instead he hastily makes his way to the control room only to remember that he only kind of knew how this ship even worked.
"Okay, uh Mary, can you pull up where you tracked that transmission from earlier please?" He asks as he buckles himself into the pilot's seat. The screen displays a point on his map, and hey, that could've been worse. It wasn't exactly close but he also wouldn't be blowing all his fuel on this at least.
Now again, back to the problem of Grace’s pilot experience. Or lack thereof, he still has no idea what past him was thinking, signing him up for this. Surely someone who didn’t get nauseous on elevators was available for this. But this ship was basically fully self piloted anyways right? He should be fine.
“Alright, Mary. Take us to… there.” He says, tapping the screen. For a long couple seconds she doesn’t respond, and he's about to actually reschedule that breakdown for right now.
But then, “Charting course to:S̴̙͔̋̀̀̐̂̾̀̅̐͂͑̅̾̈͜͝M̸̢̨̡̘̖̲͈̺̻̬̉̇͂̾͋̓̋̅̒̓̓̑͜͠͝͝-̶̨̬͓̲͍̱̺̹̺̝̺̫͐͗̐̋͂͂͌͒́́̔̅̊͘͝ͅ1̷̛̃̋͋͐͗͝ͅ3̴̡̢̭͖͈̫͓̫̳̣̰̳͓̺̪̍̊̌̃̄̏“ She responds, her voice going from her usually smooth robotic voice, to a crackly mess. Okay, that was probably not ideal. But one problem at a time
First things first here he comes Mr…
“Oh my god. I didn't even ask his name.” Grace puts his head in his hands. His mother would throttle him. To be fair, there had been more important things to discuss at the time it seemed. But it still bothered Grace…
Okay then, step one: rescue Mr mystery man. Step two: Ask what his name is. Ryland could do that.
Simon was dead.
He was sure of that, dying hurt. He was never a religious man, even surrounded by the sycophants in Eden. The idea of a higher power that existed, let alone gave a shit about anything that happened down here, was bullshit. He’s heard of people who do believe in a god. It's not exactly a popular viewpoint on Eden, not since the Quiet Rapture at least. No, the Children of Eden turned their faith to something more real at least.
Not Simon though. The father always spoke about dying, about their bodies fueling the Last Tree, as a necessary sacrifice. But Simon remembers staring at his mothers once warm body, and swearing to himself that he would never become a sacrifice.
Funny how that works.
Well now Simon is dead, and hell is real. He knows hell is real because he did everything he was supposed to: He rotted in a cell, for who knows how long, for people who had called themselves his brothers. He did everything Ava asked him to do, all while she didn't even know his name. He had sacrificed himself, the one thing he said he would never do, all for the greater good.
And he was still in the fucking sub.
The heat is oppressive, closing in around him as he curls in on himself trying to keep his feet out of the viscera that sloshes up onto the console he has somehow fit himself onto. He doesn't know why he bothers. When he woke up, after he died, he had already been on the floor of the sub bathed in blood.
He doesn't know how long he's been here. It could have been an hour or days. It doesn't make any difference to him, if he's in hell he won't be getting out of here anyways. All he can do is stare at the rhythmic sloshing of the blood on the sub as he thinks.
He somehow thinks a lot and very little at the same time. Every other thought just kind of comes back to some variant of, I’m dead and I’m in hell. This isnt fucking fair.
He wonders at one point if his mother is in hell. He hopes not, she was the only good thing he ever had. The only person in his life who ever thought he could be good. Except maybe Ava towards the end, but she didn't really have a choice. A lot of good it did them anyway. But he thinks about his mother a lot, which might be strange. He had never allowed himself to before, after all, she was dead. What was the point? But now he was dead so he could think about whatever he wanted without worrying about wasting his time on self pity. What else was he gonna do?
He swallowed dryly and took a shuddering breath of stale air. His first thought had been that he really shouldn't have any oxygen left, but those rules didn't apply in hell apparently.
He instinctively reached for his bracelet, tracing the rim of his pendant absent mindedly he doesn't know how or why he still has it honestly. When he woke up it was still on his wrist even though he could have sworn it broke in the whole shitshow that was the last confrontation with that thing. The black box he had done all this shit for was also conspicuously missing, along with the sheath he had got from his mother. He prayed to whatever deity put him here, that it at least hadn't been destroyed. That his death, Ava’s, and all the submarine pilots that had come before him, had meant something.
Who was he kidding though?
He has no idea how much longer he sits there, staring at the little waves of blood rolling up the walls, when he hears it.
The speakers crackle to life for half a second, and Simon's head has never snapped towards something so fast in his life. He doesn't make a sound, just stares at the beat up speaker. For a couple minutes nothing else happens, Simon figures he probably just started hallucinating. Until the speaker starts crackling again.
“------ –ello?” It’s not great, the speaker is mostly just static and garbled words until it finally spits out the tail end of a word. Whoever was speaking on the other end keeps going, Simon can’t really hear over the sound of his heart thumping in his ears. Is there another person here? How? No way, this was probably a hallucination, or the creature was back to torture him with new voices.
“What the fuck.” He says out loud.
—
Of course the radio starts failing, it wasn't reliable when he was in the blood ocean. Why would it be any different now that he was who knows where? The man on the radio's voice is hard to make out through the static now.
“Okay ----news and bad ----- -----ave your location -----on my way --sing connection.”
Simon can feel his heartbeat racing as his breathing picks up. No this is too soon, he cant already be leaving! At this point Simon didn't care if it was a hallucination, he just really didn't want to be left alone again. At first he thought it was a trick by the creature again. Maybe it was, or maybe it was the C.O.I trying to get at him again. But if it was the creature trying to get in his head, he didn't really care anymore, it had already taken everything and Simon didn't have much more to care about. If it was the C.O.I, maybe they would at least make good on Ava’s promise to get him out of here, he wasn’t naive enough to believe he would actually be granted his freedom but anything was better than this.
“Wait, wait, please! You promised you'd get me out of here. I can't stay here forever, oh my god!” he shouts at the speaker, ignoring how the effort makes his head pound.
Something he can't make out comes through the speaker, and then silence.
Simon stares at the speaker. And he stares. And he stares. He has no idea how long. Somehow the sub just keeps getting hotter and his head is pounding and his throat feels raw from shouting. He puts his head down to his knees and just cries. It feels odd to just cry. He probably cried at some point back when he was in the blood ocean, but he was also constantly trying not to die at the same time. He may be dying for real this time too, but there's nothing he can do about it now. It feels strange to just give up.
The voice of the stranger on the radio already starts fading from his mind. It had been nice for a bit, even if it was just his mind playing tricks on him. Besides he’s having trouble holding on to thoughts already, the details of the conversation are already lost to him outside of the warm voce of the man on the radio. His thoughts feel fuzzy.
He’s been trying so hard this whole time to… do what exactly? He doesn't remember if there's something he's supposed to be doing, he's just so tired. He lets his head fall back to rest on the wall as he stretches his legs out, not caring anymore if they're resting in all the blood. He's been trying so hard, surely he deserves a little rest now, a small part of his brain whispers.
As Simon goes under he hears his mother calling his name.
Ryland runs his hand through his hair for the hundredth time as he stares at the screen. The computer had told him it would be about 5 hours to the location of the strangers ship. Honestly he had no idea what to expect, he prayed the man was alright and nothing had happened in the time it took him to arrive. But he was about an hour out now, and he had to focus on getting everything ready.
First things first, the absurdly large magnet and a welder. He knew he had these in the storage compartment, he had seen it… Wait, when had he seen it?
He frowns, “Have I even been to the storage compartment yet?” he mumbles. He walks over to the hatch for the floor compartment and stares at it, yeah no definitely had not been in there before. Weird, but oh well no time for that.
He grunts as he releases the latch and lifts the door up. A dim light comes on inside, and there is the absurdly large magnet in question.
“Haha, found you.” He says as he gives the door a shove and jumps down. Okay there's the magnet, now where's the welder? He looks around the room and spots it, right as he locks eyes with the tool suddenly he feels a sharp pain behind his eyes.
An image pops up in his mind, a brown haired woman with a devilish smile gives the welder a pat.
“I cant wait to try out this bad boy.” She says with a clear Russian accent. Ilhyukhina.
Another voice breaks through the memory, “I think you're the only person who is eager for you to use that.” A tall man says dryly.
“Oh come on, Dubois, were going on a suicide mission! Might as well have fun with it.” Ilyukhina blows a raspberry at the man, Dubois, as he rolls his eyes with a smile.
There's not much more he can remember at the moment. Ryland is standing in the storage compartment motionless. Dubois… Dubois. He remembers him now, the scientist. Oh shoot he was not expecting to have this revelation right now.
There had been another scientist? But that didn't make sense. Why was he here if there was someone, anyone else, to do this? Someone who was surely more competent and better prepared than he felt. He could feel his breath hitch as his brain started spiralling. But he shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts, he had a mystery radio man to save! He will be scheduling a well deserved breakdown for later though. Ryland picks out what he needs and grunts as he tosses it onto the main floor of the ship. Thank god for artificial(?) muscles.
The magnet should work as long as the ship isn't larger than the Hail Mary itself, but he still needed a way to get the magnet close enough. Ryland did not trust his parking skills on earth let alone in space, why do you think he rode a bike everywhere? He had the tethers he used for his EVA’s but those might not be strong enough by themselves… maybe multiple?
Ryland grabbed three chords and sat down on the floor of the airlock to get to work. It might be kind of crude, he only knew how to do a simple three strand braid, but it was better than nothing probably. He'd gotten a good way into the braid when he asked Mary for a time check.
“The Hail Mary is currently 20 minutes out from the charted destination.” Okay shoot he had to hustle, Ryland rushes through the rest of the braid before running to get his EVA suit. For half a second, as he reaches for the suit, Ryland is once again hit by the gravity of the situation. He's still only actually gone out in space once and he's not exactly eager to do that again. But he's come this far so what's one more stroll into the cold expanse of space?
With his EVA suit readied he heads back to the control room, they should be approaching the ship at any moment now. As he sits down he sees that the screen does in fact display that he's only a couple minutes away. He looks over at the window across the room, nothing yet. That's a little odd. Something starts beeping, giving him a start.
“Jesus christ!” he yelps.
“Destination reached. Blip E detected.” Comes Mary’s voice. A dot showing up on the edge of his navigation screen.
Okay. He could do this. Ryland flexed his hand before gingerly grasping the control stick. “Mary, turn on manual controls please.” A confirmation screen comes up and he lets out a breath before pushing forward. The sudden jerky movement of the ship makes his stomach flip, god he hates space. He stares at the screen as he turns the ship, he should be coming up onto the ship's right side if he doesn't mess this up somehow. Ryland pulls the trigger in short bursts. holding his breath until he comes into range of the... submarine.
What the hell.
Ryland feels his jaw drop open. That should not be possible at all, like, the sheer impossibility of a submarine making it into space was somehow the most shocking thing about today. But, again for the nth time today, he doesn't have time to dwell on this. He holds his breath as he focuses on maneuvering the airlock as close to the submarine as he can manage without crashing into it.
He stops at a point that's probably as good as he’s gonna get. He stares at his lap for a second, desperately wishing that anyone but him was here right now, Dubois, Ilyukhina, Yao, anyone. But they weren't here, he was, and there was someone who needed his help. So no matter how much he didn't want to, he needed to get his butt out into space.
Feeling temporarily emboldened, he gets up, grabs his helmet , and braces himself for the coming weightlessness he doesn't know if he'll ever get used to. Time to grab this irradiated hunk of metal.
By some miracle he was able to “park” around 50 meters from the sub, and wow he is still hung up on the sub part actually. Space had no gravity, no friction, there was no way the sub had been able to actually propel itself anywhere. Something must have flung the sub into space; and it's just been floating around aimlessly ever since. It was an old rusty thing, he wouldn't even trust that thing in a pool back on Earth, let alone in space.
He took another deep breath as he put on his helmet, grabbed his things and opened the airlock. He clips his EVA suits cord to a sturdy metal bar along with his makeshift anchor for the magnet and wraps his arm around the tether before flicking on the electromagnet. The sub starts steadily moving towards him. Ryland braces for the impact, letting out a little ‘oof’ as it connects with much more force than he expected.
He bangs on the submarine walls “Hello! Is anyone in there?” He waits for a response, noises, vibrations, anything. He furrows his brow as he receives none of the above, he needs to move fast. Grabbing onto his tether he pulls himself back to the ship as quickly as he can to close the airlock. He picks up the welder and starts circling the ship, looking for an access point.
“Okay now where am I even-” he says out loud but stops short. There seems to be a porthole on the other end of the sub he hadn't noticed before. It's dark, obviously, but on the glass seems to be smears of what looks like blood. The headlamp on his helmet glints off the glass as he slowly steps towards it. He thinks his hands are shaking as he rests them against the glass and peers in. He can't make out anything other than so much more blood, if that's what it was. He stumbles back, as if burned, and takes a shuddering breath as he wills himself not to puke into his helmet.
God there's no way anyone was alive in there., and yet… The man's voice comes back to his head, begging him to help. So he had to try.
He moves to bang his arm on the sub again. “Is there anyone in there that can hear me? Please? I would rather know I didn't do all this for no reason.” His voice trails off near the end as he begs for an answer he doesn't receive. Well he's too far in anyway.
As he turns on the welder, he absentmindedly hopes that if there is anyone inside they’re not getting cooked. At this point though, he's starting to doubt he's going to find anyone. Not anyone alive at least, Ryland is optimistic, not dumb. Maybe he should just open the airlock again and cut the sub loose, but even if all that's left in there is a body… they didn't deserve to be left like that, floating in space in such a morbid coffin. It's not long before the blood starts gushing out, at first in a lazy stream that quickly morphs into a shower. Ryland wishes he could close his eyes but that would be too easy wouldn’t it.
After what feels like hours he gets the opening big enough for him to climb through. He places down the welder and takes a deep breath before sticking his head inside. And what the freak. By some unholy miracle there's even more blood than he thought, every visible surface is dripping with it. The walls, the ceiling, everything.
He launches himself backwards, fumbling with his helmet with unfeeling fingers, miraculously managing to tear it off right as the contents of his stomach are released onto the floor. And as soon as he manages to right himself he's back to dry heaving, because oh my god the smell. The air is thick with the tangy scent of iron and something rotten. He just has to put the helmet back on and hope there's nothing left in his stomach to throw up.
He moves back in and pauses right at the sub before hesitantly stepping into it.
“This suit is absolutely ruined now.” He mumbles to himself as he stares at the blood soaking his suit. He looks around, and there he is. A man is on one end of the sub curled up on what was probably once the console, unmoving. Ryland hurries over to the man, not bothering to pause and properly look at him before scooping him up and getting his ass out of that sub.
If it weren't for the new muscles he woke up with, adrenaline, and the primal fear he felt even stepping foot in that sub, it strikes him that he probably would have had trouble moving the man. As he plops him down on the floor of the airlock and rips off his helmet and gloves, he finally looks at the stranger. For one, he's covered in blood just like the rest of the submarine. How much of that was his own, Ryland had no idea. And for the most part he can't make out any distinct features beyond his longer soaked hair and general… solidness.
He shakily reaches for a pulse point, more just to confirm the worst. Or that's what he thought.
Ba-dump
He yanks his hand as if burned, and presses back on his neck probably with more force than was necessary and waits.
Ba-dump, ba-dump.
A pulse. He has a pulse. He’s alive.