Doc moves over to stand by Elder. I start to lunge after him, but Victria steps in my way. Her hand is shaking; she’s not used to the weight of the gun, and the grip sits uncomfortably in her palm. Not that it matters . . . all it would take is one squeeze of her trigger finger, and I’d be gone.

I eye her warily, taking in the fear in her face, the sweat trickling down her neck. She doesn’t want to do this, she doesn’t want to hurt me, but she’s like a caged animal, and a caged animal will do anything if threatened. I stay still.

“Oh, Elder, I tried to warn you, I did,” Doc says, gently plucking the wires from Elder’s hands. “I told you each time—follow the leader.”

“You’re insane,” I shout. “Elder is the leader!”

Doc turns and looks at me, as if he’s evaluating my worth and finding that I come up just short. “I did hope he could become Eldest. I gave him three months. But as more and more people started to question him, it became clear he was hopeless. And then there was Bartie.” He sneers the name.

My eyes flick to Bartie, the green patch on his neck.

“Bartie thought he could start a revolution.” Doc rolls his eyes. “His attempts were clever—hacking into the floppies and the wi-coms was smart—but in the end he’s such a feeble sort of person. He would never really have what it takes to lead a true revolution. And besides,” Doc adds, “I wasn’t going to let dissent evolve into rebellion. Once we have a real leader again, any question of a revolt will disappear.”

I don’t like the way he says “disappear” in a voice that holds so much finality.

Doc’s gaze shifts to me. “I tried to help. I made the patches, and when Elder didn’t use them, I did. He could have used those deaths to instill the proper amount of fear required to demand obedience. But did you?” he asks, turning to Elder’s emotionless face. “No.” He shoves Elder’s body. Elder doesn’t resist, and he crashes against the Phydus machine. “As time went on,” Doc continues, “it became more and more obvious that what we needed was for him to step down. He was the one who needed to follow the leader. The warnings were for him.” He pokes a finger in Elder’s chest. Elder stares straight ahead, his body slack.

“And Marae?” I ask.

“I tried to talk to her. Of everyone on the ship, she should have been on Orion’s side. But no. She was for Elder.”

Doc places the wires on top of the Phydus pump. The drug is not his main concern. He strolls across the room, back to Orion’s cryo chamber.