“It’s the same plan Ranetta’s rebel faction was supposed to execute,” I explain. “And it makes a terrible kind of sense. If Dr. Barnes and the other leaders are eliminated—”
“I’m not referring to the plan. I can understand why she’d believe that tactic is her only choice. What I don’t get is why she’s asking you to do it.”
“Symon was able to get Michal assigned to her office as a spy. There could be others who report back . . .” I pull my hand away and wrap my arms around myself. “I think she’s right. Asking me could be the only real chance of her plan succeeding.”
“Except that you aren’t a killer. Even when we were betrayed during The Testing, you refused to kill deliberately.” I start to protest but Tomas cuts me off. “If you really wanted to eliminate Will during the fourth test, you would have.”
But I did try. I can still feel the kick of the gun. My desperation as Tomas lay bleeding on the ground—a victim of Will’s desire to win at all costs. I wanted Will to pay for his betrayal. I failed then. This time I cannot.
“I know you want to end The Testing, Cia. I do too, but this is too much for the president to ask of you. This shouldn’t be your job.”
But it is.
Straightening my shoulders, I say, “I have been given an assignment by the president of the United Commonwealth, and I’m going to accept.” Fear wells up inside me, but alongside it is a determination as strong as steel. “I don’t want to hurt anyone, Tomas, but to end The Testing and save my brother and Daileen and everyone else, I will do this.”
“Are you sure?” I hear the unhappiness in his voice. Not long ago, he asked me to leave the University with him. When I refused, he chose to stay with me. But I know that’s still what he really wants. To flee. To go home. To pretend none of what we have seen and what we know is real. As much as I have planned to have him at my side during the weeks ahead, I love him. Because of that, I have to let him go.
“I am.” Two words from which there is no going back. I will do what I must. But Tomas doesn’t have to. “You don’t have to do this. You can leave.”
Pressure builds in my chest. Tears pool behind my eyes. I feel one fall as I steel myself against the pain. “I might not succeed,” I say. “If I don’t, one of us should go back to Five Lakes and tell Magistrate Owens what’s happening here. Our families and friends need to be prepared for whatever comes. They need you.”
I wait for him to respond. Another tear falls.
“Tomas?” I reach out to him, but he steps away from my touch.
“Promise me that if we fail and war breaks out, we run,” he says.
“You can’t—”
“Yes, I can.” He steps closer, and in the dimness I see his face. So handsome. So dear. “I won’t leave you to do this alone.”
“But—”
His mouth touches mine, silencing my protest. I wrap my arms around him and sink into the kiss. After this I will find a way to convince him to go. But I want this one memory to hold close. This moment.
His arms wrap tight around me. In their circle I am safe, but I feel a fire start to burn. My hands touch his cheeks, his neck, his arms, memorizing the feel of him. My breath comes faster. I allow myself one last kiss, then step out of the warmth of Tomas’s arms.
Taking a steadying breath, I say, “I want you to tell me that you’ll leave.”
“I’ll leave only when you do. Until then, we’re in this together.”
He kisses me again. His fingers lace through mine. We stand in the shadows, facing the unknown like we did on the plains during the fourth test. “Together,” I agree.
Maybe if I pushed harder, he would promise to return home. But I don’t. Because this is his fight, too. Because I know, if I am going to succeed, I need him at my side. Because my heart cannot bear to push him away.
“How many names are on the president’s list?”
“Twelve.” I run down the list of names I memorized earlier.
“The president can’t believe you can handle all of that by yourself.”
“She might, but I know I need help,” I say. “I was hoping you’d stand with me, and I think Stacia might. But we’ll need more. People who believe as we do and can handle the decisions we are going to have to make. People we can trust.”
“Trust takes time. That’s something we don’t have.”
Tomas is right. Trust does take time. So does understanding a person’s strengths and weaknesses. The task I have accepted should seem impossible, yet, in a matter of weeks, Dr. Barnes was able to determine not only who was smart enough to lead our country but how we would comport ourselves when faced with extreme pressure and life-threatening situations.
Everyone here at the University was chosen to lead. But what I will need to know is that those on my team believe as I do that The Testing must be ended. That those who have worked for the rebellion, thinking they were bringing change, must be saved. That we need new leaders who will change the system that brought us here in order to secure the futures of those younger than us who dream of someday being selected. And if the people I decide to ask to participate in this terrible task are willing to fight for those things, there is still one question that must be answered.
Can they be trusted?
To learn the answer Tomas and I have only one choice. We will need to stage our own Testing.
Tomas listens as I tell him my idea as well as everything I learned about the people on the list and their visions for the future of The Testing. When I am done, he doesn’t make another plea for us to leave. Instead he says, “A week doesn’t give us much time to assemble a team and carry out a plan.”
“I’ll talk to Stacia tomorrow after class,” I say.
“Are you sure we can trust her? I know she’s your friend, but . . .”
I’m certain he is remembering the encounter we had with her during the fourth test. I remember it too. She was with two candidates from her colony—a blond girl named Tracelyn and a boy named Vic. We spent only a few hours with them, during which Stacia was standoffish. When she did speak, she casually expressed the belief that Testing officials would be justified in passing candidates who chose to kill. When the fourth test ended, Stacia and Vic had crossed the finish line. Tracelyn had not. And the smile Stacia wore on the days leading to our interviews and selection made me think she had something to do with Tracelyn’s failure to pass that test.
“No,” I admit. “But I think I understand what motivates her.” Which might be more important. “I can’t say the same about the others I’m considering.”
“I wish there were more students from Five Lakes.” Tomas says. “At least we’d understand where they came from and what they were taught to believe.”
Knowing Tomas is thinking of Zandri, I give his hand a squeeze and think about how much I wish she were with us too.
“I think there might be others from Five Lakes here in Tosu City.” Quickly, I tell Tomas about Dreu Owens and the information I found about him. “If he’s still in Tosu City, he might be willing to help us.”
“Maybe.” Tomas smiles for the first time since I told him about the president’s directive. “I know a number of Biological Engineering graduates, like your father, are sent to the colonies, but a lot of them are assigned to work in Tosu City. One of the people I work with in my internship might know where to find Dreu. If not, the head of my residence should have an idea where he is. It would be good to have someone on our team who knows how things work in Tosu City.”
True. Which is why Raffe and Enzo are both on my Testing list. The idea of Raffe as a team member doesn’t make Tomas happy, but instead of arguing he says, “If you can find a way to test Raffe that shows he isn’t like Will, I’ll be okay working with him.”
In my mind I see a flash of Tomas’s face going pale as Will’s bullet hits home. Red blooming on Tomas’s shirt. Him clutching his torso as he falls to the ground. Whatever test I create for Raffe to prove he is capable of being on our team will
have to be definitive in order to gain Tomas’s agreement.
I check the time. Dinner will be served soon. With Professor Holt and rebel students scrutinizing all that is happening around them, I dare not be late. We will meet after classes tomorrow. By then I hope Tomas will have learned something about Dreu Owens and I will not only have secured Stacia’s agreement but will have come up with ways to test Raffe, Ian, and Enzo.
“If you need to contact me before then, use this.” I pull out the pulse radio that uses the frequency I chose for just the two of us.
Tomas takes the radio from me and smiles. “I like knowing I can get in touch with you whenever I want. You’re probably going to hear from me so often that you’ll be sorry you gave it to me.”
“I doubt it,” I say, taking his hand in mine. “I know being a part of this isn’t something you want.”
“No. And it isn’t what you want, either.” He reaches out and runs his fingers across my cheek. “We’re going to get through this, Cia. I promise you. One way or another.”
One way or another.
We agree to test the radios later. After one last kiss, I turn and walk out the door to head back to my residence. Tomas will wait ten minutes and then go to his. We will meet again tomorrow. By then our own version of The Testing will have begun.
Chapter 7
I LEAVE THE dining hall as soon as I finish eating. Between Griffin’s glares, Raffe’s forced smiles, and Ian’s concerned glances, I had little interest in the meal. Most of the other students didn’t have the same problem, especially when it was announced that the ban on leaving campus would be extended one more day. Not having to attend internships made some of the students cheer. I couldn’t help but notice that Ian wasn’t among them. No one seemed concerned about the search of their rooms that had occurred just hours before. But I was.
When I return to my rooms, I brace myself as I slide the key in the door. During dinner, I heard a few annoyed whispers about items that were taken from students’ rooms. An old straight razor Sam’s grandfather taught him how to shave with. A journal one girl had kept since she first started at the University. An old map of Tosu City from the days when it was called Wichita. Nothing that seemed important. Not a single object that could help Professor Holt discover Damone’s whereabouts. But I did notice people casting glances at those who confessed to discovering items missing from their rooms.
Despite the search that took place, my rooms look almost exactly as I left them. I search to see if anything is missing. The vase of dried flowers and my clothes are here. The books for my classwork are accounted for. The homework I need to turn in tomorrow has not been disturbed. One by one I pull out the desk drawers and check their contents. Pencils and page clips. Straightedges and old assignments I have not yet recycled. Bits of wire, pieces of metal, small copper plates, some screws and other hardware—the things I used to make the transmitters I designed to interfere with the signal of the tracking device in my bracelet. Not that these things are unique to that purpose, but there is a chance someone who knows about the tracking device could look at them and divine my reason for having them. If so, there is nothing I can do about it now.
Almost everything seems as I remember seeing it when I left this morning. The only changes I have spotted are a desk chair out of place and the wardrobe pushed several inches away from the wall. I slide the chair back to its place under the desk and walk to the wardrobe. The large wooden case is heavy and hard to shift on the carpeted floor. I’m amazed the officials went to the trouble of moving it, since I can’t imagine what they could hope to find in the space between it and the wall. I slide one hand behind the wardrobe to see if there is any way to get a better grip on the wood and feel something cool and metallic. I pull my hand back and peer behind the wardrobe to see what it is that I touched. The object is small, round, and silver. The same listening device I discovered in my Testing identification bracelet.
I think of the conversations I had before I went to meet with the president. Was this device placed here during the search by Professor Holt and her officials today, or has it been here longer? I searched this room when it was first assigned to me and have repeated the procedure at least twice a week to make sure no one has found a way to watch my actions when I think I am alone. But the last search I conducted was days ago. Before my conversation with Raffe. Before speaking to Zeen. If this device was put in place before I spoke to either of them, then someone knows that I am responsible for Damone’s disappearance and that I’m aware of the rebels and their purpose. They will also know that my brother is now among them and is working from the inside to put a stop to their mission.
It is only Michal’s insistence that Zeen use a different name that keeps me from grabbing the Transit Communicator in an attempt to warn him. While we share my father’s eyes and my mother’s bone structure, that is where our resemblance ends. Zeen is tall and blond. No one will see him and think of me. If anyone has listened to my conversation with Zeen, they will never know to look for a boy named Cris. Eventually, they’ll ask enough questions and put together a list of all the recruits Michal brought to the camp, but that will take time.
Now that I have found the listening device, I search the room again. Every inch of the wall. The bathroom tiles. I upend the small sofa, round table, and chairs in the sitting room. Examine the seams of each of the cushions on the furniture to make sure none have been opened and a camera or listening device inserted. The device behind the wardrobe is the only one. I walk back to look at it. When I discovered the recorder in my Testing bracelet, my only thought was to avoid letting those who listened hear my secrets. Then the information the listeners received was only a danger if I crossed the finish line and passed the fourth test. Now whoever is listening is not just an observer, but an active participant—just as we candidates were. While I do not like knowing the recording is capturing every sound I make, I recognize the opportunity to create misdirection. Of course, while I believe Professor Holt is behind this device, I am not certain that is the case. If it was here for longer, it might have been planted by the rebel students, Griffin, or fellow classmates who are just looking for a way to get ahead. Creating misdirection will be difficult unless I determine my audience. Until I do, I will leave the device in place.
After several more tries, I shove the wardrobe back. Then trying not to feel self-conscious, I put my bag on the ground, sit next to it, and pull out the list. With Symon and Dr. Barnes waiting to spring their trap, I doubt President Collindar will be able to delay making her proposal on the Debate Chamber floor for much longer than the seven days she promised. In that time, I have to assemble a group of true rebels, formulate a plan, and execute twelve leaders of the United Commonwealth. The enormity of the task threatens to overwhelm me, but I don’t have time for doubt.
Tomas has agreed to help. If I haven’t misjudged her, Stacia will join the cause after our class tomorrow. While part of me considers creating a test for her, what I learned during The Testing has given me enough insight into her character.
Those two are smarter than any others I know, but no matter their resourcefulness, there are still too many targets for three of us to handle. Four if I count Zeen, although I’m uncertain how much help he can offer while entrenched in the rebel camp. Still, I write his name on the paper next to Tomas’s and Stacia’s. Then I consider the others.
Dr. Barnes has the resources of the entire United Commonwealth and years of trial and error to create his examinations. I have Tomas, Stacia, my instincts, and only a few days. The question of what litmus test to use on my peers is a difficult one. Clearly, I must present them with an opportunity that puts a crossroads before them. An opportunity to make a choice that shows not only whether they wish to stop The Testing but also whether they are willing to believe that violent action is necessary to obtain that goal.
Easier said than done.
I consider various scenarios, but none seems appropriate for all. And I realize that this is t
he problem. In contrast to the early stages of The Testing, everyone cannot now be given the same test. Each classmate has a different outlook on life and a different goal for his or her time here at the University. Yes, they all want to be leaders, but none has the same reason behind it.
Raffe is here because of his family connections. That history should tie him tightly to Dr. Barnes, but it doesn’t appear to. Raffe doesn’t act as though it is his birthright to be one of our country’s future leaders. He’s hiding secrets. As is Ian. I believe Ian wants The Testing to end. We are both colony students who have faced many of the same challenges to get to this place. That alone should be enough to put us on the same side. But I’m uncertain whether he is a member of the rebellion, and if so, how loyal he is to Symon. If he believes Symon is truly working to end The Testing, Ian will not want me interfering in the rebels plans. He will do whatever it takes to stop me. Even if we have the same agenda, it is unclear how Ian would react if I were to tell him what I know.
Enzo is another mystery. He has his own share of secrets. After what he shared with me outside the residence, I believe his father and brothers are among Symon’s or Ranetta’s numbers. If they are part of Ranetta’s faction, he might be able to get word to them about Symon’s treachery. If Zeen and Enzo’s family members both met with Ranetta, they might be able to encourage her to work independently of Symon and to remove the targets on the president’s list without Dr. Barnes being alerted to the attack. However, if his family is working with Symon’s group, then Enzo may not believe what I have to say. As potential members of the rebellion, Ian and Enzo could be my staunch allies or my ardent opponents.
Raffe, Ian, and Enzo. I need to test all three. But what challenge should I give each of them? And while I do not want to ask myself this, I have to wonder, if they do not pass, what the punishment for failure should be.
My eyes grow as heavy as my heart. Though I want to keep working, I know my mind will function better if I rest. Besides, who knows how much sleep I will get in the days to come.