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Yes. When attacked, I will do what it takes to survive. But this . . .
“I can’t.” My legs tremble but my voice is firm. Strong. More in control than how I feel.
President Collindar walks unhurriedly across the room and takes a seat in the chair right next to the fire. “I will postpone the vote, but that will only delay the inevitable. If you are correct about Symon’s allegiance, how long do you think it will take before he incites the rebels to lead their own attack? What will happen then? Do you think Symon will allow any of the rebels or the citizens who have aided them to live? What will happen to the country if I am gone? Who do you think the Debate Chamber members will appoint to take my place?”
Dr. Barnes. If not him, someone he supports. The Testing will continue.
“Cia, I would prefer not to involve you in this, but sometimes a leader has to rely on the resources at hand. My staff has been infiltrated once that we know of. There is no doubt in my mind that where there is one spy there are more, which means the people in this building cannot be trusted. Neither can
the rebels.”
“The Safety officials—”
“Report to one of the names on that list. And there must be others Dr. Barnes knows will take up arms in his support. Otherwise he would not have embarked on this course of action.” She turns and stares at the fire as if looking for answers in the flames, and sighs. “I would attempt to execute this plan myself, but it would be impossible for my actions to go unnoticed, and I am no longer confident of whom I can trust. You, Malencia, are the only one I can be certain of, which is why I am forced to ask you to live up to the promise you have made as a future leader and take up this task. As long as Dr. Barnes remains in control of the University, the rebels will not put aside their agenda. Emotions are running high. The rebels are insisting on change. I have talked to a number of them already.”
I see a flicker of regret on the president’s face, but it is gone as quickly as it came. Then all I see is her resolve. “I have been told that citizens on the outlying areas of Tosu have been armed by Ranetta’s rebel faction despite my express wish for this not to happen. Symon assured me that those allegations are false and that my orders are being obeyed, but everything he’s said is suspect. We must assume there are citizens aware of the rebellion and ready to take up arms in support. When the rebels do attack, those citizens could take to the streets. Dr. Barnes’s forces will respond. People will be scared. Some will fight. More will die.”
Michal told me that the rebels were arming citizens. The president is right to fear what could happen with weapons in the hands of so many. The fear. The desperation to survive at all cost. But that might happen no matter what.
Shaking off the images, I say, “Killing Dr. Barnes and his top administrators might gain you control of The Testing, but people will panic when they hear that many government officials have died. There has to be another way.” When solving geometric proofs, often more than one path of logic can lead to the correct solution. Surely there must be a different route we can take now.
“The more we talk, the better I understand why Dr. Barnes chose you.”
Despite my own proximity to the fire, the president’s compliment makes me shiver.
“You are correct,” she acknowledges. “The death of several Commonwealth officials will be cause for concern. But that is far more easily dealt with than the alternative. Safety officials will be deployed in larger numbers. After a week, I can say that the person responsible for the attacks was killed when officials attempted to apprehend him. Personnel schedules and power allotments will return to normal. People will believe the crisis is over because they want to believe their world is safe.”
I try to imagine how I would feel if I were a Tosu City citizen who heard the president say a murderer that close to top government officials was no longer a threat. Would I believe the danger had passed and that life could return to normal?
Yes. Not because I was shown proof, but because I’d want to believe. The president’s plan might work. But only if someone were to perform the step that came before.
“Murder is wrong.” I’m amazed at how composed I sound, because inside my head I am screaming.
“Think of how different the world would be if someone had eliminated Chancellor Freidrich before she had Prime Minister Chae assassinated.”
The assassination of peacemaker Prime Minister Chae fractured the Asian Alliance and sparked the First Stage of War.
“Leaders are often forced to make determinations they find distasteful for the good of the people they serve. Asking you to help eliminate the leaders who champion the current mission of the University is the last thing I wish to do. I do not make this request lightly. But it is the best chance we have to avoid a path that will certainly lead to a far worse fate.”
President Collindar stands and crosses to me. She takes the folder from my hand, walks to the table, and picks up a pen. While she flips open the folder and writes something on one of the pages it contains, I swallow hard, close my eyes, and wish that I were back in Five Lakes. That I had never come to Tosu City or learned the secrets behind The Testing. War would still be looming but I would be unaware. The president would not have asked me to betray everything I have ever believed in order to fix what she cannot. That is not my job. Coming here and alerting her to the danger was supposed to pass the responsibility of keeping me, my brother, Tomas, and my friends safe to one who has been officially charged with leadership.
“If I thought I had a chance of successfully orchestrating this plan with my own team, I would. Perhaps I will have to attempt that as a last resort if you do not take up this task.” She places the folder back into my hands. “Throughout history, leaders have used targeted means to eliminate threats that, if allowed to remain unchecked, could cause far greater damage. When the United Commonwealth was founded, our leaders vowed we would do whatever was necessary to forward the country’s mission of revitalization and peace. That mission is now threatened. I’m asking you, Malencia Vale, to help keep our country and its purpose alive.”
The speech stirs my blood. Since I was little, my goal has been to follow in my father’s footsteps. To be selected for The Testing. To go to the University. To help my country. But this . . .
“Do not give me your answer now.” She takes one step closer and puts a hand on my shoulder. “I understand the difficult choice I have laid before you. I can hold off the rebels for at least a week. Two if I am lucky.”
So little time.
“Inside that folder is the list of those who need to be removed if The Testing is to end, along with information on each of them. Also, there is a room on the fifth floor that you might find useful in completing this task. I have written the entrance code on the top page.” The president squeezes my shoulder and then steps back. “I do not expect this to be easy. You may die in the trying. Even if you do not, there is a strong chance you will fail—although I would not ask this of you if I believed either to be the inevitable conclusion. If by the end of this week you have decided not to pursue this assignment, I ask that you send a message saying that the project is unsustainable.”
One week to decide.
“Regardless of what you choose, I warn you to be careful. Symon has indicated that members of the rebellion exist among the University students. They could expose you without realizing what they have done.” She walks toward the door. Hand on the knob, she looks at me. “Trust no one, Cia. It’s not just your life but also the lives of many others that depend on that.”
As she strides out I hear her say, “I think it is safe to say the young woman has now learned her lesson. I’ll be in my office if anyone else needs to meet.”
The door stays open as her footsteps fade. I know it is time for me to leave, but I am too stunned by what I have heard. Too overwhelmed by the task I have been asked to perform. I want to believe I imagined what just happened, but the folder in my hand belies that wish. My hands are cold when I open it and glance at the first page, which contains the code the president spoke of as well as the eleven names. No. Now there are twelve. Written at the bottom in the president’s strong block handwriting is the name Symon Dean. Below the name is a series of seven numbers and the words “I am counting on you.”
