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Not for the first time, I wish my father were here to talk to me. Almost three decades ago, he attended the University. Growing up, I asked hundreds of questions about his time here. Rarely did he answer them. Back then, I assumed his silence was to keep my brothers and me from feeling pressure to follow in his footsteps. Now I’m forced to wonder if something more sinister lay behind his secrecy.
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There is only one way to find out.
The three of us climb the steps. When we reach the front door, Tomas stops and asks for a moment alone with me. Stacia sighs, warns me not to be late, and stalks inside. When she’s out of sight, Tomas brushes a hair off my forehead and peers into my eyes. “Did you sleep at all last night?”
“Some.” Although with sleep comes the nightmares that hover just out of reach when I wake. “Don’t worry. Being your study partner means I can answer questions no matter how tired I am.”
While other students used their free time to relax or explore the United Commonwealth capital, Tosu City, Tomas and I spent all our spare moments with our books under a tree or in the library when the cold weather drove us inside. Most of our classmates assumed Tomas and I pretended to study in order to be alone. They don’t understand my fear of what might happen if I do not pass this exam.
Tomas gives my hand a squeeze. “Things will get easier once we’ve been given our designated areas of study. You’re a shoo-in for Mechanical Engineering.”
“Let’s hope you’re right.” I smile. “While I’d love to work with you, the idea of being assigned Biological Engineering scares the hell out of me.” My father and brothers are geniuses at coaxing plants to thrive in the war-scarred earth. Revitalizing the earth is an important job. One I admire. I might even be happy to consider it, if I didn’t kill every plant I touched.
“Come on.” Tomas brushes a light kiss on my lips and tugs me toward the steps. “Let’s show them how smart students from Five Lakes are.”
The hallway of the Early Studies building is dim. Only the sunshine that creeps in from the glass panes in the front door lights our way. Tosu City has strict laws governing electricity usage. While the production and storage of electricity are more robust than in Five Lakes, conservation is encouraged. During the daytime, the University only directs electricity to labs or classrooms that require extra light for the day’s lesson. At night, however, the University has a much higher allotment of power than the rest of the city.
The second-floor examination room is well illuminated in honor of today’s test. The lights make it easy to see the tension etched in my classmates’ faces as they sit behind black desks, poring over their notes, hoping to cram one last fact that could make the difference between the futures they want and whatever else our professors might decide.
One final student arrives. I take a seat at an empty desk in the back. Tomas slides into the desk to the right of mine. I put my bag on the floor and glance around the room. Twenty of us. Thirteen boys. Seven girls. The future leaders of the United Commonwealth.
I am about to wish Tomas luck when Professor Lee arrives. For the past several months, Professor Lee has served as our history instructor. While most of the University teachers wear sober expressions, Professor Lee has kind eyes and a warm smile, which is why he’s my favorite. Today, instead of the faded brown jacket he favors, our instructor is wearing a ceremonial purple United Commonwealth jumpsuit. The room goes silent as Professor Lee walks up and down the rows of desks. On each desk he drops a booklet of paper and a yellow pencil. I run my hand over the image in the corner of the booklet’s cover. A lightning bolt. My symbol. Given to me in The Testing.
Professor Lee asks us not to open the booklet until further instruction is given. The booklet is thick. Back at Five Lakes, paper is harder to come by, so we use it sparingly and make sure to recycle every page when we are done. Here in Tosu City, learning takes priority over rationing.
My fingers toy with the pencil, rolling it back and forth across the black desk surface. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Tomas watching me with a concerned expression. Suddenly, I’m in a different room. Eight students. A different male official dressed in ceremonial male purple. Eight black desks. Bright white walls instead of gray. Six boys. Only two girls in the room, one of whom is me. Tomas gives me the same worried look as I finger a pencil. The booklet in front of me is marked with the same lightning bolt, only this time, it is surrounded by an eight-pointed star. My symbol surrounded by the symbol of my group for The Testing.
The room in my memory disappears as Professor Lee’s deep voice announces, “Congratulations on completing the basic studies required for all University students. Today’s test, combined with evaluations from your professors, will determine which field of study your skills are best suited for. Tomorrow, a list will be posted with your test results, as well as which field of study you have been directed into: Education, Biological Engineering, Mechanical Engineering, Medicine, or Government. All five fields of study are necessary to continue the revitalization of our land, our technology, and our citizens. While each of you has a preferred choice, we ask you to trust us to slot you into the career path that best suits the needs of the country. Do not attempt to guess which questions on the examination affect direction into a specific field of study. Any students with questionable test results will be given a failing grade and Redirected from the University student roster.”
Professor Lee scans the room to make sure the impact of his words is felt. I can hear my heart hammer in the silence.
Finally, he continues. “Answer each question to the best of your ability. Do not give answers beyond the scope of the question. We are interested in learning not only how much you know but how well you comprehend the question being asked. Answers that go beyond the confines of the question will negatively affect your test results.”
I swallow hard and wonder what the negative effect might be. A lowered score or something more?
“You will have eight hours to complete this examination. If you need a break for food, water, or to relieve yourself, please raise your hand. A University official will escort you to the break room. If at any time you exit this room, you are not to leave the building or speak to anyone other than your escort. Either action will result in a failing grade and Redirection from the University. When you have completed the examination, raise the test booklet. I will collect the booklet and escort you to the door. What you do after that is up to you.” He gives us a knowing smile before pushing a button on the wall behind him.
A small screen descends from the ceiling. Red numbers are displayed on the screen. Professor Lee pushes another button and says, “The eight-hour testing period starts now.”
The numbers begin running backward, telling us how much time we have remaining to complete the examination. Paper rustles as test booklets are opened. Pencils are picked up. The examination to determine the direction of the rest of our lives has begun.
The first question makes me smile. What is the Means Value Theorem? Please provide the formal statement and a proof in your explanation.
Calculus. Something I’m good at. I answer the question quickly, give the formal equation for the theorem, and provide a proof as to how it works. Briefly I wonder if I should also explain how the theorem applies to vector-valued functions or how it is used for integration. But then I remember Professor Lee’s instructions. We are only supposed to provide the information requested. Nothing more. Nothing less. For a moment I wonder why, but then I decide it is because leaders must choose their words with care. In order to prevent conflicts, they must be certain their exact meaning is understood by the people who follow them. With that kind of responsibility facing those of us who make it to graduation, it is not surprising University officials wish to test that ability.
I reread the question, decide my answer is complete and within the scope, and then move on to the next. My pencil flies across the page as I explain the Four Stages of War various governments inflicted upon one another and on the earth. I describe the next Three Stages, in which the earth fought back against the chemicals and other destructive forces unleashed upon it. Earthquakes, windstorms, floods, hurricanes, and tornadoes swept across the globe, destroying in a matter of years what took humans centuries to create. The damage that for the past one hundred years the United Commonwealth has worked hard to repair.
My writing fills the
pages. Chemistry. Geography. Physics. History. Music. Art. Reading comprehension. Biology. Each question brings a new subject. A different skill set. Most I can answer. My breath catches as I leave one blank. I am not certain what the question is asking for or what the answer might be. I hope I will have time to revisit it when I complete the rest. If not . . . My mind starts to drift to the words spoken on the Transit Communicator recording. The fate suffered by candidates of The Testing who dared answer a question wrong.
No. I pull my thoughts back. Worrying about the past won’t help. I can only deal with the present.
According to the clock, I have just shy of four hours to finish my test. I roll out my shoulders and realize how stiff I am. Between tension and inactivity, my muscles are beginning to protest. My empty stomach is adding its complaints. While fear of failure urges me to press on, I can hear my mother’s voice saying a brain and body need fuel to function at peak performance. I don’t want to run out of time, but running out of energy and focus would be even worse.
I glance around the room. Every desk is occupied. No one else has taken a break. Will leaving the room to refuel be considered a sign of weakness by University officials? I scan the room for signs of cameras and find none. But just because I can’t spot them doesn’t mean they aren’t there.
