A Million Suns

Page 45

I don’t like the way he says “disappear” in a voice that holds so much finality.
Doc’s gaze shifts to me. “I tried to help. I made the patches, and when Elder didn’t use them, I did. He could have used those deaths to instill the proper amount of fear required to demand obedience. But did you?” he asks, turning to Elder’s emotionless face. “No.” He shoves Elder’s body. Elder doesn’t resist, and he crashes against the Phydus machine. “As time went on,” Doc continues, “it became more and more obvious that what we needed was for him to step down. He was the one who needed to follow the leader. The warnings were for him.” He pokes a finger in Elder’s chest. Elder stares straight ahead, his body slack.
“And Marae?” I ask.
“I tried to talk to her. Of everyone on the ship, she should have been on Orion’s side. But no. She was for Elder.”
Doc places the wires on top of the Phydus pump. The drug is not his main concern. He strolls across the room, back to Orion’s cryo chamber.
“It’s too late anyway, Amy.” Doc sighs, a sound filled with disappointment. “Whatever kind of leader Bartie thought he could be or Elder may one day become, Orion already is. His only mistake was in trusting you to make the choice about the shuttle. I let you find Orion’s vids, but I should have destroyed them all.”
My mind races. “Why did you even give me Orion’s wi-com?” I ask. “You must have known it would lead us to the clues he left!”
Doc glances up at me. “I did it,” he says, “because Orion asked me to.”
And it really is as simple as that. Call him anything you want, but Doc’s loyal. Not to Eldest, not even to Orion, and certainly not to Elder. He’s loyal to the system. According to the system, Orion should be the next leader, and, therefore, the person Doc will blindly obey—even when he disagrees.
But—this doesn’t make sense. “If you’re the one who gave me the first clue, then who tampered with the sonnet book and the clue in the armory?”
“I did.” Doc checks a dial on Orion’s cryo chamber.
“You? But—why?”
He looks at me as if he can’t quite believe how slow I am. “I didn’t do it for me. This ship—everyone on board—we could all die if we land on Centauri-Earth. Die. But,” he adds, “I’m not unreasonable. I’ll let the Eldest make the final decision. If he says the shuttle should be launched, well, I will step aside. I just didn’t think he was right in choosing you as his decision maker.”
I finally understand—he altered the clue in the armory and cut out the page in the sonnet book because he didn’t want me to succeed. But he still left the book so I could find it. He didn’t want me to find the clue, but he couldn’t disobey Orion all the way.
“Did you mess with the space suits?” I ask.
“I figured if you got in there, one of you would use them.”
“And you didn’t care which one of us died?”
“If it helps,” Doc says, turning back to the dials on Orion’s cryo chamber, “I’d hoped it would have been you.”
It doesn’t help, actually.
“You never did realize the thing I needed you to understand,” Doc continues, adjusting another dial. “You got so obsessed with what Orion was showing you that you never saw what I was showing you.”
“Yeah?” I say. “And what was that?”
“That the important thing wasn’t getting off the ship. We can’t get off the ship, Amy, we can’t. Orion hoped that one day, far in the future, it would be possible, but no. The armory, the probes—it’s too dangerous. We have to stay here. We have to maintain the same order we’ve always had since the Plague Eldest.”
I can’t help myself—I snort in disgust.
“I know you disagree, Amy,” Doc says idly, as if we’re having a casual conversation between friends. “But the Eldest system works.”
“Eldest was twisted, sick,” I say. “You saw him at the end. He was too desperate for power.”
“Yes, yes,” Doc says dismissively. “There are aberrations in every Elder and Eldest, that is well documented, and Eldest should have stepped down when Orion came of age. And Orion—not Elder—should have become Eldest.”
“Orion was a psycho!” I shout. I start to move forward, knocking into Bartie’s shoulder as I do. He stares blankly ahead.
This was the wrong thing to do. The gun tightens in Victria’s hand—she loves Orion, after all—and Doc moves closer to the cryo chamber.
“He is neither a ‘psycho,’ nor is he Orion,” Doc says, turning a dial on the chamber door. “He is Eldest.” He looks back at Elder, still standing motionless by the Phydus machine. “You never wanted to be Eldest, did you? You always wanted to be just Elder. That’s why you wouldn’t change your name. You knew, didn’t you, that you weren’t good enough to be Eldest. You’re still just a child, preoccupied more with your silly infatuation than responsibility.”
Elder—patched and silent—nods in agreement.
“Don’t talk about Elder like that!” I roar. “Orion was a coward who killed helpless people!”
Doc turns toward me. “Don’t forget, it was Orion who gave you your precious planet, not Elder. Even when he was nothing but a block of ice, he still controlled you as you searched the whole ship for his clues. That’s the power of a real leader.”
He’s so calm, so even and measured—just like he always is. Even in this—in murdering people in Orion’s name, in staging a coup to overthrow Elder—even now, there’s no fire in Doc’s eyes. He’s just quietly and steadfastly moving forward with what he thinks is so obviously right. He’s putting us all in our assigned places. Orion as Eldest. Elder as Elder. And me—I’m still, as usual, the one he can’t categorize. And that’s the real reason why he’s got Victria pointing a gun in my face.
And I know for sure now, I know it deep down inside me—I’m not going to get out of this. I don’t fit in with Doc’s plan because I don’t fit in on Godspeed, and Doc can’t stand to have something—someone—stick out. He needs everyone to be perfectly the same, perfectly calm, and perfectly obedient to the proper Eldest, and I never, ever, will be.
I am so certain that Doc won’t let me out of this room alive that I half expect Victria to pull the trigger and end it all now. Instead, Doc punches a code into Orion’s cryo chamber.
Doc turns back around. “Amy, I’m no leader. I know that. I only want to do what I’ve been trying to tell everyone else to do.”
“Follow the leader,” I say softly.
“Exactly. There’s no hope anymore,” Doc says. “We can’t land on the new planet. And we can’t survive up here without Orion. Don’t you see? We need a real leader. Not Bartie, not Elder. We need our Eldest. It’s our only hope.”
Victria looks up at Doc, but he isn’t looking at her; he’s looking at me. “I just want Orion back,” she says, but he doesn’t pay any attention to her.
“We’re not talking about hope,” I tell Doc, but my eyes are on Victria. “We’re talking about faith. Faith that the new world will be better than this. And faith that even if it’s not, it will be worth the risk to go down there and see.”
Orion’s cryo chamber beeps, a loud echoing sound.
“There,” Doc says, “the regeneration process is beginning.”
“What?” I snap.
“Really?” Victria says, turning.
And that’s my chance. Elder’s not the only one who’s been carrying things in his pocket—I still have Phydus patches of my own. In one swift motion, I rip one from its packaging, slap it on Victria’s arm, and snatch the gun away from her unresisting fingers.
Doc eyes me, trying to determine if I’ll shoot him.
“It’s too late,” he says, almost casually. “I’ve already begun the regeneration process.” The light above Orion’s face stays green. “Even if you shoot me, he’ll still wake up.”
I move slowly to my right, near Bartie, but even if I could rip the patch off him, the Phydus would still be in his system. No help there.
“Amy, you’re being ridiculous,” Doc says in the same sort of voice he used when we first met, when he threatened to drug me for the rest of my life. “You’re not thinking straight.”
“I am,” I say. “I don’t want Orion ruling this ship.”
“There’s a chance Elder won’t use the escape shuttle, you know.”
And he’s right. I do know it. I saw the reluctance in his eyes, the way he protested my immediate reaction to land the ship.
“I have faith in him,” I say. And much more than that, I think.
Doc shakes his head as if I’m a student who can’t answer the homework question correctly.
“You don’t think I put all my faith in Victria, do you?” he asks, sneering over the word. And he pulls out his own gun. It sits weirdly in his hand. Like Victria, he’s unsure of how to hold it. Still, it’s not like a gun is hard to figure out. The killing end’s pointed at me, and that’s enough.
I widen my stance, making my feet even with my shoulders. I was raised with guns like a proper military brat; my father made sure I knew how to protect myself, to treat weapons as tools, not toys. I’ve never been more grateful for the Saturdays at the target range than I am now. I breathe out and feel the cool metal of the trigger under my finger.
“You can’t kill me,” Doc says.
“You’re right,” I say, and pull the trigger.
67
ELDER
I SEE IT ALL IN SLOW MOTION, WITH EVERYTHING FUZZY around the edges. The bang from the gun bursts out; a cloud of acrid smoke evaporates quickly, leaving behind only the smell of copper and burning. Doc crumples, an explosion of red erupting from his leg. Amy dives forward, soaring through the air, smacking a pale green patch on Doc’s arm.
Another bang. Another gun. Doc’s gun.
Another burst of smoke and blood.
Amy crashes down, clutching her arm. Dark red blood seeps through her fingers.
She pulls her hand away, presses her wi-com. Shouts.
She staggers to Victria. Drops to her knees beside the body.
I see it all but can’t move, can’t react. Everything’s so heavy and slow. I just stare as Amy screams, choking on her own sobs. Amy presses both hands into the blossoming red stain across the front of Victria’s tunic. Blood leaks out of Amy’s own sleeve, but she ignores it, intent on putting pressure on Victria’s wound.
I move my head and stare impassively at Doc. His dull eyes meet mine. The green patch on his arm ensures that he just lies there, ignoring the bullet in his leg.
I turn back to Amy and Victria.
“NO!” Amy says.
Victria’s hand reaches toward Doc. No. Toward Orion.