“Override confirmed,” I say, grinning. “Grav tube operations off. ”
The familiar sound of the tube cuts off suddenly. Bartie and I both look up. The statue stands, stationary, for just a moment, then plunges down, twisting in the tube. Some of the acrylic material of the tube breaks as the statue’s edges crash against it. The statue picks up speed as the tube straightens out, nothing but a gray-black blur inside.
BOOM! The statue crashes into the grav tube base and explodes. Gray dust and chunks of chalky concrete fly everywhere, and Bartie and I both duck behind the cart as gravel rains down. Before the air is clear, I jump up, racing to the debris.
Amid the cracked concrete and broken grav tube, I can just make out a shiny silver box. I reach for it, gray dust sticking to the sweat on the back of my hand.
“What is it?” Bartie asks. His voice is low and breathless.
I lift the latch on the box, and the lid creaks open.
Inside is an old vid recorder and AV display, the kind they used before floppies. It’s about the size of both my hands put together and is nearly an inch thick and heavy. Underneath it is a small book bound in brown leather. The pages are yellowed with age, but the writing inside is clear. A formula of some kind and detailed scientific notes.
“I haven’t seen one of these in ages,” Bartie says, picking up the AV display. “I think there are a few old ones in the Recorder Hall. ”
Bartie’s right. No one’s used this tech in a long time. Maybe not since the Plague Eldest.
The recording is labeled, a white note with handwritten information in black ink:
These are the original recordings collected by Captain Albert Davis, the first Eldest of Godspeed, as he established Eldest rule. Additional copies will be passed down to each successive Eldest, and this will be preserved, hidden in the event of mutiny.
Orion must have known two things when he left the clue for me in The Little Prince. First, that copy intended for the Eldests was gone. Second, that the original was kept here—probably another Eldest secret that never made it to my ears. I guess the Plague Eldest figured that if people ever revolted against the Eldest system, they would destroy his statue and discover the truth he hid behind his concrete heart.
I load up the AV display and hold it in my lap so Bartie can see.
A man’s face fills the screen. It’s a face that looks mostly like mine, but lined with age and worry. He’s somewhere between Orion’s age and Eldest’s, maybe fifty or so, but he has a scar on one cheek that makes the left side of his lip hang down in a perpetual frown. His fading hair is peppered with strands of black, and he wears it cut short, but I can trace the angles of his face and know they match my own.
He is the Plague Eldest. The first of us. The original, from which I, Orion, Eldest, and all the others are just cloned copies. He might have “improved” on us over time, adding gen modifiers to our DNA to make us better, stronger, more monoethnic in appearance, more charismatic in personality. But I can still see myself in him.
“I’m afraid,” the Plague Eldest says in a deeper voice than mine, “that this is the end. ”
63: AMY
“—lo?” Elder’s voice crackles over the radio from the auto-shuttle. Chris and I both lunge toward it.
“Hello? Hello?” I say anxiously, my heart sinking as I envision every worst-case-scenario possible.
“Amy, is that you?”
“Yes!” I nearly cry with joy. “Elder, you’re alive! I was so worried. ”
His laugh comes to me from miles away, but it’s still his laugh. “Of course, I’m alive. What did you think happened?”
I can’t even put those fears into words.
“Amy, I have to tell you—” Elder’s voice pauses, and for a heart-stopping moment, I think our communication link has been severed. “I’ve found the last clue,” he says.
I blink, surprised. He doesn’t sound very happy about this. “You did?”
“Yes, and you’re . . . you’re not going to like it. ”
“What is it?” I ask. My mouth is so close to the intercom that I can taste the metal cover of the microphone. Chris moves behind me, and I nearly jump in surprise. Once I heard Elder’s voice, I forgot he was even in the room.
“I think . . . I think I can show it to you. Give me a second. ”
Chris touches the screen on the control panel. “He must have a video he can show us,” he says. “I might be able to help him load it from here. ” He swipes the screen, bringing up a menu.
“Are you okay?” I ask Elder.