Across the Universe - Beth Revis [102]
“Eldest says it’s best for people not to dwell too much on Sol-Earth. That we should think about the future, not the past.”
“But he lets you see it.”
Elder turns to stare at the screen, and for a moment, he looks a photo of Kim Jong-il in the eyes, but then the picture fades into one of the old presidents. I can’t remember which one it is, the fat one with the big mustache.
“It’s part of his lessons. He wants me to learn about Sol-Earth, so that I can prevent its mistakes. Why won’t this frexing thing work?”
I want to say that Earth did not have mistakes, but I know that’s not true. And I want to say that Eldest’s method of running a world isn’t right, but I’m not sure that’s true. There is so much about this world inside a ship that I just don’t understand.
“Orion!” Elder calls. “One of the wall floppies is stuck!”
“Is he here?” I look around—the place looks empty except for us.
The screen behind Elder shifts, fading from one old president to another.
“As I was saying, Eldest wanted me to learn from Sol-Earth. A lot of your leaders had it right—they just didn’t get their people to follow. Like him.”
I glance back at the image on the screen. “Who? Abraham Lincoln?”
Elder nods. “Sixteenth governmental leader of the United States of America, located in the northern hemisphere of Sol-Earth, between the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. He was leader during the Civil War, a war between the states.”
“Yes, I know.” I am wary now. There is something in the way Elder speaks of Abraham Lincoln, so cold and disconnected, that makes me unsure—either of what he knows, or of what I know. I see a flicker of movement in the shadows near the door.
“He is the kind of leader Eldest wants me to be like.” The picture starts to fade, but Elder touches the screen, and Lincoln’s picture stays. I wait for him to continue. “When the states wanted to break up into discord, Lincoln provided the strong central leadership that kept them together.”
“Yes.” The word drawls out of my lips, long and low. Half my attention is on the door—is that Orion listening to us, or someone else? And why won’t whoever it is come out of the shadows and talk to us?
“And when the differences that existed between the states were too strong, Lincoln was the one who eliminated the cause of that discord.”
“I—what?”
“Monoethnicity. The cause of the war was that two races could not live in one country. Lincoln sent the black race back to the continent of Africa, and the war ended.”
I sputter. “What are you talking about? That’s not what happened!”
Elder taps on the screen, and the picture of Lincoln is replaced with text. He reads the words aloud, a hint of reverence in his voice.
“Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth, upon this continent, a new nation dedicated to the proposition that all men must be equal. Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation can long endure if men are not equal. We are met here on a great battlefield of that war to determine the future of one nation, one people, free of discord, at peace through sameness. Our nation will now discover the strength of unity and uniformity.”
The text scrolls on. Elder takes a deep breath, about to continue reading.
“Stop.”
Elder looks at me, surprised.
“That is not the Gettysburg Address,” I say.
“Of course it is.”
“It’s not.”
“Then what’s the Gettysburg Address?”
I dig in my brain, trying to remember. “The four score part was the same. But this one is saying things like everyone should be the same—that’s not in there.”
“Then what does the Gettysburg Address say?”
“Er ... Four score and seven years ago ... um ... Okay, look, I don’t have the thing memorized, but I know enough to know that one’s wrong.”
Elder looks at me doubtfully, and I realize how weak my argument sounds. Inside, I’m beating myself up: how could I have left Earth without knowing this?
“That’s—this thing is basically racism,” I say. Elder doesn’t seem to know what “racism” is. “The speech you just read—that was all about dividing the