A Million Suns (Across the Universe 2)

I race out of the armory, straight to the elevator.

I’ve got to get to the Shipper Level. Now. I’ve got to get to Elder. If I’m sure of anything, it’s that whoever’s telling us to “follow the leader” doesn’t mean Elder—and those explosives are going to wipe out anyone who tries to land the ship.

57

ELDER

ALTHOUGH IT IS BARELY TIME FOR THE SOLAR LAMP TO TURN on, the Shipper Level is crowded. I look around, half-expecting to see Amy’s bright red hair peeking out through the throng of Shippers, but no, she’s not here. Of course she’s not. Even if she’s the one I want to share this with the most, it’s loons of me to think of her now, when I need to focus on planet-landing. I haven’t seen her since I almost died—and so much has changed since then. Amy was the first person I told about Centauri-Earth, but she may very well be the last person I see once we land.

I shake my head to clear my mind. This isn’t the time to get sentimental; it’s time to land the ship.

The Shippers cheer as I walk down the corridor toward the Bridge, my feet clanging against the metal grate floor. They reach for me—to shake my hand, to slap me on the back, to just touch me in awe and thanks. When I push through the Energy Room into the Engine Room, the scientists and Shippers give me a standing ovation.

I beam at them.

It’s everything I dreamed it would be.

First Shipper Shelby and the rest of her cadre stand in a line in front of the giant decorated doors that lead to the Bridge. They all salute me when I approach.

“I—uh,” I say, and it’s not until I’m uh-ing that I realize the room is completely silent and they now all want me to make a speech. A speech that consists of more than “uh. ”

Frex.

“I—uh—I mean . . . ” I swallow, shut my eyes.

“This is not our home,” I say. “We have lived on Godspeed all our lives, but it is not our home. We didn’t choose to be born on a ship, trapped by the walls that keep us safe. But we do choose to be the ones who decide it is time to land. We choose to take the risk, to leave behind this shell, and to see what the rest of the universe has to offer.

“We choose our future. Let’s go home. ”

“Home!” Shelby booms, and everyone repeats her word and cheers.

And then it’s time.

Shelby opens the huge doors. She stands to the side, letting her crew—the remaining first-level Shippers—go first. There’s an air of ominous gravity to the whole production; we’re making history, and we’re all aware of it.

I watch them enter the Bridge solemnly, and it feels so wrong that Amy’s not among them. I knew when I first saw her, frozen, that she would change me forever. But she’s changed the whole ship too, the fate of everyone on board.

As the last Shipper enters the Bridge, Shelby turns to me, and she smiles, and I step forward.

“Sir!”

I turn. One of the Shippers runs up to me. “Sir,” he says, “the girl, the red-haired girl—she’s here. ”

“Amy?”

He nods. “She’s beating on the Energy Room door, yelling for you. ”

“Elder?” Shelby asks, her hand on the Bridge door.

I step back, away from the Bridge and toward the Energy Room door.

And then—

—an explosion rips open the ship.

It feels as if my eardrums have burst, and I lose my footing, crashing to the ground. My head cracks against the solid metal floor, but I’m moving—sliding toward what remains of the Bridge. Someone screams, and the sound is violently cut off. I twist around, and a chair soars across the room, the leg of it skidding across my shoulder, ripping my tunic and the skin underneath. There’s shouting all around, but the sound is drowned out by the ringing metal crashes as tables and desks fly up from the ground. A stab of pain shoots up my leg—a screwdriver is embedded in my calf. I reach down and yank it out, but I’m still sliding across the floor.

I lift my head as high as I can—