Caste (The Corporation) Page 7
I know she has nothing to be afraid of, but I don't want to tell her that. Let her feel for a second what I’m going to have to live with for the rest of my life.
७
Noon break comes both too quickly and too slowly. All morning I’ve been trying to distract myself from thinking about what’s going to happen in a matter of minutes. The announcement chime sounds followed by Akin Hughe's voice.
“Please follow your foreman to the Western Gate for the Sharma’s Release.”
With a mechanical screech, the speakers go silent. I take my time putting away my sewing, waiting until most of the workers are heading out of the factory. I don’t want to be around the women I work with. The morning was hard enough with the pity in their eyes and empty words of comfort. As long as no one says anything to me, I can pretend this is happening to someone else. Denial is the strongest salve I know of.
The atmosphere is somber as we walk single file down the road towards the Western Gate. Journey isn’t waiting for me at the foot of the stairs; I half expect her to be there. I don’t see her now, either, but then I’m not really looking. I want to be as alone as possible for what’s about to happen.
I wait with the others from the factory, gathered in a small pool across from the Western Gate, nerves anxious and raw. The rest of Neech fills in around us like a swarm, their low talking sounding like the droning of bees. I can only see those ahead of me, it looks like the lumber mill and steel mill are already here, a few hundred in all. The rest will be behind our group.
A chain link fence with loops of sharp wire at the top encircle the city, keeping us in and whatever’s out there…out. I can make out the faint shimmer of the Biozone as it connects with the ground a dozen or so feet outside Neech’s fence. Dull, hard mountains stand to the west and the Further to the east. A steady hum reverberates through my body as the gate emits its faint pulse of light. Electricity crackles through the air and the hair on my scalp tingles as it lifts up from the root.
I stare out at the Further. It’s deceiving, the way it looks. One would think it’s a harmless plain of earth. Flat brown land and yellow dry grass. No water. But I know the truth. As far as I can see, Death waits to welcome anyone who steps foot into its domain. I try to swallow but my throat has gone arid with these thoughts. Kavin and I used to talk about how fun it would be to have twins. It’d be hard, but we’d make it work. Now we’ll never know.
Devna and Ami line up beside me. “We heard ’bout Ajna,” Devna says softly, taking my hand.
“How'd you hear about my brother?”
“Honey,” Devna pats my hand and gives me a sad smile. “There ain't a thing goes on in this city ol’ Devna don't know about.”
“Do you know how to cure him, then?” I ask bitterly, taking my hand from hers. I walk away.
Before I get too far I hear Ami say, “…first her Momma, then her Pair, now her brother…”
Her comment only ignites my anger. The last thing I want is pity. I square my shoulders and weave through the thickening crowd, settling between workers from the sanitation unit. I should be safe here. A wide berth is usually given to them.
It’s almost silent, even though every citizen is present. Such a stark contrast to when we were all gathered together last night. A murmur of conversation floats just above the crowd; I can’t make out what they’re saying, but I know it has to do with the Release. At the thought of Kavin, my stomach pinches. After today, I’ll never see him again.
“Out of the way!” a rough voice shouts from the back of the crowd.
I turn around and watch the sea of people part for a small group of Military Guards—about a dozen or so—making their way towards us. The Guards clear a path, a few falling back to make sure the walkway remains clear.
My stomach starts to churn. I don't want to be here, forced to remember Kavin in this moment. The words from this morning's newsletter crash through my mind, “The Sharmas are not being sentenced to death; they are being given the chance to live.” I hope it’s true. I hope that wherever they go, they'll find someone to help Kavin, to make him better. Above all else, I hope with all my heart that, somehow, I’ll see him again.
The head Military Guard takes a step forward and raises his voice, his words ringing through the crowd like gunfire. “My name is Sergeant Nan. If any citizen steps out of line or tries to interfere with the Release, I have expressed permission to use deadly force.”
Heads turn, and gazes shift; I follow suit. It’s then I notice that each soldier is armed with a black gun. No citizen so much as lets a whisper escape their lips. A scuffle rises from the back of our assembled group, exploding through the nervous silence.
Escorted by a Military Guard, each of the Sharmas are marched up the wide aisle, dressed in their best—part of the Corporation’s twisted presentation and their sick sense of humor. They look worn and tired, deep shadows beneath their eyes, their gates laborious. Some citizens watch in awe, others turn their heads, unable to make eye contact with those who are to be shunned by our community.
Jakob Sharma comes first. He walks with a Guard at his arm, but keeps his head high and shoulders back. Staring straight ahead, his footsteps are firm and decided. Sari Sharma is next and is a much different image than her husband. Her shoulders are stooped, her head hanging against her chest—defeated. There’s a Guard at each side, holding her up.
Halfway up the aisle, the Guards release their prisoners to walk the rest of the way alone. The Sharmas’ procession is slow and heart wrenching. Jakob has Sari close to his side. Her body shudders with each sob that escapes, filling the air with the only sound. Jakob pulls her tighter into his side, and I see the features on his face strain. He’s a proud man, and I know him well enough to recognize he’s trying to hold on to whatever composure remains. His fists are clenched, his jaw taught, and each step he takes is purposeful. He’ll be Released, but it’ll be on his terms. A small welling of pride pools in my heart.
Kavin is close behind, a Guard at each arm, pulling him along. I take in a sharp breath. This isn’t the boy I’m supposed to be Paired with. I pinch my eyes shut and push back the sudden tears along with the gruesome image. I conjure up every detail about how he looked when I saw him last.
He and his family had come over for supper. Kavin always had a way of making everyone smile. Especially me. He knew just the right things to say to carry a conversation, to flatter a person.
He looked so handsome—his black shirt snug against his chest. I'd blushed several times during the meal when he'd caught me staring at him and then would brush his hand over mine under the table. Sari had nagged him about his long dusty hair. “You need to cut it, Kavin,” she’d said. He brushed her off and winked at me, knowing I liked it better long.
Then, at the end of the night when I was putting things away in the pantry and our parents were talking, he sneaked in and kissed me. Light and gentle—but he never failed to make my heart flutter and make my skin shiver.
I open my eyes and let out a small cry. Kavin’s standing in front of me. His face inches from mine. “Kavin,” I whisper.
“Come on, brainless,” one of the Military Guards says, yanking his arm.
Kavin stumbles after, head hung, legs moving in a shuffling drag. My entire body is shaking.
A Black Market tattoo alters the very fiber of a person’s being; their DNA. If the body can’t handle the change, it starts to reject the tattoo, to fight it off. But because of how a Mark is connected to a person, their body ends up fighting against itself. Eta says it’s similar to a disease from Before that started in a place called Africa. Both destroy the body piece by piece.
The faulty Mark has done so much to Kavin’s body already. His muscles are gone, bones protruding from beneath his now oversized clothes. His cheekbones look like sharp blades against his pale and sunken skin. Dark circles surround his brown eyes.
Regardless of how much his body has changed, his eyes are still his. Bright and observant. Aware of e
verything. And I think that's what startles me so. I saw my Pair in those eyes.
When all the Sharmas stand at the front of Neech, at the cusp of the gate, Sergeant Nan speaks. “When one person acts in a selfish manner, to try and further himself instead of putting our two cities first, everyone suffers. Neech and Dahn cannot survive and thrive the way they have with members like this pulling them down.” He points a condemning finger at Kavin. “As a result, Release is mandatory for the offender and their family. A bad seed yields a crop of bad apples.” The soldier is cruel with his words, and Sari cries harder. “Kavin Sharma took it upon himself to get a Black Market tattoo. Of course it was faulty. You cannot change what you are born as. By trying to be something he wasn't, he stole from others. Now the faulty tattoo is taking his mind and body in payment.”
I look past the Guard to Kavin. His stooped head, gaping mouth. A thin line of saliva trickles down his chin. But his eyes are aware of everything going on around him. He may not have any control left over his body, but his mind is still there. Trapped. That much I know beyond a doubt.
The Guard continues, “To be Released with him is his father, Jakob Sharma, and his mother, Sari Sharma. When they are given to the Further, no citizen is to speak their names. As a show of mercy, the Corporation is allowing family members to say a brief goodbye.”
Small stirrings from different parts of the crowd clamor against the silence as grandparents and other family members come forward. I watch them hug and cry and say their goodbyes. With every tear, another part of my heart is ripped away. I sink deeper into the crowd, trying to disappear.
“What of Kavin's Pair?” Sergeant Nan calls out.
I feel my cheeks flush. I can't go up there. I can't see Kavin like this any more than I already have.
The soldier looks at his databoard. “Karis Singh.”
A murmur ripples through the crowd as people look around. “You have to go up there,” someone next to me says. I vaguely recognize them as someone from the factory. “They’ll make us all stay until you do.” They push me forward towards the aisle.
As if to confirm what the citizen’s said, Sergeant Nan speaks with a hard edge, “We’ll be staying here until Karis Singh decides to come forward.”
“I'm here,” I say, my voice cracking. I snake past bodies until I make it to the parted aisle. I look Jakob and Sari in the eyes as I walk forward, stopping only when I’m a few feet away. I don’t know what else to say other than, “I'm sorry.” My voice catches in my throat.
Jakob takes my hands. “It's not death,” he says with conviction, “it's freedom.”
I move to Sari and give her a hug. She holds onto me as if I can save her, twisting her fingers into the back of my hair. “I would have liked to have you as a daughter,” she says.
I can't help it. I start to cry. “What about Sai?” I say into her shoulder.
Her fingers stiffen. “Shhh.”
Then it hits me. The scene from the Jatis comes back full force. Sari gave something to Eta.
“I'll help keep her safe,” I promise as I pull away. She kisses me quickly on each cheek before passing me to Kavin. “He’s still in there,” she says, falling back into her husband’s waiting arms.
I take a deep breath to collect myself, eyes cast to the ground, before I can look my Pair in the face. I feel everyone staring at me, scrutinizing my actions. Finally, I look at him, focusing so intently on the dark brown of his eyes that I don't notice anything else. It’s still the Kavin I’m Paired with on the inside.
“I see you,” I say in a whisper, fighting more tears. “I know you aren't gone.”
He moans a response, trying to form words. I see frustration in his eyes at the inability to speak. His hand fumbles to my face.
I twist his fingers with mine. “There's something better out there, I know there is. You’d better not give up, because I'm not giving up on you. We'll see each other again, and we’ll be Paired—the way Ami says it used to be.”
He tries to speak, but when it doesn’t come out, his eyes get moist with frustration. I put my other hand over his to try to calm him. He pulls his hands free and with jerky, sloppy movements, guides his hand to his eye, then his chest, and ends by pointing at me, placing an uncoordinated hand over my heart.
My throat goes tight, but I manage a smile. For him. I mime the words back. I love you.
“All right, that's enough.” Sergeant Nan pulls us apart.
Another Guard comes forward with a bulky scanner in his hands and passes it over each of their Marks. In a sizzle of acrid smoke, a laser burns at their skin, erasing their Marks and with it, their essence of their existence.
The Guard stops and stares at the reader on the back of the scanner, wrinkling his brow. “Where’s the fourth?” he snaps.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Jakob says.
“The fourth member of your family,” the Guard says, irritated. I can tell he’d rather be back in Dahn than doing a Release.
Sergeant Nan comes to stand by the first Guard. “What’s the problem?” he asks.
The soldier gives a quick salute before he speaks. “The Corporation’s records show there’s a fourth member due to be deactivated, a Sai Sharma. Age, eight months.”
The sergeant punches something into his databoard before looking up at Jakob. “What do you have to say about this?”
Jakob puts a hand around his wife’s quivering shoulders and stands up straighter. “The Corporation’s records are wrong.”
“You know the impossibility of that.”
Sari finally speaks. “She passed away in the spring. She wasn’t strong enough.”
The sergeant pauses, not fully believing their story but plainly not wanting to invest the required energy needed to prove them wrong. The muscle in his jaw flexes. “The rules strictly state you must make the Corporation aware of any changes within your family unit.”
“It hardly matters now, does it?” Jakob says.
Sergeant Nan’s fingers flutter at the butt of his gun, but he draws it back. Instead, he goes to the Gate, swipes an access card, and punches in a key code. The iron bars hum before powering down. The low, blue light fades until it’s gone. The Gate has to be turned off in order for the Sharma’s to pass safely through and into the Further. A quick death for them wouldn’t equal justice.
Nan hands Jakob a small skin of water. For all of them. Not out of mercy but in order to prolong their suffering. The Corporation’s undying reminder of who’s in control, even of our deaths.
“Jakob, Sari, Kavin—you are officially Released,” the soldier says. The Guards line up in silence, blocking the Sharmas path back into the city. With nowhere else to go, they step through the Gate.
As soon as they’ve crossed over, Sergeant Nan swipes his card again and punches a series of buttons. The Gate buzzes back to life. Static crackles through the air as bolts shoot from one side of the metal frame to the other. The sound is loud and disturbing. Kavin moans in panic, grunting and reaching for me. Jakob has to drag him back.
I put my hands over my mouth to muffle a cry. This is too much. I turn around and run down the aisle away from the Sharmas. Kavin's moans follow me the entire way, sounding too much like my name for me ever to be the same again.
As I run, something new absorbs me. Hatred, strong and hot, starts in my chest, fueling me, and I welcome it. The Corporation is responsible for Kavin. For Ajna. For Neech not having the medicine it needs to fight sickness and death. For every bad thing we’ve ever had to suffer.
That’s when I decide they’ll pay. For everything.
Eight
I head straight to Ajna’s side when I get home after work. I can only focus on one thing at a time, if I don’t, I might lose my mind. So, I squeeze Kavin from my mind and focus only on my brother. Eta snores softly in a nearby chair. I don't see Papa.
Ajna’s chest barely moves with his shallow breaths, and the light from the fire casts sharp shadows on his already sallow face. He doe
sn't wake as I crouch next to him. Even though he’s near the fire, his body is cold and clammy to the touch. I reach over and sweep a section of loose hair out of his eyes.
“Ajna,” I whisper. “Ajna, please wake up.” I know he won't, but I say it anyway.
At some point, Papa’s pulled out a bedroll for my brother. It’s just wide enough for two people, so I lift the thin blanket covering his frail and dying body and slip myself next to him as quietly as possible. I nestle my head on my arm and pull him close to me, wrapping my arm around his chest and arms like a small doll. “I can’t lose you, too.” I close my eyes and don't wake until a hushed conversation probes around inside my head.
I lay as still as I can, keeping my eyes closed. Papa and Eta are having a heated discussion.
“So?” Papa asks. “How'd it go today?”
“Not good,” Eta says.
“You're a healer; they have to grant your Petition.”
“Jeret, they're the Corporation. They don't have to do anything they don't want to.”
“Did you tell them what it was for?” His whispers are getting more desperate. My heart starts to hurt.
“Of course. I told them several patients of mine would die if I didn’t get it.”
“And they still didn't give you the medicine?” Papa may be shocked with the news, but I’m not surprised.
“They said they’d run some numbers and see if they can grant the Petition. But with the shortage of Morrow, to give it away when I’m not even positive it would work…they won’t want to risk it.”
“You mean they don’t want to waste it on a little boy from the Outer City.” I hear him sigh. “Can you heal Ajna without it?”
“Only make him as comfortable as possible. Without the medicine, Ajna will die. It’s only a matter of when.”
A sourness creeps up the back of my throat and my heart drops. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter and Papa sucks in a breath. It feels like the silence stretches on forever before he speaks again.
“How long have the others lasted?”