Secret Value of Zero, The (15 page)

Meke and Trove stopped in the middle of a small meadow where the sun shone brightly, turning the grass yellow-green.
 

“So how should we do this?” he asked.

“I thought you were the one with all of the answers,” Meke said.

“I wish.”

“You’re a Fiver.”

“Doesn’t mean much right now, does it? Any ideas?”

Meke considered it for a few moments. “Why don’t you just walk out as far as possible and I’ll tell you when I don’t feel you anymore?”

Trove knitted his brows together. “Feel?”
 

Meke felt a heat crawling up her neck. She had begun to think of it as feeling, rather than seeing a long time ago. The idea of putting such a
sensation
into words seemed impossible. But she had promised him that she would tell him, so she tried. “Well, other than what I can actually see,” Meke gestured toward the meadow, “With my regular vision—I feel things.” Trove looked at the meadow, then looked back at her, face blank. “I can’t quite explain it in a way that you can understand, but I know the shapes of things.” She pointed westward. “I can tell that there is a big tree with a gnarled trunk. But I can’t tell what color it is,” Meke said.
 

A strange sense of relief settled into Meke’s chest, slowing her heartbeat. Meke had never talked to anyone about her sense before. It seemed too dangerous, but at this very moment, it didn’t feel dangerous at all.

Trove had begun walking around the meadow and peering into the trees. “So you sense the shape of things. Do you sense the distance between you and the objects?”

Taking a moment to think, Meke nodded. “Yes, I can figure out the distance. Not as in meters precisely, but I can tell where to aim,” Meke said. “I can even sense the wind moving in the air.”

“Wind.” He put up his hand to feel the gentle breeze. “That’s why you’re so good at the crossbow,” Trove said.

Meke shrugged.

Trove tilted his head, studying her. “How about if there are a lot of different things clustered together?” He pointed at a dense gathering of trees. “Like these trees?”

“It’s harder,” Meke said. “It can get confusing.” Meke kept on talking about what she could do. Some things she had a harder time seeing through, like soil. Shapes grew fuzzy and imprecise the more things stood between her and the shape. Trove asked her questions that she had never thought about before like what kind of movements she could feel and what she couldn’t. As Trove asked even more questions, Meke started to feel like she was still sitting in that stark room in the institution. The image of Doctor Ball flashed in her mind and Meke clasped her hands together.
 

“No more questions,” Meke said. “I’ve had enough.”

“What?” Trove raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“I’m not an experiment. Let’s measure our range and go back.”

Trove blinked once. “Oh. I’m sorry—” he shook his head, “—It was just so interesting.”

“I’m not a science project. It’s not interesting.” Meke said, scowling.

“No, it is. Actually, you are, too. It’s all,” he smiled, “pretty fascinating. I was trying to figure out how it worked.”

“I’m not an experiment.” Meke held her arms tight around her and looked away.
 

“I didn’t mean it like that, Meke. I was just curious. I—” Trove looked down. “Well, I suppose we should get to the running part.”

Trove gave Meke an extra handheld before he went jogging off into the forest. As he disappeared into the trees, Meke wondered why she felt badly for apparently hurting the man’s feelings. He had been asking too many questions, Meke told herself. After twenty minutes of feeling guilty, Meke found out that her range was three kilometers.

MEKE SLID into a chair in the far corner of the dining hall. Gladys was busy with some project for the children. The table was bare, except for Meke and her plate. Meke scanned the bustling room full of moving bodies in black. Some huddled while murmuring. Others leaned back and chortled at an unheard joke.
 

The longer Meke sat, the heavier the air became. Meke thought that she could feel the heat waves emanating from the other soldiers. Her hair stuck to the nape of her neck, sticky with sweat. Meke chewed as fast as she could so she could escape. Now that she had been at the Barracks for months, nobody took note of her. She didn’t think it would feel worse, but it did. Now others didn’t merit her even a glance.

Except for one person. She frowned when she saw Trove moving toward her. His large frame made the tables and chairs look like something from Gladys’ nursery. When Trove dumped himself into a chair in front of her, Meke winced.

“Surely, the company of an idiot isn’t that bad.” Trove said.

Meke looked down at her plate, studying the soil-grown food. She didn’t think she could go back to the GE food. This food made her feel better, faster and stronger. Despite herself, a smile tugged at her mouth.

“Do you need something? I’m just about to leave.” Meke said, looking up at him. “I’m not doing anything wrong.”

“Always so suspicious,” Trove commented. Meke stayed still, waiting for an answer. Trove’s chest heaved as he sighed. “Innocent motives, I promise.” He put his hand up in an old-style swear. “Just wanted to talk.”

“About what?”

“Nothing in particular.”

“That’s stupid. People need to talk about something specific.”

“It’s called ‘small talk’. You know, enjoying each other’s company.”

This sounded odd to Meke, but she supposed she wouldn’t know.
 

“Okay. Why aren’t you sitting with the others?” Meke pointed at the other table, where the other team members sat.
 

Trove glanced at them. “Don’t feel like it,” he said.

“You’re the one who wanted to talk.”

“Well, aren’t you direct,” he said, frowning.
 

“Yes, I am. Why waste time with pointless words?” Meke retorted.

Trove shook his head and looked at Meke for a long moment. Meke was going to say something when Trove held up his hand. “All right, since you aren’t willing to leave me be, I’ll talk,” Trove said. “But you know that you’re irritating?” Meke shrugged and watched him, waiting. “It’s not exactly,“ Trove paused, “comfortable with the others.”

Meke wrinkled her nose, confused. Trove could lean back in his chair and laugh, just like the others. He wasn’t a Zero. He could understand their words.

“That’s not a good look for you, you know,” Trove commented, wrinkling his nose.

“You’re trying to distract me from the matter at hand,” Meke said.

“Too smart to fall for my tricks.”

Meke couldn’t help but to be pleased. He thought she was smart. A Fiver thought her smart. Meke waved her hand at Trove, urging him to continue.
 

“They don’t really…care about who I am. They just see what I can do.”

Meke peered at him. The notion that a person could be separate from what they could do was strange. “They look up to you. They look like they love you.”

“Exactly. They love me because I can kill people as easily as someone breathes. I didn’t ask to be good at that. I wanted to be—” Trove shrugged, preferring to leave the sentence unfinished. “Talking to you is like having my teeth pulled,” Trove finally said.

“You’re the one who wanted to talk.”
 

“Apparently,” Trove said, shaking his head.

Trove looked away and Meke scrambled for words so he would look at her again. “Are you ready for tomorrow?” she asked.

Trove blinked as if he had forgotten. “Nearly. I just need to get the supplies. So, how are you feeling about tomorrow?”

“Why are you asking? Making sure that I’m ready?”

“Just a question, not an accusation,” Trove said, face mild.
 

Meke sighed. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.” Meke took a deep breath. “I’m trying not to think about tomorrow—and after—too much.”

“That’s probably wise,” Trove said, “I don’t think about it too much myself. Although you may want to say goodbye to Gladys.”
 

“Why? It’s an easy mission.”

Trove paused. “I wouldn’t treat any mission lightly. It’s a real thing. Just say goodbye.”

Trove stood up, and stretched. Meke tilted her head back. Strange that Trove would mention Gladys, as he had scared her away, intentionally or unintentionally. “Off to say your goodbyes as well?” Meke asked.
 

Trove smiled. “No, I’m off for the supplies.”

With that word, Trove strode off into the hallways. Meke tracked him as he wove through the underground labyrinth. Meke also left, happy to leave the overheated room. The thought of not being proud of something that you had no control over stuck to her as she walked back to her room.
 

◆
   
◆
   
◆

Meke waited until Gladys knocked to open the door. Meke had tried to persuade Gladys to stop knocking. It was an exercise in futility: Meke couldn’t hear the knock and she could see Gladys standing outside. Gladys would always agree, her eyes skeptical. Then she would forget and knock.

Clothes wadded in her hand, Meke opened the door to Gladys’ anxious face. “You’re leaving tomorrow!” Gladys sighed.

Tooth emerged from the closet’s depths to bump his head against Gladys’ shins. She bent down and stroked his fur.

Meke nodded, throat constricting, and returned to packing, fetching random articles of clothing from under her bed. Gladys stood at the bed, folding Meke’s clothes. She was much better at it than Meke. Her folds were neat and precise where Meke’s folds were crooked and sloppy. The wordless void made every motion, every breath slow and laborious. With a folded shirt crumpled in her hand, Gladys grasped Meke in a tight hug.

Meke stiffened and when she realized Gladys’ intentions, she relaxed. As she released Meke, Gladys shook her head. “I can’t understand why you fight. Why don’t you just stay here? It’s safer.”

Meke sighed and rubbed her face. “I need to do this. I need to show everyone that they’re wrong about me.”

“Wrong about you?”

“I hate how they look at me.” Meke raised her hands, her Zeroes glimmering in the light. “They look at me like I’m nothing.”

“But, why fighting?”

Meke shrugged. “I feel powerful, not helpless.”

“Who would ever think you helpless?”

Meke smiled to herself. “I wasn’t always handy with a crossbow,” Meke said.

Gladys shook her head. “Even before that, you were never helpless.”

Meke snorted. That statement didn’t even come close to the truth. She had been helpless all these years. She had been helpless when they took her away from her mother. Worse than helpless, she had gone along in ignorance.
 

Gladys looked down at her hands. “I don’t like it either. The way people look at me. But I can’t do anything like fight.”

“Why not?” Meke asked.

“My husband.”

This was the first time Meke had heard of this person. “You husband? I didn’t know you were married. Where is he?”

“I’m not. He’s dead.”

“I don’t understand.”

Gladys rubbed her hands, mouth tight. “If I think about fighting, I think about him. I just can’t.”

“What do you think?”

“I think about how he died. Soldiers came and did things to him, things that I think about every night…” her eyes squeezed shut.

Meke knew she should leave Gladys be, but she still didn’t understand and she needed to understand. “Why did they hurt him?”

Gladys exhaled, her whole body quivering. “I wanted a baby more than anything. They told me that I couldn’t. Bad blood.” She wiped her red nose. “Me and Nabal tried anyway. They found out. I managed to get away but not until after—” she shuddered.

“After what?”

Gladys clutched her stomach. “They did something to me so I could never have children.”

Meke closed her eyes, but she still felt Gladys wiping away her tears. With numb hands, Meke stroked Gladys’ back. Meke thought about Gladys and the children at the nursery. If anyone in this world deserved children, it was Gladys. For a flashing moment, Meke was furious.
 

“I thought that it was Trove who scared you away from my training sessions.”

Gladys laughed, her smile dim. “No, he never scared me. He has been nothing but decent to me.” Gladys looked at Meke with watery eyes. “Please forgive me for running away.”

“There’s nothing to forgive.”

“You’re still my friend, right?”

Friend. Meke thought about this word. A friend was a person who cared for you, even loved you. In some ways, a friend was even better than family—a friend gave love freely. A family also gave love, partly because of the blood ties. The realization struck Meke that she hadn’t had a friend since Amelia and Tino. Meke was friendly with a few people, but friends with none. Maybe she would’ve considered Arya a friend once, but now she wasn’t sure. This woman in front of Meke wanted to be her friend. Meke couldn’t deny her that, but she wondered if she could be a good friend, being so out of practice.
 

Meke smiled at Gladys. “Of course you’re my friend.”
 

With an angry swipe, Gladys wiped away her tears. She straightened her back. “Let’s finish your packing,” Gladys said.

With ruthless efficiency, Gladys filled Meke’s bag with neatly folded uniforms and socks. She even inspected Meke’s weapons, checking the blades, strings and bolts.

“Well, that’s it,” Gladys said, sliding the zipper up Meke’s bag.
 

Gladys enveloped Meke in a tight hug. Even though Gladys’ head only reached Meke’s nose, Meke felt totally enclosed in Gladys’ warmth. Meke slumped into the hug. Gladys’ chest rose and fell, lulling Meke into mindless comfort. Meke shivered when Gladys let go.

When Gladys was at the door, Meke waved. “Just so you know. These people who look at you that way are fools. You do far more than they do.”

Gladys shook her head. “No, I just raise plants and take care of children. Everyone else is so much smarter than me.”

“You create life. That’s a wonderful thing,” Meke said.