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Stratt—
Holy fucking shit, what were you thinking?
Seriously, f*** you.
—Dr. Ryland Grace
Middle School Teacher
Molecular Biologist
Grand Marshal of the F*** You Parade
Dear Stratt,
I hope, for the rest of your life, your ice cream is always melted, and your shoes are always too tight. I hope that until the day you die, at random intervals (so you never know when to expect it), someone sneaks into your room, and moves all your things two inches to the left.
Maliciously Yours,
Dr. Ryland Grace
Middle School Teacher
Molecular Biologist
Master of Mildly-Maddening Maledictions
Dear Stratt,
Well, it looks like you saved the world. Hope you can live with yourself. I know I can’t. That’s why I’m going 16+ light years away to die on a literal alien planet, because I wouldn’t share air with you again, even if it meant I got to survive this ride.
I hope your nightmares are full of spiders and moldy cheese.
See You Never,
Dr. Ryland Grace
Middle School Teacher
Molecular Biologist
Emperor of Earth’s Most Epic Peace-Out
Dear Stratt,
I don’t know why I’m writing this letter. I don’t know if you’ll ever even read it. You thought you were headed for a prison cell. They might not give you interstellar mail in prison. But this is my last chance to say whatever I have to say to you, since I didn’t get that chance before I left for reasons, and I guess I’ll regret it if I don’t take it.
So here goes.
Congratulations. You were right. I did turn out to be a hero. Or close enough to a hero for government work. I went to space, met an alien, and together we survived long enough to figure out how to save not one, but two worlds. I’m even going to die out here, just like you wanted. Not for you, or for Earth, but for my friend, Rocky the Eridian. I’m going to die so that he, and his planet, can live.
How’s that for character growth?
And that’s the thing that really gets me. I know now that I can die for “the greater good” or whatever. I have that in me. I got here. It wasn’t pretty, but I got here. And that means, you could have given me the choice. If you had trusted me, if you had gotten your head out of your own ass, if you had given me time, instead of dropping it on me at the last minute, I could have gotten there for Earth. You should have told me sooner, from the beginning.
You should have given me the choice, Stratt.
I still don’t want to die. Dying still scares me to death (ha ha). But, in spite of all that fear, I’m grateful that I’m here (and not just because I’m 12 light years away from you). Rocky is the best friend a guy could ask for, the best friend in the universe. He taught me to be brave, and I wouldn’t have met him if you hadn’t sent me here.
If you had given me a choice, I would be thanking you right now. I would be sending you gratitude and good vibes from across the cosmos, and they’d make your cell (Or maybe you’re not even in a cell, I don’t know. If people were smart, they’d make you Dictatrix of Earth for Life to keep the world from falling into utter ruin while you wait for the beetles to make it back) brighter.
But you didn’t give me a choice. So I don’t thank you. I don’t forgive you. I’m not grateful to you, and I never will be.
I have to go now. It’s time to send the beetles on their way. Time for me to go rescue my friend, and get his planet saved too.
Time for me to die.
But at least I won’t die alone, which is what you set me up to do.
Sincerely,
Dr. Ryland Grace
Middle School Teacher
Astrobiologist
Hero (Sort Of)