Fates Unknown

The toaster popped as James poured coffee into a mug for his father, who sat at the table reading the partially transparent morning paper from his wrist holographic. The magnitude of the day appeared to mean nothing to him. His only son could be dead by the end of the day, and he just sat there reading like it was any other morning.

His father’s wrist vibrated, “Mm, you’ll want to hear this, James,” his father said, switching his holo to the local news station; a transparent video feed hovered over the dining table.

“It’s that time of year again, folks, time for the International Citizenry Assessments that will determine the future of our high school graduates. I have Senator Norrington with us today, current head of the ICA committee, to speak directly to this year’s graduates.”

“Thank you, Lindsay. Yes, the ICAs can be a very intimidating assessment, but it’s important to remember that whichever side of the fence you land on, you’re serving millions across the world today. It’s through your service and sacrifice that we’ve cut the global population in half, decreased average global temperatures to a pre-industrial level, crime is virtually non-existent, natural resources are once again abundant – and those are just to name a few.”

“That is truly exciting, Senator. As you know, many in the past have pointed to cultural differences and socioeconomic status as an obstacle for standardized testing. How are the ICAs different, and how would you respond to critics regarding the content of the assessment?”

“Great question, Lindsay. First, I’ll say that before the ICAs were passed unanimously by the U. N. twenty years ago, in 2030, we passed the Culturally Equal Education Program Act, also known as CEEPA, to rigorously overhaul the education system to provide an equal education to all students. Since CEEPA, students identified as minority or culturally different have scored at the same level as their more affluent peers.”

“It’s amazing to see how much CEEPA has improved the education system here and how the ICAs have improved education throughout the globe. It was a revolutionary part of our history, and it should make graduates proud to be a part of something that impacts their community, their nation, and the world.”

“Yeah, and that’s well said, Lindsay. One other thing I’d like to add before closing out here is that our societal longevity is paramount to what we’re trying to accomplish here. I think we all remember what things were becoming before the ICAs were initiated, and I know no one wants to go back to that. So, with that, I wish all of you graduates the best of luck with your assessment today. I have nothing but affection for our citizens. Thank you.”

“And thank you for joining us, Senator,” the dolled-up newscaster added before moving into the next unrelated issue of the day.

James noticed the sweat building on his palms.

“Have you had breakfast?” His mother asked as she walked down the stairs, putting in her earring simultaneously.

James looked at the toast, “I’m not hungry.”

“But today is your assessment. Try to get something down. Becoming a sacrifice is a beautiful affair, but I don’t want it to be your result from a lack of sustenance.”

James could only get half of a piece of toast down before it was time to leave.

“I’ll see you after school, dear,” his mother called, “or if I don’t, just know that we appreciate what you’re doing for the betterment of the human race.”

His father’s car drove him to school before returning to their home, a home he wondered if he would ever see again. He knew he would pass the ethics section; most people could. It was the intellectual section that put students on the wrong side of the dirt. After lunch today, James would have two hours to take the assessment, then his exam would be judged and a determination made.

“You think you’re gettin’ that sugar pill or that death pill today, James?” His friend Greg asked with a chuckle, seemingly appearing from nowhere. “Me? I’m gettin’ that sugar pill, baby. I’ve got the inside on what they’re lookin' for on this thing. No way I’m ending up a sacrifice.”

“What is it?” James asked, baffled by his statement.

“What is what?”

“What’s the inside?!”

“Hey man, don’t talk so loud. You know what would happen if they knew I knew?”

The first-period buzzer sounded, prompting Greg to run down the hall in the opposite direction, “I’ll tell you after class, buddy.”

The period came and went, and Greg was nowhere to be found. James felt a lump in his throat when he entered his second-period history class. He’d nearly forgotten about his presentation.

“James, you’re up first today. The class is yours,” Dr. Hitchens announced.

He moseyed up to the front of the class, preparing to deliver his carefully articulated report on the history of the ICAs, a topic that was chosen for him.

“As all of you know, today is the day that will determine the rest of our lives. Some of us will not leave the school with our hearts still beating, while others will feel the full weight and pressure to further our society by creating something great or new. I’d like to preface my report by congratulating all of us on making it to this point.” That part was hard for James to get out. He glanced at Dr. Hitchens, whose eyes appeared more open than usual, as though he sensed James’ disbelief in the ICA process. That wasn’t permitted, which became more evident to him with the sudden disappearance of Greg. James continued: “The ICAs were agreed upon by the United Nations in 2030 to combat the ever-growing threat of overpopulation. Natural resources were diminishing; food sources were growing scarce; bodies of freshwater were disappearing; the world was on the brink of implosion before the implementation of this revolutionary idea.”

James discussed how the opposition to the ICAs was quickly dispelled, how anyone over the age of 60 would no longer receive medical treatment (except for pain relief), and how the earth had begun to thrive again. He felt disgusted in himself for saying such things, but he didn’t know what else to do. Everyone believed in it; everyone talked about what an honor it was either way. He couldn’t understand it.

He concluded his presentation and looked back to Dr. Hitchens. His eyes were normal again, prompting a sigh of relief.

James was nearly to third-period when the bell rang. He hurried to enter but was stopped by a tight grip on his bicep. He thought he was a goner like Greg.

“In here,” the voice whispered, dragging him into a supply closet. It was Dr. Hitchens. He closed the door behind him with gentle haste.

“What’s going on? What are we doing in here?” James inquired, anxiety apparent in his tone.

Dr. Hitchens sighed, “I think you and I might be the only normal people left in this world, James. I know you don’t believe in the ICAs.”

“That’s not true. I believe in them.” James replied, unsure of Dr. Hitchens’ intentions.

“James, I have a Ph.D. in Educational and Adolescent Psychology, with a specialization in Motivational Evaluation. I think I know what you believe.”

“Fair enough, but what’s this all about?”

“The test is going to see right through you. You've got to be careful answering the questions. And by that, I mean you need to answer them like you believe in the ICAs. You have to pretend to be a sociopath for two hours.”

“Honestly, Dr. Hitchens, I’m more worried about the intellectual section.”

“You think they’re killing people because they’re not smart enough? No, this is ideological, James. Sure, they weed out the weakest intellectual links in our society, but why do you think Maria’s dad just ‘went missing’ after publishing that anti-ICA piece in the Tribune? It wasn’t because he wasn’t smart enough.”

James exhaled a deep breath, trying to process the information.

“Hey, you’ll be alright. Just do what I said to do and come find me after you make it through the judgment.”

James resolved to wait in the closet for another minute after Dr. Hitchens left before going to his final period for the day. Another minute turned into the rest of the period. He wondered if anyone else knew what Dr. Hitchens knew about him. “Do my parents know?” He asked himself, curious if that was why they had distanced themselves from him. “Do they think this world would be better without me?” His stomach started to turn the more he processed what Dr. Hitchens said. The third-period bell rang. James crept out of the closet, slipping in casually with the mass of other students navigating the school’s hallways.

He was a few feet from the assessment room when someone burst out of the door in a hurry, running into him. It was Maria.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. I don’t have all my faculties today.”.

“I know how you feel. How was your assessment?”

“Oh, it went swell,” she said, a hint of sarcasm in her tone. Her eyes began to swell as she looked down at her wrist holo, eyeing the indecipherable code that disclosed her fate. “I’ve got to go, James. I want to get this over with.”

“I’m sorry about your dad,” James said before she could leave.

She turned back, “Thank you.” Her eyebrows furrowed as though she was curious. “You feel sorry for what happened to him?”

At first, James felt trapped but answered honestly.

“Yes.”

She smiled slightly; a tear fell from her eye. “Can you do me a favor, James?”

“Anything.”

“Will you give this to my mother if I don’t make it through today?” She asked, handing him the heart-shaped locket he’d always seen her wear.

“I will, Maria. I swear.”

Maria nodded and walked away swiftly. James placed the locket in his pocket and entered the assessment room. It was incredibly bright, and the air was much cooler than the rest of the school.

“Please have a set.” The man behind the desk said. James had never seen him before.

“Is anyone else testing?”

“No. They’ve already tested. You have two hours starting…. now.”

He submitted his assessment with twelve minutes to spare. The man at the front began skimming his answers in the software system that housed all students’ answers to the ICA.

“I’ve sent your score code to your holo. Have a wonderful day.”

After leaving the assessment room, James understood why Maria wanted to get it over with. He went straight to the judgment room and scanned his holo code. Within a minute, a man came out dressed in scrubs. He held a plate with a cloth napkin on top; a lone, white pill sat in the middle of the napkin.

“Take your time. I’ll step over here, but I’m not permitted to leave. Please lie down on the bed to your left before consuming the capsule. The water is on the side table.” The man was much less insincere than the assessment monitor.

James picked up the pill, observing its size and shape, feeling more indifferent about which pill it might be than he would have expected. He took Maria’s locket from his pocket, opening it slowly. It carried a small picture of her father and mother in a hospital room, holding a baby Maria just after her birth. She slept peacefully, her parents smiling brightly.

James squeezed the locket and popped the capsule into his mouth, holding it in his cheek before sitting on the cold, steel bed. He sloshed the water for a moment and took a swig, consuming the capsule before lying back to await his fate.