Daughter of Nothing

by Eric Kent Edstrom

  Mother gently pushed the new nine-year-olds forward. Two boys and two girls. The first boy marched in fearlessly, chin up. The other boy and one of the girls followed after him, both casting nervous glances back at Mother Tyeesha.

  The last girl didn’t move.

  “Come along,” Dr. Carlhagen said, his voice booming through the speaker. “You have nothing to fear. All of your worries are illusions.”

  Mother Tyeesha put her hands on the girl’s shoulders and whispered something in her ear. The girl nodded and began to move forward. Once she passed the threshold of the gate, Sensei pressed the button, and the gates started to slide shut.

  Jacey watched Mother Tyeesha, tried to meet her eyes, but the woman was too far away. The chain-link gates slid closed, and the lights stopped flashing, and Mother Tyeesha was obscured again. Jacey wouldn’t see her for another year.

  The four nine-year-olds stopped before Sensei and Dr. Carlhagen. The two boys were of the same height, both with dark hair. The first girl was taller and stockier. Jacey thought she might be bigger than some of the current class of Dolphins.

  The last girl was much smaller, doll-like, with a mop of blond curls and eyes so wide that Jacey could see their green sparkle from where she stood.

  Each child carried a tote containing all of his or her possessions. The furry head and ear of a stuffed animal poked out of the top of the smallest girl’s tote.

  Dr. Carlhagen shook their hands and asked them to speak their name into the microphone.

  “Apollo.”

  “Ivan.”

  “Celia.”

  “Livy.”

  Dr. Carlhagen smiled down at them. “Now that you stand within the gates of the Scion School, you are no longer children. You must part with childish ways. You come among the chosen, those who have great destinies. I’m a firm believer in the value of rites of passage. This is a simple one. Walk among your new schoolmates and receive your uniforms. And this year we begin a new tradition. Our very first class of graduating Scions shall participate.”

  Jacey and the rest of her classmates moved to their assigned positions along the path. Smoke from the burning barrel made her eyes water, but she knew better than to break her poise to wipe the tears away.

  The nine-year-olds started forward, and as they passed, all the students spoke, “Welcome.”

  The two boys and the tall girl kept their eyes straight ahead, but the smallest girl, Livy, looked left and right and hugged her tote to her chest as if it were a shield. She wore a white dress that fell to her ankles, exposing pink sandals.

  The four graduating Scions stepped into the path to meet the new arrivals.

  “Welcome, Apollo,” Dante said and handed the boy a crisp new uniform. The other graduating boy, Ping, called to Ivan and gave him a uniform.

  Vin, head of Belle’s Nine, approached Livy and thrust a uniform at her. Livy took it and tucked it into the top of her tote, covering the stuffed animal.

  Sarah stepped forward and presented one to Celia, who took it with trembling hands. Sarah smiled at the girl, then led her to one of four canvas-sided changing tents.

  The other graduates took their charges into tents; a minute later they reappeared, the new students dressed in their mandarin-collared black tops, loose trousers, and canvas shoes.

  Dr. Carlhagen had circled around the Nines and was waiting at the end of the path, standing behind the burning barrel. Waves of heat rose from it, distorting Jacey’s view of him.

  “Commit your childish apparel to the flame,” Dr. Carlhagen instructed.

  One by one the new students threw their old clothes into the flaming barrel. Black smoke billowed out and was blown away by the wind.

  Dr. Carlhagen spoke again. “The Scion School provides everything needed for its students. Commit your possessions to the flame.”

  Apollo didn’t hesitate and tossed in his tote. Ivan quickly followed. It seemed clear to Jacey that Ivan took Apollo’s lead in everything. She felt bad for Ivan because the boys would soon be in separate Nines. Celia followed suit, though tears streamed down her cheeks.

  Livy did not move. She still clutched the tote to her chest. Dr. Carlhagen watched her, and all stood in nervous silence. Slowly, Livy removed the stuffed animal, a little dog. She tossed the bag into the flaming barrel.

  Dr. Carlhagen stared at her, waiting. She looked around, as if suddenly aware that all eyes were on her, that everyone expected her to finish her task.

  Vaughan shifted next to Jacey, his jaw clenched. Jacey knew he hated this ceremony as much as she did.

  She remembered her own moment before the barrel. She’d had a dolphin named Jumper. . . .

  Dr. Carlhagen crouched in front of the girl and pushed a stray hair from her brow. “What you fear to let go of is the very thing that holds you back,” he said into the microphone.

  Livy didn’t move except to clutch the toy dog even tighter. Dr. Carlhagen smiled and straightened. “Livy will remain here until she is done with childhood. When she is ready, she may join us. The rest of us shall proceed to the quadrangle for the Birthday rite.”

  The Nines formed a procession behind the headmaster and Sensei and marched toward the platform in the quad. Jacey couldn’t help but look back at the small, lonely girl standing before the burning barrel.

  Jacey noticed Vaughan doing the same, the muscles in his jaw bulging. He caught her watching him and looked ahead.

  As the Scions arrived before the platform in the quad, Dr. Carlhagen ascended to the top. Sensei Rosa took a position slightly behind and to his left.

  “It’s time for our very first class of graduates from the Scion School,” Dr. Carlhagen said. “Would the eighteen-year-olds please come to the platform?”

  Sarah, Vin, Ping, and Dante climbed the steps. They took off their Shark pins and handed them to Dr. Carlhagen. He shook their hands, smiling broadly.

  “Please stand aside for a moment while we complete the pin exchange,” he said.

  Sensei motioned for the graduates to stand alongside him. Jacey thought Sarah looked even paler than before. Dante, dark-eyed and swarthy, wore his usual smoldering look, but he shifted foot to foot in a distinctly un-Dante-like display of nerves.

  “Would the new Sharks please come up,” Dr. Carlhagen said, tapping his cane on the wooden planks.

  Jacey followed Belle onto the stage and waited her turn as Dr. Carlhagen shook Belle’s hand and gave her a Shark pin in exchange for her Eagle. Belle walked off, and Jacey stepped forward and took Dr. Carlhagen’s warm, gnarled hand. He gave it a squeeze and looked into her eyes. “Lovely, just lovely.”

  She pulled her hand free, gave him her Eagle pin, and accepted the Shark pin in return. He patted the small of her back as she walked away. The contact gave her shivers, and she rubbed her elbows as she descended the stairs.

  She took position at the back of her Nine as the previous year’s Snakes went up to get their Eagle pins.

  She watched carefully to see if Dr. Carlhagen paid any of the others as much attention as he had given her. Something about that look he’d given her raised the hair on the back of her neck.

  The process continued as the new fifteen-year-olds exchanged their Spiders for Snakes, the Centipedes collected their Spiders, the Crabs got their Centipedes, and so on.

  “Let’s welcome our new Dolphins,” Dr. Carlhagen said. The students clapped politely as Apollo, Ivan, and Celia walked up the steps to receive their Dolphin pins. Jacey turned to stare back at the smoke rising from behind the dojo where the burning barrel stood. Jacey had never seen a new arrival balk for this long. She wasn’t sure if she admired the girl or was irritated by her.

  She could only imagine how Belle felt, since Livy was supposed to be in her Nine. Belle’s face betrayed nothing, of course. Except maybe an extra degree of hardness around the eyes.

  The new Dolphins took their places at the back of their Nines, and Dr. Carlhagen congratulated the students for their achievements, then turned to the grad
uates.

  “I have a surprise for you four, but it is not something that can be shared with the rest of the students. I invite you to come with me to the medical ward while the others go to the dining hall to enjoy their Birthday feast.”

  The younger Scions let out a cheer, but Jacey found herself fighting back tears as she watched the graduates come down from the platform. They had been fixtures in her life. Their departure was going to be the first real change she’d experience since walking through the gates as a Dolphin.

  The graduates followed Sensei and the headmaster down the platform steps. Their path to the medical ward took them right in front of the Nines.

  Dante glanced at Jacey. No, past her. At Vaughan. He clearly meant to say something with that look, but Jacey didn’t know what.

  Sarah’s face was pale and drawn, but she kept her features under control and studiously avoided making eye contact with any of her friends. She kept her focus straight ahead as she approached.

  Jacey wanted to embrace her friend one more time, but something in Sarah’s demeanor warned Jacey to stay back.

  “Congratulations,” Jacey said as her friend walked past.

  Sarah didn’t look at Jacey. “I hope to see you again,” she replied, voice cracking. Her lips trembled as she followed Dr. Carlhagen.

  Next to her, Vaughan was shaking Dante’s hand and wearing a grim smile—the only kind you can give to someone who is headed into the unknown.

  Dante appeared even more antsy than before, constantly darting looks at Dr. Carlhagen. It was clear he wanted to say something to Vaughan but didn’t want the headmaster to overhear.

  Finally, he gave up and headed toward the medical ward, but not before raising his left hand to tap where his Shark pin had once been. Vaughan nodded slightly. Dante smiled, tugged at his earlobe, and walked away. Ping and Vin followed, and in less than fifteen seconds, they had disappeared into the medical ward.

  Vaughan dismissed his Nine to the dining hall and spun away toward Boys’ Hall.

  Jacey quickly did the same, then caught up to Vaughan. “What was that signal Dante gave you? A secret code or something?”

  Vaughan continued toward the Boys’ Hall. The younger boys in his Nine darted ahead. “Yes.”

  “Really? What did it mean?”

  Vaughan’s eyes dropped to meet hers. “Meet me at the bell tower.” He started away so suddenly Jacey had to jog a few steps to catch up.

  “What’s going on?”

  Vaughan kept his eyes forward and cast his voice low. “Dante has hidden a radio on himself so I can listen in.”

  “He has what? Where did he—?”

  “I’ll explain later. We’ve got to hurry. Is Humphrey following us?”

  Jacey glanced back. Humphrey walked ten meters behind them. He noticed her looking and changed direction slightly. She gauged his trajectory would take him between the dojo and the boys’ classroom. “He’s trying to make it look like he’s going to the mango grove, but he’s following us.”

  Vaughan cursed. “I was afraid of that. Dante should have been more subtle. Nothing I can do about it, though. I just don’t want Humphrey to get in trouble if we get caught.”

  “And what about me?”

  He gave a soft laugh. “I don’t want you to get in trouble either, but I need you to memorize whatever we hear.”

  “Let me see what I can do,” she said. Having Humphrey there would increase the risk of getting caught. And unlike Vaughan, Jacey didn’t trust Humphrey.

  At least everyone else was going to the dining hall. No one wanted to miss lunch.

  Vaughan gave her a meaningful look. “Whatever you’re going to do, do it quick.”

  It took all of Jacey’s resolve to keep her face calm as she slowed and waited for Humphrey to catch up. He tried to go around her, but she fell in step with him, staying close enough to signal that she was walking with him, but far enough away to avoid drawing too much attention. Strictly speaking, girls and boys could fraternize during daylight hours as long as they weren’t alone together. There were enough other students around to make any conversation seem incidental, but Jacey wasn’t sure she wanted to be too closely tied to Humphrey in people’s minds.

  Vaughan was nearing Boys’ Hall, and Humphrey steered directly toward it. At least it gave them some separation from the other students.

  They walked in silence for a few more steps. “You met with Dr. Carlhagen,” he said. “Now you want to know what I know about our linked futures.”

  Jacey didn’t see any point in responding. If Humphrey was going to be a know-it-all, she’d be happy to let him complete the entire conversation without her participation.

  “I don’t know anything more than you do,” he said. He clamped his lips together, but she let silence do the heavy lifting. It worked. He couldn’t stand it. “What did he say about me?”

  Jacey suppressed a laugh at Humphrey’s transparency. “Just that our futures are linked. What did he say about me?” She slowed her steps, forcing him to do the same.

  The fact that he did so told her that whatever Vaughan was up to wasn’t as interesting to him as their linked futures. Which told her he didn’t truly know what Vaughan was doing.

  Humphrey didn’t reply directly to her question, of course. “He made me watch your dance performance.”

  Jacey was grateful that Dr. Carlhagen had told her about that already; otherwise she would have tripped and fallen on her face. As it was, she was able to keep her tone light. “What did you think?”

  “It was fine,” he said flatly. “It seemed to be well executed.”

  Jacey decided it was a compliment, coming from Humphrey. She could reach into the sky and pull the moon down, and he would say it was merely an interesting phenomenon.

  “Why did he make you watch?” she asked.

  “I don’t know.” He sounded troubled, as if that very question had been going over in his mind.

  She veered slightly left to keep among a loose band of older students who possessed enough restraint to walk to the dining hall. They were talking among themselves and didn’t seem to care about Jacey and Humphrey’s conversation.

  Jacey again allowed the silence to wedge in and pry his lips open.

  “Dr. Carlhagen asked if I thought you were beautiful,” he said. He tried to make his tone light, but he betrayed himself by stuttering.

  Jacey burned with curiosity despite herself. It became suddenly important to know what Humphrey thought about her. She caught her breath and smiled to herself. She wondered if Humphrey was playing her.

  She had known him all her life, but they had always rubbed each other the wrong way. Though Jacey had never gone to any pains to irritate him on purpose, Humphrey had always been rude and condescending to her.

  The more she considered it, the more his comment seemed calculated to prompt her to ask a question—the very question Dr. Carlhagen had asked Humphrey

  She studied his face. There it was, a slight smirk. He was using her technique against her, letting the silence stretch, hoping that it would pull from her the question that would put her in a position of weakness. She imagined the exchange. “And do you think I’m beautiful, Humphrey?” And he would say, “Compared to Nurse Smith.”

  “Strange,” Jacey said. “Dr. Carlhagen didn’t ask me to offer any opinions about you. He told me that I was beautiful. In fact, he said I was lovely more than once.”

  It was a subtle move on her part. The success of it depended on how much it provoked Humphrey. He never allowed anyone to voice an opinion without piping in with his own.

  He took five steps before responding. “I said you were no more or less beautiful than should be expected of a girl your age.”

  Jacey admired the skill of Humphrey’s answer. He hadn’t fallen into her trap.

  Or had he?

  Given Humphrey’s views of the world, his standards of perfection, if Jacey was no less beautiful than should be expected, then what he had just declared was th
at she met his standard of perfection.

  “How did you like your dress?” he asked.

  The question startled her enough that her face swung toward his. His smirk strengthened, and she cursed herself.

  She should have known he’d seen the dress. The box had been on Dr. Carlhagen’s desk when she went in, and Humphrey had just come out. She tried to think of a response, but Humphrey went on. “He gave me a suit. I look bloody ridiculous in it.”

  “What color was it?”

  “Black. I suppose I should be relieved it wasn’t one of his cast-offs. I’d look ridiculous in white.”

  “You’ll be quite dashing in it, I’m sure,” she said.

  It was his turn to be startled. “Don’t make fun of me.”

  She hadn’t been lying, even though she had said it to provoke him. He had striking eyes and generally handsome features, though not as finely proportioned as Vaughan’s. No one did. Humphrey’s face was only spoiled by his habitual scowl and sharp tongue. And by his expression, he was about to lash out with a particularly cutting comment.

  She didn’t want him to be angry with her, especially if their futures were linked. “I didn’t tell the others about the meeting,” she said, putting a hint of conspiratorial tone in her voice.

  He relaxed instantly. “Me neither.” He ran a hand through his short-cropped hair and looked around. Most of the students had gone into the dining hall, which she and Humphrey were fast approaching.

  Jacey didn’t want to be out in the open alone with him. She needed to get this conversation over with and herself up to the bell tower. “If our futures are linked,” she said, “I think we should try to be civil to each other.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Vaughan come out of Boys’ Hall and dash toward the bell tower. He waved at her to come.

  “I’m trying as hard as I can,” Humphrey said. It was probably true, which saddened her.