by Dylan Steel
“I heard that you said you don’t like it here.”
Had Penelope told on her? Her mind raced, trying to understand why she would have lied about keeping a secret, and then she remembered the shadow on the ground—someone had been listening to their conversation. Pippa.
“No,” Sage protested desperately. “Someone’s lying.”
“I don’t think so, Sage. I think you’re the one lying,” Ms. Pembergast looked down her nose. “I have to say, I’m very disappointed. I thought you were doing so well.”
Sage felt her face flush. She couldn’t think of an excuse quickly enough, and before she knew it, she felt the back of her arm being pinched. She was being led down the hallway.
“I think some more time in a Cleansing will help you realize how wonderful it is to live in Eprah and to be at the Institution,” Ms. Pembergast said curtly, stopping at a familiar door.
“No, no, please,” Sage pleaded. “I’ll be good! I won’t say anything bad about Eprah. It’s great here! I love it!” Her lip quivered.
Ms. Pembergast held up her hand to stop her. “No, Sage, that’s not what I want. I only want what’s best for you and for Eprah. And right now, this is what’s best.” She opened the door and jerked Sage inside.
Sage turned and looked at the doorway where Ms. Pembergast stood between her and her freedom.
“I do love Eprah,” Sage said weakly.
Ms. Pembergast shook her head. “I’ll see you again when you believe that, Sage.”
She closed the door to the too-familiar small room. Sage stared at where her instructor had just been standing.
She was alone again.
6. THE CLEANSING
Sage spent the first two weeks of her second Cleansing being mad at Pippa for telling on her. By the third week, she had moved on to Ms. Pembergast for locking her in the room, and by the fourth, her parents for leaving her.
She could only guess how long she was kept in darkness this time. She had spent a long time being hungry, but eventually, she started getting meals delivered at regular intervals—she guessed it was three times a day.
The lights stayed off for what felt like two weeks. When they finally flicked on, Sage buried her face in her pillow and cried. The brightness was almost too much, and she was blinking constantly even without the tears.
Ms. Pembergast’s younger recording didn’t show up for a month. The only reason Sage knew that was because she announced that the preliminary exams would be held in a week and that Sage should study hard. She didn’t know which day had been her birthday. A databook was dropped off in her bin so that she could work on catching up.
Largely, though, she was left alone.
Sage developed a sort of routine to pass the time even before she was given a databook. Even though no one else was there, she had a strange feeling she was being watched, so she was careful what she said out loud. Besides, if Ms. Pembergast were listening, she wanted to convince her that she was a model citizen.
She thanked Eprah before each meal. She recited the pledge. She practiced counting by twos, threes, and tens and then moved on to multiplication. She recited her first history presentation every day after lunch. She made up stories about the Original Five and their conquests of the ancient civilizations. She never mentioned her parents.
Once she received her databook and news of the upcoming practice exam, she spent every morning and afternoon studying, trying to catch up on what she’d missed in classes.
She began to understand why her classmate was now so devoted to Eprah and why she had turned her in. Sage knew she had to do everything in her power to keep herself out of another Cleansing if this one ever ended.
The day of the exam finally arrived. Sage had hoped that she would be allowed to test with her classmates, but Ms. Pembergast’s projection showed up in her room that morning instead.
“It’s time for the preliminary exam, Sage,” Ms. Pembergast announced. “Take out your databook. There you go. You should see a new file labeled ‘Preliminary Exam.’ Yes, that one.”
Sage opened the file, and a timer started counting down in the upper right corner of the screen. Three hours, fifty-nine minutes, fifty-nine seconds. Fifty-eight seconds.
“Alright, you should be all set. Get done as much as you can before the time counts down. Part two will load after lunch.”
Ms. Pembergast disappeared.
Sage looked down at the screen. Math was the first section—not her strong suit. She bit her lip and began working through the problems. Some of the questions had symbols she’d never seen before, and she still struggled with simple division.
Reading comprehension followed, which led in to science and charts and graphs and questions on interpreting more things she’d never heard of. She grew queasy. They might never let her leave if she did poorly on the test.
She was almost relieved when the timer finished counting down to zero. She’d left a good number of questions unanswered, but at least the first part was over.
Lunch was less appetizing than normal, which made it especially difficult for Sage to eat since her stomach refused to settle down. Ms. Pembergast reappeared briefly to announce the start of part two, and Sage was again left to work until the timer counted down.
This half of the exam had questions on Eprah’s history and an essay portion on government and its policies. One essay simply said, “Write the Pledge of Eprah.” Sage felt herself growing excited over how much better she seemed to be doing on this part of the exam, but she was still uncertain of some of her answers, and she was less than truthful with most of her responses.
She finished the section with two minutes to spare. She let out a sigh of relief, and her mind wandered back over the questions. Clearly, they wanted to know what she thought of this place she was living in. Not just if she liked the Institution, but if she agreed with the whole government. This time, she wouldn’t give them a reason to question her loyalty. Never again.
“Alright, Sage, that’s all for today,” Ms. Pembergast said, suddenly materializing. “You’ll have your results tomorrow, and we’ll go from there.” She disappeared just as abruptly as she appeared.
Sage spent the evening alone again, walking in circles, replaying the answers she’d given. When the lights flipped off, she paced the room a few more times before climbing into bed. She had become quite familiar with the dark, and she now stepped instinctively without having to feel her way.
When she woke up the next morning, she hurried through her morning routine. She scarfed down the rehydrated berries and slurped the eggs, making sure to thank Eprah. She threw the tray in the bin and shuffled impatiently as she waited for Ms. Pembergast.
“Good morning, Ms. Pembergast,” Sage said as soon as her instructor appeared.
“Good morning, Sage,” Ms. Pembergast smiled.
Sage forced herself to return the smile but said nothing.
“Well, Sage, your results are in,” she began. “It appears you have a lot of work to do if you want to pass the year-end exam.”
Sage’s face fell. “Oh.”
“Your scores in math and science are much lower than the rest of your grade level,” she continued. “You’ll need to get those up significantly by the end of the year. It’s really not that surprising considering your whole situation.”
Sage nodded. She knew had started out the year behind, and all her time in the Cleansing hadn’t helped her catch up. Ms. Pembergast continued detailing the subjects and concepts that Sage would have to master in order to score appropriately on the year-end exam.
“But overall, I’m happy with your progress.”
“Really?” Sage asked hopefully.
“Yes,” Ms. Pembergast hesitated. “I was particularly pleased with some of your essay answers.”
Sage tilted her head.
“You mentioned that parents should prioritize the education of their children for the sake of Eprah’s overall well-being. Do you feel your parents did you a disservice by keep
ing you from the Institution?”
“Yeah,” she said. She had been expecting this conversation. “It’s unfair to me and Eprah that I couldn’t study more and score higher.”
“I see.” Ms. Pembergast seemed to agree completely. “And do you think you will be able to contribute better to Eprah by being part of the Institution?”
“Absolutely.” Sage felt her stomach turning in anticipation. Had she done enough?
Ms. Pembergast smiled broadly. “How would you feel about rejoining your class?”
Her heart leapt, but she paused thoughtfully for a moment before answering.
“If that’s what Eprah thinks is best, then I’d really like to.”
“I think you may finally be ready,” she said, bobbing her head.
Ms. Pembergast’s smile faded as she added, “But trust me when I say that you would severely regret having to return for another Cleansing.”
7. FOUNDERS’ DAY
Sage returned to classes at the same time the snow was falling in Eprah. The play yard was blanketed in a fresh white canvas each morning, and the students turned it to slush by the afternoon.
All her classmates had been a bit stand-offish at first. They seemed afraid they would catch her former Lawless tendencies like a virus, and no one wanted to go through another Cleansing. Ironically, Pippa was the only one who seemed unconcerned—perhaps because she felt her own immunization had been so effective that the two now shared a common strength and love for Eprah that was unmatched by the others. After a few days though, Sage settled back into routine, and for the most part, everyone seemed to forget her absence.
Besides, everyone was still buzzing about the practice exams. Apparently, Sage wasn’t the only one to do poorly on several sections. Ms. Pembergast had thoroughly expressed her disapproval in the overall results, and the whole class was constantly doing drills to catch up to the expected grade level. The evenings were now spent largely in silence as everyone hunkered down to study.
Aura and Pippa were quizzing each other on significant dates in history when Ms. Pembergast’s projection appeared in the girls’ room.
“Good evening, ladies.”
“Good evening, Ms. Pembergast,” came the uniform reply.
“As you know, Founders’ Day is coming up, and you’ll all be expected to play a role in making it a truly amazing day,” she continued.
Carnabel started to protest—her scores had been some of the lowest in the class, and she knew she needed time to study. Ms. Pembergast shot her a look that cut her short.
“I know there hasn’t been much time to prepare with all of your extra studying lately, but not to worry, it’s a rather small part, and most of your time will be spent enjoying the festivities. The details can be found as a new file in your databooks. As we won’t have much time to go over this in class, I expect you to practice together in the evenings. You’ll have a chance to practice together in class later this week.
“Your contribution matters. Remember to make Eprah proud!” she added and then vanished.
The girls looked at one another for a moment before thumbing furiously through their databooks.
“Aw, man! I don’t have a speaking part!” Marnie lamented.
“I do!” Pippa puffed out her chest.
“I’d trade with you, Marnie, but I think we’d get in trouble,” Aura said kindly.
Sage said nothing at first. She had a speaking part too.
***
When Founders’ Day arrived, Sage knew her part forward and backward. None of them had very big parts, but they had all practiced hard to make Eprah proud.
Ms. Pembergast showed up at their door to escort them to the celebration, boys already in tow. She hadn’t told them many details about the day, so when they walked down the hallways and out the front door, Sage just assumed they were presenting on the empty side of the yard.
To her surprise, they continued straight down the path that divided the two sides of the yard and headed straight toward the gate. It seemed that the whole school was gathered there. Only once they reached it did she realize that the gate was actually open and that all the students were streaming out through it.
Her eyes grew large, and she turned to see if anyone else was surprised. Carnabel looked almost panicked, but Aura and Finkel radiated giddiness. Everett seemed to be his usual sullen self. Sage couldn’t see the others’ faces as they were in front of her, but she didn’t get the impression that anyone realized they were leaving The Institution today.
“Keep up, children,” Ms. Pembergast called behind her. “Not you, Aura—slow down and stay with the group,” she scolded the eager girl.
Carnabel picked up her pace, and Everett shuffled along a little faster.
Sage whispered to Aura, “Did you know we were leaving?”
Aura shook her head. “No, but it makes sense. The Grand Hall is the only place that could hold the whole school and lots of citizens. I remember now—my parents took me to Founders’ Day last year, but I didn’t know what it was then. I had to sit next to a really wrinkly man who smelled like cheese.”
Sage crinkled her brow. “Citizens?”
“Yeah. All of Eprah comes to this!” she said enthusiastically.
A pit formed in Sage’s stomach. “All of Eprah?”
“Mmhmm,” Aura said distractedly, looking up at the buildings. She squealed as they rounded the corner. “There it is! See?”
Sage looked up ahead and saw a building with an entire block to itself. The towering hall had no windows, just intricate relief carvings of people and mythical creatures on a sterile whitewashed stone surface. An uncharacteristically large expanse of street surrounded it, leaving ample room for the large crowd that had started to form on all sides of the building.
The crowd parted for the students as they began streaming into the building. All the adults stood stiffly near each other. Everyone seemed very careful not to bump into anyone. Sage saw one man trip and fall against a woman and then fall to the ground. Rather than helping the man up, she and everyone nearby seemed to stare down their noses and sidestep him.
She forgot all about the man as soon as she stepped through the doors. The Grand Hall was breathtaking. Its monochromatic exterior starkly contrasted with the vibrant display inside. She had thought the building had a roof from the outside, but she was less sure now. Gold birds appeared to hang in the air above them against a pale blue backdrop that matched the sky.
The passionate kiss of two larger than life lovers was forever frozen in bronze in the center of the vestibule. Rich emerald carpeting stretched below their feet, and marbled pillars flanked the room. Dark velvet curtains gave way to an immense space filled with thousands of plush black seats. At the end of the room was a tall stage covered in scarlet curtains that stretched nearly to the ceiling.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Aura whispered to Sage.
She nodded, eyes wide. She’d never seen anything so ornate.
Ms. Pembergast was beckoning them into a door near the end of the stage. They walked down a short hallway and stepped through another set of doors into a flurry of activity. All the students were running around, throwing on costumes without any sense of modesty, buzzing as they tried to recount their lines.
Sage looked around at her other classmates and saw mostly panic. Everett was staring at the floor, face red. Penelope was on the opposite side of the room and caught Sage’s eye, winking as she plopped an enormous wide-rimmed purple hat on her head, striking a pose. Sage giggled.
Ms. Pembergast gathered her small class around herself and began barking instructions.
“Girls, costumes for you are in that corner. Boys, yours are over there. Finkel, put that down! Ok, everyone, find something appropriate and meet back here in three minutes. What are you waiting for? Go, go!”
Sage felt a rush of excitement as she raced over to the costume corner and hurriedly flipped through the options. A bright red suit in her size hung on the end. She reached for it, bu
t Carnabel snatched it first and stuck out her tongue. Her hands clenched together for a moment, but she quickly turned back to the rack and picked up a short but heavy black skirt that looked like it was sewn together from cat tails. She pulled a baby blue bolero on over a white top and clipped on a small hat with black netting splaying wildly out the front before heading back to Ms. Pembergast’s post.
Their instructor glanced over all of their costume choices and sighed, muttering something about fostering creativity in youth and then shooing them into another room.
They were next to the stage now, and they could hear the auditorium filling with voices. The feathers from Marnie’s jacket were tickling Sage’s neck. She had to lean closer to hear Ms. Pembergast over the growing noise.
“Alright, class, now pay close attention! Headmaster Alexander is going to start things off on stage, and then you all are up. Everybody ready?”
“We’re first?” Nic looked pale.
“Yes, and I hope you all remember your lines. Make Eprah proud!” Ms. Pembergast chirped dismissively, scooting them to the edge of the stage. “Take your places! You’ll begin after the headmaster when the curtain opens. Any questions?”
Sage was sure she could have thought of something to ask had Ms. Pembergast not shoved them all behind the curtain and rushed offstage.
Headmaster Alexander shot them all a rehearsed smile as he walked past them and stepped in front of the curtain. Sage could hear the noise from the crowd beginning to die down as soon as he appeared onstage.
“Men and women of Eprah,” he began, his voice dampened by the curtain, “We are so pleased to be gathering to celebrate Founders’ Day—the day that the Eprah we know and love today began under the Proclamation of Worth.
“As I’m sure you know, I am Octavius Alexander, Headmaster at the Institution, and I am proud to have the privilege of introducing our students to you today. Although you will have the distinct pleasure of seeing many of our students perform, there is little more gratifying than watching some of our youngest as they begin blossoming into full-fledged citizens. Please welcome our Transitional Class to the stage.”
