The Testing

by Joelle Charbonneau

  But despite the workload, I cannot get the thought of the possible Redirection of an official’s son out of my mind. If the Tosu City students were killed or disappeared, wouldn’t their parents object? If this official’s son did not make it through the acceptance process, wouldn’t he wonder what happened to him? Maybe some parents wouldn’t, but this one, whose love for his son is so apparent, would. I’ve heard people say that Tosu City students who did not reach Dr. Barnes’s expectations were assigned to jobs in the colonies. Yet, not one of the colony students I’ve talked to has ever noticed or heard of younger Tosu City adults coming to work in their area. While I know Five Lakes is smaller than the other colonies, I can’t imagine the arrival of new residents from Tosu City wouldn’t draw notice, even in the larger settlements. Something else is going on here. Which makes me wonder what Redirection really means. If it doesn’t mean assignment to the colonies or certain death, what happens to the students who do not pass Dr. Barnes’s tests?

  Chapter 15

  I WANT TO ask Michal if he has ever asked these questions, but this isn’t the time or place. There are too many people listening. Too much at stake.

  As I grab my bicycle, Michal says, “I have to go inside for a meeting. Are you okay getting back to the University on your own? If not, I can ask someone to help you get these papers to your residence.”

  I shift the strap on the bag so the weight will be easier to manage while riding and tell him I’m fine.

  “Good.” Michal holds the bicycle while I throw my leg over the seat. “If you need any assistance with the reports, I’ll be working late for the next couple days. You’ll be able to find me at the president’s office.”

  His eyes hold mine to make sure I understand. And I do. If I stumble across any important information or get into trouble, I am to find Michal. He will help.

  Michal turns and I start pedaling. Despite the weight on my back and the worry of whether The Testing will end before inflicting more death, I smile. My legs pump and the bicycle picks up speed. My hair whips across my face, but I don’t stop to fasten it back as I normally would. The freedom I feel is too wonderful to stop for even a moment.

  I push the pedals and zip around pedestrians. After several blocks, there are fewer people on the streets, and I ignore caution and push myself to go even faster. The buildings and trees speed by. The sun shines warm on my face. If I close my eyes, I can almost imagine that I am back in Five Lakes, headed home to where my family waits.

  Instead of taking a direct route to the University, I zigzag through the city streets, trying to prolong the happiness. Soon my legs begin to tire. Despite the exercises I have done to regain my former muscle tone, my body is not used to this kind of exertion. But it will be. Dad always said the best way to keep the mind healthy is to make sure the body is strong. I know my father was right. While my legs and back are tired, my mind is more focused. More like the girl I was before I was chosen for The Testing. The one who believed that the government wanted the best for us all and that her fellow students could be trusted. This girl would never have believed that friends could betray or that a fellow student would happily abandon her to die in a metal box.

  Despite the nightmares that have plagued me, I have tried to avoid remembering the time I spent locked inside a case of steel or the revenge I wanted to exact when I was released. The only thing revenge brings is more destruction. More death. That I was willing to embrace that emotion, even for a brief time, scared me more than being locked inside that box. Though I do not like Professor Holt, her message to us during Induction was correct. Leaders must be able to control their emotions. It is a skill I vow to master. If it hadn’t been for my tripping on that wire, I might have done something . . .

  The wire. The other wire I spotted on the other side of the fence. After Induction ended, I put them out of my mind. Ignored the questions I’d had when I saw them. Now that I’ve recalled the snares, the questions and all they imply return. Snares are set by people. People who need food. The signs on the air base fence are clear. The area beyond is too dangerous for anyone to venture beyond. The snares suggest different. If the area isn’t as deadly as the warnings suggest, it would be an ideal location for anyone looking to act in secret while remaining close to the United Commonwealth’s capital.

  Could the rebels be using the airfield? Michal said Symon and his people were nearby, near enough for Michal and the other government rebels to pass information back and forth.

  If the rebels aren’t at the airfield, who else could be living in the unrevitalized area? Could Redirected students be living among the devastation?

  I slow and put my feet down on the pavement before crossing the bridge to the residence. Once I cross, my brief escape from the pressure and worry will end. University work will once again begin. The weight of the bag pulls on my shoulder, reminding me of the daunting task in front of me.

  Walking my bicycle across the bridge, I consider how to discover what Redirection means for colony and Tosu City students. Symon’s faction of rebels is working to find The Testing recordings in order to convince Dr. Barnes’s supporters to remove him. If the rebels don’t find that proof, they’ll need other evidence to convince the Debate Chamber to vote with the president. Proof of what happens to the Redirected students might be enough.

  Now that I have transportation and an internship with the president, I will have a method and an excuse to leave this campus. Professor Holt and my fellow students will believe I’m working at the president’s office, while the president and her staff will assume I’m doing my work here. As long as I get everything done, no one will have reason to question my whereabouts. Learning the identities of those living on the airfield might not give me the answers I seek, but it’s a place to start.

  I look in the direction of Tomas’s residence and wish I could talk to him about what I plan to do. The fears I have. The conflict that might be coming.

  I am about to turn my bicycle in that direction when a second-year student with pale yellow hair offers to show me the outbuilding where I can store my bicycle. Vowing to find an opportunity to talk to Tomas later, I follow her directions and take my bulging bag inside. Since it’s long past lunch, I grab an apple and some crackers from the dining hall before climbing the stairs to my rooms. The residence is mostly quiet. Students are in class, still at their internships, or locked in their rooms studying.

  Sitting on the floor of my room, I pull stacks of papers out of my bag and put them into four different piles based on the departments that created them. I tie my hair back into a knot, pick a pile at random, and start reading.

  After an hour, I’m sure this project will take years, if not decades, to complete. Once the government decides on the path the tracks should take—and there are seven differing opinions on the best route to each of the currently inaccessible colonies—the ground needs to be cleared of trees and debris. Then bridges must be built to cross chasms in the earth. Those gaps are the reason why Five Lakes and the other colonies were not part of the original rail plan. They are also the reason none of the departments can agree on how to proceed. Those who are involved with land revitalization don’t want the train to disrupt newly planted crops and trees, which means directing the train over some of the widest fissures. The Department of Resource Management is concerned by the amount of steel required to create bridges over those areas and wants the train directed to the areas where the gaps in the earth are smallest. Both sides have fair points.

  For the next three hours, I consult maps, read long-winded documents, and scribble notes. When dinnertime comes, I’m grateful for the excuse to get up and leave the papers behind—even though I know I will see faces missing from the dining room. It is time to learn who has been cut from our ranks.

  The dining hall is half full when I arrive. I can feel eyes following me as I cross to the back table where Ian is seated. Most of the first years are still missing, but I spot a few. Griffin. Kaleigh. Enzo. I let out a sigh of
relief at the latter. Though he has not been forthcoming about himself, I count Enzo among my friends.

  When I reach my table, those seated at it stop talking.

  “I guess everyone knows about my internship,” I say.

  Ian grins as the rest of our table suddenly fills with people. One of them is Griffin. Moments later, Enzo follows.

  “The president’s skimmer on campus was a tip-off that something big was happening,” says Ian. “It didn’t take long for people to put the pieces together. I’ve been fielding questions about you and the internship all day.” While his tone is light, I can see tension behind his eyes as they slide down the table to Griffin and back to me.

  I take a piece of bread and pretend that hunger, not worry, is churning my insides. Will and Raffe slide into the last two seats at the table, and I force a smile. While I’m glad they are not faced with Dr. Barnes’s Redirection, I still do not understand or trust either.

  Turning back to Ian, I ask, “Who’s been asking questions?”

  “My professors. Students. Everyone is talking about the president taking a deeper interest in the University. Some think her involvement means great things for the future.”

  Some.

  Forcing a laugh, I say, “That’s because they haven’t seen the work I’ve been assigned. I doubt I’ll ever come out of my rooms. People are going to have to start bringing meals to me. I’m glad the president said I can work out of her office if I need to, because carrying that much paper might kill me.”

  Everyone at my table chuckles, but Griffin’s laughter has something ugly lurking behind it.

  Plates of food are placed on the table. Long noodles mixed with tomatoes and greens. Flaky white fish that I’ve been told is plentiful in the river that runs through the center of Tosu. A bowl of fresh berries. As we pass platters around the table, I’m asked questions about my first assignment from the president. I answer each as vaguely as possible. After a few more attempts to learn more, my classmates give up and talk of other things.

  Will answers a question about his internship in the Health Department as I glance around the room, looking for other first years. I count the faces as I locate them and then count again to make certain I am right. Two are missing. Their names were Geraldine and Drake. Redirected. Perhaps soon I’ll learn to where.

  My plate is still full when dinner ends, so I put the fruit, bread, and cheese in my bag before going back to my rooms. Ian stops me on the stairs and asks if I have any questions about my internship. I know he’s offering me a chance to ask for help with my work. Part of me wants to accept. I believe we are on the same side, but without being certain I cannot take the chance.

  Back in my rooms, I read the reports on the colonies that are to be joined by the railway. Five Lakes, with 1,023 citizens, is the smallest by far. Picking up the report on my home colony, I immediately realize that the person who sketched the maps and provided the details has never been to Five Lakes. The lakes that the colony is named after are in the right positions, as is the town square. But the apple orchard my father and his team cultivated is on the southwestern side of the colony. Whoever drew the map switched the location of the orchard with the windmills and solar panels that line the southeastern border.

  I dig up a blank piece of gray paper and sketch my own map. Unlike Zandri, who could capture anything in a few strokes of a paintbrush, I have limited artistic talents. But I keep drawing, telling myself that accuracy is more important than perfection. I rearrange the incorrect locations and redraw the boundaries of the colony based on my father’s team’s most recent revitalization efforts, which expanded the northern border by two miles—results the officials in Tosu City might not have in their records. When I left, Zeen was scouting the area just west of our colony for the best areas to start the revitalization process there. I can’t help wondering if those plans were finalized or if they have already been embarked upon.

  I dig the Transit Communicator out of my bag, turn it over, and run my finger along the almost imperceptible button on the bottom. The metal is cold beneath my fingers, but touching something my brother worked on makes me feel less alone. I know Zeen dreamed of being chosen for The Testing. What would he say about it if I told him what I have learned? I wish there were a way to tell him and to hear what he would do next. Because Zeen always has a plan.

  I stiffen. Something scrapes against my door. I reach into my pocket for my knife as I scramble to my feet. When I fling open the door, I’m surprised to see Raffe standing on the other side. “What are you doing lurking out there?”

  He jams his hands into his pockets and looks up and down the hall. “Can I come in?”

  I study his face, finger the knife in my hand, and nod. I’m not sure what he wants, but I figure it’s better to find out inside my living room rather than where someone could be listening. I close the door as Raffe says, “Wow, you weren’t kidding about the amount of work you were given.”

  Raffe moves some papers off a chair and sits at the small table. I don’t bother to sit. Instead, I ask, “Why are you here?”

  “To see if you need help.”

  I move the reports on Madison Colony and sit across from him. “Don’t you have enough work of your own?”

  “Not as much as you’d think.” His shoulders stiffen. “I’m interning for one of the officials who work for my father. Since my father doesn’t want anything to interfere with my grades, I’m going to be using my time at the Education offices to catch up on my homework.”

  The Education Department. Adrenaline zips through my blood. Sitting across from me is a person who might have access to the information Michal and the rebels are looking for. No one would think to question his desire to look through files. Not with his father in charge.

  If only I could trust him . . .

  Pushing away my thoughts, I glance at the papers around the room and say, “Must be nice not to have the stress of extra work.”

  “Not really.” He puts his arms on the table and leans forward. “I didn’t study late every night while growing up in order to sit around doing nothing. There are things that are broken that need to be fixed. I want to help fix them.”

  His gaze holds mine. In his eyes I see passion. For what I do not know. I am about to ask when a knock sounds. Will. He gives a jaunty wave when I open the door.

  “What are you doing here?” Since moving into these rooms, I’ve had only two visitors—Ian and Will on the first night. Suddenly, I’m popular. It’s not hard to imagine why. “Do you want to help work on my assignments for the president too?”

  “I saw Raffe leave his rooms and come upstairs.” Before I can close the door, Will saunters inside and gives Raffe a wide smile. “I decided to see what he was up to and wasn’t surprised when he came here.”

  Raffe leans back in the chair. “I came to offer Cia my help.”

  “So you can report back to your father and Dr. Barnes that she can’t handle her assignments?” Will asks.

  “Why would I do that?” Raffe’s eyes glitter with anger.

  “Maybe because you don’t like the idea that a colony student was picked to work in the president’s office instead of you? You wouldn’t be the first one around here I’ve heard sounding bitter about that. Griffin won’t shut up about it.”

  “I’m not Griffin.”

  “No.” Will nods. “But you aren’t a colony student, either. So why are you here, offering to help Cia?”

  “Just because someone is from the colonies doesn’t mean he can be trusted, Will.” Despite the aid he rendered me during Induction, distrust fills my voice.

  Will looks at me. I see surprise, sorrow, and regret flicker in his eyes. “Maybe not,” he says. Then the cockiness I have always known returns. “But some of us are worth keeping around because of our sparkling personalities and handsome faces.”

  His words make Raffe laugh, and while I want nothing more than for Will to leave, even I am forced to smile. Will has that effect.

&
nbsp; “As much as I appreciate that,” I say, “your sparkling personality is keeping me from getting this work done. If the two of you both leave, I can get back to it.”

  “I’m not leaving until he goes.” Will picks up some papers and takes a seat on the small couch.

  I look at Raffe, who raises his eyebrows at me. The expression is almost identical to one Zeen gives when I try to convince him to do something he has no intention of doing. It makes me want to stick out my tongue like I used to do when I was little.

  “Hey, this report is about Madison Colony.”

  I turn to reach for the papers Will’s holding, but the naked longing on his face makes me stop. Reading about my colony made me feel closer to those I love. As much as I want to hurt Will for all that he has done, I can’t deny him this glimpse of home.

  “These plans are about the railway expansion,” I explain. “Four departments involved drafted opinions on how best to build a train system to the colonies that aren’t part of the current system. I’m supposed to review them and report to President Collindar on which ideas have the most merit.”

  “Well, whoever drew this map should be pitched off the project.” Will holds up the diagram of Madison Colony. “The paper mills are over here.” He points to the outskirts of the city, where the report shows only unrevitalized buildings. The perfect site to build the train station. “And this area is all farmland. And why do they think we have corn and soy farms in the middle of the city?”

  Raffe laughs. I sigh. “The Five Lakes Colony maps are wrong too. If both the Madison and Five Lakes maps are inaccurate, the others must be as well. I can’t give the president a recommendation if the information I’m basing my judgment on is wrong.”