The Testing

  Michal glances at his watch and mutters a curse. “I have to make my final report to the University officials. Now that you’ve been placed in your designated field of study, my assignment to watch you is complete. Symon’s asked some of his allies within the Commonwealth Government to shift me to a job that will help influence change, so I might not be around to help, but I’ll get word to someone who can.”

  I start to ask who, but Michal starts walking toward my rooms and I have to hurry to catch up.

  As we walk, he quietly explains, “During the first couple of days, the upper-year Government students are going to put you through what they call an Induction. They will be watching how you react to certain challenges. They might try to intimidate you or make you feel weak just to see if you are. Some challenges will be mental. Others, more physical. All are intended to see whether you can handle the pressure of leading a country. Remember that the Tosu City students haven’t been through the rigorous Testing process. This is the University’s way of exposing them to the same pressures. Once in a while, a first-year student gets angry and reports the initiation tactics to his head professor. Don’t. As a colony student, you already have one strike against you. They expect you to be weak. They expect you to be less than they are. Show them they’re wrong.”

  Fear shivers up my spine. “What if I can’t?”

  Michal stops walking and puts his hands on my shoulders. “You can. Everything you did in The Testing proves it. You may not remember what happened then, but I do. You’re smart. You’re fast, and you’re strong.”

  “I’m the youngest student here.”

  “Use that.” He nods. “The Tosu students are going to look at your size and pretty face and assume you aren’t a threat, but I know different. They have no idea what you are capable of. I, for one, can’t wait for you to show them.”

  I tamp down my anxiety and force myself to concentrate as Michal gives me all the information he can. Since the final-year students are the ones who orchestrate and execute the Inductions, no one can predict what exactly will happen—teamwork evaluations, trivia tests, exercises that push the boundaries of physical endurance.

  “Memorize every face. Every name. Every detail. Learn where they come from and who they are related to. You never know what information will help you or the rebellion. Most students come from the families of high-ranking officials. But every year, there are a few from the less influential neighborhoods. They can be the most dangerous. They fought hard to get where they are. They won’t be pushed aside without a fight. More important, don’t show anyone if you are afraid. Government professors value students who can push aside their fear. Everyone at some point is afraid of making the wrong choice. The program’s faculty believes the difference between Government students and the rest of the University student body is the ability to rise above that fear.”

  Thank goodness Michal doesn’t say I’m not allowed to feel fear. Minutes later, as I replace my bracelet on my wrist and follow the sound of conversation and laughter to the common room, fear consumes me. Fear that I have made the wrong choice. That I should have run far and fast. That my fellow Government students will see the horror of what I know in my eyes. That they will pass judgment. That I will fail.

  Only the warmth of Tomas’s hand in mine and the hope that Symon’s plan will put an end to a system that goes against the principles our rebuilt country stands for keep me in this seat, in this room, at this University. Stacia glances at Tomas and me and rolls her eyes. I pretend to laugh as I look around the room at the faces of those who might have killed to get here as they celebrate. As we say our last good nights in this building and head off to our beds, my fellow colony students are unaware that a new test begins tomorrow. They do not know they should be as afraid as I am.

  When Tomas walks me to my door, I consider passing along Michal’s warning, but stop. Trust wars with love. The knowledge that the Transit Communicator’s recording is real doesn’t stop my heart from wanting to believe in Tomas’s innate kindness. But something happened. Something he lied about then. Something involving Zandri. Then Tomas’s arms pull me close. His lips touch mine, and all thoughts of the Tosu City students fade. I let myself forget the world around me and revel in this instant when I feel safe.

  When Tomas steps back, he whispers that he will see me in the morning. That he loves me and that no matter what our fields of study, we are still a team. We will always be a team. With one last gentle kiss, he disappears down the hall to find sleep. I turn to do the same.

  A stunning girl with deep red hair appears out of the darkness. Anger pours from her blue eyes. Anger at me because I wasn’t smart enough. Fast enough. Observant enough. I realized too late that our team was betrayed. She was punished. I was not.

  A door appears beside her. I yell for her not to open it, but it’s too late. Just like it was then. Her body goes still. Her skin turns gray. Her eyes roll back in her head. The door swings open just in time for her body to pitch forward into the darkness. The minute the door slams shut, I bolt upright in bed.

  “Annalise.” The name passes my lips, and though there is no mention of a girl named Annalise on the recorder, I can close my eyes now and picture her. Not angry as she was in the dream, but flashes of her laughing in the hallway of The Testing building. Confident in her abilities. Friendly.

  Real? Imagined? I search inside myself for the truth, but find only the slamming of my heart and the lingering taste of fear.

  I turn on the lights, walk to the bath, and use the water to wash the terror from my face and mouth. Through the bedroom window, I can see dawn has yet to break. Hours yet before I start the next phase of my studies. I climb back into bed, hoping to find much-needed rest. Finally, I do.

  The sound of doors slamming pulls me out of sleep. Raised voices are filled with excitement. Everyone is up and ready to relocate to the new residences. If I want people to continue to believe I am enthusiastic about being here, I need to get ready too.

  I have just finished dressing when I hear a knock on my door. I open it expecting to find Tomas and instead come face-to-face with a tall, imposing woman with a cap of orange hair that matches the frames of her glasses.

  “Malencia Vale?” When I nod, she smiles. “I’m Professor Verna Holt. The head professor of Government Studies.”

  While her voice is warm, it feels calculated. Practiced. The tone my mother uses when she trades with arrogant Mrs. Pitzler for wool yarn. Professor Holt’s dark, almond-shaped eyes don’t blink as she looks down at me. Had I not talked to Michal, I might have shown surprise. Most likely, I would have assumed I’d missed a meeting time and offered my apologies. Instead, I hear Michal saying I will be tested. As a colony student, I’m expected to be weak. I vow to show Professor Holt and her team that I am strong.

  Straightening my shoulders, I give my most confident smile. “It’s an honor to meet you. I’m looking forward to moving into the Government Studies residence later today.”

  Professor Holt’s eyebrows rise. “If you are packed and ready, I’ll walk you outside, where a final-year student is waiting to show you to your new home.”

  I glance at the clock. It’s two hours before the time we were instructed to be ready. Good thing I’m prepared to leave now. I sling two bags containing my clothes, personal possessions, and books over my shoulder and exit through the door without a backward glance.

  The sky is overcast. Outside, a male student with close-cropped brown hair and an intense expression is waiting alongside two of my fellow first years, Will and the dark-haired Rawson. I take a step back when Will turns toward me. I know he’s a murderer. Has Rawson also killed? My recorder never mentions him, but so much of what happened is missing. Should I believe that every candidate is capable of taking a life?

  “This is Ian,” Professor Holt says. “He will see you to the Government Studies residence. I trust you will be comfortable there.” With a curt nod, she turns on her heel and strides away.

  We all
look at Ian. In his fitted black pants, shiny black boots, and deep purple shirt, Ian is more than a little imposing. Until he grins. The sternness disappears, replaced by an exuberance that makes me think of my brother Win. In a rich baritone voice, he says, “Congratulations on being selected for Government Studies. Not only are we the smartest students on campus, our house is the largest, which means we all get our own room.”

  I see Tomas come out of the building as Ian asks us to follow him. Tomas turns toward us. While I want to run to him and tell him where I’m going and what possibly lies ahead for both of us, I see Ian watching me. Waiting.

  Over the years, my father complained several times that University graduates rarely had friends outside their designated fields of study. Part of me always thought he was exaggerating, since none of the graduates in Five Lakes behaved in that manner. But the way Ian’s gaze shifts from me to Tomas makes me pause. If my father is correct, the students in my field of study might not appreciate my relationship with someone outside our career path.

  Tomas comes closer. His eyes are bright. Happy. Seeing him warms my heart, but I do not return his grin with one of my own. Instead, I give a tiny shake of my head. I hope he sees the apology, love, and warning in my expression before I turn and walk away.

  Ian glances up at the rumbling sky as he leads us across campus. “If we hurry, we should make it to the residence before the rain starts. The one downside to being part of Government Studies is the distance you have to walk to class. Professor Holt says exercise moves the blood in the brain, which helps us think.” Ian laughs. “I’d be more impressed by that reasoning if Professor Holt didn’t use a skimmer to get around campus.”

  We laugh. After a moment, Ian asks, “So, did any of you actually want to be chosen for Government Studies?”

  Will looks down at the stone walkway. Rawson’s cheeks tinge red. It’s clear none of us want to be taking this walk today. Ian must know that.

  Since I have not made any attempt to hide my desired course of study, I confess, “I wanted Mechanical Engineering. Government was the last choice on my list.”

  “Cia.” Will nudges me with his elbow. I probably should stay quiet, but instead I smile at Ian and ask, “Was Government Studies your first choice?”

  Ian frowns. My shoulders tense until I notice the corners of Ian’s mouth twitch. Finally, he laughs. “I wanted Education and was pretty steamed when they stuck me here. It didn’t take me long to realize very few students who want to be placed in Government Studies actually are.”

  “Why is that?” I ask.

  Ian stops. “Because sometimes the best leaders are the ones who have no interest in leading. Those are often the ones who are most interested in doing what is right, not what is popular.” He gives an embarrassed shrug and starts walking again. “Sorry about the lecture. The last thing I want to do is sound like one of the professors. But in this case, I think they’re right.”

  Ian falls silent. For the next several minutes, thunder is the only accompaniment to our journey. It isn’t until we pass the History building that I realize we are going into a section of campus I have only walked through once, during the University tour after passing The Testing. It’s a section less utilized because it was hit harder than the rest by the earthquakes that shook the country during the Sixth Stage of War.

  Here trees are less abundant. The grass has been revitalized, but is a shade yellower. Ian leads us across a bridge that was erected after Tosu City was named. The bridge spans a gap over twenty feet wide and hundreds of feet deep. In the distance, I see a massive, three-story structure constructed of dark gray stone. Atop the structure is a clock tower. As we step off the bridge, I spot a small stone sign engraved with the words GOVERNMENT STUDIES.

  “The clock tower is several hundred years old.” Ian’s voice breaks the silence. “The earthquake that caused the fissure we just passed tore apart several buildings, including the one with that tower. While most of the tower’s original building was reduced to rubble, the clock portion survived. When the founders of the University decided to construct the Government Studies residence, they had the architects include the tower as an homage to the past.”

  I look at the tower with new appreciation, but can’t help wishing the builders had made the rest of the residence more hospitable. Aside from the lovely tower, the building is all hard lines and massive stone. Tall, narrow windows line the second and third floors. A large black door at the end of the building looks to be the only entrance or exit. A small sign next to the door says WELCOME, which is almost funny, since I feel anything but.

  “Don’t worry,” Ian says. “It’s homier than it looks.”

  “It would almost have to be.” I laugh as a drop of rain hits me.

  The sky rumbles, and rain falls faster as we race for cover. Ian pushes open the heavy wooden door, waits until all of us step inside, and then closes it behind us. Lights blaze in the foyer, giving me a clear view of the framed portraits that line the room. The first president of the United States, George Washington. The last United States president, Nicholas Dalton. The five presidents that have served the United Commonwealth. A few others, whose faces I don’t recognize but whose names I’d probably know from my history lessons. People who ran our country. Did their best to change the world for the better.

  “As you can probably guess, the students have no say in decorating the common rooms. Otherwise, the portraits would have been used for firewood years ago.” Ian gives our current president’s face a pat as he passes through the doorway and beckons us to follow him into a wide room filled with cushioned benches, faded armchairs, an enormous fireplace with a burning fire, and people. At least two dozen of them. Whispering. Eyes wide with curiosity as they study us.

  I scan the faces. Most appear close to my age, but a handful look like Ian—older, more experienced, watching our every move.

  Ian tells us to take a seat. A girl with short curly blond hair and cheeks filled with freckles shifts to the end of her bench, giving Will, Rawson, and me room to sit. Once we do, Ian walks across the room, stands in front of the arched stone fireplace, and says, “For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Ian Maass. I’m a final-year Government student. For the next several weeks, I’ll be serving as one of your designated study’s guides. Each first-year student will be assigned to a guide who will show you around, help you figure out where your classes are, and answer whatever questions you might have. This year, there are sixteen of you in the first-year class.”

  Will sucks in air. Rawson blinks. Even knowing the Tosu City students would be here, I feel my heart race at the sight of the faces turned toward us. Some look smug. Others are curious. Many snicker, which says that while we did not know of their presence, they have not been unaware of us. I don’t know where they have been studying these past months, but no matter where they have been, they are here now and ready to do what it takes to make top grades.

  I see Ian assessing our reactions from across the room. His eyebrows shift upward as he looks at me. Then he continues to speak. “Adjusting to University life and to your new residence is always a challenge. The guides are here to make that easier. Think of us as a big brother or sister and come to us with any questions, concerns, or fears. We can’t help you if we don’t know there’s a problem.”

  The older students smile.

  “When I announce your name, please stand so your guide can identify you. Once all assignments are complete, your guide will show you to your room and help get you settled in. And since I’m already standing, I’ll announce my little siblings first.” Ian takes a clipboard from a dark-skinned girl who gives him a flirty smile.

  “Kaleigh Cline.” The freckled girl at the end of our bench swallows hard and stands. “Raffe Jeffries.” A tall, broad-shouldered boy with bushy eyebrows stands to my left. “Last, but by no means least, Malencia Vale.”

  Most eyes in the room swing toward me when I stand, but I can’t help noticing the quizzical look the da
rk-skinned girl gives Ian. She had the clipboard with the list of first years and the guides they were assigned. Did Ian alter the assignments?

  I continue to wonder as Ian announces the rest of the mentoring assignments. Three Tosu City boys are assigned to the dark-skinned girl, whose name turns out to be Himani Biseck. If I was supposed to be placed with her, I’m grateful to Ian for the change. Himani’s smile is bright, but something about the narrowing of her eyes reminds me of a cat stalking a field mouse.

  As Michal suggested, I try to memorize names and faces. Will is called next, along with a slightly rounded girl named Olive and a boy with no hair named Griffin. The three are assigned to a big brother with large black-rimmed glasses who I think is named Sam. Rawson’s trio is completed by a sweet-faced boy named Enzo and a girl with sharp features called Juliet. They are assigned to a hulking final year Ian introduces as Lazar. The last four first years, three boys and a girl, are assigned to a tall, brown-haired girl with wide-set eyes. Due to the murmurs in the room, I have a hard time catching their names. I can’t help noticing that first-year girls are outnumbered at least three to one.

  Before I can decide whether those odds put me at a disadvantage, Ian lays down the clipboard, grabs something from the girl next to him, and says, “Your guides will now show you to your rooms and help you settle in. Kaleigh, Raffe, Malencia, you’re with me.”

  Ian heads through a door to his left. I grab my bags and hurry after him, dodging other students looking for their guides. For once, my height and small build are an advantage as I zigzag under and around and reach the doorway first. Ian is standing in the middle of a dimly lit room filled with shelf after shelf of books. He grins as I cross the threshold, but says nothing until the other two first years arrive. Moments later, Raffe strides through the doorway. He stands at least a foot taller than I and scowls when he is bumped into from behind by the third member of our group.

  “First things first,” Ian says with a grin. “I’m going to take you on a quick tour of the place before showing you to your personal quarters. This is one of three library rooms in the building. All the books stored in our libraries can also be found in the main campus library. The main library’s books are in better shape than these, but we’re willing to put up with faded ink, broken bindings, and water-damaged pages, especially when it’s raining outside. Just make sure you put the books back where you found them when you’re done, or your fellow students will get testy. Follow me.”