Seek the Truth
By Laura Schiller
Based on the Across the Universe Trilogy
Copyright: Beth Revis
Amy woke up with a gasp, her own heartbeat roaring in her ears. She'd been dreaming again – dreaming of being pinned down by bruising hands and hungry eyes; of a dead body in a release hatch; of a desperate, pregnant woman raining blows on an unresponsive face. How could you do this to me? I knew you! … My two lovely carros, together at last … You think that boy can stop me? I can do anything I want!
Taking deep breaths, she forced herself to take stock of her surroundings: the cube of softly glowing solar glass in the window and the starry sky outside, the rough furniture woven from reeds and branches; the icebox full of food sent over by Zane's hybrids to tide the humans over until their first crops came in. Last but not least, Elder, curled against her in their sleeping bag, smelling of sweat and earth after a hard day's work of farming.
She was not on Godspeed. She was on Centauri-Earth. She was safe.
"Amy … " came his sleepy whisper. "What's wrong?"
He blinked his eyes open until they shone in the light of the glass.
"Sorry," she replied. "I didn't mean to wake you up. Go back to sleep."
As a research assistant to her late mother's Earthborn colleagues, her work wasn't half as physically demanding as what Elder put himself through to set an example for his people (though she did pitch in when her hybrid strength was needed, feeling she might as well put her mutations to good use). He needed a good night's rest much more than she did, nightmares be damned.
"Not until you tell me what's wrong," he replied softly.
Amy sighed. Knowing him, he would not let the matter rest until she told him. Persistence in search of the truth was something she had taught him in the first place, but it was a mixed blessing when he turned those qualities on her.
"I dreamed about Luthor," she said.
Luthor. Even his name made their warm cottage a few degrees colder. She had struggled to forget him for so long, saying the name made her feel as if she'd conjured up a ghost of fear and hatred.
"I think I know who killed him. It was Victria, wasn't it?"
Elder's body tensed from head to toe.
"I know she was your friend, but … you saw what she was like, those last days. She could have killed us. And you know what that man did to her."
Her mutation lent an even stronger edge of steel to her voice as she remembered Victria curled around her swollen belly, sobbing, with no one to confide in but a frozen Orion and a girl she hardly knew. Ready to shoot that girl if it would only bring Orion back.
"I saw her once," said Elder, his own voice faraway and sad. "After Luthor went missing. She had a bunch of Phydus patches in her pockets. I remember wondering why she had so many."
"Doc must have given them to her," Amy agreed, remembering how furious she had been at that bizarre alliance made in Orion's name. "So she used them on Luthor … and then she put him in the release hatch, but she couldn't finish the code. And that's how I … how I found him."
Dead. She had found him dead, cold to the touch, his eyes glazed over. She had sent him floating out into space without a word to anyone. She had covered up his murder.
"Why didn't you tell anyone?"
Why? Too many reasons. Because she had hated Luthor for what he'd done to her, to Victria, to the rabbit girl. Because Godspeed had been chaotic in those last days, and planet-landing her only desire. Because better people than Luthor had died, before and since: her mother and father, Kit, Emma, Harley and so many more. But the real reason was one she had barely acknowledged, barely whispered even to herself.
"I was afraid it was you."
"You thought – "
"I know you didn't kill him," she hurried to say. "But when I told you what he did to Victria and me … the look on your face … "
Elder was silent. She held her breath, waiting for him to say something. She would understand it if he were hurt or angry; after all, to accuse such a dedicated leader of murdering one of his own people was a serious matter.
Instead of losing his temper, however, Elder sat up, ran his hands through his hair, and looked down at the glossy fabric of the sleeping bag instead of meeting her eyes.
"I almost did," he said.
Amy wondered what it said about their lives that she was not even surprised.
"I went to confront him after … after you told me what he'd done. Frex, I was so mad, I could have strangled him with my bare hands! But when I found him, it was in the Recorder Hall, with people all around - " He laughed bitterly. "And most of them hated me already. The moment I touched him, I'd have started another riot, and he knew that."
"So you stayed calm." She placed a gentle hand on his back, feeling the months-old anger still coursing through his body. "You didn't let him get to you."
"Hmph. For once."
"Well, that was more than I could do."
She sat up as well, leaving the sleeping bag halfway unzipped, shivering slightly in the night breeze.
"I let him get between us for months," she confessed. "Afraid to tell you, afraid you wouldn't believe me, or you'd think I was weak, or else you'd do something extreme just when our people needed your attention. Even dead, he had so much power over me. I can't believe I let him get away with it for so long … "
Elder gathered her into his arms and held her close, for his own comfort as much as for hers.
"It's over now," he whispered, stroking her hair. "He's gone. He can't hurt us. And Amy?"
"Yes?"
"I still wish you'd told me earlier … but don't ever think of yourself as not being brave. You are. Stars, Amy, you're the bravest person I know – the way you held the colony together when I was gone … "
"I had to," was all she could say.
Just thinking about those weeks she had believed him dead – that horribly beautiful explosion on constant repeat inside her mind; the blur of shocked faces when she'd informed their people; the endless round of negotiations with Zane and Chris; the thousand things to direct and organize when all she wanted was to curl up inside her cottage with her sleeping bag over her head – made her shiver, even in the warmth of her lover's arms.
"I know," said Elder. "And I love you for it."
He kissed her, soft and slow, and she melted against him like butter in the sun. Their conversation shifted to a level beyond words: every touch, every sound, every gaze, spoke of the absolute trust between them. No more secrets, no more lies; and for the moment, no duties either. They were not the leader of Shining Sands Colony and the youngest member of its science team; they were not the pair of teenagers who had taken so many risks to get there; they were nothing but Elder and Amy, man and woman, creating a world of their own in the safety of each other's arms.