“Mine taught me how to distinguish the worthy from the . . .” He looks me up and down. “Not. Have you broken any of the four Commandments, citizen?”
“No. I honor the Initiative.”
“You’re a worthless liar.”
He has no proof. This man does not know me. I should show him what I’m really about. But then I think of Peri’s face. I owe her this, so I say what my father told me to say. “I’m strong. I know how to cook. I practically raised my little sister. I’ll work hard if you allow me to. I’ll take anything you have to offer. My family needs this.”
He sighs and taps his NoteScreen. His face puckers up in disgust. “That’s what they all say, girl.”
When my competition stands, she looks like a soldier, proud and strong, despite the red heels, and the sundress that sways around her hips. The Evaluator questions her, asks about her mother and father, too. But there is no bitterness in his tone. Nothing he says makes her seem unworthy of his time. He seems pleased with all of her answers. They are solid and she does not speak out of line.
I sit still and keep my head high, though my heart is humming in my chest. I know I have already failed. It is impossible for me to win against this girl.
The Evaluator leaves, taking my opponent with him.
A woman comes in, dressed in crisp whites that make her pale skin seem even paler. She says nothing, just pokes a needle into my arm and takes my blood. She checks my vision, and even though I already know I am not colorblind, like Koi, I feel my body relax when she says my eyes are fine. She tests my hearing, my reaction times. She makes me walk in a straight line, stand on one foot, and then the other. I watch her face the whole time, trying to see if I have failed this as well, but she gives nothing away, only scribbles her notes onto a handheld screen, lips pursed. She is a wall as thick as the Perimeter.
I do not feel human. I feel like a rat trapped inside a maze.
Next is the paper exam. I answer questions about my skills, like fishing, and sewing, and how best to clean an infected wound. There is a list of jobs that I might receive, if I pass: hauling trash to the Graveyard, hospital duty, working in the Rations Hall, fishing, like my father. The worst job is assisting an Initiative member. I answer as best I can, and thank my mother for teaching me how to read and write. When I reach a question that asks me what my biggest weakness is, I leave the spot blank.
A man comes in and sits in front of me. He has blue eyes that should remind me of the sea, but he looks ill, and it makes my stomach feel all wrong. “Do you understand why you are here today?” He asks.
I clear my throat. “For an opportunity,” I say, “to provide for my family.”
“You have a father. A fisherman. You have a brother who is twenty-one, and a sister who is seven. Your mother is dead.”
“Yes,” I say. “Sir.”
“Why do you think you deserve to have a job? You already have someone to provide for your family. Your father gets a bag of rations per week, just like the other families. If he works hard enough, and earns enough Creds, we gift him the opportunity to purchase other, less necessary items, to keep you comfortable. Are you greedy?”
I look down at my feet. “Because it is not enough,” I say. I want to say more. I want to scream at him, to make him understand how horrible it is to see the way Peri’s clothes swallow her thin frame, and the way Koi’s face falls whenever he looks at her.
He leans back in his chair and laughs, a short bark like a dog. “The Initiative provides you with plenty.”
“There are four of us, sir,” I say. “We live on rations that provide for two. We have a child. She’s growing fast, every day. She needs more.”
“Then you should learn to ration better,” he says. “Your father should work harder and earn more.” He leans back, puts his hand to his temple. “Would you ever steal from the Initiative, Miss Woodson?”
The question takes me off guard. I feel my heart start to beat faster, harder. “I’m not stupid enough to try,” I say, but the real truth is that yes, I would steal, if I had to. To keep Peri alive, I would even kill this man right now with my bare hands if I had to.
“Fair enough,” he shrugs. “A final question.” He leans forward. “Are you willing to fight for what you want?”
I look down at my hands. There is still blood under my fingernails from last night’s fight with Koi. “Yes,” I say. “I will always fight for what I want.”
The man smiles for the first time. “Good,” he says. He scribbles a note onto his pad. “Very good.”
He stands up and heads for the door, and I am alone. There is a clock on the wall, an old-fashioned kind, that tick-tick-ticks at a constant rhythm, and after a while, it feels like my heart is beating in time with it. I am covered in sweat.
Finally, the door opens, and my opponent walks in. She has a smug look on her face, like she has already won.
My heart sinks. “Congratulations,” I say to her, but she shakes her head.
“I thought you got it,” she says. Her mouth hangs half-open. I see she is missing one of her teeth.
The door swings open again. We both whirl around. The Evaluator walks into the room. He has a silver work badge in his hand and a sickening smile on his face. “The test was inconclusive. You are both fine candidates.”
“So what the hell does that mean?” the girl asks him. Her pleasant charade is up. “We both get a job?”