Archive of Our Own ^beta

I’m so glad I have a helmet on for this. I imagine the smell alone would make me want to unclip my tether and float into space forever. Now that there’s a solution to the Taumoeba problem, this is just a chore. Scraping out all of the gunk and Taumoeba poop is long and tiring work. Working with kids in science class, you have to have the stomach for dissections, but scraping alien poop out of your fuel-tank-turned-sewer? Not my definition of a good time. I enjoy the mechanical aspect of it, don’t get me wrong! Getting to not worry about whether I’m going to live or not is pretty great, and I can essentially shut off my brain while I scrape the gunk.

Well, I would be able to if Rocky hadn’t been asking me questions. And not just any questions, but a question barrage about my life, and what I’ve done leading up to the mission. I asked Rocky about his past, which, wow. He’s lived for many years and it shows in his accomplishments. Erid has a space elevator (another wow, I could talk about him for hours about how it works) and Rocky? Helped create the entire thing. He won’t take any of the credit, claiming the Thrum did all of the work, but given how much time we’ve spent together, I know he is incredibly modest.

But then we turned to my life, and I have to confront everything I’ve done. Yes, I am incredibly proud of my work as a teacher. But having to explain my microbiology career is hard.

“Why you not scientist, question?” And that’s the golden question. I take a quick break from scraping the sides of the fuel bay to take a deep breath. I’ve never really told anyone about the real reason for the change in careers. Whenever somebody in the school asked, I would say that my real passion was teaching the next generation. Which isn’t wrong, by the way! It’s just may not be the reason why I left microbiology.

“Well… I left because I didn’t feel like I was doing anything remarkable. I was always interested in foreign lifeforms, but otherwise? I doing what everyone else had been doing. Earth is only so big. So I went to teach. I could pass on my knowledge to the kids, and still get to talk about science all the time. And it was nice, for them to look up to me, because I listened. I didn’t stand for name calling, or bullying, and I treated those kids like people when nobody else did.” I sighed at the end, leaning my head against the back of my helmet. It felt nice to remember my kids. And it gave me something to look forward to on the four year journey home, even though they would likely be my age when I got back (time dilation is one heck of a thing).

After a moment of silence, Rocky hummed. “Amaze. You become what you needed when young” he spoke into the radio, but I could still hear his softer tone. Tears started welling in my eyes.

“Yeah, I guess I did. It would have been really nice to have that when I was growing up, so I guess I acted like someone I would need. Good insight” I spoke shakily, thinking back to my childhood. It hadn’t always been kind. Kids used to pick on me for being interested in space movies and ants on the ground instead of the newest racing games. I didn’t have any teachers who encouraged me to pursue science. That was all me. It was scary, but I learned with an encyclopedia in the dead of night instead of going out to parties. I needed to get out of the pain of being an outcast, and into somebody to be respected. And when I couldn’t find that in microbiology, I went to teach. I was respected because I was the authority, the one with all of the information.

After a moment of pause, the radio crackled to life and Rocky asked, “you done cleaning, question?”. I shake the tears from my eyes (I didn’t want to go inside, wipe the tears, and come back out), and get back into the cleaning position, wedging myself between the walls and getting ready to scrape more gunk from the walls.

After looking around the fuel tank, I noticed I missed the top corner. Sighing, I push myself up to the top right corner where there were still noticeable chunks of waste. “Not yet, Rocky, I’ve still got a bit more to do” I pant, putting all of my arm strength into getting the stuck gunk off. These piles of waste are the only thing blocking me from going home, the tricky Taumoeba likely hiding in the layers. After this I could blast nitrogen and get rid of the pests, and refuel. Well, I still had a couple more fuel tanks, and I grumble to myself “why did we need so much fuel storage?”. I know the answer, but Rocky didn’t answer so I think he knows that too.

Once that tricky spot was taken care of, I got ready to transfer to the next fuel bay. I could take a break soon, but it’s better to get as much work done inside with the scraper and arm strength before getting the nitrogen. The more I get off now, the less I have to do later. And that’s what I call a good work ethic! Anyways, I let Rocky know I was moving on to the next fuel bay. While I was on the outside of the Hail Mary and about to move my tether, I was met with another Concerned Rocky question. “Be careful moving tether, Grace. No floating away” he warned, and I could hear his voice a bit higher than usual. Man, he could be a Nervous Nelly. But it made me feel a swell in my chest that he cared. However, this is the fourth time I’ve done this today, and the third time I’ve heard this particular warning.

“If the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles can do it, so can I” I mainly referenced the fact of sewer living, but I suppose he wouldn’t know that.

“I never hear those words together.what mean, question?” He asked everything so curiously that my knowledge of culture felt dated. It’s like telling my students about the days before cellphones, they just have no idea what it was like. I brushed Rocky off with the C word (culture, of course) and started humming the theme song. Man, what I wouldn’t do for a pizza.