“We are in a contained environment,” the doctor says. “This ship must sustain itself. ” His gaze roves from Steela to me. “We need fertilizer. ”
I choke back the bile rising in my throat.
“Take it out!” I scream. I lunge for the IV.
“It’s too late. The drug is already in her system. ”
I rip the needles from Steela’s arm, and I can tell the doctor isn’t lying. A drop of blood falls from the IV needle’s point, nothing else. The bag is empty. Steela’s arm has flopped over the side of the bed, but she doesn’t notice it.
“Amy,” the doctor says coolly, “I tell you this because you need to understand reality aboard this ship. I have seen you question Eldest; I have seen you talking with Elder. You must know the danger of causing trouble, of getting on Eldest’s bad side. The hatch is not the only way Eldest can dispose of you. Eldest is dangerous, Amy, very dangerous, and you’d do best to keep out of his way in the future. ”
He sighs, and for the first time, I wonder if he has sympathy or empathy or any feeling at all for these patients. “I knew when Elder brought you to me that you were being affected by Phydus. Eldest and I are responsible for distributing Phydus to everyone on Godspeed. It’s our duty. However, although I believe that Phydus maintains peace, I do not believe it is best for
everyone. ” He meets my gaze full on. “But if you disrupt this ship, Eldest will order me to take you here, to the fourth floor. And I will put that needle in your vein. And you will at first feel a sense of warmth, and comfort, and joy. ”
His gaze shifts to Steela, and mine follows. A tiny, tiny smile lingers on her wrinkled lips. “When Phydus has calmed your mind, it will calm your body. Your muscles will ease, and you will feel more relaxed than you’ve ever felt before. ”
Steela’s body is sagging against the pillows. The smile slides off her face, not because she seems sad, but because the muscles in her mouth aren’t working to keep her lips curved up.
“Your body will become so calm that eventually your lungs won’t bother breathing, and your heart won’t bother beating. ”
I watch Steela closely, my eyes flicking all over her body. I imagine that her chest is rising and falling, that I can hear ever so softly the beat of her heart.
But it’s all just wishful thinking.
My hands shake as I close her staring eyes.
“It is a merciful death,” the doctor says. “But still, it is death. If Eldest finds you useless—or worse, a nuisance—this is what awaits you. ”
66
ELDER
I CAN HEAR HER SOBBING THROUGH THE DOOR. I RUN MY thumb over the scanner, and the door slides open before I realize what I’ve done—entered a room without permission. But that doesn’t matter now—what matters is Amy lying on her bed, sobbing so hard that her whole body is shaking.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, rushing forward.
Amy looks up at me, her eyes melting jade. She makes a bleating sound and lunges for me, wraps her arms around my waist, and buries her head into my stomach. I can feel the warm wetness of her tears through my tunic.
For a moment, I just stand there. She’s attached to my middle, and I’m not sure what to do with my arms. She gives a little hiccup of a sob, and I act on instinct: I wrap my arms around her, holding her against me, being the strength she needs to stay up.
Eldest thinks power is control, that the best way to be a leader is to force everyone into obedience. Holding Amy against me, I realize the simple truth is that power isn’t control at all—power is strength, and giving that strength to others. A leader isn’t someone who forces others to make him stronger; a leader is someone willing to give his strength to others so that they may have the strength to stand on their own.
This is what I’ve been looking for since the first day I was told that I was born to lead this ship. Leading Godspeed has nothing to do with being better than everyone else, with commanding and forcing and manipulating. Eldest isn’t a leader. He’s a tyrant.
A leader doesn’t make pawns—he makes people.
Amy pulls away and looks into my face. Her pale skin is blotchy red, her eyes are veined and shadowed, and a shiny line of snot trickles from her nose to the top of her lip. She wipes her face with her arm, smearing tears and mucus.
She has never looked more beautiful to me.
“What’s wrong?” I ask again, sitting down beside her on the bed. Amy curls her feet under her and leans her head against my chest. I forget about Phydus, about Eldest, about all the problems on board this frexing ship, as a sudden, primal urge to push her against the bed and kiss her problems away sears through me.
“I found out what happens behind the locked doors on the fourth floor,” Amy says, hiccupping halfway through the sentence. “It’s horrible. ”
She tells me. When she gets to the Phydus, I tell her what I’ve learned from Eldest.
“That’s what happened to me,” she says. “When I felt so slow and fuzzy—it was this drug. The same drug they used on”—she chokes on the name—“Steela. ”