Outcast: A Corporation Novel (The Corporation) (38 page)

“What on earth made you go there?”

“I needed to get answers and that was the only place that had them.”

“The west end?” Journey says with a question on her face. “You’re not allowed in that section of Neech. You’re Caste is higher than that.”

“Are the Gates broken?” Papa asks.

“No, the Gates are fine.” It’s not as easy to say as I thought it would be. “When I got sick from my faulty Mark and then got better, it changed me. It changed my Mark. It doesn’t work anymore.”

There’s silence and wide eyes all around. “Doesn’t work?” Eta says.

“The Gates don’t read it. I can go wherever I want.”

“Are you sure?” Papa asks.

I nod once. “I’ve been testing it, and so far…well, so far no Gate or scanner has noticed me.” The room is silent.

“How did this happen?” Ella asks.

I shrug a shoulder. “Bak said the Corporation was giving faulty Marks on purpose to control potential trouble makers. But he said he was conducting an experiment of his own, trying to find a way to break the Marks while keeping the subject alive. His experiment worked, I guess.”

“Bak? Who’s Bak?” Papa asks.

“Bak is the Black Market Artist who gave her the faulty Mark,” Adami says. “It’s who she went to meet with in West End.”

“You’ve been doing all this, without even telling me?” Journey is the worst kind of mad. The quiet kind with a foundation of extreme hurt.

“Why did you meet with him?” Papa says. “He works for the Corporation, it could have been a trap!” He shakes his head. “Did you even bother to think of anyone besides yourself when you were doing all this?”

“That’s not fair, Papa. I was doing all of this because I was thinking of everyone of you. I knew this could help us in our fight against Akin, but I needed to know exactly what it was I had.”

“How do you know you can trust him?” Eta asks.

I can’t explain my reasoning without subjecting myself to questions I’m not prepared to answer, and that shouldn’t be our focus right now. “I can’t explain it,” I say. “You’ll just have to trust me when I tell you I can. He may be working
for
the Corporation, but he’s not working
with
them. He’s the one that told me you were all in danger because Ajna was Sponsored. He promised to keep you safe if it came to that. He’s the one that told me about Ethan. He told me there were more people than we realized in Dahn who wanted to see Akin fail.”

“He’s a naturally giving and caring guy, is he? That he would just offer all of this information and help to you without there being anything in it for him?” Papa says. This is where I get my talent for seeing what hasn’t been spoken out loud. When it counts, my Papa misses nothing.

“We made a deal.”

Papa shoots up out of his seat. “A deal?!”

Ella reaches up to his hand and pulls gently. He looks down at her with a clenched jaw, but then his face softens. His chest expands and contracts with deep breaths. He sits back down. “What kind of deal?” His calm words are forced.

“A favor for a favor. He offered to protect you all if it came to that, in exchange for a favor from me in the near future. When I’m in Dahn.”

“What if this
favor
puts Ajna or yourself in jeopardy?” Journey says.

“Then I won’t do it,” I say simply. “But I couldn’t tell the man no to his face when he was offering to keep those I love safe and alive.” I take a deep breath. “Look, this isn’t up for discussion. I did what had to be done. Any of you would have done the same.”

“I’m sorry, Karis,” Papa says, “but you’re not putting our safety—our fates—in the hands of a Black Market Artist. Especially not without our consent. And I don’t hear you mentioning yourself in any of this talk of escaping or going under Bak’s protection.”

“Yeah,” Journey says. “What exactly is it you think you’ll be doing during this time?”

“I have a contract with Akin. If I don’t keep my end, Ajna is no longer safe. I have to stay here and go into Dahn when he calls. But I can’t do that knowing you’re all in danger, here in Neech.”

“Just like your mother,” Papa says. “Stubborn to the core.”

“Hardheaded, too,” I say with a faint smile. “I’m asking you all to do this because I care. I got us all into this mess, and this is the only way I can see to get you all out.” My voice is much softer than it has been all night.

Papa reaches out and takes my hand in his. “I promise, Karis, that if it really does come down to it, we will do what Bak says.”

Tears puddle in my eyes. “You will?”

He nods. “We will.”

“I just wish he could keep Ethan and Dhevan safe, too. I don’t trust that they’re with Raj. I can’t help but feel like he’s leading them into a trap,” I say.

“Me too,” Journey says.

“It’s because he is,” Eta says with brusqueness.

“What?” I gasp.

“Calm yourself child, Ethan knew it was that way from the beginning. And what’s more, he knew the kinds of things they were going to find out there.”

“But, how?”

“I guess it’s my turn, now.” She sounds annoyed at the fact. “Ethan and I have discovered some things about what the Corporation is up to. The sickness, Maute, it’s being used to change the body.”

“How?” Ella says. She doesn’t seem upset, more fascinated by the claim.

“I’m still working on that part, but it would seem those who survive the sickness on their own—without the cure—are changed on inside and out. We think it’s to better survive the Further. To make a better soldier.”

“Ajna survived, so that would mean—”

“I would have to do some tests to see if our theory holds true with him. So far, I’ve only had access to those who have survived it on their own. Surviving because of the antidote may have a different outcome.”

“How does it change the bodies?” Ella asks.

“The skin is thicker, tougher; to protect against the heat and sun. The hair is more like wool and they have an extra layer of eyelashes. Their body can hold more water in various organs and in their cells. The vein structure around their brain is altered, too.”

“But all of that,” Ella says with a pinched look on her face, “all of that would take years—possibly thousands of years—to evolve that way. But this would seem to be happening virtually overnight?”

“Exactly. Which is why the disease tortures the host’s body the way it does while they’re still alive. That’s my theory, anyway. For now. When you come back to the house, I’ll show you what I have. It’d be nice to get the opinion of  an Inner City Medic as to what may be going on.”

“Yes, please. I’m eager to.”

“Ethan saw the kind of soldier they were manufacturing, so he had a good idea of what waited for them out in the Further. He’ll be fine, child.”

We all sit and absorb the different truths that have been spoken. There were a lot, but I can see from the expressions on everyone’s faces that they are glad for it all.

“So, what do we do now?” I ask. “It’s not like we have a solid plan—or any plan at all—to bring Akin to his knees or to destroy the Corporation.”

“The only thing we can do,” Papa says. “Take it one day at a time, and face our battles as they come, together.”

“We have more than Akin has,” Adami says. “We have an evolving plan, people on the outside and people on the inside. We have passion and patience and a desire to make the lives of those we know and love better. And most importantly,” he says with a knowing smile, “we have you.”

I smile sadly. I can’t help but feel his confidence is ill-placed. I don’t want that kind of responsibility or pressure. I tie my fingers in his and squeeze. I couldn’t have a better group of people to fight this battle with, though. But my heart is sad; I want Ethan here by my side too. I need him.

And I didn’t realize how much I needed him with me—next to me—until right now.

Day fourteen

Ethan

Whatever group broke us out of the training camp is coming back for us tonight. I won't lie; the anticipation is getting to me. I can tell it's getting to Dhevan, as well. We haven't had the chance to talk much in the past two days; Ansel has been keeping him busy with their small patch of crops and Mae has me doing laundry and dishes and other household chores.

Dinner is impressive for the supplies they have. There are some greens from their garden, a couple of rabbits that—I hate to admit—smell pretty good, and a hunk of what Ansel claimed was meat, but that I saw coming from a can. There are rolls but no butter. But I don't plan on complaining.

“How was your time in the house?” Ansel asks. “Did Mae take good care of you?”

“I see she taught you how to fold laundry in a decent fashion,” Dhevan says.

I've come to just go with the punches. There's been so much teasing, Ansel and Dhevan’s jabs could have filled a few lifetimes.

“Yes, it's true. I've been learning to do laundry and fold it and even cook a bit, but that only ups my pedigree.” All three of them snigger.

“So tell us, boys, now that it's your last night, what brought you to the camp? We were told you were prisoners.”

“In our city, we grew up with stories about the Further. That it's a dangerous place and if we ever set foot in the barren wasteland, we would die from exposure or be eaten by cannibals. We were told our cities were the last; there was nothing out there left living,” Dhevan says.

“The Further?”

“It's everything that surrounds our city,” I say. “The desert.”

Dhevan's fork drops to his plate with a clatter. “No, it's everything that surrounds
my
city.”

All my pent up frustration comes out. “What is your problem?”

“I have a problem with people who try to pretend to be someone they aren't. So, you're my problem.”

I thought we were back on good terms. Or, as good as our terms have ever gotten. I guess I was wrong. Ansel and Mae sit back and watch the exchange with bland expressions.

“I've done nothing but try to help you people; risking my life to bring you the truth, defying my father to be with Karis. Volunteering to come out into the Further to bring back hope of something better and help to make that happen. Before I came, you all were too scared to do anything. You were fine with the status quo!”

“
You people?
That's what I mean. We're from a different city, not a different world. But in your head, you're better than us, thinking you're our savior. We don't need you to change things; we were doing that on our own.”

“But how long has it taken you? And where's your fire? Most of the citizens of the Outer City are too spineless to do anything. It wasn't until I started doing the newsletters—”

“Don't even get me started on the newsletters.” Dhevan throws his napkin down on the table. “How could you possibly know
anything
about Neech when you've grown up inside the palace of the Corporation's walls in the heart of Dahn? Your hands are smooth and soft from lotions and soaps and baths. Ours are hard, calloused, and stained with dirt because of the work we’re forced to do so you and your kind can keep living your cushy life, refusing to believe what the world is really like.”

I sit back in my chair. “So that’s what you really think of me?” I knew I wasn't his favorite person, but I had hoped, because Karis cared so much for him, we could at least be friendly. “That my intentions aren't good and I don't really want to help?”

“How could you? Helping us would risk the comforts of your life.”

“I want to help because it's the right thing to do. I want to help because my father is an evil man doing bad things. I want to help because things need to change. Because everyone deserves to be free and have the kind of life they can make for themselves, not the kind of life someone else decides they should have.”

There's a rigid silence in the small room. I know I’ve far from convinced him, but I've said enough to make him reconsider some of his beliefs. I hope.

“I think this one will fit right in,” Mae says with a satisfied look on her face. “He has the heart and the passion to lead the change.”

“And so will this one,” Ansel says of Dhevan. “He has the fire and the strength to make the change. They’re a good team. If they don’t kill each other, first.”

I pick up my plate and take it to the counter, setting it down. “I've lost my appetite. I'm going to my room to wait for the others. Call me when they get here.”

“Sit down,” Mae says with finality. “This conversation isn't over. In this house, we don’t leave fights un-fought.”

I don't know what it is about mother figures, but they seem to have a power to make you obey, whether you want to or not. I take my seat and look at the table cloth. It's yellowed by the years, and I see small stains of meals past. I wonder what lives this tablecloth has seen, what conversations and families.

“Where exactly does each of you come from?”

“And no fighting,” Ansel adds.

Neither one of us adds anything. Maybe waiting for the other to speak.

“I don't care who answers, but one of you'd better,” Mae says.

I keep my face in the direction of the table cloth, but drag my eyes up to look at Dhevan. He's looking at me, too, but I'm not able to read his expression. I take a breath and sit up a little straighter, so that I can be heard better. “Feel free to correct me at any point you think I'm wrong,” I throw at Dhevan.

“No problem,” he says.

“Boys.”

“Dhevan is from Neech, or the Outer City. I'm from Dahn, the Inner City. As you can guess, my city is surrounded by his city. It's nicer and wealthier and all on the backs of those living in the Outer City. Neech is dirty, and broken, and poor. They are the slaves of Dahn.”

“Why is that?” Mae asks.

“Both of our cities are run by the Corporation. A large organization that is supposed to run our cities to the betterment of both.”

“But they only run it to the betterment of themselves,” Dhevan says.

I nod slowly. “That's true. The Corporation is headed by one man, President Akin Hughes.”

Molly and Ansel sit up straighter. “Akin Hughes, ya say?” Ansel says.

“Do you know him?” I ask, a bit surprised.

“Do you think the group knows exactly what it is they have here?” Ansel turns to Mae.

“How could they have?” Mae says back.

“No, no. You're right. They would have had no idea.”

“We know all about Akin Hughes,” Mae says, focusing back on us.

“So you know, then, that Ethan is his son?”

Her eyes widen. “A second son?”

My face heats up and my fingers get cold. “A second son?” I say, a bit breathlessly. “No, that's wrong.”

“It's very much right. His son ran away from Dahn years ago and found us. Twelve years, in fact.”

“You have a brother? And he's out here?”

Mae nods for me.

“He's not my brother,” I say, glaring at the tablecloth. I never wanted to be Akin's son, and when I found out I wasn’t, I was relieved. But knowing he has a real son—that I'm replaced, so easily, in the seconds it took to speak that truth—upsets me more than I'm comfortable with.

“Oh, get off it, Ethan!” Dhevan snaps. “Now you're going to pout and be upset because you're not Akin's one and only?”

I shoot up out of my chair, scraping the legs across the floor in a loud commotion. The dishes on the table top clatter noisily as I slam my fists down on the wooden surface. I muster all my hate and irritation into the look I shoot at Dhevan and it pushes him back a little.

“I say that he is not my brother because he is
not
my brother. Akin Hughes is not my father. My mother and father were killed to guarantee their silence. As were all the people who ever knew me or loved me. The
real
me. I was
stolen
from the life I knew, the people I loved, because of the sick and twisted desires of an insane man.

“I was made to forget everything sacred to me and indoctrinated with values and beliefs and ideas that were not my own strictly to further Akin's agenda. I’m fighting this war because it’s my war to fight. It’s my home, and I want back it back. It’s the memories lost that I have the right to reclaim! And when the time comes, I will watch the life fade from the eyes of the man who took
everything
from me. So ditch your misplaced hatred and put your energy into something that will actually make a difference!”

The only sound that fills the room is my heavy breathing. I close my eyes and take a calming breath, slowing my heartbeat back to normal. I pull my chair up and sit down, straightening the silverware and toppled glass.

Ansel, Mae, and Dhevan give each other wary glances. Dhevan speaks quietly, with a little bit of an apology to his tone. “I didn't know.”

“Obviously.” I pick up my napkin and fold it over on itself. “Neither did I until about a week ago. It's coming back in bits and pieces. I still don't remember everything. But the nightmares I’ve been having are apparently old memories trying to resurface.”

“What about Karis? Does she know?”

I shake my head. “Things happened too fast. I didn't have time to tell her. Eta knows, but that's only because the nightmares kept waking us both up at night. She concocted a tea that helped me remember what really happened.”

“How did you manage to forget an entire life?” Ansel asks.

“The Corporation reserves the right to take a Sponsor from a Jatis. A Jatis is a ceremony where our eight-year-olds find out what their calling is. It's not a common occurrence. There have only been three that anyone living can remember. I was the second. Karis' little brother, Ajna, was the third.”

“Karis?” Mae says.

I look up. “Someone we both care deeply about.” Mae nods. “When the Corporation takes a Sponsor, there's a drug that's given that wipes out the person's past and lets the giver create whatever history they want. That's what happened to me. The drug isn't permanent, though, and needs to be administered on a regular basis. If it isn't, then old memories start to come back.”

“And that's what happened to you?”

“Yes. And now I know part of the reason why I was chosen. Akin's real son ran away. He needed a replacement.” My words don't escape the bitterness I hold.

“And Akin's son is coming with the people who are coming for us?” Dhevan asks.

“The people who are coming for you have been looking for Neech and Dahn for a very long time. More importantly, they've been looking for Akin.”

“Why? Who are these people? What do they want?”

“They want what you want, freedom. And they've been working hard to make it happen.”

“What do you mean?”

A new voice answers the question. “I think it's time we tell them the real history of the Corporation.”

We all turn in our seats. Standing in front of us is a tall, tough looking girl, her blond hair pulled back. Next to her, is a slightly taller boy with a scruffy jaw. His chin is square and his hair is down to his shoulders.

Dhevan's voice holds nothing but disbelief. “Kavin?”

“It's good to see you again, buddy.” Kavin's smile is bigger than life. He takes the farmer into a hug that contains several hearty slaps to the back.

“You’re not dead!” Dhevan says when they pull apart.

“Nope, decided to skip that part.”

“I’m glad to see it. Is Akin's son with you?”

“Kayde? Nah, he doesn't usually make these runs with us. Not enough excitement.”

My stomach sinks. D’mitri expects me to bring back Akin's son. Karis’ Pair is alive and well. Life as I know it is changing again.

And once again, I don’t know where I fit.