I think I’m starting to figure it out. What is it Mr. Benedict sent us here to get?”
“Information,” Sticky said. “You think that’s what he meant by ‘what can be got’? Just information?”
“
Constance rolled her eyes. “But that’s obvious! We already know that.”
“You’re right,” Reynie admitted. “That’s why I said I’m
“We’re going as fast as we can, though,” Kate said. “You boys are making perfect scores on the quizzes, and Constance and I — well, we’re doing our best, aren’t we?” She glanced doubtfully at Constance. “At least I know I am.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Constance said, frowning.
“I just don’t want to speak for you,” said Kate evasively.
“My point,” Reynie interjected, “was that we have to find a way for you and Constance to do better on the quizzes.”
“Ugh,” Kate said, heaving a dramatic sigh. She collapsed onto the floor, throwing out her arms as if she’d been knocked flat. “To tell the truth, I think I’m beyond help. My brain simply won’t absorb that nonsense, no matter how hard I try.”
“Same here,” said Constance. “No way can I improve on those quizzes. I’m too tired to study any more than I already do.”
“Which is hardly any,” Kate muttered.
Constance flared. “Let’s see
“At least I’ve been trying!”
“Hold on, hold on,” Reynie said. “Let’s go back to Mr. Benedict’s message. What can we think of that we all are not?”
“Grown-ups?” Sticky suggested.
“True,” Reynie said gently. “But I don’t think we can hurry up and get
Constance pointed out that none of them were antelopes eating canteloupes, or textbooks with hexed looks, or cattle from Seattle.
“You’re just trying to annoy us, aren’t you?” Kate said.
Constance grinned.
“The fact is,” Sticky said in a defeated tone, “there are an infinite number of things that we aren’t.”
“Yes, but Mr. Benedict expects us to figure this out,” said Reynie, “so we should be able to narrow it down. Let’s consider what he knows about us — something we all have in common, something that could be changed.”
“He only just met us,” Kate pointed out. “He can’t know that much about us, can he?”
“Well, he knows we’re orphans and runaways,” Sticky offered, then quickly added, “I know, I know. We can’t all suddenly have families. So what else?”
“We’re all gifted,” said Constance. “We all passed his silly tests.”
“And none of us watches television or listens to the radio,” said Kate, “because of our minds’ unusually powerful love of truth, right?”
Sticky scratched his head. “I don’t see how watching television is going to make us Messengers any faster.”
“Wait a minute!” Reynie said, leaping to his feet. “Our love of truth!”
The others fell silent and looked at him. Reynie had begun to pace and whisper to himself. “Become what we’re not . . . to become Messengers faster . . . and Mr. Benedict
Kate shone her flashlight at Reynie, who stopped in his tracks. His exultant expression shifted into one of doubt, and he squinted uncomfortably in the flashlight beam. He cleared his throat, hesitated, and cleared his throat again.
“Well?” Constance demanded. “What’s the big idea?”
At last Reynie managed to come out with it. And it was no wonder the others hadn’t thought of it themselves, for what Reynie suggested was something that would never have occurred to them, something quite foreign to their natures, something none of them had ever attempted.
They must learn how to cheat.
“It only makes sense,” Reynie quickly explained, when he saw his friends’ horrified expressions. “None of us accepted Rhonda’s offer to cheat, remember? That was part of the test. Mr. Benedict is saying we must become what we are not —
“You’ve got to be kidding!” Kate cried. “That can’t be what Mr. Benedict means!”
Sticky was shaking his head. “Didn’t he choose us because we
“Well, I’m all for it,” Constance said with a snort. “Let’s cheat like the wind!”
