They are your responsibility. You can never show weakness in front of them: you are their strength. You can never let them see you in despair: you are their hope. You must always be everything to everyone on board.” He takes a deep breath. “And that includes not panicking and throwing an entire level of the ship into lockdown!”

“I thought the ship had been exposed,” I say.

Eldest stares at me. “And you put the ship into lockdown.”

Does he have to remind me of that? I’m a frexing idiot, I get it.

“While you were still here.” His voice is different now. Calmer. I meet his eyes, and I see something in them I’ve never seen before.

Pride.

“You were going to sacrifice yourself to save the ship,” he says.

I shrug. “It was stupid. Sorry.”

“No.” Eldest drawls out the word. “Well, yes, it was stupid. But it was also noble. That took courage, boy. That took leadership. To be willing to sacrifice yourself for the rest of the ship? Shows you think. You thought about how the Keeper Level’s on top, didn’t you? That if the Keeper Level was exposed to space, the explosive decompression would affect the level below it, and the one below that. You thought before you acted. You thought of all the people below.”

I look away. Maybe it had been noble, but all I can see is how the stars aren’t real.

“I’m sorry,” Eldest says. When he sees my confused look, he adds, “I’ve ignored you. It’s my fault. You reminded me of the other Elder, and we… did not get along. When I trained him, I told him too much, too soon. And he acted foolishly, selfishly. But you’re different. I forget that you’re different, but you are.”

Eldest has my full attention now. I know perfectly well there had been another Elder, one between me and Eldest. He died before I was born, but Eldest never talked much about him before.