When I get back to the top, I search through the crowd that’s gathered around Elder at the Recorder Hall to tell him what I found. He’s surrounded by people, and I don’t bother being polite — I shove them out of my way, ignoring their angry cries, then I pull Elder by the arm until we’re far enough away that no one else can overhear us.
“I can’t get to the cryo level,” I say. I describe what I saw between the levels.
He nods as if he expected it. His eyes are dead and empty. Elder gave up hope on the Bridge, but I didn’t give it up until I could see no more in him.
61 ELDER
THE HOSPITAL’S NO LONGER SAFE, SO WE SET UP THE RECORDER Hall as a temporary infirmary. Doc, who’d been close to the elevator when it exploded, has his left arm in a sling and a deep gash on his cheek, under his eye. Still, he moves from person to person, quickly assigning pills and med patches and bandages. More often than not, he slips the patients a pale green patch. I pretend not to notice.
In truth, I sort of want one myself.
Kit and the nurses bring the Shippers who survived the Bridge explosion, and another panicked wave of activity follows their arrival — bandages here, stitches there, all wrapped up with a bright green patch on top.
There aren’t that many injuries. Not on the outside, at least. But I can see a spark of desperation in people’s eyes as they slowly become aware of the fact that the explosions did not just kill nine more of our people: they also killed any hope we had of planet-landing.
Later that afternoon, maintenance crews inspect the Hospital. Just as Amy told me, the elevator — the one that goes all the way to the cryo level — was destroyed. The cables broke and the elevator itself crashed at the bottom of the shaft, but that was the extent of the damage.
Once things settle down, I do an all-call, requesting that everyone meet in the garden behind the Hospital. Eldest would have ordered another ship-wide meeting on the Keeper Level, but I know the last thing people want is to be away from the familiarity of the Feeder Level, especially if it brings them closer to the now-destroyed Bridge. The statue of the Plague Eldest is traditional for the changing ceremonies from Elder to Eldest, and it seems appropriate, given what I plan on saying.
“Hey, wait up!” Bartie calls as I make my way from the Recorder Hall to the garden. I don’t answer him, but I do slow my pace.
“Is it true?” Bartie asks when he catches up to me. “The Shippers in the Recorder Hall are saying the Bridge is gone.”
“Yeah,” I grunt.
“Are you going to tell them?” Bartie continues, matching my quick pace so he can walk beside me. “I think you should tell everyone about the Bridge. About how we can’t leave now.”
“Shite, Bartie, you think so?” I don’t bother quelling the sarcasm in my voice. “Here I was just thinking I’d take a nice little break and then maybe get a bite to eat; stars, might as well go into the Hall and watch a vid or something.”
Bartie raises his hands in peace, but his face is angry. “You never do anything without someone telling you to,” he says. “How was I supposed to know that this was different?”
“You’re such a frexing hypocrite,” I spit. “You’re so worried about all I’m doing wrong, you have no idea what I’m doing right.”
Bartie snorts, and in that sound, I can hear all the contempt and derision that I’ve had to put up with from him — from everyone — who’s been judging me since Eldest died. And I’m frexing sick and tired of it.
“You want to be Eldest?” I say loudly. “Fine. Be Eldest. Then you’ll know what it’s like when you have to watch your friends die. Know what I did while you were just frexing lying around here all day? I was on the Bridge; I was in the doorway when it exploded. I watched Prestyn and Hailee and Brittne and the others get sucked out into space. I watched Shelby hanging on to a chair, saw the tears in her eyes as she reached out to me. But I let her die so I could save the Engine Room. And the rest of the frexing ship.”
I march to the railing and look out at the Feeder Level, my back to him.
“You let Shelby die?”
“I watched her beg for her life, and then I sealed the door anyway.”
No, no, no, no, no.
Bartie pauses for a moment, staring at me. I keep walking. He rushes to catch up. “Maybe you’re more of a leader than I gave you credit for.”
“Go frex yourself.”
“I’m trying to apologize here.”
“For what? Why? Because I let some Shippers die, suddenly I’m a better leader? Shite. That’s Eldest’s logic. Not mine.”
This time, I make sure to outpace him.
I stand under the statue of the Plague Eldest. His concrete arms are raised in mock benevolence, but I wonder now, looking at his weather-worn face, if there was ever a time when there was something of him in me. We are, supposedly, genetically the same, but… would we have made the same decisions? Would he do what I’m about to?
I don’t think so.
The people arrive slowly. Most of them — I can tell by their forlorn faces, looks of fear and anger — already know what I’m about to say. Some — family and friends of the first-level Shippers — are among those that gather closest to me.
When as many people as possible are crowded near the statue, I jump up on the base so I’m a little above them. I can spot individual faces, despite the fact that the garden is so crowded. Bartie stands in almost the exact center of the crowd. Doc and Kit stand by the Hospital. Amy’s near the pond, standing a bit away from everyone. She’s wearing a jacket, the hood pulled up over her face, but I know it’s her. She glances up just in time to meet my gaze, and the pride in her eyes gives me the strength to speak.
“Hello,” I say, because I can’t really think of anything else to open with. “I have terrible news,” I add, raising my voice when I notice the people straining to hear me better. I turn on my wi-com instead of shouting — now I can speak like I’m having a normal conversation.
“I have terrible news,” I repeat, my voice transmitting directly into their ears. “But I suspect that most of you have already heard about the devastating events I’m about to discuss.” I take a deep breath, preparing myself. Rather than trying to look at everyone, I seek out Amy again. It’s easier if I can pretend I’m only talking to her. “The Bridge was blown up today. We — I—don’t know who did it, but the attack was done purposefully. It resulted in the deaths of nine Shippers, including First Shipper Shelby.” Now I look away from Amy. “It also prevented us from ever being able to land Godspeed.”
I pause. No one speaks. I let the silence stretch out to the edges of the ship.
“Since I have assumed leadership, I have abolished the practice of contaminating the water system with Phydus. I have attempted to work with you, to find a way for you to carry on your lives aboard the ship without the drug. When I discovered that Centauri-Earth was within our reach, I attempted to fulfill the mission of Godspeed and land the ship.”
I swallow hard, forcing myself to look at the whole crowd.
“But in this — as in all aspects of my leadership — I have failed.”
There are gasps of surprise, angry looks, confused looks, murmurs of questions. But as soon as I open my mouth, everyone’s silent again.