The Testing

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The Testing Page 72

by Joelle Charbonneau


  “That’s why you doctor types need biological engineers to help you come up with the new drugs.” Tomas smiles.

  She smiles back. “Well, I hope Enzo’s getting some of this right now.” She looks at me. “I really did think I was doing the right thing by testing him. I never thought he’d break into your room and get hurt. Otherwise, I would have warned you first.”

  Her regret is for causing me trouble. Not for the injury to Enzo but for choosing a path without checking with me first. She believed I was taking too long to make a decision and did what she thought was necessary for us to succeed. I will have to remember that as we move forward. To keep Stacia from making decisions on her own, especially ones I do not agree with, I will have to make choices with more speed. If we come through this, I doubt I will ever be able to call Stacia my friend again. But just because I personally cannot feel comfortable with her doesn’t mean she is incapable of doing what I need her to accomplish. If I have to be a stronger leader to make her do it, then that’s what I will do.

  Straightening my shoulders, I say, “We have two hours until Will sets off the first explosion. We need to be ready. We need to decide which team—”

  “No, we don’t,” Raffe interrupts. “My house will be harder to find for someone who doesn’t know the area. Besides, I need to be the one to deal with my father. Tomas and Stacia will take the other two targets. There are several landmarks that will help you know you’re on the right track.”

  For the next ten minutes, Raffe gives Tomas and Stacia directions to their two targets. Professor Chen’s house is near a small pond. Professor Holt lives only three blocks away in a large house surrounded by a tall wooden fence.

  “Professor Holt never travels anywhere on foot. If her skimmer is parked in front of her house, you’ll know she’s home. If you can find the key to the skimmer, use it. Safety officials won’t stop a University vehicle.”

  Tomas and Stacia ask many questions. I try to hand the Transit Communicator over to Tomas, but he shakes his head and says I need it to connect with my brother. Tomas says that if he and Stacia need help, they will send a message for Raffe. His knowledge of the city is more useful than the Communicator, which can’t tell them what landmarks to look for.

  It is six-forty by the time our bags are packed, plans have been coordinated, and Stacia and Tomas feel confident they can navigate the city streets quickly. I hold the Transit Communicator, hoping to hear from my brother. Instead, the message light on the pulse radio blinks to life. Will. The first charge is in place and ready to fire. Time for us to go.

  Raffe and Stacia walk to the kitchen to get their bikes as I stare at the letters for my family that sit on the floor. When I look up, Tomas hasn’t moved. He just looks at me. The silence stretches between us. In a few minutes we will separate. Once that happens, there’s a chance we might not be together again.

  “I love you.” I cross over to him and look up into the face that is so dear to me, memorizing the curve of his jaw and the shape of his eyes. Standing beside him, I am struck all over again by how tall he is. How safe he makes me feel. I cling to that feeling as I reach out and take his hand. He stiffens but does not pull away. And when his fingers tighten around mine, I feel complete.

  “I love you too,” he says. The anger is gone. Only concern remains. “Stay safe.”

  “We’ll see each other soon,” I promise as we walk outside.

  The sun is fading as we wheel our bikes out of the back door and around to the street. A child playing in a yard down the block sees us and runs up the stairs and inside. I look at the Communicator in my hand. Zeen still hasn’t contacted me. Is he alive? Has he killed Symon? Have the rebels started a search for him or are they even now spreading out among the Tosu City streets, waiting for a sign to begin their attack? Worry gnaws my heart, but there is nothing I can do but hope he is safe and focus on what must be done.

  I climb onto my bike. My gun is in my jacket pocket. Tomas takes my hand as the four of us stand on the road, waiting. I glance at the house next to us and in the fading light see the symbol etched on the stoop. Two lightning bolts. Two teams. The end of ignorance. The beginning of hope.

  I glance at the watch on Raffe’s wrist. Five minutes until seven.

  I see a door to one of the houses open a crack. Part of me considers waving so they’ll know we aren’t threatening, but I understand that showing they have been spotted will only cause more anxiety. So I keep my eyes focused on the time.

  Four minutes.

  Three.

  Two.

  Somewhere to the west there is a rumble. The signal that the rebellion—the one Dr. Barnes never intended to truly exist—has begun.

  Chapter 16

  I LOOK DOWN at our joined hands and then up at Tomas as I try to memorize everything about this moment. We got through The Testing together. To succeed now we have to part.

  “Are you ready?” Raffe whispers.

  I swallow hard and after one more moment force myself to let go of Tomas’s hand. “Keep your radio close. Leave a message if you’re in trouble or if you’ve finished one of the tasks.”

  Tomas and Stacia nod and point their bikes to the north. I watch them ride down the block as I press the Call button on the Communicator to tell Zeen we are starting our part. When the two of them ride to the left and disappear from view, I turn my bike and head in the opposite direction, trying not to think about what might happen to Tomas.

  Raffe leads the way. As the shadows lengthen, we zigzag around potholes, turn west, and keep riding. I catch sight of the white markings on a skimmer door in the distance. The vehicle belongs to a Safety official. But it never slows or turns in our direction. Whatever distraction Will has provided is enough to keep the skimmer pointed toward the west.

  Raffe continues the fast pace. We spot another Safety skimmer in the distance and slow down. It, too, passes without incident. I wonder if Zeen is still at the rebel base and whether Tomas and Stacia have avoided the patrols as Raffe turns down the next street. This one is filled with large houses painted pale shades of blue or gray with white trim that shines bright even in the dimming light. Each structure sits on a plot of grass that is a healthy shade of green. The trees here are young but grow straight and true. Down the block kids race around a lawn, playing tag. Someone yells for them to stay close to the house.

  A door opens to one of the blue houses. Raffe waves at the elderly woman who steps out the front door onto the porch and then looks at me as the lady waves back. “That’s Mrs. Haglund. She’s not wearing her glasses, so most likely she hasn’t the slightest idea who I am. Even if she does, she’s hard of hearing. I doubt she has a clue what’s going on in Tosu or that Safety officials are looking for us. My parents’ house is this way.”

  We turn down another block. The houses here are even larger than the ones we just passed and are more widely spaced, so that each one has an expanse of grass and trees on every side. Raffe stops as we reach the third house. He gets off his bike and starts wheeling it up a wide walkway that runs alongside the blue structure made distinctive by the large white pillars that frame the front door. He walks with his shoulders straight. His gait is unhurried. It’s as if he belongs here. Which I suppose he does. I try to mimic his behavior as we lean our bikes up against the rear wall of the house.

  “My father is typically in his office at this time of night.”

  “What about your mother?” I ask.

  “Once we all graduated, my father decided that they no longer needed to use power after the designated hours the rest of the city follows. So she goes to a friend’s house after dinner and doesn’t come home until well after nine. They’re the only two who live here. We should have time to do what needs to be done.”

  Raffe glances at his watch. Seven-twenty. Ten minutes until the next explosion is set to go off. I check the pulse radio. No messages. Are Tomas and Stacia standing at the back door of Professor Chen’s house right now? Is Tomas turning the handle and ste
pping inside a kitchen as we do? Raffe closes the door behind me, reaches into his bag, and pulls out his gun. I engage the recorder and hand it to him. Nodding, he slides it into his pocket and then waits until I clutch my own gun before moving forward. I follow. Through the kitchen into a dark hallway that opens into a large living area.

  Every step we take echoes in my head. I listen for sounds that Raffe’s father is home, but aside from our breathing and my pounding heart, I hear nothing. Raffe leads me down another darkened hall. He doesn’t turn on the flashlight as he moves confidently toward a closed door, beneath which a sliver of light glows. I hear papers rustling and ignore the way my muscles tense as I think through the strategy Raffe and I discussed. When we reach the door, Raffe touches my arm. I feel around the wall for the door he said was just outside his father’s office.

  There. I find the handle, turn it, and slip inside a small bathroom. I leave the door open so I am ready to act if necessary, and wait for Raffe to take the next step. My breathing comes fast as I hear a handle shift, a door creak open, and Raffe say, “Hi, Dad.”

  “Raffe.” In the deep voice I hear surprise and relief. “Verna said . . . well, it doesn’t matter now. I’ll contact her and let her know that you’re here and not off somewhere causing trouble with those colony students.”

  “What kind of trouble?” Raffe asks.

  “It’s not important. What’s important is that you’re here and that Verna and Jedidiah will see for themselves that you aren’t involved in this mess. Of course, you should have known better than to leave campus when you’re forbidden to do so. Your lack of judgment has caused people to question your loyalty. Do you know how that reflects on me?”

  “I know where my loyalties lie.”

  “Be that as it may, Raffe, you can’t just assume that my reputation will protect you from the consequences of your actions. I will not interfere with whatever punishment Dr. Barnes requires for this visit.”

  “I didn’t expect you would. After all, you didn’t help Emilie. Why would I think you’d help me?”

  “Your sister had to take the examination on her own. There was nothing I could do to help her pass.”

  “You knew she would fail and you let her take the test anyway.”

  “The rules—”

  “Dr. Barnes was prepared to break the rules to keep Emilie from taking the entrance exam because he knew what we all did. That Emilie not only didn’t want to attend the University, she didn’t belong there. I heard him make the offer. You turned him down. Where is Emilie now, Dad?”

  The question hangs in the air. When Official Jeffries answers he sounds less confident. Warier. “You know where your sister is. She was assigned to a job in Five Lakes Colony.”

  I hear Raffe laugh. The sound is devoid of humor and makes my blood run cold. “Are you aware that two of the students you were worried about me leaving campus with are from Five Lakes? Until they were selected for The Testing, they’d never met anyone from Tosu City.”

  “They were mistaken.”

  “No, they weren’t. Dr. Barnes offered to allow you to remove Emilie because he was worried you couldn’t live knowing what the consequences would be if she failed. What are those consequences?”

  I hear the sound of a chair scraping against the floor. A loud slam. Scuffling feet and the shatter of glass. I step into the hallway but I don’t move toward the room—not yet. Raffe told me that he would call for help if he needed it and that I wasn’t to come in otherwise. His father would never talk about the Redirection of Testing candidates and unsuccessful University applicants around me. The wall trembles as something heavy is slammed against it. Then everything goes still.

  Through the open door I can see an overturned armchair and the corner of a desk. I hold my breath and listen. Nothing. I take one step closer when I hear Raffe ask in a low, angry voice, “What happened to Emilie? Where is she?”

  “She’s doing important work to help revitalize this country.” Raffe’s father’s voice trembles with defiance, but under it I hear fear. I want to see what has caused the terror, but I don’t want to interfere. Not when Raffe is so close.

  “Where? And are The Testing candidates who failed there, too?”

  “It doesn’t matter where she is. What matters is that Dr. Barnes has allowed these students to contribute to our society in a meaningful way. They weren’t strong enough to become leaders, but they are still able to assist our top scientists in understanding the worst corruptions that were inflicted upon our world and our race. It’s because of her and the other students that we’ve been able to make such great strides in reversing some of the minor human mutations.”

  “Emilie isn’t a scientist. She’s not working in some secret lab, conducting experiments that will fix everything caused by the war.”

  “Of course she’s not running the experiments.”

  My chest tightens as I understand what Raffe’s father is saying.

  “Then what is she . . .” Raffe’s voice trails off. Has he come to the same terrible conclusion I have? If the failed Testing and University candidates are not in charge of the experiments, the only thing left for them to do is to take part in them. “You’re running experiments on them?”

  “Our best scientists are using the resources provided in order to fix the worst of the chemical and biological damage caused by the Seven Stages of War.” Resources. The word makes me shiver, as does the conviction in Official Jeffries’s voice—which grows stronger with every syllable. “Anyone who has seen the worst of the mutations understands why we’ve allocated some of our most promising resources to this project. Over the years, we’ve learned that subjects who can articulate the changes they experience are more useful than those who have no concept—”

  The crack of a bullet makes me jump. I flatten against the wall as four more blasts echo in the house. Once the shots stop, I race toward the illuminated doorway. Gun raised, I prepare to fire. But I stop as I cross the threshold and see Raffe standing in the middle of the room, looking down at the figure sprawled on the woven gray carpet. Raffe doesn’t move as I cross the room and kneel next to the man staring blankly up at the ceiling. I should feel horror at what Raffe has done. Up close I can see the resemblance. Same thick hair. Same square jawline and cheekbones. But there is nothing but a sense of sympathy as I check his pulse and confirm what I knew the minute I saw the bloody hole in the center of his forehead. Just as the president requested, Official Rychard Jeffries is dead.

  “I didn’t want to kill him,” Raffe says in a dull voice, his eyes focused on the man whose blood he shares. “I wanted to think that my father wasn’t as much a part of this as Dr. Barnes and the rest. But I was wrong. He is, and he didn’t deserve to live.”

  The gun in Raffe’s hand trembles. In the warm light, his face looks pale. Strained. The same expression I’m sure I wore when my knife punched into Damone’s chest. Will told me once that the decision to kill is easy but living with it is hard. I understand those words now better than I did then, which is why I slowly rise and hold out my hand. “Why don’t you give me the gun, Raffe?”

  “I’m not going to shoot you, Cia.” His attention does not shift from the ashen face lying at my feet. “I wouldn’t hurt you.”

  It’s not me I’m worried about.

  “I know.” I keep my voice soft and soothing, the way I used to do when I handled one of the baby animals my father helped bring into the world. “Give me the gun, Raffe. Just for a few minutes. You should go to the kitchen and get some water. That will help.”

  Will it? I don’t know. If nothing else it will get him out of this room. Raffe might hate his father now, but from what he has said, I know there was a time he felt love and admiration for the man. Soon those emotions will catch up with him, and when that happens, I’m not sure what Raffe will do.

  I take another step forward and uncurl his fingers so the gun drops into my hand. When Raffe doesn’t acknowledge my actions, I push aside my sympathy and sorrow
. Yes, he needs to grieve. He needs to come to terms with what he has done. But this is not the time. A large clock on the wall tells me Will’s second explosion should have detonated fifteen minutes ago. Whatever cover those explosions has given us will soon expire. The officials may understand that we are using them as a diversion, and widen their search. Raffe managed to get a large piece of the information we needed from his father. Had he not fired, we might have gotten more. I wish I could have guessed what Raffe would do when he heard the truth. If I had . . .

  I push away the regrets. If we survive this, there will be time enough to sort through them. But now we must move on to the second part of our mission—Dr. Barnes. And since I only vaguely know the area he lives in, I cannot get there on my own. I feel uncaring for thinking of more than Raffe at this moment, but it can’t be helped.

  I take the recorder out of Raffe’s jacket pocket, switch it to the Off position, and say, “We’ve done as much as we can here. We need to go.”

  My words are cold. Hard. Raffe’s head turns toward mine. Shock and tears glisten in his eyes. For a moment I worry that I will not be able to get him to move. That I will have to leave him behind and continue on my own. His eyes close. His jaw clenches, and when he opens his eyes and nods, the tears are gone.

  “You’re right.” He turns his back on his father’s body and heads for the door. “Let’s go.”

  Raffe doesn’t look back, but I do. I put the guns I hold in the side pocket of my bag and briefly study the man on the floor. Rychard Jeffries helped shape, revitalize, and educate this country. What he explained to Raffe is terrible, but he must have done good things along the way to achieve the position he held. Raffe’s passion and his dedication to his sister are proof that not everything Rychard Jeffries did was bad. For that alone, he deserves to be remembered.

  I find Raffe washing his hands in the kitchen. He offers me a glass of water and I take a drink, then remove the radio from my bag.

 

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