Alan

“Student Alan, there were a number of problems with your performance,” said Arthur.

Alan’s nose scrunched up. “Like?”

He was already bored of this interview. It took Alan all of five seconds to figure out that the Educators were trying to pick apart their actions during the test. Like, he understood it; they thought they were teaching the students something, but, like, context? What did they expect everyone to do when they were thrown into such a choked up situation without an engine to keep them afloat? Not go savage? Alan was certain his performance had been fine, though, so he was pretty relaxed about the whole thing.

Arthur stared at him with baggy eyes. “Firstly, during the Principal’s introduction video, you accessed the map that showed the locations of the administrator terminals.”

“Uh huh.” A neat discovery.

“There was a person standing next to you who saw it also, correct?”

“Yep.” Lumia. He remembered letting her watch the broadcast on his meus, which he had thought strange at the time. It turned out she had no idea how to use a meus, or any terminal for that matter. How’d she even pass the test?

“And you didn’t bother to consult with her about it.”

“I mean, no? Why?”

“She has an exceptional memory.”

“Ah.”

“Once you were in the test,” Arthur said, “you spent the bulk of your time playing with your meus. You could have used that time more productively.”

Alan slouched forward, feeling genuinely ashamed. Tock had blasted him well enough for it and it was deserved. She was a broken clock: once in a while she’d be right about something. “Yeah, I’m aware of that one,” he said.

“Then,” Arthur continued.

Wow, can you stop? Alan thought. Like, what about all the things I figured out during the test? You going to bring those up?

“You continuously argued with your classmates, effectively dragging others down with you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Alan said dismissively.

“You kept trying to do everything on your own. If you hadn’t been dragged away from the class, you would have achieved nothing.”

Okay, that was a neutron too many! “Well if I hadn’t been there everyone would have failed the test,” Alan cried, throwing his hands up. “I got Leo’s message before it was garbled. I figured out the bad data riddle. I—”

“You could have done all of that as well as helped your classmates,” Arthur interrupted.

Alan stared at him incredulously, trying to think of something witty to say to get Arthur back, but he knew the Educator was right. He turned to the side and exhaled sharply through his teeth.

“Are there any questions?” said Arthur sternly.

“Yeah, actually, a bunch.” Now that he was in his goldilocks zone, Alan straightened a little. He’d already forgotten that the Educators had berated him. “First up, where were the other admin terminals?”

Arthur shared a look with the woman next to him, who shrugged. What’s that about?

“There were three administrator terminals that you missed,” the woman answered. She had a nice face and Alan stared at her a little excessively. “One was located in the Great Hall. If you had accessed it, it would have shown you the locations of the other terminals.”

Seriously?

“The second was in the service hall located on the side of the theatre. It allowed you to unlock the doors of the rooms with administrator terminals.”

And nobody found it? I swear, I’m ripping into Morgan and Raphael when I get out of here.

“The third allowed you to communicate with any other terminal through text. It belonged to the student who completed their test first. In this case, Lumia.”

Alan’s jaw dropped open. Of course! The one person in Plato who’s tech illiterate. Oh, she’s going to hear about that!

“Any more questions?” said Arthur. His tone was even harsher this time.

Alan frowned. “Yeah, a bunch, but I’ll save them for another time.” He’d got enough answers. Now he just wanted to get out of here.

“It’ll have to wait for class.”

“Oh, okay.” So why ask then?

Tock

The chair was just a little bit too short for Tock and her feet barely scraped the ground. So naturally she swung her legs. No matter the circumstances, swinging your legs was mandatory if the seating allowed for it. Also, it was great for relieving stress.

“Student Tock,” growled Educator Arthur. That’s how she thought of his voice: growling.

“Yes!” Tock perked up.

“Stop swinging your legs.”

Tock dipped her toes and her feet came to a skidding halt. “Sorry,” she grovelled. This was not a good start. She prepared to hear her sins recited back to her, and she knew before even hearing them that she deserved whatever judgement she received.

Educator Arthur drilled lasers into her. “During the test, you decided to speak. In doing so, you started a trend which caused a number of students to be locked into their test terminals. Are you aware that the entire test could have been failed because of your actions?”

Tock stared at her shoes. “I am.”

“Furthermore, your decision to walk into the administrator room was reckless. Were you aware that the rooms locked when someone entered?”

“I was.”

“And if you hadn’t dragged another student with you, you would not have been able to complete the task given to you.”

“I know.”

“You were completely dependent upon your classmates. If not for them, your contribution to the overall test would have been less than zero.”

Tock remained silent. Every statement struck her heart like a hammer blow, and it was all she deserved.

“Is there anything you want to tell us?” Educator Arthur insinuated.

Tock began kicking her legs again, then forced herself to stop. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I’m not that smart and I do a lot of weird things. I didn’t mean to almost make everyone fail.”

The Educators exchanged glances. Then Arthur said dismissively, “We’re not the ones you should apologise to.”

A long silence passed as Educator Arthur flicked through his terminal. During that period Tock went over and over her mistakes, beating herself up a little more with each recollection.

Then Educator Arthur queried, “Do you have any questions?”

“Um, yeah,” Tock piped up, raising her hand automatically then lowering it again. As terrible as she felt, she really needed to settle this dispute. “Everyone was speculating on what the purpose of the test was. Can you tell me or is that not allowed?”

Arthur and the woman beside him exchanged looks once more. The woman was super pretty, with melancholy blue eyes that gave her a very refined and mature look. There was a lot of tension between the two of them. Tock’s heart fluttered at the sight and her imagination ran wild.

Oh, they’re totally married. Or maybe they’re secretly together behind their assigned spouses’ backs and are just waiting for the day they can reveal it to the world!

“It’s not a secret,” hummed the pretty woman. “The purpose of the test is to determine aptitudes, gather behavioural data, and, using those, to determine which classes we should place the students in.”

“Huh.” Then Alan was right. Guess I’ll apologise to his stupid face when I get the chance.

Educator Arthur’s tone hardened. “That will be—”

“One more thing!” Tock shouted, raising her hand. This question gnawed her too much for her to wait. “Is it true that students get expelled if they do badly on this test?”

“That’s not—” Arthur began.

“Yes,” the pretty woman answered. Arthur shot her a cold stare. She shrugged. “The test also allows us to determine if a student’s aptitudes are not acceptable for this school. As nobody has been officially enrolled yet, we have the capacity to reject their application until the end of the day.”

“Did we—”

“The test revealed that nineteen students did not meet the standards of King’s College.”

“Oh.”

The woman’s gaze hardened and Tock felt a chill run down her spine. “Three of which were recommended for Descension.”

Tock’s heart felt like it had stopped. All those students may have wanted to be here just as much as her. They would have loved Plato, loved the bees and loved the scent of pollen in the artificial Springtime. And Tock may have just trampled over all of their hopes and dreams to secure a place in Plato’s most prestigious school.

She may have been the reason the five students sitting outside the meeting room would never make it to King’s College.

“Oh.”

Morgan

Two words described Morgan’s current mood: fatigue and foreboding. After the test was over, lethargy had crushed her and she had nearly passed out there in the theatre. It was only by the motivation of her five colleagues that she had gathered the stamina to walk the many corridors to this meeting room.

As for foreboding, there were a couple of reasons she felt this way. First, everyone who left the meeting room appeared much more haggard than how they looked going in—and they all looked completely worn beforehand! Second, there were three Educators, and all their attention was on her. Morgan knew she looked a mess, but with so little time between their summoning and the end of the test, she had no opportunity to correct her appearance, nor the will to drag herself before a mirror.

“Student Morgan,” said the Educator who had introduced himself as Arthur. Morgan had inquired upon the origins of his name, as was her habit, and he had answered with silence. That was very unsettling. She knew that Educators only behaved this way when they were disciplining someone.

Morgan swallowed. “Yes, Educator?”

“For most of the test, you spent your time ordering students to answer questions. When some of those students came to you to report problems, you ignored them. Were you aware of this?”

“Yes, Educator.”

“Were you aware that many of the students that had become non-compliant did so because they were frustrated by your authority?”

Morgan frowned. “No, Educator, I was not.”

“Were you aware that some students saw your group as being more privileged, causing them to doubt your plans?”

“No, Educator.” She never would have even considered the possibility had Educator Arthur not told her so.

“Were you aware that your ‘helper’ regime was futile because many of the questions were not answerable?”

Ashamed, Morgan lowered her head. The implications of that mistake had not struck her until now. She had not had the time to process every little mistake. By reciting them all to her now, when all Morgan could think of was sleep, it felt like Plato was falling down on her. What Morgan had done was push people for reasons that were entirely selfish and wrong.

“I realised too late, Educator.”

“Student Morgan.”

“Yes, Educator?” Morgan’s eyes made contact with the Educator’s.

“During your negotiations, you assumed that your value within those negotiations was of high priority, so much so that you used your own failure as a means to extort a rule change. Is that correct?”

Morgan felt her tactics had been a little underhanded, but it had worked. “Yes, Educator.”

“Are you aware that was not the reason we accepted your ultimatum?”

She frowned. “It was not, Educator?”

“No.” Educator Arthur’s gaze darkened, and Morgan tensed up. “Our purpose was to ensure that students understood the importance of failure.”

“I do not understand,” Morgan said, thrusting forward in her chair. “If my ultimatum was unacceptable, then why was it accepted?”

Educator Arthur shot a look at another Educator who was lounging back in his chair with a steaming mug in his hand. Earlier, this Educator had introduced himself as Educator Bentham. From his voice, Morgan had recognised him as the Educator whom she had negotiated with during the test.

“Because I didn’t want to call you bluff,” said Educator Bentham, the corner of his lip turning up.

The full implication struck Morgan like a bullet. It was luck. They passed because of dumb luck.

Her expression aghast, she collapsed back into her chair. Morgan replied meekly, “I understand, Educator.”

“The reason I am pointing out these errors, while ignoring your successes, is because any one of these errors could have resulted in the whole class failing. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Educator.”

“You may think that you performed well, but your test result was hanging off the Edge.”

“Yes, Educator.”

The rest of the conversation went by in a blur of, “Yes, Educators,” and, “No, Educators.” It was difficult to think. It was difficult to breathe. It was difficult to be here. And if the Educators decided that Morgan did not deserve a place at King’s College, she would have accepted their decision without protest.

Leo

It was quiet outside the conference room, save for the occasional sob coming from Tock. The news about the three students being descended had hit them all hard, but Tock felt it most strongly. For his own part, Leo felt vindicated, and that angered him because he was so choking bitter about the whole thing. No school should have the right to decide a person’s fate. A few mistakes, a couple of asshole teachers, and your life was no longer yours.

There was also another issue plaguing everyone’s thoughts.

“You’re all idiots,” said Alan. He was slouching forward so violently that his head looked like it would fall off his shoulders. “You missed all the terminals.”

“Go throw yourself off the Edge,” Leo snapped back. He didn’t bother looking at Alan, choosing to remain with his head tipped back and staring directly up into the downlights. “Why didn’t you unlock my door?”

Alan scowled at him. “Didn’t think I needed to since you like to break everything. You could have just kicked it down.”

From near the other end of their row of seats, Raphael was staring into the distance. He muttered, “We’re all getting expelled. We’re all getting expelled.”

“Oh, sure,” Leo responded to Alan. “Let me miraculously add another five hundred Newtons to my front kick in the middle of a test. Totally reasonable.”

“No problem! Just take it from your ego; there’s enough mass up there to bring Plato down.”

“Everyone, please stop,” Lumia begged. Her face was strained from exhaustion, making her look ten years older. “There’s no reason to blame each other when we are equally at fault.”

“That is wrong.”

All five heads turned to Morgan. The black-haired girl leaned over her knees, her arms were wrapped around her stomach, and her fingers dug into her sides.

“No, Morgan, everyone made mistakes,” Lumia began, but there was no conviction in her words.

“You’re wrong. I”—she took a deep, shuddering breath. “I was the leader. I asked for that role. It was my responsibility.”

Lumia placed a hand on her shoulder. “Morgan, you can’t take all the blame for—”

“Shut up!” Morgan screeched, and Lumia flinched back placing a hand over her heart. “I didn’t listen. I ignored everyone’s pleas and made them do useless things. I—”

Morgan’s bowl of hair covered her features, but from that veil tears dripped onto the tiled floor. Leo’s heart fell. She did not deserve this pain. Nobody did. It wasn’t their fault they were being shoved around like this.

“If anyone deserves to be expelled from this school,” Morgan whimpered, “it should be me.”

Her nails dug further into her blazer, the cloth twisting around her fingers. Leo gritted his teeth. She’s hurting herself. She shouldn’t be hurting herself. Not over this choking school.

Leo stepped over to Morgan and stood over her. Tears dripped onto his shoes. His hands struck out and grabbed Morgan’s wrists, then ripped them away from her stomach.

“Let go!” Morgan shrieked.

She was tense yet trembling, and it took everything Leo had to keep Morgan from tearing her hands from his grasp.

“Listen to me,” Leo bellowed. Morgan’s squirming faltered. “You do not deserve to fail. Nobody does. But if you do fail, it’s not your fault. If another student fails, it’s not your fault. If everyone fails, it’s not yours or anyone else’s fault. Do you know why?”

Leo edged closer and lowered his voice an octave. “Because this test was designed to make students fail. How can you think you’re to blame when you behaved exactly as you were expected to? They wanted to see us at our worst, and they got it.”

Morgan’s pull weakened. Leo could feel her trembling silently in his grip. He softened his tone.

“Besides, the six of us passed the entire class on our own. If you think that makes you a failure then—I don’t know how to tell you this, but—you probably think there is no such thing as passing. And that’s a choking lie.”

Slowly, one struggling second at a time, Morgan’s hands relaxed. Leo let them drop and they fell limp at her side.

Morgan gave a sharp sniff. “But I—”

“Do you want to know why I really broke the switchboard?” Leo interrupted.

The students all turned to him, including Morgan who looked up at him with bleary eyes and a tear pooling at the end of her nose.

A grin split Leo’s face. “Because I was angry.”

There were a few seconds of stunned silence. Then Raphael blurted out, “But wasn’t there a clue?”

“Nope.”

“But it was part of the test!” Alan cried.

“Nope. Arthur said so. I was just angry.” He flashed each of them with a smile. “We wouldn’t have found the terminal under the stage if I hadn’t broken the switchboard. But I broke it because I wanted to. In other words, we passed the test because I felt like breaking stuff.”

They all wore the same incredulous expression. Then someone giggled. They all saw Tock wiping away her tears, wearing a crooked smile. Lumia was the next to laugh, light and trilling. Raphael muttered a, “You’re irrational,” before he too began chuckling.

Then like a valve bursting, they all broke down into tears. Leo rolled on the floor and smacked the ground. Alan pointed at Leo and blew a raspberry. Tock tipped her head back and kicked her legs. Even Morgan was beaming and her shoulders were shaking with mirth. It went on for so long that they forgot what was so funny in the first place and kept laughing for the sake of laughing.

“I guess,” Morgan said, wiping away a tear. “I guess we should thank the bots for being so incompetent at construction. Otherwise we would not have seen that crack in the floor.”

“Right?” said Leo. “This place is a dump. I mean, even if they expel us, who cares? This place is run by savages.”

“Students.”

They all froze, half on the floor, half red in the face. Standing beside the doorway was Arthur, and he did not look impressed. Leo had to stifle a vicious grin. Good. Look how happy we are. Now you know you can’t make us fall.

Once the students collected themselves, Arthur exhaled slowly through his nose. “Our assessment is complete and we have made our judgement.”

His scowl deepening as his gaze passed over each student, until it settled on Leo and transformed into outright contempt. This time Leo didn’t suppress his grin.

“Against my better judgement,” Arthur continued, “we have decided to place you in Class Euripides. Burn bright, students. And don’t break anything.”

The classmates all turned to each other in a mixture of astonishment and confusion. Of all the nightmarish scenarios their imaginations had conjured, this was too wild even for them.