A Million Suns (Across the Universe 2)

He nods again. I can’t tell if he doubts me or not. Does he blame me for Victria’s death?

“How bad is it?” he finally asks, jerking his head toward my arm.

“Are you hurt too?” Kit says, looking up from Doc as she sprays foam on his wound. The foam bubbles up and turns pink as it disinfects the wound. Kit starts to wrap Doc’s leg in a large bandage.

“I’ll be fine,” I say.

“She’s shot,” Elder says. “In the arm. ”

He takes the other yellow patch from me and moves over to Bartie. Bartie’s eyes are glued on Victria’s body the whole time as he shifts from drugged to aware, and once the Phydus has truly left his system, he tries to say something but chokes on the words. He lunges toward Victria, but Elder catches him, and the two stand there, their arms wrapped around each other, all rivalry forgotten in the death of one of their last childhood friends.

“Here,” Kit says.

I jump, surprised—I hadn’t noticed that she’d finished with Doc. Kit cuts away the sleeve of my tunic and cleans the wound with the disinfecting foam.

“Is it bad?” Elder asks as he and Bartie break away.

Kit rips open a pale purple patch.

“No,” I say immediately.

“It’s for pain. ”

“No patches. ”

She shrugs and starts to wrap my arm. The bleeding hasn’t quite stopped, but it’s slower—I probably won’t even need stitches. It’s Victria who got the full force of the bullet.

“Come on,” Elder says to Bartie.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“We’re sending Victria to the stars,” Bartie says.

“Let me help. ” Kit tugs the bandage around my arm, tight, and I hiss in pain.

Bartie holds Victria by the shoulders, and Elder stoops to pick up her feet. “We can do this alone, Amy. ” Elder’s voice is kind, and his eyes beg me to understand. Bartie and Elder need to say goodbye together. They need to remember Victria the way she was before Orion was frozen, and she drowned in her love for him. Before I was unfrozen.

The two men silently carry their friend’s body out the door, toward the hatch, leaving only a bloodstain behind.

69

ELDER

BARTIE SLAMS THE HATCH DOOR SHUT, AND I PUNCH IN THE code. We both stand at the window and watch as we send our last childhood friend to the stars.

Through the bubble glass window, we see Victria’s body fly up. The pull of the vacuum makes her rise and float backward, her face obscured by her black hair, her arms and legs reaching to me even as they are pulled farther and farther away.

And then she’s gone.

Kit approaches us as the hatch door closes. Doc—with the green patch still on his arm—limps beside her. Kit tries to use her weight to support Doc, but he’s much bigger than she is.

“Let me help,” Bartie says, taking Kit’s place under Doc’s arm. His voice is gravelly with unshed tears. When I meet his eyes, I know—what’s happened in the last three months cannot overshadow what’s happened in the last thirty minutes. We’re friends again.

“Make sure that patch stays on,” I say, and Bartie nods.

Kit and Bartie take Doc toward the hatch. I think about giving them a hand—it’s going to be hard getting him up the ladder—but I don’t want to help Doc. I don’t ever want to see Doc again.

I go back to the gen lab. Amy, her arm swaddled in bandages, stands in front of Orion’s frozen face.