Secret Value of Zero, The (3 page)

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Authors: Victoria Halley

BOOK: Secret Value of Zero, The
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His light gray-blue eyes widened, then narrowed at her; kindness turned into suspicion. “Of course, you are. I told you so.”

Meke let her hands fall away for a moment.
Don’t believe them
reverberated through her brain. She raised her hands again. “Someone told me I wasn’t sick. It makes some sense. I never feel sick unless it’s after an injection.”
 

“Who is this person?”

Suddenly, Meke feared for Arya. “It doesn’t matter.”
 

“No, it matters. That person is lying to you.”

Meke shook her head, trying to keep her target—the truth—in front of her. She would get some answers, even if Doctor Ball was a Star and she was a Zero. “Why do so many patients die? They looked fine before they came here. Why am I still not sick?”

“You’re strong because of these injections. You know that. You are our best patient.” Doctor Ball looked annoyed at her.
 

Frustration crept into Meke’s hands, urging them faster and choppier. “This injection–” Meke jabbed her finger toward the cart, “makes my head hurt. I feel things that I shouldn’t feel.”
 

Doctor Ball’s whole posture changed; his relaxed, stooping shoulders jerked up into a straight line. His hands moved slowly and deliberately, “What–exactly—do you feel?”
 

Meke threw up her hands. Her signed faster and faster, far ahead of her rational thoughts. “My head hurts and I will feel movements behind me. Sometimes I even think I can see more than I can, which is impossible.”
 

Doctor Ball’s eyes gleamed. He turned to his desk, shuffled through papers. His lips moved in words that Meke couldn’t understand. His thin mouth turned up in a wide smile as he pulled up her brain scan.

Meke backed into the wall, feeling its solid flatness against her back. What a fool she had been. She had swallowed everything they gave her and asked for more.
 

Now, he was staring at her brain scan, a gleeful grin on his face. Meke just wanted him to look at her, but he kept on staring at the glowing brain and his papers. Several minutes passed with Meke’s back to the wall and Doctor Ball sitting, facing away from her. With a shuddering breath, she touched Doctor Ball’s shoulder. He looked up, his watery eyes wide.
 

“Look at me.” It was more of a soft query than a demand, but his eyes still looked back at the screen. Finally, his eyes focused on hers. “Am I sick or not?”

His eyes slid away onto the floor. Meke let her hand fall to her sides. All she wanted to do was sit on the cold floor and cry, but instead she focused on Doctor Ball’s forehead and signed. “Why?”

“It was for the best, Meke. We need subjects. People like you. Zeroes are the ones sent here. Prosperon needs this.” Doctor Ball closed his eyes and slumped.

Meke wanted to laugh. This man was telling her that she was going to sacrifice herself for a nation that branded her useless and a burden. She wanted nothing to do with it.

Doctor Ball looked up and grabbed Meke’s hands. “Don’t you understand? This was for the best for everyone.”
 

It was for the greater good. That mantra dictated everything in Prosperon. All of the resources flowed to the Stars and the Fivers for the greater good. The most intelligent, the most capable among the Prosperous would generate the highest returns. Meke hated the phrase now. She had thought that she was contributing to a cure. But it was all a lie.

“Please, Meke! You are the only one who has withstood all of this. You are such a wonderful specimen. You can tolerate anything. We have learned so much from you already. You are even developing abilities!” said Doctor Ball, flushed with excitement.

“Without telling me.” Meke kept her signs soft, but her heart beat hard.
 

Doctor Ball’s shoulders slumped even further. “You’ll understand in due time. It’s not about you, Meke. It’s about the greater good.”

He opened his mouth to shout before Meke could do anything.
 

Meke felt a sharp stabbing pain in her arm. Hands firmly gripped her every limb. Darkness swallowed her and she was glad for it.
 

CHAPTER THREE

MEKE WOKE up in her room with a start. The heavy curtains plunged the room in darkness with a few rays of sunlight leaking past the edges. Meke propped herself up in her bed, muscles protesting.

Sensations flooded her mind. Movement buzzed in her head. Indeterminable shapes shifted past the walls. Her world became a morass of slithering, shifting and twitching shapes.
 

And pain.
 

Meke clutched her head. Feelings and shapes poured at her head, making it feel overlarge and heavy. She squeezed her eyes shut, but to no avail—the shapes stayed and insisted on her attentions.
 

Meke slid onto the floor with a painful thump. She gripped her head, shook her head, even pounding on her forehead. Nothing worked. The sensations that formed shapes refused to release her.

The sheer amount of information in her mind made her dizzy. Her world constantly shifted. The slightest movement jarred her mind. Meke curled up on the floor, letting the cold floor steady her. She spent countless minutes with her eyes shut, hands tangled in her long blond hair and knees tucked.
 

Meke ordered the alien feelings to go away. The unwelcome sensations taunted her with their invasion of her mind. It felt like Meke was falling into madness.

Amid the deluge, Meke scraped a few coherent thoughts together. This must be the injection. It was the same sensation she had last week, but amplified a thousand times over.
 

Meke inhaled shakily and eased her head up.
 

She wouldn't submit. No longer would she allow herself used, exploited and thrown aside. She would show all of them. That anger, in its purity, eased the sensations’ oppressive weight.
 

Wobbling, Meke rose to her feet. Things slowly formed sensible shapes. The world still felt unsteady and unsure, but some sense formed the shapes.

The shapes that stood beyond the walls slowly sharpened. As Meke blinked uselessly, the silhouettes came into sharp relief. She recognized the contours of the bodies outside the room. Brody stood outside of the door. Not only Brody, but four others as well. That was four more guards than usual.
 

This was new. Never before had Meke recognized anyone merely by their shape. Before Doctor Ball’s office Meke only had been able to feel vague movements. Not now. Now the clarity of the movement pounded at her skull. What had changed since a few hours ago?

Meke looked down at her elbow. A fresh soreness in her arm demanded her attention. Meke could see the needle mark in clear profile. It was a new wound, a red circle where the needle had pierced her skin. They had injected her once again.

This knowledge turned her anger into something twisting and permanent. She ran to the windows, flung the curtains open and let in the harsh afternoon sunlight. She pushed, kicked, punched the glass. The glass deflected her blows, not budging a millimeter.

As the energy seeped out of her body, Meke laid her forehead on the cool glass. The coolness helped her think a little. Now she wondered if she could leave or not.
 

Meke walked to the door and twisted the knob. It wouldn’t turn. They had locked her into her own room. Drained, Meke couldn’t muster the energy for outrage. Only now did she recognize the walls around her as what they truly were: prison walls.

A few shapes moved outside of the door. They heard her. Good, Meke thought. They should know that I want out. The momentary pleasure of them knowing her outrage faded when she realized that she had no hope. The door was the least of it. Guards milled around all day and all night. Meke wasn’t even completely sure where they were in the mountains. All Meke could do was sit back on her bed and wonder what would happen next.
 

Meke remembered her mother’s words, “No matter what people tell you, you’re worth something.” Meke thought that her mother’s words would never come true since Meke would never leave this place.
 

Meke sucked at her teeth. A few days after she arrived at the institution, Doctor Ball told her that her mother had died in a car accident. At that time, Meke had cried and wondered why her mother was in a car. She walked to work and as an Equi, could never afford a car.

Now, Meke wondered if her mother had survived for long after she had left. Once again, Meke had been a fool to believe them all. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.
 

With that thought, Meke watched the sun sink past the mountains and waited for something to happen, wishing that she could do something.


   

   

It was well past midnight when a sharp tickle emerged from the periphery of Meke’s new sense, making her wince. It was probably just other guards coming.

Meke gritted her teeth and allowed the prickling sensation overtake her. She could discern three shapes. One was far larger than the others, a man, Meke could only tell that much. The others were women, one far shorter than the man. Suddenly, Meke recognized Arya’s small, compact body as one of the women

Arya!
Meke remembered Arya’s words earlier, “We’ll get you out.” Meke had to clasp her hands together and make sure she didn’t make any noises. Perhaps there was hope, after all.

The three figures crouched in a hallway, waiting. Then the large man burst out from hiding, wielding some kind of weapon that cut down two guards within seconds. Meke’s hand flew to her mouth. Her momentary happiness turned into horror.

One woman threw something that made one of the guards collapse. The other guards scrambled, but it was futile. They were only prepared for an attack from her, not from outsiders.
 

Meke steadied her breathing as she felt them approach the door.
 

Her hands started to shake. Sliding out of the bed, Meke backed up to the wall, wondering if she should hide or stand there. Suddenly, the outdoors seemed more frightening than the indoors. Meke didn’t know what would happen outside and she knew what would happen here. Perhaps a known horror was better than an unknown terror.

As Meke slid away from the door, she realized that she was being afraid. Meke reminded herself that Arya would be there. Arya hadn’t lied to her as Doctor Ball had. Maybe the unknown held more possibilities than the known. Meke straightened herself and waited for them to come
 

The large man entered first, a dagger drawn, eyes roaming the room. Arya and a strange woman followed. Meke swallowed as she looked up to the man with his dagger. Scars crisscrossed the lower part of his neck, only partially covered by the high collar. His dark eyes were nestled deep in his dark face, making Meke wonder if he was her rescuer or attacker.
 

He glanced at his handheld and held up two fingers. “Two minutes.” His mouth formed the words as he threw some clothes onto the bed. As soon as he slid the dagger into his boot, he was outside of the room.
 

“We have to hurry. They kicked up security today. Our camera-block will only work for another twenty minutes,” Arya said, urging the two outside.

Meke fumbled as she dressed as quickly as she could. The act of snapping and fastening things quickly took Meke’s mind off everything around her.
 

Bodies lay, crumpled and unmoving, on the floor. Meke had known they were there, but the actual sight, rather than the feel, jarred her. Brody laid only a foot away from her, his face blank and open. Only a small spot of blood on his chin told Meke that his death had not been a soft, easy one.

She knew she should feel nothing for this man. He was her jailer and a harsh one at that. Still, these eyes stared at her and Meke returned the gaze.
 

She forced her eyes up to Arya and the strange woman standing beside her. The strange woman was almost Meke’s height. Her dark brown eyes looked straight at her, but revealed nothing. She stood casually by an inert body, her smooth brown ponytail swinging.
 

“Since security is so heavy today, we’ll have to split up. I still need to get someone else.” The lines around Arya’s mouth deepened. “You go with Trove. I’m going with Theria here.”

Arya pointed at the man, then the woman. Trove nodded at Arya and fixed his black eyes on Meke. A perfect five-sided pentagon shone from his hands. For a fleeting moment, Meke wondered why three Fivers had come to rescue her.
 

The two women slunk away into a dark corridor. Trove signaled for her to follow him, but Meke glanced back at Brody’s empty eyes. She couldn’t leave him like that so she bent down on her knee and pressed Brody’s eyelids down. Now he looked as if he was simply sleeping.

With a soft sigh, Meke straightened and followed.


   

   

Trove held up a hand, signaling silence.
 

His dark dusty-brown skin blended into the darkness as they descended into the institution's bowels. His heavy black eyebrows furrowed as he cocked his head, listening for any intruders.

They descended the stairs one step at a time. Meke knew her feet made noise and treaded as lightly as possible. Despite her care, Trove put his finger to his lips, a universal sign of silence.
 

Meke frowned, wondering where to put her hands and feet.

Suddenly, Trove pinned her right arm to the wall. He pointed at a small black spot on the wall: a camera.

Meke swallowed. These black squares had surrounded her for eight years. Up until now, they were of no consequence. Now they looked like evil black eyes, ready to pounce.
 

Trove pointed at his handheld at the camera and pushed a few buttons. Then he continued down the stairs, tugging Meke behind him.
 

The scene before her slowly made sense. One could program a camera to run a loop of the previous scene, but only for a few moments. Trove made it seem like nobody had been in the stairwell.

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