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“No. I’m not going to leave knowing you’re still in danger.”
“Don’t worry about me,” he says with a hint of the self-assured tone I have always associated with my brother. “I can take care of myself. I have to go.”
“Zeen . . .” I whisper. As much as I want to speak his name again, I don’t dare.
Tears of frustration fill my eyes as I shove the device back into my bag and again head for the door. People will be starting to wonder why I am so late for breakfast. If Zeen is right, some of them might be rebels waiting for a chance to strike at any target, even me.
Two officials, one in red, the other in purple, stand at the base of the stairs as I reach the first floor and head down the hall to get breakfast. Only a handful of students are seated at the breakfast tables when I walk into the dining hall. During most meals it is noisy here, but now the room is quiet. Those who speak use hushed tones. Some watch me as I weave between the tables to the one where my final-year guide, Ian, sits along with Raffe. Most students keep their eyes on their plates. Enzo does not. As I walk by him I see concern and what looks to be a warning in his eyes.
Something has happened.
I try to catch Raffe’s eye as I slide into the seat across from him, but he does not look up from his plate of grilled egg bread and fruit. Ian passes me a platter of food, and I place a slice of bread and a piece of ham on my plate. The food tastes wonderful, but it is clear no one is enjoying the meal. One by one, the remaining students finish their breakfast, push back their chairs, and leave. “What’s going on?” I quietly ask Ian, who has remained in his seat.
“University officials have confirmed that Damone didn’t go home.”
“Do they think he ran away?” I ask.
Ian shakes his head. “Professor Holt seems to think he might still be on campus. The officials spotted blood behind our residence, and they’re concerned Damone might be injured and unable to find help. So she’s ordered a search of every building on campus, including this one. No students are allowed back in their rooms until the search is complete. We’ve been asked to confine ourselves to the common room or the labs or to wait outside until the officials are done.”
I think of the clothes I left in the abandoned house and the items that currently sit in my bag. If I had left any of them in my rooms, officials would be looking for me now. They would suspect what I know. Would they consider those objects a sign of treason? If so, I would be dead. Still, I am worried about what else they might find. Is there something in my rooms that would lead officials to question me or remove me from campus? I don’t think so, but it is impossible to be sure.
Anxiety bubbles inside my chest, making it hard to breathe. Trying to sound unconcerned, I say, “Enzo told me he saw Damone leave c
ampus on his bike. If that’s true, why is she searching the residence?”
Did Professor Holt not believe Enzo’s story? Or is the transmitter in Damone’s bracelet sending out a faint signal that shows he is somewhere nearby? Either way, I suspect this search isn’t just a method of looking for Damone. Professor Holt knows about the rebel students. This might be her way of causing anxiety and maybe stirring them to action so she can have them removed.
“She says she’s making sure all avenues to find Damone are explored, but I get the feeling she’s looking for something.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know.” But his eyes say something different. “At least one student has disappeared every year that I’ve been attending the University. This is the first search like this I’ve seen. Professor Holt must have a reason.” Ian’s tone warns me that more is going on here than is being said. Perhaps Professor Holt’s search has indeed spurred the student rebels to act on their own. “Also, until further notice, students are not allowed to leave campus for any reason. She has asked Dr. Barnes to post officials at the University gates to serve as a reminder to students who might otherwise forget.”
Extra Safety officials. A ban on leaving campus. Both will make aiding President Collindar more difficult if not impossible. I should feel relief that I now have a valid excuse for not being able to fulfill the president’s assignment. But I don’t. I feel cornered and helpless.
“When will we be allowed to resume our internships?” I ask. “There are things I’ve been asked to do.”
Ian pushes his plate away and turns toward me. “Whatever assignments you’ve been given can wait until this whole thing passes. I get the feeling things are going to be different soon. Just go to class, do your homework, and sit tight. Okay?”
His eyes hold mine. Just for a fraction of a second, but it is enough for me to know that there is a deeper meaning to his words. He is confirming what I have believed since I was first assigned to Government Studies and Ian offered me assistance. Ian is one of the rebels. Which means he must have weapons somewhere nearby. Is he concerned Professor Holt will find them? If so, he is good at hiding his apprehension. I wonder whether that would be the case if he knew the rebellion he follows is being undermined.
When Michal was transferred to the president’s office, he told me a friend would be near to watch over me. I believe Ian is that friend. If so, telling him what happened to Michal and warning him about Symon’s true purpose in creating the rebellion could make Ian an ally. But there is an equally good chance that his dedication to the rebel cause will make him discount what I say. Worse, he could report my words back to Symon or act as Zeen suggested and eliminate the threat he might think I pose to the rebel plan. The president told me that whom I put my faith in will affect not only my life but the lives of those around me. Knowing that, I find it impossible to decide. Do I take the chance of gaining another ally—one who might be able to help convince other rebels to ignore Symon’s directives—or wait to learn more?
For the first time, I find myself wishing that Ian had gone through The Testing with me. Knowing the choices he made during his Testing would help me now.
The thought shocks me. The Testing is wrong. Wishing that I knew what decisions Ian made during his Testing is wrong. And yet, despite the horrific nature of the tests, I think of what The Testing taught me about myself and about my fellow candidates. I understand that when pushed, I can shove back. That I am stronger and more resourceful than I ever thought possible. That my willingness to assume everyone believes in the values with which this country was founded and I was raised is flawed.
I think of Professor Holt and her statement that The Testing should be made even more strenuous. Of Dr. Barnes and his belief that The Testing’s purpose succeeds when the pressure of the tests causes a girl to take her own life. Of Symon, who has chosen to lead those who want change—boys like Ian and my brother—to kill even as he facilitates their own deaths.
Ian stands. “Are you done, Cia?”
I look down at the mostly full plate in front of me. But when I say, “Yes, I’ve had enough,” I know I am referring to so much more.
Chapter 6
THE SUN IS bright. The vibrant green grass looks cool and inviting as I stride across it to an unoccupied area not far from the bridge. I want to be close to the only exit from this area in case I have forgotten something in my room and safety officials come for me. I doubt I would be able to flee, but I won’t let them take me without a fight.
The two officials on the other side of the ravine watch me as I look for a spot where I can settle. Some students who have chosen to treat being banned from their rooms as a holiday from work play a game of catch not far from the weeping willow tree. Others sit in groups, quietly talking. A few, like me, have gone off on their own, reading from books they must have brought with them to the morning mealtime.
