“I know,” MayLin says. “But Redirection may no longer be the answer. The president is becoming more vocal in her concerns about the number of students who fail to make it to graduation.”
“The president can express concern, but unless the law is changed, the testing and education of our leaders are in my hands. It is better for our country to learn early on that a student is not capable of dealing with the kinds of pressure he or she would have to face in the future.”
Something about Dr. Barnes’s words feels familiar. My stomach roils as I see a flash of my Testing roommate, Ryme Reynald. Her blond hair. A yellow dress. I try to hold on to the memory, but it vanishes like smoke as Dr. Barnes’s voice booms, “Removal now is preferable to the damage that could be caused later. If the president doesn’t understand that, she will have to be persuaded. We have come too far—”
The slam of a door cuts off the rest of his words. Taking a deep breath, I look around the corner to make sure he and MayLin are gone. Then I run.
Finally, when I reach the stadium at the far northwest side of campus, I slow my pace, gulp in air, and try to think.
In the distance I see people strolling through the late-winter grass. No one is looking my way. Still, I put a smile on my face and pretend my heart isn’t racing as I pull my jacket tight around me and walk across the lawn, all the while fighting the urge to let the tears burning my eyes fall.
I walk in the direction of my residence even though I can’t go there. Not yet. My friends will be packing. Celebrating. Getting ready for tomorrow, when we move to our new residences and begin the next phase of our studies. Only, after today—after seeing Obidiah’s unmoving body—I am not sure I can. I close my eyes and hear the words on the recorder talk of those who died. My friends from Five Lakes Colony: Malachi Rourke and Zandri Hicks. My roommate, Ryme Reynald. Will’s twin brother, Gill Donovan. I no longer can deny the truth of those whispered words. How can I stay and study, knowing so many have died or disappeared? To do so would be like saying their deaths don’t matter. That Dr. Barnes and his people have the right to select not only who leads but who lives and dies.
He doesn’t.
They don’t.
No one does.
Over a century ago, other leaders felt they had that right. We are still paying the price for their actions. Our current leaders should have learned from those mistakes.
Picking a shaded spot under a tree, I sink to the ground and pull my legs tight against my chest. The ground underneath me is cold, but the green buds on a nearby bush speak of the spring that is on the cusp of bloom. A bird whistles from a branch above my head. All around me are signs of a world on its way back from disaster and decay. Signs the University has chosen people with talent and skill who, with their knowledge, have brought hope to our country. Looking now at the healthy plant life, I have to ask—was it worth it? Yes, lives were saved, but what about the lives taken? History says that progress often requires sacrifice, but what kind of progress can we claim when it is built on the lives of the citizens it is supposed to aid?
I look at the sun’s position in the sky. In a matter of hours, the sun will set. While I have learned much about Tosu City during the past several months, I do not know it well enough to feel secure roaming the streets after dark. If I am to leave and have a chance at escape, I have to do it now.
I push to my feet and walk to the Early Studies residence. Sounds of laughter greet me. Shouts of happiness. I wave at a girl named Naomy as she races by. My hand shakes as I put the key in the lock and open my door. Somewhere deep inside, I must have always known I would run, because when I shut the door behind me, I know exactly what to bring.
Just like for The Testing, I allow myself one bag. Two changes of clothing. Two personal items and my undergarments. Boots that were handed down to me from my brothers. Socks. The pocketknife my father gave to me and my brothers years ago and Zeen’s Transit Communicator. Though they are unnecessary for survival, I ache to bring along the dried flowers. The vase. There is room in the bag for them, but that extra space must be used for food, water, and any items I find along the way that will aid in my survival.
As I slide the pocketknife into the side pocket of my bag, my eyes settle on a small stack of notes from Tomas filled with words of support and love. My fingers brush the top scrap of paper—paper that should have been recycled but that I could not bear the thought of destroying. I ache to talk to Tomas now. To beg him to go with me. To leave the University, our futures, and the shadows of The Testing far behind. Maybe the farther away we go, the easier it will be to bury the memories that threaten everything and to forgive. To rebuild the trust that once was real.
I jump at the sound of the doorknob turning behind me. “Hey, Cia. I know you’re in there. Open the door.”
Stacia.
The minute I turn the lock, she pushes through the door, strides into the room, and flops on my bed next to my opened bag. “Well, today has been interesting. Everyone is either celebrating or wallowing in the depths of despair. You’re smart to have cleared out for a while to avoid the emotional tidal wave. Considering this crowd is supposed to be the best and brightest, I’d have thought they’d have figured out how things work by now.”
The way Stacia is sprawled out with her hands tucked under her head suggests she plans on staying here for some time. Time I don’t have. But I can’t just ask her to leave. We’ve spent enough time together for her to realize such a request isn’t typical, and she’ll wonder why I made it. If I manage to escape, Dr. Barnes and his team might question those who had any knowledge of my plans. I don’t want Stacia to be punished for the choices I alone have made.
Tamping down my anxiety, I ask, “You’re not upset about being assigned to Medicine?”
Stacia shrugs. “I would be lying if I said I wasn’t upset at first. Over the past few months, I’d almost convinced myself I could control my future through hard work. I forgot what I learned growing up in Tulsa Colony. Control is an illusion. Only a handful of people have the ability to shape their lives and the lives of those around them. To become one of those people, I have to prove I can do whatever is necessary to succeed.” She laughs. “So I will.”
Her laugh makes me flinch. It’s cold and practical. Hard. Determined. Stacia is smart, but I’ve often wondered if it’s these other traits that helped her survive The Testing. I have to admire her ability to strip aside emotion and find the most direct solution to a situation, even if I don’t agree with her assessment. Guilt tugs at me at the idea of leaving her behind. But while part of me wants to ask Stacia to abandon the University and come with me, the words do not pass my lips. Stacia is not one to run from a challenge, even one that might result in her death.
For the next hour, Stacia speculates on what our class schedules will look like once we start our courses of study
and makes me promise to share everything that happens in the Government Studies residence. No doubt she thinks the information will come in handy when she has achieved the control she so desperately seeks. I make Stacia promise the same, even as the lie makes my insides curl. I will not be here to follow through, and if I want to escape without notice, I cannot even say goodbye.
By the time Stacia heads back to her own room, the sun is low in the sky. Danger will be harder to spot as the light fades, but I have no choice. It is time to go. I fasten my coat and slide my bag onto my shoulder. When I reach for the doorknob, I notice the bracelet peeking out from under my sleeve. The one-starred band that defines who the United Commonwealth Government and Dr. Barnes want me to be. I remove the silver bracelet from my arm and place it in the center of the bed. It is time to leave everything it represents behind.
Or it will be if I can find Tomas. When I get to his room, he doesn’t answer my knock. Thinking he must have gone to the dining hall without coming to get me, I leave the building and hurry across the grass. If I can find Tomas, I can convince him to come with me. It will be easier for the two of us to survive outside the city limits. Together we can get home.
So focused am I on finding Tomas that I never notice the person in the shadows of the gray stone Earth Science building until I hear a voice call, “Going somewhere?”
I spin and see Tosu official Michal Gallen standing thirty feet away. His shaggy brown curls have grown longer in the weeks since I last saw him. That, combined with the informal brown pants and billowy white shirt he wears today, makes him look more like a student than a graduate. Michal was the official who escorted me and the other Five Lakes Colony Testing candidates to Tosu City. For some reason, he chose to offer me assistance during that process, and once I was accepted to the University as a student, Michal found ways to bring news of my family. Both made me think he had my best interest at heart. But now that I know about Obidiah, I have to wonder if anything I believe is true.
Nodding, I say, “I need to grab a quick dinner so I can go back to the residence and pack. We’re all getting ready for tomorrow’s move.”