Across the Universe

40 ELDER

HARLEY AND I WHEEL MR. KENNEDY TO THE RELEASE HATCH for Doc. Amy says she’ll wait for us. But I know she wants to go to the other row, to see her parents’ doors, to make sure they’re still sealed shut.

Doc opens the hatch door, and Harley and I dump the body inside. The door slams shut, protecting us from the maw of open space. Harley peers through the bubble glass window, eyes wide, relishing in one more chance to see the stars. But I only see Mr. Kennedy’s bloated body.

And I look at Harley, and the billions of stars are in his eyes, and he’s drinking them up, pouring them into his soul. He raises his arms to the window, and for a moment I have a crazy vision of Harley trying to open the door, to fly after Mr. Kennedy and reach the stars. The hatch closes. But the light of the stars is still in Harley’s eyes.

“They’re more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen,” Harley whispers.

“Yeah, I’m sure Mr. Kennedy agrees,” I say, but Harley doesn’t notice my sarcasm.

“Come on, boys.” Doc’s worried expression deepens the lines at his eyes.

Amy is wiping her face when we get back. She’s retrieved her stuffed animal, photos, pencils, and books from where she’d dropped them by the lockers. Doc looks at them, but he doesn’t comment. He picks up a floppy and fiddles with it. Wasting time. Preparing to say whatever it is he means to say.

And I know then: he’s thinking about how he is going to contact Eldest and tell him about this. And I know that the reason why he’s fiddling with the floppy is to give himself time to think of something to say to me so that I will acquiesce.

I stand a little straighter. Before, Doc would have just called for Eldest without thinking of me, without even consulting me.

“Elder,” Doc says, “I know you understand the gravity of the situation. But Amy, Harley, it is vital that you do not tell anyone else about this. Not about Mr. Kennedy, not about the hatch”—he glares at Harley—“not about the people down here, not about the fact that there is even a level below the Hospital. You must keep this secret.”

It’s coming. I can feel it. That niggling doubt Doc has that he still needs to refer to Eldest.

His hand inches toward his wi-com.

Ah. There it is.

“You don’t need to com Eldest,” I say. “I vouch for Amy and Harley.” I shift my weight so that I’m between Doc and them. I’ve always been tall, but I don’t let myself slouch now. Instead, I make Doc look up to meet my eyes.

He hesitates, but finally nods. “You’re the Elder.” He means, I’m the one who will have to answer to Eldest.

“Little Fish and I will be fine,” Harley says, throwing an arm around Amy. “You don’t have to worry about us.”

Doc’s doubt returns. “Maybe I should com Eldest anyway, just see what he thinks.”

“No,” I say.

“What?”

“I’ve got just as much authority as he does. The Season is in full swing up there, and my gen is coming from that. Doc, you’ve got to learn to trust me, not just Eldest. I say Amy and Harley are fine knowing this, and that we can trust them. And I say it’s time to go. But first,” I add before Doc can say anything else, “let me see your floppy.”

“My…?”

“Your floppy.” I take the digital membrane computer from his still fingers. The scanner reads my thumbprint and grants me Eldest/Elder access. I tap quickly, with the back of the screen black. I don’t want any of them to see what I’m looking for.

I’m trying to find out who has been here in the lower level. The scanners on the doors read thumbprints; it shouldn’t be that hard to find a trail of thumbs leading to this level, this aisle of cryo chambers, this murder of a helpless frozen victim. And it isn’t hard to find. When we checked before, we didn’t have a time frame — Doc had been down to the cryo level, and so had Eldest and a handful of Shipper scientists.

But since then, there’s only been one person on the cryo level other than us.

I stare at the name on the screen.

Eldest.