Graduation Day Read online

  Instead, Kerrick was issuing a warning to Tomas. To stay away from Dreu Owens. Tomas didn’t, and now Kerrick and Marin are dead.

  “They must have been members of the rebellion.” It’s the only explanation I can come up with. “Zeen said the rebels had been given orders to remove anyone who might interfere with the success of their mission. Either Dreu has something to do with the rebellion or just mentioning his name was enough to cause worry that you could disrupt their plans.”

  The sound of a door slamming makes us jump. Someone is in the building.

  “You need to get out of here.” Tomas helps me to my feet.

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll go, too, but first I want to look around the offices and see if the files Kerrick talked about really exist. I doubt it, but if Dreu is important to the rebellion, it would be good to know why. Kerrick and Marin lost their lives. I’d rather it wasn’t for nothing.” Tomas looks out into the hall. “This way.”

  He leads me to the unlocked westernmost entrance he arrived through and tells me to wait as he steps out and looks around. A moment later, he leads me out into the cool, crisp air.

  “How’s the leg?” he asks.

  “Fine.”

  “Good.” Tomas runs a hand over my cheek but then frowns. “I don’t think we can wait much longer to put the president’s plan into action. If Kerrick was ready to attack on the chance I might interfere with the rebellion, there’s no telling what the other rebel students might do. This place could end up as a battleground any moment. If we’re going to finish this, we have to act now.”

  Anger simmers below Tomas’s logic. One of his hands is clenched in a fist at his side. He who once wished to flee has found in Kerrick’s and Marin’s deaths the need to fight.

  “Stacia is in. If everything goes according to plan, by tomorrow morning the others will be, too.” I entwine my fingers through his. “Then we make this right.”

  I stand on tiptoe and place a kiss on Tomas’s jaw. Then, as much as I hate leaving him, I turn and walk toward the south. When I glance back to look for him, he’s gone. My leg aches as I hurry down the walkway. The pain reminds me that the bullet that ripped open my pants also left them stained with blood. I can’t go back to the residence looking like this.

  I duck into one of the Science buildings at the edge of campus, locate the bathroom on the first floor, and change into the pair of gray pants I have in my bag. I wash the blood from my hands and then run my fingers through my hair in an effort to erase all evidence of my time at the stadium. In the past several days, three students have died on account of my actions. At any moment another might be injured or killed because of something I created. Somehow, remarkably, my image in the reflector looks unchanged. How wrong that seems and yet how lucky it’s true. Because there is still so much more to do before this ends. Maybe once it is over people will understand what I have become. Maybe I’ll understand as well.

  Since classes have ended, I am not the only one hurrying to get back to the residence. That allows me to move quickly without worry that I will attract attention. Despite the dread that churns inside me, when I reach the Government Studies building I put a smile on my face and walk through the residence’s front door. The sound of laughter trickles down the hall. After everything that has happened, I long for the relative safety of my quarters upstairs. Instead, I head down the hall and glance into the main gathering room. Raffe isn’t there, so I head for the stairs.

  When I reach the second-floor landing, I make a decision. Instead of going up to the third floor, I turn and walk toward the door marked with a coiled spring. Raffe’s symbol. For the first time I wonder which kind of spring Raffe’s symbol is meant to be: a tension coil that stretches and shifts to work with the machine it’s a part of or a compression coil that will not allow itself to be pushed down. Is Raffe the type who truly wishes to resist the current methods of selecting our leaders, or is he working with his father and Symon to prevent change? I raise my fist and pound on the door. The time has come to find out.

  When the door opens, in spite of the monitor’s assurance, I let out a sigh of relief to see Raffe alive and whole.

  As soon as I step over the threshold, Raffe closes the door and throws the lock. “I was starting to worry. Did you find what you were looking for?”

  “Not exactly.” I look around for signs of listening devices or cameras. The room is almost the same size as mine and contains the same table, chairs, and sofa, but Raffe has transformed the space. A blue and white quilt hangs over the top of the couch. A handwoven rug with a circular blue design lies in the middle of the floor. And hanging on the walls are paintings. Some framed, others affixed at the corners with adhesive strips. Abstract swirling colors. Beautiful renderings of flowers and trees. And in the center is the largest canvas. Deep brown wood frames the portrait of a girl with light blue eyes, dark blond hair, and a chin the same shape as the chin on the boy who stands in front of me. She isn’t what I would call beautiful, but there is something striking about her face, and the look in her eyes is haunting.

  “I don’t normally let people in here.” Raffe stands next to the painting. Now that his face is beside the girl’s, the resemblance is even more pronounced. “I don’t think we have a lot of art lovers under this roof.”

  I look at the slashes of vibrant colors next to muted earth tones and find myself wishing Zandri were here to explain why these paintings make me want to catch my breath. She’d understand the emotions on these canvases because she had this kind of talent. The talent to make someone feel without saying a word.

  “They’re wonderful.”

  “Thank you.”

  The pride in his voice makes me turn. “You made these?”

  “Only a couple of them. The rest belong to my sister.” He glances at the girl in the frame and I wonder—is she the sister he referred to long ago? If so, she is part of the reason he sought to ally himself with me. Raffe promised he would trust me with his secrets if I trusted him with mine. This painting and his having passed my test tell me the time for sharing those secrets has come.

  “Do you have a piece of paper I can borrow?” I ask.

  Raffe looks confused, but disappears into his bedroom and returns with a paper and pencil. Taking a seat at the table, I write a note and hand it to him. He reads it, shakes his head, and together we begin to search for signs that we are being recorded. Because Raffe has more possessions than I, our search takes longer than mine did, but when the two of us are done, we haven’t found anything. Whoever is listening to me has not found reason to be suspicious of Raffe.

  Quickly, I tell him about what happened at the stadium. The ambush. The dead students Tomas disposed of. And finally, I tell him about my trip to see the president, what she asked of me, and what I now ask of him.

  “I knew Kerrick,” he says, taking a seat across the table from me.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You and Tomas did what you had to do to stay alive. Now we’re going to do what is necessary to end this. Right?”

  “Before you agree to help,” I say, reaching into my bag, “you need to see this.” I slide the president’s list of names across the table and watch Raffe as he reads. When his hand tightens on the paper, I know he has reached his father’s name. If I saw my father’s name there, I would rip up the paper. Yell. Cry. Plead. And if that didn’t work, I’d find a way to warn him. I would do anything to keep him safe. Raffe just stares at the paper in his hand.

  The silence stretches until he quietly says, “Some of these names don’t belong here.”

  “Your father—”

  “No. These names—” He grabs a pencil and puts stars next to five names on the list. “I’ve heard my father rant enough about them to know they don’t get along well with Dr. Barnes. I’ve even heard my father ask Dr. Barnes why he keeps them around instead of insisting on their transfers. Unless I’m mistaken, they don’t believe in The Testing any more than you do. The presid
ent or maybe Symon has reasons for wanting them dead, though I can’t tell you what they are. But my father . . .” Raffe’s anger-filled eyes meet mine. “My father belongs on this list. He’s a part of what needs to end. We both know my father’s aware of what happens to Testing candidates who don’t pass. There’s a penalty worse than simple failure for Tosu City students who fail even the entrance exam and my father not only knows this, he believes it is right.”

  I blink. “I assumed Tosu students were allowed to go home after they were told they didn’t pass.” Otherwise, why would their parents let them risk failing the exam? Or does the chance to be one of the country’s leaders mean that much to those who live here in Tosu City?

  Raffe stands and walks toward the portrait. “They don’t go home, but everyone in Tosu City believes the unsuccessful applicants are assigned to jobs outside the city. I believed that. It’s what we’ve all been told, so why would I think any different? There are even people who swear they’ve heard from family members who were assigned jobs in the colonies. Important jobs working with new solar power technology or on innovative communication systems. I’ve heard friends of my parents brag about their child who has succeeded despite failing to pass the University entrance exam. Some have even mentioned it to Dr. Barnes in order to point out that he made a mistake grading the tests.”

  “I don’t understand. If people have heard from their family members who have been assigned to colony jobs, then maybe the students really were sent there.” I want that to be true.

  Raffe shakes his head. “You asked why I insisted on helping you. It’s because I learned that those letters aren’t real. That nothing I grew up believing is as it seemed.” He reaches out and touches the girl’s portrait. “My sister Emilie created most of these paintings, including this one. I asked her to make a portrait of herself for me to have after her application to take the University entrance exam was approved.”

  He runs a finger over her long hair and lets his arm drop to his side. “Emilie never wanted to go to the University. She wanted to be an artist and work with one of the revitalization teams to make the city beautiful. But my father insisted she apply. The only way he would allow my mother to get Emilie art supplies was if her grades were the top in her class and she submitted an application. Emilie was smart, but she struggled with her homework, especially science. So I helped. When I didn’t understand something, I asked my teachers. Then Emilie and I would figure it out together.”

  “She got accepted to take the entrance exam.”

  “She did.” The words are filled with regret and pain. Raffe shoves his hands into his pockets and turns to face me. “My father was thrilled, and all the extra studying had me so far ahead that I was guaranteed a spot in my University class. Before Emilie began attending prep classes for the Early Studies exam, Dr. Barnes himself came to our house to inform me and my father that my teachers had recommended I apply to the University and take the Early Studies entrance exam a year early. I was ready to go, but Dr. Barnes believed I would do better if I had the extra year to develop my other talents. I was so proud knowing I was going to be able to attend the University like I’d always dreamed. Never once did I consider what could happen if I didn’t pass the entrance exams and get assigned to a field of study. It’s probably not surprising that I was too excited to sleep when I went to bed that night. So I went downstairs to get a drink and heard my father’s voice. Dr. Barnes and he were talking about some possible changes to the current education program in the city that would better prepare future University students so that a higher percentage would pass the Early Studies entrance exam.”

  Raffe gives me a bitter smile. “Had I gone upstairs at that moment, I wouldn’t be talking to you now. I’d be pissed you’re so damn smart, and I’d be studying day and night to make sure my grades were better than yours.”

  “I would’ve liked to see you try,” I say with a grin. The passionate way he talks reminds me of my brothers. Proud. Stubborn and strong in their convictions. Not always the easiest to work with, but people who would die before betraying what they believe. That thought comforts even as the strain in Raffe’s voice makes me ache with sympathy and dread.

  “When this is over, I promise to give you a run for your money.” He walks over and sits back down in the chair across from me. The humor in his eyes fades as he says, “Things would have been easier had I gone back to my room, but I liked how important I felt listening to that kind of conversation. I was so busy imagining how it would feel when I was able to make decisions that changed the course of people’s lives that I almost missed what Dr. Barnes said next. He asked my father if he was sure he was willing to risk Emilie sitting for the entrance exams. If not, Dr. Barnes would allow her to back out of her acceptance. He assured my father that the list of accepted students had not yet been made public. Emilie could be removed without anyone being the wiser.”

  “I’m surprised Dr. Barnes offered to let your sister step away from her application acceptance,” I say. “It’s considered treason for a colony candidate to refuse to appear for The Testing.”

  Raffe shrugs. “Dr. Barnes and my father have worked together for years. My father considers Dr. Barnes one of his closest friends. So I wasn’t as surprised as I might have been, especially since I understood the concern. Emilie’s smart, but she takes a long time to think through answers. She doesn’t perform well on timed exams. Especially when they are math- or science-based. Her teachers mentioned that issue in her evaluations, which is why Dr. Barnes presented my father with an opportunity to withdraw her name. I assumed Dr. Barnes wanted to give my father the option of having his daughter remain in Tosu City, because failure on the exams would ordinarily mean a job assignment in the colonies. But when my father refused the offer, Dr. Barnes said something that made me wonder if there wasn’t something more.”

  “What did he say?”

  “That once the list was public there would be no going back. If Emilie failed her exam, she would face the same consequences as the others and become a resource for the Commonwealth. No exceptions could be made, not even for the daughter of a good friend.” Raffe’s gaze drifts to the portrait. “My father said he didn’t care. If Emilie wasn’t strong enough to take her place at the University, then her Redirection would mean she’d still make a valuable contribution to her country. Nothing else mattered.”

  Redirection. “Maybe your father just meant that your sister would have a purpose in one of the colonies.”

  “You didn’t hear the tones of their voices, Cia.” Raffe closes his eyes as if hearing it all again. “Whatever Dr. Barnes was talking about had nothing to do with a remote colony job. If it had, he would never have asked my father to withdraw Emilie’s name. That night I lay in bed, thinking about the words Dr. Barnes had used. He said Emilie would become a resource. Something to be used. Since my father refused to change his mind, I did all I could to help Emilie pass the exam. I made her study late into the night and practice taking timed tests. But no matter how hard we studied, it wasn’t enough. I should have told her what I’d heard and made her run, but I didn’t. I thought my help was all she needed. She didn’t pass.” Tears color his words and pull at my heart. “When my father told me the news, he said she had been assigned to a job in Five Lakes Colony.”

  “Five Lakes?”

  “I know.” His eyes meet mine. “There’s no one named Emilie Jeffries working with first- and second-year students at the school in Five Lakes Colony.”

  “No.”

  Raffe rises and walks the length of the room. “For the last two years, I’ve been looking for her and the other students who didn’t pass the entrance exams. That’s how I found the street you saw today. The people who stay there want to live separately from the government, but are too afraid of what lies in the unrevitalized parts of the country to travel outside the Tosu boundaries. A few were students who fled before the entrance exam results were posted—certain they had failed. The others—they all have the
ir reasons for not wanting to be a part of what the United Commonwealth stands for. I had hoped someone there would know where Emilie was. Instead one person told me he once heard that students who failed were taken to an unrevitalized area to the east. He didn’t know why. I didn’t want to believe him, but part of me has always wondered if it’s true. My father’s position in the government has made it easy for me to meet officials who’ve traveled to the colonies and to ask questions, and I’ve learned that not a single person I’ve inquired about has ever been seen in the colony they’d supposedly been Redirected to. They’ve just disappeared. Since Tosu officials aren’t in frequent contact with Five Lakes Colony, I couldn’t verify whether Emilie was there. When I heard about you and Tomas, I asked people what you’d told them about your colony. I learned that until the official arrived to escort you to The Testing, no one from Tosu had come to Five Lakes for years. Emilie never set foot in Five Lakes Colony. I don’t know where she was sent, but I intend to find her. She deserves that much. They all do.”

  I think of Will’s twin brother and all the other students who did not pass the first round of Testing. After The Testing was over, those of us who were accepted into the University were told that the unsuccessful candidates were directed to jobs in colonies other than the ones where they were raised. When questioned, Dr. Barnes said sending them to new locations allowed them to take their places in society as adults instead of as children who would have to convince those around them to see them as full grown and capable of meaningful contributions. The explanation was logical, but after I listened to the recording on the Transit Communicator, I knew it was false. At first, I thought all the unsuccessful early-round candidates had suffered the same fate as those who failed during the fourth exam—death. But hearing Raffe’s story confirms the theory I’ve recently considered and just today heard Stacia echo. Those who are tested for the University are the best and the brightest. Killing all those who do not succeed in their candidacy is wasteful. And Dr. Barnes is not one to waste resources. Not when they can be used. The question is, for what and where?