Across the Universe

them all in the eyes, trying to hold their stares for as long as possible.

“You tell ’em,” says Harley with another Cheshire grin.

“Where did you come from?” asks the tall man who keeps watching me, smirking.

“Who are you?” I demand, annoyed.

“Luthe.” His voice is low and gravelly.

“Well, quit staring at me like that, Luthe.” I cross my arms over my chest. Luthe’s smirk widens, and his gaze doesn’t leave me.

“Where did you come from?” a woman near Harley asks.

I sigh. There’s no real point in demanding that Luthe not stare at me; they’re all staring at me. “I came from Earth,” I say. “A long time ago.”

There are looks of disbelief — from most of them, actually — but a few glance up with a light in their eyes that makes me know that they, too, are very aware of how their sky is painted metal.

“Will you tell us about it?” Harley asks.

So I sit down in the seat he offers, ignoring how the woman closest to me scoots away. What can I tell them about Earth? How can I describe how the air smells different, how the earth feels richer, how you yourself are different, just from knowing the entire world is at your disposal? Should I start with the mountains always hidden in clouds and snow — or do they even know what those words are: cloud and snow and mountain? I could tell them about the different kinds of rain, pouring rain that’s perfect for when you want to stay inside and watch a movie or read, or piercing rain that feels like needles on your skin, or soft summer rain that makes your first kiss with your first love all the sweeter.

They look at me eagerly, waiting to hear about the planet I called home.

I begin with the sky.

26 ELDER

“THAT FREXING GIRL HAS GONE INTO THE WARD COMMON room and is telling them all about Sol-Earth,” Eldest growls. “Didn’t we tell her about what would happen if she created more of a disturbance? Didn’t we?”

“Now, Eldest,” Doc says in a placating tone. “The Season will begin any day now. They’ll be distracted enough to forget anything she says.”

Eldest punches the nearest cryo chamber door. I jump back, wary of him, unsure of what or who he will strike next.

“Fine,” Eldest says. He turns his burning gaze to me. “The first cause of discord?”

A pop quiz? Now? “Difference,” I say.

“Exactly. Discord will follow that girl everywhere she goes on this ship like dirt a child tracks across the floor. And the second is lack of leadership. Boy, when differences cause discord, the only thing that can maintain control is leadership. Learn from this.”

He jabs his wi-com button. “All-call com link,” he says.

“What are you doing, Eldest?” I ask as a familiar beep, beep-beep fills my ear.

“Attention all residents of Godspeed. I have a very important announcement.”

My stomach drops. Eldest is talking to every resident on the ship through his wi-com link. And I think I know what he’s going to say. My mind races. There’s no way he’d tell everyone on Godspeed about the cryo level, the frozens, where Amy really came from. He would never tell them that.

“Eldest, don’t do this,” I say.

He ignores me.

“Some of you, particularly those of you on the Feeder Level near the Hospital, may notice a new resident on board.”

“Stop.” I lunge at Eldest. I’m sick of his lies.

Doc pulls me back, his long fingers gripping my arms. I try to shake him off, but he’s too strong.

“This new resident is a young female with strangely pale skin and bright hair. She is the result of a Shipper science experiment attempting to develop physical attributes of the body to withstand the possible harsh nature of Centauri-Earth. The girl is harmless, though simple, and prone to lying. She is easily confused and poorly suited to labor; therefore she will remain in the Ward. You are not required nor expected to interact with her at all. She is a freak, and should be treated as such.”

My fists clench. A freak, is she? The result of a crazy Shipper science experiment? Well, that is believable — the Shipper scientists spend most of their time coming up with new things that will protect us in whatever kind of environment Centauri-Earth provides. Still, it’s clear Eldest is trying to cover up Amy’s real origins and keep her away from most people.

I shake with anger as Doc releases me, but there’s no point. Eldest is done. I turn and head back to the elevator, back to Amy.

27 AMY

“WHAT I DON’T UNDERSTAND,” I SAY, “IS WHY YOU’RE ALL HERE.”

“What ya mean?” one of the men says. He has a guitar on his lap, an old acoustic relic.

“Harley said you all were crazy. He said this was a mental hospital.”

“Ah, we’re not crazy,” the guitar player says. His accent is thicker than the others; I can barely understand him.

“We are.” This is the woman who had originally scooted away from me. Harley called her Victria, said she wrote stories. She has an ancient-looking book in her hand — a real book bound in leather, not an electronic thing. I wonder where she got it. “The only thing keeping us close to sane is the mental meds,” Victria adds.

“You might be crazy,” says the guitar player in a joking tone, “but I’m not.”

“You are,” says Harley. “She is. I am. We all are here.”

“But you’re not,” I insist.

“Speak for yourself.”

“No, I mean it! You’re not. You don’t act crazy. None of you do.”

Harley smiles. “I’ll count that as a compliment. After all—” he starts, but then he cocks his head to the left, as if he’s listening to something.

“What?” I ask.

“Shh,” says Victria.

I look around the room. All of them, they’ve all got their heads tilted, each appearing to listen deeply to something.

“An all-call,” the guitar player says under his breath. “Eldest hasn’t done one since our Elder died.”

“Shh!” Victria hisses.

My eyes bounce from person to person. Each one in the psych ward, patient or nurse, is listening intensely.

It’s eerie, the way they’ve all stopped to listen to something I can’t hear. Everyone around me is still and silent, but I jump up and pace around the crowded room, waiting for the spell to break, waiting for everyone else to return to my world.

“Load of shite,” Harley says in an offhand manner. They all start to straighten up, readjust their focus. Whatever they’d been listening to is gone now.