Dad starts pacing—a habit that I picked up from him. “Those people,” he says, “they all look the same, and they have some kid as their leader, and there are fewer of them than we expected by this time. ” He reminds me of a caged animal, turning sharply at each wall and stomping to the next. “And if the probe records are right, the journey here didn’t take three hundred years . . . the probe indicates that more than half a millennia has passed. ”
So that’s how long Godspeed orbited the planet under the tyrannical rule of the Eldest system: two hundred extra years. Six, maybe seven or eight Eldests? And one Elder who refused.
“What happened in those five centuries?” Dad continues, but he’s talking more to himself than to me. “What have they done to themselves? Obviously some sort of genetic modification. But their societal rules have changed over time too . . . ”
“They have been playing with genetic modifiers,” I say. Dad’s attention zeros in on me; he’s listening to me with an intensity I’ve never seen from him before. “I mean, they did something to make themselves monoethnic, obviously, but I know that the babies are injected with gen mod material before they’re born. ” Dad doesn’t say anything—his rapt attention is making me a little nervous, a little babbly. “I was told that it was to prevent problems. They took out race as a source of conflict—and religion, and anything else that would make them disagree or fight. ”
Dad’s look turns contemplative. “You sound like one of them,” he says finally.
“Excuse me?”
“Listen to how you said that,” he says. “‘Excuse me. ’” He throws the words at me accusingly. “You have an accent now. ”
“I do not!”
He looks at me full-on. “You do. ”
I scowl. I don’t even know why it matters. Maybe I do sound like them. Who cares?
“What else can you tell me?” Dad stares at me. “What have you learned while you were awake?”
I learned that life is so, so fragile. I learned that you can know someone for just days and never forget the impression he left on you. I learned that art can be beautiful and sad at the same time. I learned that if someone loves you, he’ll wait for you to love him back. I learned that how much you want something doesn’t determine whether you get it or not, that “no” might not be enough, that life isn’t fair, that my parents can’t save me, that maybe no one can.
“Nothing much,” I mutter.
“Come on, now. ” Dad pauses, facing me. “Any detail, no matter how small, might help me to understand these shipborns. ”
I don’t like the way he calls them “shipborns,” as if by being born on the ship, they’re somehow less human than the people born on Earth.
“What you really want to know,” I say, “is how to make sure we all don’t just rip each other apart, right?” The fight earlier is way too fresh in our minds. We are a powder keg; just a spark will blow us apart.
Dad nods, waiting for me to continue.
“Let us go outside,” I say in a rush, my voice already pleading. “Let everyone see the planet. Let them know what’s beyond the walls. These people—they’ve never had anything but a steel cage. If you open the door, if you let them see the world, they will love it, and they will do whatever it takes to make this mission work. They’ll do whatever it takes to build themselves a new home. ”
“It’s not safe—” Dad starts, but I cut him off.
“The most dangerous thing you can do right now is keep that door locked. Open it, or they’ll tear through the walls themselves. ”
Dad sends people out in groups of a hundred or so, with one armed military person for every ten people. As he organizes the groups, I shoot Elder a triumphant smile. Elder looks away, scowling.
“What’s your problem?” I ask him in a low voice as Dad starts organizing the first groups to leave.
“Nothing. ” Elder doesn’t meet my eyes.
“No,” I say, so forcefully that Elder turns to look at me in surprise. “You don’t get to sulk and just not tell me what’s wrong. What’s bothering you?”
“Doesn’t it seem a bit . . . manipulative?” he asks.
“What does?”
Elder glances at the doorway, where Dad stands, giving orders to the military personnel standing at attention in front of him.
“Dad?” I ask incredulously. “You think he’s manipulating everyone?”
“It’s something Eldest would do,” Elder says, again avoiding my eyes. “Give the people something big to distract them from what’s really important. ”
“And just what do you think Dad’s trying to distract everyone from? The planet? Because that’s exactly what he’s giving them. And that was my idea, not his. ”