“So, why did you bring me here?”
Arya smiled—a weary upturn of her mouth—and nodded. “Right to the point.” She tucked in a stray strand of long, rich black hair. “Well, as you probably know, the institution isn’t really about curing people. It killed me to sit there and watch them do it.” She spat onto the ground. “It’s called Genex. It’s a military-grade program. I don’t know a lot of details since I was just an employee. I just know that Genex is about turning humans into weapons. You can guess why.”
“Are they trying to fight the Foreign Powers?” Meke almost gasped.
It was unthinkable. The Foreign Powers controlled everything in the world: the trade, the technology, the raw materials of civilization.
Arya shrugged. “I suppose so. Although, I can’t be sure. I was just a tutor.”
“Why us? Why Zeroes?” In her mind’s eye, Meke could still see some of the other patients, their sunken cheeks and dull eyes.
“Because you’re Zeroes,” Arya said. “I’m sorry.”
Zeroes didn’t matter in the grand evolutionary scheme of Prosperon. They were the least efficient, least productive and the least loved members. Most parents, rather than to suffer the embarrassment of having a Zero offspring, abandoned them on the side of the road. Some were luckier and lived on the streets until some trouble befell them: starvation, beatings or neglect.
Meke had been even luckier. Her mother and father had hidden her away, kept her safe in their small and warm apartment. Some parents loved their Zeroes just as if they were Fivers or Stars. Meke thanked the heavens for that one small fortune: her memories of a warm childhood.
She could only remember the vaguest outlines of her father’s face—he had died in some sort of factory fire—and his dark blond hair, the same hair that Meke had. Meke and her father had dirty blond hair and light brown eyes where her mother had dark brown hair streaked with gray and light blue eyes.
Meke sighed and leaned back on the tree trunk, letting its roughness anchor her. “Okay,” Meke said, even if it wasn’t really okay. “So, what do you want with me?”
“Just know this. I wanted to get everyone out years ago, but,” she shrugged, “we needed information. Now we have something big. Something that will tear this thing down.”
“What thing? What does that have to do with me?”
“Sterling would be the best one to explain it to you. He’s the leader. We’ll get you somewhere safe.” Arya blinked. “I’m sorry, but I can’t think straight right now. I need sleep. Maybe I’ll make more sense later.”
Meke nodded. Her own thoughts dissolving into a mess of exhaustion, she inclined her head onto the tree and fell asleep.
CHAPTER FIVE
MEKE SQUINTED into the direct sunlight, blinking away sleep.
“We have to go. They’re still on us. I don’t understand why they’re being so persistent,” Arya said, as she shook Meke awake.
Meke’s sluggish brain wondered if it was because she had confronted Doctor Ball. The few more hours of sleep had made her thoughts clearer. She remembered Doctor Ball’s gleaming eyes when she had told him about her strange new sense. She didn’t want to see that gleam again in anyone’s eyes. It had been a proprietary gaze, as if Meke only existed for other’s ends.
As Meke’s thoughts sharpened, she wondered if this Sterling’s plan involved her and her new thing. No, she told herself, Arya wouldn’t allow that. Arya had saved her. One niggling thought poked at her. If Arya had cared ever so much, why had she sat by and watched Meke get turned into an experiment? Then, Meke remembered Arya’s words, “We needed information.”
All five men and women weaved a haphazard path through the forests and valleys, ducking behind large rocks and crossing small ravines. It was springtime, so the air was warm, but the ground was still cold.
A few hours later, they reached a craggy formation where they rested. The guards trailed them somewhere far off, so far off that they could relax a bit.
Meke chugged some water from a bottle, her eyes roaming the world around her. She marveled at the colors—some grays, some reds, some browns, even some yellows.
Arya walked up to Meke, the blond boy’s arm tucked under hers. “Cecil wanted me to introduce him to you,” Arya said, pointing at the blond-haired boy.
Meke glanced at Cecil, who was smiling in her general direction. He had his hand out. For a moment, she was not sure what the hand was for until Arya poked her arm. Tentatively, Meke extended her hand and shook Cecil’s hand.
Cecil’s smile widened and he whispered something to Arya. “Cecil said don’t be nervous. He’s nice.”
Meke laughed a little and supposed that she should return the friendliness. “Tell Cecil that it’s a pleasure to meet him and my name is Meke.”
As Arya translated Meke’s signs into spoken words, Meke wondered at the halting nature of the exchange. She had grown too used to the easy flow of conversation between two signers.
Arya’s moving fingers regained Meke’s attention. “Cecil wanted to know how long you were at the institution.”
“Eight years.”
Cecil’s eyebrows went up and his mouth fell open. “He’s shocked. He doesn’t know anyone who survived for more than a year there.”
Meke knew that she had been at the institution for a long time, but she never realized how much longer than everyone else. Now that Cecil mentioned it, she couldn’t remember anyone who had been there longer than she had other than Doctor Ball. She examined Cecil. His skin had a gray tinge and the last remnants of a blue-purplish rash covered his forearm. Meke glanced down on her own arm and saw the fading signs of a similar rash. A question occurred to her.
“How long were you with Doctor Ball?”
His mouth flattened. “Just three months. He hurt me. I hated it there.” He frowned a bit. “They took me away from my parents. Do you know where they are?”
Arya shook her head. Meke’s throat hurt, but she didn’t need her throat to talk. “No, I’m sorry.”
Cecil sighed. “They hid me for my whole life. They told me I’d be safe. Then one day—” his forehead creased and his lips stopped moving.
Arya whispered something in his ear, which made his shoulder sag a bit. Cecil nodded, his blond hair falling over his eyes.
Arya looked at Meke and smiled a sad smile. “We’d best be going. The guards are still following us. They’re further off, but we can’t stop.”
The steady pace lulled Meke’s body into a constant rhythm of movement. Her brain, however, buzzed with thoughts. Strangers surrounded her, pulling her toward an unknown fate. Just because you couldn’t see the strings didn’t mean they weren’t there.
She had no idea about this Sterling, this revolution. Her mother’s words nudged at her consciousness: Do not believe them. Meke chewed on her lip. Now, that she finally left the institution, Meke wondered if she should just walk away and live her own life as she had dreamed of doing when she had been stuck behind glass windows. Then Meke thought about Arya who had risked her life for a Zero and decided to stay with her.
◆ ◆ ◆
That night, Meke slipped into her sleeping bag, grateful for horizontal sleep. Despite her body’s limp exhaustion, Meke’s brain ached. A day of forcing her sensory world into the right orientation had worn her out.
Her headache reminded her of the reality. She had a twitching mass of sensation in her mind that interfered with her every thought and her every move.
The new sense—this thing—hadn’t faded as they drew away from the institution. Instead, feelings and images assaulted Meke from all directions. She could tolerate it during the day as her eyes settled her mind, but at night, her world spun, the notion of direction becoming meaningless.
How could she live like this, at the mercy of some strange thing growing in her mind? It felt like a parasite, siphoning her energy and her thoughts from her.
Her mother had told her that she needed to master the absence of a sense. “If you want
to, you can do anything,” she said, her light eyes all the more startling in her sun-worn face. “But you need to find ways around it.” Meke exhaled. She needed to master this thing. This sense wouldn’t beat her. Meke squeezed her eyes shut, trying to upright the world in her mind. The more she tried, the more the world swirled around her.
Meke clutched her sleeping bag, letting her nails dig into the rough fabric. It was no use. Meke released a breath that she didn’t know she had held. Her brain strained to maintain the focus. After a day of righting and steadying her world, the wall between this sense and her mind crumbled.
The world flooded her mind. Shapes, contours, textures saturated her, driving out all rational thought. All Meke did was feel. She felt the specks of dirt on the rock next to her as she felt the tip of the evergreen swaying in the breeze. She felt the wind’s current past the evergreen needles. Meke’s brain struggled to make sense of the shapes. Her mind couldn’t fathom the distance between the rock and the tree. A speck of dirt seemed as tall as a boulder.
Meke squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push away the deluge. The feelings refused to leave. After what seemed to be hours, Meke’s brain grew to accommodate these interlopers begrudgingly and painfully. Neuron by neuron, her brain righted all shapes and found some rhyme and reason to them.
The world filled in around Meke. Things found their rightful place. Her world felt bigger, more intense than ever before. Meke gasped as she felt a bug crawl on a tree trunk as she sensed the wind sweeping along the ground.
Meke was too tired for wonderment and awe. She fell into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.
◆ ◆ ◆
The new way of relating to the world felt too vivid, too full. Now, however, her head didn’t ache so. It only throbbed dully, as if her mind had overexerted itself.
Meke walked through the forest, feeling every evergreen needle in its own clarity, tracing the contours of the cliff on her left. Meke stumbled, her sense of the ground inconstant and fickle. Her sense still left her slightly heavy-headed and dizzy, but now she didn’t wince in pain or need to steady herself on trees as she walked.
Meke had to smile. This thing, this sense, was becoming hers. No longer did it feel like something alien lived in her brain without her permission. Her mind was hers again. She had achieved this all by herself.
She could even feel Arya slow down in front of her. Arya adjusted her belt, which had protruding dagger hilts. “You okay?” she asked, glancing at Meke’s slightly too-wide stance.
Meke nodded, righting her feet. Her balance felt unreliable these days, so she had nudged her feet apart to compensate.
“You know. We’ll be over the mountains in two days. There will be some people there to pick us up.”
Meke exhaled. “Okay. Then what?”
“We’ll go to the Barracks. That’s where Sterling is. You’ll meet him and see what you can do.”
Meke frowned. “What if I don’t want to do anything?”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
Meke thought about telling Arya about her old plans to roam the country. Then she looked at Arya’s expectant gaze and just shrugged. Arya glanced at her. “This will be a way for you to make things right,” Arya said.
Meke nodded. Arya walked ahead, satisfied with the mute reply.
Meke looked around her. Not just with her eyes and that sense, but with her brain. Arya, Theria and Trove all formed a loose triangle around her. Cecil stayed with Theria, but he walked with her without hesitation. These people had ringed her for the last few days, just like this.
Meke slowed, making sure to lag behind Theria who had been behind her. Trove dropped back as well, keeping level with her. He kept his eyes fixed in front of him, but Meke felt his attention on her. She slowed down even more, stretching the distance between her and Theria. Trove glanced at her, turning his body toward her, keeping his eyes on her. Meke sped up, closing the gap and Trove turned back, his posture relaxing.
They’re keeping me with them, she realized. Now she was having trouble breathing. Why?
Meke tried to think. She was still a Zero, a speck in a universe of important things. Surely, they would leave an unimportant thing like her alone. Then again, they’d risked their lives to rescue two meaningless specks. Meke had to trust that there was a good reason.
◆ ◆ ◆
She hadn’t consciously kept this new thing from them, but every time she raised her hands to tell someone, she dropped them. This thing was hers, something that she didn’t want to share with anyone. Besides, how could she tell someone something she didn’t even understand? She couldn’t put these feelings into words. Now that she felt like it was hers, finally, she couldn’t give it up so soon after she had mastered it.
She should tell Arya. Not only should she tell Arya, but Trove was noticing. Sometimes she would feel something flutter or move nearby and turn to look. Every time that happened, Trove would fix these dark eyes on her. His mouth would twist into a strange shape as if he needed to pick Meke apart and study her. What if he figured it out? Despite the improbability of it, Meke still dreaded the thought.
Meke picked up a few small stones and mentally traced their protrusions and dips. Her sense was becoming more exact. These minuscule indentations showed themselves in staggering clarity in her mind, even though her physical eyes couldn’t see them. She threw the rocks away, feeling them bounce until they slid to a stop.
As she sat on the campsite’s edges, she tried to ignore the others’ closeness. Everyone chatted around the lamp, eating their food. Meke always wondered what they said, but settled herself into her seat. She wasn’t young anymore. When she was five or six, whenever the other children had let her play with them—a rare, treasured event—she would laugh along with them, not understanding what was so funny. Sometimes, the children would say bad things about her and laugh, and Meke would laugh along in her ignorance. Meke had stopped laughing along after that.
Meke brushed dirt off her hand and munched on her dinner. Despite all of the varieties of Prosperon GE food, the same bitter aftertaste chased every bite. Meke wondered what it was like, to eat soil-grown food like people did once upon a time.
A sharp tingle emerged from behind her. Meke forced her body to still and not to turn around and investigate. Ever since Trove’s questioning stares, Meke had been more careful with her responses to her new sense. Training her body in stillness was contrary to Meke’s entire being.
The motion behind Meke continued. As it closed in, she could feel its small, furry shape. Not human. It could be an animal. The idea both excited and terrified Meke.
Prosperon, by declaring nature dead, also declared all animals dead. She had only read and heard about these creatures from other people. She had never been close to any actual animal. Bugs and insects lived in a tiny world of their own. Mammals were a different matter entirely.
This creature felt like some animals that Meke had seen pictures of. The body was round, but it had a long appendage—a tail, perhaps? Yes, Meke decided, it must be an animal. It moved too erratically to be a robot, which were rare anyway. Also, robots never trembled.
Meke wondered animal must need some kind of help. Otherwise it wouldn’t approach a strange human like her. Meke wanted to reach it, communicate with it, but she didn’t want to startle it, so she kept still, breathing lightly. With slow, steady hands, Meke crumbled her food into her palm. Theria glanced back, but seemed unconcerned with the fact that Meke was ruining her food. The others were too focused on their own food to notice anything.
Meke exhaled and flung the crumbs overhead in one smooth motion. If anyone asked questions, she would say that she hadn’t liked the food. That wouldn’t be a lie either; she hated the spam flavor of these bars.
The morsels landed several meters behind her, well within her sense. The small furry body darted away, fading away as it left the periphery of her sense. Meke tried not to feel disappointed. This creature would surely be skittish. Humans rarely, if ever, vent
ured hereabouts. Still, Meke wanted it to take the gift.
Meke resigned herself to her lost food and dignity. Suddenly, the creature reemerged into her sense. It crept toward the crumbs, its tail low on the ground. It circled the food several times before sniffing it.
The creature had pointy ears and a delicate snout. The shape seemed familiar, but Meke couldn’t place the name. Then she remembered the creature that was called “cat.” Before Prosperon, cats had lived with humans, almost like prized children. Now they apparently roamed free in the wilderness.
After the cat gobbled all of the crumbs, it darted away, fading into the rocks. Meke smiled and waved an unseen, silent goodbye.
CHAPTER SIX
AS SHE ate breakfast, Meke crumbled some more food and dropped them as they walked toward the edge of the mountain range. Meke felt slightly foolish for wasting food, but she could feel the furry body following them, snatching up the crumb trail.
Even when the trail of crumbs stopped, the cat still followed. This constant companion warmed Meke. Don’t be sentimental, Meke told herself, but she still smiled. Meanwhile, the furry creature clung to the periphery of Meke’s sense. Only once did she glimpse the cat with her own eyes. It was no wonder that the cat had stayed hidden for so long—dark brown spotted its long, black fur— its colors blended into the forest’s shadows.
Arya dropped back, nodding at Meke. “We are coming out of the mountains soon. Be careful—there are Prosperon soldiers all along the mountain exits.” Her eyes swept the entire landscape. Trove and Theria had shed their relaxed stances and now watched the area around them intently, their bodies tense and ready to act. Meke’s own muscles tightened and she nodded at Arya.
They had good reason to be anxious. The forest was particularly dense here with trees so close that their branches overlapped in a tangled mess. Anyone could lie in wait in the deep shadows.
Secret Value of Zero, The Page 4
