He raises a long, bony black finger and wags it side to side.
“Oh no-no-no, Miss Savage. You won’t get me to laugh again, no matter how funny you are. What happened? Some people do not approve of being sacrificed.”
I look at Bishop; he shrugs. Brewer is talking in riddles and I’m getting tired of listening to him.
I feel Aramovsky’s hand on my shoulder again, gently pushing me aside so he has room to speak.
“The bodies,” he says. “The adults, the children…they were sacrifices?”
I don’t like the way Aramovsky speaks that word, so breathy and excited.
“Not all,” Brewer says. “Many, yes. Many more chose to not go gentle into that good night. For twenty years, this ship shuddered from war. A war to liberate those that did not need to be liberated. And in the end, they’re all dead anyway.”
War. Revolt. Sacrifice. The Grownups did this to themselves. It has nothing to do with us. If we stay here, we’ll wind up like them—butchered and burned, our flesh turned to powdery dust.
“Brewer, how do we get down to that planet?”
“You fly,” the monster says. “Fly-fly-fly, a rocket in the sky. Down there you can start over and never-ever-never worry your pretty perfect little heads about the real cost of your trip, about the sins of those who came before you. To get down there, you need a special ship, a shuttle. And oh, irony of ironies, as big as the Xolotl is, only one shuttle remains.”
A shuttle. The word calls up a flash of memory—a long ship with wings. It will take us away from here. We can go where we were meant to go, and, maybe, leave these monsters behind forever.
“One shuttle,” I say. “Does that mean if we take it, your kind can’t follow us down there?”
Two gnarled hands rise up, slowly clap together.
“You understand what the word one means,” he says. “And people said that Matilda Savage was stupid. Correct, my kind can’t follow you, but you can also never come back.”
I fight to stay calm. If he’s telling the truth—and I have no way of knowing that he is or isn’t—we can leave this nightmare behind.
“Tell me where the shuttle is.”
Brewer sighs, a chest-puffing thing that rattles the black folds hiding his mouth.
“Long, long ago, during the revolt, I sealed your chambers off from the Mutineers. I had machines destroy corridors, cut away floors, even melt doors to your area.”
I think about the first intersection we found, back when our long walk began. The black wall that looked like frozen ice. Brewer did that? To keep us safe?
“Why did you protect us? You say I killed you, yet you keep talking about how you kept us alive. Why would you do that?”
Brewer doesn’t answer immediately. We wait, long enough that I’m not sure he heard me. I’m about to repeat the question when he finally speaks.
“I’ve asked myself that a million times,” he says. His eyes have calmed down to a pale red. “Sometimes it is because I hope that I can change the way things work, even though I know that is impossible. Sometimes it is for revenge. Sometimes it is because if all of you die, who will I have to keep me company? These reasons and more, but looking at you now…maybe it is none of them. Perhaps the real reason is because I’ve known all along that you were made for the planet below. A millennium’s worth of lies leads to a single truth—the future belongs to the young, if the old would kindly die and get the hell out of the way.”
I’m not entirely sure what all of that means. I latch onto one part of it.
“We were made to be down there,” I say. “You’re right. I can feel it. Let us do that, Brewer. Let us go where we belong. Tell us where the shuttle is.”
“Ah, yes, the shuttle,” he says. “Fly fly fly, like a rocket in the sky. For centuries they have tried to get to you, and for centuries I have stopped them. Sadly, Miss Savage, when I sealed you in, the shuttle was sealed out. You will have to go to the Mutineers’ section and take it. And while you’re there, see if you can find your Bello, because that is where she’ll be.”
Bishop takes in a sharp breath of surprise. “You think she’s still alive?”
“Perhaps,” Brewer says. “Although I suppose that depends on your definition of the word.”
More riddles. I wish this thing would give us straight answers.
According to Brewer, our way off the Xolotl is to go where these “Mutineer” monsters are. We will have to face the things that attacked us, that took Bello.
Bello…could we get her back and get out of here?
I glance at Bishop, wondering if he’s thinking the same thing. His chin is at his chest. He’s staring at Brewer’s image from beneath furrowed brows. If there is any chance to get Bello back, Bishop is ready to take it.
Knowing he is with me gives me strength. I stand tall once again.