As They Slip Away (Across the Universe 2.50)

Or even noticed.

“In Greece,” Orion continues as if nothing’s different, “the best weaver in their history was a woman named Arachne. She was so good that the gods were jealous, and they turned her into a spider so she could only weave webs. ” My eyes drift down Orion’s neck, to the spiderweb scar behind his left ear. He notices my glance and touches the scar before catching himself and lowering his hand.

“And what?” Bartie asks. “You want us to write a report on her, or whatever god matches our skills?”

“ No, ” Orion says eagerly. “I want you to create. If, for example, you chose Arachne, then I want you to weave her story into a tapestry. ”

I can see the moment when understanding washes over each of our faces—he wants us to make art. A sloppy grin spreads over Harley’s face. Luthor mutters to himself, as if coming up with ideas of what he’d like to do already. Even Victria looks ecstatic.

Godspeed isn’t Greece: No matter what Orion says, it doesn’t feel as if art is very much valued here. Doc has had us re

search art, sure, but never really experiment with it. He was much more focused on what our art could do for the ship, how we could turn it into something useful.

I catch Bartie’s eye. Doc has never been able to give us assignments that use our talents. He could have Luthor make scale models out of clay instead of sculpting, or Harley can draw architectural plans instead of painting, but there wasn’t much he could do with Bartie’s skill with instruments or my singing voice.

“Your assignment,” Orion repeats, “is to research art . . . and then make some. ”

It is a delicious challenge.

4.

“This is brilly,” Harley says as we sit in a circle on the floor in the entryway of the Recorder Hall. We each have our own personal floppies, each flashing with images from ancient Greece. Orion ventured further into the Recorder Hall with promises to show us real books from Sol-Earth. “I know! ” Kayleigh says. She’s so excited she’s forgotten that she wants to be aloof in front of Harley. “I can’t believe he’s encouraging us to do art! ”

Harley lights up at the joy in Kayleigh’s voice. “What are you going to research?” he asks, leaning closer to Kayleigh while she lets him. “I think you could be Poseidon. ” He holds his floppy out to her.

Kayleigh scans the information on this Greek “god. ” It seems ridiculous that the Greeks actually worshipped these people, thinking they had any kind of real power. Silly Sol-Earth fairytales and religions.

“Ew,” Kayleigh tosses the floppy back to Harley. “This man is half-naked. ”

Harley laughs. “Yeah, but he’s the god of the ocean, and you love to swim. ”

“ Maybe you should study Aphrodite,” Kayleigh says in a sticky-sweet voice, “and dress up in some seashells. ”

“I ’m not a flirt,” Harley says so seriously that the entire room silences. “Not with anyone but you. ”

Kayleigh blushes furiously and gets up to sit on the other side of Victria, putting me beside Harley instead.

Harley doesn’t seem to mind. Maybe he’s confident; maybe he just doesn’t see a point in pretending to have any other feelings than those he holds for Kayleigh. He turns to me next, as if nothing’s happened. “What about you? You could be a Siren. ”

I tap the word into my floppy and am greeted with an image of something that looks like a cross between a girl and a fish. “This looks more like something Kayleigh would like,” I say. She is the one who spends every morning swimming in the pond behind the Hospital.

“ No, read,” Harley insists.

I start reading, the sounds of everyone else’s gentle arguments disappearing as I focus on the story. I see now why Harley thought this particular mythological creature suited me: the Sirens sing too. My fingers trail along a portrait of a Siren perched on a rock, a stringed instrument in one hand as she stares impassively at the boy drowning in the water below her.

Yes. I like these Sirens.

By the time I look up, Orion’s returned with the books. Harley flips through the pages too quickly, careless with the ancient paper made from real trees from Sol-Earth. We don’t have trees on Godspeed, and we hardly ever use the synthetic paper made by the Shippers—everything’s recorded on floppies instead. Orion scowls at Harley until he sets the book gently down on the ground.

“ Have you selected your topic?” Luthor asks.

I nod and hold out the floppy to him. He smiles as he reads about the creatures that sing to lure men’s ships to dangerous waters and sure death.

Harley glances up as Bartie leans over to read too. “ Ha! Your voice could make men suicidal! ” He crows with laughter, but I snatch the floppy out of his hands and read about the Greek that he selected. I know he didn’t mean the words to sting, but they do.

“ Your music is so bad Hades would keep you in the underworld to save us all from having to hear it! ” I try to keep my voice light like his, turning the words into a harmless joke among friends. Nothing more than friends.

“It is not! ” Bartie snatches the floppy away. “Orpheus was the greatest musician of all time. ”