Across the Universe by Beth Revis

sound pops in my ear, which isn’t too bad on its own, but each burble is punctuated by a short high-pitched eep! that makes me jump a little with surprise every other second.
    The elevator doors slide open and we step into the common room.
    “The noise will stop as soon as you enter the Learning Center prepared to learn and listen,” Eldest says pleasantly. He pushes his wi-com again. “Command: increase intensity to level four.” The sounds grow louder. Eldest smiles at me. Then he turns and strolls out of the common room toward Doc’s office.
    I try sticking my finger down my ear, but it’s no good. The wi-com is wired directly into my eardrum. Something that sounds like glass shattering over a crowing rooster crackles in my ear.
    “Nice flowers.”
    “Orion?” Any surprise at seeing the Recorder here in the Ward is replaced by the cacophony vibrating through my left ear. I’d even forgotten the flowers clutched in my right hand. Green plant blood oozes between my fingers from broken stems.
    “I needed to get more supplies.” Orion shakes a small plastic bottle, and pills rattle inside it. He must have swiped them. No one’s supposed to have a store of mental meds—even if you don’t live in the Ward, the Inhibitors are delivered daily, one pill at a time.
    “Don’t want Eldest or Doc to catch me.” Orion pockets the pills.
    I clap one hand over my ear in a feeble attempt to stifle the noise, but it’s no good.
    Orion smiles grimly. “That old trick. There’s no point trying to stop the noise. It’ll just get worse the longer it goes.” He watches as I beat my fist against my ear. “Just do whatever he told you to do, or you’ll go mad from it.”
    “How do you know?” The words come out harsh and angry, but only because I am having such a hard time concentrating on anything beyond the braying in my ear.
    “I just wanted to give you a bit of advice—there’s no point in standing up directly to Eldest. Won’t work. He’s an old king, too used to power. You can’t face him directly. You’ll have to be a bit sneakier than that.” Orion tucks a piece of his long, straggly hair behind his ear, and I notice again the spiderweb white scars creeping down the left side of his neck, as if his flesh had been ripped open and the pieces didn’t quite fit back together again.
    “I’ll do what I want,” I say as I push past him, one hand clutching my ear.
    I stagger across the common room. When I pass Harley, I knock into his canvas as another high-pitched tone starts an unnatural staccato in my ear, throwing me off balance.
    “Elder?” he asks, jumping up in concern.
    I ignore him as I open the hall door and head toward Amy’s room. I’m going to give her these frexing flowers if it kills me. I won’t let Eldest push me around.
    “What’s wrong?” Harley’s followed me. He leaves a koi-colored hand-print on my arm as he reaches for me, but I shake him off.
    I stop at Amy’s room and knock on the door.
    No answer.
    “What are you doing here?” There’s a hitch in Harley’s voice that I notice through the loud crowing that’s started up in my left ear. I remember now—this was his former girlfriend’s room before it was given to Amy.
    “A new res,” I say, wincing. My voice sounds loud to my pained ear.
    Harley puts his hand to the wall, leaving behind a smear of orange-yellow on the matte white finish. No one will care; it’s just another mark of many. Ever since Harley moved into the Ward permanently, spots of color follow him everywhere he goes, like a trail of rainbows.
    The wi-com is doing its best to distract me—the sounds and tones are cycling through at a dizzying pace. Part of me wants to bash my head against the door, just to make the noise stop. It’s driving me insane, the sort of insane that Doc’s mental meds can’t fix. My left hand grips my ear so hard that blood trickles between my fingers—I’m afraid I’ll rip it off. Instead, I punch the wall with my