Tori and Triss
Chapter One - Aptitude Altitude
The first time I ever saw her, she had entered my cubicle to take her aptitude test. Shrouded in baggy grey robes, she looked impossibly young and skinny. She slinked nervously into the room, sticking by the wall, head down, eyes flitting around trying to identify possible threats to life. Like so many self effacing Abnegation, she wore her shoulders hunched as though standing tall was unnecessarily flamboyant, rather than just correct posture. She was confronted with endless, unavoidable images of her own reflection, that room is still covered in mirrors, God knows why! I am certain that it added to her distress that day, it would have been amusing if it hadn't been so very sad.
In all the time I have been processing these kids I have never grown unsympathetic to their circumstance. Not only Abnegation, but all of them, even the cocky Dauntless and arrogant Erudite. Sixteen year old kids are being funnelled into a lifelong choice based on the outcome of a random test they could in no way prepare for. Terrifying in itself, but add to the mix that many of them were on the cusp of leaving everyone and everything they have ever known. There was also fear, the weapon of choice of the tyrannical. Fear of failure; failing the test, failing to make the right choice, fear of becoming factionless, a fate worse than death. Many of them will avoid becoming factionless, but that is not the point, the point is fear.
Motioning her to the only chair in the room, I feel compelled to assure her that she is safe. "My name is Tori", I smile and hope that affords her some comfort, when she is seated, I start pressing electrodes to her forehead. Granted it is a confronting way to begin but it's a confronting process. She squeezes her eyes shut, perhaps against the light or maybe to distance herself from reality, I clip the end of the electrodes to a small portable contraption. I don't blame her, this whole cultish process is a rort anyway, not that she will ever know. One electrode goes on my temple and now we are all connected, forever bonded through the rituals of our culture. I look down at her and telepathically communicate ignorance is bliss.
I nudge her and she opens her eyes, I put into her hand a small glass vial containing a clear liquid and as she tips back her head she notices my neck tattoo. I can tell she wants to ask but Abnegation never do. "What is it?" she croaks, surprising the hell out of me. My eyes flick back to hers and I silently cheer - there is someone in there after all! Not that I find her particularly deficient, it's the system that reduces most of us to a bit. "It's an eagle," I explain, glad to find I was wrong about her, unable to recall her name, my eyes flick to the top of the screen, Beatrice. Beatrice Prior. "In parts of the ancient world the red eye signifies the sun," I smile at her, "I figured having the sun at my back would help me through dark times." She nods sleepily at my explanation, which she will never know is only partly true.
I watch with my mind's eye; for me it unfolds as a film starring Beatrice Prior as she interacts with various stimuli in a range of settings, for her it is a first person simulated reality. The data gleaned from her responses and choices are recorded and analysed. As she proves unsuited for a particular faction, the simulation automatically eliminates testing criteria for that faction. The sim continues until suitability for one faction is determined. At least that is what they would have us believe and that is the way the program was designed to work.
In any case, citizens may choose to join any faction, regardless of test results and faction of origin. Personally, I think that's just an out; when individuals don't fit so neatly into the model or if anyone were ever to suggest that the faction system is limited - the government, or the powers that be, could legitimately claim that you failed to heed your test results.
I notice a problem early on in Beatrice's simulation, but firstly I don't want to jump to conclusions and, secondly I am hoping that what is about to happen, does not. Shit, this is not good. I look down at this poor wretch of a girl, I watch as her closed eyes reveal urgent activity beneath. I lean forward and touch her face, I don't know why. I feel an inexplicable sort of kinship with her that I know does not exist, can not exist, perhaps it is simply a wish for the power to intervene in her destiny.
No use delaying the inevitable - I rip off my wire and tug hers off only slightly less roughly, I punch the machine off and rouse Beatrice. "Am I done?" she asks, fighting to regain her senses. "All done, little one," I lie, tugging her to her feet, she is still groggy and I use this to my advantage. As I shepherd her toward the exit, she asks "What was my result?" Damn, Damn. "Abnegation" I lie again, trying to get her to the door. "No, No," she is determined that could not be her result, she plants herself in the doorway with surprising determination and her eyes bore into mine, trying to uncover the truth as surely as I am trying to bury it. This lamb sure has spunk, I can't help but think, I feel a sort of pride in her.
"What is my result?" she asks a second time and my resolve evaporates. "Abnegation. And Dauntless and Erudite." I choke out the words, looking down at my feet, unwilling to be the one to lay upon her such a heavy, and dangerous, burden. "The test is supposed to tell me which faction I am suited to?" It's spoken as a statement but she is really asking me a question. I take a deep breath, trying to work out what to reveal and what to conceal. "That is the way the program is designed," I say, "but your results are inconclusive. It happens sometimes. People like you are called Divergent".
"Divergent," she repeats stupidly. "You can't tell anyone, Beatrice, not ever." I take both her hands and look back at her, trying to impress upon her the gravity of the situation. She is shaking her head in denial, "I don't understand, the test is supposed to tell me which faction to choose," I see her fear, it's the same basic fear we all have. We each think of ourselves as unique, disconnected from each other. We understand our experiences as personal rather than universal and therefore our interpret our fear as though it applies to us, alone.
We can all choose to join any of the five factions, however we often only consider two; the one indicated by test results and our faction of origin. For Beatrice, her test results have left her field of options wide open with all five options - the same five options as everyone else. But she can't see this right now, understandably so, she is overwhelmed and without a policy or procedure by which to systematically narrow her options. I know this would make her feel safer. And due to the permanent and imminent nature of the decision, Beatrice is experiencing acute distress.
I don't even attempt to communicate all of this to her, my time is limited. I am already concerned for her safety and want to get her the hell away from this building as quickly as possible. "What should I do?" she asks me. It's an awful question, one only ever asked by the desperate because for the most part we fight like hell to retain our autonomy. On the one hand we all need advice and support, on the other hand I have like 10 seconds before I have to literally shove her out the door, and on the other hand - believe me I know how many hands I am supposed to have, she absolutely can not tell another living soul!
"The best thing to do would be to stay in Abnegation. I'm sorry, Beatrice, I don't know what else to tell you. Go straight home and remember -" she cuts me off "I know, don't tell anyone." The way she says it reminds me of a stubborn child but where I expect to see fear and loss, I see a steely resolve. Or perhaps that is just what I want to see. I shut the door on her and set my back against it, "God speed".