The Shippers gather around as we pull the transport out. For most of them, this is the first death they’ve seen. When Eldest was in charge, death was a methodical, scheduled product of the Hospital.

They stare at Marae’s body as I pass; I stare at the floor. The hard lines of the metal blur. I rub my face angrily with my hands.

I force my shoulders down, my back straight.

I look directly ahead of me and only allow my clenching jaw to show how much this hurts.

Chapter 46

46

AMY

WITHOUT ELDER, THERE’S LITTLE POINT IN ME EXPLORING the stairs further. Instead, I go to the garden behind the Hospital. Bartie and his crowd have left, including Luthor. The smashed grass around the bench is the only remnant of the impromptu meeting. I peel the moccasins off my feet and pad through the cool grass to the water’s edge. I think about com-ing Elder, but I’m afraid of bothering him when he’s doing something important. I sit on the bank, my knees drawn up under my chin, and stare at the pond’s perfectly still surface. I try to see through its depths—the water’s clear, and not very deep, but my eyes bore past the dangling roots of lotus flowers to the green-brown murkiness that shadows my view.

I lean back, and grass tickles my neck. My feet slip down the bank until my toes touch the cool water. I slide my feet into the pond and close my eyes. The solar lamp above me beats down warmth and light, but behind my eyelids, it looks like the same bright reddish blur that the Sun looked like on Earth when I’d lie down outside.

A shadow crosses over me, and the brightness dims—like the sun covered by clouds. I open my eyes, and Elder’s face is rimmed with light as he leans down over me.

“Hey,” I say, suddenly breathless. All my thoughts of dragging him off to the stairs and exploring the ship disappear as he collapses beside me, exhaustion etched on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

Elder makes a noncommittal noise.

I want to reach out to him, let him know that I’m sorry for his loss, but I know no words will ever be enough.

Elder leans back in the grass, staring at the metal ceiling of the Feeder Level. If we were outside on Earth, this would be nice. Lying in cool grass next to a pond, staring up at clouds the way little kids do. But this isn’t Earth and the clouds are paint and even if there is a planet past this ship, it still seems a very long way away.

“Marae was murdered. Like Stevy. The same phrase on the med patches.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, the two most inadequate words in the English language.

“I want to know who’s doing this.”