With a tortured gasp, she snapped back to reality. Ari swiped away at the river of tears on her face. Intentionally or not, she’d done what she always did. She’d fled.
7 minutes 42 seconds. Yes, a measly 7 minutes and freaking 42 seconds.
That was how long she’d lasted in the VR final, instead of the normal hour or two. Back in the examiner’s office, Ari tried to explain to the woman that she knew the information, that she’d studied the text just not in the VR. Her perfect grades must count for something.
Instead the stern examiner just stared at Ari like she was a freak, and then, after checking the computer, the woman offered to allow her to try the VR again. A second chance, something Ari had never heard of before. She declined. Her hands shook just thinking about it.
By the time lunch was over, the results were in, and the students lined up in the cafeteria-turned-auditorium, awaiting their assignments. The principal stood at the front, along with two testing authorities from the education department. The lone school security guard stood beside them with the usual tired expression on his face. Backed up against the wall, metal chairs were lined up for family members and friends.
Ari’s mother slipped in late through the side door to join the other families. Her hair wrapped up in a bun, she donned the familiar factory uniform. With two jobs, she had to work through the three-day weekend.
Clamping down on her emotions, Ari stared at the worn brick wall at the back of the room. The cafeteria had once been a factory, remodeled years ago as a school. They threw white paint on the old brick walls, but the smell of oil and metal still lingered. Ari tried to maintain her composure, not wanting others to see the fragile hold on her control. How could she be the only one troubled with all of this? Their future decided by a machine, controlled by people they didn’t even know.
The computer announced the first assignment: mechanics. A collective sigh spread through the audience, followed by enthusiastic clapping. Everyone took it as a good sign when the first announcement was non-military. The Never-Ending War took more than its share of young men.
The assignments continued: health, food management, and avionics, always followed by applause. Someone was assigned to a technical school, and they clapped. Many to military. They still clapped. The announcement could be for obituary sciences, and they would clap. Frustration and anxiety boiled inside of Ari. She wanted to scream at these clapping mindless drones. This was a sentence not a future.
The principal, old and stoic, made fleeting remarks between assignments, giving congratulations or nods of agreement. Yet, what never came out of his mouth was the truth. He never said, “I’m sorry you guys are all too poor to choose your own assignment.” Instead, he regurgitated the blessings they received from the government: education, the lack of unemployment, and the gift of technology to enhance society.
Ari’s friend, Taidem, stepped up to receive her assignment, her blonde hair pinned up to perfection. How could Ari be so close to the front already?
“Education,” the machine announced.
The crowd applauded, including Ari. Education usually involved plugging kids in or tending the young ones. It was a steady job with decent pay, but not Ari’s first choice. She wanted to go into electro-engineering, a job where she could create and build something worthwhile, something more than the old gears and bots around her house.
As Ari moved up another space, she tensed and tried to prepare herself for anything, for everything. A life headed towards what the government deemed she was talented for.
Four more people until her turn.
She twisted the HUB on her wrist, or as she called it, her electronic brain. It held all her contacts, ID, books ... her life. Too bad it didn’t have the answer for what came next.
Three students left.
A gnawing sense of fear climbed up her throat. In the distance stood Marco and his best friend, Reed. Great, more people to witness her humiliation. As much as she loved having her brother around, she wished he didn’t have off school right now.
Two students left.
What did it matter anymore? She’d failed her test and would receive a life of janitorial duty either way. Before the rising panic inside of her exploded into something unimaginable, she took off.
Tears blurred her vision as she shoved through the door of the cafeteria. Shouts rang out behind her, but she couldn’t stop. The hot summer wind warmed her but didn’t relieve the pressure in her chest. She kept running down the corridors, past the concrete sidewalks.
Finally reaching a group of trees, she stopped. With one hand on a tree, she sucked in mouthfuls of air and tried to calm down. She sank onto the ground, leaning against the trunk. A wave of self-loathing disappointment settled uncomfortably in her stomach.
The sun beat down on her and warmed her bone-deep chill. She tried her hardest not to think of what she’d just done. The tremors in her hands slowly stopped, and she wiped away the last of her tears. She turned on an audiobook loaded on her HUB, hoping to lose herself in the drama of another life for a few minutes.
Her solitude didn’t last long. Marco slumped down next to her and clicked off her book. “Thought I’d find you out here.”
She stared out at the track field, not wanting to talk.
“I have your assignment.”
Ari pulled back to look at him. “What? How did you do that?”
Marco gave one of his winning smiles, the kind that had wooed more than enough girls and now apparently even the principal. “Mom and I talked to the authorities. They let her receive the assignment, but you’ll have to talk to the principal later about accepting it.”
“Who says that I will?”
Marco raised an eyebrow. “You really want to stay here, work in the factory,
