Asha has always been sick and now she's dying, but she has the choice to live at the cost of everything she knows to break the conspiracy keeping everyone indentured.
Welcome back!
We're on part 3 of Almost Everyone and Asha is thrust into the thick of a plot. She's also apparently the main asset and she doesn't know if that's a good thing or not. Dr. Mercy just doesn't know when to quit.
Nurse Mukami feigned another of those sympathy smiles. One more tube of blood was taken. Another vial of a smelly medicine emptied into Asha’s vein; one of many they’d collapsed several times. Nurse Mukami packed away the glass tube in a container lined with foil, then nodded before leaving the hospital room.
She’d left the tablet on the cabinet as usual. Asha hadn’t thought to look before, but now, after everything Mercy had said? Sliding off the hard bed, she grabbed it and swiped a finger over the screen. There, as plain as her scars, was her file. As expected, she was sick.
Mercy was wrong.
Footsteps clicked down the corridor outside. Asha pulled the comm-slab from her pocket and snapped the file to it. This would show Mercy. She wasn’t special.
“Asha, dear, I just got your latest results.” Nurse Mukami turned into the room, cradling another tablet. “Looks like your illness is getting worse. I’m sorry, my dear.” There was that fake sympathy again.
Asha shifted deeper on the bed, slipping her comm-slab back into her pocket. “What does that mean?”
“We need to schedule more treatments.” She looked away. “But not today. We can start tomorrow. Go home and get some rest. The medicine will make you feel bad for a few days while it works. Your taxi is waiting outside.”
She wrapped Asha’s coat over her shoulders, helped her off the bed, then led her down the corridor toward the front entrance. It was raining. A soft summer drizzle. And there was that forced smile again, on her face and on almost everyone else.
“Thank you, Nurse Mukami. I will see you tomorrow, then.” Asha folded her coat over her chest and braved the rain outside. Puddles scattered across the pavement soaked the socks inside her worn shoes. The taxi’s door swung open.
Mercy.
“Get in, Asha. This cold bites.” She shuffled to the other side.
Was Nurse Mukami watching? Asha’s heart pounded as she looked back. Gone. The driver wouldn’t let Mercy do anything to her, and standing in the rain was not a good idea if she was getting worse. She let out a sigh and got into the taxi.
“How did you know this was going to be my ride?”
“I didn’t. I asked to bring me here and wait. I was a bit pushy with you, and I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to put pressure on you.” Mercy rested a hand on hers.
“Don’t worry about it.” Again, Asha faked a smile. “I found something. You don’t have to worry about me anymore. I think the info you got was wrong.” She pulled out her comm-slab and handed it to Mercy. “See? They aren’t lying. There’s nothing special about me. They’re just trying to save me from my tumour. I’m getting more treatments now as well.”
Mercy gasped, lifting her hand to cover her mouth. “Asha…” She rested the comm on her thigh. “That’s not what I see here. I didn’t know how you got that tumour before, but I do now.” She gave her back the comm-slab. “Their treatment gave it to you, and now it’s growing over your heart.”
“You’re lying.” Asha swiped through the file. She had to be wrong. She’d seen it earlier and everything was fine.
“Asha.” She took Asha’s hand in hers. “They’re trying to kill you. They’re not going to let you live long at this rate. Who will look after your parents then?” There was no sympathy now, false or otherwise.
Crowds had gathered in the plaza for the start of the day. Brightly coloured garments filled it with life, flowing with the wind. Asha sat at a table outside one of the restaurants and waited. People passed by like nothing in the world was ever wrong. Mercy was late. She needed to be at the hospital in an hour.
Mercy had said she’d organised everything. Two months and this was the first Asha had heard from her again: a short message to meet her here at this time.
A hand rested on her shoulder, making her muscles tense.
“So sorry. I was waiting for the last thing for the plan.” Mercy slid around the table and sat on the garden chair opposite her. “Are you okay, Asha?”
Her cheeks turned hot. “Yes, I just thought…” She wrapped her sleeves over her knuckles. “Thought you weren’t coming.”
Mercy smiled and placed a hand over hers. “I’d never let you down. You’re too important.”
That was what she’d said the last time as well. “How? I’m no one special.” Mercy’s eyes saw the same thing in her that Dad did. Asha looked at the glass of water between them.
“Oh, but you are. MediCorp knows it, too. That’s why they lied to you and forced your parents to keep quiet.” She paused then took a deep breath. “The virus isn’t in you.”
Asha looked up and met her eyes, wrinkled at the corners from smiling. “That’s silly. I have that tumour, remember? Of course I have it. Everyone does.”
“Asha.” She put her other hand over Asha’s. “We looked at the samples. You don’t have it. I can’t say for sure exactly how they got the tumour to form until we examine you.”
“Examine? So you want to do what MediCorp has been doing all along. Why not leave me with them?” She pulled her hands away and tucked them under the table, between her knees.
Mercy’s eyes darted back and forth. “Not so loud, please, Asha?” She pressed a finger to her lips. “No, we don’t want to do the same as them. We want to help you so that we can find a cure.”
“You can find it without me leaving my parents.” The metal legs of the chair scraped over the concrete as Asha stood up. “I have to be at the hospital now.”
Mercy leaned over the table and grabbed her wrist. “Asha, listen a bit longer, please?” Her brows creased upward. Asha sat again and she let her go.
“Thank you.” Mercy sighed. “We can look after them for you, with trained professionals who know how to take care of your parents.”
It sounded too good to be true. Hope for a proper life like all these people seemed to have? Asha traced a finger along the random patterns on the marble table, less organised and deliberate than her scars.
“But Dad will worry if I disappear. And how will I refill?” She looked up and pointed to the outline of the GraceletTM under her sleeve.
Mercy dug into the bag hanging off her shoulder and pulled out a thick envelope, sliding it across the table. “This is our plan. Go through it when you’re alone at home. When you’re ready and choose to do it, call me.” She got up and smiled before walking off into the crowd.
It had been a bad idea to meet her.
Asha stood again. It was better to leave the envelope here. Her hand hovered over it.
But this could be her only chance. She pulled it to the edge of the table and opened the flap. While she walked to the hospital two blocks down, she read the first page enclosed.
‘First, you have to die.’
