Independent Study (The Testing 2)

“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 w

hat he was up to and wasn’t surprised when he came here.”