The Institution: A Young Adult Dystopian Series (Sacrisvita Book 1) Page 6
Sage watched his shadow move across the stage and enter the wings. The curtains rolled aside, revealing under bright lights that the once-empty room was now filled with thousands of eyes, all staring right at them.
Pippa’s face went white as soon as she saw the audience, and she mumbled her line. Sage was standing a few feet away and knew the script from all their rehearsals, but even she couldn’t make out what was said.
“Project!” Ms. Pembergast hissed from offstage. A chuckle spread throughout the crowd.
“Hey, Aura, isn’t this a fun excursion that Headmaster Alexander let us go on?” she said more loudly this time, looking queasy.
“Sure is, Pippa! I love seeing all the different places in town that we might work at someday!” Aura was practically yelling in her enthusiasm.
“Me too!” Finkel said at his normal volume, nearly causing Sage to wince. He paused and looked over on the other side of the stage where Carnabel was tiptoeing dramatically. “Wait, what is she doing?” he asked.
The group turned to look at Carnabel. Nic and Marnie stood near her pretending to be talking to each other and not notice anything amiss.
“I think she stole that loaf of bread she’s carrying!” Sage exclaimed.
“Oh, no, what should we do?” cried Everett.
“We can tell an adult,” Aura said, and they ran over to Nic and Marnie and gestured wildly at Carnabel.
“She’s stealing bread!” Finkel bellowed.
“Strip a Chance!” Pippa shouted.
“Kill the Lawless!” Sage cried.
Carnabel pretended to run away. Nic swept his arms back dramatically, pushing the students behind him. He stared hard at Carnabel, swung his arm wildly over his head, and quite obviously squeezed the bracelet on his wrist.
Carnabel paused for a moment to shudder with great theatrics and look back at Nic, but she immediately spun back around and continued running away.
Nic’s jaw dropped. He swung his arm overhead again, slammed his hand down on his bracelet, and gave it another obvious squeeze.
This time, Carnabel dropped the bread and fell to the floor, unmoving.
“Guess that was her last Chance,” Nic said smugly. He turned to the rest of the group. “Don’t worry, kids, the System of Worth is here to keep you safe,” he said reassuringly.
They all froze in place, and the curtain swept back in front of them.
The crowd erupted in applause.
Carnabel hopped up and scrambled offstage with the rest of the group as the next class ran out to take their places behind the curtain.
Ms. Pembergast beamed at them. “Oh, class, I’m so proud of you. That was wonderful. Simply wonderful! Why, I couldn’t have asked for that to have turned out any better.”
She scooted them farther offstage and gathered them into a corner so that they could watch the other students’ performances.
Level Seven was up next. The students formed four long lines across the stage. Each student stepped forward as they quoted small sections of the Proclamation of Worth.
Sage watched as Penelope stepped forward and said her line.
“In order to preserve the peace which was so hard-fought, and in an effort to minimize the added strain on the government’s—and therefore, the people’s—resources, we do hereby entrust all of the citizens of Eprah with the noble responsibilities of judge and jury to honor and uphold the laws of this great civilization.”
Penelope stepped back, looking relieved that she had managed to say her line without butchering it. The next boy in line stepped forward and continued with the next line of the Proclamation.
Ms. Pembergast closed her eyes and clasped her hands together, silently moving her lips in sync with each student as they moved down the row. Clearly, she had heard this speech before.
Sage shifted her weight uncomfortably. The speech was dragging on. It used flowery language and seemed to repeat itself a lot, and the students in the second row were just finishing their lines.
“Hey, how many Chances will we get?” she whispered to Aura.
“Depends,” Aura whispered back. “If you get a good assignment, like in the government or something, you get a lot. Like, hundreds, I think.”
“What if you don’t get a good assignment?” Sage tried to hide her concern.
“What, you mean like a factory worker? I think they start around twenty,” she said.
Sage’s eyes widened.
“Aw, don’t worry, Sage,” Aura reassured her. “No one’s going to take away your Chances unless you do something dumb anyways. Just follow the rules, and you’ll be fine.”
She nodded. Just follow the rules. Somehow, she had a hard time believing her parents died for stealing a loaf of bread.
“Shh, shh, girls!” Ms. Pembergast hushed them. “Pay attention to your fellow students! They are sharing valuable history with us right now, and if you don’t want to listen to them, you don’t have to take part in the feast later at school.”
“Sorry.” Sage snapped her mouth closed, her mind spinning from what she had learned so far that morning.
Chances were determined by job assignment. And job assignments were determined by class scores at the Institution. Now she understood. The final exam mattered more than ever.
8. BOKJA
Sage had actually enjoyed Founders’ Day for the most part. Ms. Pembergast’s mood was better than she’d ever seen, they had gotten to eat a meal with fresh vegetables instead of rehydrated fruit pellets, and she had, if only for a brief time, ventured beyond the grounds of the Institution. She’d even enjoyed being on stage—even if she would have secretly wished to play a different part.
The weeks following their field trip had been largely the same studious routine—daily classes and final test prep in the evenings—with a few notable exceptions.
Morning and afternoon classes with Ms. Pembergast were punctuated by meals now shared with the other students in the main dining hall, and they were permitted to participate in free play in the yard after lunch with the rest of the younger levels.
In the evenings, they were allowed to spend a couple hours socializing in the Common Lounge with their future classmates, provided they arrived back in their bedrooms by curfew. The Common Lounge was much more inviting than their bedrooms—it held couches, tables, toys, and games, and it was filled with a pleasant sort of noisy rumble.
Once, Finkel had gotten distracted throwing paper airplanes at the girls and gotten back to his room eight minutes late. He not only lost his extra socialization privileges for two weeks, but he’d even had to spend three days alone in a Cleansing room. The whole class was sufficiently early for curfew after that.
Sage spent less time in the Common Lounge than her classmates. She usually spent just enough time there to appease Ms. Pembergast. For some reason, she seemed especially interested in how they were all getting along with the rest of the student body. She sounded genuinely concerned that they were making friends outside of their small class and often questioned them about how so-and-so was doing lately. Sage found it unsettling how she always seemed to know who they spent their time with.
Ms. Pembergast also had peculiar timing in her speeches on proper citizen behavior, as if she knew what they talked about even though she wasn’t ever in the Common Lounge. Last week, Carnabel had been teasing Everett about coming from Lawless parents—every few weeks, she decided that a different classmate had been saved from the savagery of the world beyond Eprah—and curiously, she tripped over his shoe on the way back to the dormitories that night.
The next day in class, Ms. Pembergast lectured the students on kind speech and actions, specifying both emotional and physical bullying and how it could lead to severe problems once they were all out in the grand System of Worth.
As for tonight, Sage had planned to leave the Common Lounge early again to work on memorizing exceptions to the System of Worth when Penelope motioned her over.
“I was just about to go study,” Sag
e looked towards the door.
“You can study later,” Penelope waved her hand. “Besides, you study more than anyone I know. I’m sure you’ll do fine on your exam. And it’s not for a couple more months.”
“But—”
“Stop worrying!” Penelope grabbed her hand. “You have got to see this. I overheard some of the older kids talking about it at dinner.”
“Talking about what?” Sage asked as Penelope pulled her into the hallway, heading the opposite direction from their bedrooms. “I’m not sure if it’s ok if I’m out here…”
“Seriously, you worry way too much. It’s not like anyone’s watching us anyways,” she said flippantly.
Sage bit her lip. Maybe Ms. Pembergast would just be happy she was spending more time with other students.
“Ok, so you know the Bokja Tournament every winter?” Penelope asked.
Sage looked at her blankly. “The what?”
Penelope stopped. “You’re kidding, right?”
Sage shrugged. “I was in a Cleansing.”
“Oh.” Penelope’s eyes widened. “So you missed it?”
“I guess,” Sage said. “I still don’t know what it is.”
“Oh! Sorry,” she said. “Well, the winners from that are challenging each other tonight. You’ll just have to see it.”
They reached a door at the end of the hallway. Penelope pushed it open, and they slipped into a large room. It was the Common Lounge for the Level Fifteen students. Although it was similar in many ways—though the decorations seemed a bit more mature and less prismatic—the most obvious difference was the circle of students that had packed into the middle of the room.
Penelope put a finger to her lips and pointed excitedly to a table near the edge of the swarm. Sage thought it was overkill to try to be quiet. No one had noticed the two girls enter the room because they were consumed with hollering and whistling and watching whatever was happening in the center of the circle.
They scrambled on top of the table and could just barely see what was so engrossing. A boy and a girl, who both looked to be about fifteen or sixteen, were in the center of the throng, pacing back and forth with their fists near their heads. Sage recognized the boy as the one who had teased her about running away her first day in the cafeteria.
The girl struck first, launching her right fist at his temple and immediately following up with a lower blow from her left fist aimed at his stomach. He ducked the first punch, but the second bent him in half and pushed him backwards. In one swift move, he dropped to the floor, hooked her leg with his, and pulled her off balance.
As she stumbled forward, he jumped up and grabbed her arm, pulling it into an unnatural angle behind her back. She reached across with her free hand and yanked hard on his shoulder, throwing her legs up over her head in a side-winding flip. She landed beside him and kicked out the back of both his knees. As they buckled, she threw her elbow around his neck and let out a short, deep cry of victory as he tapped her arm twice.
The students erupted. Penelope let out a squeal of excitement and then clasped her hands over her mouth. Sage was no longer worried that they would be noticed, but she shot a warning look at Penelope anyway.
“Rosalind is the winner this round!” One of the boys in the crowd had taken on the role of announcer.
The two teens stepped apart and faced each other again. They each gave a slight nod and then began pacing the circle.
“Round two,” Penelope whispered.
Sage waved her off, not wanting to miss anything.
This time, the boy made the first move. He faked a stomach blow and then dropped to the ground, sweeping his leg behind both of hers. She was already off-balance from leaping backwards in anticipation of the first blow, so she fell quickly. He grabbed her wrist, crossed both legs around her arm, and jerked backward. She quickly smacked the floor twice, and he let out the victory cry.
“Round two goes to Kai!” the announcer bellowed.
The fighters sprang to their feet, sizing each other up and circling one another.
“Alright, last round to determine tonight’s winner!” the announcer continued.
The proclamation snapped an engrossed Sage out of the moment. She scanned the room and then poked Penelope’s arm. She nodded her head at the clock and climbed down from the table, Penelope immediately following. They had just reached the door when they heard the announcer bellowing again.
“And that round was lightning fast also! This evening’s Bokja winner is Rosalind Tarn! What an upset as she beats out Kai Abeldra, this year’s reigning champion!”
As the girls ran out the door, the students’ cheering carried into the hallway. They could hear Rosalind’s name being shouted over and over.
“That was awesome!” Sage said.
“I know! Aren’t you glad you came?”
Sage smiled as they sprinted down the hallway. “Ok, yeah, but we’re lucky we didn’t get caught.”
Penelope grinned mischievously.
They arrived at their Common Lounge doorway. Penelope’s class was allowed to stay out a bit later, so she slipped back inside as Sage ran past.
“See you tomorrow,” Sage called over her shoulder. Penelope waved.
She flew in the dorm door moments before curfew. The door swung closed on its own, securing them inside for the evening.
“Where were you?” Aura asked.
“Oh, nowhere,” Sage grinned. “Just in the Common Lounge.”
“That’s funny, I didn’t see you there,” Marnie piped in.
“Weird,” Sage said. “I dunno. I just came from there, though.”
“You watched the fight, didn’t you?” Pippa said.
“What fight?” Aura asked.
“Oh, you know, Rosalind challenged Kai earlier today,” Pippa explained nonchalantly.
“Rosalind and Kai? I wish I could’ve seen that!” Carnabel poked her head in, seemingly unaware that she wasn’t supposed to partake in amicable conversations.
“Did you really go watch the fight?” Aura pressed.
Sage grinned and just shrugged.
Aura squealed. “You did! Who won?”
“Rosalind,” Sage admitted.
“I knew it!” Aura hopped up and down.
“You did not,” Marnie rolled her eyes.
“It was a really close match last fall. It’s not that surprising,” Pippa interjected.
“Oh, sorry, Sage. I forgot you didn’t get to see it,” Aura said sadly.
She shifted her weight uncomfortably. Pippa and Marnie looked at each other awkwardly.
“It’s ok,” said Sage, breaking the silence. “But why did nobody tell me about this?”
“What, Bokja?” Aura shrugged. “I guess I figured you knew. It’s kind of a big deal. Most of Eprah watches the tournament in the fall.”
“We get to start training in it next year,” Pippa added. “You know, as long as we test at our level.”
“Yeah, and if we’re really good at it, there’s a chance we can compete in the tournament,” Marnie said.
“Only if we’re really good,” Pippa said. “That’s pretty rare.”
“I guess that means you losers are out,” Carnabel snorted, remembering her manners.
Aura narrowed her eyes at Carnabel. “I’d like to see—”
“Goodnight, ladies! Lights out is in five minutes! Don’t dawdle!”
The younger version of Ms. Pembergast disappeared as suddenly as she had appeared. The girls began scrambling madly to get ready for bed.
As Sage crawled under the covers, she replayed the events of the evening in her head. They’d get to start training next year. She didn’t really need another incentive to do well on her exams, but she most certainly had a new one now.
9. THE CENTER
Sage had become accustomed to Ms. Pembergast’s last-minute announcements. In fact, she rather enjoyed them since they meant a break from routine. However, with the exam in just a few months, she was anxious ove
r any study time she lost, so when Ms. Pembergast cheerily informed them that they would be paying homage to those who had proven their worth to Eprah, Sage groaned inwardly.
“I want each one of you to picture yourself one day living at the Center. What an incredible accomplishment! To have served Eprah so well for so long—it is a noble honor.” Sage thought Ms. Pembergast was choking up by the end of her speech.
They were not the only students to leave the school that morning. A portion of each class from Levels Fifteen and Sixteen, which included the Bokja elite Kai and Rosalind, also joined them on the trek. They trudged through slush until they reached the far edge of town. Sage had never been this far on the other side of the city before. A gate identical to the one she had snuck through six months earlier stood nearby. She glanced at it for a moment but quickly turned her attention back to the group.
She thought it was odd that this place was called the Center when it seemed so far off on its own. The building itself wasn’t unpleasant looking from the outside. It was plain, yes, but it was lined with windows and stood shorter than most buildings in Eprah at only three stories high. Small tables and coordinating chairs dotted the outer yard, and what she imagined would be a flower garden come springtime lined the walls.
The students entered through a large set of double doors and piled into the lobby. The air was filled with a stale, sterile scent that seemed to be masking some other unidentifiable odors. Faux foliage was crammed into every corner, set against pale green walls.
Sage’s class had been the last to enter the building. She scooted to the side of the room to get a better view. A large palm frond poked her in the nose. A man in flowing gray linen pants and a matching buttoned top came walking towards them, arms outstretched. His only hair was a long, thin moustache that fell down on either side of his chin, but he didn’t appear to be more than a dozen years older than the oldest students.
“Welcome, students! Mr. Bertille, always a delight. Mr. Kurtz, such an honor to see you. And Ms. Pembergast, looking lovely as ever.” He made his way to each instructor, clasping their hands in his own and giving a slight bow.