by S. M. Wilson
The room was set out like an old exam hall. Single desks and chairs, hundreds of them, with Stipulators who she didn’t recognize pacing up and down between them.
She was gestured towards a seat and Dell took the one next to her. The room was already nearly full. Had some of these people been sitting here since registration began?
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a second. Peaches. That’s what she could picture in her head. That’s why she was here. The thought of them was almost painful.
She opened her eyes again quickly. When the last seat was taken an expectant hush filled the air. People stopped murmuring and shuffling in their seats. The Stipulators walked up and down the rows putting some papers face down on the desks.
Reban Don was at the front of the room. His gaze drifted around, occasionally stopping on an individual for a few seconds. It stopped on her for the briefest pause and she shifted self-consciously in her seat before he glanced away. Should she have worried about her appearance? She never had before. She was wearing what she always wore – a simple tunic. Today’s was black and, although she had a couple in different colours, she wasn’t interested in standing out. Today was about getting fed. Reban Don’s gaze made her more than a little nervous. Surely he didn’t remember her from the other day?
He was studying a list in front of him now, making little notes. Eventually he looked up and spoke to the room. “When the alarm sounds, you will turn the papers over and complete the exercise. Once you have finished, deposit your papers in the box at the front of the room. Only those who pass the exercise will be allowed to proceed to the next stage.” He glanced towards the clock on the wall. “This exercise will be time-limited.” His face broke into a sarcastic smile. “But we won’t be telling you how long you have.” He watched their shocked faces, waited a few moments for the muttering to die down.
“Begin.”
Stormchaser hadn’t moved. She didn’t look at Dell. She didn’t want to be distracted.
She turned over her papers and picked up the thin graphite.
Nothing was going to get between her and that food.
The papers folded out into a map. She’d never really seen a proper one before. She was used to schoolbooks with printed pictures of the two continents.
This map covered the whole of Piloria – the dinosaur continent – outlining rivers, mountain ranges and lakes. It was the first time she’d ever seen it like this. The schoolbooks usually just showed a dark green mass. This looked like a living, breathing piece of land, a place where it might actually be possible to survive and grow food.
She lifted the separate sheet of instructions. It was like the treasure hunts she’d heard legends about. People hunting for jewels, gold and coal, following treasure maps to find them.
All she had to do was follow the route set out, give the map co-ordinates of stopping points and use simple mathematics to plot journey times. Her logical brain could follow that.
But her rebellious brain didn’t want to.
It didn’t take a genius to work out what was happening. They were plotting routes to nesting zones. Places where they would find the dinosaur eggs and steal them.
She looked around the room. There were a number of puzzled faces. Schools didn’t teach students about maps any more. These days most people didn’t use them, they tended to stay in one zone all their lives – they had no need for maps.
But Stormchaser knew about them. She’d created her own. Except the ones she’d charted were for under the water – under the loch. She’d been diving. Trying to chart the caves. Trying to figure out where Milo nested.
Dell was smiling too. They’d done this before. When they were young children, the last few forests had still existed and the foresters had used maps and strange instruments to work out their course once they were deep within the trees. Dell’s father had been a forester. He used to make pretend maps for them and leave things in the forest for them to find. This challenge wouldn’t be a problem for Dell at all. He glanced towards her, meeting her eyes, giving a grin and rubbing his stomach.
Storm put her head back down. It only took her a few minutes to realize that following the instructions was simple enough, but not the best course of action. The plotted route had them circling lakes and forests for thousands of sectars, instead of going across or through them.
In theory, the route would take the candidates weeks.
What did it matter? It wasn’t like she would be going anyway. But she couldn’t help herself…
She started scribbling, applying herself in a way she never had at school. Letting her brain make the rapid calculations on sectars and timings, making notes at the side of the paper on slightly longer timings for more difficult terrain. She glanced at the clock, Reban Don was talking quietly to one of the other Stipulators. Some of the candidates looked as if they still hadn’t started, the one next to her was drawing pictures of dinosaurs with his fine piece of graphite.
Even after she’d completed the task, she didn’t stop. Her fingers flying over the page, her brain doing more quick-fire calculations. This time, she followed the instructions on the paper. She wrote down the exact co-ordinates and times they were looking for.
She organized both calculations side by side. Hers? Saved nearly eleven days for the total journey.
She leaned back and smiled just as a bell sounded across the room. Several candidates looked up, stricken, still frantically scribbling on their papers.
“Everyone stop now,” Reban Don’s voice echoed across the room. He pointed to a doorway. “File into the next room. Your results will be available within a few minutes.”
She frowned, wondering how that could be possible. But the room filled with people in blue jackets, lifting one or two papers each and walking off to the sides. They’d started marking papers before the candidates had even left the room.
Dell squeezed her arm. “How did you do?”
She hesitated. Should she tell him that she’d completely ignored the instructions and plotted her own route?
He smiled. “You went through the forest, didn’t you?”
She hadn’t even realized she was holding her breath. She let it out in one long, slow hiss. “You did too?”
He nodded. “Why not?”
The room was crowded, smaller than the last one. Her stomach was still churning. She stayed silent. Dell might have plotted his way through the forest, but she doubted he’d planned a route over the lochs or mountains. Best to say nothing.
Reban Don appeared at the doorway with a sheaf of papers already in his hands. “When I call your name, go to room A or B as instructed.” He started shouting names and instructions, running rapidly through the papers. Every few seconds another blue-jacketed person would hand him more and more papers.
Storm’s eyes were flickering as people moved across the room. Several people who’d been sitting near her, including the one sketching dinosaurs, were sent to room A. It seemed as if most people were being sent there.
“Room B: Stormchaser Knux, Lubin Crost, Dell Banst, Taryn Bes.”
Dell let out a stifled yelp next to her as they moved quickly towards room B. Inside, the candidates were standing around the edges of the room. It was clear to everyone that they’d passed the test. How many of the others had plotted different routes?
Storm couldn’t help but feel a little excited. It didn’t matter that she’d entered for the sole reason of getting food. There was a secret pride in being in this room.
She could feel the nervous flutter in her chest. She tried to count the people in the room without murmuring the numbers on her lips. Storm and Dell seemed like the youngest. Most seemed in their twenties or thirties, with only a few older adults. How many sessions like this would there be? Were there people in rooms all over the continent doing this test right now?
She’d only reached fifty-six when Reban appeared again. He barely even looked at the candidates. “Entrants, congratulations on passing the first test.
” He held his hands in front of his chest, kneading them over each other again and again. What did he have to be nervous about?
“We’ll be moving you all this afternoon to Camp, where you’ll all become Trialists. For the next two days you’ll undergo a host of physical and mental training exercises to determine who our best candidates will be. I wish you all well.”
His eyes seemed to skim over Storm before he bowed his head and walked out of the room.
“That’s it?” hissed Dell. “Nothing else? How about they give us some kind of clue about what we’ll be asked to do?”
Stormchaser shrugged. It was the opposite of how she was feeling. “We already know we’ll have to read maps. I guess we’ll find out the rest later. You know how it is. The Trials are always top secret. They change from year to year. No practising. No unfair advantages.” The disquiet in the room was evident, lots of whispers and wide-eyed glances.
Storm picked up her backpack as a door opened.
Dell grabbed her elbow. “Think we can beat any of these guys at the Trials?”
She took a second to steady her gaze. “I like a challenge.” She smiled as they walked forward. “Let’s find out.”
Lincoln watched as people filed off the transport wagons – solar-powered bland grey vehicles that could move around eighty people at a time. These were his fellow Trialists. There must be around five hundred people already.
He was sitting in the dust outside one of the makeshift cabins, filled with low-slung camp beds and lockable showers. He only had to get through two days here. Two days, one night and then the final selection would be made.
He was trying not to make any calculations in his head about how many more days it would take to reach Piloria, find and collect the eggs and get back. If he thought too much about the timing, he might worry that Arta wouldn’t hold out long enough.
The fact he might not qualify hadn’t even entered his mind.
He had an advantage. He knew exactly what the Trials would be. He’d practised map reading, albeit with no instruction. He’d scaled the cliff wall and dived to the bottom of the ocean. He’d lifted rocks from the nearby quarry.
It didn’t matter that he’d sacrificed his cornup allocation for three days in return for that crumpled piece of paper. It didn’t matter that some people would think he had cheated. He needed to pass these Trials. He’d needed the chance to prepare.
Saving his sister’s life meant everything. She’d get access to health care – something that was impossible right now. He had to believe the scientists knew more about the plague than they said. He had to believe they knew a cure.
He was scanning now. Watching the crowd. Trying to pick some potential allies out of the mob. He needed an allegiance. He needed someone to watch his back. To ensure that he made it to the sites and collected the eggs. He wasn’t foolish enough to think he could do this entirely on his own.
He caught his breath as a young girl in a black tunic jumped from the transporter. He’d seen her before. Watched her diving in the lake with the plesiosaurs. He’d timed her. She could hold her breath longer than anyone he’d ever known.
He watched her walk, her stance. Her eyes moving constantly, surveying all those around her. Her feet were planted firmly on the ground, as if ready for an attack at a moment’s notice. Her arms were toned and suntanned. She obviously did manual work. Under normal circumstances he’d assume that meant she couldn’t use her brain. But the evidence was there – the very fact she was in front of him meant she’d passed the written exam.
Her shiny brown hair swung around as she turned to speak to her friend. Who was he? Small, slim-built with no real muscle. He didn’t look old enough to be here. Minimum age was fifteen. He must be at least that old. He frowned. The friend could be a problem. If she already had an ally, she wouldn’t be looking for another.
But she had potential.
That was five so far. One older man, two men who looked in their thirties, one female in her twenties and finally, the girl from the loch.
Lincoln tried to still his thoughts. He’d already made notes on the other four potential allies. The older man looked strong enough to fight off a tyrannosaurus with his bare hands – even though that was impossible. At the end of the day, as long as Lincoln could outrun him, nothing else really mattered.
But the older man seemed to be scanning the crowd too. Watching carefully. Lincoln could almost see him dismiss certain individuals with one glance. He walked over to a few and introduced himself loudly. Galen. Even the way he said hello had an air of menace about it. After a couple of sentences with one person, he’d move onto the next, leaving a waft of intimidation behind. His stocky build could be deceiving. He looked like a wall of solid muscle. But what if he also had agility? He might be a potential ally but he could also be Lincoln’s biggest threat.
He watched as Galen’s eyes fell on the girl and narrowed. What did he think of her? Galen took a few steps forward, then slowed, as if he’d had second thoughts. His gaze turned on Lincoln.
Every tiny hair on Lincoln’s neck stood on end. He could almost feel the surge of adrenaline. Fight or flight. This guy really wasn’t having a good effect on his senses.
There was a sneer on Galen’s face as he walked towards Lincoln. “Taking notes, are you? Well, from the look of you, you’ll need them.” He laughed and shook his head. “Just as well you won’t make it to Piloria. You’d be the dinosaurs’ first meal.” He barged past, shouldering Lincoln as if he expected him to fall to the floor. But Lincoln’s feet were steady, he held his ground.
Lincoln smiled and crossed Galen off his list of potential allies. Piloria wouldn’t just be about brawn. It would be about brains too. And his brain was telling him to avoid Galen at all costs.
It didn’t matter. There were others. Like the girl.
Lincoln looked up at her again. She was laughing with her friend and his gut twisted. Why was that? He pushed the notebook back into his pocket. He didn’t like that he was drawn to her more than the others.
Arta was his priority here. Nothing else could get in the way.
Nothing and no one.
It was the most food she’d eaten in years. Food that actually was food. That actually tasted of something, with an aroma that danced around her nose, taunting her, reminding her that she’d probably never eat anything like this again.
The meat and gravy slid down her throat, followed rapidly by the sweet pink fruit. It didn’t matter that she didn’t know what it was called. She just wanted to eat as much as she could.
“Are you having seconds?”
A leg slid around the stool next to her, then there was a bump on the table as he set his plate next to hers. She tore her eyes away from her food.
Dell had been put into a separate group for now and this boy was the only other person in the room anywhere near her age. “Where were you at registration?” The words were out before she could think. She would have noticed him.
His tall lanky frame brought an immediate thought to mind. Running. He would be good at running. Her eyes moved along his slim forearms as he leaned on the table next to her. His triceps were deceptively muscular. Strong. He would be good at climbing too. Maybe this guy was in with a chance. She might actually have just met someone who would be a Finalist.
He shrugged. “Registration was a mess. I’d be surprised if you’d noticed anyone.”
She lifted her eyes and took a sharp breath. Did that mean he had noticed her?
“How did you find the test?”
He gave a flicker of a frown then shot her a smile. “Well, I obviously aced it or I wouldn’t be here.”
Something didn’t seem quite right. She kept going. “Which route did you pick on the map test?”
He hesitated. It was only for a second. “Across the marsh.”
Now Storm frowned. “The marsh? I don’t remember that.” She played with the food on her plate. She needed a bit of a breather. She wasn’t used to eating so much. �
��Didn’t everyone get the same test?”
He shrugged. “I guess there could have been different versions.” He looked down as her brain sparked.
Scruffy blond hair tucked behind his ears, an angular jaw and bright green eyes.
Poster boy. That’s what he was.
She smiled and let out her breath. He was no real competition. He’d been picked to be the poster boy. They probably wouldn’t even let him off the boat at the other side.
Why would she care anyway? It wasn’t like she was actually going to get on the boat herself, was it?
He was a plant. That’s why she hadn’t seen him at registration.
This happened every year. The expedition needed a pretty boy and girl for their propaganda posters. Smiling, handsome people who made the expedition look hopeful and could stand next to the Stipulators and pretend it wasn’t as dangerous as everyone knew it was.
She watched as he leaned over his plate and started shovelling the enormous mound of food into his mouth. She raised her eyebrows. “You’re certainly not wasting any time, are you?”
He shook his head as he continued to eat, his fork moving back and forth between his mouth and the plate in never-ending motion. A cheeky grin spread across his face. He gestured towards her plate. “You finished?”
She nodded. There were only a few meagre spoonfuls left. She honestly thought she would be sick if she ate any more. He didn’t seem to have the same problem. He scooped up what was left and finished quickly.
He held his hand across the table. “Lincoln Kreft. Who are you?”
She hesitated. The plant was more than a little friendly. Why bother? He already knew he was getting on the boat. She slid her hand into his.
His warm skin enveloped hers, holding firmly but only giving the slightest shake. Her first instinct was to pull away immediately. But he kept smiling and didn’t let go.
