moving with very little predictability. Somehow he knew that if he had moved slowly from shadow to shadow he would’ve been seen. This was a lesson he would not forget. Time passed and, without thinking, Tag moved back and forth behind the shrubs whenever the psychic shadows moved. He thought about Leila and her problems at home and was thankful that his parents loved each other so much. He knew he would be devastated if his parents divorced. He sat down and watched the psychic shadows go from moving quickly, then slowing down, and finally stopping and covering all the ground around the school as the day ended and it began to get dark. By now most of the people had left. “My shoulders hurt. This wall needs more soft spots,” he thought, and then he stood up and peered through the shrubbery. He could see the walkway as it wound from the door to the street. So far, there was no sign of Mr. Graham, the test administrator. He looked down and saw the gravel in the flower bed at his feet. He bent down and picked up several of the larger stones and put them in his pocket. He watched the door and thought about how he could possibly get Leila’s test. He felt certain the test administrator would come this evening to process the tests and scan them into the computer.
“You would think,” Tag thought as he sat back down and leaned against the hard wall, “that they would just give the test in the computer instead of using old-fashioned paper and pencil.” But it had been decided centuries ago that if something happened to the human race, the survivors would need to know how to read and write without the use of a computer. In light of humankind’s recent skirmishes with the Cainth, and the real possibility of an attack on Earth, this decision made more sense now than ever. All students also had to learn Alliance as a second language. All races used standard Alliance to communicate, and the tests were actually written in the official Alliance language. English measurements such as a second corresponded to a sem in Alliance; a minute was a dreg; an hour was a drag; a day was a rotation; and a year was a cycle. A distance such as a foot was a deg; a mile was a seg; and so on, until sometimes the languages were used interchangeably. However, the scoring was done by computer. Tag knew that he had to get the test before Mr. Graham started inputting them. “It’s getting dark,” he thought. “It’s time for you to show up, Mr. Graham.”
Time seemed to drag, and Tag began to worry that the tests wouldn’t be graded tonight. “Finally,” Tag thought as he saw Mr. Graham getting out of his floater. He was walking slowly from the street to the faculty entrance and fortunately the entire area was covered in psychic shadows, so Tag knew no one was watching. The only place there were no shadows was directly in front of Mr. Graham. Tag waited until Mr. Graham was even with him and slipped out of the shrubbery and, just like in his first game of hide-and-seek, moved behind Mr. Graham. He knew he would have to stay low because the entry camera would flash as soon as Mr. Graham entered the door.
Bert Graham had been a test administrator for thirty-two years and, quite frankly, found no enjoyment in his work. “I guess that’s why they call it work,” he thought. He took out his keys and unlocked the faculty door; he entered and looked up at the camera as it flashed, and then he locked the door behind him. Tag stayed concealed behind him in the psychic shadow, which told him the camera had not seen him.
Bert started walking down the hall to his office and looked at the pictures hanging on the school wall. He always smiled as he passed the picture of William Clinton. The guy just had funny looking hair. As he opened his office he thought about the work he had to do. The process was simple. He would take each student’s test booklet and scan the code from the top left corner into the computer; then he would feed the student’s answer sheets into the receiving slot. The reason for the test booklet being scanned was that every student had a different test. Copying someone else’s paper would never help because no two students had the same questions on the same page. Subsequently, the answer sheets only made sense when matched to the appropriate test booklet. He sat down in his chair, opened the safe, and took out the tests. “Might as well begin,” Mr. Graham thought and began processing the tests.
Standing quietly behind Mr. Graham, Tag looked at the stack of papers on the desk. He knew that he had to make his move when Leila’s test was on top of the stack. He took one of the pebbles out of his pocket and stood behind Mr. Graham. He waited patiently as the stack grew smaller. Finally, there it was: Leila Barber. Her folder was the next one to be processed. He had decided that the safest thing to do would be to take the test booklet and leave the answer sheets. He figured that if he took the answer sheets they could accuse her of not taking the test. This way, without the test booklet, her answer sheets would make no sense, especially since more than half of the test involved marking A, B, C, or D as the answer to a question. He threw the smallest pebble at the glass on the classroom door. He closely watched the papers to see if a psychic shadow would cover them and he could take Leila’s booklet without being seen. Suddenly there it was. A psychic shadow covered the desk and he reached around and grabbed the folder, took the test booklet out, and put the folder back down before the shadow disappeared.
“What’s that noise?” Mr. Graham thought. He looked over at the door and saw nothing out of the ordinary, but he distinctly heard a small ping. He turned his chair toward the door and started to get up but decided it was nothing and turned back to continue his work. He picked up the next folder, and then heard a louder ping at the door. “Now that’s odd,” he thought. He got up and walked to the door, opened it, stepped into the hall, and looked around. To the left, the hallway was empty, with all the classroom doors closed; the hallway was also empty to the right. He listened intently for a few moments and then thought, “Nothing.” He scratched his head and went back inside to finish his work.
Tag had thrown another pebble at the door as soon as he had the test booklet. As he had hoped, Mr. Graham went to the door and opened it, with Tag following along behind him. When Mr. Graham stepped back into the room, Tag remained in the hall. He spent the next thirty minutes working his way back to the faculty entrance, avoiding all the moving cameras in the hall. He waited in a shadow beside the door, hoping that it wouldn’t be long before someone showed up. He was pretty certain that someone was coming and that the groad was about to hit the reactor. He sat and passed time by looking at the pictures on the wall and wondered just who this Bill Clinton was that his school was named for. He looked at the pictures of the school namesake and thought, “He sure had funny looking hair. He also didn’t look good in the prisoner of war uniform the Chinese made him wear after the third world war. He must have escaped and become famous or something to have this school named after him.” Then he thought that it sure was quiet in there at night. Even the climate system could be heard going on and off. You couldn’t hear it during the day. “Come on, Mr. Graham. Call somebody; I’ve got to get out of here,” he silently plead.
Mr. Graham was looking at Leila Barber’s test folder. All the answer sheets were there but the test booklet was missing. He checked the log of the two assistant administrators who had collected the test materials and saw Leila’s thumbprint inside the booklet and answer sheet boxes, showing that she had turned both in. This was highly irregular and he could not think of any way that the test booklet could be missing. When the test ended, two administrators were present to verify that all materials were collected properly. The materials were then placed in a security lockbox, brought to his office, and dropped through the top into his safe. There was a one-way force field on his safe where things could go in but nothing could be taken out. He turned on his communicator and called the two assistant administrators that had handled the test materials. They insisted that all the materials were collected properly. He requested that they come to his office immediately. From Mr. Graham’s voice they knew something was wrong, and they immediately left for the school. Mr. Graham also called Edward Garcia, who was his contact at the Education Security Division. After explaining what he found, Sergeant Garcia said he would be right over. “Something’s wrong,” Sergeant Garcia thought. “This sort of thing just doesn’t happen.”
Tag waited at the door for the people that he knew Mr. Graham would call. “Shoot, they call people in if students have an argument,” he realized. He was pretty certain this would qualify as much more than an argument. So he waited patiently, watching Bill Clinton’s picture watch him. “Maybe his hair wasn’t so stupid looking. It could grow on you,” he thought. He chuckled at that. “Grow on you,” he snickered.
He didn’t have long to wait. All at once he noticed that all the psychic shadows around the door had disappeared. There were three people at the door and someone was unlocking it, and he knew he would be seen if he didn’t move. He decided to take a chance. He took a large pebble out of his pocket and watched the people as the door was unlocked and they all entered. The door opened inward and Tag crouched behind it. The first two men almost ran straight through without looking to either side, so he knew that it was the third man who would be looking around. Just as Sergeant Garcia entered the door, Tag threw his pebble at a set of lockers on the other side of the hallway. Two things happened at once: Sergeant Garcia heard the noise and looked down the hall at the lockers, and Tag was immediately surrounded by a psychic shadow. He used that moment to slip out the door before Sergeant Garcia looked around.
“Now that’s strange,” Sergeant Garcia thought. He looked around and then moved down towards the lockers.
