A Million Suns Read Online Free PDF Page A

hoping for some hint that this isn’t true, but the grim set of Marae’s jaw is evidence enough for me.
    Oh,
frex
. How am I going to tell Amy
this?
    â€œHow long have we been stopped?” My voice rises. I sound like a tantrum-throwing child, but I can’t help it.
    â€œWe’re . . . not sure. For some time. Maybe since the Plague.” Marae bites her lip.
    â€œThere was no Plague,” I say automatically. She knows this; she’s just used to calling the mutiny that happened so many gens ago the Plague, perpetuating the lie the Eldest system is based on.
    Behind me, the ship’s heartbeat continues:
whirr-churn-whirr
. “How can we not be moving?” I ask. “The engine is still working.” Even to me, I sound desperate, a child refusing to believe the fairy tales aren’t real.
    â€œWe’ve been diverting energy since the Eldest system began, actually. We need it for the internal function of the ship. The solar lamp alone isn’t strong enough anymore.”
    I force myself to meet Marae’s eyes. “So where are we?”
    Marae shakes her head, thrown off by my question. “What do you mean?”
    â€œHow far away are we from Centauri-Earth? If we’ve been stopped for . . . for so long, then our projected planet-landing is . . . inaccurate, to say the least. So, how far away are we?”
    â€œWe don’t know,” Marae says. “We cannot be concerned with planet-landing now. We have to hold
Godspeed
together.”
    The authority in her tone—the way
she
has given
me
an order—claws up my spine. “Here’s what we’re going to do,” I command. “One of you will be assigned to navigation. Exclusively. If we know how far away we are, we’ll know how big a fix we need to do on the engine. Maybe we can make the ship limp along, long enough to reach the planet. Maybe eventually we’ll have to discuss more drastic measures.” I level my gaze on Marae. “But we
are
going to focus more on making this ship actually reach Centauri-Earth.”
    Second Shipper Shelby opens her mouth to speak, but Marae throws her hand up first to stop her. “I’ll do it myself,” she says, “but first, we want to make a
request
of you.”
    The way she says “request” makes it feel much more like a demand, but I nod anyway.
    â€œWe want the Feeders to be put back on Phydus.”
    My hand slips into my pocket. For a moment, I wonder if Marae knows that I’ve carried the wires from the Phydus machine with me every day since Amy ripped them out three months ago.
    â€œNo,”
I say, firmly, as much to myself as to them.
    â€œIt wouldn’t be hard to fix the Phydus machine,” Marae says. “In fact, Second Shipper Shelby has already done a preliminary repair report—”
    Marae holds her hand out, and Shelby gives her another floppy already flashing with a mechanical diagram.
    I glance down at the floppy. It would be an easy fix. An easy fix—and an easy solution. A little bit of Phydus—maybe not even as much as Eldest used before . . . we could eliminate a lot of the conflicts we’re having . . . get people back to working without fuss . . .
    â€œNo,” I say adamantly, my voice low. “We’re not using the pumps.”
    â€œIt doesn’t have to be through the pumps,” Marae says. “Doc’s been working on some med patches for us using the Phydus compound.”
    I cut her off. “No one
needs
Phydus.”
    Marae’s lips tighten. She reaches across me and swipes her finger across the top of the floppy. The mechanical diagrams are replaced with a line chart. “Productivity decreased by ten percent the first week the Feeders were off Phydus. It’s down to nearly thirty percent now, and there seems to be no indication that it will rise again.” She offers me the