"Tobias, we need to talk," my father says as I am finishing the dishes after dinner. I'm annoyed by his entrance but keep my head down to keep from showing it. I was lost in thought as I scrubbed pans under the hot soapy water. I prefer washing the dishes to cooking, not that I ever get a choice.
I recognize the emotion on my father's face, though I've never seen him express it before. He's worried. Stern, too, but something has him unsettled.
"Yes, sir." I shut off the faucet and stack the last of the wet plates in the drying rack. Normally I'd dry them and put them away, but if this were something that could wait, Marcus would have done so. I look around for Caleb but don't see him. He must be doing his homework. That means he'll have his bedroom door closed, because he always says he learns best in silence. This timing is deliberate on Marcus's part.
"Sit," Marcus orders, pointing to the couch. I almost remain standing just because I want to rebel against something, anything. I fear the consequences of doing so, however, so I obey.
"Your aptitude test is tomorrow."
"Yes, sir."
"What have you heard about the administration of the test?"
There have been rumors around school, there are always rumors, but none of them have ever seemed that believable. "Nothing," I say. "Some kids at school say it hurts, but I don't believe them."
"Good. I knew you would be smarter than that." He paces back and forth in front of the couch. "Now, I need you to listen closely. We are only going to have this conversation once. You must never share with anyone what I'm about to tell you."
"Not even Caleb?" I've never shared anything with my father that Caleb didn't know.
With a stare of incandescent anger, Marcus stops pacing. He grabs my wrist so hard I think he might fracture a bone, looks right into my eyes, and asks, "Were you listening when I said you were not to tell anyone?"
I stifle a squeak of pain and nod. Only after that does he let me go, pushing me back into the couch. I curl into my seat and fold my hands in my lap. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry. I won't tell Caleb. Or anyone else."
I listen to instructions that I know Marcus is forbidden to speak. The secrecy of the aptitude test is closely guarded, even by the Candor. He tells me what choices to make in the test: food, not the knife; save the little girl; sacrifice myself. I am so stunned by his reveal that I can barely reply to any of his questions. As the most trusted leader of the council, if anyone knew what he was telling me right now he could face severe punishment.
I will make these proper choices. I will get an Abnegation result, he tells me. There is no other option.
My thoughts are spinning. I have a thousand questions for Marcus, the least of which is why he thinks it's so important that I know all this.
Because I might not get an Abnegation result, I think. And that would bring shame on Marcus. Another result is certainly possible. I do well enough in school that an Erudite result wouldn't be out of the question regardless of whether I have plans to be a teacher. Unlike Marcus, I don't feel disdain for other factions. When he sneers at what he calls the ridiculous clothing and manners of the Dauntless, I can only figure that they must value their appearance and customs the way he does Abnegation's. Maybe that's part of what's making him so apprehensive: that I can see all the factions as worthy in one way or another even though I know I can only belong to one.
"There is one more thing," he says, sitting beside me so his face is level with mine. "You may experience the feeling of being in two places at once when you are in the simulation. It may feel like your body and your mind are separate from each other. If that happens, you must not tell anyone. To do so could have…dangerous consequences."
This makes no sense to me at all. From what I've learned in science classes, simulations are an all-or-nothing situation. Either you're immersed in it or you're not. Even if awareness in simulations were possible, how would Marcus know about it? Yet another question he will never answer for me.
I nod at Marcus and keep my face relaxed, but I press my palms together so hard the muscles in my upper chest start to burn. "I understand."
"Repeat what I told you," he says, unable to keep urgency out of his voice.
"Take the cheese, not the knife. Save the girl by throwing myself in front of the dog. And if I feel like I'm not entirely in the simulation, don't tell anyone."
"Go to your room," he replies. I see the tension leave his shoulders and I know I'm safe for now. "I'll see you in the morning."
Hatred keeps me awake past midnight. I want to hit Marcus for telling me the things he did, even though another part of me knows that he is trying to protect me from something with his warning. The aptitude test was my one chance to truly know where I belong, and he took it from me. He will access my test results himself if I don't tell him, or if he thinks I lied to him. I wonder for a moment if he would keep me from attending the ceremony altogether if my result weren't Abnegation, but decide he won't. The other council members know I'm choosing this year. Marcus wouldn't want to answer their questions.
The next day, I sit in the school cafeteria next to one of my few friends, Susan Black, as we wait for our names to be called. She looks nervous, and I want to tell her she'll be fine, but I have too much on my own mind. I wonder if Marcus was telling the truth. I discard this thought almost as soon as I have it. The Abnegation think that lying has its roots in selfish motivations, and Marcus adheres to this. You lie to make yourself feel better at the expense of others, is the belief. It's better to tell someone a painful truth than it is to decide you know what's best for another person. But even if Marcus were inclined to lie, he'd have no reason to lie about my aptitude test. And he isn't a good enough liar to fake that apprehension I saw in him last night. I take deep breaths and think of his instructions, rehearsing my fake choices in my head.
"Daphne Sinclair and Tobias Eaton."
We follow the Abnegation volunteer who called our names to the testing rooms. I steal a glance at Daphne, but she is staring straight ahead at the door to her room. No curiosity in her, a good child of Abnegation. My door is answered by a Dauntless woman who seems almost bored as she ushers me in.
I can't help but look at her as she programs the simulation. She has a row of tiny braids over one ear, which bears five sparkly silver earrings. Her shirt is sleeveless, and black and red tattoos cover her arms. The idea of having the daily choice of how to wear my hair, my clothes, jewelry, tattoos, seems overwhelming but also alluring. I want to ask her how she can get anything done in the face of having to make so many decisions every day, but I don't. Instead, I sit in the chair as she instructs.
She looks at her screen, then at me. "Tobias Eaton?"
"Yes, ma'am."
She snorts. "You and all the other Stiffs calling me ma'am. It makes me feel old."
"I'm sorry, ma'am."
Pausing, she then laughs. "Was that a joke?"
I don't know how she wants me to answer. If I say yes, I've amused myself at her expense. If I say no, I've maybe insulted her further.
"Well, if it was, it was a pretty good one," she says, and I allow myself a little smile. "Sit back and drink this." She hands me a vial of clear liquid, just like Marcus said she would. I know what's coming, but I still hesitate. "It's okay," she tells me. "It doesn't taste like anything. It won't hurt."
Nodding, I drink the serum. Then I exhale, force my back to relax, and close my eyes.
Everything happens just as Marcus said it would. I pick up the block of cheese and the knife disappears. I save the little girl, letting the dog close its sharp teeth around my upper arm. I yell out and wake, finding the origin of pain to be not my arm but my lower lip, which I have bitten.
The Dauntless woman is not just looking at me, but studying me. She knows, I think. Just as Marcus warned me, I was aware that my physical body was in a chair at the same time my simulation body was in the school cafeteria. She knows in the same way Marcus knows. And somehow this has put me in danger.
"What was my result?" I ask her.
"Abnegation." But she says it like there's a qualifier to her answer. The want to ask her what's on her screen is tearing me apart. Could she be wrong? Did I really test Erudite, like I hoped? I can't figure out what reason she would have to lie to me, though.
"Tobias, can I ask you something?"
I don't want her to ask me anything. I want her to send me out and forget me just like she'll forget all the other Abnegation kids she tests today. I grip the armrests of the chair and say, "Um…okay."
"When you were taking the test, did you know where you were?"
"Sure," I reply. Despite everything I've been taught about lying and how it goes hand in hand with selfishness, this will have to be an exception. Too much is at stake for me to tell her the truth. "I was in the school cafeteria. Then there was a dog, and a little girl it was going to attack."
"No, I meant…" She's looking right at me, but she twists one of the silver rings around her fingers. "Did you feel like you were anywhere besides the cafeteria?"
I shake my head. "No, ma'am." I maintain eye contact when I say it and pretend I'm giving an answer in class that I'm absolutely sure of.
Looking from her screen to me and back, she says, "Well…if you're sure. But if not, it's all right. You can tell me and I won't share it with anyone, I promise."
I can't tell her, but it's taking all my inner strength not to. She's not Candor, so I don't believe she'd share my secret just because her faction compels her to. I also don't believe she's inherently untrustworthy, and I have been itching to ask someone, anyone, about why I might be dangerous. But I am more afraid of Marcus than I am of lying to this woman. He made it clear that acknowledging my awareness would put me in danger. It's better that I not give myself anything more to have to lie to him about.
Standing, I say, "I'm sure. Thank you," and I leave.
