The Testing

guide

JOELLE CHARBONNEAU

Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

Boston  New York
 Copyright © 2013 by Joelle Charbonneau

All rights reserved.

For information about permission to reproduce selections from this
book, write to Permissions, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing
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eISBN 978-0-544-08478-0
v1.0513
Today is the day.
I lean against the trunk of a thin, healthy tree and watch
the sun crest over the horizon. Thirty feet from where I sit, I
can see where green grass meets cracked earth. Brown, scrag-
gly plants. The twisted branches of trees that fight for life in
the corrupted soil. An area where my father and his team have
yet to ply their revitalization efforts. But they will. My father
is hoping I’ll be here to help. I have different plans. Today will
determine whether all of the studying, pushing myself to learn
more, will pay off. It has to.
The wind catches the edges of the papers in my hand and
pulls my focus back to where it belongs — studying. If I am
selected for The Testing today, I need to be prepared. Being
ranked first in my colony’s graduating class and being chosen
to go to Tosu City will mean nothing if I am not prepared
enough to pass The Testing and continue on to the University.
I touch the words on the cover of the booklet in my hands:
the testing preparation guide. A knot of guilt forms in my
gut as I think about the head teacher of Five Lakes Colony,
Mrs. Bryskim. Just yesterday she was saying how proud she
was of me for graduating first. How proud my father must
be to have his oldest take after him. I wonder if she’d express
that same pride if she knew I stole this booklet out of her desk
drawer?
Not that I wanted to. Stealing is not the Five Lakes way. But
what choice did I have after Mrs. Bryskim refused to let me
borrow it? I thought she understood how much I need to be
chosen. To succeed. That I have to get out of Five Lakes colony
and make my mark on the world. I don’t want to work for my
father for the rest of my life. I need the chance to make my own
mark on revitalizing our damaged world. To do that, I have to
be selected for and pass The Testing. This booklet will help me
grab hold of the future that is waiting for me.
I flip to the opening page and read the first question: De-
scribe each of the Seven Stages of War.
Easy.
In my head I list the stages — the first four stages of man-
made warfare that started on the other side of the globe and
tore apart civilization as people knew it. Then the next three
stages when the earth, corrupted by radiation and biologically
engineered weaponry, fought back. Windstorms. Tornadoes.
Earthquakes. Hurricanes. Until finally the earth quieted and
the rebuilding process could begin.
I smile as I consider how far we’ve come in more than a
hundred years. Then I move on to the next question. Explain
kinetic theory and write the formula that best explains how to de-
termine the temperature of a gas. It isn’t a difficult question, but

2
not as easy as the first. Pulling a piece of chalk and a black slate
from my bag, I get to work. Though I would prefer to write on
paper, I can’t. Not for this kind of practice. Paper is precious. In
school, paper is used only for the most important tests. Once
the test scores are determined, the paper is immediately sent off
to Ames Colony for recycling. Trees are too precious to waste
on frivolous things.
“Zeen.”
My head snaps up at the sound of my name coming from
our dwelling’s kitchen window. “I’m out here, Mom,” I yell
back, and go back to reading the next question.
“You’d better be in here in the next five minutes or you’ll be
late for graduation.”
I start to yell that I have plenty of time, but then I notice
the position of the sun in the sky. Damn. I shove my chalk,
slate, and the booklet into my bag, sling it over my shoulder,
and head for the house. I will have to study later. Mom is right.
Graduation is important. I don’t want to be late.
My mother fusses over every detail. I let her even though the
way she frets and fiddles makes me want to scream. No matter
how I brush my hair, it’s not right. Finally, Mom takes over,
which makes my brother Hamin snort with laughter. We’ll see
how funny he finds it in two years when Mom does the same
to him.
Finally, after more than an hour of buffing dirt and grime
only my mother can see from my boots and a lot of jokes from
my twin brothers, Win and Hart, Mom declares me present-
able. A glance in the reflector tells me she’s right. My blond hair
is neatly swept back behind my ears. My chin is whisker-free.

3
As I straighten the deep purple sleeve of my tunic, I smile.
Purple. The ceremonial color of adulthood. I am a man.
As the rest of the family hurries to get ready, I pull the book-
let from my bag and take a seat at the scarred oak kitchen table,
hoping there is time for just one more question.
“Are you nervous?” asks my favorite voice in the world.
Without regret, I push the booklet aside and smile into my
little sister Cia’s deep brown eyes. “Not a bit. All I have to do is
stand on stage and listen to a bunch of speeches. That’s nothing
to be nervous about.”
“Then why have you been getting up so early and studying
like your life depends on it?”
I laugh. Although her tiny stature and dark curls make my
sister look younger than her ten years, she is smarter than al-
most anyone in Five Lakes. Except for our father, the magis-
trate, Dr. Flint, and me. It doesn’t come as a surprise that she
has noticed my Testing preparations while others have not.
“I’m just making sure I’m ready in case I get chosen for The
Testing, kiddo.”
Cia’s teasing smile fades. “You’re going to get chosen. Ev-
eryone says you’re the smartest student to graduate from Five
Lakes in the last ten years. I overheard Mom talking to Dad
about it this morning. She’s sure you’re going to be chosen and
you’ll go away forever.”
The tears lurking in my sister’s voice have me pulling her up
onto my lap the way I did when she was a toddler. “What did
Dad say?”
“He told Mom that she should be more concerned with
what’s going to happen if you don’t get chosen. He doesn’t

4
think you’ll be happy living in Five Lakes with us. That’s not
true, is it?”
I do the only thing I can. I lie. “I’ll be happy no matter
what. I promise.”
“Good.” Cia wraps her arms around my neck and hugs me
tight. Which I’m glad for, because it means she can’t see the an-
ger that must show on my face. Our father went to the Univer-
sity. He should be pleased that I have worked hard to be chosen
in order to follow in his footsteps. But instead of being proud
and hoping for my success, my father is planning for how he
will placate me when I fail.
I have worked too hard. There is no one who has worked
harder. I can’t fail.
But I do.
I stand on the stage so proud. So confident. I look out at the
gathering of our entire colony — just over nine hundred people
strong — and smile. I don’t care how long the presentation is or
how many announcements the magistrate and other leaders
need to make. This yearly event is the only opportunity to
address the entire colony. Why should I begrudge them their
announcements about building a barn or constructing a new
fountain in the square in honor of the man who helped purify our
water? While my fellow graduates fidget, anxious for the event
to be over, I stand with my hands clasped behind my back. Pa-
tient. Because the prize I’ve waited so long for is coming.
Only it never arrives. No Tosu Official takes the stage. No
announcement about Testing candidates selected. Nothing but
the stab of defeat followed by bone-chilling shame.
The minute the sky turns dark, I slip away from the gradua-
tion celebration. No more smiling to hide the bitterness of dis-

5
appointment. No more pretending to be excited to start work
with my father.
For the first time, I am grateful for the isolated location of
my family’s dwelling. Normally, I get irritated being so far from
friends. Today, the long walk by hazy moonlight gives me time
to think. My father offered me a job working with him. Every-
one expects me to take it. It’s only natural. I want to be part
of the country’s revitalization. My father is doing important
work.
And yet, I don’t want to stay in Five Lakes, where I know
every face and everyone knows mine. I could apply to Tosu
City and hope they find a job for me in another colony, but the
chances of that happening are rare. If I want to see more of the
world than Five Lakes, I have to do it on my own.
When I reach our home, I am glad to know no one will dis-
turb me as decide what choices I still have left for my future. I
pass through the living room into the bedroom I share with my
brothers and sister and flip on the light Cia built out of spare
wire and solar panels. As I cross the threshold, the purple tunic
I’d been so pleased to wear hits the floor. I give it a kick under
the bottom bunk of my bed and try to decide what to do next.
I should get ready for sleep, but instead I find myself pull-
ing on my work clothes and my most comfortable boots. I take
several more shirts out of the wooden trunk at the foot of my
bed. Three pairs of socks. Two pairs of pants. I grab my bag,
pull the practice test out, and throw it on the floor. Funny how
just hours ago those pages seemed so important. Now they are
nothing compared to the need to pack. To leave Five Lakes
Colony behind me. To run far and fast from my failure. To do
it now.

6
 “I had a feeling I’d find you here.”
The sound of my father’s voice makes my heart stop. I’d
been so focused on gathering my things, I never heard him
come in. Taking a deep breath, I turn and face the man I’ve
always been told I look like. The man I’ve always wanted to
make proud. “I thought you’d still be at the party.”
“Did you intend to leave without saying goodbye?”
The bag in my hand feels impossibly heavy. “I don’t know.”
The truth of the words makes the shame inside me grow.
My father nods. “I know you wanted to be selected for The
Testing, but I’m relieved you weren’t. Especially after seeing
you now.” He points to my packed bag. “Your passion is one
of your greatest assets even as it is your biggest flaw. You always
lead with emotion and think through the consequences later.
It’s the reason you’d never have survived The Testing.”
Anger flares hot and deep in my stomach. “I know how to
take a test. I would have passed.”
“The Testing is about more than the right answers. A great
deal more.”
“How would I know what The Testing is about?” I throw
the bag to the floor. “You never talk about it. It might have
helped me get selected if you had, but never once did you tell
me what The Testing was like.”
“That’s because I can’t.” My father runs a hand through
his hair. The hurt in his eyes drains away, leaving sadness and
something more haunting behind. “The United Common-
wealth has procedures in place to ensure that successful can-
didates can never reveal their Testing experience. But I can tell
you this — the Testing doesn’t always reward the smartest or
the fastest to finish the test. Unlike you, I was not at the top of

7
my colony’s class. There were candidates smarter than me who
walked through The Testing Center’s doors. Whatever hap-
pened inside was too much for them. They never walked out.”
My father’s admission that he wasn’t the smartest of his class
surprises me. I always assumed he was. Now I am forced to
wonder what else about my life is not as it seems.
“Look,” my father continues. “I understand you’re disap-
pointed, but leaving Five Lakes isn’t the answer. At least not
today.”
I cock my head to the side. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Dad’s eyes meet mine. “There are things outside the safety of
Five Lakes Colony that you don’t understand. That you aren’t
prepared to deal with. You’ve only seen glimpses of the dam-
aged world that exists out there.”
“Whose fault is that?” Frustration storms through me and
punches through my words.
“Mine.” My father shouts back. “I take responsibility for
keeping you sheltered, and I will not apologize for making
choices that have kept my children safe. There is more than
poisoned water, rabid animals, and a lack of food waiting lurk-
ing outside Five Lakes.”
“Like what?”
“Promise you won’t run off in anger. That you’ll stay in Five
Lakes and let me help prepare you for what exists beyond our
colony’s borders. If in a couple years you still want to leave, I
swear I won’t stand in your way.” Before I can answer, he adds,
“Don’t give me your answer now. Sleep on it. The world will
still be waiting tomorrow.”
With that he’s gone, taking my anger with him. All that
remains in its place is the weary ache of misery.

8
 Stay home and hope to find answers?
Leave and on my own discover the secrets my father hints
at?
Fatigue jumbles my thoughts together. My head pounds.
Bitterness churns my stomach as I try to focus. When I can’t,
I am forced to admit Dad is right. I cannot make the decision
now. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll be rested. If I choose to, tomor-
row is soon enough to leave.
My brothers are still sleeping when I wake and carefully
slide out of bed. Cia’s bed is empty. Not a surprise, since Win is
snoring. Carefully, I slip out of the room and smile as I spot the
tiny body curled up in front of the fireplace. In that moment,
my choice to leave or stay is made. While I love my parents and
brothers, Cia is special. I’m the one she comes to when she’s
worried or confused. She’s the one person I know needs me. So
for now, I will stay and learn what Dad has to teach. Once Cia
is older and Dad has shared what secrets he knows . . .
Who knows.
I’m so focused on my own problems that I barely notice
the booklet clutched in Cia’s hand. The same booklet I studied
yesterday morning. Cia must have found it on the floor in our
bedroom.
Careful to step around the floorboards that squeak, I cross
to where Cia is sleeping. When I reach to take the booklet from
her hands I notice how tightly she holds it. As if it is as impor-
tant to her as it was to me.
So, instead of retrieving it, I go in search of my father to tell
him that I will stay and leave the study guide clutched tight in
my sister’s hands. After all, what harm could encouraging her
dreams do?

9
Malencia Vale

TEST 1 - HISTORY
Authorized by THE TESTING
for
The United Commonwealth

Q: Explain the First Stage of the War of the Nations.

A: The assassination of Prime Minister Chae fractured the Asian
Alliance and sparked a power struggle among the other nations
and a civil war. During the civil war, bombs were dropped on
the Korean States, destroying most of the population and caus-
ing the meltdown of two nuclear reactors.

Q: What were the first two genetically altered crops to be

cultivated successfully in the fields outside Tosu City?
A: Wheat and corn.

Q: Explain the cause of the Fifth, Sixth, and Seventh Stages

of War and their impact on North America.
A: Use of nuclear and biological weapons increased the pressure
near fault lines. This sudden rise of pressure caused earthquake
swarms and aftershocks that began in what was once the state
of California and traveled across the continent. Earthquakes
also disrupted the ocean floors, triggering the first of the floods
that signaled the start of the Sixth Stage and submerged what
remained of the coastal states, destroying most of the popula-
tion. The Seventh Stage was marked by a shift in the weather
patterns. Tornadoes, radioactive windstorms, and droughts
caused the population to decrease even further and tainted all

10
but the hardiest of plants, animals, and food sources. When
the weather calmed, those who survived could finally begin to
rebuild.

Q: Why was Tosu City chosen as the site for the United
Commonwealth capital?
A: Because of the non-strategic nature of the state of Kansas,
the city of Wichita was not targeted during the first four stages
of war. While earthquakes and tornadoes ripped apart the
north side of the city, the majority of the city was untouched,
making it the ideal site to start the rebuilding process. The city
name was changed from Wichita to Tosu to symbolize the hope
of a people set on rebuilding what was lost.

Do you think you have what it takes to pass

THE TESTING?

11
Chapter 1

Graduation day.
I can hardly stand still as my mother straightens my celebra-
tory red tunic and tucks a strand of light brown hair behind
my ear. Finally she turns me and I look in the reflector on our
living area wall. Red. I’m wearing red. No more pink. I am an
adult. Seeing evidence of that tickles my stomach.
“Are you ready, Cia?” my mother asks. She too is wearing
red, although her dress is made of a gossamer fabric that drapes
to the floor in soft swirls. Next to her, my sleeveless dress and
leather boots look childish, but that’s okay. I have time to grow
into my adult status. I’m young for it at sixteen. The youngest
by far in my class.
I take one last look in the reflector and hope that today is
not the end of my education, but I have no control over that.
Only a dream that my name will be called for The Testing.
Swallowing hard, I nod. “Let’s go.”
 Graduation is held in the colony square among the stalls
filled with baked goods and fresh milk because the school isn’t
large enough to hold all the people who will attend. The en-
tire colony attends graduation, which only makes sense since
everyone in the colony is related to at least one of the students
crossing over to adulthood or celebrating their promotion to
the next grade. This year is the largest graduating class the Five
Lakes Colony has had. Eight boys, six girls. A clear sign the
colony is thriving.
My father and four brothers, all dressed in ceremonial adult
purple, are waiting for us outside our dwelling. My oldest
brother, Zeen, shoots me a smile and ruffles my hair. “Are you
ready to be done with school and get out into the real world
with the rest of us slobs?”
My mother frowns.
I laugh.
Zeen and my other brothers are definitely not slobs. In
fact, girls practically throw themselves at them. But while my
brothers aren’t immune to flirting, none of them seems inter-
ested in settling down. They’re more interested in creating the
next hybrid tomato plant than starting a family. Zeen most
of all. He’s tall, blond, and smart. Very, very smart. And yet
he never got chosen for The Testing. The thought takes away
the shine from the day. Perhaps that’s the first rule I will learn
as an adult — that you can’t always get what you want. Zeen
must have wanted to continue on to the University — to fol-
low in Dad’s footsteps. He must know what I’m feeling. For
a moment, I wish I could talk to him. Ask him how he got
through the disappointment that most likely is awaiting me.
Our colony will be lucky to have one student chosen for The

2
Testing — if any at all. It has been ten years since the last stu-
dent from Five Lakes was chosen. I’m good at school, but there
are those who are better. Much better. What chance do I have?
With a forced smile, I say, “You bet. I can’t stay in school if I
plan on running the colony by the time all of you are married.”
Hart and Win blush. They are two years older than me and
the idea of marriage and dating makes them run for cover. The
two of them are happy working side by side in the nursery,
growing the flowers and trees Dad has created to withstand the
corrupted earth at the outskirts of the colony.
“No one will be doing much of anything if we don’t get
moving.” Mother’s voice is sharp as she heads off down the
path. My brothers and father quickly follow. Zeen’s and Ha-
min’s lack of marriage prospects is a sore spot for our mother.
Because of Dad’s job, our house is farther from the center
of the colony than most. My brothers and father have made
the ground around our small house bloom green with plants
and trees, but a hundred feet past our front door the earth is
cracked and brittle. Though some grass and a few scraggly trees
do grow. Dad tells me the earth to our west is far worse, which
is why our leaders decided to place the Five Lakes Colony here.
Usually, I ride my bicycle to town. A couple of citizens own
cars, but fuel and solar cells big enough to run them are too
precious for everyday use. Today, I trail behind my family as we
walk the almost five miles to the colony’s community square.
Square is really the wrong word, but we use it anyway. It’s
shaped more like a turtle with an oval center and some append-
ages to the sides. There is a beautiful fountain in the middle
that sprays clear, sparkling water into the air. The fountain is
a luxury since clean water is not always easy to come by. But

3
we are allowed the waste and the beauty in order to honor the
man who discovered how to remove the contamination from
the lakes and ponds after Stage Seven. What is left of the oceans
is harder to clean.
The ground becomes greener and birds sing the closer we
get to the center of the colony. Mom doesn’t talk much on the
way. Zeen teases her that she doesn’t want me to grow up, but
I don’t think that’s the case.
Or maybe it is.
Mom and I get along fine, but the past couple of years she
has seemed distant. Less willing to help me with my home-
work. More interested in getting the boys married and talking
about where I will apprentice when I finish school. Any discus-
sion of me being selected for The Testing is not welcome. So,
I talk to her less and less and to my father more and more. He
doesn’t change the subject when I speak about going further in
my education, although he doesn’t actively encourage me. He
doesn’t want to see me disappointed, I guess.
The sun is hot and sweat drips down my back as we trek up
the final hill. The sounds of music and laughter from just out
of sight have me quickening my step. Just before we reach the
top, Dad puts his arm around me and asks me to wait while the
others go on ahead.
The excitement over the hill pulls at me, but I stay put and
ask, “Is something wrong?” His eyes are filled with shadows
even though his smile is bright.
“Nothing is wrong,” he says. “I just wanted a moment with
my little girl before things get too crazy. Everything changes
the minute we go over that hill.”
“I know.”

4
 “Are you nervous?”
“Kind of.” Excitement, fear, and other emotions swirl inside
me, making it hard to tell what I’m really feeling. “It’s weird
not knowing what I’m going to do when I get up tomorrow.”
Most of my classmates have made choices about their future.
They know where they will apprentice or if they will move to
another colony to find work. Some even know who they are
going to marry. I know none of these things, although my fa-
ther has made it clear I can work with him and my brothers
if I choose. The option seems bleak at best since my thumb is
anything but green. The last time I helped my father I almost
destroyed the sunflower seedling he’d spent months creating.
Mechanical things I fix. Plants I kill.
“You’re going to get up and face whatever comes. I’ll be
proud of you no matter what today brings.”
“Even if I don’t get accepted for The Testing?”
“Especially if you don’t get accepted for The Testing.” He
smiles and gently pokes me in the belly. When I was little,
that never failed to send me into fits of laughter. Today it still
makes me grin. It’s nice to know some things never change,
even though I doubt my father’s teasing words.
Dad went to the University. That’s where he learned to ge-
netically alter plants and trees to survive in the blighted soil.
He doesn’t talk about it much, or the colony he grew up in,
probably because he doesn’t want us to feel pressured by his
success. But I do.
“You think I won’t get accepted.”
My father frowns. “I think you’re smarter than you give
yourself credit for. You never know who the search committee
might pick or why. Five of us from my grade were selected and

5
tested. The other four always did better in class, but I was the
only one who made it to the University. The Testing isn’t always
fair, and it isn’t always right.”
“But you’re not sorry you went. Look at the amazing things
you do every day because of it.” The trees next to us are filled
with blooms promising apples in the months to come. Bushes
of wild blackberries grow next to daisies and other flowers I
never learned the names of but know Dad was a part of creat-
ing. When I was small, these things didn’t exist. At least not
the healthy versions dotting the hills today. Even now I can
remember the empty ache of going to bed hungry. Food had
been scarce as Dad worked with farmers to make things grow.
And they had. In Five Lakes Colony, we are careful not to
waste, but hunger is no longer our primary concern. My father
is the reason why.
“I can’t be sorry about something I had no choice in.” His
eyes go far away as the birds chirp around us. Finally, he smiles,
although his eyes never clear of whatever memories are captur-
ing his attention. “Besides, I wouldn’t have moved here and
met your mother if I hadn’t gone to the University. Then where
would I be?”
“Probably living at home with your parents and making
your mother worry that you’ll never get serious about your fu-
ture.”
The clouds disappear from their depths and his eyes twinkle
as he ruffles my hair. “Sounds like a fate worse than death.”
Which is what my mother makes it sound like every time she
tells Zeen that life is passing him by. “Come on. Your mother
is going to sound the alarm if we don’t get moving. I just want
you to remember one thing. I believe in you. No matter what.”

6
 Arm in arm we start up and over the hill to join the festivi-
ties. I smile, but deep in my heart I worry that Dad has always
expected me to fall short of his achievements. That I will disap-
point — no matter what.

Because the colony is spread out over many miles, this is the
one guaranteed occasion every year when the entire popula-
tion of Five Lakes gathers together. Once in a while we all
congregate when there is a message from our country’s lead-
ers that needs to be delivered to everyone, but those occasions
are rare. At just over nine hundred citizens, our colony is one
of the smallest and farthest from Tosu City, where the United
Commonwealth government is based. We don’t rank much at-
tention, which is fine by most of us. We do well on our own.
Outsiders aren’t shunned, but they aren’t exactly embraced
with open arms. They have to convince us they belong.
The square is quite large, but the space feels small with
so many people dressed in their ceremonial finery. Shops for
candles, baked goods, shoes, and all sorts of household items
line the outside edge of the square. The shops will close when
graduation begins, but now they are doing a brisk business as
citizens who don’t often get into town purchase or trade for
necessary items. The United Commonwealth coin is rare in
our colony, but the few people on the government payroll, like
Dad, use it.
“Cia!” The waving hand catches my attention as my best
friend Daileen comes barreling toward me. Her blond hair and
pink dress flutter as she dodges groups of chatting citizens to
reach me. She clutches a cone with rapidly melting pink ice
cream in her hand. Squeezing me in a tight hug, she says, “Can

7
you believe you’re graduating? This is so exciting. They’re even
giving away free ice cream.”
I hug her back, careful to avoid the melting cone. My
mother will have a fit if I get a stain on my new dress before
graduation begins. “Exciting and scary. Don’t forget the scary
part.”
Daileen is the only one I’ve talked to about my fears of the
future if I don’t get chosen for The Testing. She looks around to
make sure no one is listening and says, “My father heard there’s
a special guest who’s supposed to speak today.”
Graduation Day has a lot of speakers. Our teachers will
speak, as will the magistrate and a number of other Five Lakes
leaders. When the entire colony gets together there is never a
lack of things to talk about. So the special guest doesn’t sound
all that special until Daileen adds, “My father says the guest is
from Tosu City.”
That gets my attention. “Someone from Tosu is here?” The
last time an official from Tosu came to Five Lakes Colony was
three years ago when our old magistrate died. Two men and
a woman came to the colony to select the new colony leader.
Mostly Tosu City communicates with us through proclama-
tions or radio communications with our magistrate.
“That’s what my father heard.” Daileen licks the melted ice
cream streaking the back of her hand. “Dad thinks he’s here to
escort a candidate for The Testing. That could be you.” For a
minute her smile falters. “I’ll really miss you.”
Daileen and I are only two weeks apart in age and have been
best friends since the age of three. Her parents enrolled her
in school at the mandatory age of six. My parents decided to

8
send me at five, which is why we are not in the same class. She
is the shyer, smarter, and gentler of the two of us. She is also
the one less likely to make new friends unless someone else is
there to get the conversation going. Without me pushing her to
engage others in conversation during lunch and hang out after
classes, she will probably eat alone and go home to an empty,
sad house long before everyone else leaves the school grounds.
Her mother died two years ago in an accident and her father,
while nice, isn’t home much, leaving Daileen alone to deal with
the chores and the memories. I try to keep her in good spirits
while we’re at school, but some days the shadows overwhelm
her. I worry one day those shadows will swallow her whole
without someone to chase them away.
I give her another quick hug and say, “Every year there’s a
rumor about a Tosu official coming to graduation.” Although
a small part of me can’t help yearning for this year’s rumor to
be true. To distract myself as much as Daileen, I add, “Now, I
want to get some of that ice cream before it’s gone. Okay?”
I enlist other friends, many of them going into their final
year of school, in our search for strawberry ice cream, hop-
ing that one of them will take Daileen under their wing when
classes begin again in a few weeks. If not, I will find a way to
make things easier for Daileen.
My mother waves at me and frowns, so I leave a smiling
Daileen with the other students and cross the square to the
fountain where she waits. Almost everyone I pass waves or
says hello. Our family moves to new dwellings almost every
year — to whatever section of the colony the magistrate thinks
needs Dad’s skill the most. All the moving makes it hard to feel

9
attached to a home, but unlike most citizens, who know only
their neighbors and former schoolmates, I know the majority
of the people in our colony by sight.
Kids still too young for school, dressed in pale yellows and
greens, dance around the twelve-foot-wide circular fountain,
occasionally splashing each other with the water. But they
avoid the area where my mother is seated. Her expression says
that getting her wet will bring a scolding. Something I’m prob-
ably going to get no matter what.
My mother studies me. “Your hair is a mess. What have you
been doing?”
My hair is always a mess between the curls and the frizz. I’ve
suggested cutting it short, but my mother insists that long, cas-
cading hair is a necessary asset for an unmarried young woman.
If my hair came even close to cascading I might agree with her.
The sound of drums and trumpets compels my mother to
stop her assault on my hair. My insides do a flip. Then another.
It is time to take my place among the students. Graduation is
about to begin.
My father and brothers appear out of the crowd and give
me hugs before I head for the raised platform where my fel-
low graduates and I are expected to stand throughout the cere-
mony. It’s often said that getting through eleven years of school
is easier than standing through the two or more hours it takes
to leave it. I am hoping whoever said that was just joking.
We line up as directed across the back of the stage. Boys in
back. Girls in front. Which I am thankful for, because other-
wise I wouldn’t be able to see anything. My brothers inherited
my mother’s and father’s height, whereas I am a throwback to

10
another generation. At five feet, two inches, I am the shortest
girl in my class.
Ms. Jorghen, our teacher, fusses with our positioning and
reminds us at least a dozen times to smile, stand straight, and
pay attention. This is her first Graduation Day in Five Lakes
Colony so she is no doubt nervous. Once she is happy with our
arrangement on the stage, she takes her place in the middle of
the platform and the trumpets and drums sound again. Mag-
istrate Owens appears in the doorway of her house — the only
three-story structure on the square — and walks stiffly through
the crowd. She is a robust, gray-haired woman with deep lines
on her face. Her red dress is a darker color than most, more of
a rust tone. The minute she reaches the podium at the front of
the stage, she leans into the microphone that is set to amplify
her voice across the square and announces, “Happy Gradua-
tion Day.”
We all say the words back to her and several citizens ap-
plaud. Magistrate Owens waits for the square to grow quiet
again before saying, “Graduation Day is an exciting time for us
all, but especially for the students behind me. After today, they
will become a very welcome addition to our colony’s work-
force. Twenty-five years ago, the United Commonwealth gov-
ernment decided to send 150 men, women, and children to
this area. They created Five Lakes Colony in the hopes that our
hard work could make the scarred earth that was once rich with
farmland and forests thrive. The five lakes that we are named
after were once called the Great Lakes. With the aid of our
citizens, we are helping restore them to their original name.
We have needed every member of our community to make this

11
happen. Graduation Day adds fourteen of you to our cause and
for that we are fortunate. Each step we take forward creates the
need for more hands to help cultivate progress. Trust me when
I say we can never have enough hands. I know many of you
have not yet decided what careers you will embark upon, but
all of us are grateful for whatever work you will do here in the
years to come.”
The crowd applauds. My heart swoops with nerves and ex-
citement as Magistrate Owens announces, “Let the Graduation
Day parade begin.”
I bite my lip to keep it from trembling as the trumpets and
drums take up a marching melody. My eyes blur with unshed
tears, blinding me for a moment to the entrance of my soon-
to-be former schoolmates. Every year the students from the
school parade into the square one class at a time to great ap-
plause. Each class makes a banner that two students carry at the
front to announce what lessons were learned this year. After the
ceremony, the banners will be displayed in the square and the
favorite one will be voted on. There is often friendly betting
among the adults as to which class will win. For the first time,
I am not among those parading, and it hits me that I never will
be again.
The youngest class leads the parade, followed by the next
oldest and so on. They march around the fountain to the beat
of the drums and over to an area left of the stage that is roped off
for them. When all ten classes are standing near the stage, Mag-
istrate Owens talks about the new train system that has been
developed between Tosu City and ten of the other colonies and
the plans to continue construction until all colonies are reach-

12
able by rail. From my place on the stage I can see the crowd’s
excitement at the news. When she is done relating news from
the United Commonwealth, Magistrate Owens invites the citi-
zens in charge of water, power, agriculture, and other revitaliza-
tion projects to make announcements. These take more than
an hour and range from reminders about proper water usage to
requests for volunteers to help build dwellings for newly mar-
ried couples. Even my father makes an announcement about a
new, hardier breed of potato that his team developed.
I blink and try not to show my surprise. Not at the new
potato. That I knew about. The old strain of potato had a half-
inch hard skin that turned black when exposed to air. Some-
thing to do with whatever genetic enhancement Dad gave it
to survive in the blighted soil in the first place. For the most
part no one cared about the black skin. Once you cut away the
outside, the potato was safe to eat. But Zeen decided to try his
hand at a new version and succeeded brilliantly. So, no, it is not
the potatoes that have caught me off-guard, but the words Dad
uses to announce them. Last week he told us that Zeen was go-
ing to get full credit for the project.
But he doesn’t. Zeen’s name is never mentioned.
I crane my neck, trying to see Zeen in the crowd. Does
he look disappointed? This was supposed to be a moment of
triumph for him. Is he as confused as I am? I find him leaning
against a tree in the middle of the applauding crowd. Several
people are slapping him on the back because he is a member
of Dad’s team. But his smile doesn’t fool me. The set of his jaw
and the narrowing of his eyes tell me better than words that he
has felt the slight.

13
 Dad leaves the stage to more applause and our teacher takes
his place. My stomach clenches and my breathing quickens.
This is it. I am about to graduate.
Ms. Jorghen smiles back at us. Then she says into the mi-
crophone, “I am very proud to read the roster of graduates who
today pass from their studies into adulthood.”
One by one she announces the names of our graduating
class. One by one my classmates walk to the center of the stage,
shake Magistrate Owens’s hand, and then take their place back
in line. The names are read in alphabetical order, so mine isn’t
called until the end.
“Malencia Vale.”
My legs are unsteady from nerves and stiff from standing. I
walk over to the podium and shake both Ms. Jorghen’s and the
magistrate’s hands while the crowd applauds. Daileen’s cheers
can be heard above all others, and her smile makes me respond
with one of my own. My heart soars. I’m officially an adult. I
did it.
Still grinning, I return to my place with my class as Magis-
trate Owens takes the podium. The crowd goes silent. A ripple
of anticipation makes my stomach churn. My hands clench and
unclench in anticipation. If any students have been selected
for The Testing, this is when it will be announced. I crane my
neck, trying to spot an unknown face in the crowd — the ru-
mored Tosu City official.
Only there is no Tosu City official. Magistrate Owens gives
us all a big smile and says, “Congratulations to all of this year’s
students and especially to our graduates. I can’t wait to see what
your futures hold.”

14
 The crowd cheers again and my lips curl into an automatic
smile even as disappointment and tears lodge in my throat. I
have been preparing for this day for years and now it is over. As
are my dreams for the future. No matter how hard I worked, I
wasn’t good enough to be chosen for The Testing.
As I leave the stage and am given hugs of congratulations by
my friends, I can only wonder, What will I do now?

15
Chapter 2

“Hiding?”
I startle at my brother’s voice. Zeen’s knowing smile makes
the denial I was about to give die on my lips. Instead, I shrug.
“Things have been kind of crazy today. I just needed a few min-
utes to catch my breath.”
Guitars, drums, and several horns play music in front of
the bakery while dozens of people dance and clap their hands
to the beat. On the other side of the square, roasted meats
continue to be sliced and carved. A combination of torchlight
and electricity illuminates the rest of the square where peo-
ple laugh, sing, and play games. But the light doesn’t reach
me in the shadows where I stand. For the past few hours, I’ve
been dancing and singing because it is expected. To do any-
thing less would be to show my disappointment, which would
also reveal my arrogance in thinking I was smart enough to be
chosen.
 “Here.” Zeen hands me a cup with an understanding nod.
“You could use this.”
The drink is sweet, but underneath there is the distinct fla-
vor of something sharp and bitter. Alcohol. Since most fruits
and grains that can be turned into alcohol are needed to feed
Five Lakes Colony citizens, very little of the crop is turned into
liquor. But a small amount is set aside every year for special
occasions — like graduation night. Only adults are allowed to
consume the special drinks, but my brothers have allowed me
to sip from their cups in the past. The flavor isn’t to my liking,
so I only take a quick sip and pass the cup back to Zeen.
“Feel better, kiddo?”
I look down to avoid his eyes. “Not exactly.”
“Yeah.” He leans back against a large oak tree and drains the
rest of the liquid from the cup. “Things don’t always work out
the way we hope. You just have to pick yourself up and find a
new direction to go in.”
The edge to his voice makes me ask, “Is that what you’re go-
ing to do then?” In the past couple years Zeen had toyed with
seeing what opportunities existed outside of Five Lakes. I would
hate it if he did it now. Having him leave our colony would
be sad. Knowing he’d be leaving mad would break my heart.
His hand tightens around the cup, but his words are mild
when he answers, “I’m not sending an application to Tosu
City, if that’s what you mean. The magistrate asked Dad to
change his announcement today, so he did. You know me. I’ll
be pissed for a few days and then I’ll get over it.” He shrugs,
and his eyes shift to the party in the square. It’s getting late.
While some will dance and sing until morning, many are

17
already starting to make the journey home. Graduation Day
is coming to an end.
After several minutes, Zeen says, “You could do it, you
know.”
“Do what?”
“Talk to the magistrate. Send an application to Tosu City.”
The thought is both terrifying and tempting. Any colonist
interested in working in Tosu City or another colony can fill
out an application and file it with the magistrate’s office. The
United Commonwealth government will then contact the ap-
plicant with an appropriate job assignment if one is available.
In my sixteen years, I’ve known of only two applicants who
were contacted and offered positions. After the disappointment
of today, I’m not sure I’m ready to face another.
My uncertainty must show on my face, because Zeen throws
an arm around my shoulders and gives me a quick hug. “Don’t
worry, kiddo. You have lots of time to figure out what you’re
going to do with the rest of your life.”
Too bad Mom doesn’t agree.
We all sleep late the next morning, but I’ve barely had a
chance to get dressed before my mother says, “If you are de-
termined not to work with your father, Kip Drysten has an
opening on his team. You should talk to him before one of the
other graduates takes the position.”
Kip Drysten’s team repairs farming equipment. While I like
working with mechanical things, the idea of repairing broken-
down tractors for the rest of my life is depressing. “I’ll think
about it,” I say.
My mother’s frown speaks volumes, which is why I find my-

18
self climbing on my bicycle and slowly riding toward town in
search of Mr. Drysten.
The Drystens live in a small, pretty cottage on the other side
of the colony. Knocking on the front door, I swallow hard. I
can’t help the swell of relief I feel when Mr. Drysten’s wife tells
me that Kip left early this morning for the Endress farm. He
isn’t expected back for several days. I’ve been granted a reprieve.
The day after graduation is a day of rest. Most businesses are
closed. Families stay home to hold more private celebrations.
My mother is planning a large meal later and even has invited a
few of my friends over to share. I should probably go home and
help with the preparations. Instead, I get off my bicycle when I
reach the town square.
I lean my bicycle against a tree and sit next to the fountain.
One or two citizens wave, but they are busy and don’t stop to
talk. Which I prefer. Resting my head on my hands, I watch
the water gurgle in the fountain and try to ignore the hollow-
ness that has taken root since yesterday’s ceremony. I am an
adult. Ever since I was little I watched my parents and the other
adults and wished for the day I would be one of them — confi-
dent and strong. Never have I felt so unsure of myself.
The clock above the magistrate’s house gongs. Three o’clock.
Time to get home before my mother starts to worry. I’m over
halfway there when I spot my brother Hart speeding down the
dirt path toward me. Crap. If Mom sent him to find me, I’m
really in trouble.
But it isn’t my mother looking for me. “Magistrate Owens
sent a pulse radio message to Dad just after you left the house.
You’re supposed to report to her house at four o’clock to talk

19
about your future plans. When you didn’t come home right
away, Mom sent us all out to look for you.” Hart gives me a
wicked grin. “You’d better hurry if you’re going to make it.”
He’s right. By the time I arrive back in the square, sweat is
dripping down my face, my hair is a wreck, and my stomach is
tied in knots. While my father and brothers have had occasion
to be summoned to the magistrate’s house to talk about their
various projects, this is a first for me. My future plans? I can’t
help but wonder if this summons was prompted by my moth-
er’s concern. Did she contact Magistrate Owens and enlist her
help or has my lack of career path been obvious to others? The
idea that my disappointment has been noticed by those outside
my family makes my stomach roil with shame.
Preparing for a lecture, I run my hands through my hair and
straighten my white short-sleeved tunic and gray pants before
knocking on the magistrate’s front door.
“Good. You made it.” Magistrate Owens gives me a smile
that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Please come in, Cia. Every-
one else is already here.”
Everyone else?
Magistrate Owens leads me into a large, carpeted sitting
room and four faces turn to look at me. The three people who
are seated are familiar. Gray-eyed, handsome Tomas Endress.
Shy but sweet Malachi Rourke. Beautiful, artistic Zandri
Hicks. They are fellow graduates. People I have known almost
my entire life. The other is not.
Tomas motions for me to take a seat next to him and gives
me a dimpled smile that makes it impossible not to smile in
return. Magistrate Owens crosses the room, stands next to the

20
stranger, and says, “Thank you all for coming on such short
notice. I apologize for pulling you away from your family cel-
ebrations, but it was unavoidable.” Her eyes sweep the room,
looking at each one of us. “This is Tosu City official Michal
Gallen. He intended on arriving yesterday for graduation, but
was unavoidably delayed due to a mechanical problem.”
Tosu City.
My heart tilts as Tosu City official Gallen takes a step for-
ward and pulls a folded piece of paper from his pocket. He’s
older than us, but not by much. Around Zeen’s age, with shaggy
brown hair and a lanky awkwardness that belies the authority
he must bring with him from Tosu.
His dark eyes are serious as he looks down at the paper and
reads, “Every year the United Commonwealth reviews the
achievements of the graduates in all eighteen colonies. The top
students from that pool of graduates are brought to Tosu City
for Testing to attend the University. Being chosen is an honor.
The graduates of the University are our great hope — the ones
we are all counting on to help regenerate the earth and improve
our quality of life. They are the future scientists, doctors, teach-
ers, and government officials.” The paper lowers, and he gives
us a smile. “You four have been selected to participate in The
Testing.”
A wave of excitement washes over me. I look around to see
if I have heard correctly. Tomas’s face is lit with a smile. He is
the smartest in our class, so it is no wonder he has been chosen.
According to this Tosu City official, I have too. Four of us have.
This is real. I won’t have to work with tractors. I have been cho-
sen for The Testing. I did it.

21
 “You will leave for The Testing tomorrow.”
The glow of happiness fades as the reality of the Tosu City
official’s words slam into my chest. We leave tomorrow.
“Why tomorrow?” Magistrate Owens asks. “I remember
there being more time in between selection and The Test-
ing.”
“Things have changed since your colony last had a Testing
candidate,” the Tosu City official answers. His voice is deep
with a hint of impatience. “The candidates will begin the Test-
ing process this week. I think you’ll agree they stand a better
chance of passing if they arrive on time.”
“What if we don’t want to go?”
We all turn to look at Zandri. Her face is almost the same
crimson shade as her tunic. At first I think it is from embarrass-
ment. Then she lifts her chin. By the way her blue eyes glitter,
it is clear she is angry. The fact that four of us were chosen for
The Testing is astonishing, but Zandri being one of the four is
perhaps the bigger surprise. Not that Zandri isn’t smart. She is,
although many of us would think of her as an artist first and a
scholar second. Zandri only excels at science when it helps her
create new paints. And while she has never indicated a desire
to continue her education, I am still surprised at her question.
Who would turn down the honor of being chosen for The Test-
ing?
The Tosu City official smiles, and I shiver. It is a smile de-
void of warmth. “You don’t have a choice. The law states that
every United Commonwealth citizen chosen must present
him- or herself for The Testing by the appointed date or face
punishment.”

22
 “What kind of punishment?” Zandri looks to Magistrate
Owens, who glances at the Tosu City official.
The two lock eyes before Magistrate Owens says, “Accord-
ing to the law, not presenting oneself for The Testing is a form
of treason.”
And the most common punishment for treason is death.
Someone, perhaps Malachi, whispers a protest. My chest
feels as though someone has wrapped his arms around me
and squeezed tight. All my excitement about being chosen is
gone — replaced with an icy fear. Only, there is no reason to
fear. I want to be tested. Punishment will not be required for
me.
Or for any of my fellow candidates. At the word treason, the
fight goes out of Zandri.
Seeing our shock, Magistrate Owens explains that the law
that governs the punishment for not accepting our place in The
Testing goes back to the very early days of the United Com-
monwealth. There were lawless factions that wished to tear
apart the new government and tried to convince Testing candi-
dates to rebel. There is talk of the law being changed, but these
things take time.
I feel a bit better knowing the law hasn’t been invoked in
decades, and the excitement that had been extinguished begins
to resurface as the magistrate discusses the basics we will need
to bring with us to Tosu City. Testing candidates are allowed to
bring two changes of everyday clothing. Two sets of undergar-
ments. One set of nightclothes. Two pairs of shoes. Two per-
sonal items. No books. No papers. Nothing that might give
one candidate an advantage over another. Everything must fit

23
in the bags we will be given when we leave the meeting. We are
expected to be in the square tomorrow at first light, with our
bags. Tosu City official Michal Gallen will be waiting to escort
us to the Testing Center.
She then tells us how proud she is of our achievements and
says she is certain we will all be successful in our Testing. But I
know she’s lying. My mother has the same forced, overly bright
smile when she’s upset. Magistrate Owens does not think we
will all pass. Does she worry that our failure will reflect poorly
on Five Lakes Colony?
I’m still wondering as we are escorted toward the front en-
trance.
Bright sunshine greets us as the door swings open. I am the
last of the four to take a dark brown bag with the red and pur-
ple United Commonwealth logo on the front from Magistrate
Owens. As I sling the thick strap over my shoulder, I realize the
dinner party my mother has painstakingly planned will have to
be cut short. Otherwise, I will not have enough time to pack
and prepare for whatever tomorrow brings.
Zandri is already gone when I step outside, but Tomas and
Malachi are waiting. For a moment the three of us stare at one
another, uncertain what to say. I’m not surprised when Tomas
is the first to find his voice. With one of his wide, heart-stop-
ping smiles, he looks into my eyes and says, “I guess we should
go home. Tomorrow’s going to be a big day.”
And I know he’s right. It’s time to go home and tell my fam-
ily that tomorrow I will leave the house in the morning and I
won’t return.

24
Chapter 3

The sound of my family’s laughter greets me as I open the

front door. A congratulatory banner hangs on the far wall. The
kitchen table is covered with plates stacked high with bread,
meats, and sweets for my graduation celebration. Now it will
also be a party of farewell.
“There she is,” Zeen yells as he spots me in the doorway. “I
told you she wouldn’t be late for her own party. Not when cin-
namon bread is involved.”
My father turns with a smile. The minute he spots the bag
hanging from my shoulder, the smile fades and recognition
blooms in his eyes. “You’ve been chosen for The Testing.”
The laughter disappears. Smiles falter as all eyes turn to me
for confirmation. For all my happiness at being chosen, my
throat tightens when I nod. University graduates go where
United Commonwealth officials send them — where their
skills are most needed. If I succeed in passing The Testing, the
chances of my returning home are almost none.
 The twins recover first. Before I know what hits me, the
boys have me squeezed between them in one of their sandwich
hugs, yelling congratulations. Hamin hugs me next. His excite-
ment is less boisterous, but no less genuine. Then my mother
is there. Her hands shake when she embraces me, but her smile
is filled with pride as she asks what I’m allowed to bring and
when I’m supposed to leave. I barely have time to answer or
notice Zeen slipping out of the room before there is knocking
at the door signaling the arrival of my friends.
I am so happy to see them, especially Daileen. So happy I
get the chance to say goodbye in person. There are more shouts
of happiness and far more tears as I explain about The Test-
ing and the others who were selected. Daileen’s happiness and
sorrow are greatest of all. She tries to hide the sadness behind
wide smiles, but as the party continues, I notice she slips more
and more into the background, away from me, away from the
others who she has always considered more my friends than
hers. And I’m scared. While my family will feel the loss of my
presence, they still have one another. Daileen will have no one.
Which is why, when my mother tells everyone the party has
to end early, the first person I search out for farewell is Lyane
Maddows. She isn’t bouncing with excitement or yelling to get
my attention. Instead, she stands quietly near the door, wait-
ing for my brothers to escort her home. Lyane and I aren’t the
best of friends. We always say hello when we see each other,
but rarely do we sit together at lunchtime or chat after school.
But Lyane and I have a connection, which is why I invited her
today. One I know she hasn’t forgotten. I hope that memory
means I can count on her help.

26
 As the girls still squeal and chatter behind me, I wrap my
arms around Lyane and give her a hug. Her shoulders tense
with surprise, but she doesn’t pull back. In her ear, I whisper,
“Daileen needs a friend when I leave tomorrow. Will you watch
out for her and keep her from being alone? Please.”
Lyane’s arms hug me tighter. I can almost feel her weighing
my request. Her return whisper makes tears prick the back of
my eyes from relief and gratitude. Daileen will not be alone.
Lyane walks out of the house without a backwards glance as
I turn to say goodbye to the others. Daileen waits to be last. I
can tell how hard she fights to hold back tears as she promises
to see me next year in Tosu City. “I’m going to study harder
than ever. They’ll have no choice but to choose me.”
It is only the sound of Lyane’s voice from outside calling,
“Daileen, will you walk next to me?” that keeps my heart from
breaking as I watch Daileen slip out of view. Lyane knows what
the darkness of too much solitude can do to a person. I helped
pull her out of that black place four years before when I found
her at the end of the colony limits, looking over the edge of the
ravine, preparing to jump. Only, I wouldn’t let her. Instead, I
made her talk. About her father who was a government official
in Tosu City and her mother who hated living in Five Lakes
and took out her frustration and anger on her daughter. As far
as I know, Lyane has never shown anyone else but me the scars
she received at the hands of her mother. With my father’s and
the magistrate’s help, Lyane’s mother joined her husband in
Tosu City while Lyane was taken in by another Five Lakes fam-
ily and found reasons to smile. I trust Lyane to help Daileen
find those reasons, too.

27
 With my brothers acting as escorts for my friends, the house
feels larger than usual as I help my parents clear dishes and tidy
up the main room. Our current house is large by most stan-
dards. In addition to the central living space, we have two other
rooms in the back of the house. The one on the right belongs
to my parents. My brothers and I sleep in the one on the left,
although Zeen and Hamin snore so loudly that I have taken
to sleeping on a pile of blankets in front of the fireplace in the
main room. I smile. Going to Tosu City for The Testing means
I might sleep in a bed again.
While we work, Mom chatters about what I should take
with me and how I should behave while in the city. More than
once she stops what she is doing and tears up at the idea of me
being the first of her children to leave home. My father says
nothing during these moments, although I can tell he wants to.
When all the dishes have been washed and stored away, my
father says, “Why don’t we take a walk?” When my mother
opens her mouth to protest, he says, “I know Cia needs to
pack, but before the boys get back and things get crazy, I’d like
to spend a bit of quiet time with my little girl.”
My mom sniffles and my heart squeezes as I head into the
darkening night with my father.
My father takes my hand, and together we stroll around the
house to the back gardens. A hazy moon and stars are starting
to shine above us. They say at one time the sky was clear and on
a cloudless night the stars looked like diamonds. Perhaps that
was true. It’s hard to imagine.
Near the back of the house, Dad hits a switch. First there is
a humming sound, then one by one lights flicker around the

28
backyard, illuminating the beautiful daisies, roses, and vegeta-
ble plants behind our house. While the plants belong to Dad
and my brothers, the lights belong to me. The colony has strict
laws governing electricity usage. Production and storage of
electricity in our area is limited. Most personal dwellings don’t
use electricity at all unless the citizens can create their own. Not
many bother to try since candles and firelight work perfectly
well. A few years ago, I decided to take up the challenge and
talked Dad into letting me experiment with some leftover ir-
rigation tubes, scrap copper plating, and wire. I conned Mom
into giving me some glass jars, a little of our precious salt, and
a bunch of other odds and ends, and got to work. The result is
a network of fifteen lights all powered by the energy my solar
panels harvest during the day. While I could create a much
more sophisticated system now, Dad insists on using this one.
This is the third backyard it has illuminated. For a moment, I
wonder how long it will be before we have to move it again.
Then I realize that I won’t be here to help when the time comes.
Dad leads me over to the oak bench Hamin made Mom for
her birthday and takes a seat. I sit next to him and wait for him
to speak.
Crickets chirp. Wind rustles the tree branches above us.
From somewhere deep in the lengthening shadows come the
faint sounds of wolves and other animals prowling in the night.
After what seems like forever, Dad takes my hand and holds
it tight. When he speaks, I have to lean close to hear him.
“There are things I’ve never told you. I had hoped to never tell
you. Even now I’m not certain I should.”
I sit up straighter. “Is it about The Testing?”

29
 Dad has never talked about his Testing or much about his
days spent at the University no matter how many questions I’ve
asked. For a moment I feel closer to him, knowing we’ll share
this experience. Then the moment is shattered.
“You should never have been chosen.”
The words slap me across the face. I try to pull my hand
free, but my father holds on tight. His eyes are staring into the
darkness, but the expression on his face says he is not seeing
anything. The glint of fear in his expression makes me forget
my hurt. A knot of worry grows in my chest as my father’s eyes
meet mine.
“My parents and I dreamed of me being chosen for The
Testing. Our family was barely surviving. Omaha Colony
was one of the largest colonies in the Commonwealth. There
were too many people. Not enough resources. There was never
enough food for everyone. We all knew someone who had died
from starvation. My parents believed I could help fix that. Re-
store balance to the earth. I wanted them to have the money
the government gives Testing candidate families to compen-
sate them for the loss of the student. And I admit that part
of me believed my parents. I believed I could help. I wanted
to try.”
That the government compensates Testing candidate fami-
lies is news to me. I want to ask if he and Mother will be com-
pensated when I leave, but I withhold my question as Dad
continues talking.
“There were only fourteen colonies then. Seventy-one of
us assembled in the Testing Center. They tell me The Testing
for my class took four weeks. I don’t remember a single day.

30
Sixteen of us were chosen to move on. The head of the Test-
ing committee said Testing memories are wiped clean after the
process is complete to ensure confidentiality.”
“So you can’t tell me what the tests will be like?” Disap-
pointment churns inside me. I had hoped my father’s expe-
rience would help me prepare — give me an edge. No doubt
this was exactly what the Commonwealth government was pre-
venting by removing my father’s memories.
“I remember arriving at the Testing Center. I remember be-
ing assigned a roommate, Geoff Billings. I remember us toast-
ing our bright futures with full glasses of fresh milk and eating
cake. There was lots of food and excitement. We could barely
sleep that first night knowing our dreams could end the next
day if we didn’t perform well on the tests. The next thing I
remember is sitting in a room filled with chairs being told The
Testing was complete. I started attending University classes
three weeks later. Geoff wasn’t there. Neither were the two girls
from my colony who traveled with me.”
Somewhere in the night an owl screeches, but Dad doesn’t
seem to hear it. “The University was challenging. I enjoyed my
classes. I liked knowing I was doing something important. My
parents were able to send word that they were safe and well
and proud. I was happy. I never gave a thought to Geoff or the
other Testing candidates who didn’t pass.”
He closes his eyes and I sit beside him, wondering what it
would feel like to lose the memories of my friends. To only re-
member the day I met Daileen. To not remember the giggles and
the adventures we’ve had. The idea makes me want to cry, and I
lace my fingers through my father’s to make us both feel better.

31
 “I went to Lenox Colony after I graduated. There was a
botanist who was close to a breakthrough, and the Common-
wealth thought my ideas might help. I worked there a year
before I ran into a boy who reminded me of Geoff. That night
I started having dreams. I’d wake up sweating, heart racing,
not knowing why. Not a night would pass uninterrupted.
My work began to suffer, and the government medics gave
me pills to help with sleep. The pills didn’t stop the dreams.
They just made it harder for me to escape them. In the light
of day I began to remember the dreams. Just flashes at first.
Geoff giving me a thumbs-up from across a white room with
black desks. A large red-numbered clock counting down the
time as my fingers manipulated three blue wires. A girl scream-
ing.”
My father lets go of my hand and stands. I feel a flicker of
fear as he runs a hand through his hair and then begins to pace.
“The flashes stopped. In their place was one recurring dream.
Geoff, a girl named Mina, and me walking down a street lined
with burned-out steel buildings. Broken glass covers the street.
We’re looking for water and a place to sleep for the night. The
buildings are so badly damaged that we’re nervous about using
them for shelter, but we might have to because of the preda-
tors we’ve seen at night. Mina is limping. I spot a large branch
and offer to make her a walking stick. While I’m working,
Geoff scouts down the block. Mina tells him not to go too far.
He promises he won’t. A few minutes later he yells he’s found
something. Then the world explodes.”
Dad goes still. My heart pounds loud in my chest. Dad’s
voice has gotten so quiet I have to lean forward to hear him say,

32
“I find Mina first — half buried under a slab of concrete, blood
running down her face.”
Dad swallows hard. His breathing is rough. His hands
clench and unclench at his sides. I can tell he wants to stop
talking. I want him to stop. This feels too real. I can see the
blood. I can feel my father’s fear.
“I find one of Geoff’s boots ten feet away from Mina’s body.
It takes me a minute to realize his foot is still in the boot and I
start to scream. That’s where the dream ends.”
For a moment the night goes silent. No more sound of owls.
No bugs flutter. Just the image of a boy not much older than
me in pieces on an abandoned street. A boy who went to be
tested . . .
“It was just a dream.” That’s what Dad used to tell me when
I had nightmares. I always believed it. I want to believe it now.
“Maybe.” My father raises his eyes. The haunted despair in
their depths makes me catch my breath. “For years I told myself
it was just a dream. I consoled myself with the knowledge that I
didn’t have a single waking memory of a girl named Mina. We
made breakthroughs in our experiments. New plants I helped
create began to thrive. I never told a soul about the dreams.
Then the Commonwealth assigned me to work in Five Lakes.
God, I was angry. Being assigned to Five Lakes was like an
insult. Only a handful of University graduates were stationed
here. I didn’t even have my own house when I first arrived. I
had to sleep in Flint Carro’s living room.”
This part of the story is familiar. Normally, he tells it with
a smile. Becoming friends with the colony’s doctor. Being
dragged into the tailor’s shop by Flint. Seeing my mother sit-

33
ting at a loom, weaving. Falling in love with her grace and
kindness.
But that isn’t the story this time. And my father isn’t smil-
ing.
“Flint’s house is small. There was no hiding the nightmares.
Flint waited a week before he asked about them. I tried to
brush him off. That’s when he told me about his own dreams.
Not as scary. But disturbing. Faces of people he didn’t remem-
ber. Waiting for friends to return from an exam, but they never
come. Over the next year, Flint and I talked to the other Uni-
versity graduates. There were seven of us then. We had to be
careful because every Commonwealth employee is in contact
with the officials in Tosu City. We didn’t want to jeopardize
our jobs. I’m certain four of the others never lost a night’s
sleep, but one, the head of the school, had a haunted look that
I understood. She denied she had nightmares, but she must
have.”
“You can’t know that.” I stand up and cross my arms over my
chest, waiting for him to agree with me. I need him to agree.
His eyes meet mine. “No, but not a single student who
graduated from Five Lakes was chosen for The Testing while
she was in charge of the school. I don’t believe it was a coinci-
dence. Do you?”
A shiver snakes up my spine. I don’t know what to believe.
To believe my father’s dreams are something more than dreams
is unthinkable. Tomorrow I leave for Tosu City. At the end of
the week I will begin my Testing. To refuse is treason and all
that implies. I want to scream and shout, but all I can do is
stand there and shiver.

34
 My father puts his arm around me and leads me back to the
bench. I lean my head on his shoulder like I used to do when I
was small. For a moment, I feel safe, but it doesn’t last.
“Flint says whatever process they used to wipe our memo-
ries could have caused the dreams. Our brains might be creat-
ing false memories to replace the ones that were taken.”
“But you don’t believe that.”
He shakes his head. “I was grateful when your brothers
graduated and no one from Tosu City came to take them to be
tested. Yesterday, I upset your brother by not publicly giving
him the credit due to him because the magistrate received word
a Tosu official was on his way. I didn’t want anyone questioning
whether students should have been chosen before and whether
past graduates should be reevaluated.”
He pulls me tight against him and rests his chin on top of
my head. A tear falls on my cheek, but it isn’t mine. My father,
who has always been so strong and smart and sure, is crying.
“So now what?” I squirm out of his arms and jump to my
feet, angry. Angry that never once in all of our walks or con-
versations did he tell me these things. Never once when I was
studying late into the night so I would do well on a test did he
tell me what the consequences might be. “I leave in the morn-
ing. Why tell me this now? What good does it do?”
My father doesn’t raise his voice to meet mine. “Maybe
none. Maybe Flint is right and our dreams are just hallucina-
tions. But if there’s a chance they aren’t, it is better you know.
Better that you go to Tosu City prepared to question every-
thing you see and everyone you meet. That might be the differ-
ence between success or failure.” He crosses to me and puts his

35
hands on my shoulders. I start to pull away, but then I notice
the light reflecting off the tears pooling in his eyes. The fight
goes out of me.
“Does Mom know?” I think she must, but at this point I’m
not sure of anything.
“Your mother knows about the memory wipe and that I
have nightmares, but not what they contain.”
I roll the words over in my head, testing them for the truth.
“So, is that why Mom didn’t want me to be chosen?”
My father lays a hand on my face and rubs his thumb against
my cheek. “Cia, I haven’t seen my parents since the day I left to
be tested. To have a child chosen is an honor, but it also means
loss. Your mother didn’t want to lose you.”

I don’t know how long we sit in silence. Long enough to hear

my brothers’ voices announcing their return and my mother’s
shouts chastising them for sneaking sweets. It all sounds so
normal.
When my face is dry of tears, my father takes my hand and
walks me back inside. We don’t mention Dad’s dreams or my
new fears as Hamin teases the twins about my friends flirting
with them. Mom puts out a platter of small cakes and sweet-
ened mint tea as the boys pull out a deck of cards so we can all
play one last game as a family. Even as I enjoy the laughter and
warmth around the table, it feels incomplete without Zeen,
who has yet to return. More than once I find myself watching
the front door. I love all my brothers, but Zeen’s the one I go
to when I have a problem I need to talk about. Zeen is always
patient and insightful. He asks questions, and without fail I

36
feel better after any discussion. Tonight I have a problem, but
Zeen isn’t here.
When the game is over, my mother gently reminds me of
the hour and of the task still in front of me. Excusing myself, I
take the Commonwealth bag and slip into the bedroom I share
with my brothers.
Knowing I may never see the room again makes me look
at it with fresh eyes. A fire glows in the hearth nestled into the
back wall. A square, worn brown rug sits in the middle of the
room. Two sets of bunk beds are arranged on either side of the
rug. Only mine, the bottom bed closest to the fireplace, has the
sheets tucked in and the quilt smoothed. As soon as the boys
graduated from school, Mom declared them old enough to tidy
up their own beds. And they decided they were old enough not
to care whether they slept in tightly tucked sheets.
We each have a wooden chest for our everyday clothes and
shoes. The special clothes are hung in the large wooden armoire
in the corner. Mother always talks about first impressions. I
gnaw on my bottom lip and weigh the merits of all my clothes.
Feeling confident is always easier when dressed in something
special, but I hear my father’s voice replay in my head. I imag-
ine the abandoned city street he walked in his dream. The two
dresses I own won’t help me there. And even if the dreams
aren’t real, I know in my heart pretty clothes won’t help once
The Testing begins.
Ignoring the special attire, I walk to the wooden chest I’ve
used since I was a little girl. I select two pairs of strong, com-
fortable pants and two sturdy shirts and my most comfortable
boots. They are all hand-me-downs from my brothers. Know-

37
ing I have a piece of them coming with me helps ease the lone-
liness I already feel. I grab sleepwear and undergarments and
carefully stow the selections in my bag. There is still plenty of
room for the two personal items I am allowed to bring with
me.
Sitting on the edge of my bed, I look around the room.
Had my father not shared his dreams, I might have taken my
flute or the silver necklace my mother gave me on my sixteenth
birthday. Instead, I consider what might help me if The Testing
is more than paper and pencil examinations.
After several minutes I slide off the bed and pull a small
pocket hunting knife out of my chest. Each of my brothers has
a similar knife — a gift from Dad. The knife also has a screw-
driver and a few other gadgets attached. That’s one. Now for
number two. There is only one other thing I can think of that
might help, but it doesn’t belong to me. And Zeen isn’t here to
ask permission.
Last year, Dad began letting Zeen experiment at work with
his own projects. Some of those projects take him outside the
colony boundaries. The boundaries were designed not so much
to keep people or animals out, but to remind Five Colony
citizens that the land beyond is potentially unsafe. Poisonous
plants and meat-seeking animals are only part of the danger.
During the last three stages of war, violent earthquakes ripped
the fabric of the land. A lone traveler who falls into one of the
earthquake-made fissures can easily find death waiting at the
bottom from a broken neck, exposure, or hunger. To prevent
the latter two, Dad gave Zeen a small handheld device called
a Transit Communicator sent to him by the Commonwealth

38
government. The device has a compass, a calculator, and a
communication system that allows Zeen to contact a matching
device in Dad’s office if ever there is a problem. I don’t know
how it works, but I’m betting if necessary I can figure it out.
When Zeen isn’t working beyond the border, he keeps the
device on a shelf next to his bed. Sure enough. My heart aches
as my fingers close over the device. I wish Zeen were here to
give me permission — to tell me he forgives me for being cho-
sen when he was not. I want to tell Zeen that our father was
trying to protect him when the announcement about the po-
tato was made yesterday. That it wasn’t motivated by ego, but
by love.
I wrap the Transit Communicator in a pair of socks to keep
it safe and slide it into my bag, hoping Zeen returns in time
for me to tell him I’ve taken a piece of him with me to Tosu
City. Even though I know he will not. Zeen is the smartest of
my brothers, but he is also the most emotional. While Win,
Hart, and Hamin are loving and kind, they possess a carefree
attitude about life that frustrates our mother. Zeen, however, is
fiercely passionate. His temper is quick to flare, but his love is
all encompassing. Which makes the loss of one he loves almost
unbearable. He barely spoke for a month when our grandfather
died.
Sitting on Zeen’s bed, I write a note that will serve as a re-
quest for his device and a reminder of my love. Not the farewell
I hope for, but the only one I am certain I will have.
Now that my selections are made, panic sets in. Tomorrow
I will be walking away from everything I know into something
strange and potentially dangerous. What I want most in the

39
world is to climb into bed and pull the covers over my head.
Instead, I snap the bag shut, sling it onto my shoulder, and
walk back out to my family, hoping to enjoy the last hours I
have left with them.

40
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Want to learn more about The Testing?

Visit the website at www.thetestingtrilogy.com,
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About the author

Joelle Charbonneau began telling stories as an opera singer,

but these days she finds her voice through writing. She lives
near Chicago with her husband and son and, when she isn’t
writing, works as an acting and vocal coach.

www.joellecharbonneau.com.