Page 5 of Conform
Lo looked at the others. “You don’t want to be late, though. It might count against you.”
The line before us dwindled. A crammed Pod zoomed away.
“Your future depends on your ability to comply with your Mate’s desires,” Lo whispered. Goosebumps erupted down my arms at her repetition of the words the Academy had uttered throughout our education.
What if . . . what if I couldn’t?
There were gowns, balls, and luxury up there, but they hid more than beauty beyond the clouds. It was dangerous in the clouds for people like me. I would be watched and judged. I had to comply with my Mate’s wishes and the Illum. Fail to do so and I would be thrown in blue—or eliminated entirely.
Lo pressed into my back, ushering me toward the open doors of the Pod. It was almost full. I stuck out a shaking arm, scanning my chip.
A loud horn blared through the Pod, followed by an automated female voice.
“ALL DEFECTS, PLEASE EXIT THE TRANSPORTATION POD IMMEDIATELY.”
Groans accompanied the disgruntled women exiting the Pod, pushing past me. Seething words slipped from their mouths as angry eyes ran up and down the length of me. “She’ll be cast down soon enough,” one muttered. “Look at her eyes.”
My heart slammed in my throat. I stepped onto the Pod, the divide taking hold. A location I had never seen appeared on the Pod transport screen, the lights softening.
“F13463233 APPROVED FOR AUTHORIZED TRANSPORT.”
Approved. Approved. Approved. Approved. Approved. Approved. Approved. Approved. Approved. Approved.The word merged with my raging heart.
I was approved, not accepted. My gaze snagged on the firm line of Lo’s mouth as she remained with the others and the doors closed. The Pod shot up into the sky, leaving behind everything I knew.
The Pod ascended, and my stomach dipped. The surface sprawled in all directions. From this vantage point, I could see the five sectors: the Wastelands, a flat stretch of land devoid of anything but rows of squat brick housing, home to female Minors; the Banks, buildings identical to ours that ran along the opposite side of the river, home to the male Minors who served the Illum on the surface; High Town, below me, the ground floor of all their towering skyscrapers; the split black and white pyramid of the Academy to the south; the Sanctuary, where pregnant women outside of Cohabitation Agreements were sent, cloistered behind a large stone wall on the eastern side of the city; and farthest away, to the west, across the river where it splits, the archaic, dilapidated buildings of Low Town. Home of the Majors.
As the clouds engulfed the Pod, my reflection stared back at me, blurring out everything else. The thing no one could bear to look at, myself included. A mark against the Elite’s beauty and perfection—my defect.
I barely registered the slightly angular face, creamy pale skin, high cheekbones, straight nose, and full mouth, all surrounded by a mess of long, curly brown hair. A rather alluring face, beautiful even, if I could look past my flaw. I had my birth father’s symmetry and my birth mother’s delicate grace, but it was wasted.
My left eye was crystal blue as if made of ice chips, and my right eye a deep, rich brown, almost depthless.
That girl is a disgrace to our genes. Our legacy.
The Pod broke through the clouds, leaving my reflection below and replacing it with the world of the Elite.
CHAPTER TWO
COUNTLESS PODS WHIZZED FREELY IN ALL DIRECTIONS,weaving between the towering glass structures at a dizzying pace. I stared out the windows, breathless, my fear loosening its hold on me. The tall buildings glinted in the last rays of the sun, revealing the secrets we couldn’t see from below. Large metal panels were fastened along many of the buildings, pointed toward the sun.
Mesmerized, I clutched the seat as the Pod flew between glass skyscrapers, almost brushing against them, before coming to a halt against the side of a building in a gap in the clouds.
The doors opened, and a middle-aged man dressed in a dark gray suit stood stiffly just outside. He was a Minor Defect, like me—we all wore gray. The shade varied based on the role assigned after graduating the Academy. Those of us waiting for Procreation Agreements wore a dingy gray that almost looked dirty. Men were separated in the Academy after their eighth year and trained to serve the Elite in the clouds, signified by donning a darker hue. The men who didn’t qualify for the clouds ran maintenance on the surface, their gray akin to ours.
“Good evening, ma’am,” he said with a bow. “If you would please exit the Pod, I will scan your MIND and escort you.”
I stepped forward, my eyes glued to where the Pod touched the entrance. Would my MIND alert them of my defect, making it clear there was some mistake? Would the Pod drop out from under my feet, sending me free-falling to the ground below? To my birthright?
“Promptness and obedience are celebrated in the clouds,” the man stated.
Swallowing my fear, I stepped past the glass doors, my gray shoes meeting the intricate marble tile. A delicate glass light fixture cast a warm glow around the space.
The man led me to a rivet stand decorated with an arrangement of stunning white flowers. “Your arm, please,” he prompted, holding out a small scanner. “Ms. Emeline, welcome.”
I looked up at him, shocked. My birth name had never appeared upon scanning. MINDs always identified us by a set of numbers. Among fellow Defects names were used. Everywhere else in the city it had always been a nameless set of numbers. His eyes widened, and he looked pointedly over my shoulder, unable to meet my mismatched gaze.
“Is something amiss, Ms. Emeline?” he inquired, stepping around the stand.
