The Testing (The Testing 1)

My father gives me a sad smile. “They were smart enough not to get caught. But even if they had been, I doubt they would have gotten more than a reprimand. It’s hard to punish kids for trying to pull their family out of poverty.”

We walk the next few miles without talking as I consider the implications of my father’s words. I can tell myself there’s no proof my father’s dreams are real. But this . . . I can’t think of a single student in the Five Lakes Colony school who would sabotage a fellow student in order to get a better grade. None of us are rich, but no one I know is starving, either. Not anymore. If a family is struggling in Five Lakes, the rest of the community pitches in to help. A world where you might poison the competition in order to feed your family is inconceivable to me.

Slashes of pink and purple light the sky as we approach the outskirts of town. Dad puts his arm around my shoulders and holds me close. “Make sure you eat right and get enough sleep. That’s going to help you stay strong and think clearly.”

I nod at the familiar words.

Just before we finish climbing the last hill he adds, “Be careful who you trust, Cia. You do that and everything will be okay.”

Hand in hand, we walk into the square.

In front of the magistrate’s house is an enormous black skimmer with the seal of the Commonwealth stamped on the side. Tomas, Malachi, and members of their families are standing near the back of it. Malachi is wearing his best clothes—stiffly pressed pants, polished black shoes, and a jacket over a collared shirt. The bright white of Malachi’s shirt is in vivid contrast with his dark skin, and from the hunch of his shoulders I can tell he is fighting back tears. Tomas’s clothing choice is more like mine. Faded gray pants and a white V-neck shirt make Tomas look like he is preparing to work on his father’s farm instead of traveling to Tosu City. His handsome face is unreadable as his mother fusses over his unruly hair.

Magistrate Owens and the Tosu official are standing near the front of the skimmer and wave as Dad and I approach. Today, official Michal Gallen is wearing a fitted purple jumpsuit, also stamped with the Commonwealth logo. His shaggy hair is slicked back into a ponytail, giving the angles of his face more definition.

Magistrate Owens pulls my father to the side, leaving me alone with official Gallen. He smiles at me, and I’m surprised to see warmth for the first time in his deep green eyes.

“Are you nervous about the trip, Malencia?”

For some reason I don’t expect him to remember my name. That he does pleases me. “I’m more nervous that I’ll disappoint the colony by not doing well on the tests, Mr. Gallen.”

He laughs. “Call me Michal. And don’t worry. That’ll pass.”

My nerves or caring about the colony? I don’t get the chance to ask because he pushes off the vehicle and holds out his hand. “Can I stow your bag? You won’t need it until we get to Tosu City.” In his other hand is a transparent bag containing two thick silver bands—one larger than the other. “This is your identification bracelet. Each Testing candidate is assigned an identifying symbol that is engraved on the bracelet. You’ll wear this one and the smaller band will wrap around the strap on your bag. That way no one can confuse their bag with yours.”

He snaps the clasp of the identification band onto my left wrist and affixes the other to my bag. Once he disappears into the skimmer, I study the bracelet. It is about an inch wide and woven of thick metal segments. I know the bracelet has a clasp, but the fastening is impossible to distinguish. Turning my wrist, I study the large silver disk attached to the top of the bracelet. Etched in black on the disk is an eight-pointed star. In the center of the star is a stylized lightning bolt.

“The star represents your Testing group.” I jump at Michal’s voice. I hadn’t realized he’d returned. “You’ll find other kids with the same symbol on their bracelet, but yours will be the only one with a lightning bolt.”

“Do the symbols mean something specific?” The words slip past my lips before I can take them back. Maybe kids from other colonies who always have Testing candidates know what the symbols mean.

If he thinks the question is silly, Michal doesn’t show it. “The eight-pointed star is the symbol for rejuvenation. The kids in that group show aptitude in a lot of different areas. It’s a pretty good group to be in.” His smile is warm and encouraging, and I find myself smiling back and wondering what group he was in.

A small beeping sound prompts Michal to look down at his watch. He looks around the square, and his smile fades. Zandri still isn’t here, and I wonder if this is just her casual attention to time or if she has chosen to challenge the laws and refuse her place at The Testing. Does she believe laws so long untested will not be enforced?

Michal excuses himself and huddles with Magistrate Owens and my father. From the way Michal is pointing to his watch, he believes the time for Zandri to arrive has come and gone. My father and Magistrate Owens argue with Michal over giving Zandri more time. I turn away and hold my breath, knowing what the punishment might be. And I see her. I squint into the sunlight to be certain before yelling, “She’s here.”

“Thank God,” I hear someone whisper.

The wind teases Zandri’s gauzy multicolored skirt and peasant blouse as she strolls unhurried through the square. Her long blond hair glistens in the sunlight. A small smile tugs at her lips as she reaches us. She offers no apologies. And I know. She’s planned this entrance. She’s showing that while she can be required to perform, she cannot be controlled. While I admire her guts, the annoyed look in Michal’s eyes makes me worry for her.

My father puts his arm around me as Michal gives Zandri her identification bracelets, and stows her bag in the skimmer. Gone is his warm manner as he instructs us all to get into the vehicle. It is time to go.

The swirl of emotions I’ve been holding at bay hits me full force as my father pulls me into a tight embrace. Tears threaten to choke me as I tell him I love him. I push aside the hurt that Zeen didn’t say goodbye and ask my father to give Zeen my note and the entire family my love. My father tells me he loves me, too, and reminds me in one last whisper, “Cia, trust no one.”

I am the last one to climb into the sleek skimmer. The door closes behind me. I hear the locks engage as the engine roars to life. My father puts his hand on the porthole glass, and I lift mine to mirror it. Our eyes meet for a moment, and one tear escapes my resolve as the skimmer begins to rise. Dad steps back from the skimmer, and a moment later we are moving forward—out of the square, toward Tosu City—away from anything familiar.

My heart races with excitement even as it is torn in two. I can see the same conflicting emotions on the faces of the other Five Lakes Testing candidates. Our graduation ceremony changed our status from adolescent to adult, but this journey makes it official. We are on our own.

I stare out the window until the last familiar sights fade into the horizon. I store up the memories of the fields and the hills for the days and maybe years to come. Then I turn and take in my new surroundings. My father and his staff have a couple of skimmers they use for work, so I’ve ridden in one before. But my father’s vehicles are not as sophisticated or as fast as this. In fact, aside from the name and the fact that they hover several feet over the earth, the vehicles are nothing alike. Where the greenhouse skimmers are small and seat between one and four people, and only that if you squeeze, this one could seat twelve passengers in comfort. The couchlike seats that line the front of the passenger compartment are gray and soft. In the back of the vehicle is a small kitchen

and a door that leads to another compartment. The roof of the skimmer is tall enough that I can walk around the cabin with room to spare.

I don’t see our bags and consider asking Michal where he stowed them, but he is seated in a separate driver’s compartment up front. From the set of his shoulders I’d say he’s busy concentrating on driving. Which is good. While skimmers are designed to hover up to fifteen feet above the ground, the propulsion mechanism that makes the vehicle run requires there actually be ground somewhere underneath. If a skimmer travels over a large hole, it will stop gliding. Skimmers also have trouble over water, which is why someone adapted them to float if necessary.

“I’ve never ridden in anything like this before,” Malachi says from across the cabin. His wide eyes are filled with anxiety. His father is an irrigation worker. His mother makes quilts. No, Malachi never would have had cause to ride on anything more sophisticated than a bicycle. Until now. I cock my head to the side to get a better view of the symbol on his bracelet. A triangle with an arrow in the middle. We are not in the same group.

“I think it’s safe to say none of us have ridden in anything quite like this.” Tomas gets up from his seat in the back and crosses over to sit next to Malachi. “At the rate we’re going, we’ll be in Tosu City before dark.”