The researcher shakes his head. “No,” he replies.
Taylor sighs, as if all of this genuinely pains her. She flips through a stack of papers on her desk. “Very well. Do we have any other participants in the program who might work?”
“Your girl. Jackson Taylor.” The researcher slides another stack of papers toward her. Taylor studies them in silence.
“Her numbers are good,” she replies, pushing up her glasses. “But her exam reactions are far less ideal. She’s too unpredictable to be a reliable candidate.”
Taylor’s indifferent tone takes me aback. I glance at Jax to see what she might be thinking, but she only drums her fingers idly against her belt.
Taylor closes her eyes, her brow furrowed in frustration. “Show me Sasuke’s files again.”
The researcher does as she says, handing over a stack of papers and pointing out several lines on the top page. The two sit quietly for a moment, flipping the pages, occasionally nodding.
“Far more consistent.” Taylor’s voice is clipped and efficient in a way that sends a chill down my spine. She closes the folder and begins to rub her temples anxiously. “It’s too significant a difference. He would have been perfect. And now he’ll just die at home,withering away to nothing in a couple of years. What a shame. What awaste.”
“You won’t be able to continue on with him,” the researcher says. Then his voice lowers. “At least, not with his parents as willing participants.”
Taylor pauses to look sharply up at him. “What are you suggesting?”
“I’m just stating the facts.” But I can hear an unspoken suggestion in his words.
She puts her hands down and studies his face. She doesn’t speak for a long moment. “We’re not in the business of kidnapping children,” she says.
“You want to save his life. How is that any worse than what will already happen to him? It’s like you said. He’ll be dead soon.”
Taylor sits with her fingers laced together, lost in thought. I wonder if she’s thinking about the murder of her father, if she’s dwelling on her loss, her fear of death. Whatever’s going through her mind, it leaves a calm resolve on her face. Somethingrighteous.
“Those poor children,” she finally whispers, almost to herself. “What a shame.”
I can see it in her eyes. She thinks what she’s doing is noble.
The realization makes me shrink back in horror. It reminds me of the determination on Hideo’s face when he first told me about the algorithm.
The image lingers in my mind as I consider both of them, willing to do terrible things to save the world.
“If this experiment succeeds,” the researcher goes on, “you are going to have on your hands one of the most lucrative technologies in the world. The amount someone would pay for it would be astronomical. And think of all the lives you’d save.” He leanscloser. “We are never going to find another patient better matched for this trial. I can promise you that.”
Taylor rests her chin against one hand as she stares out into space. The light in the room has shifted before she speaks again. “Make it quick. Make it discreet.”
“Of course. I’ll start putting together a plan.”
“Good.” Taylor takes a deep breath and straightens in her chair. “Then I recommend we move forward with Sasuke Tanaka for our Project Zero.”
20
Project Zero.
My heart seizes. I’d thought—Hideohad thought—that this nickname was just a hacker name, his marker. And it was. But what it really referred to was what Taylor called him. Project Zero.StudyZero. Their first experiment.
Taylor lets out a deep sigh before closing the folder in her hand and sliding the papers back toward the researcher. “Sasuke’s time is limited. We can’t afford to wait around.”
Before I can fully process what I’d just witnessed, the scene shifts to a small boy crouched in one corner of a room. Immediately, I recognize this as the same room I’d seen Sasuke in during our Duel.
So Taylor had taken him. She was the one responsible for that day in the park, when a young Hideo called for his brother and never heard him answer. She unknowingly triggered the start ofthe NeuroLink itself, the result of Hideo’s overwhelming grief. The reason Tremaine’s lying unconscious in a hospital bed.
She’s the reason why I’m even here, ensnared in this madness.
The scene now seems like dawn, with the barest hint of light from the windows, but Sasuke’s bed looks untouched, like he’s been sitting in the same spot all night. Instead, he stays in the corner with his knees tucked up to his chin, still wearing that white, long-sleeve sweater with the symbol embroidered on one sleeve. His fingers worry endlessly at the blue scarf around his neck.
