A Million Suns

60 AMY

MY HEART THUDS IN MY THROAT, AND IT MAKES ME WANT TO throw up. I’ve been so focused on everything else — Elder, the murders, the mystery — I’d nearly forgotten the most important thing.

My parents.

Trapped in ice, in the cryo level, sleeping.

Helpless.

I race down, down, using the handrails to leap the steps two at a time — and the deeper I go, the more the smoke wraps around me.

It’s an acrid scent, like burning metal, a smell so sharp it cuts my tongue like a knife. A snot-yellow dust covers my skin. It’s as fine as baby powder, but it stings like bites from fire ants, and I use my sleeves to beat it off. I tug my tunic up over my face so it covers my nose and mouth, and I let my hair down, hoping I can get at least a little protection on the back of my neck from it.

My foot slips, and — fortunately — I grab a handrail. Just in time. There are two more steps — and then nothing.

I lean down, gripping the handrail for support. The bomb was centered on the elevator that extends from the Hospital to the cryo level, just as I’d suspected. Shrapnel and the force of the explosion have ripped through the metal stairs here as easily as if they’d been made of paper.

We’re cut off from the cryo level.

For one crazy moment, I consider jumping. How many feet could it be to get to the bottom? These steps don’t go directly into the cryo level. I’m a couple of feet above a solid metal surface. There must be a hatch or something leading down to the cryo level. There’s a pillar between the stairs and the elevator — maybe there’s a door built into it. But the yellow smoke is heavy and impenetrable, and judging by the ragged edges of the metal on the stairs, I bet there’s plenty of debris below that could kill me. I stare as hard as my watering eyes allow me to, but all I can see is a mangled mess of shattered metal, twisted beams, and blown rivets.

My throat burns, making me cough; the yellow powder must be affecting me in ways I can’t even tell. I shiver; it’s colder here than anywhere else on the ship. I creep back up the stairs. I can feel my heartbeat thudding in my ears, and I’m cold with sweat. I grasp at air. I remember the way Victria thought she was dying, overwhelmed by the idea of a world beyond the ship. I feel the same panic surging inside me, overwhelmed by the idea of still being trapped behind walls, forever behind walls.

When I get back to the top, I search through the crowd that’s gathered around Elder at the Recorder Hall to tell him what I found. He’s surrounded by people, and I don’t bother being polite — I shove them out of my way, ignoring their angry cries, then I pull Elder by the arm until we’re far enough away that no one else can overhear us.

“I can’t get to the cryo level,” I say. I describe what I saw between the levels.

He nods as if he expected it. His eyes are dead and empty. Elder gave up hope on the Bridge, but I didn’t give it up until I could see no more in him.