A Million Suns

Then I saw the smoke.

Then I could hear, far in the distance — the sound of the ship in revolt.

Elder coms me and at first I’m relieved — at least I know he’s escaping the mob — but he sounds as if he’s running — fleeing — and the com cuts out before I can say anything.

I run straight to the Hospital, to the elevator, to the cryo level.

It is silent here, and cold.

Above me there is rage, and fire, and chaos.

But here: stillness and ice.

I pull my parents out at the same time, relishing in the feel of cold metal on my skin, the ch- thunk sound the cryo chambers make as they settle on their stands.

“Today,” I whisper, “I miss you.”

I know it’s stupid, I know it’s pointless, but there is still within me a tiny part of my mind that believes my parents can fix anything. Even a mutinous ship, even people who are tearing apart the only home they’ve known. Even me, caught in the eye of this storm.

Elder said the ship would be landing soon, a voice whispers to the piece of me that still cries for them.

When the ship lands, they’ll be woken up anyway. Why not wake them up now?

Why not?

Why not?

Why not?

51 ELDER

THE FREX AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH A SHIP IN REVOLT? IF they’d just listen, we could be discussing preparations for planet-landing. Instead, the people seem intent on ripping the ship apart at the seams.

I storm into the irrigation room first.

“Drop the strongest rain program we have,” I order the Shipper on duty, Tearle.

“Elder,” Tearle protests. “That has the potential to cause minor flash floods on the streets.”

“Do it,” I order.

“How long should the rain be?” He sounds reluctant, but he moves over to the water controls regardless.

“I’ll tell you when to stop it.”

I go across the hall to the solar lamp operations. The solar lamp is automated, but the level of heat is regulated by one Shipper, a mousy woman who looks as if she’d be more comfortable on one of the farms. Her name is Larin.

I take out a floppy and pull up the security vid feeds from around the City. The vids show the Food Distro — the rain is flooding it, and the fire is already turning into smoldering ruins. I swipe my hand across the screen to vids of the farms, the Greenhouses, the main street of the City. People are fighting and screaming through the rain. Although there’s no sound on these vids, I don’t need it. I know what a rebellion sounds like.

“I want you to cover the solar lamp,” I tell Larin. She’s been watching me, worried, waiting for my command.

“It’s the middle of the day, Elder!” She looks at me as if I’m crazy.

I suppose I am. The solar lamp is never cut off, but a heavy metal screen covers it during the ship’s version of night. It’s all scheduled, so dark time lasts exactly eight hours and only happens when it’s the proper time. Not now.

“Cover the lamp,” I order again.

“But—”

“Cover it.”

She stands up and crosses the small room to the control panel. Larin’s fingers hover over a switch. She mutters something.

“What was that?” I demand.

“Maybe Bartie is right,” she says clearly.

I stride across the room and slam my hand against the switch. Beneath us, the Feeder Level is plunged into darkness. But here we’re not. I lean in close to Larin’s face. If Marae were here — frex, if Eldest were here…

She stares back defiantly.

Then looks away.

“Uncover the lamp,” I order.

Her hand shoots forward, flicking the lamp back on. She stares back at me, hoping that I’m about to leave. But I don’t. Instead, I wait another minute.

On the floppy, the vids show the people staring at the sky, trying to peer through the torrential downpour to see the solar lamp. It has never gone dark other than at scheduled nighttime. At least I’ve shocked them enough to stop the fighting.

“Cover the lamp again,” I say.

She hesitates, but doesn’t protest this time.

I watch the screens black out once more.

And I push my wi-com and do an all-call. “Attention, all residents of Godspeed. Everyone on board the ship — every single person — is to report to the Keeper Level Great Room this evening at dark time.”

“Bring back the lamp,” I tell the Shipper when I disconnect the wi-com.

She flips the switch immediately, but she doesn’t take her eyes off me.

I press my wi-com button one more time. It won’t take Bartie long to come up with his own sort of all-call, something about how I have no right ordering everyone to come to me or something like that.

“Wi-com, Eldest override,” I say. “Authorization code: 00G. Disable all communication; exception: Eldest device.”

I turn around and leave the solar lamp room, order Tearle to stop the rain, and then head down the hall. Now Bartie can’t com anyone. None of them can but me. At least Amy’s safely locked in her room.

As I cross the Shipper Level, I can feel them all watching me. The Shippers stop their work until I pass, eyes following me down the hall.

Before, I would have felt that their eyes contained questions and doubt, and that would have made me crumble.

But now, I don’t care. I’m taking the authority that should have been mine from the start.

For the first time in my life, I feel as if I am truly Eldest.

•••

Shelby and the first-level Shippers are waiting for me at the Bridge. I stride straight to them and lock the door behind me.

“What have the scans shown?” I demand. If it’s going to take a planet-landing to stop this shite from Bartie and his so-called revolution, I’ll land the frexing ship. But I won’t do it unless I know the ship can make it.

While Shelby brings up the scans on a floppy, I seethe. It’s irrational, but I can’t help but blame Orion for some of this. Maybe there really is something in his frexing clues that would get us to the planet easier, but the man was so loons he hid the information.

Shelby hands me the floppy. “All the scans indicate that the planet’s environment is habitable. The planet has water, breathable air, vegetation… There’s nothing to indicate that we can’t land,” she says.

There’s a catch in her voice.