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Abby sat quietly in class. She answered nearly every question, because she knew she was right. To get one of the beanbags from Mr. Grace… it made her feel so proud of herself every time.
That’s why she pouted when he gave them study hall instead of letting them organize rocks in class. She knew everything about the differences that they were so easy to spot for her. But then Mr. Grace took that chance away from Abby.
The class had been talking about the Patrova Line, about what could go wrong with its existence. After one of her classmates mentioned Astrophage, Mr. Grace looked sick. His face had gone pale, and he nearly fell off his desk in shock, asking, “Where did you hear that word?!”
After he was answered with, “The president,” Mr. Grace told them to do their other classes’ homework or study, before rushing out of the classroom.
“What’s up with him?” Abby asked once the sliding door shut.
Trang shrugged, getting up from his seat. “Looks pretty stressed about the whole Patrova problem.”
“Probably because he actually believes it’s gonna destroy the food chain. I can’t believe these government theories are actually getting to him…” Tamora uttered, fidgeting with her skirt.
Abby almost agreed with them. Mr. Grace had looked more stressed than ever. He had dark circles underneath his eyes, he didn’t grade any of their papers… What was he doing for all of the weekend?
But what he was saying had Abby worried. She lived on a farm, she loved her horses with all of her heart. She couldn’t help but believe Mr. Grace and worry about her sweet animals.
The next day, Mr. Grace didn’t come back to class, and they had to deal with their boring substitute again. Abby saw no point in answering the questions if she wasn’t gonna get any beanbags.
Walking to 7th period, everyone was thinking the same thing. Mr. Grace probably got extremely drunk thinking about the Patrova Line and ended up too sick with a hangover to show up to school.
It was the only theory that made sense. At least, to everyone else. Abby believed that Mr. Grace was going to do something about the Patrova Line. And when Mr. Grace didn’t come back to school for months after that, she believed herself more and more.
She walked into 6th period, sitting down at her usual desk. The substitute already had notes up on the board and the TV on. They were going to be watching a video. They have been learning about fossils for the past few weeks, so she was sure it was about something like that.
The late bell rang, and everyone was seated and silenced. “Good afternoon, class! Take out some loose leaf paper and jot these notes down. Once everyone is done, we are going to watch the news that is airing in fifteen minutes.”
Michael raised his hand. “Why are we watching the news? What does that have to do with fossils?”
“It doesn’t have to do with fossils. The Hail Mary has boarded. As we know, it is a suicide mission, so we are going to see who the crew is, and what they are planning to do.” The substitute explained.
Abby raised her hand. She asked, “So it’s like a funeral?”
“Basically, yeah.”
For the next few minutes, the only sound was the sound of pencils scratching against paper and the soft, barely there tune of Billie Holiday that the substitute teacher liked to play.
“Everyone ready?” She asked once the sound of writing was gone. After receiving a few nods of the heads, she pressed play.
At first, it started off with the president, talking about how brave the crew was, and thanking them for sacrificing their lives for the greater good.
Then the screen flicked to Eva Stratt, standing in her office. She was the boss of the entire project. “Good evening, everybody. I’m Eva Stratt. You should all know who I am already, so I will skip the introduction.”
As always, Stratt was a very ‘let’s get on with it’ person. “Inside of the Hail Mary, we will have a three person crew. Our commander of the vessel is Yào Li-Jie.”
Stratt went silent, and then a video played of the man. He was tall and lanky, and he had a stern look on his face. Well, only for the first bit. It was him and his young daughter, dancing together at a wedding. He glanced over at the camera and made a silly face, and then the clip was over.
“Li-Jie is a very brave man. When all of our team would have discussions, he would have the best questions. He would crack small jokes, but would never really laugh at himself.” Stratt went on, and at some point Abby wasn’t really listening.
Then played a clip of a woman. Olesya Ilyukhina, a beautiful Russian woman with dark, black hair. It was a clip of her in her high school band, marching as she played the trumpet. Her father jumped out of the crowd and gave her a quick hug, which messed up some of the band members. But everyone was smiling.
Stratt went on a rant about her, thanking her for her sacrifice.
And then, Stratt took a big inhale. “Our last member of our crew is doctor Ryland Grace.” When a photo of him came up on the screen, the whole classroom went silent.
Mr. Grace was going on a suicide mission. “Oh no.” Abby muttered, placing a hand over her mouth. She heard Tamora start crying, sitting right behind her.
The video that played was one that they took. It was his classroom, his karaoke machine propped up, and everyone was singing a Beetles song, Mr. Grace’s favorite.
Once the clip ended, Stratt looked physically ill. She seemed the most affected by him, for some reason. She talked about his bravery now, too, but Abby couldn’t hear it over the ringing in her ears.
Stratt talked about the other backup scientists who were going to be aboard the Hail Mary, but they perished in an Astrophage incident not too long before the boarding of the Hail Mary.
Mr. Grace went on a suicide mission. He knew that he wasn’t coming back. Abby felt a small sense of betrayal. Was he not thinking of them? Did they mean nothing to him?
She didn’t know what she was thinking. They were just his students, nothing more. She reminded herself that the only reason why he spent time with them was because he needed the money. Teaching was his job.
Once the school day ended, Abby picked flowers by the field and placed them by Mr. Grace’s bike, which was still parked at the front of the school.
That pile grew. More flowers were laid there, as well as letters and teddy bears and many other gifts.
It wasn’t until Abby was in college that she heard about Project Hail Mary again.
She had just finished her last class of the day, listening to the news on her way back to the dormitory.
“Is this… is this thing working?” Abby furrowed her brows. She recognized that voice from somewhere, but she couldn’t pinpoint it exactly. She froze to a halt and pulled her phone out of her pocket. On the screen was her Junior High teacher, Ryland Grace.
In the caption below, it stated that they had received a video from the crew of the Hail Mary.
Abby sat down at a nearby bench, nearly hyperventilating. He was alive. At least, he was in the video.
“Hello!” Dr. Grace said after going on a mumble about how he found the camera inside one of the bins in the storage room. “I believe it’s for me to send you information about my discoveries.”
Abby was gobsmacked. How long ago was this video taken?
“I have been on this ship for… three years. No—twelve years, yes! The time is weird up here. I forgot.” Dr. Grace sputtered and slapped his forehead. “Anyway. I don’t remember much, but I’m remembering things very slowly. I have been in a coma, if you didn’t know. so my brain is going a little crazy.”
Abby chuckled. Her teacher hadn’t changed at all. In fact, it doesn’t look like he aged much either. He had a few grey strands of hair, but no other difference. He was wearing one of the NASA uniforms. It looked a little too small on him.
It was rolled down to his legs, revealing one of his corny science shirts. Abby remembered that one.
[Ah!]
The Element of Surprise
Abby snorted at it, her eyes filling with tears.
“I haven’t made that many discoveries just yet. I’m still figuring out how to use this ship, all while trying to get my memories back.” Dr. Grace explained. “However! I will still update you.” He hovered over to a different side of the room, camera in hand. He showed two polaroid photos of the rest of the crew. “These guys did not…” He cleared his throat, “They didn’t make it through the coma.”
Abby frowned.
“But I’m not the only one up here!” Grace said, brushing off the sadness. “They were great people, from what I remember. And I think of them every day.” Grace went back around the room. “As I said, not the only one up here. I discovered a different ship—or, well, the ship discovered me—Blip-A!”
Grace put his hands on his hips, proud of himself. “On that ship, I made a new friend. Rocky, come here!”
“Rocky is coming, statement.” Came from a robotic machine.
“That’s the translator. He doesn’t actually sound like that. He sings.” Grace explained. In the back, there was this boulder with legs inside of a ball tumbling towards the scientist.
“Rocky has arrived! Hello Grace. Hello Grace friend.” It spoke again.
“Everyone say, ‘hi Rocky.’” Grace smirked at himself. “This guy, although he’s cute and silly looking, is a genius.” Grace grabbed something that was floating in the air. “He’s an engineer! And he made this for me—it’s the Patrova Line!”
Rocky started to dance, waving his hands and jumping. That must mean he’s happy with himself. Grace noticed and started to dance too. Abby laughed at that.
The clip ended, and now Eva Stratt was on the screen. She looked exhausted, but happy. “As we receive more messages from Dr. Ryland Grace, we are awaiting his arrival back to earth. He said, in a different video, that he is landing on 40-Eridani and spending a few years there with the Eridians, AKA the ‘Rocky species’.
“We are all so glad to see Dr. Ryland Grace alive and well, and discovering things. In that clip you saw, he is checking out Tau Ceti with his crewmate, Rocky. We will be publishing his discoveries as we await his arrival.”
Abby wiped her eyes. He was coming back home. It was going to take many years, and anything could happen, but still, she was so happy.
Standing up, she switched from the news to play some music on spotify: The Beetles. It felt fitting.