A Fiver and a Zero together? Impossible. She knew what people would say about her and Trove. They would say that she got some respect on her back. Everything that she worked for would disappear for a man who would leave her.
Her thoughts about Sterling, Trove, the exposé, Prosperon and Doctor Ball snarled together. She tried to pick out threads from the tangle, but it was impossible. It wasn’t a good time to go gallivanting around and kissing people. With that thought, Meke fell into an uneasy sleep.
In the morning, Meke sat at her bed, wondering if she should leave. It should be easy to avoid Trove since he still needed bed rest. She would be able to see him coming and slip away before he caught sight of her.
You’re such a dolt, Meke told herself when she realized what she was doing. She shouldn’t avoid him. She wasn’t going to cower in a corner just because someone kissed her. The thought of the kiss made Meke blush. Then she reminded herself of the consequences and the pleasant flush faded. Yet, she sat at the bed, hands in her lap. Her thoughts sped too fast for her to understand. She was so consumed by her thoughts that she didn’t react in time.
Meke felt Trove limping down the hall, using a cane to shuffle toward Meke’s room, wincing the whole way. Meke ran and opened the door to behold a sweaty, ashen Trove. His eyes were fixed on the ground right in front of him, pushing himself forward with jerky, shuffling steps.
The thought of simply fleeing flashed in Meke’s mind. As soon as she saw Trove stumble, the thought disappeared as she reached out and braced him. His weight almost made Meke fall. Somehow she managed to stay upright and drag him into the room. He staggered onto Meke’s bed.
With a scowl, she plunked herself down on the chair, making sure she was as far away from him as possible. “Why would you drag yourself down here in this state?” Meke demanded.
Trove, struggling to catch his breath, raised his hand. Meke huffed. “We should talk.”
Meke felt churlish for keeping a scowl on her face, but she didn’t know what else to do. Her body shook as she waited, staring at the silent man on her bed.
Trove suddenly averted his eyes and looked down on his hands. These hands didn’t move, nor did his eyes.
“Well, if you want to talk, actually talking may be a good start,” Meke said.
He sighed. “I had it all planned out in my head before I came here. I knew exactly what I wanted to say, but now—” Trove trailed off.
Now she had the ridiculous urge to put her arm around him to comfort him. Surely, she wasn’t that desperate.
She decided to save them both some pain. “I understand. It was just a mistake. We were both—” Meke tried to think of the right word, “overwrought.” Trove peered up to her, his mouth set. “Friends?” Meke said, extending her hand. It was better this way. No confusion. No strange feelings. No Trove saying goodbye.
To Meke’s surprise, Trove leaned back and crossed his arms. Meke withdrew her hand and threw them up in the air instead. “Now you don’t want to be friends? Good riddance! I don’t need friends who are so easily scared away.”
Trove chuckled. “I don’t think you just want to be friends. You hugged me first.”
Heat flickered in the base of Meke’s neck. “Hugs are perfectly acceptable between friends. You were the one who kissed me. I am not responsible for that.” Her finger stabbed the air in Trove’s direction.
Trove raised his hands to respond, but Meke kept on talking. “Plus, I hardly have the time for this,” gesturing in Trove’s general direction. “I have a lot of things to think about. Doctor Ball. What happened back in the mountains. And—” her throat clenched, but she persisted. “The bodies. There’s just something strange about the whole thing.”
The humor disappeared from Trove’s face. “What do you mean? Everyone told me that Doctor Ball will be exposed. Then this thing may be over.”
“He may have been the hand who did it, but he wasn’t the brains. I think,” Meke said. “He’s not the type.”
Trove furrowed his forehead. “He’s a Star. Surely, he’s smart enough.”
“I’m not saying that he’s stupid. I’m just not sure whether he’s the one who we should blame,” she said, looking away. “Do you know that they won’t talk about how the patients weren’t Zeroes?”
“Yes, they told me that.”
“I think that’s a mistake.”
“I thought you didn’t care about the revolution.”
“I don’t.” Meke almost winced as her hands shaped the lie. Now that she wanted the revolution to succeed, she couldn’t watch things as they went awry. She knew that Zeroes’ deaths wouldn’t matter to these people. Some people may cry out, but not enough. This certainty pained her.
Meke began pacing around the room. She strode so long and fast that she reached the wall in only three steps. She groaned and turned around and retraced her steps. A firm hand gripped her arm, halting her in her tracks. Trove squinted at her. “What in the world has you practically running circuits around this room?”
Meke shook her head and slumped against the bed. “I just realized that I’m actually a revolutionary.”
Trove still had his hand on her arm. She could feel his hand shake as he chuckled. “Not very perceptive, are you? What do you think you’ve been doing all this time?”
Meke glared at him. “Well, I may have trained as a soldier, but I wasn’t a revolutionary.”
Trove released her arm and smiled. “I suspected as much.” His smile grew into a grin as he looked at her skeptical face. “Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t think you were the type—dreaming of overthrowing the big bad government. Didn’t I say so already?” He leaned back, appraising her. “No, you did it for yourself, not some fancy cause.”
“Not like you.”
“Oh, fancy causes aren’t my style either. I’m doing this to get out of this damned uniform, remember?”
“Yeah, sure. We’re twins,” Meke said.
“Sure, we are.”
Meke laughed. She was blond where he was dark-haired. The only thing they had in common was that they were both tall.
“You look different when you smile,” Trove said. “Not so hard.”
These words reminded her of their intimacy—however fleeting—last night. Flushed, Meke stood up and brushed away imaginary hairs from her clothes.
“We’ve gotten off track,” Trove said, straightening. Meke remained silent. “I suppose it’s best to come out with it,” he said.
Meke braced herself for the worst; he didn’t want to be friends anymore. The idea of Trove silent and sitting elsewhere during dinner made her heart ache. The idea that he would walk past her without a second glance was even worse.
Trove’s chest heaved. “Look, I like you and you like me. So, we can proceed from there.” His dark eyes, firm and steady, held hers.
Meke stumbled back into the chair, her thoughts at a standstill. He liked her. She hadn’t considered that thought. Trove must not understand the ramifications of this.
She forced herself to look back at him. His steady gaze warmed Meke all over. His arms reminded her of how safe and secure she had felt yesterday. She now recalled how she always kept track of him whenever he was within range. Worst of all, she remembered the tingle of his touch. She closed her eyes. She couldn’t deny that she liked him too much, but it didn’t matter. She was still a Zero. He was still a Fiver.
“No, we can’t.” Her finger shook as she signed can’t. Trove’s forehead creased. “Like you said, I did this to prove everyone wrong. To show I wasn’t weak. Well, being with you would ruin all that,” Meke said. Meke saw—and felt—how the muscle at the base of his jaw jumped. Meke continued. “You can’t ignore what people would think. Not just of me, but of you. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
If Meke knew what a growl sounded like, she would have thought that Trove just growled at her. “I don’t care what people say. I like you and they’ll just have to accept it,” he said, face red.
Meke
swallowed, taken aback by the ferocity of these words. He didn’t understand, that was all. “Perhaps you don’t care now. One day you’ll care,” Meke said.
“You don’t give me much credit, do you?”
“It’s not all about you. I refuse to ruin my reputation, as insignificant as it may be. I’m finally becoming something, something I can be proud of. People are finally respecting me. I won't throw that away. You would never understand. You’re a Fiver.”
“Evidently I’m an idiot who will ruin you.” Trove pushed himself off the bed, favoring his good leg. Gripping the cane, Trove hobbled toward the door.
The cold, distant look in his eyes and the hard line of his mouth made her look away. She squeezed her eyes shut, but her mind insisted on showing her his silhouette.
As he was reaching for the door, he stumbled. His hands flailed in the air for a moment. Before she could think, Meke rushed to his side and gripped his elbow, bracing his body. His back and arm stiffened as soon as she touched him. Once Trove regained his balance, he reached over and removed Meke’s hands. Despite the look in his face, his hands were gentle and warm. He opened the door and slowly made his way back to his room. Meke watched his slow struggle with her fist to her mouth. Once she saw him enter his room and collapse onto his bed, Meke did the same.
Lying on the bed, a tear trickled out of the corner of her eye into her ear.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
THE WEEK dragged on with a painful slowness. Meke tried to help whenever she could with the preparation for the exposé, but most of the preparation didn’t involve her. People put cameras in place, collected documents, practiced their speeches and decorated rooms. Meke found herself standing on the sidelines, watching as people rushed by.
Sterling planned to hack into the secure Prosperon Webs and film the exposé live. Everyone watched the Prosperon Webs incessantly, waiting for more news from the Ministries. Now, Sterling would deliver the news, not the Ministries.
Men and women huddled over handhelds, frantically tapping the screen. They were trying to find a way into the Prosperon Official Webs. It would take days. Prosperon didn’t let just anyone saunter into its main communication conduit. Meke had seen Trove working with these men and women sometimes. He stood straight, crutches nestled under his arms, frowning at the handheld. Not once did he look at her, even though they spent many hours in the same rooms.
Meke had been right: Trove had abandoned her. He had thrown away everything easily and cruelly. Meke could only imagine what he would’ve done if she had succumbed. Her rightness gave her little comfort, only pain. If he had been her friend, he would’ve understood.
To make matters worse, the stares hadn’t changed into admiring glances, despite Sterling’s and Arya’s words. Now, instead of mere skepticism, hate filled these looks. Meke suspected that they murmured snide things as she walked by. Somehow, that chipped away at her even more than outright doubt.
Meke just wish she knew what they said so she could somehow argue against it.
◆ ◆ ◆
Meke tried to smile as Gladys chattered about what the children were doing.
“You wouldn’t believe how much they seem to know. They’re already playing games about all of this.” Gladys waved her hand in the air. “They draw stars on their hands. They chase other kids,” Gladys said, cheeks pink with excitement.
“Why are Stars chasing them?” Meke asked.
Gladys’ forehead creased. “Doctor Ball is a Star. He’s the bad man. It’s simple. He catches small children and tortures them.” Gladys nodded with an air of finality.
Meke leaned back and frowned. This strange new game made her feel even more uneasy about the next few weeks. How would the children know who was the bad man? Did it matter?
The compass of badness and goodness for Doctor Ball kept flipping. She couldn’t place Doctor Ball in the neat, simple category of “bad.” She kept remembering his kindness—talking to her, giving her things to read—and she suspected that the guards had been kinder to her because of Doctor Ball.
Even though she knew that Daniel was making his way toward her, she was still surprised when he stopped behind her. He stood a few steps away, his hands clenching his handheld. As soon as their eyes met, Daniel shoved the small device into her hands. Dumbfounded, Meke read the words:
You saved my life in the mountains. Thank you.
The note was short and blunt, but Meke still took a few moments to read it. These few words carried the weight of the world in them. Meke thought he would hate her even more after what she did to his brother.
She smiled up at Daniel who stood stiffly before her. With grim solemnity, Daniel held out his hand. It felt oddly formal, but it seemed to suit Daniel. Meke stood up and clasped his hand firmly. His eyes were almost steady, but she felt the tiniest flinch in Daniel’s hand. He gave her a faint smile and nod, then walked back to his table. Meke stood there for a moment, blinking.
Meke didn’t need to look to know that Trove was watching her, but her eyes flickered to his. His expression closed and he looked away. Meke swallowed hard. He would have known why Daniel did what he did. He would have told her so she would have understood. And now, she had to figure things out on her own. No, she told herself. He had made his choice.
Rubbing her forehead, she sat down and faced Gladys with a smile that felt misplaced on her face.
“What was that all about?” Gladys’ eyes shifted to Daniel who was now sitting with his companions.
Meke shrugged. “Just thanking me.”
“For what?”
Meke squirmed. Gladys never asked for details about the mission and Meke hadn’t felt like divulging. It was the perfect pair. Putting what happened into words seemed to make them worse. She preferred to leave these memories frozen in crystallized moments.
“I helped him a few times during the mission. I stopped a bolt headed for him,” Meke finally said.
Gladys’ eyes widened. “But—the stories are so confusing—” Gladys stopped, looking down at her hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say anything.” Gladys’ cheeks flushed red.
“Just tell me what they’re saying.”
Gladys grimaced. “I don’t believe the stories. That’s all that matters.”
“Come out with it. I’m not a fragile little thing.”
Gladys blanched. Meke felt a slight tug of guilt but kept the frown on her face. Maybe this would explain the looks and whispers. Gladys drummed her fingers on the table before she started signing. “You know that I don’t believe these things, right? I know you’re a good person.” Gladys jutted out her chin as if this made her the ultimate authority. “There’s some people who say that you didn’t actually help capture Jens and Doctor Ball. They say that Trove and Daniel were the ones who did all of the work. They say that you were the one who ruined the easy mission.”
Meke couldn’t trust herself to respond, so she nodded. She had, along with Trove and Daniel, given her account of the events. She didn’t think they would lie, but who knew?
Gladys went on, her gaze reaching past Meke’s shoulder. “Other people say that the attack proved that you’re lying. You should’ve seen the plane coming. They say that you got Trang and John killed because you lied.”
Meke sucked in her cheek, meting out her breath. She had tried her best. Somehow the Elite Forces knew how to exploit her. Just because she could see further and better than anyone else didn’t make her invincible. Meke’s teeth ached from the grinding.
“I see, I didn’t think it was that bad.” Meke couldn’t say more.
“Not everyone believes it. Some people believe Trove.”
“What?” Meke blinked. Out of habit, she located Trove. He was in an earnest conversation with someone, oblivious to her.
“He’s saying that you saved everyone. He says that they surprised everyone. They knew your weaknesses. That it wasn’t your fault.”
Meke stared at her hands, the twin Zeroes staring back at her. She
hadn’t expected Trove to say anything. In a way, she hated his kindness. A seed of doubt planted itself in her. What if she had been wrong about him? What if she had misjudged him? No, one act of kindness wouldn’t overthrow reality. He was still a Fiver and she was still a Zero.
◆ ◆ ◆
Meke wiped her handheld’s screen. It still felt strange in her hands, as if it didn’t belong there. They had given it to her so she could see the documents for the exposé. Instead of reading the documents, Meke used it to research Lucio Donner. Everything that she found matched what she had already known.
The Circle of the Gifted had anointed Lucio Donner the next President once Edgar Tolls reached his intellectual capacity, which would happen soon. Tolls had just entered his seventies. Even with proper GE food and exercise, Prosperon couldn’t devise a way to maintain prime cognitive capacity after age seventy-four.
The Webs just said the same thing over and over again. With a frustrated grunt, Meke slid her handheld away. She rubbed her eyes. Meke knew that she was postponing the inevitable. With a sigh, she picked up her handheld and opened the file that Arya and Sterling had sent her.
Rows of bullet points dotted the entire screen. Every point had a statement that she needed to say. Meke wondered if she needed to be there at all. Maybe she could just lay the list in front of the cameras and walk away.
She couldn’t back away from this. Cecil couldn’t do it. He had taken a turn for the worse since the mission. Now he lay in the infirmary, senseless. No doctor knew what to do. His pulse had faded to almost nothing. Life seemed ready to leave the boy.
The hairs on Meke’s neck prickled when she felt Arya outside of her door. As Meke opened the door, Arya walked in and made herself comfortable on one of the chairs. “It’s almost time. We’ll be done before we know it,” Arya said, smiling slightly.
Meke eased herself into the chair across from Arya. The doctors had removed her cast a few days ago, but her hand still ached.
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