Across the Universe - Beth Revis [38]
“So?”
“I do not like differences. Differences cause trouble.”
The doctor twitches nervously. He starts rearranging his desktop again.
“Gee, I’m real sorry about all that. But, you know, it’s not like I wanted to be here.”
“Regardless. The easiest thing to do would be to deposit you among the stars.”
“Eldest!” The doctor steps forward, a look of shock and concern on his face.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“We have release hatches.” Eldest speaks slowly, as if talking to someone stupid. “They open up to the outside.”
The meaning of his words sinks slowly into my skin until I have absorbed it with all that I am.
“You want to just dump me in space?” My voice is low, but not for long. “It’s not like I’ve done anything wrong! I didn’t wake myself up, you know!”
Eldest shrugs. “It would be by far the simplest solution. You are, after all, nonessential.”
“We can’t do that,” the doctor says, and I totally forgive him for being creepy and threatening me with drugs. At least he doesn’t want to let me implode in space.
“No, Doc,” Eldest says. “It’s very important that you understand, that she understands that yes, we could just dump her in space. We could,” he repeats, gazing at me.
“But we won’t,” the doctor says firmly. “She can stay here in the Ward. That will keep her away from the general population. She won’t cause as much of a disturbance if she stays here.”
“You think so?” Eldest says, his voice soft but doubtful.
“I’m sure of it. Besides, the Season will begin soon. That will distract the others.”
Eldest narrows his eyes at the doctor. Something the doctor said there has struck the wrong chord with him, that much’s for sure. He opens his mouth, notices me watching him avidly, and glares at me. “Come outside with me, Doc,” Eldest commands.
The doctor looks nervous. Guilty.
“Oh, don’t go on my account,” I say, leaning back in the chair. “Go ahead and say whatever it is you want to say in front of me.”
Eldest turns to the door. “Doc,” he orders.
The doctor scampers up and follows Eldest out.
As soon as the door zips shut behind them, I leap from my chair and press my ear against the metal. Nothing. I go back to the doctor’s desk, dump out his pencils, and put the cup against the door, like they do in those old Disney movies. More nothing.
“—last time!” Eldest roars so loudly that I almost drop the cup. I cram my ear against the metal door, straining for sound.
“It’s not like last time,” the doctor hisses. He must be standing closer to the door—his voice is softer, but I can hear him better. I wonder if he’s moved closer just for my benefit.
Eldest, meanwhile, has lowered his voice, and I only catch snatches of what he says. “Really?—The Season starting... someone unplugged—again—and you...”
“You know it can’t be him again,” the doctor says. There’s some mumbling, a deep rumble of a voice, but I can’t discern it. I catch one word: “Impossible.”
“Whabout you?” Their strange accent isn’t helping my eavesdropping, either.
“Me?” the doctor says.
“You.” I catch the sneer in Eldest’s voice, even through the metal door. “You were sympathetic to him last time, don’t try to deny it.”
“—posterous,” the doctor mumbles, “... could as easily say it was you.”
Another low grumbling. It sounds almost like Eldest is actually growling.
“Well?” the doctor exclaims. “Elder told me you were teaching him about discord. How am I to know this isn’t all some sick trial you’ve devised to test the boy!” Something, something—stupid door makes it impossible to hear properly—“like last time.”
Eldest’s voice deepens and grows gravelly. There’s some sort of scuffling, and before I have time to move, the door zips open. The doctor bumps right into me, and I do drop the cup this time. It rolls across the floor, the only sound as the three of us stare at one another.
Eldest’s face is hard, harsh. “I’ll be keeping a close eye on this... situation,” he says, but he’s looking at Doc, not me. He straightens his tunic-like shirt and turns to leave.