Independent Study (29 page)

I make excuses as to why it is best for me to stay in my rooms instead of pedaling into Tosu City or to the airfield tonight. I don’t want to go alone. I don’t have a flashlight. My muscles aren’t conditioned enough to make the journey quickly. I don’t know if Michal will be in the president’s office, and I don’t have the exact coordinates of the airfield. All are true, but deep down, I recognize the real reason I cannot make the trip.

I am scared.

The Testing put my life in danger. Though I still don’t have complete memories of that time, I know I faced the fear. I survived. I should be able to do the same now. But this fear is different.

During The Testing, I had no choice but to face the terror Dr. Barnes’s challenges evoked. Last night, for the first time, it was my choice and my choice alone that put me in the path of danger.

Part of me thought I had accepted the possibility that I might be given the ultimate punishment by Dr. Barnes and his team of officials.

I was wrong.

I want to live.

As important as it is to put an end to The Testing and Dr. Barnes’s current University program, there’s a group already working toward that goal. People like Michal, who are older, more experienced, smarter. They know this city and the people who inhabit it better than I. They don’t need help from a first-year University student. Any information I might find can also be found by Symon and his team. And even if I wanted to try, it’s too late for me to make a difference. As much as I’d like to think I’m important, I’m not. I’m too inexperienced. Too untried. Too young.

Technically, my school graduation in Five Lakes marked me as an adult. But huddled on the bed with my arms wrapped tight around my body, I have never felt less worthy of the distinction. As much as I always wanted to believe my father when he said I am capable of doing anything, I know I am not. I cannot deliberately make a choice that could end my life.

I am not a leader.

I am a coward.

My sleep is filled with strange dreams. My muscles feel heavy when I wake. My appetite is gone, though I force myself to eat before biking to the president’s office. Since it is Sunday, the office hallways are mostly empty. I drop my report onto the president’s desk and immediately return to campus. No detours. No notes warning Michal and the rebels of possible danger; no stopping at Tomas’s residence to tell him what I know. No opportunity for Dr. Barnes to accuse me of behavior that marks me for Redirection.

When the next week starts, I go to classes, turn in assignments, and take tests. My teachers praise my work. I receive high marks, as do the other members of our study group. Everyone asks questions about my internship, especially those who have been assigned to internships within the Central Government Building. Despite the weight of my fear, my answers are upbeat. Yes, I met the president. Yes, I already turned in my first assignment. No, I have not heard the rumor about the change in law the president will propose on the Debate Chamber floor.

I feel Tomas stiffen next to me as I answer the last question, and when I go upstairs into the stacks to find a book about the former European Union, he follows.

“What change in law is the president going to propose?”

“I don’t know.”

Tomas put his hands on my shoulders. “The others might believe that, but they don’t understand you the way I do.” His fingers trace the outline of my jaw. “I know when you’re angry or scared. Right now you’re both. I can’t help you unless you tell me why.” When I still don’t answer, he drops his hand and asks, “Is it me?”

“No. It’s . . .” The words die in my throat as I stare into the eyes of the boy I have trusted with so many of my secrets and my heart. Do I trust him now? Yes. Despite all that has happened, I believe in him. I love him.

Quickly, I tell him about the rebellion. About the president’s upcoming challenge to Dr. Barnes, the threatened vote of confidence, and the president’s willingness to embrace violence to end The Testing and prevent her loss of power.

“According to Michal, people around the city as well as students here at the University are being armed for this conflict. Unless Symon’s rebel faction finds something to convince the Debate Chamber to vote out Dr. Barnes, people will die.”

“So will Dr. Barnes.” The cold acceptance in Tomas’s voice makes me shiver. “He deserves to pay.”

“Yes.” I slip my hand into his and squeeze tight to remind him that I am here. That despite what we have been through, we are still the people who came from Five Lakes Colony. People who believe in doing what is best for everyone. “But not like that.”

Tomas’s gray eyes look into mine. In their depths I see anger and pain, but I also see the warmth and kindness of the boy I have known since childhood. A boy who has turned into a man.

“You’re right,” he says. “As much as I want Dr. Barnes to pay for what he has done, the country can’t afford another war. I don’t think that my internship in the genetics lab will give me access to the information the president needs, but I’ll keep my ears open. You’ll do the same. If we’re lucky, Dr. Barnes will be voted out of power and The Testing will end without the rebels raising their weapons.”

“And if we aren’t lucky?” I ask.

Tomas’s hand tightens on mine. “Then we run. We can take off our bracelets on our way out of Tosu. The city will be too busy with a civil war to worry about missing University students. They’ll never bother to ask if we fled and returned home.”

Home. My parents. My brothers. A place far away from Tosu City, filled with people I know and trust. Tomas could be right. There is a chance no one will search for us. Not with a rebellion going on. We might be able to go home and use our skills to help the people we grew up with survive. Five Lakes has so little contact with Tosu City, they may not even realize a war is happening. When we tell them, they will not only understand why we returned, they will welcome us with open arms. Perhaps we can leave the past behind us and build a future without fear. Together. And when Tomas’s lips find mine, the kiss is filled with passion and the hope that even if war comes, we will survive.

The days pass. I stash extra food in my bag during meals in preparation for the journey Tomas and I may make. During the study sessions, I try to ignore the faces around the table. Stacia. Enzo. Will. Raffe. Naomy. Holt. Brick. People I am planning to leave behind if violence comes. But the hope Tomas’s plan gave me fades as guilt takes hold.

On Friday, I am assigned to work with one of the president’s officials on reading through plans for a new communication system. Here and there, I catch snatches of conversation as the president’s office prepares for the debate motion on The Testing she will soon be putting forward. Throughout the day, I watch for Michal, hoping for news that evidence to condemn Dr. Barnes has been found. I spot him as I’m leaving for the day. He looks tired as he climbs out of a skimmer behind the president and several older officials. His steps slow when he sees me. His eyes watch as the president and her team disappear inside the building, and then he signals for me to follow him around the corner.

Once we are out of sight, he dispels my hope. Tangible proof has yet to be located, and Symon is working hard to persuade the president and the other faction that patience is required to avoid perpetuating the cycle of violence.

The words I heard while hiding in the dark echo in my head. A promise of more violence.

Quickly, I tell Michal about overhearing Professor Holt and the voice that spoke of murder. When I am done, Michal tells me not to worry. Symon would know if Dr. Barnes was aware of the rebels. But he promises to pass the information along.

During a whispered study session conversation that evening, Tomas assures me that I have done my part. I have passed along the warning. Other than preparing for flight, there is nothing more either of us can do. I don’t tell him about the airfield and the answers I think could be found there, because I’m scared. I want to go home. I don’t want either of us to die.

That night, I toss and turn as I wait for sleep to come. When it does, it brings with it faces of people I don’t know. Some wear bracelets of silver. Others wear ones woven of silver and gold. Extending from each bracelet is a chain bolted to the brick wall behind them. Some hurl themselves forward, trying to get free. Others seem resigned to their fates, oblivious to the metal links binding them to the wall. One by one, they turn and notice me. Their eyes look at my wrist. Envy, anger, desire, and despair light their faces. When I glance down, I see that I am not wearing a bracelet. I am standing in a field of rich green grass that my father helped create, far away from Tosu City. I am free.

Or am I?

I look around and my heart begins to pound. Something is wrong. I take several steps forward and run smack into a barrier. A wall. I turn and race in the other direction. Five steps. Ten. Another wall. One wall meets another. Then another.

A cage that cannot be seen is no less there than if the walls were made of steel.

The Testing candidates chained to the wall stand still as stone. In their eyes I see terror combined with a hunger that can only be sated by freedom. It’s a look I know. The same one I have seen in my own reflector. A look I must wear now.

I stumble backward, yelling that I can’t help them. But I can try.

The walls of my prison are cold to the touch. The chill seeps through my fingers. I shiver, pull my hand away, and the cold recedes. I step closer to the center of the confined space and feel warmer. Less frightened. Safe. A step closer to the wall, and panic gnaws my stomach.

And I realize—the walls are constructed of my terror. To escape, I will have to not only face, but defeat, my fear.

Nausea rolls through me as I push my hand against the wall. A drop of water hits the floor. Then another, until it becomes a steady stream. Water pools at my feet. The wall weakens beneath my hands. I push against the barrier and feel it tremble, but it does not break. I take several steps toward the center of the space and prepare to run as a voice inside tells me to stop. That what I’m doing is dangerous. That breaking this wall of ice could result in my death.

I know.

I accept.

I run.

The ice shatters on impact—as do the Testing candidates’ chains. I feel shards of ice slice my flesh. The pain I feel makes it hard to see whether the others have survived. But when I put my head on the blood-streaked earth, I know it doesn’t matter. Whether we are dead or alive, we are better off because we are free.

I jolt awake and run my fingers along the five Testing scars. They burn just like the shards in my dream. I slide out of bed, turn on the light, and pace the length of my bedroom. When the dream doesn’t fade, I run my hand along the wall. I feel the same chill I did in my nightmare. But these walls are real. Hours ago, hiding behind the walls of this room made me feel safe. I now see it for what it is. A prison. The safety is just an illusion. No matter how careful I am or how good my grades are, I will never be free of the threat Dr. Barnes and his system present. None of us will be until Dr. Barnes and his officials are removed from power.

Unlike in many of my nightmares, none of the faces in my dream were familiar. But I know who they are. Future candidates. Current University students. People who, like my friend Daileen, are at this moment seated at their families’ kitchen tables or in their residence rooms, studying late into the night, hoping to ace the next test. To get closer to their dream. They don’t know that the people who safeguard that dream are making choices that could lead to their deaths. But I do. No matter the excuses I make or the fear I feel, I cannot turn away from that knowledge. The president must win her vote. Dr. Barnes must be removed from power. The Testing must end.

So far the rebels have not found the evidence the president needs to win the vote and defeat Dr. Barnes. If the vote fails, the other rebel faction will attack, and—if the man I overheard is correct—Dr. Barnes’s team will be ready for them. They will do whatever it takes to crush those who wish to end The Testing, and they will sentence the rebels, generations of candidates, and perhaps even the president and her staff to death. I may not be able to find the information that can keep this from happening, but I have to try.

I glance at the clock. It is just past midnight. There’s plenty of time to prepare and search the abandoned airfield for information the rebels can use. I strip off my nightwear and pull on my clothes. Lacing my boots, I come up with a plan. First stop, the residence library. Last week, I left without learning the exact boundaries of the airfield. During the Induction, I logged the coordinates into the Transit Communicator, but the airfield is large. It would be best to have a more complete picture of the area I will be searching.

The hour is early enough that students are still in the hangout room when I walk by. After looking through the library rooms, I find a tattered atlas of the former fifty United States shelved near the floor. The old airfield base is marked on a detailed map of Kansas, along with its longitude and latitude. Step one complete.

An empty lab completes step two. I find several boxes of matches and a small penlight. I also unearth a narrow, razor-sharp folding knife used to cut up plants. It isn’t much, but between this knife and the one in my pocket, I will have protection if I run into trouble.

Back in my rooms, I slide the signaling receiver I built into my pocket. While I do not want to put Tomas in danger, I know he will want to be by my side. Studying the map, I plug the coordinates for the center of the airfield into the Transit Communicator. The machine calculates and tells me it is just shy of ten miles away. If Tomas and I leave within the hour, we should be able to reach it, look around, and get back to our residences before our absence is noticed. I place the map book in the bottom of my bag and then add the change of clothes, food, water, and matches on top. I hold the penlight in my hand. The knives go in the side pocket. Just in case.

When the clock strikes one, I open my door, step into the hall, and listen for sounds from my fellow students. There is silence.