“I don’t need time to prepare!” Kieran said angrily.
“Good,” Sarah said happily.
He stared at her insolent grin, shaking his head in disbelief.
But as he looked out over the crowd, he began to see how eager they all were. The kids were milling around, excited, reading the schedule, talking among themselves. Never had they looked so animated. They wanted this.
If he tried to prevent an election, he’d lose the Captain’s chair for sure.
“I defer to the will of the crew,” Kieran said loudly, to make sure everyone heard him. With a mean smile, Sarah handed him a schedule. He went to his office to think, leaving behind the sound of excited voices all talking at once.
He rested his head on his desk and closed his eyes. He was being tested.
Kieran breathed deeply, tried to calm down.
I need to have faith, he told himself. If this election is part of His plan, I just have to trust.
But what if I lose? he thought.
I won’t, he told himself. I am meant to be the Captain. Otherwise, what has all this been for?
He was calm and ready to face down his opponents by the time he went back to the auditorium, where the debates were about to begin.
There were about twenty-five crew members sitting on the stage, all vying for a position on the seven-member council, all of them eager to have their say about how they would help improve the way the Empyrean was run. Kieran bravely endured criticism after criticism, most of which was based on a poor understanding of the capacity of the crew and the ship.
Adam Mizrahi made the most ridiculous suggestion in his bid for a Central Council seat. “We could catch up to the New Horizon tomorrow if we just punched the engines as hard as they’ll go.”
This was met with a robust round of applause from the younger kids, but Kieran could see the older kids, who understood the health effects of the added gravity, were less enthusiastic.
Arthur Dietrich, who was also a nominee, stood and faced Adam. “Aside from the effect that would have on our bodies, we can’t push the engines any harder than we’re doing right now without risking a collision with a deep-space particle that could rip through our hull. It’s right there in the Piloting and Navigation Manual, if you’d bother to look.” This quieted the crowd, and Arthur turned to face them. “There has got to be at least one person on the Central Council who is familiar with the workings of the ship, and is up to date on all the latest information about the terrorist and our plans for confronting the New Horizon. That person is me, if you’ll vote for me.”
Arthur looked meaningfully at Kieran, and he knew that Arthur would serve as a trusty go-between. Kieran hoped he’d be elected.
Then Waverly raised her hand to get the attention of the crowd. “I have more experience than anyone dealing with the command structure of the New Horizon, and I’m familiar with the political situation on that ship as well as the physical layout. I have expertise that would be invaluable to the Central Council as we plan our attack.”
“You left our parents behind!” yelled a small girl in the back, one of Marjorie’s cohorts. Several other girls raised shrill voices in agreement as Marjorie smiled from among them.
“If I did, then so did you,” Waverly shot back, her eyes flashing.
This seemed to cow them. But some of the boys weren’t satisfied. “You didn’t even try to find out who’s still alive!” shouted a boy of twelve. Kieran knew that his parents were unaccounted for.
“Do you have a bullet hole in you?” Waverly asked angrily, pulling her shirt collar over to expose the ugly red welt on her shoulder. “I got this trying to save our parents. I’d have done it, too, if there hadn’t been bullets flying everywhere.”
“You left them there!” called out Marjorie Wilkins. Though she was one of Kieran’s fiercest supporters, he’d never really liked her. There was something about her sneering face that hinted at an ugly little soul.
“It was my plan that got the girls off that ship, along with Sarah Hodges. Samantha Stapleton gave her life so we could free ourselves,” Waverly said, her eyes trained on Marjorie. “If there are girls sitting in this audience today, it’s because of us.”
No one seemed to have anything to say to that.
Once the debate was finished, the crew members all lined up at the back of the auditorium and entered their top seven choices for Central Council into a computer, which tallied up the numbers immediately. Kieran had a few friends on the council. Arthur had been elected, along with Tobin Ames, or “Doctor Tobin” as the kids had begun calling him, and Harvey Markem, a Command officer. Harvey’s bandage was gone from his head, and he looked perfectly healed. Waverly was voted in by a slender margin, along with some kids who would be more likely to side with her: Alia Khadivi was a loyal friend of Waverly’s; Melissa Dickinson, the girl who took care of the little kids, was always defending Waverly from her detractors; and Sealy Arndt had been Seth’s hotheaded crony. Kieran’s heart sank. His supporters would be in the minority on the council. Arthur would have to be very persuasive in debates.
After what seemed an endless debate between five candidates for Justice of the Peace, the crew narrowly elected twelve-year-old Bobby Martin. Kieran tried not to show his disapproval of the choice. Bobby had an unpredictable personality, and Kieran had never been sure of his loyalty. It seemed crazy to let legal decisions rest on the shoulders of a boy who didn’t even have to shave yet. The problem was, all the older kids were already saddled with responsibilities as guards, Central Council members, or in Central Command. They’d run out of teenagers to run the ship.
Kieran sent an angry glare in Waverly’s direction and was surprised to see her already looking at him. He nodded at her, since no matter how he felt, it looked like he’d be working with her. But he knew she could see his fury through his placid surface. He’d never been able to hide anything from her.
When all the debates for the lower positions were finished, Waverly walked onto the empty stage and took hold of the microphone. “It’s time for the debate for the Captain’s chair. I’d like to invite Sarah Hodges to the podium.”
Sarah walked to the front of the room, swinging her arms, looking as though she were preparing for a physical fight. She took hold of the microphone and smiled hatefully at Kieran before beginning. “As you know, several days ago I was imprisoned in the brig without due process. I was threatened and I was branded a traitor. If you don’t vote for me, something like that might happen to you. Kieran Alden isn’t Captain of this vessel. He’s a dictator, and it’s up to all of us to stop him.”
Kieran shook with anger as he listened to slander after slander from Sarah. He was alarmed to hear himself spoken of with such hatred, but when he looked out over the crowd, he saw many skeptical faces watching her. The more she talked—about how she’d speed up the pursuit of the New Horizon and how she’d execute Anne Mather and her Central Council for what they did—the less she sounded like a leader, and the more she sounded like an angry, scared little girl who didn’t have the slightest idea of what she was up against. Though the end of her speech was met with applause, Kieran knew he could do better.
When he took the podium, Arthur, who was standing at the back of the room, led such a round of cheers that instantly Kieran felt more confident.
“That certainly was an interesting story Sarah Hodges told you about me,” he said, trying to sound amused rather than furious. “I call it a story because none of it is true. I put Ms. Hodges in the brig because she withheld vital information that could help us find Seth Ardvale and the terrorist. I care about getting our parents back, and I care about keeping this ship running, but there’s one thing I care about even more: keeping you alive. If there are maniacs running around killing our crew the way they killed Max Brent, then don’t you think I’d better stop at nothing to find them and bring them to justice?”
Arthur whooped in the back, which triggered a chorus of cheering and whistles.
; “Look,” Kieran said, then waited for the applause to die down. “I know I haven’t been a perfect Captain. I’ve made mistakes. Just like you, I’m a kid doing an adult’s job. Even though there have been problems along the way, I’m confident that I’ve done the best job anyone on this ship could have done.”
Another round of applause. Already the crowd sounded more excited than they had for Sarah’s speech. She sat in the front row, scowling up at Kieran as she gnawed at a fingernail.
“Even more important, we shouldn’t change leaders in the middle of this thing. I’ve been at the job already for several months. I know what’s involved. I understand this ship. To change leadership when we’re under a serious threat could be disastrous, not only for the ship, but for our rescue mission.
“All these are good reasons to elect me to the Captain’s chair,” he said humbly. “But I’ve got one more reason that I think supersedes them all.” He paused for effect, looking out over the crew, who all looked at him, some with skepticism, but most with interest and hope. “No one has my vision for the future of this vessel. I took a bedraggled, dysfunctional crew and got us running this ship. Look at how far we’ve come! But I can’t take credit for it. I believe we’ve been able to rally together because we’ve finally accepted that we have a common purpose. Together we’re building an ethos for our future, and I am honored beyond words to be the instrument for fulfilling our destiny as the creators of the next world.”
Now there was a thoughtful pause before the applause, but when it finally began, it was loud and prolonged. Kieran nodded. He felt certain now that he’d be elected.
The voting took a matter of minutes, with each crew member dropping small ballots in a box. Tallying the votes by three independent counters went quickly, too, and they did the counting right on stage. Sarah watched the process with squinty eyes, casting furious glances in Kieran’s direction. He tried to look confident as he sat in the front row, but he couldn’t stop himself from worrying. What would he do if he were no longer Captain? He wasn’t sure life would have the same meaning for him anymore. He had to win.
You will win, said the voice in the back of his mind.
He sat up straighter. Where was his faith? If he was truly meant to lead the Empyrean to New Earth, the way he believed, then of course he would win. He shouldn’t fear.
When finally the three counters—Harvey Markem, Alia Khadivi, and Melissa Dickinson—approached the microphone, the murmuring conversations in the room died away, and everyone looked at them expectantly.
Harvey cleared his throat, his face bright red under his orange hair. “Sarah Hodges won ninety-one votes. Kieran Alden got one hundred and forty-nine. Kieran Alden is—”
Harvey’s voice got lost in the crackle of applause and cheers. Kieran stood, and the applause rose to a crescendo as he mounted the stairs to the stage and walked to the podium. He couldn’t help smiling. When he looked down at Sarah, she was sitting with her arms crossed over her chest, scowling. Waverly was sitting a few rows behind her, looking unsurprised.
“Thank you, thank you,” he said with a smile, holding up his hands for them to quiet. After a while the cheering died down, and people sat to listen to his speech. “First off, I’d like to thank Waverly Marshall for calling this election.”
Waverly watched him, impassive. If she heard his sarcasm, she didn’t let on.
“I just want you all to know that I’ll continue to lead this ship.…” Some people in the back coughed, and he waited for them to quiet. But then several more kids in the back started coughing, and some of them stood up, their hands covering their faces.
And then they fell down.
His speech forgotten, Kieran watched as the sickness seemed to spread from the back of the audience forward. More and more kids were grimacing, choking, doubling over, tears streaming from their eyes. It moved toward the stage like a wave. “Evacuate!” Kieran cried into the microphone. People in the front rows stared at him blankly. “Evacuate immediately!” he screamed. “Exit through the front doors! There’s some kind of gas! Go!”
It seemed to take hours for them to stand up, look around, see the crew members falling down in the back, grasping at their necks, struggling for breath, before they began to understand.
The auditorium erupted into chaos.
Kieran looked over the crowd, first for Waverly, who was holding two little girls, one on each hip, running awkwardly for the nearest exit. Next he registered Sarah Hodges, who was pulling a little boy behind her, covering her nose and mouth with the collar of her shirt.
Then he saw Arthur.
He was lying on his back, spread-eagled in the middle of the aisle.
Kieran didn’t think. He dove.
He swam through the crowd, pushing against shoulders and sweaty foreheads, fighting through them to get to Arthur. Twenty feet to go. He couldn’t see him through the crowd slamming him backward—an endless stream of terrified, tear-streaked faces rushing at him down the aisle. Kieran felt a horrible, caustic sting in his throat, his eyes, his stomach. And the taste was like orange juice that had sat out too long. He thought he would vomit, but he realized he shouldn’t breathe it in. He clamped his mouth closed, willed himself not to inhale. He plunged against the current of fleeing kids—ten feet more—and he thought he caught a glimpse of yellow hair on the floor. Then he lost Arthur completely, but he walked forward blindly, until he stepped on him.
He reached for Arthur’s hand, missed, then made a desperate swipe again, and this time made contact with his leather belt. Kieran wrapped his fingers around it and pulled until he could get his other arm underneath Arthur’s waist, and then somehow, he didn’t know how, he lifted the boy over his shoulder and began to run.
His lungs ached. It hadn’t been twenty seconds since he started holding his breath, but the strain of carrying Arthur made every muscle in his body cry out for oxygen. He fought the instinct to gulp air, and instead focused his eyes on the door, which was at least seventy feet away. He groped, blinking tears out of his stinging eyes, feeling along a row of seats with his legs until finally the door was in front of him.
He threw his weight against it and staggered into the corridor, which was full of sick kids, coughing kids, crying kids. He limped to the elevator, wheezing, barely able to breathe. His throat felt narrow and swollen, and he felt hemmed in by all the kids who had piled into the elevator with him. By the time the elevator opened to the madness of the infirmary, Kieran’s vision had turned gray. Panicked kids were packed into the waiting area, and there wasn’t a free chair or bed to be had. He gently set Arthur down on the floor and stood up to find Tobin.
He felt a wave of vertigo rise like bile from his stomach.
A loud crack resounded through the crowded room, quieting the crowd as people looked around for the source of the noise. Kieran realized it had been the sound of his own head hitting the metal floor. He hadn’t felt a thing.
THE CENTRAL COUNCIL
The day after the attack, the ship felt eerily quiet as Waverly walked the corridor to Central Command. The crew had been badly scared, and most of them stayed hidden in their quarters, many of them shirking their duties to do so. She still had a sore throat, and her eyes stung from the toxic gas, but she was unscathed compared to some other people. Several kids, including Kieran and Arthur, had been badly affected and were receiving oxygen therapy in the infirmary. Beyond that, few details had been released.
Waverly turned the corner and saw that more graffiti had been added to the walls outside Central Command. There was a drawing of the Central Council, all seven members, and in front of them, on its hands and knees, was a figure Waverly could only assume was meant to be her, looking ready to perform any number of lewd acts.
The first thing she’d do as a Central Council member would be to clean up this damn hallway.
Waverly took a deep breath, made a fist, and knocked on the door of Central Command. She heard the whirring of a video camera, and looked up at the empty
black lens trained on her. Sarek Hassan’s voice crackled through the intercom, “What is it, Waverly?”
“I’d like to use the com system to call a meeting of the Central Council.” This was an excuse. There were other places she could make an announcement from, but she wanted to know what was going on.
There was a brief pause, then the door slid open to Central Command looking dark and empty without Kieran in the Captain’s chair and Arthur in the number-two spot near the portholes. Of the usual command crew only Sarek remained, seated at his spot at the main com board. Matt Allbright, Kieran’s chief henchman, stood behind Sarek, looking over his shoulder at the com screen.
“Who’s doing that graffiti?” Waverly asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Whoever it is wears a black hood over their face,” Sarek said, sounding annoyed by it himself. “Anyway, it’s the least of our worries.”
“Which station should I use for the announcement?” Waverly asked.
Sarek nodded toward the Captain’s chair. She sat down in it, put the headset on, and engaged the system. “Attention Central Council members, this is Waverly Marshall, and I’m calling a meeting. Please report to the council chamber in five minutes.”
She stayed seated and looked across the aisle at the screen that so absorbed Sarek and Matt. It was a view of the corridor outside of the auditorium. They must be looking for video evidence of the terrorist planting the gas.
“Did the cameras capture anything?” Waverly asked.
Sarek jerked his head toward her angrily but seemed to calm down when he saw she was looking at the screen with grave concern. “Not a single image on any camera has ever caught him.”
“He must be disabling them somehow,” she said.
Sarek looked at Matt, whose face was impassive, then grudgingly said, “He is.” He fast-forwarded the image to a completely white screen that lasted for several seconds. “We think he’s shining a laser into the lenses of the cameras as he passes by. We’d seen this white screen several times before we realized what it was.”
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