Chapters (73)
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- Chapter 62
- Chapter 63
- Chapter 64
- Chapter 65
- Chapter 66
- Chapter 67
- Chapter 68
- Chapter 69
- Chapter 70
- Chapter 71
- Chapter 72
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My throat burns, making me cough; the yellow powder must be affecting me in ways I can’t even tell. I shiver; it’s colder here than anywhere else on the ship. I creep back up the stairs. I can feel my heartbeat thudding in my ears, and I’m cold with sweat. I grasp at air. I remember the way Victria thought she was dying, overwhelmed by the idea of a world beyond the ship. I feel the same panic surging inside me, overwhelmed by the idea of still being trapped behind walls, forever behind walls.
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.
Chapter 61
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.