Graduation Day

Looking back, I see so many things my father could have done had he wanted to keep me from The Testing. And still he let me come. Because no matter what he believed about the process of The Testing, he believed in this country and the strength of the leaders who run it. He made a choice to believe in this system despite its flaws. I think of the piece of paper that sits inside the bag I now slide onto my shoulder, the task I have been given, and my belief that The Testing must end before it is allowed to kill again. I will have to decide whether to pretend I am still the girl from Five Lakes who climbed into the skimmer on her way to Tosu City or to take the best of that girl and allow it to be forged into something new.

A faint clicking sound stops me as I start down the stairs. Zeen. Relief fills me. And when the sound comes again, I hurry back to my rooms, unlock the door, and pull the Communicator out of my bag.

I click the button twice in response and say, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. What about you? I was worried when you didn’t answer last night. If everyone around here weren’t so jumpy, I would have come to check on you.”

“I can take care of myself,” I say. That I survived The Testing and everything the University has thrown at me should be testament to that. Still, it is nice to have my brother thinking about me and expressing a desire to protect, even though there is little he can do to keep me safe.

“Well, if you want to take care of yourself, you have to get out of there. Now,” Zeen hisses. “The girl I talked to last night says there are rebels on campus who Symon has been using to collect information. They’re also part of a plan to attack Dr. Barnes and other University officials from inside.”

“Michal told me there were rebels among the University students,” I reply. He was worried they were armed. He feared that if fighting broke out, they might start open warfare here on campus and that students might be caught in the crossfire. From what Zeen says, Michal was right.

“This morning Symon and Renatta spoke to everyone at camp. With the vote coming tomorrow and the attack scheduled to begin on Friday, we’re now under instructions to remove anything or anyone we believe could interfere with the rebellion’s success. If the rebel students are under the same orders, it won’t take much to convince them to come after you.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. I’m a colony student. They should know I’m on the side of shutting down The Testing. Removing me isn’t logical.”

“Logic isn’t what’s leading this rebellion, Cia. Emotion is. They want to end The Testing, but after investing their time and energy, what they want even more is to make Dr. Barnes and all those who were part of The Testing pay. They don’t care if they die as long as those they believe to be responsible for The Testing are dead, too. If they see you as a threat to victory, they’ll have no problem sacrificing you in order to secure the greater cause. Get out of there while you can. There’s nothing you can do to stop what’s coming.”

Yes. Yes, there is.

“Zeen—”

“Quiet.”

I obey the harsh whisper and wait. Metal bites into my fingers as I clutch the Communicator and wait for Zeen to speak again.

“Look, I mean what I said. Get Tomas and get out of there. He can help you stay safe until I get word to you about what is happening here.”

“I’m not going to leave unless you do.” If it would keep my brother safe, I would run.

“You have to get out of the city, Cia. This isn’t something you should be dealing with. Let me know when you’re out of harm’s way, and I’ll try to join you after this is all over. Don’t worry if you don’t hear from me. It might be hard for me to get somewhere private enough to speak, but I’ll contact you as soon as I am able.”

“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.”