Meke bit down on the inside of her cheek. Lucio Donner probably had no idea how she felt about this. She did feel responsible. Even standing in front of the thin man, Meke could feel the blood flowing on the ground. She didn’t need to look to know the ground was far redder than it should be. She wasn’t even sure she had saved any lives with the stunt that she pulled.
“It’s over. Give up,” Meke said.
“Never. Despite what I thought, you’re still a Zero, stupid and lacking foresight.”
Meke seized upon some righteous anger. “I may be a Zero, but you’re worse than that. You pretend you’re smarter than all of us, but you’re barely human.”
Lucio laughed. “Zero-talk. Worthless.”
Meke stared at him. “Just give up. It’s all over,” she repeated.
Her nails dug into the base of her palm as she gripped her weapon. “Give up?” His hair was wild now, almost as wild as his brown eyes. “I won't give up to this insanity.”
Meke pointed her weapon at him. “It’s over.”
And it was almost over. She could feel only a few spots of resistance remain. Most of the Elite Forces either lay on the ground or had their hands up in surrender. It was over, almost.
Lucio laughed, his face contorted into deep lines of anger. “Over? No, it’s not over. You will all ruin everything I’ve worked for. This society was supposed to be the greatest society on earth.”
“You’ll stand trial. You’ll answer for these dead,” she said, still holding her weapon steady by Lucio’s neck.
Donner reached into his pants and retrieved a silver dagger. The sun’s rays shone off the blade. Donner’s veins protruded from his hand as he held the dagger out in front of himself. “No, dear Meke. I will never stand trial. I won't have people who are not my equal judge me and my life’s work.”
Meke watched as the dagger made its way toward Donner’s heart. For one insane moment, she thought about letting it complete its course. Maybe it would be best to forget about him, wipe him from their collective consciousness, just as Barbara said.
No. He couldn’t die. Amelia, Tino, Cecil and all of the others deserved better. If Donner died, nobody had cause to remember them.
Meke dropped her weapon and leapt at him. Her fingers seized Donner’s hand as the blade’s tip touched his chest.
Donner tried to shove her away, but she hung on. Meke pulled at the dagger, but Donner held on tight. The dagger wavered between them for what seemed to be hours. Somehow Donner scrounged up the strength to hold fast. Meke felt her hands grow slick with sweat; she would have to release it in a moment.
Teeth bared, Donner yanked the dagger once more toward himself. Somehow Meke kept her hold, twisting the dagger toward her and away from him. Donner released the knife suddenly, simply letting it slide out of her hands.
Meke felt a sharp, burning pain as the blade entered her side. Warm, thick liquid seeped down to her hip. Trying not to faint from shock, Meke flung the dagger as far away as she could. The cut wasn’t in her belly or that deep, which was good. Teeth chattering, she looked down at Lucio who crouched on the ground, panting. He tucked his head in, curled up in the fetal position.
Meke knelt down by him, ripping long strips of cloth. She tied his hands and feet together as tightly as she could. Then she stuffed some cloth on the cut on her side.
“You’ll stand trial,” she said, panting.
His shoulders hunched over, and closed his eyes. The thirty-plus years finally showed in the deep lines framing his mouth.
Meke stood there, wondering how long she could stay upright. She felt the warm, sticky wetness spread through the cloth. She leaned against the building, relieving her legs from the need to support her.
As Trove approached, Meke sighed. She didn’t have to watch this man anymore.
“Are you all right?” Trove crouched by her, keeping a hand on Donner’s trembling body.
Meke nodded and waved him away. “Just put him somewhere where I don’t have to think about him.”
“But—”
“Please. The more you talk, the more I bleed. Just take him.” Meke smiled, thinking of the time she had been staring at a bleeding Trove in the mountains. She could see the doctors making their way toward her already.
Trove bound Lucio Donner’s wrists together in rope, removing Meke’s makeshift bindings. The man acquiesced, head down. Trove gave Donner a quick shove forward.
“I’ll be back, just don’t go anywhere,” Trove told Meke.
Meke waved him on. It wasn’t like she could go anywhere. She let her back slide down the building and sat down. Her hand still clenched her side, which had faded to a dull ache.
Her eyelids felt impossibly heavy. It was too much effort for Meke to look at the scene before her. She didn’t want to see it anyway. Red spots scattered the white sidewalk. People in black uniforms wandered around, stepping over lifeless bodies in green and black.
The last thing she remembered was feeling Tooth leaping toward her. Meke went willingly when darkness consumed her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
AS PEOPLE streamed out of the door, Meke remained seated. The room looked strange empty, as if abandoned and discarded. Meke felt Arya approaching, but she didn’t turn around. Arya slid into a seat in front of Meke, turning around to face her. “How are you doing?” Arya asked.
Meke shrugged. There wasn’t much to say after the trial. Donner had only gotten 20 years—20 years of labor—for his crimes. Labor seemed fitting for a man who had forgotten how to use his hands. Doctor Ball and many of the other top officials had received harsher sentences. Some got 40 years.
Donner had sat at that table, telling everyone how he had done the right thing. The more Meke listened, the less she believed him. Still, others believed him. The jury had deliberated for days, and ultimately decided that Donner had good intentions, but he still had to pay a price for the damage he had inflicted.
Meke fiddled with the side zipper of her uniform. The new nation—so new that it didn’t have a name yet—had passed judgment on Lucio Donner. She had to be content with that. At least the trial had discussed the patients, even if just a little. Meke tried to remember Amelia’s and Tino’s faces, but their details were lost to time.
Arya leaned back in her seat. “You know, why don’t you stay?” Arya asked.
“I have other plans,” Meke said.
Sterling had extended an invitation to her to stay in the new government. He spoke graciously, but his intent felt begrudging. Sterling had never forgiven her betrayal. Meke didn’t want to stay in a place where he always watched her with suspicious eyes. She didn’t even begrudge him his suspicion. After all, she had earned it.
“So, what will you do?” Arya asked.
“I’m not quite sure yet. We’ll figure it out.”
Arya inclined her head. “So, you and Trove, uh?”
Meke couldn’t stop herself from blushing. Things had turned even odder once people had figured out the true nature of her and Trove’s relationship. Meke wondered if people blamed her for taking Trove away from the new government. Trove had refused an offered position that would have given him fame and money. He would become the head of the new military, in charge of building, strategizing and training the nonexistent armed forces. The role suited his strengths perfectly, but Trove said no.
Arya looked at her hands before standing up and smiling down at Meke. “Until next time, uh?” she paused, her hands hanging in the air. “You became what your parents dreamed of.” With a quick hug, Arya was gone.
Meke watched her as she walked away, wondering if she should have said more. The heaviness of unspoken words and undone deeds had settled between them. No, Meke thought. Arya had made her choice, so had she. They just had to live with the consequences.
With a last glance around the empty room, Meke got up, shaking out the stiffness from her limbs. She needed to pack if she wanted to leave tomorrow morning.
Thankfully, most people had
drifted toward the dining halls to celebrate the end of the trial with food and drink. The beginning of the new government was upon them. For a moment, Meke thought about joining them, but she didn’t.
As Meke approached her room, she turned around to see Gladys dashing up the corridor. “Wait!” Meke smiled as Gladys’ rotund figure scurried up to her. “You can’t leave before saying goodbye!”
“I was just going to my room to pack.”
Gladys’ cheeks flushed deep pink. “You’ll never believe what just happened to me.” Meke hid a grin behind her hand. “Sterling asked me to be part of the new cabinet! Can you believe it? Me!” Gladys exclaimed.
Meke could no longer hide her smile. “That’s wonderful. You’ll be great. What position?”
“Education.” Gladys twisted her hands. “I just don’t understand why. I’m an Equi. I just take care of children and plants.”
“That’s a lot. Also, the whole ranking system’s gone now. You’re not really an Equi anymore.”
Gladys’ hazel eyes focused on Meke with an alarming clarity. “Was this your doing?”
Meke hoped that Gladys didn’t notice the blush creeping up her neck. “I just suggested a few people to Sterling. That’s all.”
Gladys glanced away, her boldness lost. “I hope I won’t ruin everything.”
Meke smiled and wrapped the soft woman into a hug. She would be wonderful. The cabinet shouldn’t be all soldiers and high rankers.
Once Meke disentangled herself from Gladys’ exclamations and musings, she collapsed onto her bed. Tooth jumped onto Meke’s chest. Meke fell back onto the bed, relieved to be away from the crowds. With Tooth purring on her chest, Meke fell asleep.
◆ ◆ ◆
“Why do you want to go to Vigorton?” Trove asked, shifting the pack onto his shoulder. He had one sword strapped on his back, instead of his usual two.
Meke looked up at the trees, marveling at the tiny buds blossoming in the warm air. “I want to see what everything is like now. I haven’t been home for years.”
Meke wanted to laugh. Everyone knew her now, but she had no idea what this nation looked, acted or felt like.
Trove shrugged. “Probably not much left after the uprisings. Vigorton was one of the first to fall. It hasn’t even picked a new name yet.”
“I don’t care. I’m just looking around.”
“Maybe we can stop by my home, too. New Hope, it was called. I wonder if they’ll keep the name. I haven’t been there in a long time, either.”
Meke turned to Trove, inclining her head so she could look at his face. “Did you see the documents during the trial?”
“Which ones?” Trove kept his hand on his pack.
“The ones talking about the genetic tests that predicted the future?”
Trove nodded, but didn’t say anything. The documents had exposed the genetic tests for what they were, a sham. The tests could only detect some vague relationship, but no definite causal connections between genetics and behavior. Meke wanted to say something more, but didn’t quite know what to say. She wished she could wipe away these memories for him, erase the existence of the genetic tests. Some people still insisted that the tests were prophetic. Others lamented the fall of the ranking system. Kept things simple, they said.
Meke just folded her hand into Trove’s large hand.
Theria burst out of the trees behind them, but didn’t stop as she trampled her way by them. With a lone wave of a hand, Theria receded into the forest ahead of them. Meke watched her weave through the forest.
“Where is she going?” Meke asked Trove.
Trove shrugged. “She told me that she had enough of the peace nonsense, so she was going off to find some fun. So, I’m guessing she’s going back to The States.” Trove frowned a bit.
“She has a twisted sense of humor,” Meke said.
“It’s not about fun, not really. She just doesn’t like being told what to do. I learned that quickly.”
Trove inclined his head, looking at a flower blossoming on a tree’s branch. The smiles came more easily to his face now but they still came rarely. Trove shook off his reverie and gestured toward their destination. “Let’s go. The nights are still cold, so I’d like to get some traveling done before sundown.”
They could’ve taken a convoy to Vigorton. Most people still preferred to stay within the buildings and moving vehicles of their old lives. Meke wanted to see the landscape again, under different circumstances.
As they stopped for lunch, Meke looked back. She doubted she would ever return here. There was no place for her any longer. Prosperon had fallen, and now everyone was busy trying to rebuild something from the shambles and Meke had just wanted freedom.
“Trove, you know Sterling well, right?”
Trove shrugged. “Well enough, I suppose. I worked under him for years.”
Meke munched on some nuts. Their earthy flavor still marveled her. All of this had lain within her reach for years. Tooth sniffed the nuts, turned his head. Instead, he faded into the woods to get his own food. He hadn’t become too domesticated.
“Do you think he’ll be a good leader?” Meke said, suddenly.
Trove paused. “I…” he swallowed and tried again. “I think so. He’s a bit too idealistic, but we need a little of that right now.”
“Yes, he was quite idealistic trying to make me into a prop or a lab experiment.”
“You didn’t really see what he was trying to do with you. You’re too hard on him.”
“What exactly was he trying to do?”
Trove sighed and rubbed his neck. “I don’t deny that he did some things that weren’t good for you. These things would’ve been good for the rebellion, but he let you become a soldier. He had me train you.”
“You’re thinking a bit much of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Well, I was a pretty valuable resource back then. Sterling may have been a bit obtuse, but he let you choose. Also, he didn’t get that mad when we came back from Technologia.”
“I suppose.” Meke brushed crumbs off her clothes and started to pack the things up.
Maybe a little idealism wasn’t a bad thing sometimes; but as with all good things, too much of it could kill you.
Meke slid her pack on, clanging her crossbow and poleax. “C’mon, we can’t have you slacking already.” Meke waved Trove forward.
As they emerged from the forest, the landscape smoothed out into flat high grassland. The wind rippled across the grass. They walked at a steady clip, Tooth at their heels, when Trove glanced at Meke. “So, did you turn down the scientists’ offer?”
Meke stared forward, not looking at Trove. Prosperon scientists—now called scientists, not Stars—who had capitulated to the revolution had asked her to donate samples so they could study her genetic profile.
“Yes, I turned them down.”
Trove pursued his lips, but remained silent. They walked without signing until Trove looked at Meke’s hands. Despite their efforts, nobody could erase these old symbols of the dead ranking system. Meke rubbed the ugly empty circle on her hand.
“You know, I’ve been reading some mathematics history,” Trove said.
Now with Prosperon in shambles, books became available to all. Not everyone read them, but some did. Apparently, Trove was one of the ones who read the dusty books.
“That’s not a good way to start a conversation,” she said.
“Wait a minute.” Trove raised a finger. “I’ve been reading about the idea of zero. It’s pretty interesting. Before zeroes, we didn’t have a symbol for nothingness.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Meke said.
“It is. Zero is a unique number in mathematics. It’s neither negative nor positive. It’s a boundary between negative and positive numbers. Zero is special. Without it, more advanced mathematics would be impossible. No multiplication, not long division.”
Meke stared at her hand, trying to match zero and special. Even though she knew that she could have
been a Star, she was always a Zero.
“I’ll have to think about that,” she said.
“Think about it,” Trove said, returning his gaze at the horizon.
The setting sun turned the golden grassland into a land filled with purple and tawny colors. Meke smiled. She had no idea how people could ignore this part of the country in favor of cold, metallic buildings.
“So, what do you want to do afterwards? After we visit our homes?” Trove asked.
Meke stopped, letting the grass snap back into her face. Tooth’s tail swatted her foot. “I don’t know.”
She smiled at the freedom of it all. She had choices now. Her grin faded when she realized that she didn’t know what to do with the choices.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
There are too many people for me to thank for making this book a reality. Since this is the Acknowledgments page, I shall try my very best to list them all.
First and foremost, I must be thankful for my mother's graciousness as my first reader. I shudder at the thought of what atrocities she endured. Yet, she unerringly supported me throughout my first book. Thanks, Mom!
Another thank you to a special someone in my life who prefers to remain anonymous (even though we all know that very few people read this far). He was the one who told me to get off my butt, stop whining and start writing. Thanks for the kick in the butt, big guy.
It may sound odd to thank a website, but I must. Thank you, Quora, for making this book possible in more than one way. On Quora, I found not only information, but I also received great encouragement and support, the lifeblood of an aspiring writer. Thank you, Quora users and employees.
I must thank everyone who read this book during its working phase. No matter what anyone says, writing doesn't happen in isolation. My beta readers gave me invaluable feedback that made my book far better. Special mention goes to: Danielle Maurer who gave me incisive critiques on everything from plot, character, to sentence structure (watch for her upcoming excellent fantasy series); Tamara Troup who brought attention to the warts and bumps in my characterization; Makarand Sahasrabuddhe who pointed out where I rushed my writing in my eagerness to get to the juicy parts; Jack Dahlgren who noted when one sword “magically” became two; Achilleas Vortselas who provided steadfast feedback and support; Jesse Lashley for being a hip youngster and giving me wonderful feedback from a young adult perspective; Laurel Pellegrino and Matt Daniels for being loyal friends (and claiming that they wanted movie rights).
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