A Million Suns: An Across the Universe Novel
I sit up straighter, staring at the handwritten annotations. They’re all about something hidden and forgotten. And tube? The only tube I know is the grav tube, and nothing could be further from a Shakespearean sonnet than a futuristic device that sucks people up to different levels of a spaceship.
I trace my finger over the weird lines near the bottom of the poem. They almost look like stairs.
My eyes widen. Stairs. Like the staircase Orion has been sitting on in every video he left for me!
The grav tube was invented on the ship after the launch, which means that there had to be some way for the first generations on Godspeed to go between the levels. Like a staircase . . . a hidden staircase that everyone has since forgotten because of the grav tube! I scan the lines of the poem Orion underlined—hid and vanish’d sight must mean that these stairs are very well hidden. In the videos, the stairs are always dark. Orion felt safe there, even from Eldest, who didn’t know about them.
But . . . where are they?
43
ELDER
MY MIND WHIRLS AS THE WIND IN THE GRAV TUBE BEATS against my skull as I fly up to the Shipper Level. Amy has never kissed me like that before, has never looked at me that way.
I want to replay what just happened over and over in my mind, but when I reach the Bridge and see Second Shipper Shelby’s solemn face, I force myself to forget about everything else but Marae.
“We found her in here,” she says, moving to open the door. Although the Engine Room is crowded and the Shippers appear to be working, all eyes are on Shelby and me as we enter the Bridge, our footsteps echoing across the metal floor. The only light comes from a lamp near Marae’s still hand.
I look away—I don’t want to face the fact of her dead body yet. My eyes drift to the metal ceiling, high and rounded. On the other side of the steel plates is a planet. Marae had no idea how close she was. And it was always just right there.
She lies sprawled across the table, her body dripping off the chair. Her eyes are open and empty, staring at nothing. Floppies with diagrams and charts flash under her face; a printed schematic of the engine lies crushed under one arm.
At the base of her neck, just under her shortly cropped hair, are three pale green med patches. One word in black ink on each patch.
Follow.
The.
Leader.
“This doesn’t make sense,” I whisper. If someone’s killing people who disobey me, why kill Marae? She’s been my staunchest supporter from the start. She’s unswervingly faithful, and she’s led the rest of the Shippers in that attitude as well. She jumped at the chance to lead my police force. If Doc was Eldest’s greatest adviser, Marae was mine.
“Who did this to you?” I whisper, but of course she’s not going to tell me. But it has to be someone of high rank, doesn’t it? Someone who either has access to the Bridge or who knows Marae well enough that she’d be persuaded to open the door. Besides the Shippers, a few of the scientists, Doc and Kit, technicians, even Fridrick, as foreman of food distribution, could also come to this level. And with the med patches stolen, any of them could have done this.
Shelby makes a small noise behind me. She’s staring resolutely at the ceiling of the Bridge, her jaw tight.
I want to say something to comfort her, but all that comes out is, “You’re First Shipper now. ” She nods once. She will not dishonor Marae by showing weakness. She will make a fine First Shipper.
The ceiling of the Bridge is domed, much like the ceiling in the cryo level and the Great Room on the Keeper Level. When I was outside—I smile a secret smile, when I was outside—it had looked as if there were glass windows over the Bridg
e. Well—not glass, surely. Glass is too fragile for the ship’s entry into the atmosphere or other dangers of space—asteroids, comets, meteors. But some other clear, strong material, maybe a thick polycarbonate, would work. Something that sparkled, reflecting the light of the planet, shining from the dual suns.
But this roof is metal.
Just like the roof on the Keeper Level. Eldest hid the false stars under a metal roof there . . . one with panels and hinges, just like this one . . . with hydraulic controls on the sides. . . . My eyes trail all the way down to the wall, to the switch near the door that’s controlled by a biometric scanner. I grind my teeth. I don’t know why I’m surprised that secrets have been hidden here too, just like the rest of the ship.
And I am frexing sick of secrets and lies. It’s one thing to not tell everyone that the ship’s engine is dead—it would have been the end of all hope—but the planet changes everything.
“Lock the Bridge door,” I order Shelby.
She hesitates a fraction of a second, then turns and silently pulls the heavy metal door closed.
“Lock it,” I repeat.
“These are above standard lockdown-grade seals,” Shelby says. “They completely seal the Bridge from the rest of the ship. ”