Page 12 of Emerald

I cannot be reformed because I would prefer to not be part of that society.

Sum of none. One and gone.

“Alone,” I mutter. “One, not five. But am I two?”

Maybe two, but one is better. Safer.

I’m having a bit of trouble finding what group exactly I am supposed to be identifying with.

I'm half white, orpakeha, and half maori, if her hints are true.

“Ariki, Ariki,” I chant.

I know nothing of that second half of my heritage beyond what I read voraciously after she let out a hint.

Just one? One and done?

Just a small hint, but my features and all the odd looks suddenly make sense.

“Just one,” I decide.

I mentally set down the article as a yawn worms its way past my lips. How long have I been here?

I stare listlessly at the single observation window a good meter taller than me and I am unsurprised at seeing nothing but the reflected light bouncing off it.

They get sick of my muttering sometimes. It’s useful.

Technically speaking, the window is not the only potential exit in the room, there is a door… somewhere along the walls. It is the main entrance and has been the route through which they have brought me into the room repeatedly.

“Formed through which,” I say with a snicker.

Form of sum. One and gone.

Stupid door. It has a nasty habit of fading into the monochrome singleness of the room the moment it is shut, and subsequent efforts to pry it open had me pawing at the white walls like a loon until it became clear that the door had either completely disappeared or specifically been designed to become one with the wall to deter escape attempts.

Neat. Very neat. And stupid.

Suddenly it makes sense why the psychotic bugs from the slot above me haven't bothered to bother me despite my fiddling.

“Why does it make sense?” I ask, confused.

I lay down on my back and shut my eyes as a wave of exhaustion washes over me, but not one of sleep.

It’s been a while since I felt the urge to sleep without the compulsion of the containment chamber they stuff me into every... night? Is it possible to have night without a sun?

Sum of sun is none.

If nothing else, at least I'd be more alert to pay attention to what exactly my kidnap-mates spend their time doing before they go to sleep. If I could see them.

“I can’t see them,” I note.

Believe it or not, I haven't paid much attention to the other women prior to now, on account of my less-than-stellar mental state.

“Ninety-five reformed,” I remind myself.

No. No. Five.

My brain burns, and here I am shutting down again. I resist, but then let myself slip and tumble over the abyss of unconsciousness.

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