The Testing

by Joelle Charbonneau

  The sound of locks being engaged accompanies the Testing official’s exit. The only way out of this room is through the Testing exam doors.

  The four of us look at one another for a moment. I am the first to grab the booklet marked with my symbol. The tall, muscular blond boy grabs one with what I think is an anchor surrounded by a heart. The X surrounded by a circle belongs to the scruffy kid.

  Something about this test makes me apprehensive. Maybe it is the simplicity of the instructions or the idea that someone else will get credit for my work and me for theirs. Whatever it is, my gut tells me there is more to this test than meets the eye.

  I don’t have to think about what that might be as Annalise takes charge. “How about we solve the sample problems one at a time? Once everyone is done with a problem we can compare notes. That should help us figure out who should do which problem. Right?”

  Since none of us has a better idea, we take her suggestion and get to work. The first problem is mathematical—a one-dimensional heat equation to determine the flow of heat in a rod where everything but the ends are insulated. These are equations I have used often and make me smile as I get to work.

  I’m surprised when the scruffy boy, whose name turns out to be Roman, finishes before me and has the same answer as mine. Annalise’s answer also matches. Brick’s does not.

  One by one we work through the problems in the book. A history section that requires dates, names, and population sizes for the colonization of the United Commonwealth. A biology question that asks for the DNA mapping of a rock wolverine that resembles a wolf but is actually a mutated version of a Nebelung cat. While I’m answering the question about solar power, the red light turns green. Our Testing can begin at any time. Maybe the pressure of the light distracts me from fully concentrating on the last problem that details the principles of nuclear weaponry. I’m the last one in the group to complete the final question. Brick is first to finish. His answer agrees with the other two. My answer matches no one’s.

  Out of five questions, my answers match at least one of the others four times. Annalise also gets four matches. Brick matches answers on two. Roman’s first answer is his only correct one.

  “Guess that means I go first, right?” he says.

  Of the members of the group, I am by far the youngest. At home my natural inclination would be to hear everyone else’s opinions before offering mine, but something about his enthusiasm rubs me the wrong way. So instead of waiting, I say, “The Testing official didn’t say the problems have to be completed in order. We just have to determine the order the members of our group go in to solve the problems.”

  Roman folds his arms across his chest and scowls. “That’s not what I heard.”

  I look at Annalise. She chews her bottom lip and closes her eyes as though trying to recall the exact words. When her eyes open, they’re filled with apology. “I think Roman could be right. We could try it another way, but if we do we could fail. That’s a risk I’m not willing to take.”

  Roman smiles. Brick shrugs and nods. Three against one. Just like that the discussion is over.

  Annalise leads the decision making. Roman will answer the first problem. She will answer the second and third. I will answer the fourth, Brick the fifth. I suggest that I might be better suited to the third question since my father’s work has given me a strong understanding of genetics, but Roman and Annalise disagree. Brick refuses to give an opinion. Part of me wonders why as Roman gets up and says, “See you all after the test.” He turns the handle on the green-lit door and walks out without a backwards glance.

  The light turns red, and we wait.

  At first, we try to chat. Annalise asks Brick about his home, and we learn he’s from Roswell Colony. His parents are both University graduates. They work at a former military facility where together they develop weapons and security methods for colonies plagued by animal attacks. No wonder he excelled at the nuclear science question.

  As the minutes tick by, though, our conversation becomes more stilted. There is more time in between questions. Shorter answers. Until we no longer talk. We just wait for the light to change.

  There is no clock. No windows to measure the movement of the sun. No way to know if the time that passes is as long as it feels. My shoulder muscles tighten. I see Annalise roll out the tension in her neck. Brick is the only one who appears unfazed by the long wait.

  He closes his eyes.

  Annalise gnaws on her thumbnail.

  I stretch my muscles.

  Every minute feels like ten. Never do I lose sight of the light.

  Finally, it changes. Annalise stands and smiles. “My turn. I bet I can do both my problems in less time than it took for Roman to do his.”

  “Don’t rush,” I warn, and I feel my face flush as I realize my words could imply criticism. “We’re okay waiting,” I say. “Take as long as you need.”

  Annalise’s smile fades as her eyes meet mine. In their depths I see nerves and a touch of fear lurking behind the bravado that I have in this short time come to admire. Then the smile is back as she nods. “I promise to kick butt on questions two and three. The rest is up to the two of you.”

  The door closes. The red light returns. So does the silence.

  Brick sits unmoving. His calm, silent demeanor has the opposite effect on me. I stand and pace the room as my stomach begins to growl. I am certain it is far past lunchtime. It is obvious that no meals will be provided until this test is complete. And maybe that’s part of the test—to see if candidates will stay focused despite the desire for food.

  My mother always insisted I eat everything on my plate on mornings before important tests. She said the brain and body need fuel to operate at the highest level. I dig through my bag for my stash of food and find myself deciding between a roll filled with raisins and nuts, and an apple. Since the roll is easier to split with Brick, I start to pull it out when I realize they are two of the items I selected for dinner the first night of The Testing. I count back the days. Less than a week has passed, but everything has changed since that night when the four of us from Five Lakes arrived and took our table. Now Malachi is gone and I am working in a group with the boy who tripped him. Did Roman stick out his leg for spite? For fun? Did he think it would intimidate Malachi into doing less well on the exams, thereby giving Roman a better chance of passing? Maybe. Roman only got one answer correct today. How smart can he be? The work he did on the final problem was so illogical I found it hard to believe he had made it through the first two tests.

  Wait.

  I reach for the booklet marked with the X and the circle. Roman’s handwriting is neater than I would have suspected based on his appearance. Hearing my mother’s voice warn not to let appearances deceive me, I read through the pages of numbers and formulas for the first problem. The work impresses me. While I also got the correct answer, Roman was able to calculate several steps in his head, which is why he finished first. His work makes it clear why he was chosen for The Testing. He’s smart. Very smart.

  Which is why his answers to the other questions make no sense. Gibberish fills those pages. We had all been so concerned with who gave the correct answers to the problems we never bothered to check the pages that preceded the final solution. Roman’s scribbles made one thing obvious. He wasn’t concerned with coming up with the right solutions. He was just wasting time. Why?

  “Cia.”

  I jump as Brick’s voice breaks the silence and follow his gaze to the light above the door. Green. If I were to make a guess, less than a half hour has passed since Annalise walked through the door. Could she have finished her problems in so little time? Hands shaking, I grab the booklet marked with the other eight-pointed star and start flipping the pages.

  Yes. Her writing is clear. Concise. Confident. Her logic shows no flaws that I can see. If anyone could whiz through two tests in far less time than it took another candidate to do one, it would be Annalise. Still . . .

  “Are you going to
go in?” Brick asks.

  “In a minute,” I say. Going through the door is my only option. The only way to get past this test. It’s what happens once I am through that door that is in doubt. I think back to the Testing official’s instructions. Roman’s insistence that he go first. One answer allowed per question. The scores to the answers provided count for all. Any attempt to resolve a question will be punished.

  Annalise’s testing booklet falls from my fingers and my legs go weak as the pieces click into place. Roman’s lack of effort on the other problems. The length of time it took for the red light to turn green during his turn. Dr. Barnes told us the third test would evaluate our ability not only to work well with others, but to evaluate their strengths and weaknesses. If I am correct, Roman evaluated our group perfectly and has set the rest of us up to walk into a trap.

  A trap Annalise must have already sprung.

  I sit hard on the chair behind me and take deep breaths trying to stave off the panic. If I am right, I cannot attempt to answer the problem my team assigned me. If I am wrong, not answering the problem could result in my failure. I have to decide what I believe.

  My heart pounds as I look at Brick. His calm demeanor and poor performance on the practice problems take on a sinister tone. Does he know about Roman’s plan? Did they plot this together? Brick’s practice book might present me with the answers, but the booklet is currently resting under his elbow on the table in front of him. To get the booklet, I have to explain my concerns. If he isn’t involved in Roman’s trap, Brick will learn about it from me and gain the opportunity to pass when he doesn’t deserve to.

  Shame. Hot. Deep. Oily, stomach-churning embarrassment fills me. My thoughts make me no better than the person I believe Roman to be. I will not stoop so low as to trick others in order to eliminate the competition. While I am horrified at the methods employed with The Testing, I seriously doubt the Testing officials who rate us at the end will approve of trickery either. What kind of leader would that type of person make?

  Mimicking Brick’s calm demeanor, I carefully explain what I believe Roman’s plan is. What I think happened to Annalise. What could possibly happen to us if we attempt to solve the problems we have been assigned. Brick listens without interruption, and when I fall silent, considers me for a long time before saying, “We said we would answer the agreed-upon questions.”

  Does he not believe me? No. His expression is not one of disbelief, but of resignation. “Roman agreed to work as a team, but I don’t think he is. If we answer an already answered question, we’ll be penalized.”

  I can see the nail enter Malachi’s eye. The blood. The trembling body crumpled on the floor. Knowing what could happen makes me want to shake Brick’s stoic shoulders as his head moves side to side while once again saying he gave his word. His parents taught him to respect a promise. End of story.

  Desperation claws at my heart even as I wonder if he’s right. If I’m wrong. If Roman answered only his question. If not answering ours will be the biggest mistake we could make.

  Hitching my bag onto my shoulder, I walk slowly across the room. I have done all I can to help Brick survive the day. If he doesn’t . . .

  “Please.” Turning, I walk back to Brick and take his hand in mine. “You don’t know me. There’s no reason you should trust what I say. I can’t tell you what to do. I can only ask that you look at Roman’s booklet and think about who has the most to gain by betraying the others. If he solved all five problems, anyone who attempts to solve them again will be penalized. I don’t know what the penalty is . . .” I see the nail enter Malachi’s eye again and swallow the bile that rises in my throat. “But if I’m right, three of us could be eliminated from The Testing because we trusted our teammate.”

  For a moment the composed expression disappears, replaced by confusion. “I’m not from your colony. Why do you care what I do?”

  “Because I don’t want anyone else to die.”

  Brick looks over my shoulder at the door behind me. The green light telling me it is time for me to make my choice.

  Letting go of his hand, I open the door, give one last look at my teammate, and walk through hoping I did enough to save Brick’s life. Hoping I am confident enough in my own deductions to save my own.

  The hallway is dimly lit. The shadows fill me with unease as I follow the corridor to the end. As promised, another hallway lined with six illuminated doors greets me. To my right is the door marked with the number four. The door I promised to walk through. To my left are doors one through three. I cross to door two—looking for signs of what? Blood? Hair? Something to prove my theory right. The silver doorknob gleams in the light. There are no smudges on it to bear witness that it had been handled. I check the other doorknobs. All perfectly polished.

  I walk back to door number four and trace the black number on the snow-white door. Do I keep my word and turn the handle, or go with my gut and walk away?

  How long do I stand in front of the door? I don’t know. But when I finally make my choice my knees protest as I shift my weight. Touching the doorknob, I take a deep breath and step away from the door. Turn to the right. Walk two doors down to the one marked EXIT and turn the gleaming knob, hoping the choice I have made is not my last.

  Chapter 9

  A TESTING OFFICIAL is waiting inside a small room containing a dark wooden table, a chair, and a control panel of some kind. It’s probably what makes the light we watched go from red to green. The official’s expression is pleasant as she leads me through a back door, down well-lit hallways to the bank of elevators. The Testing official stays on the elevator as I exit onto the fifth floor wondering how and when I will learn my fate.

  I hear the sounds of conversation from the dining hall and realize that I might not need to wait. The person with the answer to whether I made the correct choice is right through those doors. My heart leaps as I see Tomas, Will, and Zandri sitting at our table, but I do not join them. Not yet. Instead, I scan the room.

  I spot Roman before he sees me. Laughing with friends. At a joke or at those of us who might have been eliminated because we believed him?

  Tomas calls my name, but I don’t move from my position in the doorway. The girl next to Roman jabs him with her elbow. His eyes turn and meet mine. And I know. The disbelief and anger in his eyes tell me I was right not to trust him. I just wish I had figured out the truth sooner. If I had, Annalise might be seated at one of these tables. There is no sign of her red hair and confident smile. A small part of me hopes she is relaxing in her room, though if she is, I am almost guaranteed a failing grade.

  I feel Roman’s eyes follow me as I grab a bag of crackers from the snacks on the table and walk across the room to sit with my friends. Tomas, Will, and Zandri tell me about the problems they solved. From the way they talk, I begin to understand that while we all had the same types of problems to complete, every group solved them in a different order. Tomas answered the third question for his team—the math question Roman was supposed to answer for ours. Zandri went first for her team and answered the history problem. Will went second and was assigned genetics. Everyone from Tomas’s group has returned from the exam. Zandri and Will are still waiting for the rest of their teammates to arrive.

  As I watch the door, they ask which question I was assigned. In a quiet voice I tell them about my belief in my teammate’s betrayal. My decision not to open the door. To leave before answering my question. My friends stare at me. A knot forms in my chest. Will recovers first and says he’s impressed I trusted my instincts. That he was glad he never had to make a choice about trusting his teammates since Zandri was the only one who went before him. And, of course, he trusted her. Tomas looks at Will for several long moments before saying he’s proud that I alerted Brick to my suspicions. Will tells a joke to make me feel better, but I don’t. Zandri’s wide eyes and trembling lips and the way Tomas frowns when he doesn’t think I’m looking remind me that the verdict to this test is still in doubt. There is still a
chance that I made a mistake. That I failed. And when Brick appears in the doorway, I am certain I did. My heart drops. Brick had been adamant about following through with his promise. And when he passes my table without a glance, I’m positive he did exactly what he swore to do. Brick solved his question. He knows I was planning on not answering mine. Now I am forced to wonder—did I ruin the chance for all of us to pass this test and continue on?

  Nicolette arrives full of stories about her teammates. Some were nice. One was pushy and arrogant. Her group made the arrogant boy go last—just in case he got any ideas about messing up the test for the others. I turn a cracker over in my hands and listen to everyone talk about the personalities of the candidates they were grouped with. Zandri shoots looks at the door as she watches for her other test teammates to arrive. I realize Tomas has fallen silent. He’s watching our friends closely. Out of the corner of my eye I see him looking at me. Does he think I’m paranoid? Maybe I am.

  Time passes slowly as more candidates arrive looking triumphant or tired. Sometimes both. Eventually, dinner is served. I force myself to eat. With every bite, I cast a look at Brick, willing him to make eye contact. To give me a sign of the choice he made.

  As we finish with our meal, a voice over the loudspeaker says, “Phase three of Testing is now complete. Failing results will be delivered to candidates’ rooms within the hour. For those who pass, I wish you a good night’s sleep. Preparation for the final phase of Testing will begin tomorrow.”

  My friends rise and head for the exit. I pretend to adjust my bag’s strap and remain seated until Brick walks past. He never looks in my direction.