Powerless Revision 1 Read online

  “What’s the purpose of all this?” Mira asked, forced to elevate her voice over the music.

  “Look over there. Do you see the young men and women in the white uniforms? They will be going off to fight in the war, and this festival is for their good fortune.”

  “A war? Who are they fighting?”

  “We call it the Night and Day War. Our side is the shade. If there’s one thing you need to know about the war, it’s that some people resent us for our peace. But fighting it seems worse than losing, and so I pray that they fare better than their older brothers and sisters,” Jeana replied, frowning and scratching her forehead.

  It didn’t make sense to Mira though, but she didn’t have much time to think about it because she suddenly bumped into someone who seemed to be sprouting oranges from his forearms. He had a straw in one and was drinking the juice. Jerking away, her eyes grew wide when she saw a buff, shirtless man standing beside her. A strange lump raced underneath his skin, and Mira gasped when she realized a squirrel had somehow gotten in there. It hissed at her, forcing Mira to huddle back near her mother.

  Mira turned around, considering for a moment that each of the people who surrounded her—probably one hundred people—had some force that they could exert on the world around them. It struck her the kind of chaos that could occur if things got out of hand. Even though most of the people were passively watching the performer, it made Mira feel alone and defenseless.

  “There’s one more thing you might want to check out,” Jeana said, steering her daughter to a tent in the corner they had already passed several times. No sign hung over the entryway and no sound came from within. Still, Jeana looked excited when they arrived.

  “Go ahead inside. Here’s some money,” Jeana said, handing over a few coins.

  “What is it?” Mira asked, but the only response her mother gave was to push her into the tent. She ducked down and slipped through the tent’s entryway. Mira immediately noticed that all sounds from outside, all commotion, had ceased. The dim light outside revealed a small wooden stool. Apart from a sliver of light brushing against the side of a stool, darkness cloaked everything.

  She thought she was alone in the tent, but once she sat on the stool the voice of a young child came into her mind. It spoke absentmindedly, carelessly.

  “How do you find something you’ve lost if you never knew you had it?”

  “What are you talking about? Who are you?” Mira said aloud.

  But the voice only repeated itself.

  “What did I lose?” Mira asked.

  “You are looking for someone you’ve never met.”

  “Who am I looking for?”

  “You are looking for yourself, but no one knows who you are. There’s a power in that.”

  Mira didn’t say anything.

  “Your greatest strength can be in hiding your weakness.”

  Mira waited again, but the child’s voice did not return. Adjusting her hands in her lap, she noticed that the coins had vanished. Getting the hint that the transaction had been completed, Mira got up and moved to exit. Looking back into the darkness, fear took hold of her heart.

  She felt she had learned something but didn’t grasp it completely. Intuitively, something came to her about being alone. She understood her isolation in a new way for the first time, and it struck her when she saw her mother, who bounced with anticipation.

  “What did you hear?” she asked.

  Mira gave her mother a wary look. This kind of situation, in which she alone held the knowledge of something, was new to her. She didn’t want to lie to her mother, but she didn’t know the truth well enough to express it properly.

  “It said that I’m missing something.”

  “Well, there must have been more. What else?” her mother pleaded.

  “It told me that I can find strength in hiding.”

  Pleased, Jeana had much more to say on the subject, and she elaborated on it during their walk home. All the while, Mira thought about the strange words, turning them over in the back of her mind. A chill came over her, contemplating everything she didn’t know, and it made her think about her frail nature.

  By nightfall, her fears had given birth to so many worries about what would come that it packed her mind full. Everything seemed so complicated and perilous, even when she was in the familiar space of her very own room. Every time she glanced out the window, the creeping and mysterious implications of her difference made her pause.

  Lost in her thoughts, it startled her when a loud knock came at her bedroom door. She told her parents to enter and they sat down next to her on the bed. Mira noticed the concerned look on their faces.

  “We know this couldn’t have been easy for you, today. And we just wanted to see how you were handling it. Is there anything bothering you that you want to talk about?” Kevin craned his neck to look evenly into her eyes.

  “I do feel different,” Mira began. “It’s like I’ve been living in a dream this entire time. When the dream finally ends, it’s reality you don’t believe. So it’s hard for me to trust it, to know where I fit in. I guess I’m most worried about how people will react to me. When we told Mr. Bogger, the look on his face was like he’d seen a ghost. It must have been so strange for him. I’d hate to get that every time I met anyone.”

  “The trick is to just be yourself. If you can act naturally and feel comfortable, the people you meet will feel the same way. You’re a great girl. Don’t be afraid to let people see that.”

  “You’re my parents. You have to say that,” Mira said.

  “Yes, we do,” Kevin assented.

  “But it doesn’t make it any less true,” Jeana added with a playful smile.

  Mira thought she’d had her fill of heart-to-heart conversation for now and it would be better if she got some rest. Already in her pajamas, she climbed under the covers. Her parents stood looking down at her, showing some relief that the day had come to an end. Jeana kneeled down and leaned against the bed.

  “Would you like me to give you a kiss to send you off to sleep?” she asked.

  Mira remembered how uncomfortable she felt about her mother using her power against her, but after such an extraordinary and troubling day, anything that would provide a sense of normalcy seemed welcome. She nodded her head and fell asleep as soon as she felt the press of her mother’s lips against her forehead.

  Chapter 3: Corey Outpost

  For the next two days, Mira lived almost as if the walls had never disappeared and nothing had changed. She continued her routine much as she had before: studying, tinkering in the basement with her machines, and running in the woods.

  This stagnation worried her parents, her father most of all, but they decided it shouldn’t come as any surprise because she had no activities or commitments that would beckon her from home. Irked by his daughter’s self-imposed captivity, Kevin went looking for Mira. Finding both her room and the garden vacant, he shuffled down the wooden steps into the basement, which they used as a storage area. Looking around in the candlelight, he saw science manuals slouching against overflowing potted plants and an icebox.

  Mira had claimed this space as her own laboratory. Small gadgets, nuts, bolts, and wires occupied the large, brightly lit table in the center. Metal scraps of various shapes and sizes lay on countertops and on the floor. Kevin had made a habit over the years of finding these kinds of things and planting them within the clutter of the basement.

  At the moment, Mira was hard at work taking a screwdriver to a small motor. Her focus and determination impressed Kevin; he felt awkward interrupting. “To think all of these little gadgets are possible, but nobody cares enough to make them. Hey, what are you working on now?” he inquired.

  “I’m just trying to find a way to get this battery to power this motor, but I don’t think the battery can provide enough electricity. I’ll have to make a bigger one, but that means it’ll be heavier,” she said without looking up.

  “Maybe you could reduce the
output of the motor. Would the motor still work ok if it had less power?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m trying to get it to work a drill. Thanks for the idea though. I’ll have to try it out.”

  Surprised that he had actually been of some use, something that occurred less frequently as Mira got older, Kevin smiled and watched her for a moment. She manipulated the parts with steady and knowledgeable hands.

  “It’s going to take some time. Is there something you wanted?” she said, putting the parts down and looking at her father.

  “I thought we would head into town and get you signed up for school. How does that sound?”

  He wasn’t sure how Mira would react, but she seemed excited by the proposal.

  “Sounds great. Let me go get cleaned up.”

  After washing her hands, brushing her hair, and changing into presentable clothes, Mira embarked upon the trip into town. They hadn’t been walking long though before her initial excitement gave way to worries about life-threatening attacks.

  “Dad, are you sure going to school is a good idea for me? How do you know it’s not going to be dangerous and I’m not going to get hurt? Mom said I should be careful around people and that if anything strange happens I should run away.”

  Thinking for a moment, Kevin replied. He tried to sound calm about it, hoping not to make his daughter any more fearful.

  “Your mother is right to say running away is a good idea, but what if they chase you? What if you’re in a small space and can’t run away. You’ll need to be able to do something else, and that’s why joining the academy is a good idea. You’ll get experience dealing with different kinds of powers and how to fight them, if necessary. It could very well be dangerous, and you will have to be careful, but this is what young people your age do, and if you want to live a normal life then you should do it too.”

  Though he didn’t say it, Kevin also knew this would be the best opportunity for Mira to actually get to know people her own age. A small tremor of fear came over him at the thought of her being beyond the protection of himself and Jeana all day, but she had to do it to become an individual with some semblance of self-sufficiency.

  ***

  Taking a side road, they approached the massive gate of Corey Outpost. Molded iron lined the edges of its wooden doors, and they stood beneath an awe-inspiring arch adorned with mystical looking statues, some of whimsy and some of wrath. Flags twisted in the breeze above the corners of the fortress. The gate itself stood against a backdrop of rocky peaks, the land in between divided between forest and farmland.

  One side of the gate had been left open, allowing visitors to enter. Before slipping inside, Mira stood next to the end of the gate, measuring its width and finding it greater than the length of her arm.

  Entering the outpost dazzled her and left her in a state of wonder. Crowds of people populated a bustling marketplace, and Mira marveled at the different styles of dress. The bright colors, designs, and accessories that both the men and the women wore made her curious. She examined the goods they carried with them, seeing many things she had never seen before and wondering about their purpose.

  Offices lined the walls of the outpost on both the first and the second floor. She looked at the signs posted above the doors but could only guess what they meant. “Darmen Exchange,” “Infraction Reporting,” and “Reciprocal Usage” particularly puzzled her.

  “Dad,” she asked, “what are all of these offices for?”

  “That one there. Darmen is the name of the capitol city,” he said. He added that he would explain the rest later because they had almost arrived at their destination.

  They approached a large stone staircase that led up to the second level. Mira also noticed a similar set of stairs leading down underground. Ascending the steps to the second floor, they walked along the building’s perimeter. Mira peeked through the glass windows and saw a library, a room with a man fighting a small, ferocious animal, and an empty classroom.

  Beyond the classroom was an office with the sign, “Dustfalls Academy—Reception.” Entering the room, they found numerous clerical workers rifling through forms behind rows of desks. A woman and a young boy occupied a bench close to the counter. The woman waited patiently while her son, full of energy, jumped up and down beside her.

  Kevin and Mira approached the main desk and were told to wait. Mira sat down a safe distance away from the young boy, and Kevin took a seat beside her. Mira, waving, tried to catch the boy’s attention, and he eventually turned to face her.

  “Hello. How are you?”

  “How are you?” the boy repeated.

  “Are you going to start school?” Mira asked. The boy nodded his head. “Wow, me too!”

  Mira noticed the boy’s mother giving her a confused look, like she smelled an unpleasant odor and was trying to figure out what it was. Mira returned the same optimistic look she had given the boy. Her eyes becoming ever more piercing, the mother spoke. “Are you five years old?” she asked.

  Mira didn’t know whether to laugh or be offended.

  “No, I’m not. I’m fifteen years old.” But the woman shook her head, put it out of her mind, and went back to waiting quietly. Mira and her father spent the rest of their wait in silence, time in which Mira thought about the small boy next to her and how the students she would be meeting in her class would have a nine-year head start on her.

  Once the Ipswiches were called. They approached a large woman with curly hair and glasses.

  “Can I help you?” she grumbled. Kevin spoke up.

  “Hi. Yes, this is my daughter and I’d like to enroll her in the academy, senior level.”

  The woman’s face took on the same sort of contortion as the mother on the couch. Something just didn’t add up. Still, she reached into a drawer and pulled out the proper document. Just before putting pen to paper, the woman had to resolve her conundrum.

  “How is it, exactly, that you are enrolling for the first time in the oldest age group?” she asked, pulling off her glasses and looking squarely at Mira. who didn’t know the right answer to this question. She wanted to join the school, and she didn’t want to say anything that would prevent her from getting in.

  Fortunately, Kevin cobbled together an explanation. “We taught her at home all these years, but now we’re sick of having her around the house all the time. These schools are such a great thing.”

  Content with that answer, the woman behind the desk began filling out the form.

  “Name of student?”

  “Mira Ipswich,” she answered.

  “Age?”

  “Fifteen years old.”

  “Gender?”

  Mira, rolling her eyes, flipped her ponytail.

  “You think it’s an easy question, but you’d be surprised,” the woman said defensively, marking the appropriate answer on the form. They went through her address, emergency contact information, and physical health. It seemed to Mira like they had gone through the entire form without problem, and she felt confident about it, until the very last question.

  “Ok, honey, what is your special gift?” She didn’t know what to say, and the wait clearly irritated the woman behind the desk.

  “Why do you need to know that?” Mira stammered.

  “Because we try to create a safe learning environment, and nothing would undermine that like a teacher who didn’t know what the students were capable of.” Mira nodded her head. That made sense. Again, she looked to her father to answer. He leaned forward and spoke in discreet tones.

  “See, she can’t do anything,” he said. The woman scratched her head until a thought struck her.

  “Oh, so she freezes herself in place,” and she began to write on the form. Kevin shook his head.

  “No, it’s like this. She doesn’t have a special power.” Straining to make sense of what she heard, another thought struck her mind. She erased what she had written and started to write again.

  “Ok, I got it. She neutralizes special gifts
.”

  “No, no, no. Let me ask you this. What can you do?” The woman responded that she could change the temperature of water. “Ok, now imagine that you couldn’t do that and nothing substituted for it. That’s how she is. No power, ability, gift, whatever you want to call it. There is nothing unique about her.”

  In his frustration, the volume of his voice increased, catching the attention of the other people at their desks. It pained Mira to hear herself spoken of this way, and she looked down at the floor. The woman’s jaw dropped a little bit and she stared blankly at Kevin.

  “One moment please,” she said in a polite tone, which contrasted with her deeply disturbed look. She got up and joined a circle of the workers that had already formed. Heavy whispering, at times with emphatic gestures, punctuated their discussion. Kevin and Mira looked on, unable to hear any of what they said.

  “Is it going to be ok, Dad?” she asked, slouching.

  “I’ll make it ok,” he said, putting his arm around her and pulling her a little closer.

  A moment later, the woman returned to her desk. Struggling to suppress her emotions, she sat down and reviewed the document. Again erasing what she had written on the bottom part of the form until the surface became rough and thin, she pressed her implement to the paper hard and scrawled a single word, “powerless.”

  “We are prepared,” she said, taking a sudden deep breath, “to offer you preliminary approval. No one has ever been turned away before, but then again those who aren’t cut out for it know better than to apply. Let me ask you, are you sure this is what you want to do?”

  Mira, suddenly feeling herself under the spotlight, experienced a flush of defiance sweep through her mind. It insulted her that someone thought she couldn’t do something.

  “There is nothing else I want more. You’ll see. I’ll be great at it,” she said firmly.