“So now what?” I squirm out of his arms and jump to my feet, angry. Angry that never once in all of our walks or conversations did he tell me these things. Never once when I was studying late into the night so I would do well on a test did he tell me what the consequences might be. “I leave in the morning. Why tell me this now? What good does it do?”
My father doesn’t raise his voice to meet mine. “Maybe none. Maybe Flint is right and our dreams are just hallucinations. But if there’s a chance they aren’t, it is better you know. Better that you go to Tosu City prepared to question everything you see and everyone you meet. That might be the difference between success or failure.” He crosses to me and puts his hands on my shoulders. I start to pull away, but then I notice the light reflecting off the tears pooling in his eyes. The fight goes out of me.
“Does Mom know?” I think she must, but at this point I’m not sure of anything.
“Your mother knows about the memory wipe and that I have nightmares, but not what they contain.”
I roll the words over in my head, testing them for the truth. “So, is that why Mom didn’t want me to be chosen?”
My father lays a hand on my face and rubs his thumb against my cheek. “Cia, I haven’t seen my parents since the day I left to be tested. To have a child chosen is an honor, but it also means loss. Your mother didn’t want to lose you.”
I don’t know how long we sit in silence. Long enough to hear my brothers’ voices announcing their return and my mother’s shouts chastising them for sneaking sweets. It all sounds so normal.
When my face is dry of tears, my father takes my hand and walks me back inside. We don’t mention Dad’s dreams or my new fears as Hamin teases the twins about my friends flirting with them. Mom puts out a platter of small cakes and sweetened mint tea as the boys pull out a deck of cards so we can all play one last game as a family. Even as I enjoy the laughter and warmth around the table, it feels incomplete without Zeen, who has yet to return. More than once I find myself watching the front door. I love all my brothers, but Zeen’s the one I go to when I have a problem I need to talk about. Zeen is always patient and insightful. He asks questions, and without fail I feel better after any discussion. Tonight I have a problem, but Zeen isn’t here.
When the game is over, my mother gently reminds me of the hour and of the task still in front of me. Excusing myself, I take the Commonwealth bag and slip into the bedroom I share with my brothers.
Knowing I may never see the room again makes me look at it with fresh eyes. A fire glows in the hearth nestled into the back wall. A square, worn brown rug sits in the middle of the room. Two sets of bunk beds are arranged on either side of the rug. Only mine, the bottom bed closest to the fireplace, has the sheets tucked in and the quilt smoothed. As soon as the boys graduated from school, Mom declared them old enough to tidy up their own beds. And they decided they were old enough not to care whether they slept in tightly tucked sheets.
We each have a wooden chest for our everyday clothes and shoes. The special clothes are hung in the large wooden armoire in the corner. Mother always talks about first impressions. I gnaw on my bottom lip and weigh the merits of all my clothes. Feeling confident is always easier when dressed in something special, but I hear my father’s voice replay in my head. I imagine the abandoned city street he walked in his dream. The two dresses I own won’t help me there. And even if the dreams aren’t real, I know in my heart pretty clothes won’t help once The Testing begins.
Ignoring the special attire, I walk to the wooden chest I’ve used since I was a little girl. I select two pairs of strong, comfortable pants and two sturdy shirts and my most comfortable boots. They are all hand-me-downs from my brothers. Knowing I have a piece of them coming with me helps ease the loneliness I already feel. I grab sleepwear and undergarments and carefully stow the selections in my bag. There is still plenty of room for the two personal items I am allowed to bring with me.
Sitting on the edge of my bed, I look around the room. Had my father not shared his dreams, I might have taken my flute or the silver necklace my mother gave me on my sixteenth birthday. Instead, I consider what might help me if The Testing is more than paper and pencil examinations.
After several minutes I slide off the bed and pull a small pocket hunting knife out of my chest. Each of my brothers has a similar knife—a gift from Dad. The knife also has a screwdriver and a few other gadgets attached. That’s one. Now for number two. There is only one other thing I can think of that might help, but it doesn’t belong to me. And Zeen isn’t here to ask permission.
Last year, Dad began letting Zeen experiment at work with his own projects. Some of those projects take him outside the colony boundaries. The boundaries were designed not so much to keep people or animals out, but to remind Five Colony citizens that the land beyond is potentially unsafe. Poisonous plants and meat-seeking animals are only part of the danger. During the last three stages of war, violent earthquakes ripped the fabric of the land. A lone traveler who falls into one of the earthquake-made fissures can easily find death waiting at the bottom from a broken neck, exposure, or hunger. To prevent the latter two, Dad gave Zeen a small handheld device called a Transit Communicator sent to him by the Commonwealth government. The device has a compass, a calculator, and a communication system that allows Zeen to contact a matching device in Dad’s office if ever there is a problem. I don’t know how it works, but I’m betting if necessary I can figure it out.
When Zeen isn’t working beyond the border, he keeps the device on a shelf next to his bed. Sure enough. My heart aches as my fingers close over the device. I wish Zeen were here to give me permission—to tell me he forgives me for being chosen when he was not. I want to tell Zeen that our father was trying to protect him when the announcement about the potato was made yesterday. That it wasn’t motivated by ego, but by love.
I wrap the Transit Communicator in a pair of socks to keep it safe and slide it into my bag, hoping Zeen returns in time for me to tell him I’ve taken a piece of him with me to Tosu City. Even though I know he will not. Zeen is the smartest of my brothers, but he is also the most emotional. While Win, Hart, and Hamin are loving and kind, they possess a carefree attitude about life that frustrates our mother. Zeen, however, is fiercely passionate. His temper is quick to flare, but his love is all encompassing. Which makes the loss of one he loves almost unbearable. He barely spoke for a month when our grandfather died.
Sitting on Zeen’s bed, I write a note that will serve as a request for his device and a reminder of my love. Not the farewell I hope for, but the only one I am certain I will have.
Now that my selections are made, panic sets in. Tomorrow I will be walking away from everything I know into something strange and potentially dangerous. What I want most in the world is to climb into bed and pull the covers over my head. Instead, I snap the bag shut, sling it onto my shoulder, and walk back out to my family, hoping to enjoy the last hours I have left with them.
Chapter 4
MY BROTHERS ARE still sleeping in their room when my father wakes me from a fitful sleep. I slip on a pair of tan leggings and a light blue cap-sleeve tunic, pull on my boots, and grab my bag. My mother holds a cup of milk for me to drink. Her eyes are red, but she isn’t crying now. She tells me she’s proud of me. I do my best not to cling to her as we hug goodbye. Suddenly, I am sorry for all the times I was angry at her for not encouraging my dreams of attending the University. Now I understand why she was scared for me to succeed. Now it is too late.
Fighting back tears, I drink my milk, take the apple Mom has waiting for me on the counter, and promise to write when I get to the city. My father waits at the door, and I give my mother one last hug before walking out into the moist morning air. The sky is still dark as we follow the same path we took yesterday. We walk about a mile before Dad breaks the silence.
“Did you get any sleep?”
“Some.” Interspersed with anxious dreams.
“More than likely, Flint is right. Th
e dreams are just dreams.”
“I hope so.”
“So do I.” He laces his fingers through mine as we trek uphill. “You’re smart. You’re strong. I have every faith you’ll pass whatever test they give you. Just don’t let the other candidates psych you out. Some of the kids from my colony were vicious. They’d do anything to be number one.”
“Like what?” Staying up all night to study was common in my class. I’d done it a few times myself.
“Poison was a favorite tactic of a couple of the girls in my class.”
I stop walking. “Poison?”
“Not enough to kill. Just enough to make someone too sick to sit for a test. By my final year, I was careful to eat only what I brought with me to school.”
“Were they punished?”
My father gives me a sad smile. “They were smart enough not to get caught. But even if they had been, I doubt they would have gotten more than a reprimand. It’s hard to punish kids for trying to pull their family out of poverty.”
We walk the next few miles without talking as I consider the implications of my father’s words. I can tell myself there’s no proof my father’s dreams are real. But this . . . I can’t think of a single student in the Five Lakes Colony school who would sabotage a fellow student in order to get a better grade. None of us are rich, but no one I know is starving, either. Not anymore. If a family is struggling in Five Lakes, the rest of the community pitches in to help. A world where you might poison the competition in order to feed your family is inconceivable to me.
Slashes of pink and purple light the sky as we approach the outskirts of town. Dad puts his arm around my shoulders and holds me close. “Make sure you eat right and get enough sleep. That’s going to help you stay strong and think clearly.”
I nod at the familiar words.
Just before we finish climbing the last hill he adds, “Be careful who you trust, Cia. You do that and everything will be okay.”
Hand in hand, we walk into the square.
In front of the magistrate’s house is an enormous black skimmer with the seal of the Commonwealth stamped on the side. Tomas, Malachi, and members of their families are standing near the back of it. Malachi is wearing his best clothes—stiffly pressed pants, polished black shoes, and a jacket over a collared shirt. The bright white of Malachi’s shirt is in vivid contrast with his dark skin, and from the hunch of his shoulders I can tell he is fighting back tears. Tomas’s clothing choice is more like mine. Faded gray pants and a white V-neck shirt make Tomas look like he is preparing to work on his father’s farm instead of traveling to Tosu City. His handsome face is unreadable as his mother fusses over his unruly hair.
Magistrate Owens and the Tosu official are standing near the front of the skimmer and wave as Dad and I approach. Today, official Michal Gallen is wearing a fitted purple jumpsuit, also stamped with the Commonwealth logo. His shaggy hair is slicked back into a ponytail, giving the angles of his face more definition.
Magistrate Owens pulls my father to the side, leaving me alone with official Gallen. He smiles at me, and I’m surprised to see warmth for the first time in his deep green eyes.
“Are you nervous about the trip, Malencia?”
For some reason I don’t expect him to remember my name. That he does pleases me. “I’m more nervous that I’ll disappoint the colony by not doing well on the tests, Mr. Gallen.”
He laughs. “Call me Michal. And don’t worry. That’ll pass.”
My nerves or caring about the colony? I don’t get the chance to ask because he pushes off the vehicle and holds out his hand. “Can I stow your bag? You won’t need it until we get to Tosu City.” In his other hand is a transparent bag containing two thick silver bands—one larger than the other. “This is your identification bracelet. Each Testing candidate is assigned an identifying symbol that is engraved on the bracelet. You’ll wear this one and the smaller band will wrap around the strap on your bag. That way no one can confuse their bag with yours.”
He snaps the clasp of the identification band onto my left wrist and affixes the other to my bag. Once he disappears into the skimmer, I study the bracelet. It is about an inch wide and woven of thick metal segments. I know the bracelet has a clasp, but the fastening is impossible to distinguish. Turning my wrist, I study the large silver disk attached to the top of the bracelet. Etched in black on the disk is an eight-pointed star. In the center of the star is a stylized lightning bolt.
“The star represents your Testing group.” I jump at Michal’s voice. I hadn’t realized he’d returned. “You’ll find other kids with the same symbol on their bracelet, but yours will be the only one with a lightning bolt.”
“Do the symbols mean something specific?” The words slip past my lips before I can take them back. Maybe kids from other colonies who always have Testing candidates know what the symbols mean.
If he thinks the question is silly, Michal doesn’t show it. “The eight-pointed star is the symbol for rejuvenation. The kids in that group show aptitude in a lot of different areas. It’s a pretty good group to be in.” His smile is warm and encouraging, and I find myself smiling back and wondering what group he was in.
A small beeping sound prompts Michal to look down at his watch. He looks around the square, and his smile fades. Zandri still isn’t here, and I wonder if this is just her casual attention to time or if she has chosen to challenge the laws and refuse her place at The Testing. Does she believe laws so long untested will not be enforced?
Michal excuses himself and huddles with Magistrate Owens and my father. From the way Michal is pointing to his watch, he believes the time for Zandri to arrive has come and gone. My father and Magistrate Owens argue with Michal over giving Zandri more time. I turn away and hold my breath, knowing what the punishment might be. And I see her. I squint into the sunlight to be certain before yelling, “She’s here.”
“Thank God,” I hear someone whisper.
The wind teases Zandri’s gauzy multicolored skirt and peasant blouse as she strolls unhurried through the square. Her long blond hair glistens in the sunlight. A small smile tugs at her lips as she reaches us. She offers no apologies. And I know. She’s planned this entrance. She’s showing that while she can be required to perform, she cannot be controlled. While I admire her guts, the annoyed look in Michal’s eyes makes me worry for her.
My father puts his arm around me as Michal gives Zandri her identification bracelets, and stows her bag in the skimmer. Gone is his warm manner as he instructs us all to get into the vehicle. It is time to go.
The swirl of emotions I’ve been holding at bay hits me full force as my father pulls me into a tight embrace. Tears threaten to choke me as I tell him I love him. I push aside the hurt that Zeen didn’t say goodbye and ask my father to give Zeen my note and the entire family my love. My father tells me he loves me, too, and reminds me in one last whisper, “Cia, trust no one.”
I am the last one to climb into the sleek skimmer. The door closes behind me. I hear the locks engage as the engine roars to life. My father puts his hand on the porthole glass, and I lift mine to mirror it. Our eyes meet for a moment, and one tear escapes my resolve as the skimmer begins to rise. Dad steps back from the skimmer, and a moment later we are moving forward—out of the square, toward Tosu City—away from anything familiar.
My heart races with excitement even as it is torn in two. I can see the same conflicting emotions on the faces of the other Five Lakes Testing candidates. Our graduation ceremony changed our status from adolescent to adult, but this journey makes it official. We are on our own.
I stare out the window until the last familiar sights fade into the horizon. I store up the memories of the fields and the hills for the days and maybe years to come. Then I turn and take in my new surroundings. My father and his staff have a couple of skimmers they use for work, so I’ve ridden in one before. But my father’s vehicles are not as sophisticated or as fast as this. In fact, aside from the name and the fact that they
hover several feet over the earth, the vehicles are nothing alike. Where the greenhouse skimmers are small and seat between one and four people, and only that if you squeeze, this one could seat twelve passengers in comfort. The couchlike seats that line the front of the passenger compartment are gray and soft. In the back of the vehicle is a small kitchen and a door that leads to another compartment. The roof of the skimmer is tall enough that I can walk around the cabin with room to spare.
I don’t see our bags and consider asking Michal where he stowed them, but he is seated in a separate driver’s compartment up front. From the set of his shoulders I’d say he’s busy concentrating on driving. Which is good. While skimmers are designed to hover up to fifteen feet above the ground, the propulsion mechanism that makes the vehicle run requires there actually be ground somewhere underneath. If a skimmer travels over a large hole, it will stop gliding. Skimmers also have trouble over water, which is why someone adapted them to float if necessary.
“I’ve never ridden in anything like this before,” Malachi says from across the cabin. His wide eyes are filled with anxiety. His father is an irrigation worker. His mother makes quilts. No, Malachi never would have had cause to ride on anything more sophisticated than a bicycle. Until now. I cock my head to the side to get a better view of the symbol on his bracelet. A triangle with an arrow in the middle. We are not in the same group.
“I think it’s safe to say none of us have ridden in anything quite like this.” Tomas gets up from his seat in the back and crosses over to sit next to Malachi. “At the rate we’re going, we’ll be in Tosu City before dark.”
“You think so?” Some of the fear fades from Malachi’s eyes. “Do you think they’ll let us look around the city?”
“Probably not until after we’re done with Testing. It sounds like they’re going to have us on a pretty tight schedule.” Tomas flashes a smile and claps Malachi on the back. “But once we’re University students we’ll have the run of the place and the girls. Right?”
The Testing Trilogy Page 4