Page 89 of A Million Suns (Across the Universe 2)

Fresh air.

My parents, awake and with me.

No more walls.

I turn my back very deliberately on the body and walk to the hatch door. I shut it, trying as hard as possible not to catch sight of the body through the bubble window.

I start to type the correct code into the control panel by the door.

G-o-d.

I pause.

Under my tunic, the gold cross necklace weighs heavily against my neck, as if it would like to pull me down, down. I feel the disapproving gaze of my parents, frozen and locked away in their cryo chambers. This—this is covering up a murder.

A murder of a horrible man who deserved to die.

But a man, nonetheless.

But he deserved it.

I think about Victria’s tear-streaked face.

I can’t do anything; he’s already dead.

I could tell Elder.

But what if I’m right and Elder—

Very quickly, I type out the rest of the code.

The door flies open; Luthor’s body flies out.

He’s gone.

Forever.

53

ELDER

I GET TO THE KEEPER LEVEL ONLY A FEW MINUTES BEFORE the solar lamp is due to click off—at its proper time—and I rush straight to Eldest’s room, swing open the door of his closet, and pull out the Keeper Robe. Stars are sprinkled across the shoulder, a planet along the hem. This robe symbolizes every hope and dream my people have ever known. And I’m going to make those dreams come true tonight.

I push my wi-com and do an all-call. “Everyone on board Godspeed is to come immediately to the Keeper Level,” I say, then disconnect the link. I don’t want to waste time on words.

I slide the robe off the hanger and slip it over my shoulders. Before, it felt like the robe was too big for me. Tonight, I stand straight and tall, my chest puffed out, and the robe fits perfectly.

In a few minutes, I can hear people start to arrive. Amy won’t be here; there’s no way she’d come among a crowd of this many people—and while I’m glad she’ll be safe in her room, I wish I could walk away from all the other residents of Godspeed and take her to the Bridge myself, just the two of us.

The people’s footsteps are heavy on the metal floor, and their talk is loud, totally unlike the quiet, polite whispers that filled the Great Room the last time Eldest called a group meeting.

It will take a while for everyone to arrive. I can hear Shelby and the other Shippers organizing the group, making sure there is enough room for everyone. The Shippers are also, I know, stationing themselves among the people most likely to cause trouble. In the meantime, I sit down on Eldest’s bed. I breathe in. I breathe out. I don’t want to have to speak, not to everyone, but words will be required. I will have to do this.

There’s a knock on the door. I walk across the room and open it. Shelby slips inside and shuts the door. I wonder how she knew I’d be here rather than in my room, then realize—she probably always assumed I’d be here. This is the Eldest’s room, and whether I take his name or not, I’m still him now.

“I—oh,” she says when she sees me.

“Yes?”