The Marked

By Eve Langlais

In a futuristic society, fate is decided by genetics, and love is only for the elite. 

 

The mark appeared while I slept and can't be ignored. I must present myself to the Consulate and from there…

I don't know what happens. While I've been taught the mark is an honor, I have no idea what it means. Questioning isn't encouraged.

I must obey.

My change in status exposes me to a violent side to society that I never suspected. Brings me to a strange and wondrous place known as the surface, where I am immersed in a different way of living.

I discover pleasure. Am involved in intrigue. Learn about lies and different perspectives of the truth.

I must also make a choice between a man who is part of the caste system and the one who would destroy it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Eve Langlais
• Release date: May 31, 2022
• ISBN: 9781773842752

Eve Langlais

New York Times and USA Today bestseller, Eve Langlais, is a Canadian romance author who is known for stories that combine quirky storylines, humor and passion.

Book preview

1

Ding.

The soft chime woke me. I opened my eyes to stare at the ceiling. Light gray with embedded strips that gradually increased in brightness the longer I lay abed. Laziness, a crime above all others, couldn’t be allowed to take root.

I swung my legs over the edge of the thin foam mattress and sighed for no reason other than another day had begun. Another day of dull work, hopefully not somewhere smelly and gross. Not that I had a choice, or would know what my job would entail until I received my assignment along with everyone else. Because we all did our part. Every single citizen of the Caves took turns doing the easy jobs and the vile ones. Everyone was treated equally. Or at least equally among those wearing the gray. Our society existed as divided colored castes, with Grays ranking lowest.

Some days, I wondered what it would be like to be any other color. Did they feel differently than I did? Did they also wish they could just lie in their bed and not get up? Thrilling blasphemy to even think about it.

The lights overhead brightened to the point I squinted. My final warning I’d dallied too long. I stood, bare feet pressing against a floor neither hot nor cold. Everything always remained at the same temperature inside the habitat. Nothing ever really changed. It didn’t used to bother me. Now…now I dreaded waking.

With me out of bed, the automated mechanism flipped the mattress and its platform into the wall. In almost that same second, the cleansing unit lowered over me, a tube of seamless, solid gray that I closed my eyes to ignore.

The hated sensation of feeling trapped assailed me, as it did every morning of late. I couldn’t have said why my feelings had changed. The day always started with a cleaning. Actually, first a squat to expel bodily waste, which siphoned down a drain, thankfully without aid this morning. Extraction could be uncomfortable. However, given the locations of some of our tasks lacked proper fecal-disposal facilities, it had to be taken care of.

Body emptied, I regained my full height and kept my eyes shut as the expected tingles began running up and down my body, lasers removing dead-skin particles and any dirt. Not that there should be any, given I’d needed cleaning before my dinner the day before, as my shift in the mushroom gardens had left me grubby. A clumsy Gray, whose name I didn’t know, had fallen onto a large specimen, causing it to explode with spores. Not pleasant smelling, but at least I’d not been one of those who’d reacted horribly with giant, itchy red hives.

The invisible rays did their thing, and once the tingling ceased, I opened my eyes. The tube receded into the ceiling. At times, I wondered what would happen if the mechanism failed. The thought of being trapped caused a strange feeling inside me that caused my palms to sweat and heartbeat to accelerate.

A shelf protruded from the wall with my outfit—gray pants and shirt. The same as every other day. The only time I didn’t wear it was when I slept. At night, we stripped and put our clothing in the recycling chute. I would have preferred to remain dressed, as I felt exposed when nude in bed. Again, a recent change. I used to not care.

As I pulled on the loose tunic and pants, an unexpected voice startled me, emerging from the embedded speaker in the ceiling of the room.

Congratulations, Citizen J891. You have been marked.

What? I blinked a few times as I mulled over the word marked. How? When?

My hand reached over my shoulder, the tips of my fingers running over the back of my neck. Ridged flesh met the pads.

I don’t understand, I muttered aloud.

You have been marked, the voice repeated.

Obviously, I muttered, ignoring the jolt through the floor at my sarcasm. It happened more and more often of late. No matter how many times the monitoring system reprimanded me, I couldn’t seem to help myself. What does it mean?

Proceed to the Consulate. The Consulate was the place where those wearing blue administrated affairs. The Grays, like me, did the work. The Blues managed us as we went about our tasks. The darker the shade of blue, the higher the person ranked. We rarely saw the truly important, given they usually did most of the work from the Consulate, delegating supervision to the light blues.

And I was supposed to go there? Why do I have to go to the Consulate?

Proceed to the Consulate, the voice repeated.

I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t have said why other than it felt good. How do I get there? I’d never been. No Gray ever visited, or if they did, they never returned to speak of it. I should note not many of the Caves’ inhabitants spoke to start with.

Proceed to the Consulate.

That’s a useless answer, was my mutter.

The floor jolted me, harder this time. My teeth clacked. Punishment for being rude.

Frustration roiled inside me. I still had no idea what to do next, but asking apparently wouldn’t get me an answer. I kept my lips shut and chose to grope my nape a little longer, trying to determine the shape of the mark.

Distinct. Deep. How did such a thing happen to my body without me feeling it? Even if I slept, surely it would have woken me?

A better question—why me?

Could it be my recent attitude? That would make sense. I’d been zapped quite a bit lately and given numerous medical exams, as if I ailed.

I felt fine. Just bored. And curious. The word why kept coming up, and I’d yet to hear a because in response.

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 it either 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

Reviews for The Marked

[Ys · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I have l this story in an post-apocalyptic world. try it!

[Uhura Mitchell · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Ohh I love a good dystopian love story. I’d read any additional books in the same world setting. Idk how I feel about the ending, but I enjoyed the ride.