Graduation Day (The Testing, #3)(6)

Before I can ask who “they” is, the official nudges me into a small antechamber. The doors behind me close. The dim lights and gray walls make the room feel as if it is caught in shadow. A bright white door stands directly in front of me. The silver knob is polished to a shine.

A memory stirs. Six white doors with silver handles. Five marked with black numbers. The sixth is the exit. This door resembles the ones I stood in front of during the third part of The Testing. A test designed not only to evaluate our individual academic skills, but to examine our ability to assess correctly the strengths and weaknesses of our teammates.

“Malencia Vale.” A female voice emanates from a small speaker in the wall. “You may now enter.”

I put my hand on the knob and take a deep breath. During The Testing I had to make a decision—to walk through the door and face the test I found inside or to leave without entering. To believe that my teammates were working toward the same goal or to think that one who should be working for the common good had betrayed. During The Testing, I left through the exit. Today, I turn the knob and go inside.

No one is there.

The large room is painted a sunny yellow. Situated on one side is a long black table. On the other is a grouping of blue-cushioned chairs in front of a crackling fire. To the right of the fireplace is a closed door.

I open my bag, turn off the Transit Communicator, and take a seat in one of the cushioned chairs as the door opens. President Collindar stalks in. Her tall stature and sleekly cut black hair command attention, as does her fitted red jacket. She nods to acknowledge my presence and turns to speak to someone standing in the doorway behind her. “I’ve given you all the information I have. I hope you’ll be ready.”

“You can trust me,” a male voice says.

My breath catches as a gray-haired man comes into the room and gives me a broad smile. The same smile I saw him give this morning, just a moment before he pulled the trigger and ended Michal’s life. A smile that belongs to the rebel leader—Symon Dean.

Metal glints in the light as his coat shifts. He has a gun. Most likely the same one he used to murder Michal. His eyes meet mine, and I feel the pull of them just as I did when we met before. We have met only twice, during the fourth stage of The Testing, when he gave me food and water. Aid that he supplied to give the rebels a sense of victory, to keep them from feeling they could more successfully end The Testing on their own. But I am not supposed to have those memories. Any sign of recognition will be a sign that my Testing memories have returned.

Blood roars in my ears. I swallow down the anger and fear and force my expression into one of calm interest. Seconds pass, but it feels like an eternity before Symon shifts his attention from me back to the president. “Everything will be ready, but I still think you should postpone the debate.” I try not to show surprise at Symon’s words as he and the president walk farther into the room. “While postponing will be viewed by many as a sign of weakness, the extra days you gain will give us a chance to rally more votes. As it stands now—”

The president raises a hand and shakes her head. “Already there are those who waver in their support. A delay could push them to change their minds. Unless you can guarantee that you will be able to find what I need—”

“You know a guarantee is not possible.”

“Which means the debate goes ahead as planned. One way or another, by the end of the week I will declare victory.”

“Then there is much to discuss.” Symon gives a weary sigh, but I do not think I imagine the triumphant glint I see in his eyes. Suggesting the president would lose political clout by postponing her Debate Chamber proposal was his way of eliminating any thought she had of doing just that. He is smart. I hope she is even smarter.

President Collindar nods. “I will meet you downstairs as soon as I am done discussing my intern’s University experience. I thought having a student refresh my memory of the curriculum would help, considering the topic of this week’s debate. This shouldn’t take long.”

Symon casts one more look at me before nodding his head and disappearing through the door. When he is gone, President Collindar sits in a chair across from me. “I told Symon and other members of my staff that I asked you to meet with me this weekend after you finished the work you were assigned by your teachers. I thought it would be safer for you if word spread that you were here at my command instead of by your own initiative. There are events happening this week that could make it difficult for you to be seen as more than just an intern for me and my office.”

“I know,” I say.

One of the president’s eyebrows rises, but she does not speak. She simply waits for me to continue. I take a deep breath and straighten my shoulders. How I present my information is just as important as what I say. I must keep calm. In control. This is the most important test I have faced thus far in my life. Too much is riding on the correct answer. I cannot fail.

“I know your team has been searching for tangible proof that Dr. Barnes’s methods for Testing and in running the University push beyond the bounds of what is acceptable. I’ve been told that without this evidence, the vote to remove Dr. Barnes from control will be unsuccessful.”

President Collindar leans back in her chair. Her dark hair gleams against the light blue fabric as she studies me. “Your information is accurate. Could the reason you’re here now change that?”