A Million Suns (Across the Universe 2)

“Um . . . Is that wise?”

“What?” I follow her gaze. “The robe? Eldest wore it. ”

“Yes, but . . . ”

“What did you need me for?”

“I think everyone’s here now, sir,” she says, squaring her shoulders.

For a moment, the robe seems to swallow me. I force my spine straighter and head to the door. It zips open.

A wave of silence washes over the entire crowd—those standing nearest the door cease talking immediately, then those behind them follow suit. And it is a crowd. I’d never realized how big over two thousand people looked when they were all looking at you.

Their eyes all follow me as I cross the short distance to the dais the Shippers have set up for me.

“You chutz!” a voice bellows across the crowded room.

The people in the room seem to move as one to make a path—and marching through that path is Bartie.

“What right do you have to wear that robe?” he shouts. His face is red, even the tips of his ears.

“I’m—” I stop. I can’t say I’m Eldest—I never claimed that title. And the robe is for an Eldest only.

In the end, it doesn’t matter that I didn’t have anything witty to say to Bartie, because once he gets close enough to me, he knocks me aside so forcefully that I stagger back against the wall.

“The frex?” I say, but my words are drowned out by Bartie’s voice.

“Are we going to put up with this?” Bartie roars, turning to the crowd. “How can this child dare call us all together and parade in Eldest’s robe? He’s no Eldest—he’s no leader!”

And they cheer him.

Not all of them, certainly, but enough. Enough to make the sound of their support swirl inside my brain, soaking into my memory like water into a sponge.

“We deserve a new leader. One chosen by us!”

I grab Bartie by the elbow and spin him back around to face me. “What the frex do you think you’re doing?”

“Your job,” he sneers.

“I can do it myself!” I shout back.

“Oh, really?” He pushes me, hard, and I stumble back into the wall. Bartie’s talking in a quieter voice now—and everyone is listening to him. He’s evoked a truer silence than I did. When they quit talking for me, that’s all they did, but now they’re not just quiet, they’re listening to him. Listening to his every word. “What have you done since Eldest died? Nothing. ”

“I took you all off Phydus!”

“Not everyone wanted to be off Phydus! What did you do for them? Let them huddle in their homes, scared. Let them die in the streets. Did you even notice how many of us aren’t here? Have you noticed how many people don’t work? How many have broken down, are scared, are alone? Do you even care?”

“Of course I care!”

Bartie takes a step back, looking me up and down, measuring me. “You can’t be Eldest if you’re still Elder,” he says finally in a voice calm and quiet, but still loud enough for everyone to hear. “And,” he adds in a voice so low only I can hear, “you can’t be Eldest if you care for Amy more than Godspeed. ”

I don’t know if it’s because of his sneer or because a part of me is afraid he’s right, but I rear back and slam my fist against his face with all the force I have in me.

Bartie looks shocked for a second, but then he recovers and throws an uppercut that catches me under my chin. My head jerks back so hard my neck pops, and my teeth snap over my tongue. I taste blood inside my mouth, and droplets of dark red stain the top of the Eldest Robe.

The entire crowd surges forward, and the silence they held before is broken. A chant erupts near Bartie and me as his closest supporters shout, “Lead yourselves! Lead yourselves!” Shelby’s voice screams out over the chanting, directing orders to the other Shippers. I move to help her, but Bartie nails me in the stomach. I double over as Shelby jumps into the fight to defend me. Unfortunately, it doesn’t do much good. As she’s blocking Bartie, one of his lackeys rushes forward and slams me against the wall. My elbow cracks against the metal, and I hiss in pain as I draw my leg up and knee him in the stomach.

I race to the dais and leap over the small step.