Zeroes

by Scott Westerfeld

  No way. The voice was just dicking with him. Again.

  Ethan wanted so bad to connect with Kelsie. Sputtering in his usual half-assed way was not going to get that done. He thought once more:

  Whatever makes us closer.

  He opened his mouth again. Not even a tickle in his throat.

  Screw it, then. If the voice wanted to be outed, that’s what it was going to get.

  “It just talks,” he finally managed. “Whatever I want, the voice gets it. But it’s kind of out of control, too.”

  Kelsie shook her head. “Maybe we should go back to technically.”

  Ethan had been leaning against the edge of the roof. But now he straightened.

  “Look, I can tell you exactly what happened in the bank. But you’ll probably think I’m crazy.”

  “I already think that,” she said quietly.

  “Check.” In a weird way, her admission made his next words easier. He didn’t have anything to lose. “I have this power. Like a superpower.”

  Kelsie raised her eyebrows. “A superpower?”

  “More or less. It’s not always super.”

  “But it lets you know stuff you couldn’t possibly know?”

  Ethan was impressed. She was halfway to figuring it out. “Almost. Except I don’t really know anything. I just talk like I do.”

  This was the part where he expected her to laugh, or hit him again with the depleted bag of money, or whip out her phone and call the Craig to schedule a beatdown.

  But for some reason she actually seemed to be considering his words.

  “How long have you had this . . . power?”

  “Ever since I can remember. When I was little, it would just pop up and say things. I didn’t even know that was weird, at first. I just figured that was how talking worked for everyone. You opened your mouth and words happened.”

  “Since you were little,” Kelsie murmured, as if that part had scored a point in his favor. “So are you rich? I mean, if you can take money off a psycho like Craig that easy, you could get it off anyone.”

  “It wasn’t easy,” Ethan cried. “He drove me out to this creepy house in the forest. I thought I was going to get shot! Getting out of there was mostly luck.”

  She was staring at him, still suspicious, but at least she wasn’t hitting him with the messenger bag. And she was still paying attention to him. Ethan wasn’t used to this. Usually when he told the truth, no one believed him.

  “I just wanted a ride home,” he went on. “I didn’t plan to steal anything—I only drove off to get away from the Craig and his boss. And that money was in the car.”

  “So you don’t use your powers for evil?” She was mocking him again.

  “I try not to make it hard on other people. Like in that hotel room, I made sure not to mess it up too much.” Ethan wasn’t sure where those words had come from. They weren’t quite his, but they weren’t the voice, either. Stray memories of something someone else had told him. “Chop the wood, or whatever. It’s a Zen thing.”

  “You’re weird,” Kelsie said, a look of deep concentration on her face. “You’re, like, seriously strange and weird.”

  Ethan nodded once, slowly. “I can see how you might think that.”

  “So let’s get this straight.” Kelsie shook her head, like she was wiping away a dream. “In the bank, you used this so-called power on my dad, right?”

  “I wanted him to leave my bag of money alone,” Ethan said. “So the voice started talking to him, saying whatever would make him focus on something else.”

  “The voice?”

  “That’s what I call it. I have no idea where the voice gets its intel from. I don’t understand half the stuff it says. It doesn’t even work all the time, because sometimes there’s just nothing you can say.”

  Like right now, when you were trying to explain a superpower to someone who thought you were crazy. There was no way he was going to bring up all the other Zeroes and make his story even more confusing. One thing at a time.

  The weirdest thing of all was that Ethan’s own words still seemed to be working. Kelsie’s glare had softened. She looked suddenly small and sad.

  “So it was just an accident,” she said. “You saying my name.”

  “Kind of.”

  “And you don’t know anything that can help me with the mobsters who are after my dad?”

  Ethan shook his head. “I don’t know anything about that.”

  She seemed to take that in, but it didn’t make her happy. “I was just intel to you? Something to use to get your way? Nothing more than a . . .”

  “Scam?” Ethan said quietly.

  Kelsie stared. Her eyes had gone cold. “Just a noise you made so you could score a free ticket out of the bank.”

  “Yeah, well.” Ethan swallowed. “I did have this huge gun pointed at me.”

  “Hank got killed because of what you said. He was a good guy.”

  “I’m really sorry.” He meant it too. Out of all the apologies he’d had to give in the last two days, this one felt the most real.

  Kelsie shivered, and Ethan realized it was getting cool. He reached for the pillowcase at his feet and dumped the minibar contents on the rooftop. He offered the pillowcase like a jacket, but she ignored it.

  She picked up one of the tiny bottles of vodka on the ground. “Prove it. Say something right now with your superpower voice. Something about me that no one else could possibly know.”

  She twisted off the bottle cap and took a swig.

  “Um, it’s tricky. The last couple of days, every time I use the voice, bad things happen.”

  Kelsie snorted. “Like spending the night in the penthouse of the fanciest hotel in town? Sounds traumatic. Prove you’re not lying, Ethan.”

  Ethan closed his eyes. All he could think was that he really wanted this girl with the green eyes and windswept hair to believe him.

  And with that, the voice tap-tapped on his throat. All he had to do was open his mouth and let it out. So he did.

  “Your dad taught you to pick pockets when you were nine, and how to cheat at poker. One time he won four thousand bucks on one hand—aces over jacks—and all you got was braces. When you were six, you walked out of your house alone and made it all the way to a football game. The home team won and it was the best feeling you’d ever had. When a tooth falls into a metal sink, it goes tink.”

  “Whoa,” Kelsie said. Then she finished the rest of the tiny bottle in one gulp.

  Ethan found himself smiling, feeling back in control, until the voice added, “What, did you think you were the only superpower in town?”

  Kelsie’s eyes went wide. But she didn’t argue.

  Ethan closed his mouth carefully. He had to replay the words in his mind a few times before they made any sense.

  Then he looked into Kelsie’s unblinking gaze. She believed him now, really believed him, and Ethan suddenly knew why.

  In his own voice he said, “Holy shit, you have a power too?”

  CHAPTER 53

  FLICKER

  IT WAS ONE OF THOSE dreams that kept going after she woke up.

  Too many eyeballs. Too much motion. Her bed in a vortex, that vortex jammed inside another vortex—both of them spinning way too fast.

  Flicker searched for her sister’s vision in the next room; sometimes a dose of sight steadied bed spins. But Lily was still asleep. Same with the parents downstairs, and out here in empty suburbia there were no other eyeballs in range.

  Flicker felt for her water glass. Her throat was dry, like she’d talked all night. But with who? Lily had been out when she’d gotten home from Ivy Street, and Nate hadn’t come in after dropping her off. . . .

  Wait. She hadn’t seen Nate last night. Someone else had given her a ride.

  But she’d been in Glorious Leader’s BMW. Flicker remembered that expensive smell.

  She hadn’t drunk any alcohol. There was no explanation for this slice of missing time.

  Maybe coffee w
ould help.

  Pulling on her pajamas, Flicker rewound her memories of the day before. She and Lily had spent the afternoon downtown, looking for the beautiful boy called Nothing. And they’d found his castle, hadn’t they?

  She remembered staking out the lobby of the Magnifique, the thugs in black tees who’d been outwitted by the quick-fingered girl in the shiny dress. Then the chase across to Ivy Street, and that maelstrom of money, bodies, eyeballs. And a new power at work—the sparkly girl.

  But then it all got fuzzy.

  She must have found him, the beautiful boy. That was why she couldn’t remember. Only Anonymous was the right shape to fill her missing time.

  Flicker smiled, because now that she knew what she was looking for, she glimpsed him among the whirling leftovers of her dream: dark-haired and handsome. She’d spotted him in the crowd, gone after him, and after that . . . she couldn’t remember.

  Buttoning her pajama top, Flicker padded to her bedroom door and out into the hallway. But at the top of the stairs, her hand on the rail, she hesitated.

  If Nothing had brought her home, where was he now? Back in his castle, probably. No, wait—headed off to some new hiding place, because the thugs in black T-shirts had found his old one.

  But another answer tugged at her brain, and Flicker didn’t go down to the kitchen. As if drawn by a scent, she crept past Lily’s room to the end of the hall. There she reached out into the air before her and found the dangling cord.

  She pulled it softly, slowly. The creaks of rusty springs and unpainted wood clamored in the Sunday morning calm. When the attic ladder was down, Flicker checked the eyeballs in the house again—nothing but the pink of closed lids limned with slanted sunlight.

  She found the first step with a bare foot, ascended the ladder carefully. She was still dizzy from her dream, and there was no point rushing. There was probably nothing up here anyway.

  The smells of the attic drifted down to meet her: the mustiness of old books, of boxes and papers and the old leather chair Dad refused to throw away. Scents salted with memories of playing up here with Lily. Or listening to her stories.

  That’s why Flicker had come here. Something to do with stories.

  But at the top of the ladder she found herself a little confused. Why exactly hadn’t she gone downstairs for coffee first? It had slipped her mind again.

  So Flicker did what she always did when things weren’t making sense: She listened.

  It took a while, even in the silence. But eventually her ears found the sound—someone breathing, soft and even. Someone she couldn’t throw her vision into, not even to find the sparkling rods and cones of darkness. And there was only one person like that in the world.

  “Anon,” she said quietly.

  The breathing stuttered, resumed. He was fast asleep.

  Flicker climbed out and knelt on the attic floor, focusing on the sound of his breath. She kept all her attention on it, careful not to let herself slip back into forgetfulness.

  Anonymous was here, in her home. The beautiful boy, the mysterious Nothing whose eyes she couldn’t see through.

  Finally Flicker pulled the ladder up behind her. It closed with a bump, and the rhythm of his breathing broke again, and then came a soft sigh.

  “Anon?” she whispered again.

  A sudden rustle of movement. “Oh, Flicker. Hey.”

  His voice was hoarse, like hers, because of course it was the two of them who’d talked half the night, up here in the attic.

  “It’s me, Anonymous,” he said. “Like on a mission . . . Um, wait. Did you just say my name?”

  “I did.” She felt a proud smile steal onto her face.

  “Huh.” A pause. “Sorry. I was going to leave early so I wouldn’t scare you. But I didn’t have a phone to wake me up.”

  “You didn’t scare me. I’m glad you didn’t leave.”

  The sound of him sitting up. “But you must have . . . stumbled on me, right?”

  Flicker shook her head. “I came up on purpose. I had a notion you might be here.”

  His breathing changed at those words. Then a soft “Whoa.”

  “Yeah, it’s weird. But it makes sense, too. This attic is where Lily told me about you first. Her stories are why I can remember you.”

  “You told me last night. We talked for a long time.” Something about those last words made her lips tingle. “She made me a fictional character, so you’d remember me.”

  Flicker nodded. “That’s why I knew you were up here. It’s like you were born up here in the attic—I mean, the image of you in my head. Actual you was clearly born somewhere else.”

  “Clearly.” A smile in his voice, and the little bone creaks of stretching. Then the rustle of putting on a shirt.

  Right. He wouldn’t have slept in his clothes up here in the hot, musty attic. And yes, there was the sound of him slipping on pants.

  She didn’t want him to think she was peeking. “Last night, when we were talking. Did I mention that my power doesn’t work on you?”

  “You’ve told me before. You can’t find my eyes, like I’m not here.” The rustle of his shrug. “Which figures.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not part of all that—attention, seeing, remembering. It’s all a web of connections, and I don’t belong.” The resignation in his voice made Flicker want to reach out to him. “Your power is a part of all that, but I’m not. I’m nothing.”

  “Nothing. That’s what my sister called you in her stories,” Flicker said, then added, “I guess that sounds mean, doesn’t it?”

  “It sounds accurate.”

  She tried to smile. “Well, at least I can’t spy on you. So you get some privacy.”

  Flicker ran fingers through her hair, feeling how snarled it was. It was odd, not being able to see herself while talking to someone.

  “I get plenty of privacy. Privacy’s overrated.” The floor creaked as Anon stood. “But I should probably go. Your parents would freak to find some guy up here, right?”

  Flicker was fairly sure they would. Not for long, though. Just a little flutter of consternation, then they’d forget all about the boy upstairs.

  But the mood of this morning had been so mysterious and sweet. She didn’t want it descending into farce.

  “Where are you going?” she asked. “I mean, if you don’t mind telling me.”

  “I haven’t figured that out yet. But I should go back to my hotel first, just in case my laptop’s still around.”

  “The Magnifique,” Flicker said. “That’s where you live, right?”

  “Lived.”

  The anguish in his voice made a memory fall into her head, like a piece of sky. “You were mad at me last night. Because I tracked you down.”

  A pause, long enough to make her nervous. “You remember that?”

  She nodded.

  “Right, I was,” Anon said. “But only at first, then I was flattered. And then I was impressed. Even Glorious Leader never managed to find me, and he’s been trying for years.”

  Flicker felt a blush starting, and half turned toward the attic door. “I’ll go with you. In case you need some extra eyes at the hotel.”

  “I’d like that.” He sounded like he meant it. “Um, do you have any shoes I can borrow?”

  Another flash of memory: bare feet and broken glass. “My dad keeps a pair of flip-flops by the pool. I’ll get dressed and meet you downstairs.”

  She went to the attic door and started down the steps, paused, and turned back to him. “See you anon.” The words felt familiar—she must have used that joke last night, once or twice. Was Anon rolling his eyes, embarrassed for her?

  But his voice sounded steady and relaxed. “See you, Flicker.” He might even be smiling.

  CHAPTER 54

  MOB

  KELSIE AWOKE WITH HER PHONE buzzing on the bed beside her. It took a moment to recognize the slatted blinds and tasteful writing desk—she was in the spare room at Ling’s place.
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  A sputtering came from the floor. It was Ethan, snoring away in a borrowed pink sleeping bag that was too small for him. Confirmation that last night hadn’t been a crazy dream. Or nightmare.

  They’d sat on the roof of the Boom Room half the night, talking about their powers. She’d always believed her power was real, but meeting Ethan had turned it into a different thing entirely. Not just a weird fluke, maybe part of a bigger plan. Like the two of them were meant to find each other.

  She couldn’t ignore that it had happened now, when she really needed help.

  Kelsie checked her phone. A message from Dad, finally—an address.

  She leaned over the end of the bed and gave Ethan a shove. “We have to go.”

  He squinted up at her, his eyes thick with sleep. His clothes were crumpled, but his army haircut gave him a look of combat readiness. “Go where?”

  “I’ll tell you on the way,” she said. “Come on, before Ling’s folks find you up here. They think all boys are after her.”

  The night before, Kelsie had dreaded introducing Ethan to Ling. But instead of the usual preening guys did when they met her way-more-beautiful friend, Ethan had only given Ling a weary salute.

  He was sliding out of the sleeping bag. “Um, you saw what happened last time I went outside, right? I’m, like, a celebrity now.”

  “We’ll get you a disguise, then. And if we get into trouble, you can always use your voice, right?”

  Ethan grunted. “One-on-one, yeah. But it’s not much good in a crowd.”

  “Weird,” she said. “My thing only works in a crowd.”

  He was on his feet and searching for his shoes. “Maybe we’re two halves of a whole. Like we were meant to find each other.”

  Kelsie stared at him. It was like an echo of what she’d been thinking a minute ago. But the words had sounded a little too smooth.

  “Was that your voice talking?”

  “Kind of.” Ethan looked away. “I mean, yeah.”

  She grinned at him. Finding someone with another power was a relief, even if it was the power of bullshitting. Two superheroes helping her dad was better than one.