CHAPTER NINE #2
The hologram stood with her arms folded behind her back as the sound of running water filled my living quarters. Did all Elites have personal HIs and need to deal with them every day?
I padded across my living quarters and pulled on my daily gray attire.
A ding filled the dark room, indicating my meal was ready.
I made my way over to the first of three black boxes built into the wall of my living quarters, one each for food delivery, trash, and laundry.
They functioned like an elevator, bringing food up to me and dropping away my garbage, too small for me to fit in but big enough to take away my soiled sheets and trays of food.
I glanced over my shoulder to find the HI staring at me.
The usual plastic containers sat waiting inside the food delivery box, but my everyday indistinguishable mush had been replaced by a vibrant pink nutrient shake and a food that smelled sweet.
The only familiar thing was the container of supplements, but even they looked different.
Lastly, next to the containers was a steaming cup of hot tea.
“What is this?” I asked, withdrawing the tray.
“Your morning meal,” my HI answered. I gripped the tray tightly as I turned toward her.
“You will find all of your approved supplements.” The hologram began describing my food, but I became lost in all the words I didn’t know, such as grains, dragon fruit, banana, and chia seeds.
Whatever those were. “Your tea is a green tea.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“There is no need to thank me, Emeline. I have been programmed to serve you. It has been noted that you enjoy chocolate. Please enjoy your nutrients.” The hologram stood there with her hands crossed behind her back once again.
My stomach gave an annoyed grumble. I slowly took a sip of tea, and she watched me, unmoving. I waved my hand before her, and I swore she nodded at me.
I turned away, unnerved, glancing around my room, bare except for a bed, the counter with a sink, a door to my small bathroom, and a wardrobe, which I had left open, the shimmering dresses the only color in the room.
I stood at the counter with a sink, next to the three black boxes. There were no comforts to be found.
I wished I had a table and chair. Usually, the mush wasn’t enjoyable enough to warrant a seated meal, but this—it deserved a table, real plates, and cutlery, like in the clouds. I wanted a delicate teacup and pot. I wished . . .
I wished I wasn’t in gray.
It was one thing to be afflicted by the unknown.
Daydreams and fantasy only held so much power.
Now, knowing, even just a glimpse of the luxuries in the sky—it was addictive.
That was the issue. I had wants. Wants and desires I had buried deep within.
Things I had been suffocating from my earliest memories.
I knew these wants were just the beginning. I was terrified. Terrified that if I continued to want—if I released what I had repressed—I would be the one who suffocated under the deluge of unmet desires.
What about the injustice of it—that those in the sky had access to such things while the rest of us didn’t? Why were they permitted luxuries while the rest of us were denied basic human needs? Did they withhold it until we became desperate and compliant?
I shook away the thoughts vigorously. I wore gray. I was a Defect, contract or not. Today my food looked appetizing. I should be thankful.
Hovering over the counter, I began to eat, not bothering to swallow my moan. I had never had a breakfast like this. It was a symphony of flavors and textures. I almost missed when the hologram began.
“In Elite society, it is impolite to make noises while eating. Please watch this video on etiquette while you eat,” the HI said before disappearing. A video projected onto my white walls.
As the sun rose, the greenish hue giving way to pastels, I listened to the rules of basic etiquette, from who sits first to correct seating arrangements, to which utensil to use, to curtsies and bows, and so on.
I learned I should have been curtsying to Collin this entire time.
I might have worried about my lack of etiquette, but the lesson kept putting my teeth on edge.
Your actions preserve the Elite way of life.
To be the example that all Defects can admire from afar.
Elite manners are the great distinguishing factor between a civilized mind and a defective one.
Anger welled deep within me at the demeaning reminder that the Illum and the Elite saw us as less than. I tried not to let the video ruin the taste of my meal.
After I finished, the HI returned. “I hope your morning meal was satisfactory. For your Courting Phase: You have completed your initial meeting and first tea with your Elite Mate. Your Mate has submitted his observations regarding your ability to maintain composure among the Elite and your desirability for procreation. You are to await your Mate’s next needs. ”
My stomach bottomed out. Collin had claimed he hadn’t been testing me, yet he had been observing me. My skin crawled at the thought. Why? Why did the Illum make everything a game?
“Do you have any questions regarding your first lesson?”
“No, it was insightful,” I mumbled, pushing aside the countless things I wanted to ask.
“I am happy to hear that. I will see you tomorrow. Fertile blessings, Emeline.” She disappeared.
I placed my tray in the removal box before grabbing my Comm Device, a gray wool jacket and gray bag, and leaving my living quarters. Any peace I had ever found there had been eradicated in one morning.
The elevator was full when it reached the ground level.
In the Pods queue, I looked for Lo’s sunshine hair, but she wasn’t there.
She had probably left early to avoid the looks and whispers that accompanied the stops at the medical building where our yearly was performed.
It might be the only time the women around you showed any sign that they understood—that they knew what they took from you in those sterile rooms.
The morning sun ricocheted off the departing Pods as droves of gray clambered on. I stared at the tall stone wall across the street hiding what lay within. Unease stole the sun’s warmth at the large dented steel doors that never opened. In ten years I had never seen anyone go in or come out.
The Sanctuary—a place Minor Defect women and their offspring ended up if they could not maintain their composure or whatever the hologram had claimed Collin was assessing.
Placed directly across the street from us, like the two Academy buildings: one an ever-present reminder of what was out of your reach, the other a looming threat of what was waiting should you fail.
It was enough to leave us desperate and terrified.
A woman bumped into me, shuffling me along. I tore my eyes away as I scanned, scrambling to find a seat.
“Look,” one of the other Defects uttered. “She’s glowing.”
A golden glow lit up the Pod. I hastily tugged on my gray sleeve. Several Defects shot wary glances my way. I stared out the window, but even the city’s beauty didn’t mute their whispers about why it was gold and what that meant.
Their fervent looks followed me off the Pod. I didn’t stop for the sun’s rays as I hurried across the pavement that led to the Capitol’s entrance, my fingers curled tightly around the sleeve of my jacket, keeping it in place.
The doors opened as a low whistle ripped through the endless gray.
I stopped at the base of the building, its unfathomable height looming over me.
The whistle pierced the air again, and I turned to find a group of women in gray huddled close to a group of gray-clad men—some of the fraction of men who didn’t qualify for work in the clouds, running maintenance on the ground instead.
One of the men stared at me, his face hateful as he whistled loudly, sending others in gray scuttling off.
The whistling came to an end, and in its silence my mind ran rampant.
The important part, the dangerous part, is that people are rising up.
I ducked my head, running toward the safety of my office. How many people were actually upset with the Illum?
I shouldn’t have been surprised to see Hal lounging in my chair. Only yesterday he had asked to come back, and I had agreed. With everything that had happened, it felt like forever ago.
“Morning, Moonlight,” he said, propping his legs on my desk.
“What did you say?” I scanned my wrist and the screens came to life. I leaned against the wall, willing my heart to slow.
He laced his hands behind his head. “I called you Moonlight.”
“Can I ask why?”
“Well, since I met you, I find myself watching the moon while I work.” Hal shot me one of his smiles that made his dimple appear.
“What does watching the moon have to do with me?”
“The moon rules our time, does it not?”
“It does.”
Hal raked a hand through his hair. “Since meeting you, you seem to rule mine.”
“Why?” I asked, my cheeks heating.
He chuckled. “You can’t just take the nickname? I just told you I think about you when you’re not around, and you need an explanation?”
I opened my mouth to reply when Hal grabbed something off my desk, something dusted in gold, and popped it into his mouth.
He hummed appreciatively, his starburst eyes alight. “These are delicious.”
I leaned over to see an entire box of gold-dusted chocolates. The same exact ones from last night. Another gift from Collin. Three were missing, as were my flowers. I shot a glare at Hal. “Where are my flowers?”
“Darnedest thing, they died. So I threw them out,” Hal said, eating another chocolate.
“Give me that.” I lunged for the chocolate as he went for a fifth, but he caught my wrist. “You are insufferable. Do you know that?”