Outcast: A Corporation Novel (The Corporation) (36 page)

Day twelve

Karis

I'm standing in front of the building whose address was on the slip of paper. It's a house. An old, worn out, empty house. It's made entirely of dark red bricks with a door covered by several planks of wood and a large dirt stained window on each side. It's abandoned, that's obvious. But it doesn't look like there's anyone in there to meet.

The air around me is dark and silent. I look at the lonely concrete step that leads up to the doorway. I take a breath and step forward. The wood is secured to the doorframe so the door itself is still free to move.

I reach in and turn the knob, letting it swing wide. I expect rusty hinges announcing my arrival to the entire street, but it moves smoothly and silently.

I glance over both shoulders and duck between slats of wood and into the darkness. It's an eerie place. Every inch of it is dressed in shadow blouses and cobweb skirts. There's wallpaper, hanging halfway down some of the walls, blowing in a draft I can't feel.

There's some sort of texture on the ceiling, because that's coming off too, like a cat’s used it as a scratching post. Curtains hang haphazardly from the tops of the windows, one end of their rod secured, the other almost touching the ground. There are only a few pieces of furniture in the space—an armchair with slashed upholstery, a tall dresser, and a small side table. All of these items lie clustered in the center of the room, drawers open, contents gone. Next to the pile is a heap of other odds and ends—a painting still in its frame, broken in half and lying on top of a toppled radiator. There's a lamp on its side, with the shade across the room. An empty box next to all of that. The flooring consists of raw subflooring. No carpet, no rugs, no smoothed or polished woods.

There's a narrow doorway leading to the back of the house. I step through and into the kitchen. It's empty of furnishings except for a stained mattress thrown up against a wall and a lonely kitchen table chair sitting in the middle. The sink is full of trash, and so are the counters. Boxes and bags and cans.

Cupboard doors are open and hanging off, shelves inside either empty or piled with useless garbage. The floor is cluttered and stained. A lonely bulb hangs from the ceiling. It looks like not long after the house was abandoned, it was ransacked.

I turn in a small circle, looking for any signs of the person I'm supposed to be meeting. When I see none, I go back to the living room and wait. I perch on the edge of the stale armchair, the stench of mold and must enveloping me.

The seconds pass by slowly, and I'm not sure how long I'm there, but eventually I hear a noise towards the back of the house. A door being opened and closed, followed by heavy footsteps in the kitchen. There's a small clatter and then the footsteps pick up again, along with something being dragged across the floor. I wait for him to enter the front room before I say anything. My heart pounds in my ears.

A man stands in the doorway, the kitchen table chair pulled behind him. He swings it around and sets it up across from mine. He stares at me. There's just enough light coming through the front windows from streetlamps that I can see the changes from the last time we sat across from each other.

“You cleaned yourself up,” I say to Bak.

“Yeah, ya like it?” His voice is still gruff. “I had to go into the Inner City and set up a meetin’.”

“You look more like Dahn, now.” His hair is still long, down to his shoulders, probably, but it's held back in a ponytail. His white beard is trimmed short, showing off his square jaw and thick neck. He's more tanned than dirty now, but his eyes are still bloodshot. I guess he didn't escape everything Neech.

“It's where I'm from. My job was done, I had to go back to my real self.”

I nod as if I can relate, but more as just a thing to do to channel my nerves. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a long inhale.

“Smoking is still bad for you,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

“So are Black Market Marks.” He blows a stream of smoke in my direction. I wave it away with a frown. “But apparently, for you, not so much.”

“What do you want?” I ask.

“I think the right question is, what do
you
want?”

“I don't have time for games. You're the one who sent me the note.”

“But you're the one who sent the first message.”

“What are you talking about? I didn’t send you a message.”

“I got word there was a Comm from the station by my last post. No one would be stupid enough to use that Comm. Except for you.” He takes another long inhale, breathing out the smoke as he talks. “I figured you were trying to get a hold of me, so I thought I'd reach back out to you. See what it is you wanted and if it interested me.”

“Out of the goodness of your tar laced heart, you thought you would reach out to me to see what you could do to help me and what questions you could answer for me? Because, what, you're just a nice, misunderstood guy?”

“You've gotten sassy and a little insolent since we last talked.” He coughs and flicks his cigarette to the ground, grinding it with the heel of his boot.

“So I've been told. I'm tired and I have a lot on my plate, let's not play games. I'd rather just get straight to the point.”

“As would I.” He leans forward and takes me in, his eyes traveling over every square inch of me. “You're alive.”

“You noticed.” I lean forward in my chair as well, mimicking his posture.

“That's impressive.”

“I'm gathering that. Why?”

“You're the first to survive a faulty Mark.”

“So you were giving them out on purpose.”

“Of course we were.” He leans back, still eying me.

“Why?”

“Because those who sought to get one were obviously going to be trouble for the Corporation. This was just one way of stopping them. An effective way. But with you, it was different.”

“How so?” I lean back, too.

“I decided I wanted to perform my own little experiment. You were the first one to walk through my door.”

“Wait, so you decided to perform an experiment on the Corporations experiment?”

He nods.

“How?”

“I wanted to see if there was a way of changing the Mark without killing the subject. Of breaking it. DNA is a fickle and fragile thing. It's a lot easier to put something in it than to take something out. You were dead anyway, so I figured I might as well see if this would work, first.”

“And how would you have known if it worked or not?”

“I've been followin’ you. Watchin’ what you do, where you go, how you act. You haven't used your Mark once since wakin’ up. How did you wake up, by the way?”

I narrow my eyes. “I guess I'm stronger than I'm being given credit for.”

“Honey, ain't nobody that strong. But, no matter. I can find out what really happened. Akin will be interested to know someone has been handin’ out his antidotes without goin’ through the proper channels.”

I think of Rebeka. As much as I don't like her, she's still my mot her, and I don't want anything bad to happen to her. At the bare minimum, I still need someone on the inside who can help us when we need it. “I told you, I'm strong. I healed on my own.”

He barks out a laugh.

“Then why have an antidote for a faulty Mark? Why would the Corp want a way to undo what they've done if what they're doing is trying to guarantee its power?” I ask.

“Speak plainly.” The smirk has dropped off his face.

“If the Corporation designed the purpose of the faulty Mark, why in the world would they also design a way to reverse it?”

“They need to have power in all things. Designing something that only goes one way is dangerous. They needed to have a way to make the pendulum swing the other direction, if they needed it to. Listen, I have answers to things you need to know. Questions you're asking now and questions you don't know you should be asking.”

“And what makes you think I want these answers from you?”

“Because I'm your only source. There's no other place you can get answers from and still stay in Neech. And the moment you step inside Dahn, uninvited, is the moment you make life very hard for yourself. It doesn't take much to make Akin happy and thus keep your life, yours. The moment you disobey him or make him look the fool is the moment you sign your life away to him.”

I huff. “Sounds strikingly similar to recent advice.”

“You've been given it twice now. Heed it and stay put until Akin comes to get you.”

“Why? What is his plan for me? Does it have something to do with my brother? Have you seen Ajna?” The last question blurts out. Bak's eyes light with a smile.

“Ah, the life of a Sponsor. Now that you know the truth about Marks, that they have nothing to do with destiny and everything to do with careful planning and manipulation on the Corporation's behalf, the same is true with Sponsors.

“It used to be Sponsors were taken because of their brains and skills and genetic makeup—to enrich the population of Dahn even more. They were put into the ranks of our scientists and leaders to make our cities better.

“More recently, Sponsors have been selected as a means of control and strength. Causing commotion for Akin? Pose a certain threat to the Corp's plans? Simple. Take one of their children as a Sponsor. The children don't mind. They get a new, spoiled life of privilege. Given everything anyone could ever want. Your whole life ahead of you, unweighted by the dirt and stench of a past lived in Neech.”

“What?” What is that supposed to mean?

“How much do you know about Sponsors, Karis?”

My words are tight. I know I'm going to have to dance to his tune before he'll give me the answers I'm looking for. “Not much. Just that they're taken from Neech to live in Dahn and we never hear from them again.”

“Yes. And do you know why the Sponsors never try to get back to their families in Neech?”

“Because they're chained to a wall in some room, I suppose.”

“Because they have no memory whatsoever of their past lives. They know nothing but the new ones they've been given, left with no desire to seek out those who love and miss them in the Outer City, because they don’t know they exist.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It's best for you to be prepared for what is to come, so I will explain it to you, so that you don't look completely uneducated when Akin comes for you.

“A Sponsor's memory of their past is completely erased. Oh, they know they came from Neech, and they know they're a Sponsor, but the Corporation takes away the details of the past eight years. They have no recollection of who their parents are, what it's like to hunger or thirst, or be cold. They know only the elation and pride of being selected. You could see Ajna today and he would not bat an eye or reach out for a hug in familiarity. He will taste your name for the first time, when they introduce you to him.”

“That's a lie,” I hiss. “My brother would never forget us.” But it makes perfect sense. What better way to control than to take away their desire to ever want to leave. “And if it is, I'll reverse it.”

“You could try, but you would be unsuccessful.”

“Just because a Sponsor forgets his family, doesn't mean his family forgets him. A parent could
never
forget about their child.”

“Ah, this is true, and a very dangerous fact. Which is why the Corporation has a contingency plan for them, as well.”

“Akin has a contingency plan for my family?”

“Ever stop to think about previous Sponsors, Karis?”

“No,” I snap, “I don't. Ajna is the most recent Sponsor, and I didn't know the last one. He was a year older than me and lived in a different section of Neech.”

“Because he was a different Caste than you, that's right.” He's smug in his words.

“Get to the point, Bak.”

“This house belonged to the last Sponsor's family.”

I look around. That’s impossible. This place is run down and abandoned. It looks like it's been that way for several years. A decade, even. People in Neech don't move, not even those in the higher Castes.

“Not long after he was chosen, his family became obsolete. The Corporation came in and did away with them. Either by accident or framing them for law breaking to get them Released. A mother and father were separated from their son and then taken away permanently. Anyone who knew the Sponsor intimately were also contained and eliminated. Any threat of retaliation was wiped clean. Leaving this,” he sweeps his arms wide, “an empty shell of a life that once was, but is no more.”

“You're saying this is what's going to happen to me?”

“Well, no, not you.” He folds his hands. “To your father. To Journey. To Eta. The more people you know, the more lives need to be scrubbed clean. You, however, will be safe inside the walls of Dahn. The rest of those you care about will not be so lucky. And there's nothing you can do to save them.”

“Akin wouldn't dare.”

“Oh, no?”

“I'll tell him he has to keep my family safe; that those I love are not to be harmed. If he doesn't agree, I won't work with him.”