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Orion shifts on the steps.
ORION: I don’t know if killing her was worth saving the ship.
He shrugs, as if there’s a possibility that killing her was excusable, or even understandable.
ORION: Maybe it was. Maybe Eldest is right. This truth . . . I don’t think anyone wants it.
Orion tucks a piece of hair behind his ear.
I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear.
ORION: That’s why I need you, Amy. You will know. Because you were born on a planet, but you’ve lived on Godspeed. You’re the only one on the whole ship who can know what to do with this truth.
Orion turns to face the camera, and his eyes seem to lock with mine.
ORION: I’ve seen the armory. Eldest showed it to me once. Just before . . . Anyway, I started asking questions. Like: If we are on a peaceful, exploratory mission like Eldest says, why are we armed for war?
I glance at Amy, but her attention is focused on the vid screen. Inside me, the stone grows larger. Amy never believed Orion had a reason to kill the frozens—she thought he was crazy and that his theory that the frozens would exploit those of us born on the ship was a delusion. I don’t think she believes there even is an armory behind one of the locked doors, even now, seeing Orion talk about it.
Orion looks over both shoulders, fear filling his face. He looks guilty or afraid or both.
ORION: So here’s what you need to do, Amy. You need to see the armory for yourself. You were from Sol-Earth, your father was in the military. You should know what is a reasonable amount of weaponry a ship like ours should have. So, go to the armory. See for yourself.
Orion shifts out of focus, then leans forward, his face filling the screen.
ORION: Oh, right. You need the code to get past the locked door, don’t you? Well, I’ll say only this, Amy. Go home. You hear me? Go home. You’ll find the answer there. GO HOME.
The screen fades to black.
24
AMY
GO HOME? GO HOME? WHAT THE HELL IS THAT SUPPOSED to mean? Earth? Yeah, I wish. The new planet? Just as impossible.
“Maybe he means the next clue is hidden inside an atlas or something?” Elder says.
Ha ha, Orion, funny joke. My home is nothing but a book of maps to places that I can’t even reach anymore.
“Maybe,” is all I say aloud. “I guess it’s worth checking into. ”
Elder places the painting down on the ground gently, reverently, and looks over his shoulder at it as he follows me out of the tiny bedroom, through the bathroom, and into the next bedroom. Lil’s still on her bed. She sits up when she sees us.
“You’re taking it, aren’t you?” she spits.
“No,” Elder says. “It’s yours. ”
Lil blinks, and her eyes focus on him. She glances at me, but her eyes dart quickly away again, unable to bear the sight of me, I suppose.
“And I’ll make sure food is sent to you,” Elder says. “I’m going to send Doc over here too. He’s been working on some med patches I think will help. ”
Lil nods, but she doesn’t get up as we leave her home. Part of me wonders: will she jump out of bed, race to her precious painting? Or does she care enough to even do that?
As we head down the stairs back into the City streets, Elder pushes his wi-com and starts issuing orders, first for food delivery, then for medication. He’s so intent that he doesn’t notice the angry man who spots us as we descend.
“Where is she?” the man demands. The man leans forward so close that Elder backs away until he bumps into the handrail of the stairs.
“Who?” Elder asks.
