I listen to the three of them chat, not surprised that it is Tomas who puts everyone at ease. As always, I'm very aware of being the youngest — and the least experienced. In class, I made sure to raise my hand only if I was certain of the answer so I would never look as though I didn't belong. Now, like in class, I hold back and listen. Tall, blond, and beautiful, Zandri exudes a prickly confidence, but her defensive posture softens when she talks art with Malachi. I'm surprised at the extent of his knowledge of artists long dead.

Now that Malachi and Zandri are filling the silence, Tomas sits back and only adds the occasional comment. He, too, is observing — weighing their laughter and their silences. Tomas notices me watching. Quickly, I look away as my cheeks burn. Not that Tomas isn't used to being looked at. Most girls in our class would spend the entire school day watching him instead of the blackboard. Since his assigned seat was directly behind mine, I never had the distraction. But I'd have to be blind not to notice the way laughter and the single dimple in his left cheek transform his angular face. More than once my fingers have itched to brush back the lock of hair that always falls across his forehead. Not that I'd ever have the courage to try. Which is okay. Boys and dating haven't been on my priority list. And they certainly can't be now.

The trio across the way laughs at something. Shrugging off feelings of being left out, I smile at the group and try to look interested in their chatter. After a while, Zandri and Malachi admit they didn't sleep well the night before. They stretch out on the cushioned benches in the front of the passenger compartment and are out almost immediately.

"Let's move to the back so we don't disturb them," Tomas whispers. My heart skips a little as I follow his lead. Tomas's first order of business is to explore the back of the cabin. I'm happy to open cabinet doors — which contain nuts, dried fruit, cheese, and crackers — and poke into the closet, which turns out to be a bathroom.

We grab a bag of dried fruit and some water and stretch out in the back. Tomas turns an apple chip over in his strong, calloused hands and says, "It's hard to believe they selected four of us this year."

I notice his bracelet design — an eight-pointed star with three wavy horizontal lines. My group. My surprise and worry must show because Tomas asks what's wrong. I explain about the identification symbols. Then, since Malachi and Zandri are both snoring, I decide to be completely honest. "You're going to blow everyone in our group away. Me included."

"Are you kidding?" Tomas's clear gray eyes sweep over my face. After a minute he laughs and shakes his head. "You really aren't joking."

"Everyone knows you were first in our class."

"Only because the teacher wasn't around last year. She doesn't know you built the wind and solar generators we use at school."

"My brothers helped." The achievement wasn't mine alone. I wouldn't have been able to do it without them. "My father says the irrigation system you designed is going to help revitalize areas outside our borders. That's huge."

He shrugs. "My father had been working on it for years. I just helped brainstorm a few ideas and set the thing up. I'm not saying I wasn't important, but I wasn't the genius Ms. Jorghen made me out to be. I got the impression she thought Five Lakes students were simple-minded. You know, since no one had been chosen for The Testing in years. My report on the new irrigation system during the first week of class made an impression."

Tomas is right about our teacher's preconceived ideas of Five Lakes Colony. For the first few days of the new school year every word she spoke was slow and deliberate. She sounded like she was talking to a group of four-year-olds. Then she gave us a "How I spent my break" assignment and everything changed. Ms. Jorghen's face never showed surprise, but the assignments got harder and she stopped talking in one-syllable words. Thinking about it now makes me wonder if my dad was right. If our old teacher misdirected the Commonwealth into thinking we weren't bright enough to be leaders. And if so, why would she do such a thing? Because she hated to see families separated or because she truly believed something sinister would be lurking for us on the other end of our journey?

"What's wrong?"

I blink. "What do you mean?" His raised eyebrow says my innocent act isn't fooling him. So I ask, "Don't you think it's strange that Five Lakes didn't have a Testing candidate for ten years?"

He pops a raisin into his mouth and considers the question. "The only thing I can figure is the Commonwealth government must have thought our population was too small to justify removing citizens. Five Lakes has grown a lot in the past ten years."

About 350 citizens have moved into Five Lakes in the last decade. That doesn't seem like a lot considering other colonies have tens of thousands of citizens.

"You think there's another reason?"

I want to tell him what my father suspected — share the burden. Know that another pair of eyes will be on the watch for signs of danger. But my father's parting words ring loud in my head. If it were just Tomas and me, I might ignore the warning, but we aren't alone. So instead I say, "Seems like there should be. Don't you think?"

"If you figure out what it is, please let me know so I can tell my brother. He's feeling put out that I made it and he never did."

"I know the feeling. Zeen is upset, too."

He smiles at me, flashing the dimple. For the next hour we talk about our friends. Our families. The things we'll miss in Five Lakes. The things we hope to accomplish if we make it to the University. I'm surprised to hear he wants to go into land revitalization like my father. I thought he would look for something more glamorous. Then again, maybe I shouldn't be surprised. Despite his good looks and outgoing personality, Tomas has always been a quiet leader. He is always happy to help a neighbor or one of the younger students, and he does it in a way that does not ask for praise or payment in return. He's someone my father would be proud to have on his team.

We finish the bag of dried fruit and are both still hungry. Tomas grabs a box of crackers and starts to open them when Michal yells back, "We're going to stop for lunch in a few minutes. You might want to wake up your friends."

No need. Michal's voice is loud enough to do it for us.

As Zandri and Malachi stretch and try to get their bearings, I wonder how Michal knew Tomas had grabbed the crackers. The timing was too perfect for it to be coincidence. Tomas doesn't seem concerned. He just stows the box back in a cabinet and walks through the cabin to chat with the others. But his back had been toward the driver's compartment. He probably assumed Michal had looked back and saw him take the crackers. Only, I know Michal hadn't. His head never turned. So how did he know?

There. In the corner of the cabin is a round glint of glass. A camera lens? I scan the rest of the passenger cabin. There aren't any others, which makes me certain I am right.

We are being watched. By Michal or does this camera broadcast farther? Has The Testing already begun? I shiver at the thought of my face being seen on some unknown television. We don't have much use for televisions in Five Lakes. The magistrate has one. So does my father's work and a few other select locations. Rarely are they used. Clearly they are not used so sparingly outside of my colony.

I move to the front of the cabin, feeling the camera following my every move. Does it also hear my words? If I had a chance to inspect the camera, I'd be able to tell. But I don't dare. I decide it's safer to assume it does and stare out the window in an effort to keep my discovery secret from whoever is watching.

The brown and cracked landscape we've been traveling over is transitioning to healthier, greener terrain. From several feet above, I can see the soil is also richer. Blacker. The signs of revitalization. The work of another colony. I move forward in the cabin to stand behind the driver's compartment. Sure enough. Far on the horizon are buildings. Some of them are tall. Much taller than those at home. I wonder what colony is ahead and realize I must have asked the question aloud when Michal answers, "That's Ames Colony. We'll stop at the outskirts and have lunch. The Testing committee arranged for it to be delivered to an outpost for us."

"We won't get to see the colony?"

He shoots me a smile. "You'll see it someday. Right now the Testing committee is keeping you contained so you aren't in fluenced by outside sources. Now you'd better sit down so you don't fall over when I stop this thing."

I return to the passenger cabin, take a seat, and relate Michal's words to the others — all while feeling eyes watching from somewhere behind a screen. The camera and the knowledge that my movements are being restricted makes my head throb and my shoulder muscles tense. The passing of scenery slows. After a few minutes the skimmer lowers and jolts to a stop, pitching Malachi to the floor.

"Sorry about that," Michal says, climbing from the driver's compartment. "I'm still getting the hang of landing this beast. They had to put new brakes on a couple of days ago, which makes it a little temperamental." He holds out a hand to help Malachi scramble to his feet. Then he hits a button and the skimmer door opens.

Warm air and the smell of fresh greenery beckon as Michal climbs out, followed by the rest of us. A small, squat log cabin sits about fifty feet in front of us. Surrounding the building are evergreen trees, hearty bushes, and lots of tall, flowering grasses. It's hard to believe dry, decayed earth is just over the horizon. Whoever cared for the land here did their job well.

We follow Michal down a concrete path to the wooden building. Inside is a small kitchen equipped with a table and five chairs. A small bathroom sits off the kitchen. The entire space is probably fourteen feet square and smells of roasting meat, garlic, and vegetables. There is also a large loaf of bread and a block of cheese sitting under a large glass dome on the counter. The air inside is chilly, and Michal warns us not to leave the windows or doors open or we'll upset the controlled temperature.

One by one we use the bathroom and wash our hands and faces. I opt to go last and wander around the room, pretending to admire the curtains at the windows. I spot the first camera in the light hanging over the large wooden table. The second is in the upper right corner of the kitchen. If there are more, I can't find them. Seeing the two is enough to take the pleasure from the meal. Still, knowing my every moment is most likely being judged, I eat the stew. I smile. I do my best to laugh. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Michal watching me with an eyebrow raised. He glances up at the camera, then back at me, and smiles.

He knows that I know.

I shove a large piece of bread into my mouth so I have to chew instead of talk, which gives me time to think. Michal's smile was pleased. Proud. As though I had been given a difficult assignment and aced it.

He wants me to know.

I'm certain of it. That's why he told us about stopping for lunch when Tomas grabbed the crackers. Sure, it could be chalked up to a mistake. Michal is younger than any other Tosu officials I've seen. Still, he wouldn't have passed The Testing, graduated from the University, or been given this job if he made those kinds of careless errors. Is picking up on Michal's behavior and what it implies part of the test, or is Michal offering me an edge?

Michal opens a cabinet and returns with a heaping plate of cookies. They look like the cookies my mother made for my graduation celebration. Seeing the reminder of home tugs at my heart. The others grab for the unexpected treat. I push back my chair and ask if I can take a walk. "I promise I'll stay in sight. I just want to stretch my legs for a little while before getting back inside the skimmer."

"I don't see why not." He glances at his watch. "We have thirty minutes before we're scheduled to leave. Does anyone else want to go?"

When no one hops to their feet, I snag a cookie off the table, head for the door, and step into the sunlight. The air is warm and wonderful. Better yet is the feeling of being free. No cameras. No judging. No worrying about saying or doing the wrong thing that might result in my failure. Knowing what I'm headed for, I vow to enjoy this one last moment of freedom. To store up the sweetness of it to keep me calm and steady through the weeks ahead.

I spot a grove of evergreen trees off to my right and head toward them. The tall grass brushes against my h*ps as I trek across the thriving ground. I enjoy the crumbly sweetness of the cookie as the trees grow closer.

"Cia, wait up."

Turning, I squint into the bright sunlight and hold my hand above my eyes. I'm surprised to see how far I've come in such a short time. The building that played host to lunch is at least one hundred yards away. Much closer is Tomas, who is moving fast through the tall grass. The idea of sharing my last few minutes of unobserved freedom makes me want to yell for him to turn back. And yet — these are his last uninhibited moments, too, even if he doesn't know it. I cannot bring myself to take them away.

I wait for him to reach me before turning to finish my trek.

"Where are we going?" His question is a bit breathless.

"Just to those trees." We walk the next few minutes in si

lence and have a seat on the shaded, cool ground. "You'd better be careful or Zandri is going to get jealous. She has her eye on you." I'm teasing, but there is truth behind my words. Every flip of her golden blond hair and bat of her eyelash is designed to make Tomas notice her. So far, he doesn't appear to be cooperating. I'm not sure how I'll feel if he does.

"I'm not worried about her. I am worried about you." His hand brushes my arm, sending a shiver up my back.

"Why?"