Secret Value of Zero, The (10 page)

Power radiated from these people. Nobody would mess with them. Unlike Meke.
 

Soldiers whirled their swords so quickly that all Meke could see was a blur of silver. Meke longed to hold one of these swords, feel its weight in her hands. What was it like, Meke wondered, to be able to wield a weapon like that?

The best swordsman by far was Trove. In close combat, a simple lean from him would make an opponent stumble backwards. Many would scramble away from him, but it never lasted long. With one lunge, he could unarm almost anyone. A rare man or woman proved fast enough to avoid the devastating flick of Trove’s sword.
 

His skill didn't go unnoticed. Men and women crowded around him, looking up at him. Their eyes glimmered with something that Meke almost couldn’t name since she didn’t recognize it:
respect.
She wished that she could touch it and take it for herself.

Trove glanced up and saw Meke. She froze, not knowing what to do, then she stiffened, expecting him to dismiss her. Instead, confusion passed on his face. The cloud passed, and he just waved. Meke waved back and left.
 

AFTER A few days’ absence, Arya trudged into the room. She let her bag drop next to her feet, her eyes glazed over. When Arya slumped into a chair, she glanced at Meke.

“Hello.” Arya’s wave barely reached shoulder-level.

“What happened?” Meke asked.

“We were on a mission to destroy a power station near the military headquarters.” Her gaze fell to the floor. “Somehow they knew we were coming and the five of us were lucky to make it out alive. Five out of thirty.”

“I’m sorry,” Meke said. These words gave hollow comfort, but Meke couldn’t do any better.

Arya’s body slumped, a strange sight for a woman who always seemed taller than her short stature. “I just don’t know what to do. It—” she inhaled deeply. “I gave up a lot for this, you know? I just want to see it go through. Everything that everyone has worked for… it can’t be lost.”

Meke remained silent. It unnerved her, seeing Arya slouched over and unsure. For a brief second, Meke wanted to do it—submit to the doctors for Arya—but remembered the sacrifice. She would hate herself afterwards. Arya rubbed her eyes. “I know what you’ve lost, Meke. I know that. A lot of people have lost something here too. I lost my son and husband. And I have to live with that.”

“You had a son and husband?” Meke asked, wishing that she had known.

Arya nodded, her eyes growing watery. “Yes, that’s why I’m in this damned thing. When my son was born, I knew something was wrong with him right away. I had to hold his neck up all the time. He couldn’t keep himself straight even when he got older. Then he started having seizures.” Arya rubbed her eyes and looked at Meke, her brown eyes shimmering. “He was still my boy. I hid him from the doctors because I knew he’d become a Zero. I didn’t want that for my child. But Rambert, my husband, took him to a doctor once when I was out. I never saw my son again, Rambert had promised me that he wouldn’t—“ she closed her eyes. “Rambert believed everything Prosperon said. He was ashamed of our son. ‘I can’t be a father of a Zero,’ he said. He even accused me of cheating on him. I—I,” Arya’s finger shook as she pointed toward herself, “had to leave. So, that’s when I found others. Others like me. Others who thought that we shouldn’t do that to Zeroes or anyone.” Arya grimaced. “There’s nothing like a mother’s love for her child. I suppose you’d know, too.”

“How would I know?”
 

“I haven’t told you enough, have I?” Arya leaned back and closed her eyes. “At the institution, I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t. I knew your mother. That’s why I volunteered.”

“But that means that she was—” Meke let her hands fall away.

“A revolutionary? Yes, she was. She did it for you. She wanted something better for you. So did your father.”

“What did they do? They were no fighters.”

“We’re not all fighters. What you see here is only a small part of the whole revolution. Your mother worked at the Greens’ house. They were the most powerful Stars in Vigorton. Your mother fed us information. Your father worked at a GE plant so he would give us some supplies and food.”

Meke sighed. Her mother always disappeared at odd times, refusing to tell her where she had been. She would say the oddest things, about how Meke would one day make something of herself. About how the world would be better for Meke one day.

“Truly? They were revolutionaries?” Meke already knew the answer, but she still questioned it anyway.
 

“Yes, they were. They wanted this revolution to succeed. That’s why we need your help.”

Meke stiffened. “The doctors, you mean.”

“Please understand. What they did to you was wrong, but you can turn that into something to help us.” Arya looked upwards.

“Arya, please don’t.”

Arya sighed and got up. “I know. I’m sorry for asking, but the revolution is close to being finished. I can feel it. But I’m not sure which way it’ll finish. I’ve worked so hard—well, I guess that doesn’t matter.” Arya smiled a sad smile. “Good night.” And she went to sleep, curled up in the fetal position.
 

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So, her parents had been revolutionaries. Now, Meke wondered if the plant had even collapsed at all. She put her head between her knees, making Tooth growl and scamper off.
 

Her parents had fought for something better for
he
r. This changed something in Meke’s body, in her brain. She wanted that something better for herself too. But how? She couldn’t do what Sterling and Arya asked her to do. That wouldn’t truly be doing anything except sit there and allow others to examine her.
 

Meke needed to do something.
 

When Meke had her fill of thinking—and her stomach rumbled—she trudged off to dinner as unsure as before. When she arrived in the dining hall, she saw Cecil, Theria, Trove and Gladys sitting at a table. Meke realized that she hadn’t seen Cecil in weeks. Now she saw why. If it was even possible, Cecil looked grayer and thinner. Despite his state, he tried to smile. His efforts failed; his smile faded into a grimace.
 

“What’s the matter with Cecil?” Meke asked Gladys.

Gladys shook her head. “We don’t know. The doctors don’t know. Cecil says that his head hurts. Every sound hurts him.”

Cecil rubbed his ears and flinched constantly. As thin as he was, his neck muscles protruded as he tried to still his head.
 

Meke remembered the early days with her sense. Her headaches obliterated any other sense other than her vision. Images had swallowed her whole. Perhaps Cecil felt the same way. The sight of Cecil’s hands trembling reminded her of the night that she had conquered her vision. Cecil probably couldn't anchor his hearing like she focused her vision. “Gladys, can you ask Cecil if he has tried to open up his mind to all sounds?”

Gladys squinted in confusion as she said these words. Cecil tilted his head as he heard Gladys’ words. “No. I don’t understand,” Cecil said.

Meke stared at her hands, trying to put the words together properly. “My vision also gave me headaches, but once I opened myself up to everything, I was able to make room in my brain for other things.” Meke closed her eyes, remembering. “If you allow your brain to find its focus, your brain will find room for everything, even your thoughts.”

“I still don’t understand.”

Meke tried again. “I let my brain relax. I just let myself see everything,” Meke said, hoping for the best.

Cecil shrugged. “I’ll try it,” he said, shoulders slumped.

A few moments passed with everyone watching Cecil. At first, nothing happened and his face remained drawn. Suddenly, his head jerked up and his face relaxed.

“It works.” His mouth moved in these words as his face went slack. A slow smile spread on his face. After ten minutes of Cecil describing the wonders of what he heard, both Cecil and Theria got up and left in wonderment.

“How did you know to do that?” Gladys asked.

“Well, I did it before, and I thought that it would also work for Cecil.”

Gladys shook her head. “But, how did you know what to do? You know, then?” she asked.

Meke thought the night, about her exhaustion and hopelessness. “I got tired, I guess. It takes a lot of energy to fight it, and I got sick of it,” Meke said.

Gladys shook her head, still uncomprehending.
 

Trove, long forgotten by the two women, got up from the table. He nodded at her and with clear precision, his lips formed the words good job. He bade his good-byes and disappeared into a hallway. Meke tracked Trove, feeling his figure wind through the hallways. What a strange man, Meke thought, not for the first time. She ignored the small happiness that his compliment gave her.

“He’s so good at swords. He’s smart too,” Gladys said, frowning a bit.

Meke shrugged, “I suppose.”

“Both you and Trove are so much smarter than me. You read and write so good, while I…”

Meke squirmed. Part of that skill came from Doctor Ball for reasons unknown. She wanted these thoughts far away.
“Don’t feel bad,” Meke managed to say. “People don’t exactly think I’m worth anything. Especially now that I won’t go to the doctors.”

“You don’t want the doctors to touch you?”

“That’s right, I don’t.”

Gladys nodded. “I don’t know if I could’ve done that. Say no.” Then Gladys looked away.

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Meke had to consciously slow her steps into a normal rhythm. People thought her odd enough already. Running through the hallways wouldn’t help her reputation. Meke laughed at that thought. What reputation? Despite all of the words they threw around, Meke doubted that Zeroes would ever amount to much, even in a post-revolutionary world. Only Squares, Fivers and Stars walked by her in a uniform. That hadn’t been what her parents wanted. Her parents had wanted her to become something, someone whom others would look up to. All Meke was doing now was sitting around, watching things pass her by.
 

Gladys found her worth at the nursery and the plant room. Meke tried to imagine herself in the nursery room, prodding children into adulthood, coaxing plants into fruition. No, children unnerved Meke. They ran about, no rhyme or reason to their behavior. Plants? She needed something that made her limbs move. Her body hated the strange stillness and idleness. Not only did children and plants bore Meke, but others looked at Gladys the same way that they looked at Meke. Their eyes would drift over the plump figure as if she didn’t exist.
 

She kept on walking, forgetting her previous resolution to walk slowly.

Meke stopped as she reached the doorway to the training room. She knew what lay inside, but she still wanted to see it with her own eyes.

Most of the soldiers lingered at the dining hall or the Nerve Center, sated after a full day of practicing, but a woman stood in the middle of an empty room, several knives in hand. Triangles shone from the woman’s hands. Meke frowned. Most soldiers were Squares or Fivers. The few rebel Equis occupied non-military ranks: cooks, nursery keepers, servers and maintenance. Rebellion didn’t excuse one from regular lavatory duties. This Equi flung her knives at the target. Several missed, but the misses got closer to the target every time.
 

Meke leaned at the doorway, feeling how the air currents rippled out from the knives’ spins. The woman’s face tightened in concentration as she practiced. Meke backed out of the room, not wanting to disturb the Equi, yet she loved watching her. Something about her focused eyes and set mouth buoyed Meke’s spirits.

Suddenly, she knew what she had to do. She would become something better, just as her parents wanted. No longer would she be weak.

Meke strolled back to her room, smiling.

MEKE FOUND herself standing, once again, in front of Sterling’s door. The door loomed larger today. The wait would probably be long. Meke hadn’t made an appointment.

She could feel Sterling and three others in the room, their figures standing stiffly around the desk, ignoring the chairs behind them. Sterling sat back in his chair, rubbing his chin. The two men and one woman all stood with their hands clasped behind their backs.
 

Meke straightened her back and told herself that she had nothing to lose. If Sterling said no, nothing would change. Her throat hurt at that thought. She exhaled slowly, feeling her body loosen.

When the door opened and the soldiers left, surprise registered on Sterling’s face. Friendliness immediately replaced his shock. He smiled and waved her in. Moments after he whispered into his handheld, Arya entered the room. She smiled and squeezed Meke’s shoulder as she passed.

“How can I help you?” Sterling asked.
 

With a slight exhale, she reviewed the script that she had written in her mind. “I want to help.”

Sterling smiled. “Excellent, I’ll speak to the doctors.”
 

Meke’s hands tripped over themselves as she signed. “No, no. No doctors. I want to be a soldier. A proper one.”

Sterling’s head snapped up. “Soldier? But…” he shook his head and cleared his throat. “Why? You can contribute in other ways.”

Meke thrust out her chin, willing herself not to waver. “I want to contribute by being a soldier.”

“You can contribute by working with our doctors. Figure out the secret to your abilities.” Sterling turned his palms out. “You’d give us an immense advantage.”

Meke pressed her lips together. She couldn’t do that ever again, open up her body like that. She shook her head. “I can’t. I won’t.”

Sterling sighed. The stillness became too much for Meke. She blurted out, “The revolution isn’t going that well is it? Prosperon is one step ahead of you every time. You just lost twenty-five soldiers.” Arya flinched, but her eyes stayed steady. “I could help. I would see any traps before soldiers walk into them.”