The Institution: A Young Adult Dystopian Series (Sacrisvita Book 1)

by Dylan Steel

  “You see, class?” Ms. Pembergast turned and gestured at the building. “This is how the headmaster and I can be quite confident that this could only have been perpetrated by someone who has not fully completed their transition into the Institution.”

  Sage and the others turned to see what Ms. Pembergast was referring to. Aura gasped. Smeared across the bricks in blood-red paint was a message.

  Eprah must fall. Everyone is worthy. Sacrisvita.

  No one said a word. Sage’s eyes widened.

  “Now then. This is your final chance. Who did this?” Ms. Pembergast scanned her students’ faces and saw only shock.

  Sage thought she saw a flicker of doubt cross Ms. Pembergast’s face as she waited for one of her students to step forward, but her resolve returned quickly.

  “Alright, then,” she sighed deeply, “all of you will be required to work to clean this up and restore the building to how it was.”

  She shot a poisonous look at Pippa and Carnabel, stopping their brief groaning.

  “Unfortunately, the amount of work that this will require will drastically cut in to your afternoon lectures and evening free period over the next few weeks—and I don’t think I even need to tell you how this might impact your exams.”

  Sage felt her heart drop. She was already behind in her exam prep for a couple subjects, and she had intended to spend every spare moment of the next month studying.

  “I had planned to go over individual exam prep recommendations with you all today, but it seems all of our time will be spent differently now, so I see little point in that,” she continued.

  Rit piped up with an uncertain attempt at boldness. “That’s not fair! I wasn’t even with the others last night!”

  “It brings me no pleasure to punish the many for one, but such is the way it must be,” Ms. Pembergast shook her head. “I’m sorry, Rit, but you’re part of the class now. You’ll join the others in cleaning this up.”

  Tears welled in his eyes, but he bit his lip and said nothing. Aura gave him a slight, reassuring pat on his shoulder, but she kept her own eyes fixed on the ground.

  Ms. Pembergast motioned for them to follow again and led them back inside. They crammed inside a small closet. She rummaged through a set of boxes on a shelf and pulled out a stack of bumpy paper sheets.

  “Here,” she said, shoving them at Marnie since she was the closest. “Step one will be scouring the new paint off the walls. Come with me again.”

  She led them back down the hall until they reached one end of the graffiti.

  “Scrub with the rough side until the red paint disappears. Don’t worry if you remove paint below the red—you’ll be fixing that later anyways. If you finish one section, move on to another. And so on, and so on. Any questions?”

  “How long do we have to do this?” Finkel squeaked nervously.

  “Until it’s done, of course. Even if that means you have to work straight through your final examinations and all receive zeros,” she said menacingly.

  “No more questions?” She didn’t wait for a reply. “Good. I’ll be by to check on you periodically. Now get to work.” Ms. Pembergast turned on her heel and clicked down the hallway, leaving the students gaping after her.

  Sage only wasted half a second on shock. She turned to Marnie, pulled a piece of sandpaper off the top of the stack, and walked over to the wall and began scrubbing.

  Pippa joined her a moment later, and the rest of the class followed suit quickly.

  As she rubbed the paper back and forth, Sage began prioritizing what she still needed to study for the exam.

  “I think you need to turn that over.”

  Marnie’s voice broke the silence in the hallway and snapped Sage back from her thoughts. She looked at where she had been scrubbing the wall and moved the paper. None of the paint was missing, but she looked at her hand and realized that it was bright red. It began stinging.

  “Thanks,” she mumbled as she flipped the paper over and began scrubbing again, more gingerly this time since her hand was now throbbing.

  The paint began to slough off, but it was slow, painstaking work.

  When Ms. Pembergast came back to check on their progress an hour later, not one letter had been fully removed.

  ***

  The first couple weeks had been tortuously slow progress. By the time they’d cleaned the walls and begun repainting, the grass outside had turned green again, and the halls were filled with rumors about post-graduation assignments—not that Sage had seen or heard any of it. They hadn’t been allowed to go outside or talk to the other students.

  They had been fortunate enough to avoid having to restore the front of the building. A branch of the Office of Beautification had been called in almost immediately to set it right. Because it’s delicate, the brickwork, and you aren’t skilled enough to fix it, Ms. Pembergast had said.

  While it was true that they weren’t exactly skilled craftsman, Sage suspected that Eprah’s leadership simply didn’t want their prized Institution to be a beacon for the Lawless cause. With the words removed quickly and quietly from the building exterior, the rest of the city was free to remain in blissful ignorance of the whole affair.

  The students had quickly become accustomed to their new routine. Each of them carried a long, hollow stick with a small spherical sponge on the end. A large tub about four feet long and wide sat in the middle of the hallway, waiting for them to dip into it for periodic refills as they made their way across the hall.

  Sage dipped her stick into the tub and made her way back to the wall.

  A glob of paint flew into Sage’s face. “Ow!” Her paint stick clattered to the ground as she rubbed her eye and blinked.

  “Oh, uh, sorry,” Everett said halfheartedly.

  “Sorry?” Sage gritted her teeth. “That’s the fourth time you’ve done that today!”

  “So what—you think I’m doing it on purpose?” Everett narrowed his eyes at her.

  “I don’t know, maybe!” Sage shot back, taking a step towards him.

  “Oh, stop it, you two.” Pippa rolled her eyes and poked her paint stick in between them.

  Sage stepped back again. “Fine. But I still say it’s his fault we have to do this at all.”

  Everett glared at her.

  Pippa just shook her head and went back to painting.

  During their cleaning sentence, everyone had been blamed at one point or another. Usually, the awkward finger-pointing ended quickly after it started—someone typically vouched for a friend’s whereabouts when accused, and everyone seemed to have been accounted for the night of the vandalism.

  But Sage was convinced Everett had done it. She wasn’t quite sure why she thought so. Maybe it was the look on his face when they saw the messages for the first time, or maybe it was just because he moved infuriatingly slow during their cleaning sessions—that in itself was nearly unforgivable with the exam mere days away—but she was sure she could force a confession if she kept after him.

  Of course, he’d accused her right back, but even as a measure of self-defense, he didn’t have the same level of conviction. Fortunately for him, everyone else seemed to have accepted that they were being wrongfully punished and that the culprit wasn’t even in their class.

  “Excellent progress, Class.” Ms. Pembergast suddenly appeared in the middle of the hallway, causing Sage to jump and smear her line of paint.

  Ms. Pembergast’s nose twitched. She continued. “By the looks of it, you could be finished tomorrow. And not a moment too soon—the test is set for four days from now.”

  “Ms. Pembergast?” Rit started cautiously. “Will we have time to go over our individual test prep?”

  She nodded slowly. “Yes, but only if you really do finish by the end of tomorrow. I’m not sure how much good it will do you at this point, but it may yet be enough to help some of you.”

  Rit stared at the floor. Sage felt sorry for him—everyone did. He’d had the worst luck of all of them. His timing fo
r joining the class had been terrible, and if his experience had been anything like hers, it was unlikely that he’d been working much on exam prep during his Cleansing.

  “Keep it up, class,” Ms. Pembergast said. “I’ll be back later to help you put away your supplies and see if you’ve finished.”

  Sage didn’t even wait for her to start walking away before she had already turned back to her section and resumed painting. Finishing today was possible, and she needed to try. She needed everyone else to try too, but she wasn’t sure all of her classmates grasped the gravity of the exam.

  In her rush, she accidentally knocked her paint stick against Carnabel’s. Never one to turn down a fight, Carnabel shoved her paint stick forcibly back against Sage’s, causing her to stumble backward and fall into the tub of paint.

  “CARNABEL!” she shouted, sitting up. She snapped her mouth closed when she realized how nasty paint tasted.

  Sage was completely drenched. Somehow, she’d managed to keep the top bit of her hair above the level of the paint, but the rest of her had turned a creamy white. Sage could see that even Aura was laughing despite her best efforts to hide her mouth behind her hands.

  “What? You started it,” Carnabel sneered.

  Sage stood up and dragged her arm across her mouth. It didn’t help.

  “It was an accident!” Sage sputtered, paint flecks splattering against Carnabel’s face.

  “Sure. Ok.” Carnabel smiled sweetly. “So was that.”

  Not that anyone could tell, but under the paint Sage was glaring at Carnabel.

  It no longer seemed likely that they would finish painting today.

  11. THE EXAM

  Sage slipped back into her chair as the rest of the students filed through the door after her. Her heart pounded with anticipation. This was the third and final day of their exams. Only a few hours remained before her future was out of her hands.

  Finkel belched loudly. “Sorry,” he said to no one in particular as he grinned mischievously. “The beans…”

  The boys snickered. Carnabel grunted her disgust and rolled her eyes, turning a shoulder to him as she settled into her seat beside him.

  With only minutes left until the end of their lunch period, all the students were bent over their databooks for a final review. Sage leaned forward and dug her fingers into her hair in concentration. She frowned as she pulled another paint flake off her scalp.

  Sage looked up at the sound of their instructor walking in the door. She rolled the paint between her fingers and flicked it onto the ground. Ms. Pembergast shuffled her things as she settled in behind her desk. The room was filled with tense silence.

  “Alright, students,” Ms. Pembergast cleared her throat and stepped to the front of the classroom. “We’re almost done. In this final section, you will have a series of eight essay questions. You will be allotted half an hour per question—use the time wisely.

  “There is one more thing that has not been explained to you yet,” she continued. “You may have noticed that the master timer on your databooks is set with extra time. Each of you will step into the hallway with me for a brief individual oral examination as your classmates work on their essays.

  “There is, of course, to be absolutely no talking or test sharing during that time, and as I’ve stated before, your bracelets will ensure that you do not break these rules. Should you choose to violate these conditions, you will forgo the rest of your examination,” she said with a raised eyebrow. “And since this portion of the exam is weighted heavily in your final score, I would seriously advise against that.”

  Sage glanced down at the main timer. Sure enough, there was an extra half hour. Her stomach knotted.

  “Your databooks will instruct you when to come see me. Everett, I believe you’re first.”

  He looked down at his databook and then back up, nodding.

  “Any questions?” She paused. “No? Alright, then. Everett, come with me. Everyone, best of luck. You may begin as soon as the questions appear.”

  Everett clenched his jaw and followed Ms. Pembergast into the hallway. Sage thought he looked a little paler than usual. A moment after the door clicked closed behind them, the timers on Sage’s databook began to count down, and the first question appeared at the top of the screen.

  What reasoning did the Original Five use to enact and justify the System of Worth? Were they correct in this? Why or why not? Give your honest opinion.

  Sage was taken aback. In all her time at the Institution, she’d never heard anyone suggest that the decision of the Original Five had been anything other than correct. The question was oddly worded.

  She shook her head slightly and thought back to her first Cleansing. The Original Five were trying to restore order. The System of Worth was fair and efficient. Of course, they had to be correct. Sage began writing.

  The timers continued to tick off the minutes as Sage scribbled across her databook.

  Twenty-four minutes, thirty-eight seconds.

  Doubts began to creep into her mind. Would her words sound too perfect, too rehearsed? If the Institution wanted them to be honest, should she say that she was confused? That she wasn’t really sure Eprah should use the System of Worth? Should she tell them that she still wondered if there were more to her parents’ death than she’d been told?

  Seventeen minutes, eleven seconds.

  She exhaled and stretched her wrist. She lifted her head and saw Pippa writing furiously beside her. As she glanced back, she noticed even Carnabel seemed more focused than she’d ever been. She turned back to her databook and continued writing.

  Six minutes, nineteen seconds.

  Sage continued writing frantically. She remembered her second Cleansing. She remembered how she’d been treated when she’d expressed her honest opinion before. The Institution—Eprah—they didn’t want her honesty. They wanted her. And they wanted her trust.

  Twenty-one seconds.

  As she put her pen down, she heard a shoe rapidly tapping behind her. She glanced behind her and saw Marnie biting her lip and scribbling quickly as the timer made its way to zero.

  Sage turned back to her databook. The secondary timer flashed zero while the master timer paused. A message popped up on her screen.

  Sage Indarra, it is your turn for the interview portion of the exam. Please leave your databook on your desk and make your way to the hallway.

  The door opened, and Everett walked back into the room. He avoided eye contact with Sage as he brushed past her. When she reached the door, she paused and took a deep breath before pushing it open.

  Ms. Pembergast was settled in on a chair that had somehow appeared since the exam had started. She motioned Sage to stand in front of her as she recited her script.

  “Alright, Sage, this is the interview portion of your exam. The discussion we will have is unique to you and as such should not be discussed with your classmates even after the exam is over.

  “We will get through as many questions as time allows, but I don’t want you to feel like you need to rush your answers. The number of questions you answer has no bearing on how you are scored in this section. However,” she said, looking down her nose, “honesty is very important in this section. Understood?”

  Sage nodded solemnly.

  “Alright, then. Let’s begin.” Ms. Pembergast leaned forward and stared straight into her eyes. “How did your parents die?”

  Sage’s jaw dropped open. How did this have anything to do with whether or not she was prepared for her classes next year? She was surprised to feel tears forming and quickly blinked them back. Her instructor was studying her face intently.

  “Well,” Sage began slowly, “I think they died because they did a lot of bad things, and they finally ran out of Chances.”

  “Do you really believe that?” Ms. Pembergast asked.

  Sage frowned. “How else could they have?”

  Ms. Pembergast seemed to find that answer acceptable and didn’t prod further. She glanced down at her
databook and read off the next question.

  “What is your opinion of the Institution?”

  Sage furrowed her brow in confusion. What was she getting at with these questions?

  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Just say whatever pops into your head, dear. There are no right or wrong answers right now.”

  “Ok,” Sage nodded, still unsure of exactly how she was supposed to answer. “I think—I used to not like it.” She hesitated. “But I’ve gotten a lot more used to it now, and it’s not so bad anymore. I’ve learned a lot—at least, I hope I have. And I’ve made friends here, and I never really had any before.”

  Ms. Pembergast smiled.

  “And the friends you’ve made, how do they feel about the Institution?”

  Sage shrugged. “Mostly, I think they feel the same. We’re all here to learn and do our best here so that someday we can contribute to Eprah in the best way possible.”

  “Mostly? Is there anyone specifically who doesn’t feel that way?”

  She frowned. “I don’t think so…”

  This strange line of questioning continued until the timer was almost finished counting down. Sage felt like she was being poked at from all angles, being examined for blemishes. Whether her instructor found any flaws or not was unclear.

  “Ah, well, that concludes our time. You may go back to your desk now and continue your essay section. Remember, no talking during the exam, and no sharing the details of this interview with the other students. Best of luck, Sage.”

  Numb, Sage opened the door. She was vaguely aware of Pippa passing by as she made her way back to her desk.

  As she slipped into her seat and heard the classroom door click closed again, she noticed the timers begin to count down. She blinked hard a couple times and shook her head slightly.

  When you graduate from the Institution, you will be entrusted with the great task of enforcing the laws of Eprah. Suppose that one day you are out with a friend, and that friend is asked a question by a government official. You know your friend is lying when she answers, but the government official does not know this. What do you do? Explain.