Font Size:  

The tension in the room ratchets up a couple notches. I tighten my hold on Tomas’s hand, which has to be uncomfortable for him, but he doesn’t complain.

“Part two is a series of hands-on examinations that will allow you to demonstrate your ability to transfer intellectual knowledge into practical use. Those who pass will be asked to participate in part three—an examination that will test your ability to work in teams and assess your teammates’ strengths and weaknesses. Finally, part four will test your decision-making and leadership abilities. Those who get high marks in all four sections of The Testing will then have a one-on-one evaluation with the selection committee. This final personality and psychological evaluation will help us determine who will move on to the University, where you will join with other outstanding minds to help restore the land and our country both to their former glory. This is a lofty goal, but from what I’m hearing about this class of candidates—especially those from colonies we haven’t seen in years—I’m certain you can achieve it.”

I see students in the rows in front of us looking around. For Malachi and Zandri. For me and Tomas. My roommate said everyone was interested in us because it was speculated that Five Lakes Colony was long dead. She would have mentioned if other colonies had been absent from The Testing. By singling us out, Dr. Barnes has most likely painted targets on our backs. Was it intentional? The polished quality of his speech tells me it was. Does he want to encourage the other students to trip us, or is he leveling the field so the others will not overlook us as teammates later?

Dr. Barnes hands the microphone off to a willowy woman whose red jumpsuit clashes with her bright orange hair. She introduces herself as Professor Verna Holt and says, “You will now be taken to your Testing rooms. All candidates have been assigned to groups based on your previous academic successes. The group you belong to is represented by the large symbol on your identification bracelet. When you see the symbol of your group on the screen behind me, please join the other members by the elevator banks. A Testing official will meet and escort you to your Testing room. I wish you the best of luck in your endeavors and look forward to working with you in the days and weeks ahead.”

There is the hum of a motor and a large white screen unfurls above t

he stage. A black heart symbol flashes. You can hear people murmur as the symbol registers. Their time has come. I see Nicolette tromp up the aisle and disappear out the door with the twenty or so members of her group. Several minutes pass. A few people whisper. I hold my breath, waiting for the next group to be called.

A triangle. Malachi and Ryme.

I spot Malachi’s small, slight body rise from a seat to our far left. His mouth is pursed in concentration or fear as he walks up the aisle. I give him a thumbs-up, but his eyes are plastered on the back of the girl in front of him and he doesn’t notice.

There are fewer whispers. More fidgeting as we wait. My heart keeps pace with the seconds ticking by. The screen flickers. Another symbol.

Mine.

Tomas sucks in air, and I remember. Ours. Though I am certain he will outdistance all of us on the tests, I am so glad he is coming with me. He is a touchstone from home. I will do better knowing he is near.

We rise and join the others in our group. I can’t help but notice that our group is much smaller than the others. Once we are in the hallway, I count. Ten. Half the size. Is this good or bad? The two Testing officials in their red and purple do not allow me the time to worry further. The blonde asks us to follow her. She heads down the hallway to the left and we follow. A dark-haired man brings up the rear.

The woman at the door instructs us to step inside and take a seat at one of the desks. The door is narrow. Tomas goes first. I enter next. Two steps inside and I stop walking. My feet are planted to the floor as bile climbs up my throat.

I know this room.

White walls.

White floors.

Black desks.

This is the Testing room from my father’s nightmares.

Chapter 6

I TAKE DEEP breaths. I force my legs to move. All the while I am wondering, If this room from my father’s subconscious is real, what else is? If my answers today don’t make the grade . . .

No. I yank my thoughts back to the here and now. Worrying about what comes next will not help me excel on this test. Breathing, focusing, relaxing—those are the things that allow my mind to work best. I start with the first. Deep and low. In and out. I finger the yellow pencil sitting on the desk and out of the corner of my eye see Tomas watching me with concern. Shaking my head, I smile to tell him not to worry. I’m fine. I will be fine.

While I wait for the test to begin, I take in the other members of my group. There is only one other girl in the room. She has long red hair and the fabric of her black dress is in perfect contrast with her pale skin. Her back is rigid, her eyes forward. The boys are no less focused. Two blonds. One redhead. Four with varying shades of brown. And Tomas. Several are of slight build, but the redhead in particular has muscles that speak of a life filled with activity. As I wonder briefly what colony he is from, a tall, bald man in purple walks into the room carrying a large stack of bound papers.

The tests.

Paper is precious in our community since so many trees were destroyed in the Seven Stages. All paper usage is carefully monitored in school. Once the paper has been used and is no longer needed, it is sent to Omaha Colony for recycling.

Silently, the Testing official circulates in the room, stopping at each desk, never once meeting any of the candidates’ eyes. The large booklet lands on the shiny black surface in front of me. The cover reads History. In the right corner is the design from my bracelet—the eight-pointed star with a lightning bolt. My fingers itch to open the cover and see what lies beneath, but none of the other candidates opens theirs. Heart pounding, I wait.

The Testing official reaches the front of the room. He does not introduce himself but says, “Complete the pages in front of you to the best of your ability. If you need a drink of water, raise your hand and water will be brought to you. If you need to relieve yourself, raise your hand and an official will escort you to the facilities and back. You have four hours starting now.”

He pushes a button on the front wall, which causes a small screen to descend from the ceiling. A timer. And the numbers are running backwards.

Our time has begun.

Fingers trembling, I open the booklet to the first page.

Question: Explain the First Stage of the War of the Nations.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com