Zero Rem Novels & Stories

Making my head spin, while sending my senses and nerves into overdrive. It's Zane, well it's his scent. He smells like the forest after rain and cinnamon. Not the sugary sweet kind, but the hot and spicy kind. Like red hots or fireball whisky, my favorite kind. 'Mate' sounds off in my head for the second time in my life. Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me.

"I'm calling for a town hall meeting tomorrow at 9:00 am. We will be addressing serious violations by certain senior executives. The company will not tolerate misconduct." I stared at the message and recalled Jake's cold betrayal. Then, I sent a text to Mr. Skylar. "There's something I'd like to flag for you regarding the 50-million deal and the subcontractor involved, Mr. Skylar. Tomorrow at 9:00 am, I invite you to come to our company for a little show. After all, your money doesn't grow on trees."

Static electricity made my hair stand up. "I don't like this," Null whispered, her light flickering nervously. "None of us do," I said. "But we need rest." Subject 13 found the main terminal, and Null interfaced with it. The lights came on with a weak buzz. Then a voice spoke from the speakers. "Welcome back, Subject Zero." I froze. "Subject Zero?" Kieran turned to me. "That was your designation before they gave you a name." "I never knew that."

Here is the content of the chat. Zero: "Good morning, my future. Are you still able to hold your miss for me?" Zeva wanted to reply, "No, I can't afford it. I really miss you. Come on, please, hurry back here." However, Zeva's sense of prestige is very large to be able to type those sentences. In the end, Zeva just chose to read it, without replying. Zeva wants to know whether Zero will be grumpy and spam-chat her or not.

Time to end this one way or another. ***

truth. -o0o-

Noah made a show of trying to divide 130 by 0 on his fingers, “…infinitely more people than you, yet are not considered dangerous, then why should you be considered dangerous?” Astar Levi couldn’t understand just when, how, and where the suffocating gloom within his chest had disappeared to, but right now, the only thing he felt was a ticklish warmth. So cozy, so gentle, like a butterfly kiss. Unbeknownst to him, the corners of his mouth twitched upwards, “There is just one of me, but who knows how many deer.” “That’s true,” Noah nodded, “But 0 multiplied by the number of deer is still 0, ah!”

She looked down at the dark screen, then back up at me with a playful tilt of her head. "What's the code, Mr. Lombardi? Or is it some top-secret biometric scan?" I felt a ghost of a bitter smile touch my lips, but it didn't reach my eyes. "Nothing that high-tech. It’s just numbers." I paused, "It's Remo’s birthday. Zero-five, one-two."

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So this was what it felt like, to finally be understood. But when I lit up the screen again and saw the next headline, something hit me even harder than that apology had. #Ten Thousand Patients Sign a Joint Petition to Clear Dr. Nathan Cole's Name# There was no "Trending" tag on this one. Just a plain, unassuming "Recommended" label—one that somehow carried more weight than anything else I'd seen all week. My fingers trembled a little as I tapped it open. The video opened on darkness. Then a single light came up, illuminating a face lined with wrinkles, impossibly kind.