Graduation Day
Page 75
Tomas’s hand tightens on mine, and I know he is thinking the same thing I am. We can go home.
“Do you have any more questions, Cia?”
I have dozens. But I’m sure I will never hear the answers to the most important ones. I look at President Collindar’s sincere expression and think of the tension I felt between her and Dr. Barnes the day I was assigned to my internship. I think of the worry she expressed at the number of candidates and students who came to the University and failed to graduate. She spoke of the desire to remove Dr. Barnes in order to end the practices that he perpetuated, and charged me with helping her create that change. I want to believe her. To deny that anything Dr. Barnes said about her was real. After all, he was the one who watched my Testing roommate’s body be cut free while explaining that her suicide proved The Testing’s methods worked. Could that man, who was responsible for so many deaths, have really wanted The Testing to change? Was he right about President Collindar? Is it true that she not only knows the fate of those who have been Redirected, as her own words indicate, but approves of what has been done to them? Does she believe The Testing should be made even more difficult and be inflicted upon more than just colony-born students? Despite what she says now, will The Testing that Tomas and I were forced to participate in really end?
Dr. Barnes said that my greatest asset is my ability to trust my instincts. I have to trust them now. Do I believe Dr. Barnes? I don’t want to, but I do. And now that he is dead, there is only one way to know if I am right.
“Do you have any other questions for now, Cia?” President Collindar asks again.
“Yes, I do,” I say. “Would you mind if I get my University bag from the interview room?”
She rises. “Of course not, although you understand that any tools you might have borrowed to complete your task will have to be returned to the storage facility in my office.”
It takes me two tries to get out of my chair. The room shifts but I stay on my feet. Tomas offers an arm to help me balance as I navigate the stairs, but I refuse. This is something I must do on my own.
President Collindar follows us out. I feel her eyes on us as, side by side, Tomas and I walk to the end of the now brightly illuminated lecture hall. A purple-clad official wipes blood off the floor near the entrance to the interview room. Griffin’s body has been moved. As I step through the doorway, I see a body lying on the floor with a small gun near one hand. Blood pools near the head, matting the gray hair that had given the man an air of authority and wisdom. His face is turned away from me, and though I know who it is from the clothing and the gun, I move several steps closer.
There is a bullet wound in Dr. Barnes’s shoulder that was not there when I last saw him. But that wasn’t what killed him. The three bullet wounds clustered near his heart are the obvious cause of his death. I wonder if those three holes will give me away, because never could I shoot with that kind of skill.
“As soon as we leave, they will collect the body. I gave you this task, but I wasn’t sure you would be able to see it through. When your friend told me that you had, I was pleased to know that the faith I placed in you and your abilities was not mistaken.”
“My friend?” I look at Tomas, who shrugs. He is not the one who claimed I killed Dr. Barnes. Then who?
“Yes,” she says. “The dark-haired boy with the green eyes.”
Will.
“I saw him after I heard Dr. Barnes had been killed and asked him what he knew. He was worried you’d feel guilty after everything that happened and that you wouldn’t accept the credit for what you had done. He thinks you’re a hero.”
“I’m not.” After everything that has happened, it is the only thing I am certain of.
President Collindar smiles. “I had a feeling you’d say that. The decisions that leaders have to make are never easy. Including this one. You took a life, but just think how many more were saved.”
Not Zeen’s. Lives were saved. Yes. But not by me. By Will.
I look again at the bloody hole in Dr. Barnes’s shoulder and the three precise gunshot wounds in his chest. Symon must have caused the first as he ran to find me. Symon was injured when he fired. I am not sure he could have fired with the accuracy it would have taken to create the fatal wounds. But someone who was a known marksman, like Will, could have. His main skill lies with a crossbow, as he demonstrated in the fourth test, but I remember how he took down Roman and know his skill with a gun doesn’t lag far behind. Symon might have inflicted the three wounds that killed Dr. Barnes, but my gut tells me no. This was Will’s work.
Will wasn’t here when Dr. Barnes explained his bargain with President Collindar. He couldn’t have known that crediting me with the kill was the only way to end The Testing we both despised. Yet, that is what he did. The Will I knew during the fourth test would have taken the credit for his actions. He would have wanted whatever reward he thought would come with bringing down the president’s foe. Instead, this time, he passed to me whatever accolades he felt would be delivered. Because Will isn’t just the boy who shot and betrayed. Just as I am not just the naive girl from Five Lakes. Now I have to decide for certain whether Dr. Barnes was the man I believed him to be and whether President Collindar is the person she says she is.
Walking to the table, I look at the glass Dr. Barnes drank from, and the liquid that remains at the bottom. I put the glass to my lips and take a small sip.
The flavor makes me grimace as Dr. Barnes did. Metallic. Bitter. The taste that I remember from months ago in this same room. When Dr. Barnes watched and waited and hoped that I would be confident and coherent enough to pass through to the University. He hoped I would prove that The Testing was flawed and that by my hand and through his sacrifice it all would be ended.
“Do you have any more questions, Cia?”
I have dozens. But I’m sure I will never hear the answers to the most important ones. I look at President Collindar’s sincere expression and think of the tension I felt between her and Dr. Barnes the day I was assigned to my internship. I think of the worry she expressed at the number of candidates and students who came to the University and failed to graduate. She spoke of the desire to remove Dr. Barnes in order to end the practices that he perpetuated, and charged me with helping her create that change. I want to believe her. To deny that anything Dr. Barnes said about her was real. After all, he was the one who watched my Testing roommate’s body be cut free while explaining that her suicide proved The Testing’s methods worked. Could that man, who was responsible for so many deaths, have really wanted The Testing to change? Was he right about President Collindar? Is it true that she not only knows the fate of those who have been Redirected, as her own words indicate, but approves of what has been done to them? Does she believe The Testing should be made even more difficult and be inflicted upon more than just colony-born students? Despite what she says now, will The Testing that Tomas and I were forced to participate in really end?
Dr. Barnes said that my greatest asset is my ability to trust my instincts. I have to trust them now. Do I believe Dr. Barnes? I don’t want to, but I do. And now that he is dead, there is only one way to know if I am right.
“Do you have any other questions for now, Cia?” President Collindar asks again.
“Yes, I do,” I say. “Would you mind if I get my University bag from the interview room?”
She rises. “Of course not, although you understand that any tools you might have borrowed to complete your task will have to be returned to the storage facility in my office.”
It takes me two tries to get out of my chair. The room shifts but I stay on my feet. Tomas offers an arm to help me balance as I navigate the stairs, but I refuse. This is something I must do on my own.
President Collindar follows us out. I feel her eyes on us as, side by side, Tomas and I walk to the end of the now brightly illuminated lecture hall. A purple-clad official wipes blood off the floor near the entrance to the interview room. Griffin’s body has been moved. As I step through the doorway, I see a body lying on the floor with a small gun near one hand. Blood pools near the head, matting the gray hair that had given the man an air of authority and wisdom. His face is turned away from me, and though I know who it is from the clothing and the gun, I move several steps closer.
There is a bullet wound in Dr. Barnes’s shoulder that was not there when I last saw him. But that wasn’t what killed him. The three bullet wounds clustered near his heart are the obvious cause of his death. I wonder if those three holes will give me away, because never could I shoot with that kind of skill.
“As soon as we leave, they will collect the body. I gave you this task, but I wasn’t sure you would be able to see it through. When your friend told me that you had, I was pleased to know that the faith I placed in you and your abilities was not mistaken.”
“My friend?” I look at Tomas, who shrugs. He is not the one who claimed I killed Dr. Barnes. Then who?
“Yes,” she says. “The dark-haired boy with the green eyes.”
Will.
“I saw him after I heard Dr. Barnes had been killed and asked him what he knew. He was worried you’d feel guilty after everything that happened and that you wouldn’t accept the credit for what you had done. He thinks you’re a hero.”
“I’m not.” After everything that has happened, it is the only thing I am certain of.
President Collindar smiles. “I had a feeling you’d say that. The decisions that leaders have to make are never easy. Including this one. You took a life, but just think how many more were saved.”
Not Zeen’s. Lives were saved. Yes. But not by me. By Will.
I look again at the bloody hole in Dr. Barnes’s shoulder and the three precise gunshot wounds in his chest. Symon must have caused the first as he ran to find me. Symon was injured when he fired. I am not sure he could have fired with the accuracy it would have taken to create the fatal wounds. But someone who was a known marksman, like Will, could have. His main skill lies with a crossbow, as he demonstrated in the fourth test, but I remember how he took down Roman and know his skill with a gun doesn’t lag far behind. Symon might have inflicted the three wounds that killed Dr. Barnes, but my gut tells me no. This was Will’s work.
Will wasn’t here when Dr. Barnes explained his bargain with President Collindar. He couldn’t have known that crediting me with the kill was the only way to end The Testing we both despised. Yet, that is what he did. The Will I knew during the fourth test would have taken the credit for his actions. He would have wanted whatever reward he thought would come with bringing down the president’s foe. Instead, this time, he passed to me whatever accolades he felt would be delivered. Because Will isn’t just the boy who shot and betrayed. Just as I am not just the naive girl from Five Lakes. Now I have to decide for certain whether Dr. Barnes was the man I believed him to be and whether President Collindar is the person she says she is.
Walking to the table, I look at the glass Dr. Barnes drank from, and the liquid that remains at the bottom. I put the glass to my lips and take a small sip.
The flavor makes me grimace as Dr. Barnes did. Metallic. Bitter. The taste that I remember from months ago in this same room. When Dr. Barnes watched and waited and hoped that I would be confident and coherent enough to pass through to the University. He hoped I would prove that The Testing was flawed and that by my hand and through his sacrifice it all would be ended.
