A Million Suns by Beth Revis Page B

bile taste on the back of my tongue, so I don’t say anything, I just turn back to the screen.
    For several minutes, nothing happens. I watch as a thin trail of condensation leaks from the edge of my glass coffin and drops with a tiny, silent splash on the floor. I’m already melting.
    Suddenly, I don’t want to see this. I don’t want to watch myself wake up. I can’t relive drowning in cryo liquid, gagging on the tubes in my throat. I shut my eyes and turn my face away, even though it will take much, much longer for the me on-screen to melt all the way. But then Elder sucks in a breath of surprise, and my eyes fly back to the screen.
    There’s another shadow there, wider and longer, creeping slowly toward my frozen self. A shaft of light highlights the side of his neck, the part where a spiderweb of scars reaches behind his left ear.
    Orion.
    The first thing he does is slam me back into the cryo freezer. He locks the door shut and turns to leave.
    But then he pauses.
    He stares for a long moment off-screen, in the same direction Elder had walked away in, and he taps his fingers across the top of the cryo chamber, thinking. Then, slowly, deliberately, he pulls me back out of the cryo chamber. He looks down at me for a moment.
    And then he walks away.
    Orion told me that he got the idea to unplug the frozens from watching Elder unfreeze me. And this is it. This is the moment when he realized how easy it would be to kill people who can’t fight back.
    Static fills the screen.
    â€œThat’s why he destroyed the cams in the cryo level,” Elder says.
    That’s one reason, anyway.
    Elder drops the vid screen on my desk and stands. Hair flops into his face, but I can still see his eyes shift to me. Waiting for me to react.
    But I don’t know how to respond. I don’t know how I feel about this. About the way Elder looked at me, about the way Orion didn’t. My brain can’t process this.
    â€œAmy?”
    Elder’s head whips up, panic in his eyes. He wasn’t the one who spoke.
    We both rush to the vid screen on the desk. The static has faded. Orion’s face fills the screen, so close up that the camera must have been just inches from him.
    Before the screen fades to black, Orion’s voice rings out clearly. “Amy? Are you ready for this? Are you ready to find the truth?”

17
    ELDER
    THE SCREEN GOES BLANK. ORION’S LAST QUESTION HANGS IN the air, but the image Amy saw of me pulling her out of the cryo chamber fills her eyes.
    â€œAmy?” I whisper, hesitant.
    She swipes her hand across her face. Her eyes are red.
    â€œAmy?”
    â€œIt doesn’t matter,” she says, her voice cracking in the middle. “What’s done is done.”
    And that’s what kills me inside. Because what’s done was done by
me
. And as much as I wish Amy could see me the way I see her and want me the way I want her, she will never be able to forget the image of me pulling her out of her cryo chamber and walking away. No wonder she doesn’t want to be in the Keeper Level with me.
    I could punch whoever made Amy see this. My fists clench involuntarily. It’s not like I’m so brilly on my own, but I certainly don’t frexing need someone
showing
Amy what a chutz I was! “Who gave you this?” I demand.
    Her clear green eyes meet mine, her voice steady now. “Orion did.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œOrion did. Kind of. I mean, he left the wi-com for me. It has lettering on it, see?” She holds the wi-com out for me. “It’s from a book. The book led me to the painting, the painting led me to . . . this.”
    â€œWhy did he leave messages for you? What’s he playing at?”
    Amy hesitates, then hands me the mem card that was originally attached to the vid screen. When she presses her thumb against the ID box, the video plays. Orion’s voice calls Amy his contingency plan, seeks her aid for a