Unclassified; Zero and Still Standing

Chapter 44: Conference

Sunday morning at Arrow’s estate was strangely quiet.

The place was usually silent but somehow it felt quieter today. freewebnσvel.cøm

The kind of quiet that made every sound feel deliberate.

The ticking of a clock.

The rustling of leaves outside.

The distant hum of automated maintenance systems is hidden somewhere within the property.

Yesu sat alone at the dining table, finishing breakfast.

Arrow’s seat remained empty.

After bringing her home from Central City the evening before, he had entered his office, collected a few things and left almost immediately.

He hadn’t returned since.

That seemed normal somehow.

Arrow never looked like a man who stayed in one place for long.

After breakfast, Yesu followed Greta around the house.

The older woman was dusting shelves when Yesu quietly took a cloth and began helping.

Greta nearly dropped the feather duster.

"No, no, no." she protested. "You don’t have to do that."

Yesu continued wiping.

"Why?"

"Because you’re not a staff."

"But I live here."

Greta opened her mouth. Then I closed it.

"Mr Arrow wouldn’t approve."

That finally made Yesu stop.

"Oh."

Greta stared at her.

Yesu surrendered the cloth and wandered off before Greta suffered an actual headache.

The house library turned out to be larger than a whole apartment then a Zero district.

Rows upon rows of shelves stretched across the room.

History. Political warfare. Military campaigns. Classifications. State legislation. Diplomatic relations.

Yesu pulled out one book.

I opened it.

Read half a page.

Put it back.

Five minutes later she was gone.

Books had never managed to hold her attention for long.

She continued wandering around the house, gazing at paintings, mostly of landscapes. Touching the decorative sculptures and ornaments.

Eventually, she found a telephone in one of the sitting rooms.

She picked it up and dialed Millie’s house number from memory.

The call failed immediately.

Yesu blinked.

Then remembered.

Millie’s father had forgotten to pay the bills so many times that the line had eventually been disconnected.

That sounded about right.

With nothing else to do, Yesu went outside.

She sat cross-legged on the porch, hands supporting her chin. Watching the distant tree line sway gently beneath the afternoon breeze.

From where she sat, she couldn’t see the gates. Only the endless stretch of greenery beyond them.

Time drifted by lazily.

Then the sound of an engine reached her ears.

A posh black vehicle appeared around the bend of the driveway.

Arrow’s car.

It rolled smoothly toward the house before coming to a stop in the driveway.

Arrow stepped out.

Yesu looked up at him. "Welcome back."

Arrow walked past her.

"Hm."

That was the entirety of their reunion.

Yesu stood and followed him inside. Greta appeared almost immediately.

"Welcome back, sir."

Arrow handed her a plastic shopping bag without stopping.

Greta looked inside. Then gasped.

"Apples?"

She sounded genuinely shocked.

"How did you manage to get apples?"

Arrow loosened his tie slightly.

"Connections."

And continued toward the stairs.

Greta stared into the basin if it contained gold.

Yesu frowned. Back in the district, fruits were scarce but no one reacted this way when they saw one.

"What’s special about apples?"

Greta looked up.

"You didn’t know?"

She lowered her voice slightly.

"The East recently allied with the North. Most apples come through Eastern trade routes. Supplies have been inconsistent for months."

Yesu’s expression shifted slowly.

Her thoughts drifted back to the day before.

To Doctor Heckman. To his ridiculous request.

A dozen apple pies.

And Josephine had returned hours later with only two.

Yesu wondered if the Doctor had actually been serious.

***

Sunday seemed to go by quickly after Arrow had returned home.

Then Monday came.

And Yesu found herself before the impressive steel gates of Echelon Academy once more.

She noticed the students looked a bit excited as they trooped into the school. Some scowled at her, others laughed smugly.

Yesu grabbed the handlebars of her bicycle and walked forward.

Waiting beyond the gates was a problem she didn’t even know existed.

***

The conference hall held its silence like a tightened wire.

A long U-shaped table split the room into two sides. The Board of Trustees on the left. The Student Council executives on the right.

No one spoke at first.

The silence felt tight, like it was holding something in place.

A trustee finally broke it.

"This request is not normal," he said. "A student council cannot push a review like this without full details."

Another trustee leaned forward. "We are being asked to judge something that hasn’t been properly defined."

That sentence caused a ripple.

Confusion spread across the board. Some frowned. Some whispered.

"If we act without clarity," one trustee said, "we risk making a wrong decision."

Murmurs followed on the board side.

A parent trustee leaned forward. "Then the safest option is to remove the issue before it spreads further."

That word shifted the room again.

Remove.

It wasn’t said loudly, but it stayed.

Across the table, the student council remained quiet.

Olwen Viremont sat silently, eyes calmly studying the room. Mahirah was watching the board more than the discussion. The rest of them just stared.

No one on their side spoke.

They didn’t need to.

All of it was already moving on its own.

Then a small movement came from their midst.

Ackerman adjusted his posture slightly.

Not dramatic. Not obvious.

Just enough to remind anyone watching that he was still there.

His eyes moved between the speaking trustees, calm and steady, like he was listening to each side separately.

Not worried.

Measuring.

The Vice Chair cleared his throat. "The Chairman has not given direction yet."

That pulled attention forward again.

At the head of the table, Trellises Quintin remained still.

No reaction.

No change in expression.

The silence around him felt heavier than the argument itself.

The board continued to split anyway.

Some pushed for caution. Some for action. Some just wanted the matter closed.

Voices overlapped now, no longer aligned.

The structure of the room was starting to loosen.

And Ackerman saw it clearly.

Not as chaos. But as a separation.

Slow.

Clean.

Predictable.

And for the first time since the meeting began, Ackerman smiled faintly.

Not because it was over.

Because it had already started to fall.