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“What will happen to me?” I asked, not expecting an answer. What I knew? The Marked left and were never seen again. Just like the dead. Coincidence? I thought not.
I’d once heard someone mention that the Marked were chosen to be promoted to a new color. Could it be true? Promotion or punishment? I had no one to ask. I’d only ever kind of known one Marked before. Z1431, who’d lived across the hall from me, had worked on my last shift at the factory, where we oversaw the mushrooms getting made into food. Mostly ensuring no rats got sucked into the grinder. It ruined batches.
Her last morning, Z1431 had emerged from her room, eyes wide with excitement. “I was marked.” Her excitement had been palpable. To her, she’d achieved a great honor. Back then, I didn’t speak much, and Z1431 hadn’t questioned. She’d simply left, and eventually, someone new had moved in across the hall.
As for Z1431? I’d never seen her again. Would I run into her at the Consulate?
A chime went off, and my door slid open. Time to leave for the morning meal.
Wait, was I allowed to eat before going? If I didn’t, who knew how long before I’d receive nourishment? This could even be my final repast.
The Consulate could wait a moment while I filled my hollow belly. Despite the rebellious thought, I didn’t get jolted, because my thoughts were mine alone. I just had to be careful not to speak them aloud.
I exited into the hall to see the other Grays also ready for the day, all present but for one gaping spot farther up the hall. Not a real surprise. L1209 had been following the rules less and less of late. Screaming during lights out. Refusing to get on the transport. It wouldn’t be long before the Enforcers in their red armor came for her. Like the Marked, those who left in custody also didn’t return.
Shuffling in time, we headed down the hall, aiming for the stairwell. I knew without looking that behind us, the door at the far end of the corridor, disgorged the workers coming off shift. Habitats and tasks were carefully managed to ensure resting spaces could be shared by two or more people. I’d been taught it was efficient for housing and resources.
During all my time in habitat Sub13, I’d never met the other people who slept in my bed, although I did once find a stray blond hair the cleaning robots had missed. Definitely not mine, given the dark brown adorning my head.
We shuffled down the hall, wearing the same gray, two-piece outfits. We varied only in personal appearance, including face shape and placement of features. Our skin tones ranged from pale to dark, the same with hair. Those who kept their hair long wore iteither pulled back from their face in a thick bunch or coiled on their head. Given my new mark, I’d chosen the former today rather than my usual latter. As if that would hide it. I felt the grooves of the mark burning, surely flashing its existence to everyone.
No one looked at me any differently, but I eyed the other Gray citizens suspiciously, wondering if any of them had woken up changed. Given their dull expressions, the same one I used to wear, I doubted they were aware of much.
We filed down the stairs, heading for the meal hall recently emptied of the workers just going to bed. We filed in and stood in a shuffling line to receive our first meal of the day. The stack of recycled bowls sat beside a slot in the wall. I placed the basin under the spout, hit the button, and with a gurgle, my meal gushed out. With bowl in hand, I then moved to my assigned seat. The thin gruel slopped along the edges as I bobbled while placing it on the table.
I noticed the spot across from me gaped empty.
“Where is C572?” I asked the woman sitting to my left.
As per previous times, she didn’t speak. She shrugged and kept eating. The older woman to my right, M3223, answered. “The Reds came and took her.”
That piqued my interest. Must have been bad to have the Enforcers come in.
“Why?”
The woman snorted. “There are only two reasons for the Reds to show up.”
Indeed. A crime merited immediate action. Violence to another citizen was the least tolerated, but a plethora of smaller crimes, such as socializing outside the designated meal times, could also draw the wrong kind of attention. The rules stated that, after we’d eaten, we were to return to our cubicles for a proper amount of sleep. Talking while at work resulted in being assigned solitary jobs. I didn’t like those. I spent those shifts in a state of anxiety, hating the isolation.
“I hear she got caught in someone’s room after lights out.” The gossip came from across the table as H312 sat down and added to the conversation. “She should have obeyed,” the smugly spoken conclusion.
Obeying made me think of my choice to fill my belly instead of making my way to the Consulate, which I could only assume would require a transport. Given the conveyance would run only when the current shift of Grays boarded, I’d be wasting my time to go to the platform too early.
I ate, lifting the bowl to my lips and siphoning the fluid. Bitter and thick. It didn’t taste good, but it filled the belly, nourished my body.
The chime went off. The Grays rose in a clatter of noise. Bowls in hand, we marched to the recycling bin to dump them, then headed out of our habitat to the cave courtyard. The transport filled the tunnel, waiting to load passengers.
The Grays marched onto it without any chatter. A pair of Red Enforcers and a Blue supervisor watched over us at the far end of the platform, making sure we behaved.
As others more eager than me streamed past, I hung back and didn’t release my breath until the full transport closed its doors. Those of us left behind would have to wait for the next transport. I’d given myself a little extra time.
My fingers clasped and unclasped as the transport moved off, creating a slight breeze that settled quickly once the car disappeared. It wouldn’t be long before the next one arrived.
I took a deep, if shaky, breath. The air on the platform outside the habitat had an interesting smell to it. Different from the antiseptic scent permeating the living quarters that had been dug into the rock. A glance overhead showed the glow of the orbs hanging from more stone. At times, knowing that rock surrounded us, I grew anxious. Felt trapped.
An odd feeling to have, given I’d lived in the Caves for as long as I could remember. First, we occupied the juvenile habitat, where older Grays taught us speech and purpose, along with the laws. Then we moved to a junior habitat, where we were paired with an older Gray, who then apprenticed us through all the jobs expected. More than once, if the learning Gray needed extra time.
I’d proved to be a poor learner, mostly because I hadn’t wanted to leave Q3111, a woman who’d shown me kindness and been the first to bring me out of the apathy I’d felt my whole life when I’d wondered what the point of it all was.
