“Yes. ” The word drawls out of my lips, long and low. Half my attention is on the door—is that Orion listening to us, or someone else? And why won’t whoever it is come out of the shadows and talk to us?
“And when the differences that existed between the states were too strong, Lincoln was the one who eliminated the cause of that discord. ”
“I—what?”
“Monoethnicity. The cause of the war was that two races could not live in one country. Lincoln sent the black race back to the continent of Africa, and the war ended. ”
I sputter. “What are you talking about? That’s not what happened!”
Elder taps on the screen, and the picture of Lincoln is replaced with text. He reads the words aloud, a hint of reverence in his voice.
“Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth, upon this continent, a new nation dedicated to the proposition that all men must be equal. Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation can long endure if men are not equal. We are met here on a great battlefield of that war to determine the future of one nation, one people, free of discord, at peace through sameness. Our nation will now discover the strength of unity and uniformity. ”
The text scrolls on. Elder takes a deep breath, about to continue reading.
“Stop. ”
Elder looks at me, surprised.
“That is not the Gettysburg Address,” I say.
“Of course it is. ”
“It’s not. ”
“Then what’s the Gettysburg Address?”
I dig in my brain, trying to remember. “The four score part was the same. But this one is saying things like everyone should be the same—that’s not in there. ”
“Then what does the Gettysburg Address say?”
“Er . . . Four score and seven years ago . . . um . . . Okay, look, I don’t have the thing memorized, but I know enough to know that one’s wrong. ”
Elder looks at me doubtfully, and I realize how weak my argument sounds. Inside, I’m beating myself up: how could I have left Earth without knowing this?
“That’s—this thing is basically racism,” I say. Elder doesn’t seem to know what “racism” is. “The speech you just read—that was all about dividing the races. But that’s not what the Gettysburg Address is about. And besides—look at you. ” I wave my hand at Elder’s tan skin, almond eyes, high cheekbones, dark hair. “You’re like the ultimate in mixed races. ”
Elder looks even more confused now. He has no concept that a race is part of a person’s identity—he just sees it as a difference, a difference that’s better off eliminated.
And I realize: That’s exactly how Eldest wants him to think.
I think I hear laughter, soft chuckling, from near the door, but when I whip around to see, no one’s there. Just Elder, who still doesn’t understand me. And why should he? How can he learn from history if history’s been altered?
I’m the only one who knows, and I don’t know enough to fix it.
Would they even believe me if I tried?
58
ELDER
AMY’S STARING AT THE SCREEN AS UPSET AS SHE WAS BEFORE we got here. This is not going as planned. This was supposed to be the thing that made her happy again. I tap the screen and let Lincoln fade. A picture of people during the German Inflation replaces Lincoln’s creased face, their wheelbarrows of money blending in with his chaotic hair.
“We should go back,” Amy says. “Harley’s been guarding the cryo level long enough. I’ll take a turn. ”
There is so much more here I want to show her: the rooms of books, real books, from Sol-Earth. The artifact room on the second floor, where there are models and Sol-Earth artifacts, including an original tractor that we base our tractors on. The science records room that shows how we developed the wi-com systems and the grav tubes. But she doesn’t want to see any of it, so what’s the point?
“I know that man,” Amy says, awe and wonder in her voice. She pushes me aside so she can see the image on the screen.