Outcast: A Corporation Novel (The Corporation) Read Online Free PDF Page B

the workers. Dhevan's always the first one there, toiling a good hour before the others even begin thinking about starting their day. I pass the main Gate into the fields and head, instead, for a hole in the fence that Dhevan had shown me not long after I first got here. It's conveniently out of the view of any cameras and the farmers haven't fixed it yet, nor have they reported it to the Corporation. I got the impression it was used quite a bit, but no explanation was given to me as to why.
    I peel back the chain link metal fencing from the tear and squeeze my body through, careful to keep my clothes away from the sharp and rough edges. Once on the other side, I take the time to put the fencing back, careful to blend the edges together again, like I was never there.
    I trudge through the weeds and hardening ground at the edges of the pastures and fields. The cold seems to have come on quicker this year than in the past. The plants are turning brown and drying out. The earth is hard and uneven in the mornings and the evenings are getting darker, sooner. I slow my pace when I get to the narrow and uneven dirt paths between the fenced pastures. I've warmed up enough to take my hands from my pockets and undo the top few buttons of my duster.
    The animals are lethargic and sleepy. They graze with lazy mouths in the early morning, eating the dewy grass. I listen to their puffs of breath and snorts as they crush down the crisp and sparse vegetation beneath their hooves. The scene is familiar and comforting. When I was young, I used to go to my father's horses early in the morning, soaking up the same sounds and smells. It was the only place where I could just be me. Where I could be alone and pretend that I was anywhere but where I was.
    “You're up early.”
    I start a little at Dhevan's voice. He's in the pasture to my right, putting a ratty, faded and frayed halter onto a heifer’s head. It was blue once. Her sides are swollen to the point that I'm pretty sure she's going to explode.
    “Couldn't sleep,” I say. “Thought I'd come and help you with the calving.”
    He snaps the lead to a metal ring in the halter beneath the cow’s chin. “Huh.” Dhevan tugs on the rope and leads the animal towards the gate at the opposite end of the small field. I follow him along the fence line. “I thought you were Eta's little helper,” he says.
    “ Apprentice ,” I say. Dhevan and I go through this same song and dance every time we talk. It would almost be endearing if it weren’t getting old. Part of me wants to say, I get it. You're not my biggest fan. Get over it. But, for Karis' sake, I bite my tongue. “She doesn't need me this morning and I knew you'd be here alone and could probably use some extra help.” I open the gate for him and wait as the two figures saunter through. The cow sways like she's got nothing on her agenda for the day; like this is just a stroll through the Inner City fields.
    Dhevan doesn't wait for me to close the gate but keeps walking towards the lean-to they call a barn. “Have you ever done this before?” he throws over his shoulder.
    What a completely dumb and typical Dhevan question. He likes to ask me things he already knows the answers to. Especially when his question points out that I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing.
    “Recently? No. So I'm probably a little rusty.”
    He doesn't laugh. Another typical Dhevan response. I used to think he was a funny guy. He used to laugh and be nice and I thought this would be an easy adaptation for me. But it was almost like, once he knew I wasn't going anywhere, he decided he didn't like me after all. Karis doesn't take it seriously, she says he's just warming up to me. If that's the case, he must have the temperature of a never melting ice cube. I blow into my hands to warm them.
    “Look, I came here to help,” I say, trying to be nice. We're under the shelter of the lean-to now. There's trampled straw covering the ground with cakes of clumped