A Million Suns (Across the Universe 2)

“It’s beautiful,” Amy breathes. I suppose she’s right, but when I see it, I only remember the way it really happened, not the way Harley painted it.

The painting is vividly bright, even though in my memory everything was dark: the water, the mud, her eyes. Five figures stand at the top of the painting, looking down into the pond—me, Harley, Victria, Bartie, and, behind us, Orion. Harley had used some sort of reflective paint on the surface of the pond—but just beneath the mirror-like surface of the water, a girl swims, floating on her back, her laughing eyes peering up toward the surface. Koi swirl around her fingers, and a lotus plant’s roots tangle in her loose, thick black hair.

“He really liked koi,” Amy says.

“They were Kayleigh’s favorite. ”

I can taste the murky pond water. I can feel the clamminess of Kayleigh’s skin. I can see the bloated way her face squished under Harley’s touch.

“Let’s look for the clue,” Amy says gently, pulling me away from the edge of the pond. “It’s probably on the back, like the other one. ”

I lift the canvas up to the light, then flip it over.

“Look,” Amy says.

A rectangle is sketched in light ink on the back and, in the center of it, another tiny mem card. I pry it off with my fingernail. Another message is written on the back of the painting in the same faint handwriting as the first clue:

1, 2, 3, 4. Add it up to unlock the door.

“Does he mean the door on the fourth floor of the Hospital? The one that leads to the elevator that goes down to the cryo level?” I ask.

“I don’t think so. He told you about that door; he knows I’ve seen what’s behind it. If he left these clues for me to find, then he must mean one of the other locked doors. ”

“There aren’t any—” I start, but I stop abruptly. There are few locked doors on the ship—and fewer doors still that my biometric scan can’t break through. But there is one area that is full of locked doors, doors locked with a keypad whose code even Eldest didn’t know.

“The doors on the cryo level,” I say. “The ones near the hatch. ”

Amy nods. “It has to be. ”

“Still got that vid screen with you?” I ask. Amy pulls it out of her pocket, and I snap the mem card into it. Amy runs her finger on the ID box on the screen. The screen comes alive with Orion’s face. After hesitating a moment, Amy leans in closer to me, close enough to see the screen, but not so close that she touches me.

Orion is barely visible, hidden in shadow. He sits on the fourth step of a large staircase extending out of view behind him. His right hand taps against his knee in a jittery, almost nervous way.

“Where is that?” Amy asks.

I shake my head, intent on the video.

The camera wobbles as Orion adjusts the image. He speaks softly, almost kindly.

ORION: First, I want to say I’m sorry about Kayleigh. I never meant for her to die.

“He killed her?” Amy gasps.

I say nothing, but a heavy stone sinks in my stomach.

ORION: I didn’t kill her. But I might as well have. She figured it out. Eldest’s biggest secret. The one he doesn’t want anyone to know.

“What could that be—”

“Shh. ”

Orion pauses, swallowing hard as if overcome with emotion.

ORION: Amy, you should know this—if you decide to keep looking—Kayleigh’s murder was a warning. Eldest may have killed Kayleigh, but there are things I can do. Locks I can change. Fool that he is—he hasn’t thought to check them.

Orion stops abruptly. His eyes lose focus.

ORION: I don’t know what’s right or wrong anymore. Not since Kayleigh died. I don’t know if what she knew was something the whole ship should know. I don’t know if she should have found the truth.