Page 8 of Rite of Unity

The room smelled of boiled starch and the faint chemical bite of the cleaning solution they used on the floors.When I started here, just three years ago, it was loud enough that you had to lean in to hear anything.Today, it echoed.

“I swear, every day there are fewer women here.Doesn’t anyone want to work in Religious Affairs anymore?”

Ruth leaned forward conspiratorially.“There’s a rumor going around that you’re more likely to be selected if you have a job in something more appealing, like childcare or cooking.Even sewing yields better results.”

Grace sat down beside Ruth.

I ran a thumb over my papercut under the table.“Where did you hear that?”

“There’s a news report on Monday nights.It ranks women based on everything from their age when married to their job.The numbers are pretty scary.”

“Oh, I watched that!”Grace said.

She’d watched that report and still ended up here.I glanced at her, really looking at her for the first time.Maybe she was braver than she appeared.

I exhaled a slow sigh and reached for my bread, tearing into it.Here, among only women, I could eat freely.I didn’t have to use a fork and knife to cut everything into tiny morsels or chew delicately.

“Maryn, slow down, you’ll choke.”

Ruth’s smile was too tight, and my head jerked around automatically, scanning the room.There, in the corner: a man.I hadn’t seen him.I swallowed audibly, took a sip of my water, and picked up my utensils.Peering under my lashes, I watched him set down a bag and move to join the line of women.His dark clothes were a stark contrast to the white we wore.

They halted, giving him space, and he held out a hand to usher them to continue.If he noticed that all chatter had died when we saw him, he didn’t seem to care.As he stood in line, waiting for his turn, most of us had given up all pretense and were openly staring.

What was he doing here?In a woman-operated building?

He moved to the front of the line without reaching for a tray and stepped forward.The woman serving lifted her spoon.It was shaking so badly that some of the mash spilled onto the counter.She looked down, cheeks turning red.

“Ma’am.”The man’s voice was higher than I’d have expected.He cleared his throat.“Miss, look at me.”

She looked up, eyes misting.

“Do you have your paperwork?”

I swallowed.Of course.He was a genetic inspector.I’d never seen one in real life.He was shorter than I would have imagined.

The woman mumbled something, and I tried to remember her name.She had been in a rite two years ago.She wasn’t yet twenty-eight, but she’d failed for the third time.She couldn’t be much older than me.I dug my nails into my palms.Barren woman—why can’t I remember her name?

“Speak up,” the inspector barked.

“I didn’t… bring it.”

He nodded.“Please hold out your hand.”

She set her spoon down, and the trembling became a violent shake as she lifted her arm.The inspector produced a small metal device from his pocket and scanned the barcode imprinted across her wrist.He waited, and the room collectively held its breath.

A beep broke the silence, and he looked up.“Clear.Next time… have your paperwork.”

She nodded, her lip trembling.He moved to the next woman in the line who was already holding out her paperwork, head down.Soft chatter resumed as he reached the end of the line.No one looked at the woman behind the counter.

I turned back to Ruth and Grace.

Ruth exhaled a shaky breath and dipped her spoon into her mash, Grace mirrored her, none of us speaking.

I stared at my plate, counting to five in my head.Then again.Finally, I picked up my fork and knife and began to cut my food.

Chapter 3

Maryn