The Testing (The Testing 1)

“Well, there’s going to have to be since we’re going to end it. But you have to wonder whether the president would be asking you to do this if The Testing hadn’t already told her what you’re capable of. What happens once The Testing has ended and they need leaders who are willing to do whatever it takes to help this country survive? Just because someone says they are capable doesn’t make it true. And just because you think something is wrong doesn’t mean it isn’t necessary.”

“If you think The Testing is necessary, why are you working with me to end it?”

Stacia’s smile is hard and so very familiar. It makes me shiver now, especially when she says, “Because I want my chance to make sure the mistakes that ruined this country never happen again. If I have to kill to make that a reality, then that’s what I’ll do.” Stacia laughs. “Besides, you’d

never do anything you weren’t certain was absolutely right. If you believe that by ending The Testing we’ll prevent a potential civil war, that’s good enough for me.”

My breath catches. My chest tightens as Stacia’s casually spoken words settle on my shoulders like a yoke. She is here because I asked. She will kill not out of passion for the purpose we have, but because of me. My request. My beliefs. My choices. I can only hope they are the right ones.

We work in silence for the next half hour. By the time the powder is ground, our arms are tired. Stacia helps me strain the black powder, then test it by putting a small pinch of the substance on a block of wood. I put the wood on a table, touch the match to it, and step back as the substance ignites. A flame several inches high burns bright, then fades.

It doesn’t take long for us to put shredded paper and the black powder into the fake pulse radio I constructed. Then I slide two wires into the holes and wrap black adhesive tape around the lid to ensure that the wires stay in place and no powder escapes the holes.

I check the switch on the radio to make sure I have built it properly. To engage the power source, someone must flip the switch and then turn a knob a hundred and eighty degrees. It is a design sometimes used to make sure power is not wasted if a switch is mistakenly turned to the On position.

Stacia takes a step back as I connect the other ends of the wires to my power source. I count to ten and then let out an exhale of relief when the device stays quiet in my hands.

“Well, that was amazing to watch. I’m glad to know I’m on your side.” Her grin is wide and delighted. “So, when do you plan on giving this to Raffe? I want to make sure I’m far away in case he decides to give it a whirl.”

“I don’t know.” Now that I’m holding it in my hands, I can visualize him turning the dial. Igniting the powder. Getting caught in the explosion.

“Take advantage of the first opportunity that presents itself. If we want to succeed, we don’t have time to waste.”

Knowing she’s right, I carefully pour the last of the black powder into a small specimen container, seal the lid, and put it in my bag, along with a book of matches from the cabinet. Together we clean up the evidence that someone has been in this room, secure the cabinet doors, and gather our things. I remove one of the single-frequency radios from my bag and hand it to Stacia. “I’ll let you know when I’m done testing the others and we can move on to the next step. For now I have to get to class.”

“Why?” Stacia slides the radio next to her books and tosses her hair. “Something tells me skipping a few classes isn’t really going to affect our grades from here on out.”

“Maybe not, but until we start our attack, we need to stick to our normal routines.”

“Well, no one will be surprised if I’m late.” She smiles. “Professor Frick isn’t exactly punctual himself. I’ll see you in class tomorrow if I don’t hear from you sooner.” As she leaves, she looks down at the table where the test for Raffe sits. “And good luck.”

Carefully, I pick up the device, slide it into my bag, and notice that the red message light is lit on my oscillating pulse radio. Tomas.

“I’m hoping this thing works. I’ve been asking some of the upper years about Dreu Owens, and I think I have news. Meet me after class at the greenhouse. With internships canceled, it should be a good place to meet. Oh, and Cia . . . I love you.”

Those words give me the strength to pick up my bag and walk to the door. This test for Raffe is too much like something Dr. Barnes or his officials would have dreamed up. But Tomas suffered the consequences of my confidence in the wrong person before. This time it will not just be Tomas but the rebels and maybe the rest of the country that suffers. Stacia is right. If Raffe understands he has been tested and has failed, his reaction could have serious consequences not only for me, and those who are working with me, but for the rebels and future Testing candidates. I can’t afford to be wrong about Raffe. I have to be sure, and I cannot think of another way.

The professor is ready to begin lecturing when I slip into a seat near the front of my World Languages class. Will raises an eyebrow when he catches my attention. I just smile and shrug as if my almost being late to class isn’t unusual.

I take notes and try to concentrate as the professor discusses the languages of the Asian Alliance countries, but all the while I am glancing down at my bag to check the monitor. Two lights blink close together. One, not far from the building in which I sit, belongs to Ian. The other belongs to the potentially deadly device sitting at my feet.

Class ends. I turn in my homework, write down the instructions for this week’s assignment, and move on to my next class: Chemistry.

Raffe sits next to me. My heart pounds as the seconds count down. Stacia said I should seize the first opportunity that presents itself. This is it.

Somehow I am able to stand without trembling when class ends. My voice is dispassionate when I ask Raffe if he has a minute to talk.

“Are you okay?” he asks after the other students head out of the room. “You look upset.”

“Are you going back to the residence now?”

“I was planning on it. Do you want to walk back with me?”

“I can’t.” I wait for the last student to leave before saying, “I have to meet somebody, but I don’t want to take something with me while I do. It’s too important.” I open my bag and remove the metal box I created.

“What is it?” He turns the device over in his hands.

“It’s a recording Tomas found. One that might be helpful in ending everything—if I can get it to the president.” I take a deep breath. “I’m hoping the restriction against leaving campus will be lifted by tomorrow and I can get it to her then, but I don’t want to have it on me now in case something goes wrong at this meeting. I’d give it back to Tomas, but—”