Across the Universe

61 AMY

AFTER ELDER ABANDONS ME IN THE RECORDER HALL, I STAND there, alone in the dark. I’m not sure why Elder went with Eldest — I trust Elder, but not Eldest, and I thought Elder agreed with me about Eldest.

Under it all, always, deep inside of me, is a pulsing worry for my parents, a constant desire to find the killer and to protect them, as ingrained in my being as my heartbeat. A wave of fear washes over me. My leg muscles tremble, but I can’t tell if it’s because they want to run, or because they want to collapse from under me.

“Amy?”

I bite back a shout of surprise.

“It’s Orion,” he says, striding from the shadows behind the model of Earth.

“Where were you before?” I ask. “I thought I saw you…”

Orion smiles sheepishly at me. “I was looking at the wi-com locator, just for fun, you know. I saw Eldest was nearby. I… I don’t get along well with Eldest. I thought it might be best for me to lie low until he was gone.”

“He hates you, too, huh?” I ask. Orion nods. “What’d you do?’

“It’s mostly just the problem of my existence.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Orion brushes his hair out of his face, and I see a flash of white: a scar trailing up the left side of his neck.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Orion says, “I’ve seen you running and… what are you running from?”

He’s the second person to ask this, but I think he means something different from the girl in the rabbit field.

“I’m not sure,” I say, “but I think I’m tired of running now.”

“Yeah.” Orion glances behind him, into the Recorder Hall. “Me too.”

“I better go,” I say, even though I don’t have anywhere to go. I just know I’m not going to stay here, stagnant, afraid to move, cowering in the shadows of unreachable planets.

“I’ll see you soon,” Orion calls after me.

I don’t run back to the Hospital. I walk. I won’t let myself enter the zone where my body’s movement drowns out my brain’s thoughts. I force my feet to go slowly so that my mind can race.

The air is humid in the Hospital garden. If I was on Earth, I would think that it was about to rain — but I’m not on Earth, and rain here is nothing but sprinklers in the sky.

“Leave off,” an elderly voice behind me says. “I can walk up the stairs on my own.” I turn, curious. This elderly voice has an inflection of knowledge and insight to it — and I recognize it. Steela. The woman who dispersed the crowd of Feeders in the City, on my first run after I woke up.

“Yes, Mother.” The younger woman speaking is not like her mother. She has the same dead monotone that Filomina used when I observed her examination by the doctor.

Steela catches my eyes with her cloudy ones, the color of milk mixed with mud. She looks warily at me for a moment more, then her wrinkled lips spread into an even wrinklier smile. Her teeth are stained and crooked, and I can smell onions on her breath, but still it’s a nice smile. It’s a true smile.

“Mother,” the woman says again.

“Shut up, you,” the old woman says pleasantly. “I’ll just be a moment.”

“All right, Mother.” The woman stands perfectly still, like a windup toy that has run out of windup. She’s not upset in the least with her mother’s rude words, and she seems perfectly at ease with merely standing.

“Nice to see you again,” I say, extending my hand.

Steela’s grip is firmer than I’d expected. “Wish I could say the same. I hate this place.”

“Mother,” Steela’s daughter says pleasantly. “We should get you to the Hospital now.”

Steela looks defeated and defiant at the same time.

“Mother.” The woman’s voice is needling, but pleasant. Perfectly pleasant. Perfectly creepy.

“I’m coming!” Steela sounds like an angry child, but she just looks like a sad old woman who is too aged to make decisions for herself.

“I’ll take her,” I say before I really think of what I’m saying. “I mean, I was going there anyway, no problem.”

The daughter blinks. “If it is amenable to you, Moth—”

“Yes, yes, it’s amenable. Now go.” Steela watches her daughter leave. “Frexing shame, watching your daughter become one of them.” I open my mouth to ask who they are, but Steela’s a step ahead of me. “One of them brainless twits. They labeled me crazy when I was twelve, trained me up to be an agriculturalist.” She gazes at the garden behind the Hospital as I lead her to the steps. “I made that garden. Weren’t nothing but shrubs and weeds till I came. I’ve been takin’ them little blue-’n’-white pills ever since. But I don’t mind. Rather be crazy taking drugs than empty like that. Kind of wish me daughter was crazy, too. Might like her more then.”

Empty. What a good way to describe them.

“Heard about you on the wi-com,” Steela says, taking my arm. Her grip on my elbow is strong, belying her gnarled fingers. “Don’t reckon you’re what they said you were.”

“I reckon you’re one of the smartest people on this ship.”

Steela snorts. “Not smart.” She looks up as we reach the doors. “Not smart at all. I’m just scared, is all.” She grips my elbow tighter, somehow finding the thinnest skin to dig her fingernails into. I want to pry her fingers from my arm, but when I look down at her, I can tell that she’s using me as a lifeline, and I’m not going to be the one to let her drown.

“What do you have to be scared of?”

Steela stares blankly ahead. “I’m one of the last.” She glances up at me and sees my confused face. “One of the last of me generation.” The doors slide open and we step inside, but Steela is going slowly, slowly, until she actually stops just a few feet inside the lobby. “No one’s ever come back from here.”

“Don’t be silly.” I laugh. “I left here this morning.”

Steela gazes down at my smooth arm. “I don’t forget. I’ve never forgotten any of them: Sunestra, Everard, me Albie… all of them dropped off here by their loving, brainless families, and none of them ever came back.”

I bite my lip in worry. “I’ve never seen them,” I say, but I remember not too long ago, the woman who was being checked in. The nurse took her away. But where?

I lead Steela up to the front desk and clear my throat to get the heavyset woman’s attention.

“What?” she asks, staring at Steela with cold, hard eyes.

“Her daughter came to drop her off,” I say.

The nurse nods and starts to come around her desk. “I’ll take her up to the fourth floor.”

“But you haven’t even asked what’s wrong.”

The nurse rolls her eyes. “What’s wrong?” she asks Steela.

“Nothing,” Steela says.

“Did your daughter say you were having delusions?”

“She said I was…” Steela starts, a worried look on her face.

“That’s not so bad,” I say, patting Steela’s hand. “Old people don’t always think straight. It’s nothing to worry about.” I glance at the nurse. “It’s nothing to go to a hospital over. I can take her back home.”

“What kind of delusions?” the nurse asks, bored.

Steela’s face grows dark. I can tell that she is really worried, really scared. “I… I remember…” she mutters.

“What do you think you remember?” The nurse doesn’t look up from the floppy she’s typing on.

“The stars,” Steela whispers. My hold on her hand tightens. “Earlier, when Eldest said…”

Her voice trails off. She does not have to finish.

“But…”

My full attention is on Steela. I can tell by the way she’s shaking that what she’s trying to say is vitally important to her. The nurse yawns.

“But I can remember that happening before. When I was pregnant with me daughter—”

“Didn’t happen,” the nurse interjects. “Lots of the grays have been saying the same. Just getting the past mixed up with the present.”

Steela bristles. “Don’t tell me what I do and do not remember!”

“Classic delusional case, brought on by age,” the nurse states in a matter of fact way. “Come with me.”

She steps out from behind the desk and reaches for Steela’s arm. Steela holds on to me tighter and refuses to move.

“Where are you taking her?” I ask.

“Fourth floor.”

My mind is racing. I need to relieve Harley from guard duty; I need to focus more on solving the mystery of the killer. But Steela’s fragile hands are shaking. I said I wouldn’t be the one to let her drown. I can afford enough time to be her buoy a little longer. Besides — I want desperately to know what is behind those locked doors.

“I’ll take her up there,” I offer. I can feel Steela sag with relief at the thought.

“I shouldn’t…”

“I don’t mind.”

“Let me call Doc.” Her hand hovers near her ear-button.

“No, don’t bother. I’ve been up there before. We won’t get lost.”

The nurse seems reluctant, but she nods. She watches us with beady eyes as we approach the elevator. She’s clearly expecting us to make a run for it, but I just push the call button and wait for the elevator.

“We can escape,” I mutter to Steela. “I know some back ways — I can get you out of here with no one noticing.” I’m not even sure why I’m offering. If she needs medical attention, she needs the doctor. It’s just that all of her fire is gone, replaced with fear, and it’s killing me inside.

Steela shakes her head. “I can see myself standing up on that Great Room, pregnant with me daughter, looking at those stars. Can see it, clear as clear. But it can’t have happened, could it? That nurse said lots of us were getting delusional. Maybe it is me age. I reckon I should see the doc.”

The elevator doors slide open. I don’t let go of Steela’s arm until she’s safely inside with me. My finger hovers over the third floor button, hesitating for a moment before it slides up and presses the button for the fourth floor. My stomach drops as we start to rise. We are both silent.

The elevator bobs for a minute, then stills. The light indicates we’re on the fourth floor.

“Stay with me,” Steela whispers as the doors slide open.