Page 21 of The Knights of Gaia

When Ms. Pirana tapped the slim white controller in her hand, the colossal Scoreboard behind her flashed, revealing a list of all thirty-one Apprentices and their hometowns.

“This year’s Government funds shall be allocated to towns based on their Apprentices’ performance in the Assessment. In other words, if you do well and follow orders, your town prospers.” She held up a stiff, stern finger. “But if you’re naughty, your town shares in your punishment.”

So if I got into trouble—which always seemed to happen, no matter how much I tried to behave myself—the people back in Bayshore would suffer.

Ms. Pirana clapped her hands together once, short and sharp. “The Knights of Gaia is an elite organization. Freeloaders, cheats, and subversives will not be tolerated here.” Her gaze snapped to me.

Great. The General must have told her I was all of the above.

“Any Apprentice who fails to earn a minimum of five hundred Merit points in the first five days,” she said, pausing for dramatic effect, “shall be immediately eliminated from the Program.”

My toes dug deeper into the soles of my shoes. I bet the General had made that rule just for me, so he’d have a way to kick me out of the Program. He definitely wasn’t happy that I was here.

“Apprentices.” Ms. Pirana’s voice snapped like a whip. “Line up and prepare yourselves for assessment.”

Clothing rustled and feet shuffled as we all scurried to line up in front of her and Ms. Featherdale, who still hadn’t spoken a single word. I guess Ms. Pirana was the one in charge. Too bad. Ms. Featherdale actually looked nice. Ms. Pirana looked like a vampire who liked to feast on the suffering of teenagers.

“Hi,” said the girl on my left side. She smiled at me and the girl standing with us. “I’m Bronte.”

“I’m Savannah,” I replied, returning the smile.

“Kylie,” said the girl on my right side, waving.

It turned out that Bronte and Kylie both came from the Fortress—but from very different districts.

Bronte Vance looked like a princess out of a storybook and lived in a place called Killfield, of all things. Killfield was a nearby district, an affluent place populated by Government doctors, scientists, and engineers. Bronte was Killfield’s only Apprentice this year.

Kylie Moore came from the Blue Mountains, an expansive district at the outer edge of the Fortress. It lay directly at the gate to the Wilderness, lands lost to humanity and overrun with Cursed Ones. The people in the Blue Mountains lived a life of hardship and scarcity.

Ms. Pirana cut off our introductions before I could learn anything else about the two girls. “Commence Assessment!” Her voice echoed off the high domed ceiling.

Our First Assessment was a physical one. Ms. Featherdale took our measurements: height, hips, waist, chest circumference. Even the length of our arms and legs. Then Ms. Pirana supervised the weigh-in. She smirked and muttered ‘short and scrawny’ when she recorded my numbers in her charts. I really hated being defined by my measurements, and Ms. Pirana must have known it.

After the weigh-in, they had us run laps alongside the now-closed fence that surrounded the Garden. They made us do pushups, sit-ups, squats, and lunges. They evaluated our flexibility by stretching us until we cried. And they tested our agility and evasion by launching high-speed tennis balls at us using a device that looked like a modern version of a medieval war machine.

By now, it was way past dinnertime. My empty stomach was gurgling, and I was really starting to feel the effects of missing a whole night of sleep. The Fortress was nineteen hours ahead of Bayshore, so I’d effectively lost nearly a day.

But our Program Managers didn’t show any signs of stopping. They moved on to the Second Assessment, an evaluation of our academic knowledge. They went down the line of Apprentices, asking each of us questions on various topics—anything from literature and grammar, to mathematics and science, to history and geography.

All the while, dozens of cameras recorded everything we did. That’s how I knew our families weren’t the only ones watching this so-called Showcase. The General was too. I bet he was the one who got to decide how well we’d performed—and how many Merit points we received.

“Miss Moore!” Ms. Pirana exclaimed. “Step forward!”

Kylie took a cautious step forward. “Yes?” she peeped.

“If you don’t stop fiddling with that ridiculous necklace, I will take it from you,” snapped Ms. Pirana. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Kylie meekly tucked her silver necklace under her shirt.

“Good.” Ms. Pirana moved down the line, searching for her next victim. It didn’t take her long to find one. “Mr. Johnson, what is it?”

The poor boy had voluntarily raised his hand. “Ms. Pirana, may I be excused?”

“Excused? For what? What have you done now, boy?” she bit out through a fake smile.

He gulped. “I wish to be excused to use the toilet.”

“You want to go to the toilet.” Somehow, when Ms. Pirana repeated his words, she made them sound like a capital offense. “Apprentices, are there toilet breaks in the middle of battle? No! If you need to use the lavatory, there’s a schedule for that. Now, put your hand down, Mr. Johnson.” She swiped her finger furiously across her tablet screen.

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