It was my room. It surprised me, although in retrospect it probably shouldn’t have. Why wouldn’t I go back to my room? I sat down on my bed, overwhelmed. What was going on? Part of me was exhilarated. I had done something different. The other part was hesitant. What was going on? My life had been simple. Wake, eat, learn, sleep, over and over and over. Then She arrived. She wasn’t bad though. At least I had something to do. And there were the colors.
I looked over my room once again. The same furniture, the same dull color. My white world. I had seen colors and I wanted to see them again. The number table was still there. I walked over to examine it once more. A green light highlighted the number one. That probably meant I had completed the test. I traced the next number with my finger. Would number two come tomorrow? I shrugged. Obviously I didn’t know when things would happen. After all, the first test came without warning. I moved back to my bed and lay down. Maybe She would let me see the colors again.
I woke with a start and instinctively looked to the right of my bed. A door was opening. It was in the same spot as last time too. Adrenaline had sufficiently woken me up, but I still flopped awkwardly out of bed. Pinpricks of pain lanced through my left leg. I grimaced. It was asleep. I stood painfully and made my way to the number table. Number two was highlighted in blue. The second test had started. I looked back to the doorway and held back for a moment, waiting for instructions. None came. I moved into the corridor and waited. Just like the first time, the corridor did nothing for a few minutes before collapsing around me. Despite my excitement, I stifled a yawn. I must have been woken up far before my usual time. Unlike the last test room, this chamber contained two objects, a desk and a chair. Both were white. I stared at them, trying to determine their purpose. I guessed I was to sit in the chair and did so. Upon sitting, the desk in front of me became translucent. I saw my legs beneath the table and realized my left leg was no longer asleep. My attention returned to the desk when an automated voice began speaking.
“Your next assignment will be orchestrated to determine the capacity of your cerebrum. We will begin with several logic tests, followed by several circumstantial tests. Your mental ability will be decided by the percentage of correct answers on each exam. Your test starts now.”
A beep sounded and my translucent desk created one math problem. Easy, I thought to myself, I had nothing to do but learn when I was in my room. I looked around for a stylus to write with, but found none. I drummed my fingers on the table, wondering how I was to answer the problem. Then I realized something. The desk was responding to my fingers. I experimented again, this time drawing my finger in a line across the desk. A solid white line traced my finger. I smiled. That’s how I was to write the answer. I forgot my surroundings as I became engrossed in the challenge in front of me. The first problem wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t incredibly hard either. The next one was the same, but the problems soon evolved into more complex equations. The problems ranged from finding placeholders to anything including radicals or geometry or pre-calculus. And word problems. I hate word problems.
I didn’t know how long it took me, but I eventually finished the problems. I pushed my chair back and stood. I didn’t know how long I had sat there, but I felt stiff from inactivity. Wondering what would happen next, I slowly walked around the edge of the room. I had reached fifty walking circuits when a doorway appeared in the wall, facing the table and chair. I didn’t hesitate this time and walked straight into the corridor. A door opened at the opposite end, once more leading to my room. I entered and went over to the number table. The number one was still green, but the number two was still blue. The test was still going on? I shook my head. That couldn’t be. I had just finished the test. Maybe it didn’t immediately turn green, or maybe my answers were still being processed. I shook my head again. That wouldn’t be right. For a place that was so efficient, the possibility of my answers not being processed immediately was highly inefficient. It seemed the test was still going. I sighed. Sitting down on my bed, I looked over the room. Nothing new. Perhaps the next part of the test would come later?
It was hours later but eventually the door opened once more. I shook my head slowly and stood. I hoped this would finish up my test. Despite the fact that this was only my second test, I really didn’t want to miss any. Maybe it was pride, but I don’t know. Wanting to have a good score on these tests wasn’t a bad thing right?
I moved up from the bed and towards the door, checking the number table as I did so. Still blue. I walked through the entrance and waited. And waited. And waited. I looked around the corridor. Nothing was happening. I turned around and looked at the doorway behind me. It was open. I examined the other side of the hallway. The wall panels remained still. I recalled what the automated voice had told me. There were supposed to be two tests. As far as I knew, I had passed the first one. The second one was a circumstantial test. Whatever that meant. Something to do with circumstances obviously. Was this part of the test? Some sort of unusual circumstance that I was supposed to get through or solve? I strode towards the opposite end of the hallway resolutely. No movement other than my own. I pushed against the panels but they refused to budge. If this was the circumstantial test, they would give me some way to solve it, but so far there doesn’t seem to be any. Almost immediately I heard a noise. I whirled around and watched as my entrance closed behind me. I frowned suspiciously. Did I trigger that? I once more examined the wall panels, searching for a way to open them. At the moment I really didn’t have any hope of opening them.
“I have high hopes for this one.”
“The boy’s name is Seven.”
The man waved his hand dismissively. “That’s only the number we assign them.”
“But it’s the only name they respond to.”
The man ignored her and continued. “Perfect scores!”
“The others had perfect scores. He still hasn’t finished-”
The man overrode her. “And the computer even created extra problems because he completed the test in half the time the others did!”
The woman changed her tactic. “What are you planning to do with this one?”
The man focused on her. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” His grin wasn’t comforting.
“Yes, I would.”
“Well, it’s nothing you need to worry your head about.”
Annoyance crept into her voice. “Oh I think this greatly concerns me.”
The man’s attitude soured instantly. He didn’t yell or rage, but his tone contained venomous anger. “Do not threaten me. I could say one word, I could give one command and have you killed, doctor. Never forget I hold your life in my hands.”