Glow (30 page)

Max pulled out a small notebook. “Kieran Alden prevented the Empyrean from chasing after the New Horizon, and now we might never find our families. Kieran prevented us from rescuing our parents from the radiation in the engine room, and now Mason Ardvale, Sheldon White, and Mariah Pinjab are all dead, and the others are ill. He damaged the atmospheric controls in his reckless shuttle flight, and we’re alive only because of Seth Ardvale’s quick intervention. Kieran Alden showed countless other instances of incompetent leadership. He is a danger to this ship and everyone on board.”

The words were terrifying, galvanizing. Kieran watched the crowd. Most of the boys looked frightened. Many of the younger ones were crying. Expecting them to rise up against Seth was asking a lot.

“The court calls the first witness, Matt Allbright,” said Seth.

It was a farce. First one boy, then the next, stood right next to Kieran and told bald-faced lies as Sealy and Max pointed guns at them. Kieran tried to listen, looking for a way to defend himself, but he was so tired and in so much pain, it was hard to concentrate, even knowing his life depended on it. After a time, he stopped paying attention to what they were saying and instead tried to form an argument of his own. But his own thoughts proved too tiring, and soon the words faded away, the room faded away. And he just sat there.

It was the silence that finally brought him around again. He looked up to see Seth coming back to the podium, his face grim. “With all this evidence against him, it seems only right to sentence Kieran Alden to death, unless, that is, he is willing to confess to his crimes—”

“Yes!” someone shouted. Kieran looked at the crowd, trying to see who it was. “I want to hear what he has to say for himself!” It was a familiar voice, but Kieran couldn’t place it. Whoever was speaking was hiding in the crowd.

“Yeah!” said Sarek in the front row, his eyes on Kieran. “Let the bastard try to explain himself.”

Kieran looked at Sarek, whose face was carefully neutral. He didn’t know if he was trying to help or not, but he could see this was his chance, because Seth looked at Kieran for the first time, trying to measure him.

“Kieran?” pressed Seth. “Are you ready to confess?”

Kieran nodded. For so long he’d been telling himself he’d confess tomorrow, but he’d run out of tomorrows. If he didn’t make his confession right now, they were going to kill him. Commanding the Empyrean wasn’t worth dying for.

The podium seemed to be a mile away. He couldn’t possibly walk there, could he?

He pivoted on his chair, placed his hand on the back of it, and pushed himself up. His body shuddered, and his knees buckled, but he caught himself and forced his legs to straighten under him. He was standing for the first time in two days, leaning on the chair. He walked around to the back of it until he could reach the podium with his other hand, and he pulled himself over to it. He had to lean on it with almost all his weight, but it held him. He looked at the boys, who had fallen silent.

So many of their faces were cut and bruised, pinched and fearful. If Kieran gave in now, that’s how their lives would be. He didn’t know if he could live with that.

No. He couldn’t give in and confess.

Instead, he searched his mind for something to say.

The truth. That’s what his dad always said. The truth is powerful.

“You don’t hold a gun to the witness’s head in a fair trial,” he croaked into the microphone. His mouth was gummy, his voice a shriveled reed.

“What are you doing?” Seth whispered. “Come on, man. Let’s end this.”

“This trial is based on lies,” Kieran rasped.

“What did he say?” a pubescent boy shouted. “I can’t hear him!”

“He said he’s sorry,” Seth lied. “Sorry for everything he did. So now we forget all this and get him something to eat.”

Kieran shook his head. “That’s not what I said,” he cried. “I won’t confess. You’ll have to kill me.”

The auditorium was silent. Even the littler boys who’d been crying stopped.

Seth shoved Kieran aside and took the podium. Kieran tilted on his feet, tried to catch himself, and fell to the ground.

“The court sentences Kieran Alden to public execution,” Seth announced. “Take him to the shuttle bay,” he told Sealy.

The boy stared at Seth, frozen.

“Come on!” Seth shouted impatiently.

“But—” Sealy’s eyes were on Kieran.

This is it,
Kieran thought. He was afraid, but he would not close his eyes. If they were going to kill him, they should see his eyes. He stared at Sealy, waiting.

“Goddamn it,” Seth yelled. “Max! Get him out of here!”

But Max couldn’t move. “I didn’t think we were going to kill anybody,” he said finally.

“It’s not your job to
think,
Max!” Seth bolted toward Max, reaching for his gun.

Kieran was closer to Max than Seth was. He couldn’t fight, but he could tip himself over. He hit Max in the knees, and the boy toppled over, his gun rattling to the floor. Kieran used the last of his strength to lunge at the weapon and cover it with his body.

“Goddamn it, you bastard!” Seth cried. “Why won’t you give up?”

Seth pummeled Kieran with both fists, spit flying from his mouth. Kieran held on, enduring Seth’s blows, holding Max’s gun to his chest. He was either going to live or die. Live or die. He wanted to live to see Waverly again, so he filled his lungs with air and he screamed, “Help me!”

Suddenly Seth’s weight was gone. Sarek was pulling him back in a choke hold. Seth clawed at Sarek and kicked at Kieran, until a boy of about seven wrapped himself around one of Seth’s legs. Another, even younger, grabbed on to Seth’s other leg. Soon Seth was surrounded by a swarm of boys, all of them screaming furiously for a piece of him.

The crowd was electrified. A dozen fights broke out. Some boys tried to defend Seth and his guards, but they were overwhelmed by sheer numbers. A pile of boys mobbed Sealy, took his gun, and dragged him down. Max tried to make a break for the door, but a large boy of twelve tackled him and he fell hard.

It was over.

The round, freckled face of Arthur Dietrich appeared before Kieran. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Kieran beckoned him closer. “Throw them in the brig. Gather all the guns and bring them to me.”

Arthur fought his way through the crowd around Seth and yelled something at Sarek. Then Kieran saw something wonderful: Sarek, helped by eight other boys, dragged the snarling Seth out of the auditorium.

“You’ll regret this!” he screamed at Kieran before they carried him away.

Meanwhile, Arthur had gotten the guns and brought them to Kieran.

“Take out the casings,” Kieran told him, and watched his clumsy fingers work the mechanisms. A boy brought him a grav bag full of water, and he sipped at it eagerly. Arthur held up the ammunition casings for Kieran to see. “Okay. Now hide them where no one can find them, Arthur. Hide all the guns.”

Nearly tripping over his own feet, Arthur hurried off with the weapons.

“Kieran, are you okay?” Little Matthew Chelembue touched Kieran’s cheek with concern.

Kieran smiled. “Bring me some food.”

RECOVERY

For the first few days, Kieran could only sip broth and eat bread. He lay on a cot in Central Command, trying to answer questions about how to clean the air filters or how many chickens to kill for dinner, but most of the time he dozed.

As soon as he could sit up on his own, he watched the vid console that showed the cell where Seth, Sealy, and Max were locked up. Seth paced like a caged animal. Max was sullen. Sealy was quiet but watchful. If Seth ever figured out that Sealy had helped Kieran, he’d be in real danger. Maybe he could get Sealy out of there to a cell of his own where he’d be safe.

He put the thought aside. Sealy had been the one who broke Matthew Perkins’s arm. He claimed it was an accident, but Kieran thought it was only right that he serve some time in the brig, at least until Kieran had a better take on the political situation. The three ringleaders had caused complete havoc in their monthlong dominion over the ship, and many of the boys resented them fiercely. But Kieran suspected there might be an undercurrent of sympathy for Seth among the boys. At times he felt that he was being watched by unkind eyes. He’d have to take control of the ship with a firm hand to make sure Seth didn’t rise to power again.

“I’m glad you’re back,” Arthur Dietrich said one night. He and Kieran were becoming good friends, and they often talked late into the night after everyone else had gone to bed. Arthur hugged his mug of hot chocolate to his middle.

“Hot chocolate always reminds me of my mom,” Kieran said softly.

Arthur looked at him sharply. The boys had adopted an unspoken policy not to mention parents, or the girls, or anything from their past lives. It was one way of surviving. But tonight, Kieran wanted to remember. “She always put lots of cocoa into it, and a splash of goat’s milk. Made it creamy.”

“I like mine dark,” Arthur said.

“Where were your parents during the attack?” Kieran asked.

“I’m not sure. Dad was probably in the granaries. Mom might have been in her garden, or…” Arthur looked into his mug. “That’s the hardest part. I don’t know what happened to them, and there’s no one to ask.”

“I think my dad’s dead,” Kieran said, surprised at himself. It wasn’t something he’d allowed himself to think, and he just said it, as though he’d been certain all along.

“Really?” Arthur asked gently.

“Both my parents were in the starboard shuttle bay.” Kieran realized he’d never told this to anyone. “I saw Mom get on a shuttle, but…”

Arthur gazed out the porthole, and Kieran wondered if they were thinking the same thing: All those people were still out there, twirling in the cold darkness.

Kieran sank into silence, and Arthur sipped his cocoa quietly.

“You know, Kieran,” Arthur finally said, “Seth did try to kill you.”

“You don’t think that was a bluff?”

“It might have started out as a bluff, but I’m not sure it would have ended as one.”

Kieran squirmed in his seat. He didn’t like talking about that day.

“All I’m saying is … he’s still dangerous.”

“Yes, he is, and most of the boys know it.”

“Some of them want to break him out,” Arthur said, his cornflower blue eyes on Kieran. “If that happens, Seth could do a lot of damage.”

“That’s why we have to make sure he doesn’t get out.”

“You should let me get the guns from where I hid them.”

“No guns,” Kieran said, so firmly that the words raised a cough in his throat.

“We don’t know what will happen,” Arthur warned.

“True, but we can’t act like Seth. The only thing that proves we’re right is that we
don’t
act like him.”

“You found a way out of the brig. He will, too.”

“Maybe.” Arthur could be right, unless Kieran could bring Seth’s supporters around. “Who do you think is against me?”

Arthur thought hard about the question and wrote down ten names. At the top of the list was Tobin Ames, the boy who had planned to go down to the engine room to get his mother.

“Why don’t you send Tobin up to speak to me?” Kieran said.

“Are you sure?”

“I want to try talking to him.” He’d created this rift with Seth by ignoring him. He would try a different tactic with Tobin.

Tobin always reminded Kieran of a hedgehog, with coarse brown hair that stood on end, a rounded frame, and a shifting gaze. He looked sleepy when he approached Kieran’s cot. “Did Arthur wake you?”

“I was watching over my mom,” the boy said sullenly.

“How is she?” Kieran asked, keeping his voice low because he knew it made him seem wiser, calmer, more adult.

“She’s not too good,” Tobin snapped. “If you had let us go down—”

“We would all be dead. You know why we couldn’t go down there, Tobin. The only way to rescue them was the way we did it. Ask your mom.”

“I would…” The boy’s sentence trailed off.

So she was unconscious. She might be dying. They all might die.

“I didn’t call you up here to debate the past,” Kieran said, trying to sound as patient as he could. “I need a chief medical officer, and I hear that you’ve been poring over the instructional videos, learning a lot.”

“I’ve had to! They didn’t just have radiation sickness. They had decompression sickness, and cuts, and abrasions…”

“I’m putting you in charge of the infirmary,” Kieran said. “Choose three capable men to be your crew, and start training them.”

Tobin was so surprised that he lost his voice for a moment. “To do what?”

“Assist you. Arthur has taken inventory of the granaries, and the corn is almost ripe. We’re going to have to harvest soon. That means boys running equipment, working hard. There will be injuries. We need to be ready.”

Kieran didn’t add that the infirmary was the area where Tobin was least likely to do him political damage. If the boy took the job seriously, he wouldn’t have time to organize an uprising.

Tobin left the meeting that night looking confused, but he did assign three of his friends to help in the infirmary, and the four of them spent hours every day training themselves using instructional videos and the vast medical encyclopedia.

When Kieran felt well enough to walk, the infirmary was the first place he went. There were medications littering the cabinets and empty oxygen tanks on the floors, but all the patients had fresh sheets, and they seemed well cared for, even if they were still horribly weak.

Eight. Only eight adults left.
Please God, don’t let any more die,
Kieran prayed.

He sat next to Victoria Hand’s cot and searched her swollen face for signs of consciousness. She was the only remaining medical person on board, and they needed her badly. “Has she spoken?” he asked her son, Austen, who sat in a chair by her bed.

“Not today,” the boy said. He looked ghostly, with his light blond hair and pale, sallow skin. “She was awake yesterday.”

“Has she been able to help you guys? Give you any advice?”