Page 113 of Project Hail Mary


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“Forty-six years?!” I gasp. “Earthyears?!”

“I am here forty-six Earth years, yes.”

He’s been stuck in this system for longer than I’ve been alive.

“How…how long do Eridians live?”

He wiggled a claw.“Average is six hundred eighty-nine years.”

“Earthyears?”

“Yes,”he says a little sharply.“Always Earth units. You are bad at math, so always Earth units.”

I can’t even speak for a moment.

“How many years have you been alive?”

“Two hundred ninety-one years.”He pauses.“Yes. Earth years.”

Holy cow. Rocky is older than the United States. He was born around the same time as George Washington.

He’s not even that old for his species. There are old Eridians out there who were alive when Columbus discovered (a bunch of people already living in) North America.

“Why you so surprised, question?”Rocky asks.“How long do humans live, question?”

“This is Earth gravity, question?”Rocky asks. His ball rests on the control-room floor next to the pilot seat.

I check the Centrifuge control screen. We are up to full rotational velocity and spool extension. The crew compartment has done the 180-degree turn correctly. The diagram shows the two halves of the ship at full separation. We are spinning smoothly in the void. The “Lab Gravity” value reads “1.00 g.”

“Yes. This is Earth gravity.”

He steps side to side, rolling his geodesic dome one face back and forth.“Not much gravity. What is value, question?”

“Nine point eight meters per second per second.”

“Not much gravity,”he repeats.“Erid gravity is 20.48.”

“That’s a lot of gravity,” I say. But that’s to be expected. He’d told me all about Erid before, including its mass and diameter. I knew their surface gravity had to be roughly double Earth’s. Nice to have my calculations verified, though.

And side note: wow. Rocky’s mass is 168 kilograms. That means on his homeworld he tips the scales at almost800 pounds. And that’s his native environment, so I assume he can move around just fine.

Eight hundred pounds and can skitter around effortlessly. Mental note: Do not get in an arm-wrestling match with an Eridian.

“So,” I say, leaning back in the pilot’s seat. “What’s the plan? Fly into the Petrova line and get some Astrophage?”

“Yes! But first Imake xenonite room for me.”He points down the hatchway toward the rest of the crew compartment.“Mostly in sleep room. But tunnels in lab and small area in control room. Is okay, question?”

Well, he can’t just stay in a ball forever. “Yes, that’s fine. Where is the xenonite?”

“Xenonite parts in bags in dormitory. Liquids. Mix. Become xenonite.”

Like epoxy. But really, really strong epoxy.

“Interesting! Someday I want to know all about xenonite.”

“I not understand science. I just use. Apology.”

“That’s okay. I can’t explain how to make a thinking machine. I just use it.”

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