“Tell Dad there are sick animals in sector seven. Might be from the new berries we cultivated there. We should run tests.”
I remember hearing about that problem over dinner—a week or maybe two before my graduation. They argued, laughed, and debated the problem long into the night, even allowing me to add a few thoughts of my own. I felt so grown-up to be included. So ready to take on the world. How silly that seems now.
For a while I am content to listen to Zeen’s voice as he records his thoughts on the sections outside of Five Lakes that my father and his team are working to revitalize. A disgruntled word makes me laugh. Mentions of Dad or my other brothers cause tears. And I wonder—how does the recorder work? I know the device can communicate with the one Dad has in his office, but I’ve never heard Dad mention that it doubles as a recorder.
It takes me a while to find the button. A small area in the back that looks to be a part of the casing but has been turned into something more. Something not originally designed to be a part of the device. Something created by Zeen.
The screwdriver on my pocketknife helps me reveal the rest of his handiwork. I can’t help smiling as I admire my brother’s ingenuity. A tiny black box has been nestled among the other wires and chips. By the way he spliced and connected the wires, I can see how he rigged the communication microphone to record voices and the earpiece to act as the playback speaker. All of it is done with seamless precision. Had I not squeezed so hard and mistakenly triggered the playback button on the back, I would never have recognized the recording device was there.
A knock startles me. Carefully, I slide the items into my Testing bag, go into the darkened bedroom, and open the door. The woman on the other side is holding a tray and wears a concerned expression. “Is everything okay in here?” she asks.
I guess my disappearance into the bathroom has not gone unnoticed.
“I’m fine,” I assure her, but from the commotion coming from down the hall, I fear someone else is not. Has one of the candidates ended the tension like Ryme did? Though I should no longer care, I worry for Tomas. I can’t help it. No matter how The Testing has changed him, he will always be the boy from home who was kind to everyone. I want him to live.
The Testing official hands me the lunch tray, tells me no decision has been made, and locks the door. For the first time, I don’t mind the solitude. I eat the chicken swimming in a delicate tomato sauce and the fresh vegetables before once again closing myself off in the bathroom.
For a while I take comfort in my brother’s voice as he lists the day-to-day tasks that need addressing. But the reality that another candidate may have died soon has me pacing the floor. Perhaps I should see it as one less candidate standing in my way to the ultimate goal. But I can’t. To me it is one more promising mind whose fate will soon be forgotten. Like the others who will be forgotten. Unless someone remembers. If the United Commonwealth and the Testing officials have their way, no one will. At least no one who cares.
I look at the device in my hands and have an idea. It takes me a few minutes to figure out which series of buttons starts the recording device. Once I do, I begin to talk. In a quiet and often unsteady voice I remember Malachi. His smile. His shy demeanor. His sweet singing voice and his death. Ryme. Her corncakes. Her cocky attitude. Finding her hanging from the ceiling in our room. The first of the Testing murders. I tell of waking up in the box. Walking out onto the broken streets of Chicago. The crossbow quarrel aimed at me. My terror. How the gun kicked in my hand.
I find the recording device can only record so much. I have to pick and choose what I tell. I agonize over which memories to preserve. It breaks my heart when I have to rewind and erase a story to preserve a different one. They all deserve to be remembered, but only a few can. More than once my tears force me to stop the recording. My heart stings. My lungs burn and my throat is raw when the recorder is full. But the memories are there. As much as the machine will hold. For someone to learn and remember.
Will they send the device back to my parents if my candidacy is unsuccessful? I doubt it. But maybe I can ask Michal to get it to them if I’m gone.
With my pocketknife, I etch a small design in the back of the device before shoving it in my bag. I then pile my clothes and other belongings on top and wash the evidence of my efforts from my face. When the Testing official brings dinner, she again asks after my welfare. I assure her I am fine and take the tray. Before she closes the door she says, “A decision has been made. The next class of University students will be announced after breakfast.”
Pass or fail, this will all end tomorrow.
Chapter 22
FOR THE FIRST time in weeks, there are no nightmares. Just dreams of home and a sense of peace and relief that this all will end soon. The knock at the door wakes me. A new tray with a request that I be dressed and packed in an hour. Someone will come for me.
I pick at the meal. Fresh strawberries. A thick, hot grain sweetened with raisins and walnuts. Tangy orange juice. Rolls thick with cinnamon icing. I try to enjoy it all, but a nervous tension begins to push aside my newfound well-being and I can eat only a few bites.
I fasten the clasp of my identification bracelet around my wrist. The second bracelet I place back on the strap of my bag. I think of my father and how he must have felt while preparing for his verdict. And I wait wondering if I will see Tomas before the officials remove our memories. Will he be able to pass me one of the pills? Will he see my newfound suspicions in my eyes?
When the knock comes, I am ready. Bag over my shoulder, I follow the dark-haired woman down the hallway. The small meal I consumed rolls in my stomach as we enter the elevator and ride in silence to the second floor. My escort’s expression stays neutral. No smile. No look of warning. Nothing to give away the fate that has been determined for me.
The door at the end of the brightly lit hallway is open and my Testing official tells me to go inside. They are waiting.
I shove my hands in my pockets to keep them from trembling and walk inside the large room with my escort trailing behind me. There are at least a dozen Testing officials seated behind a large table. Dr. Barnes sits at the center. A small white envelope is on the table in front of him. His expression is unreadable as I walk to a solitary chair placed in front of the table.
As I sit, Dr. Barnes gives me a warm smile. “I’m sorry you had to wait so long for us to make a decision, but we wanted to get it right.” Slowly, he takes the envelope, walks around the table, and comes to a stop in front of me. My heart thunders as he says, “I’m sure you’re anxious to receive the results of your Testing, so I won’t delay any further.”
He lifts the envelope flap and pulls out a white sheet of paper. He stares at it for a moment as though weighing the judgment before handing it to me. My fingers fumble with the paper. It takes me several tries before I can read the single word printed in bold black print in the center.
Pass
I did it.
A smile crosses my face, and my heart skips. I hear murmurs of congratulations from the officials in the room. Dr. Barnes tells me how proud he is and shakes my hand. Then something pinches my neck and the world goes black.
I failed.
My fingers trace the five lines etched in my left arm as I study them in the reflector of my University student quarters. Three rooms—bedroom, living space, and bathroom—that have been assigned to me for the first phase of my studies. Signs that I passed my Testing. The most important achievement of my life. And yet, I remember none of it.
I must have tried to avoid the memory loss. And still I failed. All I remember is the trip to Tosu City in the black skimmer. A scruffy, mean-eyed boy tripping Malachi. My roommate and her corncakes. And then nothing until the moment when I find myself in a room sitting among what I can only assume are other Testing candidates. My eyes fly around the room, looking for familiar faces, as a gray-haired, bearded man in a purple jumpsuit climbs onto a lit stage. He gives us all a warm, delighted smile and says, “Con
gratulations. I am happy to say you are the twenty candidates who have been chosen to attend the University next year.”
Surprise. Delight. Confusion. And then understanding. The Testing is over. I passed. Dr. Barnes tells us we will be moved from the Testing Center into our new living quarters as soon as the meeting is over. There will be a celebration afterward so we can get to know one another. But I already know one of the candidates. My heart leaps with joy as a pair of gray eyes meets mine. And when he holds out his arms, I fly into them—happy that a familiar face is here. I will not embark on this adventure alone. Tomas is with me.
That was almost three weeks ago. Tomas and I have spent part of every day together, exploring the city and learning about each other. Just thinking about seeing him again today makes my insides flutter.
A knock on my door makes me jump. I roll down my sleeve, hiding the five jagged scars, and answer the door.
“Hey, you’re not ready.” Stacia’s dark eyes narrow as she takes in my white tunic and brown pants. “You can’t go to the party looking like that. What will everyone think?”
“The party isn’t for another hour.” I laugh. “Don’t worry. I’ll be appropriately dressed.”
“You’d better be.” She frowns before stalking off, but I see the smile lurking under the serious demeanor. Stacia’s frown has kept most of the other candidates, including Tomas, at bay. But for some reason, I decided to talk to her and we seem to get along. I can’t help thinking that we must have met during the six-week Testing period. Maybe our friendship began then and we are just continuing it now.
Closing the door, I decide Stacia’s right. I should probably get ready for the party. After all, it is for me.
Between meeting University instructors, taking tours of the facilities, and moving into our apartments, none of us has had time to shop for new clothing. We’ve been given a few spare items from other University students, and Dr. Barnes has said we will be able to purchase new garments during the next few weeks. So I dress as usual in pants, but change into a borrowed blue shirt that covers my scars. I leave my hair down because Tomas mentioned that he likes it loose. As the only two Five Lakes Colony students who passed, we’re naturally drawn to each other. But there is something more than just the talk of home. Something warmer and richer and more exciting than friendship. Perhaps it’s silly for me to think our feelings might be love. But they might be. And now that The Testing is over, there’s nothing to prevent me and Tomas from finding out.
The next time Stacia knocks, I have clasped the silver identification bracelet etched with a single star, the symbol of a first-year University student, onto my wrist and am ready to go. The chatter of voices greets us as we step outside, and when we turn the corner I can’t help grinning. I see a banner wishing me Happy Birthday, a large cake filled with candles, and people smiling. Tomas. Dr. Barnes. Our entire University class and a number of the Testing officials are here to celebrate my birthday.
Someone spots us. Everyone turns, and together they begin to sing. I don’t know if all colonies sing this song to mark the occasion of one’s birth or if Tomas has taught it to them, but the song evokes memories of home. I can’t help but cry.
When the song is over, a gentle finger wipes the tear that falls down my cheek. “Hey, this is supposed to be a happy occasion. Maybe the song wasn’t such a good idea after all.”
“No.” I smile up at Tomas. “It was perfect. Honest.”
“Really?”
He brushes his lips against mine, and I smile. “Really.”
“Hey,” a teasing voice calls. “Other guys want to give the birthday girl a kiss too.”
Tomas frowns as Will walks up, plants a kiss on my cheek, and swings his arm around my shoulders. Will’s long hair is pulled back at his nape and his eyes flash with humor, which is good to see. As soon as Dr. Barnes finished congratulating us on our acceptance, Will raised his hand and asked about his brother, Gill, who came to The Testing with him. When Dr. Barnes explained that only Will had been accepted and, like all unsuccessful candidates, his brother had been assigned to a new colony, Will went nuts. It took four Testing officials to remove him from the lecture hall and several days before they considered him calm enough to move into his University quarters. Some of the students whispered that the officials were planning on calling back one of the unsuccessful candidates to replace him. But Will returned, and I’m glad he did.
Will gives me a second kiss on the cheek, and when Tomas protests he laughs. “Your boyfriend here is just jealous that the two of us are paired together for city orientation. Personally, I think you’re too good for any of us, Cia. But what do I know?”
Will’s words feel familiar. I find myself, not for the first time, cocking my head to the side, trying to recall something that hovers just out of reach.
Tomas tells Will he has no need to be jealous. Other candidates join us. A large, quiet boy named Brick hands me flowers. Then the conversation switches to our upcoming orientation. Before classes begin, all students spend four weeks meeting with Tosu City officials and representatives from every colony. We will also travel the city, learning about the place we are to call home for the next several years. The students are paired up for their assigned meetings and tours. That Will is my partner doesn’t sit well with Tomas. Not because he thinks there is anything romantic between us. Tomas gets along with most of the other students in our class, but Will seems to rub him the wrong way. I hope the two of them will work out their differences over the next weeks and months ahead.
Someone pulls out a solar radio, and the dancing starts. Even Dr. Barnes gets into the swing of things and twists and twirls with another Testing official who before they leave is introduced as his wife.
By the time the sun threatens to set, my feet are sore from dancing and I’ve eaten far too much birthday cake. I’m thinking about going back to my rooms when I see a familiar face lounging against a tree. I tell Tomas I’ll be back in a few minutes and walk across the courtyard to where Tosu City official Michal Gallen is standing.
“Happy birthday.”
“Have you been here all along?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I figured it would be best if I waited until some of the guests had gone home. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have time to talk. Congratulations on passing The Testing. Not that I’m surprised. You’re smart. You’re strong. I knew you could make it.”
The sense of déjà vu hits me again. But as I try to grab on to the memories, they scatter like the wind.
“What’s wrong?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. Just, I could swear I’ve heard you say those words before. Funny, right?”
He smiles, but doesn’t deny it. Instead, he says, “I brought you something.” He pulls a package from behind his back and hands it to me. When I start to unwrap it, he shakes his head. “Why don’t you wait until you’re alone or we’ll both end up in trouble. University policy states students will have minimal contact with their families, but I couldn’t see the harm in bringing you this.”
My family. I turn the present over in my hands with wonder. “How? Did my family contact you?”
“There was something I had to take care of in Madison Colony last week. I heard your father was going to be meeting with some people there, too, and decided to give him a call. He asked me to bring your family’s gift to you.”
The words are benign. A nice guy doing a nice thing for a girl far from home. But just a few minutes ago he didn’t deny that there are things he’s said to me that I no longer remember. I feel the gift in my hands and know there is more being said here than what it seems.
For a moment our eyes lock. I search his face for answers as someone shouts my name. I turn to see Tomas and some of the others waving their desire for me to return. “I’ll be there in a minute,” I yell. But when I turn back, Michal is gone.
A few of the other students tease me about a Tosu official bringing me a gift. I explain that he was our escort to The Testing,
but that just makes the girls giggle harder. Even Tomas raises an eyebrow, but I give him a look that says I’ll explain everything later and keep the origin of the gift to myself. Michal has broken the rules to get this gift to me. I don’t want him to get in trouble for his efforts.
The sky darkens, and the party breaks up. Tomas walks me to my door, gives me a tender kiss, and then gives me something even better—his love. When I tell him I think I might love him back, time feels like it stands still as Tomas stares deep into my eyes as if searching to see if I am telling the truth. After one last kiss and a promise to see me in the morning, Tomas leaves. And, finally, I am alone with my gift. A gift from home. While I have forgotten the passing of the days that led to my birthday, my family did not. I open the box and find two cards and a bouquet of dried roses in a small cast-iron pot. Flowers my father and brothers created in the pot that my mother says was handed down from her mother. I couldn’t ask for a better gift.
Setting the flowers on the table next to my bed, I read the cards. One from Daileen telling me how much she misses me but promising to see me here next year. Then one from my family. Three of my brothers have scribbled a line telling me they miss me or wishing me a happy day. Zeen’s inscription says he’s proud of my achievements and sorry for his behavior on the night I left. He also wants his Transit Communicator back.
Laughing, I grab the device out of my Testing candidate bag and turn it over in my hand. No doubt Dad has already gotten a new device for Zeen. But sure, I’ll send it back. Just not before teasing Zeen a bit first. After all, what are younger sisters for?
I dump the device back into my bag and shove it under my bed. As I head to the closet to grab my nightclothes, I hear a clicking sound.
Drat. I must have turned the Transit Communicator on when I pushed the bag.