The numbness had faded hours after the attack. Now Meke Lichota knew she was in trouble. Don’t believe them. Her mother had been more right than she had realized. Meke’s brain started to hurt when she thought of Arya. Meke tried to calm down, but failed. She wondered if she should just slip away in the night and leave this mess behind. Surely, she couldn’t survive on her own, not as a Zero. Not as anyone, even—the wilderness wouldn’t allow anyone to survive. Or would it? Meke, like everyone else, believed Prosperon when it declared nature dead and buried. With a dead Mother Nature, only Prosperon could provide engineered food, made at smoky and dirty plants. Meke could feel the little creatures scurrying around her. Not just the cat. Ants crawled up the wispy evergreens. Feathered creatures flew overhead. Life flourished all around her. All these things seemed strange for a barren land. She kept poking and prodding until the idea took shape. Perhaps Prosperon had lied about nature’s death.
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