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“How can you be so sure?” Professor Holt demands.
“Because, my dear professor, they’re all going to die.”
Calm. Rational. The same tone my father employs to tell my brothers and me to help our mother with dinner. People killed. For believing something should change. Is this man talking about members of Symon’s rebellion? He must be. Their efforts have not gone unnoticed, and now some of them are in mortal danger. As I will be if this man or Professor Holt discovers me listening to their conversation. Michal needs to be warned so he can pass the news along to Symon.
I swallow hard and wrap my arms around myself as the male voice lets out a low chuckle and says, “Trust me, professor. They’ll be taken care of. Your precious University program will continue exactly as Jedidiah and you planned.”
“You’d better be right. The president—”
“The president will not be in power much longer. She just doesn’t know it. You don’t have to worry. Now, let me escort you to your vehicle. The next time we speak, I promise you will see the results we have all been working for.”
I let out a sigh as the footsteps fade. The lights blink out. A door slams shut. I force myself to sit quietly and count to one hundred, in case either of them comes back. When no one does, I grab the counter and use it to support my shaking legs as I stand. Part of me wants to search the building to see if it contains something the rebellion could use, but I doubt that they would leave anything incriminating out in the open, and the nearness of dawn makes me head for the exit.
I look through the window to make sure no one is in sight, yank open the door, and run. When I reach my bike, I jerk it from its hiding place, throw the bag over my shoulder, and ride. Pushing the pedals. Using the terror in my veins to go faster.
When my bicycle is returned to the shed, I hurry to my rooms before the rest of the residence stirs. I turn the lock behind me, lean against the door, and start to shake. On trembling legs, I walk to the bathroom with the hope that a hot shower will ease the chill running through my body. I sit on the floor of the shower and let the hot water run until my skin is pink and the room filled with steam. When I’m dry, I pull on my sleeping garments, climb under the cove
rs, and close my eyes tight, hoping to leave the cold fear in my veins behind.
When I wake, the room is bright with light. I glance at the clock. Lunch was long ago. I should get up. I need to find Tomas to formulate a plan. But my eyes are grainy and my muscles ache. So instead, I eat an apple from my bag, curl up on the bed, and doze until dinner. Even after sleeping all day, I have to force myself to climb out from under the covers and get dressed. At dinner, I do my best to laugh, talk, and eat just like everyone else. When Ian teases me about being so overworked I don’t have time to come to meals, I laugh and admit I was up so late working that I slept most of the day. The words are easy to say since they are true.
More than once, I catch Griffin and Damone looking in my direction, but I pretend not to notice. When the meal is over, I use work as an excuse to go back to my rooms. I ache for the comfort of Tomas’s arms, but I remember Griffin’s and Damone’s watchful eyes. If I go find him, someone will report that to Professor Holt and Dr. Barnes. Tomas would end up in danger. Instead, I stay where I am, stare out the window, and watch the sky go from light to dark.
I make excuses as to why it is best for me to stay in my rooms instead of pedaling into Tosu City or to the airfield tonight. I don’t want to go alone. I don’t have a flashlight. My muscles aren’t conditioned enough to make the journey quickly. I don’t know if Michal will be in the president’s office, and I don’t have the exact coordinates of the airfield. All are true, but deep down, I recognize the real reason I cannot make the trip.
I am scared.
The Testing put my life in danger. Though I still don’t have complete memories of that time, I know I faced the fear. I survived. I should be able to do the same now. But this fear is different.
During The Testing, I had no choice but to face the terror Dr. Barnes’s challenges evoked. Last night, for the first time, it was my choice and my choice alone that put me in the path of danger.
Part of me thought I had accepted the possibility that I might be given the ultimate punishment by Dr. Barnes and his team of officials.
I was wrong.
I want to live.
As important as it is to put an end to The Testing and Dr. Barnes’s current University program, there’s a group already working toward that goal. People like Michal, who are older, more experienced, smarter. They know this city and the people who inhabit it better than I. They don’t need help from a first-year University student. Any information I might find can also be found by Symon and his team. And even if I wanted to try, it’s too late for me to make a difference. As much as I’d like to think I’m important, I’m not. I’m too inexperienced. Too untried. Too young.
Technically, my school graduation in Five Lakes marked me as an adult. But huddled on the bed with my arms wrapped tight around my body, I have never felt less worthy of the distinction. As much as I always wanted to believe my father when he said I am capable of doing anything, I know I am not. I cannot deliberately make a choice that could end my life.
I am not a leader.
I am a coward.
My sleep is filled with strange dreams. My muscles feel heavy when I wake. My appetite is gone, though I force myself to eat before biking to the president’s office. Since it is Sunday, the office hallways are mostly empty. I drop my report onto the president’s desk and immediately return to campus. No detours. No notes warning Michal and the rebels of possible danger; no stopping at Tomas’s residence to tell him what I know. No opportunity for Dr. Barnes to accuse me of behavior that marks me for Redirection.
When the next week starts, I go to classes, turn in assignments, and take tests. My teachers praise my work. I receive high marks, as do the other members of our study group. Everyone asks questions about my internship, especially those who have been assigned to internships within the Central Government Building. Despite the weight of my fear, my answers are upbeat. Yes, I met the president. Yes, I already turned in my first assignment. No, I have not heard the rumor about the change in law the president will propose on the Debate Chamber floor.
I feel Tomas stiffen next to me as I answer the last question, and when I go upstairs into the stacks to find a book about the former European Union, he follows.
“What change in law is the president going to propose?”
“I don’t know.”
Tomas put his hands on my shoulders. “The others might believe that, but they don’t understand you the way I do.” His fingers trace the outline of my jaw. “I know when you’re angry or scared. Right now you’re both. I can’t help you unless you tell me why.” When I still don’t answer, he drops his hand and asks, “Is it me?”
“No. It’s . . .” The words die in my throat as I stare into the eyes of the boy I have trusted with so many of my secrets and my heart. Do I trust him now? Yes. Despite all that has happened, I believe in him. I love him.
