Across the Universe

soon as I think that, I feel again, I feel everything, and I can’t see, I can’t breathe, but I do feel.

And what I feel is rage.

I think for a moment—I was wrong: it would be better to not feel than to feel this—and then I

quit

thinking.

I scream something, but even I can’t distinguish what words spit from my mouth. I’m standing now — I don’t remember standing, but I’m standing. And I lunge for him. I want to hurt him — I don’t care how — as long as I can cause some sort of pain, maybe that will be enough. I get in one good, solid hit, and I know that I’ve surprised him more than hurt him, despite the fact that there’s already a red mark on his cheekbone under his eye. My fingers are curled claws, but he grabs my wrists before I can attack again, and he holds me back. I kick, but my short legs can’t outdistance his long arms, and I do the only thing left for me to do. All the rage tears from my throat.

???I’m sorry,” Elder pleads.

Sorry? Sorry? Sorry isn’t enough. Every. Single. Thing. I ever loved is beyond my reach now. Everything I ever wanted. Everything I ever was.

“I could have died!” I shout. “I almost did die!”

“I didn’t know”—he trips over his words—“that — I mean — frex! I didn’t know you’d be — and—”

I want to ask why. Except — there is no why. I can see it in his face. He didn’t mean to hurt me. To take away my only chance to be with my parents. To trap me in a metal cage.

To kill me as effectively as I am dead on Earth.

He just did it.

There is no why, just like there is no going back.

“But I had to tell you the truth.”

That stops me.

Something inside me snaps into place, painfully. The truth grinds against my bones.

Daddy lied to me when he said coming or not was my choice. He made the choice. The empty trunk in the cryo chamber is proof enough of that.

Jason let me believe what I wanted to believe.

This whole ship has been held together with metal and lies, everyone either deceived or a deceiver.

Except for Elder.

80 ELDER

AMY’S FACE IS STONE, AND I CANNOT SEE ANY CRACKS IN IT. It’s not been this immovable since she was frozen.

My hands clench compulsively in my pockets. The wires from the Phydus machine poke my fingers. Amy expected me to throw them away, I know she did… but I can’t. Their weight in my pocket is the weight of another lie. But I can’t shake that nagging voice in my head, the one that asks: Can you rule without Phydus?

I’m afraid the answer is no.

I should tell her. I should produce the wires like another confession.

But it would just drive her further away.

“When I did it… when I unplugged you…” My voice cracks, something that hasn’t happened since I was fourteen. “I didn’t know Doc couldn’t put you back. I thought I could wake you up, and that maybe we could meet, could talk, and then after you told me about Sol-Earth, I’d be ready to let you go and be frozen again. I didn’t know you couldn’t go back. I didn’t know that I would almost kill you.”

I’ve spoken all of this in a rush, but now my words peter out until they are almost nothing.

Amy doesn’t say anything.

I touch my cheekbone tenderly, pushing at the place where she hit me. It will bruise. If she’d aimed higher, I would have a black eye.

“I’m really sorry, you know,” I say.

Amy stares ahead of her. I can’t tell if she’s staring at the metal that traps her inside the ship or the glass that shows her the universe outside it.

“I know,” she says.

It’s not much of an invitation, but it’s the only one I’ve got. I lean against the wall beside her. A rivet digs into my back, but I don’t care. This may be the closest I’ll ever be to her again.

Amy doesn’t move away. That’s something, I guess.

“I just wanted to meet you. I didn’t know I’d ruin your whole life.”

Silence.

Amy doesn’t look up.

AMY

THERE’S A SMUDGE OF PAINT — RED — AT THE EDGE OF THE hatch door. Harley’s last mark.

Past the paint, past the bubble window, I stare at the stars. It looks like a lonely, cold place out there. I put my hands on either side of the window. It’s a lonely, cold place in here, too.

“I don’t want to be alone,” I whisper, and it’s not until the words are out there that I realize how true they are.

I sense more than see the tiniest movement of Elder behind me. He steps forward, hesitates, then reaches for my hand. I pull away.

Like Harley.

I stare resolutely ahead at the stars. I wonder if he would still be here if only he’d reached toward us, instead of toward them.

I shut my eyes and take a deep breath, but all I smell is metal. The life I’d once known is forever gone. My air will never smell of summer or spring, real rain or snow.

I open my eyes and see the last thing Harley saw before he left us. Maybe the secret of the stars has nothing to do with being alone.

I reach behind me, and Elder is there. Like he always has been. He grabs my hand, but I shake loose.

I’m not ready for that.

But… if my life on Earth must end, let it end with a promise.

Let it end with hope.

I wrap my pinkie around his. He squeezes my finger, and this world doesn’t feel so cold anymore.