Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Today was the day.

Madeline Longwood, the now de facto Hail Mary ISS lead, sat stationed at the computers near the airlocks. She clicked through the screens, confirming all cameras were live and ready—after all, this was the biggest conference call of her life. More than a dozen people in mission control watched on, and that wasn’t even factoring in all the world leaders. Johnson had shooed off the hoards of astronauts that waited eagerly outside this room.

There was to be no public broadcast. Given the uncertainty around what this thing contained, the International Space Council wanted total control over the message should their worst fears be realized. Madeline was glad for it. If there really was nothing aboard, she wasn’t particularly keen on being the voice to tell the world they were officially doomed.

“How’s it up there?” Rodrigo asked.

“Major Johnson is readying for the EVA,” she reported. She glanced over the monitor, watching him shrug on the manned maneuvering unit (MMU). Realizing he was being watched, he grinned and gave her a thumbs up. She responded in kind.

“All suited up,” he confirmed. “Jet pack is ready to go.”

“No pressure, Johnson,” Rodrigo said. He laughed. The ISS jolted as navigation readjusted the vector for pick-up. While the beetle theoretically had its own navigation system, it was entirely possible that it’d been damaged during its odyssey home. Instead, they decided to rely on the controls they knew worked with absolute certainty.

About 15 dockings from the Earth, Moon, and Mars had been cancelled given the sudden anticipated changes in trajectory for the ISS. Johnson had been nursing headaches about the whole thing for about a month now. 

The aim was to bring the ISS as close to the beetle as possible and bring their relative velocity to near zero. Johnson would use the MMU (or jet pack, as he so ineloquently referred to it as) to maneuver towards the probe, hook it, and reel it in for examination. It was just space fishing, in a way. 

“Approaching the beetle,” Dana Miller, their navigation specialist spoke. “30 meters and closing.”

“Roger,” Johnson said. He stepped into space. His MMU hissed and breathed as he shifted himself around. “I have visual, it’s—woah.”

“What do you see?” Rodrigo asked.

“This thing is a mess,” he said. “I mean, it’s intact, but the modifications were not elegantly done.”

“I don’t care if it’s elegant or not,” Rodrigo said dryly. “Does it look like its functional?”

“15 meters and closing.”

“I think so,” Johnson confirmed. “Making my approach now.” His line was a jumble of air pressure as he navigated towards the probe. Madeline held her breath.

“10 meters and closing.” Silence reigned. “5 meters and closing.” There was a click on the line. The carabiner, she guessed. Another click.

“Reel her in, we’ve got contact,” Johnson confirmed. Applause erupted from the other line, but Madeline wasn’t celebrating yet. They still had to get the thing on board—and they hadn’t a clue what it even contained. Johnson elegantly guided himself to the ship, waiting patiently for the reels to do their jobs. She gasped.

Johnson was not kidding about the state of the thing. She’d studied photos of the original beetles in anticipation of this day. Every curve, every antenna, she knew exactly what these should look like.

It looked like these had been gutted for parts. At its bottom was some sort of epoxied chamber. Little dents pocketed the probe, likely from stray rocks or other space debris that’d hit it on its journey. Not for the first time, she marveled that this thing had made the long journey home. And there were still three more on their way. It was smaller than she expected but given the way Johnson grunted as he lifted it, it was still substantially heavy.

“The Eagle has landed,” Johnson said. He paused. “Or maybe, the beetle has landed.”

“Confirmed. Thank you, Johnson,” Madeline said. “Closing airlock.” The entry to space closed, and the airlock cycled. “Airlock closed.” He removed his helmet and made a face.

“Yuck!”

“What?” Rodrigo asked urgently.

“It smells like ammonia in here.” Madeline’s brows furrowed. Ammonia? Why the hell did smell like ammonia?

“What, did a space cat piss on it?” Rodrigo said.

“I would like to remind everyone on the line that this conversation will become public record,” Jessica said dryly. Madeline knew what that meant. Be on your best behavior, assholes.

Johnson floated to the wall—they’d set up a whole toolbox for him. The strange change in shape had spooked a few folks on the ground, and they wanted to be prepared for any eventuality. He plucked a few tools and returned. He hesitated in front of the probe, and glanced towards Madeline. The enormity of the moment washed over them.

This was the future of humanity.

She nodded and he took a deep breath.

“Opening the probe.”

“Don’t forget to get photos!” Jessica’s voice called over the line. He winced.

“Right, right,” he said. He tucked his tools into his belt, pulling the camera from the wall. It was hard to be cool about this when their fate was well and truly right in front of them. She wished fidgeting in space was easier—if she were on the ground, her leg would be bouncing up and down. She settled for fiddling with her pen while he set about taking photos. Johnson left no ground unturned, even taking the video camera to get a good 360 look at it.

It was odd, she couldn’t help but observe. Whatever modifications they’d made were done with thought to the weight and counterbalance. The additional weight had slowed it down, but not so much that it would impede its entry into the solar system. The brown-ish mottled material was odd—she wondered if Ilyukhina had done that and what it was made of.

“Alright,” Johnson said. “Now opening the probe.”

It was a task easier said than done. The additions had been attached with a combination of glue and screws. The screw themselves were nearly stripped, and the beetle was unwieldy in both its mass and its shape. Zero Gs didn’t help matters much. Johnson grunted and grumbled through the whole thing.

“They were thorough,” Johnson commented. “They didn’t want this to budge.”

“Good,” Rodrigo said dryly.

Johnson struck through the epoxy, finally freeing the odd addition to the probe. Madeline held her breath. It was done.

“What do you see?” She asked, craning over the monitor.

He picked up the metal box.

“I haven’t got a clue,” he said. “I think there’s something in here.” He turned it over. “An organism, maybe? There’s a kind of life support system incorporated. The microbiology and engineering teams are going to have fun with this.”

“Roger, we’ll hand it off to Juan’s team for analy—”

“That’s not all that’s in here,” Johnson said, an odd tone in his voice. Madeline peeked over her computer. The box was carefully set aside, and he dug into the probe. “There’s more.”

“There’s more?” Rodrigo chimed.

“Yeah, I’ve got about four or five test tubes in here. Two are liquid, two contain what appears to be biologic materials, and one just has some solid stuff in there. And…” his voice faded. “…and a USB stick.”

“A USB?” Madeline repeated.

“Yeah,” Johnson said, quietly.

She knew what was going through his head, because it was the same one going through hers. This was direct communication from the crew of the Hail Mary. Their final message. Johnson held up the USB and her breath left her. Their final message on this ship. On her mission.

“Alright, let’s get this on board,” she said, steadying her voice. “We’ve got some work to do.”

No one wanted to wait. Johnson delivered the USB stick to Madeline, and he hauled the metal box and the probe to the ISS’s engineering teams for analysis.

She held the little piece of archaic technology with reverence. This little stick contained the last and final communication from the Hail Mary crew. The beetles themselves held raw mission data; flight data and the like that would be the job of a poor team of specialists to break down and analyze, but this carried what the crew wanted them to know.

The people on the line had dwindled down to the few chosen, those who needed to know what was on this. They were very lucky that they both had USB adapters on board and that one of their technicians knew where to dig it up, given that USB technology had been abandoned more than a decade ago.

“Is screenshare active?” she asked.

“Affirmative, we’re seeing what you’re seeing, Longwood,” Rodrigo confirmed.

“Plugging in.” She inserted the USB and the computer whirred as it tried to make the connection. It would take a few minutes, their technicians had warned. New technology didn’t love old technology.

The Hail Mary, she mused. It was a mission that’d been mythologicalized over the years as the world fell apart. A group of scientists on a suicide mission to a far-off solar system to save Earth. Speculative fiction and scientific theories peppered its history, from horror movies of alien encounters to hopeful documentaries that suggested that the answer they were looking for was in the solar system. Her favorite theory offered the possibility of intelligent life. That the Tau Ceti system was home to an advanced species that'd managed to control the Astrophage through science (scientists, the party poopers that they were, pointed out that none of the planets in that system could sustain life).

A beep.

She startled out of her thoughts. Another beep.

“It’s downloading,” she said, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice.  She eagerly clicked accept, more than ready to see what lay on the other end. “Do you copy?”

“We copy,” Rodrigo confirmed.

She looked over the files, which downloaded painfully slowly. The adaptor whirred as it attempted to keep up with the volume. “I have a few terabytes of data incoming. It looks like about 14 documents, six videos, a few spreadsheets, a hundred or so photos, and…” she paused, furrowing her brows. “…Thousands of MIDI files and a Waveform analyzer.”

Even on the other end, there was quiet. “MIDI files?” repeated Rodrigo.

“Affirmative,” she said. “It looks like the crew labeled at least one of the documents, READ THIS FIRST. Transmission is slow, I haven’t gotten the full upload yet. I see a full mission log—it’s a huge document—and I’ve also got a video called WATCH THIS FIRST.” If she had to guess, the documents would come through first—then the MIDI files, spreadsheets, photos, and videos.

“Helpful,” Rodrigo said. “Let us know when download is complete.”

“Affirmative.” She muted her mic, letting herself sigh. She wished Johnson were at least here. He would love this. He wouldn’t have been allowed in the room, but she could use a friend right now.

MIDI files—why the hell would they include MIDI files? The format had been archaic even when the Hail Mary launched. They’d need to dig up a few computer programs from the archives to even play them. Was this some sort of upload error? Had they recorded themselves speaking and scrambled the format? If so, she didn’t envy the poor folks downstairs who would need to crawl them to put them into any sort of sense.

The computer dinged as the first file downloaded. She unmuted herself.

“First file confirmed,” she said. With bated breath, she clicked the file. READ THIS FIRST.docx. Helpful.

Hello, Earth.

I sure hope you get this. I had to make some modifications to the beetles, and I had to trust that the navigation program would adjust for the change in mass.

On this beetle contains what I call Taumoeba 82.5, a living organism that is the natural predator of Astrophage. They were found on the third planet in the Tau solar system, a planet named Adrian.

If I were you, I’d send this probe straight to Venus, these things are relentless. Do not expose them to any Astrophage powered engine, they will eat through the fuel like a kid in a candy store (ask me how I know). Do not expose them to Earth’s atmosphere, too much nitrogen kills them instantly. These Taumoeba have been specially bred to resist atmospheric nitrogen levels of up to 8.25%.

A full mission report should accompany this. Hope that gets to you too.

Signing off,

Ryland Grace.

Madeline took a breath. Another living organism, a creature found on an alien planet.

“Are you seeing this, sir?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. The silence sat heavy between them. The message was short but said so much in so little and raised just as many questions. Taumoeba ate through their fuel. They would have been left drifting in space, unable to move or function. She couldn’t imagine a worse fate. The terror alone…

Adrian. What inspired that, she wondered. As far as she knew, none of the astronauts had any children or spouses. An intentional decision given the nature of the mission. Was it the name of a sibling? Or a mother, perhaps?

Ryland Grace. He’d been the mission scientist, a last-minute replacement after the primary and secondary science specialists tragically perished. Sure, there was bound to be documents in here that bore his signature, but why was he signing the primary document…?

Unless…

The implication made her sick. It’d been a risky mission from the get-go, but the idea that your only crew would perish while you floated alone in another solar system made her ill.

“Am I reading this right?” Rodrigo asked. “These things are bred to withstand 8.25% nitrogen?”

“Yes,” she said.

“But Venus’ atmosphere is only 3.5% nitrogen.”

She frowned, another mystery from within the probes. Grace was the scientist, he should have known that. If not, he had access to thousands of textbooks and encyclopedias that would have told him as much. So why go over 3.5%? For redundancy? 

“Oh, we have a MIDI file available,” she realized. The mission log was long. If she had to guess, it probably contained equations and photos, and a lot of other materials that made it too large to quickly download. She clicked it, searching for the right program to play it back. After a moment, two notes played.

And that was it.

“Can you play that again, Longwood?”

“Yes.” She hit play—and the two notes played again.

“Is that it?”

“Affirmative.”

Huh. Weird.

“Weird,” Rodrigo agreed. She smiled to herself. She clicked another document file. At the beginning there was a note.

PS: Will someone please cover the submission fees for this one, I don’t think I have a bank account anymore. I also might be dead. Better yet, make Stratt pay for it.

IRL Pac-Man: Taumoeba & Their Relation to Astrophage

By Ryland Grace, PhD

The paper went on to describe Taumoeba in greater detail, from its molecular structure to how it played into the Tau Ceti ecosystem. It needed an editor, Madeline thought to herself, but any journal would be jumping to publish this, she thought.

“Think NASA will pay the submission fees?” she joked.

“I will,” Stratt said, jolting Madeline out of her humor. That’s right. She was on this call too. She straightened her back. She couldn’t relax now.

Madeline opened the next file, another research paper, with the same note at the top.

Breeding Nitrogen-Resistant Taumoeba: A Case Study

By Ryland Grace, PhD

That would be useful. Reproducibility was the basis of science. When all four beetles made it back, scientists would surely want to study them and ensure that the organism can truly live in Venus' atmosphere. She opened the next. 

Astrophage as the Progenitor of Intelligent Life: A Theory

By Ryland Grace, PhD & Rocky

She paused, reading the author line again.

Rocky? What could that mean?

Isolation did funny things to the mind, she thought darkly. If her initial gut assumption was right, he’d spent seven months alone on the Hail Mary. It was possible that a part of his sanity slipped in the process.

“He just can’t help himself,” someone on the line said, a laugh on their voice. They were shushed quickly.

The next study had a different note at the top. 

PS: I was right, by the way. Goldilocks zone is BS.   

Field Notes from Tau Ceti: Eridian Biology

By Ryland Grace, PhD and Rocky

Her brows drew in. Eridian? What on Earth did he mean by that?

“What’s Eridian?” Rodrigo puzzled.

“Some of the Eridian systems were affected by Astrophage,” Stratt spoke.

Eridian systems? Why on Earth would Grace write about ‘Eridian’ biology.

Unless…

“Are the videos ready yet?” Rodrigo asked. She clicked away from the papers and glanced over the other mystery files that were suddenly very interesting. Beyond the Hail Mary, these videos must contain…

“Yes,” she said. “The video labelled ‘WATCH THIS FIRST’ is ready.” With bated breath, she clicked on it. Her video player struggled for a moment to decode the old file format, but eventually the video opened. “Can you see this?”

“Affirmative. Hit play.”

Ryland Grace stood before the camera. His features were serious, but a twinkle in his eye hinted that his news was not dire. Bruises carried up his face and his arm was covered in bandages—evidence of injuries sustained during his time in the Tau Ceti system. He didn’t wear a sling, so at least nothing had broken.   

“Hello, Earth. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

The Hail Mary was in a sorry state behind him. Lab equipment sat in broken pieces, along with an array of plastic and metal and other materials she couldn’t identify. An odd form jutted from the wall, like a tube of some sort. Perhaps this was how he bred the Taumoeba?

“I’m sorry to report that Commander Yao and Ilyukhina did not survive the journey here.” He allowed the statement to breathe, for people to pay their respects. Madeline closed her eyes. He’d been completely alone up there, with no living soul to help. He took a breath.

“I’m glad to report that we found a solution to the Astrophage problem.” He held up a glass box containing the mysterious Taumoeba. We. Who was we, in this scenario? “These little guys are hungrier than an 8th grade lacrosse team. They are Astrophage’s natural predator, and you would not believe the lengths we went to get these guys. And believe me, it almost didn’t happen. Stratt, next time you send a team on an interstellar journey, make sure the ship has a heat shield.”

Over the comms, she heard a quiet, “I should have thought of that.”

“They cannot survive in environments with high nitrogen concentrations, but these have been specially bred to survive in Venus’ atmosphere. Specifically, they can survive atmospheric nitrogen concentrations of 8.25%.” He set the box down with a clink. “You’re probably wondering why I selected 8.25% as the concentration point when Venus only has 3.5% nitrogen. That’s because Venus is not their only destination.”

Madeline held her breath.

“Turns out, we weren’t the only planet to send a ship to the Tau Ceti system to figure out what was going on. Some of these Taumoeba will be going to the 40-Eridani planetary system to Threeworld—I know it’s not the most clever name—which has a nitrogen concentration of 8%. I want it noted on the records that not only was I right about the Goldilocks zone, not only was I the first to make contact with intelligent alien life, but I spearheaded the first interstellar collaboration. Take that, Neil.”  He looked down towards something at his feet.

“I’d like Earth to meet Rocky. An Eridian engineer who might be the most brilliant person I’ve ever met.” She leaned forward as he picked up a—a ball? She edged closer to the screen, hoping to get a better look, but it was hard to see what was in the suit.

“ ♫♪♩ ,” it sang.

The MIDI files! It was language.

“He says, ‘Hello, Earth.’” He set the ball down. “I’ve got more videos of Rocky I’ll cut at the end of this. We would have failed without his help. I hope that any future endeavors to meet our neighbors takes that into consideration. If not for him, I would have crashed into Adrian, I would be burned to a crisp, and none of what’s in your hands would be here. He nearly died trying to help me, and I nearly did the same for him.” He gestured towards his bandages.  

“Moreover, I owe my life to him.” His eyes met the camera. “He’s got a whole lot of extra Astrophage that he’s going to give to me. I've decided to send these beetles home, as I know they will make it back faster than I will. But let it be known. I am coming home.” He paused and took a deep breath. His voice was shaky as he repeated, “I am coming home. I hope my documents and mission report will help you understand what happened up here, and I desperately hope I can personally answer some of your questions when I come back myself.” He looked down, as if considering something.

His eyes met the camera as he spoke. “Stratt, I hope you’re happy with yourself. You were right. About all of it. You better be around when I come back, because I think we need to have a conversation.”

There was a questioning musical note after his words. Grace looked down. “I’ll tell you about it later, Rocky.” He looked back, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “This is Ryland Grace, signing off.”

You could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed. Madeline considered Grace’s tone. He hadn’t sounded happy—was there a kink in the Project that no one knew about? There had been plenty of theories about Grace and Stratt, some more unkind than others.

Perhaps there was something to the conspiracy theory that Grace had been forced on the mission.

The video cut.

“Okay, I don’t know how well the camera is going to pick this up, but this is Rocky’s ship.” Into view came an odd structure. It appeared huge, but it was hard to judge without any other frame of reference. “It’s about three times the size of the Hail Mary. It’s made of a combination of Eridian steel and xenonite. Yes, xenon. The noble gas. It’s incredibly strong, as the ship has about 29 times more pressure than the Hail Mary.”

The camera cut again, and she gasped.

“This is Rocky.” The creature waved, singing a few notes. “He says hi.” A few more notes, and Grace responded. “Yes, this thing records light. It’s like your camera, except it captures a moment in time. Earth will be able to see and hear you.” It skittered about, humming a few more notes. How on Earth did Grace understand him? Grace chuckled. “Yes, it is amazing. Our computers will be able to play this back.”  

Another cut.

Grace's shaky hands showed a glass tunnel built directly into the ship. “Rocky built a tunnel within the Hail Mary. We realized we needed to work together to solve the Astrophage problem, and the airlock tunnel he made just wasn’t doing it. He built these xenonite cages we used to breed Taumoeba.” He pointed to the ‘glass’ containers. The camera turned to the makeshift workshop where the alien expertly crafted…something. “Let me tell you, carrying all that into the Hail Mary was a pain in the butt.”

The tape cut again.

Grace panned the camera around the alien, allowing all to see the creature’s strange anatomy and scale. It was just about the size of a dog. It let out a few musical notes. “This will be the last one, I promise. Humans are very visual people. The photos only show a part of you, the video helps them really understand. Can you spin?” It let out a few notes that sounded vaguely sarcastic, even as it shifted around. Grace laughed. “It’ll be over soon. Can you move around, do some gestures?” After a few beats, it walked, reminding Madeline of a spider or a crab. It lifted two hands and shook them, like…jazz hands? This must have meant something to Grace, who laughed. “Thanks, Rocky.”

The video cut again and the alien spoke, but Madeline’s brain whirred. The line was silent as others digested the enormity of what they were watching. Grace had not only solved their Astrophage problem but met intelligent life. Alien life. She took a shuddering breath.

“Good God,” Rodrigo said.

Madeline could only agree. “Yeah.”

“We need our long-distance telescopes pointed at the 40-Eridani system,” Stratt declared. “If there is a change in their star’s light, we should know the second it happens.”

“Yeah,” Rodrigo agreed dumbly.

“We need all other telescopes or probes searching for the Hail Mary. The second she enters the solar system. I want to know.”

“Yes, thank you Marcia. We’re here today in front of Johnson Space Center, where NASA is expected to make a major announcement regarding the Hail Mary sometime in the next few hours. NASA officials confirmed acquisition of the first of four beetles sent to Earth from the Tau Ceti system earlier this morning. We’re now hearing that aboard the beetle was a final message from the crew of the Hail Mary.

Whatever is on that beetle holds the fate of humanity in balance. We’ll know very soon if the Hail Mary was a success or a failure. Back to you.”

“What the hell are we going to say?” Jessica Kaur said, running her fingers through her hair. “We’ve got about 100 reporters out there waiting on us."

Will paced around his office, contemplating the very same question.

“We can’t confirm anything yet,” Han said on the line. “Not until we have definitive proof.”

“Agreed,” said Rodolf. “He was out there alone for seven months, the mind can do crazy things.”

“What are you suggesting, Rodolf?” Will asked. “That Grace made the whole thing up and CGIed an alien in to make a point?”

“Announce the truth,” Stratt said, cutting the argument off where it stood. “The crew sent Taumoeba, and we’re analyzing everything else.”

“Yes,” Will said, standing. “That’s right. That’s exactly what we’ll do.”