Beth Revis - Across the Universe

“Other what?” The doctor weighs his round paperweight in his hands and carefully puts it back where it was before Eldest picked it up.

“Other Eldey-thingy. There’s you,” I say to Eldest. “You’re in charge of the doctor’s generation. And the boy I met will be in charge of the new generation. But what about all those twenty-year-olds? Who’s in charge of them?”

The doctor and Eldest exchange a look.

“That Elder died,” Eldest says. His face is dark, set. I glance up at the doctor. His face is downcast, the folds of his crow’s feet crinkling deeper.

I wonder just how that Elder died.

“Clearly,” Eldest says, a tone of finality in his voice, “you are different. Freakish appearance, abnormally young.”

“So?”

“I do not like differences. Differences cause trouble.”

The doctor twitches nervously. He starts rearranging his desktop again.

“Gee, I’m real sorry about all that. But, you know, it’s not like I wanted to be here.”

“Regardless. The easiest thing to do would be to deposit you among the stars.”

“Eldest!” The doctor steps forward, a look of shock and concern on his face.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“We have release hatches.” Eldest speaks slowly, as if talking to someone stupid. “They open up to the outside.”

The meaning of his words sinks slowly into my skin until I have absorbed it with all that I am.

“You want to just dump me in space?” My voice is low, but not for long. “It’s not like I’ve done anything wrong! I didn’t wake myself up, you know!”

Eldest shrugs. “It would be by far the simplest solution. You are, after all, nonessential.”

“We can’t do that,” the doctor says, and I totally forgive him for being creepy and threatening me with drugs. At least he doesn’t want to let me implode in space.

“No, Doc,” Eldest says. “It’s very important that you understand, that she understands that yes, we could just dump her in space. We could,” he repeats, gazing at me.

“But we won’t ,” the doctor says firmly. “She can stay here in the Ward. That will keep her away from the general population. She won’t cause as much of a disturbance if she stays here.”

“You think so?” Eldest says, his voice soft but doubtful.

“I’m sure of it. Besides, the Season will begin soon. That will distract the others.”

Eldest narrows his eyes at the doctor. Something the doctor said there has struck the wrong chord with him, that much’s for sure. He opens his mouth, notices me watching him avidly, and glares at me. “Come outside with me, Doc,” Eldest commands.

The doctor looks nervous. Guilty.

“Oh, don’t go on my account,” I say, leaning back in the chair. “Go ahead and say whatever it is you want to say in front of me.”

Eldest turns to the door. “Doc,” he orders.

The doctor scampers up and follows Eldest out.

As soon as the door zips shut behind them, I leap from my chair and press my ear against the metal. Nothing. I go back to the doctor’s desk, dump out his pencils, and put the cup against the door, like they do in those old Disney movies. More nothing.

“-last time!” Eldest roars so loudly that I almost drop the cup. I cram my ear against the metal door, straining for sound.

“It’s not like last time,” the doctor hisses. He must be standing closer to the door-his voice is softer, but I can hear him better. I wonder if he’s moved closer just for my benefit.

Eldest, meanwhile, has lowered his voice, and I only catch snatches of what he says. “ Really ?-The Season starting… someone unplugged-again-and you…”

“You know it can’t be him again,” the doctor says. There’s some mumbling, a deep rumble of a voice, but I can’t discern it. I catch one word: “Impossible.”

“Whabout you ?” Their strange accent isn’t helping my eavesdropping, either.

“Me?” the doctor says.

“You.” I catch the sneer in Eldest’s voice, even through the metal door. “You were sympathetic to him last time, don’t try to deny it.”

“-posterous,” the doctor mumbles, “… could as easily say it was you .”

Another low grumbling. It sounds almost like Eldest is actually growling.

“Well?” the doctor exclaims. “Elder told me you were teaching him about discord. How am I to know this isn’t all some sick trial you’ve devised to test the boy!” Something, something -stupid door makes it impossible to hear properly-“like last time.”

Eldest’s voice deepens and grows gravelly. There’s some sort of scuffling, and before I have time to move, the door zips open. The doctor bumps right into me, and I do drop the cup this time. It rolls across the floor, the only sound as the three of us stare at one another.

Eldest’s face is hard, harsh. “I’ll be keeping a close eye on this… situation,” he says, but he’s looking at Doc, not me. He straightens his tunic-like shirt and turns to leave. Then he pauses and looks back at me. “Don’t leave the Hospital grounds. I haven’t decided what to do with you yet.”

“I’m not some sort of prisoner!” I shout at him.

“On this ship, we all are,” he says, and then he’s gone.

“Don’t worry about him,” the doctor says, reaching over to pat my shoulder. I shrug him away. “He won’t put you in a release hatch.”

“Humph.” I didn’t quite believe that.

“I have set you up in a room with all the appropriate necessities. You will be living here, at least for now. Do you have any questions?”

Is he really going to pretend like nothing happened? Like I couldn’t hear what they were arguing about? All right, I didn’t hear most of it, but I heard enough.

“What happened last time?” I ask.

“What do you mean?” the doctor says, sitting down at his desk. He waves graciously at the chair across from him, and I slump down in it.

I give him a look, but he ignores it. “Come on. Really?”

The doctor starts straightening the pencils I dumped on his desk. He’s seriously OCD. But… I wonder how much of him is real. He’s as expressionless with me as he is with Eldest. I doubt he likes me-but he did stand up for me when Eldest threatened to throw me out the hatch. As for how the doctor feels about Eldest… I thought he respected him, maybe even feared him, but he seemed to move closer to the door when I was trying to listen in on his conversation with Eldest. Did he do that on purpose? Now-is he trying to get me to ask the right questions? Or am I just playing mind games with myself?

“Last Season,” the doctor says, “we had some trouble. But it has nothing to do with this.”

“It might. How do you know?”

“Because the person who caused trouble last Season is dead,” the doctor says. “Anything else?”

He’s getting angry, maybe already regretting that he promised not to throw me off the ship. He likes things organized, and I’ve already proven more than once just in this little office that he can’t organize me like he can his pencils.

“Yeah,” I say, unable to keep the aggression from my voice. “Why was I woken up early? What happened?”

The doctor frowns. “I’m not sure,” he says finally. “But it appears as if someone… disconnected you.”

“Disconnected me?”

“The cryostasis chambers are attached to a very simple electrical device that monitors temperatures and life support systems. You were simply… disconnected from the power unit. Turned off. Unplugged.”

“Who unplugged me?!” I demand, rising. The doctor’s hand twitches, inching closer to the med patch on his desk. I sit back down, but my heart is racing, my breathing shallow. Between that conversation in the hall and this revelation, it’s clear that something’s going on. And I’m stuck in the middle of it.