“No, my dear.” He sees my proximity to the bag and extends the gun in front of him. His eyes hold mine, waiting for me to make a choice.
Slowly, I sit back. With a smile, he lowers the gun and continues. “While you would like to believe differently, ending The Testing is the last thing President Collindar wants. After a hundred years, other countries in the world are reaching out. Some in friendship. Others . . . well, let’s just say that our leaders will need to stay strong in order for our country to survive what comes next. Despite my growing concerns about the elimination of so many bright minds through The Testing, President Collindar believes that those losses are minor compared to the number of casualties we’ll incur if our leadership should falter.”
My mind races back to my conversations with President Collindar about The Testing. In each, she talked of ending Dr. Barnes’s control of the process. Never once did she actually say she intended to eliminate The Testing itself. But that proves nothing. I look at the half-empty glass sitting in front of Dr. Barnes. Is he telling the truth now? There’s no way to know.
I tamp down the uncertainty rising inside me and ask, “What about the Redirected students? Does President Collindar know that you and your scientists are experimenting on them?”
“Ah, you have been busy learning all of our secrets.” But his frown and the flicker of confusion that crosses his face make me wonder if he truly knows everything that I have done. “Yes, the president receives monthly reports from Professor Cartwright and Dr. Bates that outline the success of their resourcing program. She’s fully aware of their progress in the study of human mutations caused by the wars, although she believes Professor Cartwright is being too cautious in his use of the subjects. Results are important. Especially if the reports we are getting from beyond our country’s borders are accurate.”
I want to ask about the reports he has hinted at, but as important as those are, it’s the faces of those who did not pass the first rounds of The Testing that haunt me and make me ask, “Where are they? Where are the experiments being conducted?”
“In Decatur Colony.”
“There is no Decatur Colony.” I would have heard. Everyone in the Commonwealth would have. Five Lakes was the last colony established, and that was more than twenty-five years ago.
“The colony isn’t like the others. It was established as a base for research close enough to the boundaries of the fourth test that unsuccessful experimentation can be released into a closely monitored environment.” It is the way he looks at me. Expectant. As if he is waiting for an answer. Unsuccessful experimentation . . .
Horror squeezes my chest. I see the eyes that met mine when I raised my gun on the unrevitalized plains and fired.
Angry.
Bitter.
Human.
I remember the screams as my bullet made impact and took a life. If Dr. Barnes is to be believed, it might have been the life of a former Testing candidate who was Redirected. Turned into a resource and then discarded.
Before I can recover my voice, Dr. Barnes goes on. “President Collindar and I disagree on a number of things, which is why you, Cia, are here. I chose you to be our own personal test. A candidate from a colony we have not selected a student from in years. One who is unlike the type of leader President Collindar and the rest of the Testing committee insists will be necessary for our country to survive the future. The president was positive a student with your background would crack under the pressure, that you’d be incapable of doing what is necessary to keep your country safe.”
A piece falls into place. “Symon helped me during the fourth phase of Testing because you told him to.”
He nods.
“Why?”
“I needed you to think clearly about your interview answers so that I could make a case for you being accepted to the University. Many on the committee had already expressed concern that you were too emotional and displayed qualities they felt were inappropriate in our leaders. I needed you to be in control during those final moments of The Testing so no one would ask too many questions when you were passed through to the University, which is what needed to happen. Because that was the only way you could be here at this, your final and most important test. President Collindar has agreed to abide by the results. If you pass this one last exam, The Testing program will end. If you fail, it will move forward as it currently stands and students will continue to die.”
“What is the test?” I ask. Vaguely, I am aware of the sound of footsteps and raised voices outside the door. But that doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except this moment. My throat is dry and my heart pounds as I stare into Dr. Barnes’s eyes, looking for the truth. “What do I have to do?”