Graduation Day

by Joelle Charbonneau

  Just past the stadium I see it. Five stories tall and almost hidden in the darkness because of its black steel and black glass exterior. The fence that surrounds the area around it also blends into the night, but I know it is there along with the small bronze sign that announces the purpose of the work that takes place inside.

  The Testing Center.

  The last time I was inside that building, Dr. Barnes announced that the twenty of us seated in the room with him had been accepted to the University. Tomas and I were together. Without my memories of The Testing I had just passed through, I was happy.

  I spot a figure standing in the shadows near the front of the building and go still. Without getting closer I can’t determine whether the man is one of the rebel students or a Safety official. But all the activity to the south has not pulled his attention, so I know he will not be drawn away easily. I will have to find a way around him or another way inside.

  A back door or windows on the main floor would allow me to enter without being seen. I don’t recall the presence of either, but I circle around to the back of the building to check. The black fence that surrounds the building grounds is only chest high and easy to scale. Once on the other side, I confirm what I hoped was not true. The guarded entrance is the only way inside.

  As silently as possible, I cross the area behind The Testing Center. The upper-story windows are darkened, making it impossible to know if Dr. Barnes is inside. Have I ever seen light coming from the windows here? I don’t think so. The only time I remember being outside this building during The Testing was in the daytime, when we were waiting for the results of the first test and they allowed us to go outside. Zandri, Malachi, Tomas, and I sat near a small pond. As I approach that spot now, I remember how Zandri’s hair caught the sunlight and the way she made Malachi laugh. Last year the fountain in the middle of the pond was broken. To pass the time, Tomas and I worked together to repair it. The fountain is currently turned off, and I wonder if there’s a way to use it to create a diversion.

  The gunfire has stopped, but the siren still sounds as I find the power box nestled discreetly in a pile of rocks. As I did months ago, I remove the cover with the screwdriver attachment of my pocketknife, and this time use my flashlight to view the contents. Everything looks as it did when Tomas and I fixed the fountain last summer, and I think I should be able to make the motor whine and grind enough to attract the guard’s notice.

  It takes several tries to make the adjustments to the motor, wrap long pieces of grass around the impeller blade, and block the water-return pump in a way that will cause the now-hindered motor to be even more overworked. The combination should tax the machinery to produce rumbling and a high-pitched whine. Or the motor might overheat and stop working altogether. There’s only one way to find out which.

  After taking a deep breath, I get ready to run and hit the power switch. The water gurgles in the fountain as I dash toward the building. The sound of the grinding motor begins as I edge my way along the back of the building toward the north side. The motor lets out a screech loud enough to be heard over the siren. It only lasts for a few seconds before the damage I did causes the motor to give out with a loud bang.

  Was the noise enough?

  Yes! I hear footsteps and duck around the corner of the building as whoever was in the front now looks for the source of the sound. Hoping to get inside before he returns, I race to the entrance, but I start to panic as I see the small keypad next to the door. I remember Michal using a code with six numbers to gain us entry, but I didn’t see what they were. Even if I had, I doubt they have remained the same. I turn away from the pad and focus my attention on the lock above the door handle, hoping I can jimmy it before the guard returns.

  The sound of running feet and the voice yelling for me to stop tell me I’m too late. I do the only thing I can. I turn, aim at the Safety official as he raises his weapon, and fire.

  I meant to hit the man’s leg. Instead, my bullet punches into his stomach. His weapon goes off as he hits the ground, and I press against the door behind me and feel it give way. The lock wasn’t engaged. The man behind me groans in pain. I want to help him, but I tamp down that instinct and step through the doorway. Between the unlocked door and the man I shot lying on the ground outside, someone will soon discover I am here. I have to find Dr. Barnes, fast.

  Clicking my flashlight, I shine it around the building’s entrance. Everything in the lobby is as I remember it. White walls. Scuffed gray floor. Gray wooden chairs in the corner. The Testing storage room and personal preparation rooms are on this floor. I will not find Dr. Barnes in those. If he is in this building, he will be on one of the upper floors. I run down the long white and gray hallway to the bank of elevators we rode during The Testing to reach the upper four floors.

  But I don’t want to be trapped inside an elevator if someone discovers that I am here. So I walk past them, down the hall, looking for stairs.

  I find them at the end of the corridor and begin to climb. The building is large. The task of finding someone in this place is daunting. When I reach the second floor, I step out into the hallway and shine my light down the corridor. I could search floor by floor, and I will if I have to. But for now I follow my instincts, turn back to the stairs, and climb to the third floor. It was on this floor that Dr. Barnes spoke to us about each phase of The Testing and gave us each set of instructions. This level was also the location of our interviews. It was during mine that I learned Tomas was responsible for Zandri’s death, although Dr. Barnes refused to tell me how. When I step out of the stairwell into a dimly lit hallway, I am certain that Dr. Barnes is near.

  Sliding the flashlight into my bag, I pull out my gun and walk toward the lecture hall. Blood pounds in my ears as I approach the large double doors that lead to the room where I began and ended my Testing. When I take hold of one of the door handles, I feel the same anxiety and fear I did when I entered this room for the first time months ago. Inside, the stage is dark. In the shadows I see the same podium Dr. Barnes spoke behind standing at the center. The tiered seats are empty, but if I close my eyes I can see the faces of those who died. If Dr. Barnes has his way, this room will soon be filled with more candidates ready to be tested. Knowing that steadies the gun in my hand as I turn and walk to the very end of the lecture hall toward the room where I was interviewed. I see a thin slice of light under the door.

  I put my hand on the knob. In my mind I list the names of the candidates who walked through the doors of this building. Those names give me courage as I slowly turn the knob, push open the door, and step inside.

  Seated at a black table near the back windowless wall with a pen in his hand is Dr. Barnes. I wrap both hands around the butt of the gun, plant my feet firmly on the floor, and prepare to fire as Dr. Barnes looks up from the table and smiles.

  “Good evening, Cia,” he says. “We’ve been expecting you.”

  Before I can wonder who “we” is, I hear a click and feel the cold metal of a gun barrel as it is pressed against my head. And I know I have failed.

  Chapter 19

  A HAND REACHES out and wrests the gun from my hand. Another person grabs the bag off my shoulder and laughs. I know that laugh. Turning, I see a sneer spread across Griffin’s face as he drops my bag to the ground.

  “You might want to be careful with that.” Dr. Barnes rises from behind the table and crosses toward me. “Ms. Vale may have one or two more tricks up her sleeve.” He reaches out and takes my gun from a third-year Government Studies student I have never spoken to. “Thank you for your assistance. Now, if you don’t mind waiting outside, Ms. Vale and I have matters to discuss. You’ll both be rewarded once our conversation is complete.”

  Annoyance flickers across Griffin’s face as he stalks toward the door. The other boy follows. When the door clicks shut, Dr. Barnes picks my bag off the floor, walks back to his chair, and places the bag on the table. “Please, have a seat. I know you haven’t gotten a lot of rest in recent weeks. Y
ou’ve been quite busy, Cia. So busy, in fact, I was concerned something might happen to you before you had a chance to meet me tonight. That would have been a shame, since there’s much to discuss.”

  He motions for me to sit in the black chair that is situated across from him at the table. The smile Dr. Barnes wears is familiar. It is filled with warmth and concern and is designed to elicit trust. His expression turns puzzled when I do not take a seat. “You did come here to talk to me, didn’t you, Cia?”

  “I came here to kill you.”

  “Of course you did.” His smile widens as he sets my gun down on the table in front of him. “And I intend to let you. Of course,” he adds, “you will still have to deal with the individuals outside if you succeed. I apologize for that, but I couldn’t take the chance of you killing me before we had this conversation.”

  “You’re going to let me kill you?” Confusion, nerves, and fear make me laugh, although nothing has ever seemed less funny.

  Dr. Barnes leans back in his chair. “You don’t believe me, Cia?”

  “No.”

  Now he laughs. “I suppose I don’t blame you, although do you really think you’d be standing here right now if I didn’t intend for you to complete your agenda? You’ve come a long way since first stepping into this building, but there’s still much for you to learn.”

  I think of the lock that was disengaged downstairs, the lack of dishes and clothes at Dr. Barnes’s house, the papers and files in plain sight in his study, the explosion that burned his house, and the ease with which I crossed campus despite all the fighting going on. Even the guard outside who had the chance to fire at me before I shot him. While the plan that I embarked on was well thought out, I could not have made it this far without some kind of help. Help Dr. Barnes is now claiming he provided. Why?

  “You’re right,” I say, shifting my gaze to the gun. While this room is small, the gun is too far away to reach before Dr. Barnes does. I’m not sure if Dr. Barnes’s nod of approval is for my decision not to take that risk or for my understanding of the help I have received. And it doesn’t matter, because he’s correct. We have to talk. I need answers that only he can provide. Once I have those, I will find a way to get the gun, because I do not believe for a moment that Dr. Barnes intends to die.

  Crossing to the black high-backed chair, I take a seat. “I do have more to learn, Dr. Barnes. But somehow I doubt you and Professor Holt will allow me to return to class after everything that has happened.”

  “Professor Holt would certainly stand in your way. She’s been suspicious of your abilities since you first arrived for The Testing. She was especially unhappy when you were passed through to the University despite her objections. She never understood how you received enough votes.” He gives me a pleased smile. “However, due to tonight’s activities, Verna is no longer a consideration. Neither is MayLin Chen. So they won’t be around to complain if you decide to continue your education. Then again, after everything you’ve been through, you may wish to leave Tosu City and return to Five Lakes. If so, I’m certain your family will be happy to see you.”

  Hearing Dr. Barnes mention my family makes it hard to breathe, but I keep my emotions off my face. I will not give him the satisfaction of knowing that his verbal jab connected. Keeping my tone flat, I say, “You went to a lot of trouble to arrange this meeting. I doubt it was because you want to talk to me about whether or not I’d like to go back to my colony.”

  “You don’t believe I’d allow you to return home?” He leans forward and rests his hands next to the gun.

  “No.” I cannot take my eyes away from his fingers as they brush the butt. “I don’t believe you.”

  “I have no reason to lie,” he says, wrapping his hand around the wooden handle. “Of course, I don’t expect you to take my word on that.”

  Gun in hand, he rises and crosses the room to a small bench I failed to notice before. On the bench is a tray. Atop that tray is a glass filled with clear liquid. Dr. Barnes takes the glass with his free hand, walks over to the table, and places the glass in front of me. “That’s why I provided us with a drink you might remember from the last time we were in this room.”

  As Dr. Barnes walks back to the other side of the table, I pick up the glass and study its contents. There is nothing to distinguish it from water. Not the look or the smell. It appears innocuous. But it could be the same liquid as the one I was required to consume during my interview, and I know looks are deceiving. Even after taking a serum that was designed to counteract the effects of the interview drug, I still felt a sense of euphoria once I drank it and the desire to tell those who questioned me everything they wanted to know. Thankfully, the serum allowed me to think before I answered and to control my responses. I do not have the benefit of that serum now.

  “I’m not going to drink this.” I set the glass down on the table.

  “And I’m not going to insist that you do. The drink is for me,” he says. “I’m just offering you the opportunity in case you doubt my claim about what’s in the glass.”

  I’m confused. Is what he has to tell me so important that he would willingly consume the truth drug he once forced me to take? The one that, with Symon’s help, I beat. “How do I know you haven’t taken the serum that negates it?” I ask.

  “You don’t.” Dr. Barnes leans back in his chair and nods. “You are always one to trust your instincts. What do you think?”

  I don’t know what to think. This is another test—perhaps the last one I will ever face—and I’m not sure of the correct answer. None of what has happened tonight makes sense. Not the unlocked door, Dr. Barnes’s booby-trapped house, or his claim that he wants me to kill him. For these things to be true, Dr. Barnes must have always known what I’ve been doing. Nothing I’ve done has been in secret. But there have been no cameras. I disabled the tracking device in my bracelet. He couldn’t have planted something in my clothes because I have not always worn the same . . .

  My eyes fall on the University bag that sits on the far edge of the table. I’ve rarely been without it since it was given to me after The Testing. The bag is constructed with strong material to prevent it from ripping. The bottom, especially, is thick to ensure the bag can hold all the books we have to carry around campus. At least that’s what I assumed. A bag. Like every other bag. Without memory of The Testing, I had no reason to question it when it was given to me. And once I did remember, I never gave it a second thought.

  I put the glass back on the table and lean back in my seat. “Was The Testing bag designed to monitor our movements, too?”

  “I’m impressed, my dear. You’re correct about this bag containing a device that allows me to better understand your daily activities, but the satchel you carried during The Testing did not. My staff believed the recorders in the bracelets were sufficient to obtain the information we needed. You proved them wrong then as you have here at the University. Just as I hoped you would.”

  “You hoped?”

  Dr. Barnes reaches across the table, picks up the glass, and toasts me with it. He swallows some of the liquid and frowns as he sets the half-empty glass back on the table. “I forgot how unpleasant that taste is. It was something we always meant to fix but never got around to. Not a surprise, I suppose, since no one who drinks it remembers the bitter flavor once The Testing is over. Ah, well, perhaps now you will allow me to explain in my own way.”

  He places his hands on the table and begins to speak. “When the United Commonwealth was formed, it was decided that a different selection method would be necessary to ensure our country did not fall victim to the mistakes of the leaders in our past. For a while that selection was easy, since the boundaries of our country did not extend beyond the city. It was a simple matter for officials to observe those who naturally assumed leadership roles in the work they’d been assigned. However, after the first colonies were established and our population grew, there were problems. Leaders struggled to be decisive when faced with difficult decisions l
ike power distribution. Fights broke out in parts of the city where power allocation was at its lowest. To stave off frustration and violence, two new colonies were established and tens of thousands of people sent out of the city to revitalize areas far to the east. Due to rushed decisions, those areas were poorly scouted. Only a handful of those who left the city survived.”

  We studied the failed colonies in school. Those who survived talked of poisonous windstorms, vicious mutated animal attacks, and contamination in the ground that caused anything that was planted to die within days. My father always wondered how the scientists who reviewed those areas missed such deadly contamination, and believed mistakes were made. He was right. Thousands of people died because of those errors.

  “Those who returned shared their story. They questioned the current leadership. The civil war that loomed would have torn apart the city and the country. To prevent that, a compromise was reached between the current leaders and those who opposed them, ensuring that new leadership would not commit the same mistakes. The University, under my grandfather’s guidance, was charged with selecting students with the qualities necessary to lead and with preparing them for the positions they would hold. A year after that change was made, The Testing was established.”

  Gun in hand, Dr. Barnes stands and walks the length of the room. “It’s hard to determine what makes a good leader and to test for those qualities. For the next ten years, The Testing was comprised of written and hands-on challenges meant to determine whether a candidate had the knowledge required to help lead the revitalization mission. Those who attended the University were the brightest and most promising minds our country had to offer. And yet, many of them faltered when it was their turn to lead. After all, no matter how intelligent and skilled a person is, it is impossible to know how a person will behave in a certain situation until they are faced with it. So my grandfather created two versions of The Testing as an experiment. One for colony students and the other for those from Tosu City.”