Caste (The Corporation) Page 6

  “Karis, get down here.” The startled voice of Papa cuts through my haze of disbelief with a sharp slice. Something in his tone makes me drop my brush on the floor and fly out of my room and down the stairs.

  “What?” I say with panting breaths. “What’s wrong? Is it Ajna?” I look at his still form. He seems peaceful and no worse than a few moments ago. But Papa and Eta are glued to the television screen. Papa’s shaking his head, Eta’s stiff fingers fidgeting at her mouth.

  Papa looks at me with the saddest eyes I’ve seen since Momma left. “You’d better to sit down.”

  My head goes light, and my body starts to grow uncomfortably hot. I reach behind me and fumble for the chair I know is there. I sink into it, staring at the television. Even though I’ve prepared for the worst, I’m still having a hard time processing what I’m hearing.

  A throat clears through the television speakers. Then the carefully articulated voice of Akin Hughes, the Corporation President, comes through.

  “...and while it should not be made practice to believe what’s heard on the streets, some rumors have their merit.”

  My blood runs cold, and somehow, I know the rumor he’s talking about.

  “It has come to the attention of the Corporation that there has been an influx in the obtainment of Black Market Marks.

  "One in particular will hit close to home for some of you. Kavin Sharma has recently obtained such an atrocity and the only possible outcome has resulted. Mr. Sharma's Mark is faulty—as all Black Market tattoos will be—should anyone still be tempted to defile their body in such a way.”

  I let out a choked sob. My hand flies to my mouth, and I hold it there, to keep more from escaping. My heart clenches, and I feel the little color that’s left drain from my face. Eta’s hand comes down on my shoulder, strong and warm, but it isn’t any comfort. She knew. She already knew about Kavin and didn’t tell me. This is why I haven’t seen him. I can’t believe I never noticed his Black Market tattoo. How could I not have noticed?

  “You knew,” I say in a low voice. “How could you not tell me?” I look up and see the pain in her eyes.

  “Karis, I couldn’t…”

  “This can't be true,” I whisper to myself. Kavin wouldn’t do this to his family. He wouldn’t do this to me. I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head, hoping that when I open them again, it will all be a lie.

  “Kavin's spiraled plunge into the darkening madness that is a result of breaking the symbols and polluting the ink of his Jatis has descended quickly. As punishment, Mr. Sharma and his family are to be Released into the Further tomorrow afternoon.”

  My mind reels as air gets harder to come by. I feel Papa staring at me, but I don’t have the sense to look at him, I’m too focused on what I’ve just heard. He reaches out and takes my hand.

  Akin Hughe’s voice continues to crackle through the left speaker. “What Kavin has done is a disgrace to his family and to all of Neech. Not contributing to the society and the Corporation the way each citizen is born to do—thinking that you are better than those around you, better than the Corporation—will get you nowhere. You pull your weight and contribute the way you’re best equipped to, and the city survives. If you don't, you will suffer the consequences. Let that remain fresh in all your minds.

  “To make sure the citizens of Neech understand the importance and the weight of Kavin's selfish decision, mandatory attendance is required at the Release tomorrow during afternoon break. Anyone not found in compliance will be joining the Sharmas in the Further. That is all."

  There’s a sharp electric snap, and the television goes black. I’m too shocked to move. My breath starts coming in labored gasps, and I barely register that my nails are digging into the wood of the chair like claws. A shudder rolls over my body, and the back of my throat aches as I hold back the sob my body is screaming to let go of.

  “Karis,” Eta says in a wounded voice, her eyes tugging down at the corners. “Are you okay?”

  “Sai’s only three months old,” I say of Kavin’s baby sister. I feel like I need to throw up. My stomach tastes sour. “Kavin.” I can't help the tears choking my eyes. “He's my Pair,” I whisper, “my other half.” If I speak any louder, I know I’ll start crying and never, ever stop. My life will never be the same. Without him, who will I love? Who will love me back?

  “I know sweetie,” Papa says. My pain’s reflected in his face, and I know he’s hurting as much as I am. Papa’s is a fixer, but this is something he can’t touch. He pulls me into a fierce, protective hug. “I'm so sorry,” he says before letting me go. He never has been good with emotions. That was Momma’s job.

  I’ve lived with the knowledge that Kavin and I were to be Paired since I turned ten, when the Corporation announced it with all the other Pairings. We’d always been friends. It’s rare to have what Journey and Dhevan have, but I’d hoped that in time, Kavin and I would join them and over the years, we have. I’ve grown to love my Pair. Deeply. That will never be a possibility, now. Kavin will die, and I will be alone. No one gets a second chance at a Pairing.

  “This is wrong,” I say, bunching my hands into fists. My nails dig into the meaty flesh of my palms. The pain reminds me that this nightmare is a reality. “It's wrong,” I whisper to myself, pinching the tears from my eyes. The heat of anger spreads through my body. My head throbs, feeling like my skull’s closing in on my brain.

  I shrug off Papa and Eta’s hands without a word and stand to leave. They don’t stop me, and they don’t try to talk to me more, which I appreciate. The stairwell is nothing but a dark, tight tunnel as I walk back to my room.

  I don't bother to change out of my dress as I drop into bed. I bury my head in my pillow and let out the biggest scream I can. It tears at my throat as it escapes. Then I cry until I have no more tears to give. My head pounds, my eyes are swollen, and I can't breathe through my nose.

  When sleep finally descends, it isn't the release I’m hoping for. Instead, my dreams hold Kavin. We’re in the dark streets of Neech. He has my brother, and he’s running away.

  D ay two

  Six

  I wake up the next morning with a splitting headache, digging the heels of my hands into my eyes in an attempt to squeeze the dense throb out of my swelling brain. Truth engulfs me like a rushing flood—Ajna’s sick, and Eta’s downstairs trying to figure out what’s wrong.

  A hope hits me so strong I can’t find air. Maybe he’s better. I sit up and am knocked flat by another memory—Kavin’s being Released this afternoon. I get out of bed and go downstairs with a numbness reserved for the dead.

  The lower level of our apartment is silent and dark, only the faint glow of the dying fire lights the room. Ajna lies in the same spot as last night. In the shadows, it looks like nothing’s wrong. Papa’s slumped over in a chair, gentle snores escaping from between his lips. I walk over to feed wood to the embers, re-awaking the fire. Déjà must have brought over Eta’s wood during the night.

  “Sleep well?” Eta says from the kitchen table.

  I put a good half dozen logs in the flames. “No. You?”

  Eta shakes her head. “Come, sit. I'll make you some breakfast. No doubt your day is going to be a long one.”

  I take one last look at my brother, resisting the itch in my fingers to reach down and brush his skin. He looks healthy, lying there sleeping. Then the logs catch fire and light crawls over his features, and I am reminded that he’s far from healthy. His lips have lost their color, and his hair looks like night against his paling skin.

  “Here's some tea. I'll make you some oats.” She hands me a hot mug, which I cup between my fingers.

  “Eta?”

  “Yes, dear?”

  “Could Ajna have gotten this from someone else?” I draw a small figure eight with my finger on the table's surface.

  “It's possible. I'm not positive what it is yet, so there's no saying for sure.” I can feel her appraising me. “Why? Is there someone else in the city that’s sick
?”

  I stare hard at the table’s worn surface, not wanting to meet her eyes. I trace where Ajna carved a crude chicken when he was four.

  “Karis,” Eta says, “if there’s someone else in Neech with this same sickness, I must get them quarantined. We have no idea what this is or how many people it can effect.”

  I hesitate, unsure if I want to do this to my best friend or not. Ajna takes a shuttering breath and I pinch my eyes tight. “Journey mentioned yesterday that Kerick was sick. She didn't tell anyone because his Jatis was coming up.”

  Eta sucks in her breath while pounding her mug of tea on the table’s surface. “That silly girl!” she curses. “Thinking of herself before the good of others.”

  “Do you think Kerick gave this to Ajna?”

  She takes a deep breath, calming herself. “I won't know anything until I examine him.”

  “Karis...” Ajna's faint voice sounds like it did back when he carved the chicken, small and vulnerable.

  I push back my chair and go to his side. His eyes flutter open as a strained smile stretches his lips.

  “Morning, sleepyhead. Feeling any better?” I ask, brushing his hair back. His forehead’s sticky with sweat.

  “A little.” He starts to cough.

  “Hey, the big man's up,” Papa says, stretching his arms wide. He sounds optimistic, but I can see the doubt in his eyes.

  “Morning, Papa.” Ajna's attempt at an energetic attitude sounds forced and mutated.

  “You look good.” Papa bends over to ruffle Ajna's hair. Then he kisses my head.

  “Did you stay there all night?” I ask.

  He nods as he takes my place at the table, digging into the oats Eta has set down. I don't mind. I'm not hungry enough to eat them, anyway. “Wanna sit up and watch the bulletin together?” I ask my little brother.

  Ajna brightens slightly and nods his head. “Yeah,” he manages to get out. His voice is rough and croaky, like his throat is a land cracked from drought.

  I lift him into a sitting position, propping his back and neck with extra pillows and blankets while Eta flips on the television. Right on schedule, the Corporation's symbol flashes on the screen, dimming into a video feed of the prior night's festivities. It shows brief clips of the Candidates and which caste they went to. Nothing more is said about the Release.

  “There's Kerick!” Ajna points out excitedly, ending in a fit of coughs.

  I press my wrist to his forehead. Still hot. I give Eta a worried glance. She grabs a bowl of water and a rag, walking over as two knocks sounds at the door.

  “Go ahead, Karis, I'll take care of him.”

  “It's just the—”

  “—Newsletter!” Ajna finishes for me. Cough, cough, cough.

  I smile and walk to the door. I’m glad he’s still feeling well enough to be excited by this stupid thing. “Ohhh,” I say with exaggerated interest, “looks like a good one.” I hold it out for Ajna.

  “Read it to me?”

  My heart cracks a fraction of an inch. “You got it, buddy.” His paled face and sunken grey eyes tell me I may not have the opportunity again. My throat goes tight. I pat his hand, settle onto the floor beside him, and start to read.

  “Believe it or not, realms exist and thrive outside the Corporation's control and influence, but they don't want you to know about them. We call it the Further. The Corporation wants to scare you into staying where you are so they can fill your heads with lies. They tell you about the savageness of the Further—cannibals, wild animals, poisoned resources, a barren wasteland with NOTHING to offer. Those are lies. They know that if citizens knew the truth, they'd have no one slaving for them day in and day out so they can live their lavish lives and have their garish parties.

  “There are cities in the Further. Cities that exist the way Neech and Dahn used to. They exist the way the rest of the world does. Cities and people WITHOUT Marks or Pairings or Releases. The Corporation wants you to believe the world is the exception to the way of life, but the reality is, the Corporation is the exception. The way we should be living is in freedom, not caged like beasts of burden.

  “The time is fast approaching when each of us will have to make a decision: stay and have our lives decided for us—or go out and make our own destinies. So, as we all bear witness to the Release today, keep in mind that the Sharmas aren’t being sentenced to death, they are being given the chance to live.”

  The house is quiet when I finish. This is the first time I’ve read a full article, and what it says speaks volumes to me. A life without the Corporation or Marks? A life completely foreign to any we’ve every known? It’s both terrible and fantastic at the same time.

  “Wow,” Ajna says in awe, his eyelids drooping. “He's amazing, isn't he, Karis?”

  “I'm starting to think there’s something to your admiration,” I say, sweeping hair back from his forehead again.

  “I wanna meet him. Do you think I can meet him?”

  Sadness fills my heart, and I swallow back the flood of emotion constricting my throat. I count to five before I trust myself to speak. “Of course you can, buddy.”

  “You should probably get ready for work,” Papa says in a gentle voice.

  I nod and walk in silence up the stairs to change. Papa puts a tender hand on my arm as I pass. “Being strong for him is the best thing right now. You're doing great.” He gives me a hug. “Try not to work too late tonight.”

  “I don't plan on picking up any extra shifts, if I can help it. Corp’s rules be damned. I need to be with Ajna.”

  My brother’s wet coughs follow me up the stairs.

  S even

  Journey is waiting for me at our usual spot.

  “Mornin’,” she ventures with caution. “I heard about Kavin.” She takes my hand in hers. “I’m so, so sorry, Karis.”

  “The entire city of Neech heard about Kavin,” I say a bit harsher than I mean. “I guess we know why he wasn’t at the Jatis.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “That’s a silly question to ask, Journey. What could you possibly do?”

  “Karis…” But there’s nothing more to say. Nothing else to offer. So she lets her voice trail off.

  I walk past her, tugging my hand from hers. I don’t want to be so mean to her; she’s only trying to comfort me, but the last thing I want to do is talk about my Pair. “Ajna's sick,” I say instead.

  She gasps, quickening her steps to catch up. “I'm so sorry, Karis. Have you told Eta?”

  “She’s been at our house all night,” I say in a flat voice. “Doing what she can, giving him yarrow root.” We walk in silence a few more strides.

  “What's she say it is?” Journey’s voice is incredibly small, as if she already knows the answer.

  “She doesn’t know. He has a fever and sweats, he won't eat anything, and he can barely keep his eyes open. Coughing a lot, too.” I pause, a swell of anger I can’t control rising higher and higher. “Any of that sound familiar to you?” I’m clenching my fists at my side, trying to take deep, steadying breaths.

  Journey thinks about it and then shakes her head. “No, it doesn't—wait.” She stops in the middle of the road. “You don't think he got sick because of Kerick, do you?”

  “You have to admit it's a little suspicious.” I don't turn around. “Kerick and Ajna hang out all the time. First Kerick's sick—and you don't tell anyone about it—and now my brother can barely breathe, and he looks like he could die at any second.”

  “You can't seriously blame me for this?” She reaches out and grabs my wrist, jerking it with enough force to spin me around. “Karis?”

  I wipe away a thin streak of tears from my already salt-crusted face. “Maybe if you’d told someone about your brother, Ajna wouldn't be lying in the middle of our living room floor, barely breathing.”

  “Karis, please.” Journey's brow is creased, and her eyes are panicked. “I know Kerick's sickness isn't related. He's already feeling better. And if we’d th
ought it was serious, we would’ve gotten Eta involved.”

  “Any sickness is serious, Journey. You've lived in Neech your entire life; you know these things. We hardly ever get sick and survive!”

  “I can't believe this—you’re actually blaming me!” Her panic turns to anger so fast her cheeks are stained deep red-purple.

  “It's because of your selfishness—your constant selfishness,” I say, “that this happened!” I’m yelling and crying so hard because I’m starting to believe it’s her fault I might lose Ajna. “When will you stop thinking about yourself and start thinking of others? When will you start thinking period?” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I cringe, hunching my shoulders close to my ears. But I don’t take them back.

  Her green eyes swell with tears, and her jaw tightens. “You're my best friend, Karis, and I always think of you.” Her voice is strong but gentle. “You're upset, and I understand that, which is why I'm going to forgive you for what you just said. But it still hurts to hear those words coming out of your mouth.”

  What she says shames me, but I can’t stop blaming her. “You should’ve told someone,” I say, holding on to my stubbornness. I’m not ready to forgive. Forgiving her won’t make Ajna better.

  “Your brother’s sickness isn't because of Kerick,” Journey says with force.

  “I guess we'll see.”

  “What's that supposed to mean?” Her eyes widen, and her voice is barely at a whisper. I don't say anything, only look down at the chipped black road. She grabs my arm. “Karis, what's that supposed to mean? Who did you tell about Kerick?” Panic returns to her words.

  I finally drag my eyes up to meet hers. “Eta needed to know, so she would know how to treat my brother.”

  Journey’s hands fly to her mouth. “You promised not to tell,” she says through her fingers. “If the Corporation finds out, they’ll take us away!” She turns and runs in the direction of her house.