A HAND REACHES out and wrests the gun from my hand. Another person grabs the bag off my shoulder and laughs. I know that laugh. Turning, I see a sneer spread across Griffin’s face as he drops my bag to the ground.
“You might want to be careful with that.” Dr. Barnes rises from behind the table and crosses toward me. “Ms. Vale may have one or two more tricks up her sleeve.” He reaches out and takes my gun from a third-year Government Studies student I have never spoken to. “Thank you for your assistance. Now, if you don’t mind waiting outside, Ms. Vale and I have matters to discuss. You’ll both be rewarded once our conversation is complete.”
Annoyance flickers across Griffin’s face as he stalks toward the door. The other boy follows. When the door clicks shut, Dr. Barnes picks my bag off the floor, walks back to his chair, and places the bag on the table. “Please, have a seat. I know you haven’t gotten a lot of rest in recent weeks. Y
ou’ve been quite busy, Cia. So busy, in fact, I was concerned something might happen to you before you had a chance to meet me tonight. That would have been a shame, since there’s much to discuss.”
He motions for me to sit in the black chair that is situated across from him at the table. The smile Dr. Barnes wears is familiar. It is filled with warmth and concern and is designed to elicit trust. His expression turns puzzled when I do not take a seat. “You did come here to talk to me, didn’t you, Cia?”
“I came here to kill you.”
“Of course you did.” His smile widens as he sets my gun down on the table in front of him. “And I intend to let you. Of course,” he adds, “you will still have to deal with the individuals outside if you succeed. I apologize for that, but I couldn’t take the chance of you killing me before we had this conversation.”
“You’re going to let me kill you?” Confusion, nerves, and fear make me laugh, although nothing has ever seemed less funny.
Dr. Barnes leans back in his chair. “You don’t believe me, Cia?”
“No.”
Now he laughs. “I suppose I don’t blame you, although do you really think you’d be standing here right now if I didn’t intend for you to complete your agenda? You’ve come a long way since first stepping into this building, but there’s still much for you to learn.”
I think of the lock that was disengaged downstairs, the lack of dishes and clothes at Dr. Barnes’s house, the papers and files in plain sight in his study, the explosion that burned his house, and the ease with which I crossed campus despite all the fighting going on. Even the guard outside who had the chance to fire at me before I shot him. While the plan that I embarked on was well thought out, I could not have made it this far without some kind of help. Help Dr. Barnes is now claiming he provided. Why?
“You’re right,” I say, shifting my gaze to the gun. While this room is small, the gun is too far away to reach before Dr. Barnes does. I’m not sure if Dr. Barnes’s nod of approval is for my decision not to take that risk or for my understanding of the help I have received. And it doesn’t matter, because he’s correct. We have to talk. I need answers that only he can provide. Once I have those, I will find a way to get the gun, because I do not believe for a moment that Dr. Barnes intends to die.
Crossing to the black high-backed chair, I take a seat. “I do have more to learn, Dr. Barnes. But somehow I doubt you and Professor Holt will allow me to return to class after everything that has happened.”
“Professor Holt would certainly stand in your way. She’s been suspicious of your abilities since you first arrived for The Testing. She was especially unhappy when you were passed through to the University despite her objections. She never understood how you received enough votes.” He gives me a pleased smile. “However, due to tonight’s activities, Verna is no longer a consideration. Neither is MayLin Chen. So they won’t be around to complain if you decide to continue your education. Then again, after everything you’ve been through, you may wish to leave Tosu City and return to Five Lakes. If so, I’m certain your family will be happy to see you.”
Hearing Dr. Barnes mention my family makes it hard to breathe, but I keep my emotions off my face. I will not give him the satisfaction of knowing that his verbal jab connected. Keeping my tone flat, I say, “You went to a lot of trouble to arrange this meeting. I doubt it was because you want to talk to me about whether or not I’d like to go back to my colony.”
“You don’t believe I’d allow you to return home?” He leans forward and rests his hands next to the gun.
“No.” I cannot take my eyes away from his fingers as they brush the butt. “I don’t believe you.”
“I have no reason to lie,” he says, wrapping his hand around the wooden handle. “Of course, I don’t expect you to take my word on that.”
Gun in hand, he rises and crosses the room to a small bench I failed to notice before. On the bench is a tray. Atop that tray is a glass filled with clear liquid. Dr. Barnes takes the glass with his free hand, walks over to the table, and places the glass in front of me. “That’s why I provided us with a drink you might remember from the last time we were in this room.”
As Dr. Barnes walks back to the other side of the table, I pick up the glass and study its contents. There is nothing to distinguish it from water. Not the look or the smell. It appears innocuous. But it could be the same liquid as the one I was required to consume during my interview, and I know looks are deceiving. Even after taking a serum that was designed to counteract the effects of the interview drug, I still felt a sense of euphoria once I drank it and the desire to tell those who questioned me everything they wanted to know. Thankfully, the serum allowed me to think before I answered and to control my responses. I do not have the benefit of that serum now.
“I’m not going to drink this.” I set the glass down on the table.
“And I’m not going to insist that you do. The drink is for me,” he says. “I’m just offering you the opportunity in case you doubt my claim about what’s in the glass.”
I’m confused. Is what he has to tell me so important that he would willingly consume the truth drug he once forced me to take? The one that, with Symon’s help, I beat. “How do I know you haven’t taken the serum that negates it?” I ask.
“You don’t.” Dr. Barnes leans back in his chair and nods. “You are always one to trust your instincts. What do you think?”
I don’t know what to think. This is another test—perhaps the last one I will ever face—and I’m not sure of the correct answer. None of what has happened tonight makes sense. Not the unlocked door, Dr. Barnes’s booby-trapped house, or his claim that he wants me to kill him. For these things to be true, Dr. Barnes must have always known what I’ve been doing. Nothing I’ve done has been in secret. But there have been no cameras. I disabled the tracking device in my bracelet. He couldn’t have planted something in my clothes because I have not always worn the same . . .
My eyes fall on the University bag that sits on the far edge of the table. I’ve rarely been without it since it was given to me after The Testing. The bag is constructed with strong material to prevent it from ripping. The bottom, especially, is thick to ensure the bag can hold all the books we have to carry around campus. At least that’s what I assumed. A bag. Like every other bag. Without memory of The Testing, I had no reason to question it when it was given to me. And once I did remember, I never gave it a second thought.
I put the glass back on the table and lean back in my seat. “Was The Testing bag designed to monitor our movements, too?”
“I’m impressed, my dear. You’re correct about this bag containing a device that allows me to better understand your daily activities, but the satchel you carried during The Testing did not. My staff believed the recorders in the bracelets were sufficient to obtain the information we needed. You proved them wrong then as you have here at the University. Just as I hoped you would.”
“You hoped?”