Page 4 of Conform
The usual beep from my scanner by the door finally signaled, and I finished typing notes in my report before the screens went black. I gathered my things; then another jarring beep sounded as I scanned my wrist and ran from the ghosts of the paintings I had destroyed.
On my ascent to the surface, other women in gray filed in from the other floors of the Archives. No hellos were shared among us. The elevator doors opened to the main lobby, light and the sounds of life spilling in. I blew out a breath I hadn’t realized I had been holding as I approached the large glass doors, where I spotted Lo waiting for me. The ornate chandeliers overhead cast tiny rainbows throughout the marble hall from the sun’s dying rays. Every surface sparkled and shined.
“Hey, how was work?” I asked.
“Fine, sent lots of books to their doom,” Lo told me. “Not a single one was saved today.”
We exited the building, and I paused in a patch of sunlight, tilting my face up and closing my eyes. “Does it ever bother you that you’re destroying things that might be important?”
“Nope,” Lo said. “If it was important the Illum would keep it.”
I cracked an eye open, peering at Lo on her Comm Device and her absolute trust in the Illum. Sometimes, I wondered how daily hellos on our synced commutes had turned into this sort-of friendship. Lo didn’t share any of my concerns. She had accepted the Illum’s world and her role. Her main goal of achieving a life in the clouds kept her content.
More so, I wondered how I had found myself bending their rules yet again. I had sworn after my only other friendship was taken from me that I would never do this again. Friendships weren’t permitted among those in gray. Most women in gray only saw competition thanks to the Academy. The same lesson burned into us, over and over.
Now that we have removed the males, look around. The women around you are vying for your position in the clouds. Only a select few, the very best, shall be selected. If the woman next to you trounces you, she will be a contributing factor in the color you wear. Follow the Illum’s protocol, abide by the rules of the Minor Defect population, and constantly seek self-improvement, and you will rise, fulfilling your use for the Greater Good.
Things had permanently shifted after that lesson. Derision and contention had taken root and only deepened from there.
“How was your art?” she asked. “Have you sunned enough? Can we go?”
“I barely finished my list,” I said, breathing in the warmth, hoarding it until I saw the sun again, then followed Lo toward the line for the Pods.
“Have you ever thought about not looking at the pictures and focusing on the screen? You could just push the buttons. It’d be more productive.”
As we joined the sea of gray, I bit my tongue from saying how the beauty was impossible to ignore. “I don’t think I could do that.”
“It’d make the time go quicker,” Lo told me, unbraiding her long plait until a sheet of golden hair tumbled free. She trailed her hands through the waves. “Plus, none of that matters now. You’re approved.”
My stomach swooped as her words stole the warmth I had relished moments ago. I had told her this morning that I’d been approved, and she had squealed with delight before bombarding me with questions I didn’t have answers to.
“Have you heard anything more yet?” Lo asked.
“No.”
“What are they going to do about your—” Lo hesitated, and my gaze flew to her. “Those.”
“Probably what everyone else does,” I muttered. “Stare.” The unspoken fear that I would be rejected hung heavy between us, and I changed topics. “Has anyone ever come to your office below?”
“No, why?” Her brows pinched.
Could I tell her about Hal? A ding sounded from the depths of my bag. I fished out my Comm Device as Lo pushed closer to me.
“Is it from them?” she hissed. We shuttled forward in the line. “What’s it say?”
I reread the message several times, the Illum’s insignia at the top: A golden circle with one of their impossibly tall buildings erupting from the clouds. The sharp tip was a perch for a gleaming sun, casting its illuminating light upon us all.
F13463233—It has come to our attention that you have been approved for procreation. Congratulations. The initial meeting with M17292834 has been set for 8:00 this evening following your preparation appointment at 6:00. All travel information has been loaded to your MIND chip. If you are deemed acceptable, you will receive the Procreation Contract, which is to be completed and signed prior to your following meeting. Fertile Blessings.
I wrapped a hand around my left wrist, where the miraculous technology from the Illum lay hidden. Each offspring had a MIND—Monitoring Intelligence Nanochip Device—inserted into the left wrist at birth, providing the Illum’s systems with constant updates on our health, down to our genetic makeup. I had to scan the chip everywhere: for the hovering transportation Pods, for meals, for work, even for our living quarters. The Illum gathered vital information from each scan, evaluating our ability to be of use to the Greater Good.
I stared at the last words of the message.Fertile Blessings. From whatever information they gathered from the device in my wrist, I was finally fertile enough. I was useful.Approved. My stomach twisted painfully as I glanced at the time on my Comm Device. I had ten minutes. Ten years of waiting diminished to ten minutes. I would need to take the Pod straight to the clouds. My heartbeat became a death march.
“What’s it say?” Lo urged, leaning over my shoulder. I turned the screen toward her so she could read for herself. Tilting my head back, I took in the skyscrapers that soared into the sky until they disappeared into the clouds. The Elite were up there, my potential Mate among them. Would he hold my defective gaze as the man in blue had? Would he be disgusted? Would he shout the words my birth father had tossed my way?
“Tonight?” she exclaimed. “That’s so quick, Emeline. It’s happening.”
“Yeah, right in the middle of the transition,” I said, looking at the fellow Defects around us. “They’re all going to see. Maybe I should wait until it thins out.” The Pod, a sleek oblong hovering transportation vehicle, would make a loud announcement the moment I scanned, alerting everyone in gray.
