For the ruling class, placement mornings were always a bore -- or rather -- a chore. With all the help nestled in their own beds, surrounded by their own groupings -- how dare they, as if they had lives -- Ones were left to fend for themselves.
"Eggs, dear?" His Mother -- or M -- asked, though more a question to herself than to Cadmus. She had peaked through the bedroom door to find a tossing and turning Cadmus who, despite a truly honest effort, had been unable to return to sleep. "Don't tell Father but the stove requires a quick prayer before it will turn on." How conspiratorial...
In his silence, the woman's nervous pontificating only grew. "Actually, I think Cook left us a Quiche Lorraine. Thank Science! Only, well, the microwave does have far too many buttons for a normal person. Might you agree?"
Cadmus kicked off his duvet, chest still heaving from his... well, whatever you might call a dream turned nightmare. He willed himself to remember every minute of his strange escapade, resenting his Mother for disturbing him. The brooding young man wanted nothing more than to return to his dreamland, to find her and figure out how the hell she was haunting him.
Up until now, Cadmus was certain that she was a figure of his imagination. Sure, dreams might inexplicitly unravel to give the dreamer what they needed most; but, dreams couldn't devolve like that, not unless the dreamer willed them to! No. It was a despicable puzzle that Cadmus was determined to solve.
"They're only buttons, M." Cadmus mumbled grudgingly, holding his mother's attention as his body roused from sleep. He left his room and led them from the private quarters of the penthouse and to the rest of their estate. Down the imperial staircase they went, hands on the balustrade. Taking the flight two steps at a time, Cadmus meandered through their front room, or foyer, which featured an elegant golden fountain atop a luxurious pool in the center. The room was flanked by colorful miniature storefronts which made the extended first floor seem like a tiny city. The picturesque buildings -- a tiki bar, spa, game center, and others -- had colorful displays with manicured set pieces that might be swapped out according to any One’s whims. The only thing missing was the usual hustle of the helpful Threes who worked the booths.
Wandering through another corridor, Cadmus finally passed through the two French doors that led to the kitchen. White marble countertops and copper appliances surrounded the enormous room, sterile without the usual team of cooks.
"I hate it here." Evelyn scowled, "It's just so... provincial." Cadmus smirked. He only ever found M in the kitchen during Festival when she had no other options. Not even take-out.
"It's a kitchen, M, not an impressionist painting."
"And now you've made me think of Renoir. It's too... early for this" Evelyn hovered a lazy palm over the refrigerator door which opened instantly. She reached for a glass container, helpfully labeled Quiche, and placed it on the counter.
"I know M - worst artist to ever live and die."
"The squiggles..."
"Squiggles?"
"The way he paints trees, darling. They're squiggles."
Cadmus nodded as if in full agreement. He stepped in to code instructions into the microwave -- not wanting his mother to burn their breakfast to a crisp -- and helped her find three plates. Come Festival, Evelyn always conveniently forgot where everything belonged -- as if she had blacked out from the trauma related to helping herself. No wonder Ones tipped their Help so generously the day after Placement. Gratitude could make miracles.
Cadmus's Father, Lucius found them, keeping to the shadows as to avoid becoming useful. His head of dark waves was slicked back into a small pompadour. "E, we -- er -- we will eat today, won't we?"
"Working on it!" Evelyn snapped as the first plate of Quiche began to cook. She watched through the glass, exclaiming: "Oh! Well, that's fun. It kind of spins around like on a carousel." Lucius rolled his eyes as Cadmus grinned. Science, Cadmus vowed to never become so clueless in his mid-age.
"L - you remember that Renoir that you bought me for my birthday that year."
"Like I could forget how you hate it."
She smiled, golden eyes twinkling. "It made me nauseous."
"C - never buy a woman Renoir. It makes them nauseous." His father was growling. The morning was too early for his Mother's... bubbling personality.
"Darling, you must only ever buy Casida Jewelry, you hear me?" Cadmus stood up straight at the mention of his intended. He cleared his throat, wishing he might fade into the backsplash of the kitchen.
"Of course." They had been promised to eachother since the womb, both the true-born children of the most elite lineages of Markom -- destined for greatness; and yet, in the haze of this morning's excitement, he had almost forgotten all about his future. It was a blissful moment now lost to time.
"Heavens, C. You must never buy Casida a painting or she might kill you in your sleep." His Father chided, breaking him from his daze. Cadmus couldn't resist smiling. It felt too good.
"Well, you're allowed to buy her paintings just to have. Science, C, you must have good art. Cassat and Boudin are fine. Even early Picasso... just not --"
"Renoir." Lucius and Cadmus muttered in unison. Evelyn began to cry, thick tears flowing down her bronzed skin and dark eyes.
"Why is your Mother crying?
"Your best guess is as good as mine." Cadmus quipped, just in time for the microwave to beep. He ran to get the first plate of Quiche and replaced it with the second. Anything to get away from her horrid emotions.
"My little One is so grown."
"It happens E, no use fighting it."
"Just yesterday you were the One crying in my arms. Now you're off getting placed and married and starting your own grouping."
"Mother, I'm not getting married!" He continued. "Not right away at least." Why did they always have to pressure him like this? He had enough to worry about.
"You and Casida will do great things." His Father said, matter-of-fact.
"I know," He was sick and tired of everyone telling him what might be. Couldn't they just give him enough space - you know - to find out for himself?
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
But things only got weirder.
"L - I want another baby. When Cadmus leaves us we can try again, can't we?" What?
"I'm getting Placed not executed M!" Cadmus yelled while his Father exchanged a few expletives.
"Science woman. You'll get huge and ugly again." Cadmus swore silently. He didn’t need to think about his parent's most intimate moment, and certainly not the mutilation of the female form that only life could bring. It was why his parents were such an oddity for bringing upon life naturally.
"I found my way back to my usual form eventually," Evelyn exclaimed.
"I'm not hungry anymore." But his good judgment reminded him that he would certainly need the energy and Cadmus grabbed his Quiche.
"C, if you leave this Kitchen I promise I'll Take another child as revenge."
His father pursed his lips. "Do you think it's even possible for us?"
"I'm 41, not ancient."
***
Placement was a day of true equality, Cadmus reminded himself as he entered the cramped shuttle. He had never been on a bus before and was aghast at the rows of students staring back at him. “So we sit - er - anywhere?” He asked no one in particular.
The heads of his peers nodded in agreement as the auto-driver sang a tune of, “Kindly take to your seats, placement is upon us.”
Casida waved sheepishly at him and Cadmus slowly went to join her in the tiny row. He cursed himself for making eye contact but knew better than to spurn her and attract gossip. She nestled into the crook of his arm as Cadmus took his seat, blue eyes met blue. “Why hello there, C,” Casida said in greeting.
“Hello, C,” was his reply. He found himself studying her - the wide-set eyes perfectly balanced by her thin lips and wide smile. He knew she was beautiful. But, still, he couldn’t keep himself from comparing her fair features to that of his dreamgirl. It wasn’t Casida’s fault that fate played tricks on him.
“Ready for placement?” Casida asked him simply.
“I have never felt more ready.” He said plainly. Casida noticed his lip quiver ever-so-slightly. “And you?”
She ignored his question, dangerous… “You’re nervous.”
“Am not.” His words were careful, and collected.
“If we are to be wed, the least you can do is be truthful, Dear.” She smiled for good measure.
Cadmus grabbed her by the arm. “If we are to be wed then you should learn to listen to your future husband.” There was a ring around her wrist when he let go. “Dear.”
Casida bit her lip. “I know you’re nervous. Why?” she tempted.
Cadmus took the bait. Truth was power. “Every One fears the unknown. Even if they are too scared to admit it.” Casida nodded approvingly. As unsavory as it was to speak of nerves and weakness, truth outweighed all else.
***
Casida held onto Cadmus’s hand as they entered the sea of their peers meandering through the parking lot of the Coliseum. He let her hold onto him as they dodged through the hundreds of shuttles that littered the parking lot, stepping between groupings. Cadmus smirked at the dark uniforms of the underlings he passed through, the white of his uniform sparkling in contrast as brightly as the sea in dawn’s light. The droves of peers in their darker uniforms were careful not to get in any One’s way. “Is this part of the test?” Casida asked through clenched teeth. She held her breath as they passed through a large grouping of stalling Fives. His stomach churned. He had never seen so many Fives in one place.
Forced to respond Cadmus whispered, “Perhaps,” continuing - confident as ever - as he led his own shuffle of peers through the golden gates in front of the stadium. He was overwhelmed by the sheer quantity of bodies. Sure, he knew that he was among thousands of his peers that would be placed today. But that didn’t make it any less overwhelming to see the size of devotion that the citizens had to Markom.
There was an air of grandeur about him as he weaved through the uniformed masses. The walls of the entrance chamber pulsed with the electronic current that ran through them, numbers flashing on the wall in greeting as hoards of contemporaries approached parts of the wall. Silver cameras buzzed around them, floating in waves through the chamber as they clicked and sped to follow the various crowds, occasionally shouting commands.
As Casida and Cadmus approached, a segment of screen flashed, “Welcome Ones - Ready?” before a flash of arrows led them to the left of the chamber.
“Yes,” they chanted in unison as a part of the wall disappeared, revealing the outline of a golden door. Instinctively, Cadmus pushed on the screen, and parts of wall vanished to reveal a spiraling golden staircase. Cadmus ducked to enter the portal, leading his peers into the lower levels of the stadium - a tiny camera following behind.
Yet again they joined throngs of people moving forward. Cadmus fell into step with the boy beside him, nodding silently. He had never felt so small, so insignificant, and wondered if it was all part of the game. For the first time, he was almost grateful that Casida held on so tight, a reminder of who he was.
They slowed to a standstill as they filed into one singular queue. Casida let go of him reluctantly so they could more easily funnel into the quickly moving line. When Cadmus approached the front, a camera buzzed around him, scanning his iris. The device flashed green before a voice commanded him, “Ready?” It asked.
“Yes,” Cadmus responded.
“Cadmus 01. We wait for you in room 600.”
He stepped forward into a narrow hallway that seemed to go on for miles. As he walked, a wall to his right fell away and the number six appeared on its screen. Again, Cadmus pushed the hidden doorway and a golden staircase fell before him. He followed it down into another chamber. There a camera greeted him, verifying his identity before an arrow flashed on the wall and led him forward. His heart quickened, from the exertion in discovering this place, or from his nerves for what would come -- Cadmus wasn’t sure.
The number six-hundred appeared in bubble letters on the wall and Cadmus pushed the makeshift door which quickly faded away. With a deep breath, Cadmus entered the small chamber. A shower, toilet, and sink sat to his right, against the wall, while two chairs sat to his left. In the center was a giant pool of steaming blue liquid.
In an instance, the door opposite Cadmus flung open. A woman in a lab coat took the seat across from the pool. She stared at him, waiting.
“And you are?” Cadmus asked, he fought the urge to wipe his clammy hands on his white pants.
The woman smiled at him. “That doesn’t matter. You may call me Doctor.” Of course. “Today we will evaluate your weaknesses and determine your future with Markom.” She said simply. Cadmus nodded, he had heard the monologue before.
“You may undress, entirely, and enter the pool.” The woman placed a file on her seat. “You have three minutes.” And was gone.
Cadmus stripped, revealing the results of tireless training on his toned form. His muscles flexed as he reached to slide off his boots and lazily threw them by his pile of discarded clothes on the empty chair. He hesitated before entering the pool. His file lay messily on the chair, was it worth taking a glimpse before he entered the murky depths? He looked around at the corners of the room, there were no cameras in sight, but that didn’t mean they weren’t watching his every move. He smiled defiantly before grabbing the manila folder. Inside it was a simple sheet of white paper, with the words, “Made you look.”
Cadmus groaned, discarding it back on the seat. Of course. He was a mouse in their trap.
The instant he entered the pooling depths, blue bubbles swirling against his fair skin, the door opened again. The Doctor smiled at his naked form as Cadmus sunk further into its depths. She grabbed the folder and dropped it into the pool where it disintegrated into nothingness.
“First lesson. We are always watching.” Cadmus rolled his eyes. “You are a very predictable One.” She said plainly. The woman held onto a clipboard and began to scribble. When the scratching failed to stop, Cadmus knew she was messing with him.
“You mean to tell me that on Placement day any One wouldn’t jump at the chance to glimpse their fate?” He leaned backwards into the murky depths, testing her.
“On Placement Day Ones know not to be reckless.”
“Invincibility is not an act of recklessness.” He corrected.
“We will see.” She put down the clipboard on the chair and tapped delicately on the wall opposite the shower. A shelf appeared along with a series of electrical cords that Cadmus surmised he might attach to himself.
“As a child we had the knowledge to use genetics to predict your future. Now, as an adult, we have everything we need to cement your fate. Starting with a glimpse into your heart.”
Cadmus rolled his eyes. “Can’t wait.”
The Doctor paused. “Has anyone ever told you you’re an asshole?” Cadmus was positively fuming.
"No." Cadmus forced his reply.
"Well, I'm happy to the first. Cadmus 01 - you are an insufferable asshole."
And so began his first test: a glimpse into his heart.