Forging Zero by Sara King

ideas.”
    “No,” Commander Kihgl said
bluntly.  “He’s showing them that disobedience has consequences.”
    Tril decided to try a new tactic. 
“If I had the modification unit, I could—”
    “No.”  Still watching the
departing physicians, Kihgl made an irritated gesture at the naked, whimpering
Humans.  “Go give your recruits their vid time, Commander.  I’ll deal with
Zero.”  At that, Tril’s commander turned and followed the path the medics had
taken.
     
    #
     
    When Joe woke up, he was
surprised that they had patched him up as good as new.  Every broken bone,
every bruise, every cut was healed.  A new anger rose in Joe’s throat as he
looked down at himself, flexing limbs that he had seen twisted back upon
themselves earlier that morning.  The evidence was unmistakable.  They hadn’t
needed to kill the sickly kids.  They could have healed them, just like they
had Joe, and they would have been good soldiers out of gratitude for it.  But
they had needed to make examples out of them, so they blew their heads off,
instead.
    Spiritually and emotionally sick,
Joe was barely paying attention when the alien medic told him they’d tacked
another six turns onto his enlistment to pay for his medical treatment.  The
medic never mentioned finding a little red pocketknife, and Joe knew he wasn’t
getting it back.  Somehow, that knowledge was worse than the extra time he’d
have to serve.  It was the only thing he’d retained of home, the only thing he
had of Dad’s.  He wanted to grab the alien and shout at him, demand it back,
fight until he had it, but Joe knew that the medics had probably dumped it into
one of the trash holes as soon as they had found it.
    Numbly, Joe put on the loose
white shorts and matching T-shirt the medic gave him and followed him to a line
of similarly-dressed kids standing in booths with little TVs inside them.  The
pictures were of people talking, and immediately Joe wondered if it was some
sort of brainwashing session disguised as free time.
    Only when the alien pushed him
inside one of the booths did Joe realize the screen held his mother’s image. 
It looked…older.
    Thinking it was some sort of
trick, Joe started to back out of the booth.
    “Joe?”
    Joe hesitated, staring down at
her.  Her hair was messy and her eyes were red from crying.  She looked so
real.  How could she be there?  Weren’t they traveling a billion miles an hour
through space?  Was this some weird mind-trick the aliens were playing on
them?  Subliminal messages? 
    Joe turned to the alien outside
the booth.  “What’s going on?”
    The alien gave him a
dispassionate look.  Through its translator, it said, “Congressional law
states every recruit must have six tics to speak with its family before
training begins.”   The alien glanced at a group of moving squiggles under
Joe’s mother and its face scrunched.  “You have five left.”
    Joe dove back into the booth. 
“Mom?”
    “Joe!”  She looked so
relieved.  So happy .  So different from the last time he’d seen her,
when she had thought it would be Sam leaving her, not Joe.  “Thank God.  Joe, I’ve
been waiting so long to talk to you!  Are you okay?  What’s happening there? 
Have they hurt you?”
    Joe took a long look at his
mother’s face.  It was lined with worry.  She looked like she’d aged ten years
since that first day the aliens landed in Washington.  She was paler, almost
gaunt.  Her eye sockets were heavy and dark from lack of sleep.  He decided she
needed to hear good news.  As much as he wanted to tell her his problems, beg
her to find a way to help him, he said, “No, they haven’t hurt me.  I’m doing
fine.”
    His mother’s face momentarily
slackened with relief.  Then a line formed in between her brows.  “That’s not
what the other parents are saying.  They’re saying the aliens are killing kids
and—”
    “They’re not,” Joe said.  “They’re
just little