Work Text:
But it's cold, and it's cold, and it's cold, and it's cold, and it's cold
And I don't know, I'm alone, I'm alone, I'm alone, I'm alone
The powers that be were moving in on Eva Stratt. Now that the Hail Mary had been launched, a particular English idiom kept echoing in her head during available moments of silence: The chickens were coming home to roost. She used to be able to wave her hand and the consequences of all of the bulldozing she had to do to get the Hail Mary on its way to Tau Ceti would simply disappear. But now she could only delay the inevitable. She knew it was only a certain amount of time before she was the scapegoat for all the lawbreaking and immorality before the world truly went to shit.
Eva stood at the entrance of her darkened home library, the novel she was reading under one arm and a cup of tea in hand. She had planned to enjoy her nights at home before she was dragged off to jail. But when she went to enter the room she stilled.
The man sitting in her favorite arm chair, obscured by the shadows, made her realize that maybe her time had already run out.
Before Eva could even decide to speak or turn and run for her front door, the man reached over and pulled the cord on the lamp next to him. And the next thing Eva was aware of was the sound of her mug shattering on the floor.
Ryland Grace’s face was staring back at her.
Ryland Grace who should be thousands of miles from Earth, in deep space, in a coma, was somehow in her library.
“Oh damn, your tea,” said the man, that on closer inspection yes could be Grace, but Grace on steroids and having grown a goatee. He was loudly chewing gum, a habit Eva had never known Grace to partake in. And he was missing his characteristic askew glasses and quirky t-shirt. Eva wasn’t sure why her psyche was choosing to haunt her with such incorrect imitation of the man. For what she had done to him she figured she would get a carbon copy to haunt the rest of her days while she rotted away in prison.
“Don’t worry about the mess, Ms. Stratt, please have a seat” said the Grace doppelganger, gesturing to the lesser armchair across him. Eva finally noticed the gun that he was holding, eyes too busy taking in his face. “Oh and don’t worry. I’m not him. And you’re not crazy, you’re not seeing things.”
“A twin then?” asked Eva as she gingerly sat down, her brain supplying a rational answer at last. “We had no records of Dr. Grace having any living family, let alone–an identical twin I take it?”
“It was always better for people not to associate Ry and me. I don’t like the idea of getting him mixed up in my business.”
Eva couldn’t help letting out a small disbelieving laugh, even with the gun still trained on her, “So Dr. Grace had a twin who was an assassin? CIA? This is ridiculous.”
“Yeah people were always underestimating my baby brother. Did you think no one loved him? No one would miss him? No one would come knocking, looking for answers?” asked the man with Grace’s face, clearly not in a joking mood.
Eva sat up a little straighter and knew that she needed to move things along, if it was her fate to die tonight, might as well get to it. No reason to dance around why this man was in her home threatening her with a gun. “I don’t suppose you will believe that he bravely volunteered for the mission? He understood that no one else could have taken the place of the science officer. That he did it to give humanity a fighting chance before we are plunged into the next ice age?”
“You and I before know those are lies, Ms. Stratt.”
“That may be, but they do save Dr. Grace his dignity.”
“Oh yeah,” said the man, cracking his gum in an irritated manner, and shaking the gun, “I saw the CC footage. I saw my little brother run for his life in tears and then pushed into the dirt. I talked to the men you had do it. They weren’t forthcoming at first but with some encouragement they talked. They told me all about it. What they did on your order. I think we are way past talking about dignity.”
Eva gritted her teeth, never being a fan of being lectured to, especially by overly emotional men, “Have you come to kill me Mr. – is your surname Grace too?”
“Nah, that’s all Ry, you can call me Six.”
“Alright, Mr. Six, are you going to use that gun and kill me?”
Six considered the woman across from him for a moment. He almost seemed to deflate a little before he looked down at the gun and said, “You know the first person I killed was my dad, we used to rough me up real bad. I had a smart mouth, I’d talk back, get in his way when he had had a few too many. Ry was quiet, his head stuck in a book, stargazing, working hard on homework, trying to get me to do mine. The bastard left him alone. Until he didn’t. Until Ry being skinny and smart started to get on his nerves and he thought hitting him would, make him into a man I guess. I came home from work one night and found Ry with a black eye and busted glasses sobbing his eyes out. Our dad was passed out on the couch. Ry wasn’t even upset over getting hurt, the asshole had smashed a model of the cell Ry had worked hard on for his biology class. It was like something snapped in me, seeing him bruised and crying. I marched into his bedroom got his 45 and get killed that fucker with it. Called 911 and confessed so Ry wouldn’t get any blame. Ry went into foster care and I got tried as an adult.”
“And somewhere along the way you became some sort of hit man with a code name, how violent, how American,” said Eva. She was starting to lose patience. She had heard many sob stories in her life and she was bound to hear more, the way the world was heading. “Do you wish for me to cry and beg for forgiveness Mr. Six? Because I will tell you now. That I do not regret what I did to your brother. Given the choice, I would do it again. It is regrettable, the circumstances. I am only sorry you did not get to say goodbye.”
Six cracked a smile and shook his head, “Ms. Stratt, if I had known your plans for my brother I would have gotten him the fuck away from there. You can trust that.”
“Even so, it is a cruel reality we find ourselves in.”
Six let out a deep sigh, letting the gun drop, tucking into his holster. “Yeah, that’s fucking right. No, Eva I’m not gonna kill you. You and I are more alike than you think. I too have had to make hard moral decisions to preserve the greater good and all the jazz. I just get my hands dirtier doing it. Failing to protect Ry this time, that’s on me. I’ll carry that weight. I’m not gonna kill you. I just wanted you to know that Ryland Grace was loved. He will be missed. You made a mistake there with your calculations.” Six then stood up, moving to make his way out of the room.
“You can’t stop the mission, there is no way to recall the ship at this point,” blurted out Eva, wanting to make sure a lingering fear was out in the open.
Six looked back at the doorway, “Oh I know. I wouldn’t try even if there was. Because I believe in my brother, unlike others. He’s the smartest person I know. And if anyone can save us. It’s him. Good night, Ms. Stratt.”
At that Eva Stratt was left alone in her apartment, staring at the broken remains of her tea cup.
✦✦✦✦✦✦
Decades later, Courtland Gentry sat by the fire in the cabin he shared with Claire Fitzroy and her kids. There was snow coming down outside, something he would never have expected for Louisiana in March when he was young, but was just part of his new reality now. Claire and her boys had made a run into town to pick up some provisions and to check the mail. Society had broken down in some ways, but some systems kept running, just slower and less proficient than they used to be. Courtland used to dutifully accompany Claire on her town runs, but now that her boys were teenagers and were both skilled marksmen, thanks to Courtland, he was happy to stay home and put his feet up on the ottoman next to the fireplace and get a nap.
It wasn’t long before his peace was disturbed by the stomping of boots on the porch and the door slamming open as the boys, Dylan and Cohen, tumbled in, carrying the crates of food. They quickly stashed them in the pantry before running off to their room, preoccupied with whatever entertainment they had picked up in town.
Claire followed behind, kicking off her boots by the door and hanging up her coat. “Hey Six, sleep well?”
Courtland stood up from his old sagging armchair, stretching out his back and letting out a groan, “Not too bad. How was town? See anybody?” Courtland walked over the counter to start gathering supplies for making coffee.
“Not really, the boys saw some of their classmates and they talked. Mostly about new hunting spots. Oh by the way,” she walked over to her coat and reached into the deep pocket, “This came for you. Looks very official, from an Eva Stratt?”
Courtland immediately halted his coffee ground scooping and walked over to Claire, taking the small package from her. He tore it open to find a SD card with a letter wrapped around it. On the paper was written: For Courtland Gentry, wherever he may be.
Even after all these years he couldn’t forget those pen strokes. He remembered them from all the letters he had gotten in jail, from the Christmas and birthday cards that somehow found him when he was on assignment.
It was Ryland’s handwriting.
Courtland wasted no time marching into the boys’ bedroom and snatching the tablet away from Dylan with no explanation for which he received an annoyed, “Hey gramps, what the hell?” Courtland ignored him and went into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him and locking it.
He sat on the bed and inserted the card, selecting the only file that was present on it and hit play.
He only had to wait a moment before the screen lit up and his baby brother’s face appeared, his twin brother who looked to be about 30 years younger than him. Courtland covered his mouth as his eyes began to sting with tears.
Hi Court. Well this is something, huh? Can’t believe this would be the lot in life for the Gentry twins, huh? Well I believe it for you. You are the action star after all. You were always saving me. But I guess I got into too big of a mess for you to come and save me this time, huh Court? I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry that I didn’t say goodbye. I bet you found out all about what happened, I was a bit of a coward. But I’m not going to run this time, Court. Not again. So I’m doing it properly this time. This is my goodbye.
Courtland could barely see the video through his tears at this point, his finger rubbing over the image of his brother.
I really wish I could home Court, I was going to come home and bring what I hope will be the solution to saving the Sun. But I made a friend out here and he needs my help. His name is Rocky. He’s an alien! I made first contact with intelligent alien life! Me, your brother, Ryland Grace! Isn’t that great? But anyway, he needs my help. I gotta go and save him. I gotta go be the hero this time. So I’m sending along the cure for the astrophage. Hopefully you guys still have a science program and can get it to Venus. And then you can get the Sun back to full luminosity.
And when you feel that full sun on your face for the first time in half a lifetime, think of me. Enjoy some Skittles for me. I hope they still have Skittles. I love you, I miss you. Thank you for everything. I gotta go.
By the end Ryland was struggling to get the words out, his much younger face matching the tear stained stricken look on his older brother’s. Afterward Courtland could do nothing but sit there and hug the tablet to his chest. When Courtland had been chasing down bad guys in exotic locations it always felt like a means to an end to get back to his brother, to be reunited with his other half. He never expected Ryland would have a greater destiny than him. He never thought their paths would diverge in such ways that his brother would be truly lost to him. When he had learned about him being sent on the Hail Mary, he had almost convinced himself that Ryland had been kidnapped and was missing. Not so anymore. His brother had made his choice. He was overcome with some much pride and yet so much sorrow all at once.
One day he would get to bask in the joy of the summer sun with Claire and her boys, his grandsons, and he would be all the while missing his brother.