Page 93 of Across the Universe (Across the Universe 1)

“What are you playing at?” Elder shouts, and I realize I’ve forgotten to pay attention again.

I should pay attention.

But . . . why? This has nothing to do with me.

It does, a voice whispers in my head.

How? I ask it.

But there is no answer.

“You frexing chutz,” Eldest says, leaning in close to Elder. “They need hope, don’t they? They need to look at the pretty sparklies—”

I look up at the pretty sparklies. They are pretty. And sparkly.

I blink. Where did the sound go?

Elder and Eldest stare at me.

Should I say something to them? They look like they want me to say something.

But what should I say?

“Amy?” Elder asks, quietly.

Eldest grins with all his teeth showing. My stomach clenches again, bile on my tongue, but my lips curve up, matching his smile. Eldest leans forward. He strokes my cheek. As he reaches for me, I have a sudden urge to flinch. But that’s silly—why should I flinch? I stand there. He wraps both hands around the sides of my face and draws me closer.

“Get your hands off her,” Elder snarls.

“Don’t you see?” Eldest says. I think he’s talking to Elder, not me, but I’m the one he’s looking at. “The people of Godspeed have simple needs, simple wants. Give them some sparkly lights and they call it hope. Give them hope, and they’ll do anything. They’ll work when they don’t want to. They’ll breed when the ship needs it. And they’ll smile the whole time. ”

Eldest smiles, his lips curling up. His eyes stare into mine, so warm and brown and comforting.

I smile back.

54

ELDER

SOMETHING’S NOT RIGHT. AMY’S NOT RIGHT.

“What’s wrong?” I ask her.

She blinks. “Nothing. ”

I have to get her to Doc. I don’t know if I can trust Doc, but I don’t know of anyone else who can help. I sure as frex can’t trust Eldest.

I get Amy off the Keeper Level and away from Eldest as fast as I can. The fear and exhilaration she showed when we first went up the grav tube is gone, replaced with mild disinterest. She follows me down the path to the Hospital garden like a dog. Her eyes stare straight ahead, not at the flowers, not at the statue of the Plague Eldest, just straight ahead. I wonder if she’s even really seeing anything at all.

At least a dozen people litter the ground floor of the Hospital. Half of them are elderly, and the other half are their younger counterparts, sons and daughters who have brought in their mothers and fathers.

“She’s gone,” a man says, leaning in close to the flabby-armed nurse who runs the ground floor emergency room. “She’s too old to travel through the grav tubes, but I told her about the meeting—you know, the meeting on the Keeper Level. And it’s left her completely baffled. She’s gotten all confused. ”

“Not confused,” the old woman behind him says in a cracked voice. “I remember it, clear as day. Those stars that trailed with light. Only time I ever saw stars. ”

I pull Amy along behind me, as if she is a distracted child, but in truth, I’m more distracted than she is.

The flabby-armed nurse nods at the young man. “It’s not your fault. Many elderly get confused in their old age. We’ve got rooms for them on the fourth floor. I’ll send her there and have Doc look at her. ”