“It’s suicide,” I say under my breath, but I don’t feel so safe that I can shout back.

Elder crosses the pond and motions for someone to talk to him. The young woman nods and speaks to him, shooting glances at Bartie and the crowd behind her.

Finally Elder speaks again. “The scientists agree that the internal functions of the ship could last for at least a generation, maybe indefinitely if the biosphere is maintained and energy conserved.”

Conversation surges again through the crowd. Elder raises his arm—and they’re all silenced immediately.

“This is an important decision. Whatever you decide now—there will be no going back. Stay or leave—your decision will be permanent.”

He takes a deep breath.

“But your decision will be yours.”

Chapter 71

71

ELDER

AMY CORNERS ME IN THE KEEPER LEVEL AT THE END OF THE DAY.

“You can’t be serious,” she demands.

“I can’t force people to go.” I roll my shoulders back, trying to ease some of the tension within them.

“It’s suicide! Godspeed can’t last forever—in a few generations, everyone will die out!”

“I’ve talked to Bartie about this,” I say, collapsing in one of the blue plastic chairs I’ve pulled into the Great Room from the Learning Center. “When the ship’s no longer sustainable, they’ll . . .”

“They’ll what?” Amy demands. “Make a suicide pact? Drink the bad Kool-Aid?”

I have no idea what she’s talking about. “Doc has an array of med patches. The black ones . . .”

“Kill?” She sounds disgusted.

“As humanely as possible.”

Amy throws her hands down and starts pacing around the Great Room. “This is ridiculous,” she says. “You can’t let them stay here! You have to force them to come! They’re killing themselves—”

I cut her off. “I’ve talked to the scientists. The ship isn’t going to disintegrate overnight. There will be enough energy to last for a couple more generations at least.”

“And then?” Amy demands.

And then black patches.

“It’s what they want,” I say.

“You’re the leader! Make them come!”

I wait until she stops pacing and faces me. “Amy, I have to consider more than just your opinion.”

She bites down as if she’s chewing on her words, then sits down opposite me.

“How many are staying?”

“About eight hundred.”

“Eight hundred?!” Amy jumps up again.

“About.”

“That’s . . .”

“More than a third of the ship,” I say.

“They’d rather die in a cage than live on a planet?”

“This is their home, Amy,” I say. “I know you can’t understand how Godspeed is a home, but it is.”

She sits back down, slowly. “You should make them go,” she snaps. “But,” she adds when I open my mouth, “I can see how they might want to stay. If they’ve never seen anything else . . .”