The Test

Klara boarded an early train to Universitat Stadt Bern. She jumped on board and felt a whoosh on her face as the doors closed and the oxygen generators sent a light breeze through the carriage. She made herself comfortable in the soft foam chair and closed the door to her solo cabin. Her phonestick rang. The smart wall detected her phone and displayed the details of the call. She glanced at the date: September ninth, 2393. 

“Thank you so much for writing my appeal. I am most grateful,” she said into her phonestick, “I only missed the mark by three points!”

Klara had just turned twenty-five. She was a tall woman with chestnut brown, curly hair. Her face was long, pleasant but not uncomfortably attractive. She had a pronounced chin, a high forehead, and a perky nose. Klara already had a way of speaking which made her sound much older and made people turn their heads to listen to her. She straightened her linen tunic and cracked all her toes in her pineapple leather sandals. She dreamed of wearing the formal university tunic made of a light, shimmering fabric. It would go great with her skin tone. She immediately gasped when she became aware of her thoughts. It would go great with my skin tone? she mocked herself in her thoughts. What a vapid thing to think. She often scolded herself for thinking shallow thoughts or whenever her intellectual process wasn’t fast enough. But that must mean she DOES belong in the Intelligence Collective! Would they allow me to include an analysis of my thought process in my motivation letter? she wondered. She immediately realized it was of no importance. All that mattered was the Test. THE TEST! Only then will she be free of her primitive biological obligations. The Test! The pass to freedom and a life full of adventure and intellectual challenges. THE TEST! She had always wanted to take the Test. She studied hard and practiced her crystalline intelligence in her spare time, daydreaming about one day being able to wear the Collective’s insignia on her left shoulder. She longed to live a sublime, sophisticated lifestyle in a minimalist, one-bedroom apartment. Like one of the luxurious plexi cubes stuck to the side of the mountain, the train has just passed by. She dreamt of working for the university and traveling the world in her spare time. But she had failed the Test. Well, not failed but scored three points below the desired percentage. 

“I’ve asked for a second opinion. I’m sure that the mark was an ideological decision,” she said to someone on the phone. She knew she wasn’t the only one who got surprisingly low marks. Theoretically, the examiner could have received instructions to mark down a certain percentage of tested women, so that they go on to do more menial jobs. This had happened so many times in history - the perpetual sabotage of women to push them into poverty and powerlessness. She wondered if anyone ever tried to sabotage the entire Intelligence Collective? The government could theoretically, secretly consider it a threat. After all, the Collective was created to unify the most intelligent people in the country. This was true power. Historically, all governments had tried at some point to sabotage the intellectuals. She had learned about it in school. When she got the Test results back, she noticed that the freeform essay was where she got the lowest score. It was the only section of the Test where the examiner could judge her thoughts and views - the only section where they could mark her down, as there were no right or wrong answers. 

She clicked on the screen above the food slot ordering a tomato sandwich and iced coffee. The food tunnel ran across the entire length of the carriage, delivering anything she wanted in less than a minute. The beverages arrived in sealed containers and had a special cushion to protect them. She unsealed the coffee can and took a sip of the creamy beverage. The train moved fast across the green hills and pastures, along the neat rows of hydroponic domes and white farm buildings. Food production has been completely automated since 2076. Now, they relied on machines for growing their food, but sometimes humans needed to do some of the picking. She too had done her part, picking fruit at one of the hydroponic farms in school. She looked at her phonestick, waiting for her teacher to call her back. She looked out the window, at the healthy pines, carpeting the old mountains. She always thought herself lucky to live in Switzerland, the hub of civilization, where most of the global administration was now located. Right now there was just one thing on her mind. The Test! The Test was everything! It would decide how she’d live her life. It would decide whether she’ll live a composed, orderly, and entertaining lifestyle or... if she’ll depend on other people’s whimsical demands - always tired, with her intellectual and creative abilities hijacked, without a moment of peace or silence. The Test! Tears welled up in her eyes. Everyone Klara knew agreed that she belonged in the Intelligence Collective. She couldn’t imagine any other life for herself. This was what she wanted! Only this kind of life would make her happy. A life filled with books, passionate academic discussions, and drinking wine on the university’s rooftop on hot summer nights. A life filled with beautiful friendships based on a love for philosophy, oil-based ballpoint pens, and horror stories. This was the life she longed for, her university lifestyle extended into perpetuity. She didn’t want a life that revolved around home goods, grocery shopping, and domestic chores. She wanted a life filled with subtle excitements, art shows, soirees, mental exercise, and thought experiments. She wanted a steady routine that ended with a peaceful evening with a book and hot cocoa. She wanted long train rides to the countryside and solitary walks in tiny, silent Greek villages, without worrying about when you’ll get back home or even if you’ll get back. She dreamt of long talks with strangers in forgotten towns, hours spent listening to their life stories, which they’ve already told hundreds of times, and then scouring isolated beaches, hunting for gold trinkets from the days of old. She wanted to stay bewildered, endlessly marveling at the world and its secrets. With no one to steal her attention from the constant flow of energy, no one to reduce her to performing basic life functions of vacuuming, mopping, and most of all, waiting on small, irrational beings, who were always on the verge of crying. She wanted to spend weekends at the lake, to go skinny dipping in the cold water until she got goosebumps, and then race her friends to the warm cottage, teeth chattering from the cold, to finally fall asleep by the fire, nestled in flannel pajamas under a scratchy blanket. She wanted to travel light, without heavy bags full of things she might need. She wanted silence, without being constantly yelled at and interrupted. A peaceful, adventurous life that would slowly morph into a comfortable decadence of knitting circles, birdwatching, afternoon tea with old friends, and walks in nearby parks, that weren’t too hard on old knees and feet. She was made for this kind of life, for a high quality of life, a higher type of experience. She despised bickering about the costs of living, food, and toiletries, or who did what or bought what and why. The phonestick rang.

“Do you have it ready? Yes, please. Thank you,” she clicked on her phone stick and a wall of text appeared on the wall in front of her. The train compartment was designed for one person only. Society had evolved in such a way that most people had become introverts. In most public spaces, privacy was ensured and every phone could connect to a public screen like the one she was using right now. There it was. Her appeal. Klara quickly corrected some minor logical mistakes and made some changes to the overall style. She pondered for a minute, resting her chin on her fist, staring at the screen, and hit ‘send’. This was just a draft though. She still had to go to the Intelligence Collective’s Communication Hub to confirm and sign with her palm print. She sighed deeply and leaned back in the chair. IT MUST work. This was her last chance. The last thing she could do to save her life. She looked through the window briefly before dozing off. The sound of bells woke her up, alerting her she had reached her destination. She looked out the window and saw the picturesque white city approaching slowly, tall arabesque towers glowing in the morning sun. She gasped and felt a warm glow in her heart. The Universitat Stadt Bern was where she was born and raised - a magical city she fell in love with over and over again.

***

The train came to a halt and she stepped onto the pristine, white platform. The floor chimed in response to her every step and glittered with delicate lights, as the pressure of her feet activated miniature energy generators beneath the tiles. She got into a spontaneous jog, just out of excitement. The station was adorned with 3-D printed leaf ornaments and hauntingly beautiful faces, making it look like a palace straight out of a fairytale. The trains entered the station with the slightest whisper. Cleverly placed sound absorbers ensured that the trains operated almost noiselessly. The white interior of the grand hall was a work of art in itself, with white sculptures merged into the wall and iridescent panels moving like flocks of birds to the delicate sound of glass bells. It was considered one of the twelve wonders of the world. Klara passed an Intelligent Collective’s novice on the platform, almost brushing her clothes with her hand and her throat tightened. Why wouldn’t they let her pass?

***

Klara looked at the screen, sweating with desperation. She was in the Intelligence Collective’s Testing Center and had just finished uploading her appeal in the communication booth. Her test result filled the entire screen in bold orange letters: eighty-seven percent. She stared at it, red with embarrassment. She had never scored below ninety in her entire life. She could hack the system and change the score. There was no human supervisor around. Tears trickled down her face. It wasn’t fair. She wanted this life. She wanted it! She wanted a fun, adventurous life, single life. She wasn’t a social person, she hated loud noises and crowded places. Her personality, values, and lifestyle, it all checked out. She deserved it. She felt her chest tighten and her stomach turn into a knot. Her cheeks turned even redder. She hated breaking rules. It made her deeply uncomfortable. She had never broken a rule in her life. But for this… her entire life depended on the Test. For this, she could risk it. he had learned basic computer-building skills and coding in school like everyone else. She activated a program on her phonestick to override the Hub’s system. She reached to the screen with her shaky hand and pressed the arrow. Click, click, click. The score went from eighty-nine to ninety. The score changed from a sickly orange to light green. She smiled through the snot and tears. Then suddenly the number turned back to eighty-nine. It must be some kind of glitch, she thought. She tapped the screen again. The test result flared up green and then back to orange again. There was no turning back now. She could change it, she could. She looked around quickly and kneeled at the station. She pried the panel open with her long, pointy fingernails. Klara knew there was a hidden administration panel inside the computer. She fixed the glitch and went back to the main screen. When she changed the score this time, it stayed at ninety. She jumped up and down with a quiet “yes!” tapped the door and rushed out of the booth.

“Come with us please,” a voice behind her said. her heart sank. They found her out! Of course, the room must have been monitored, even though all surveillance was now illegal. What was she thinking? She turned around slowly. The Protector’s assistant was waiting for her, dressed in an elegant golden robe.

Klara desperately tried to urge her body to stop pumping blood to her face, but she blushed even more. She followed the beautiful, golden-clad woman down the corridor, and then down the steps, to the basement. The assistant opened a huge door and they entered an ancient, cold cavern. When she entered the tall audition hall, adorned with sculpted golden trees, Klara was so stressed she was sweating and swallowing tears. The protector’s assistant took a seat next to the throne, occupied by a beautiful, elderly white-haired woman dressed in white. The Protector. She looked at Klara compassionately.

“I’m so sorry..” Klara whispered.

“Stop. Don’t say anything,” the Protector said.

“But…”

“Please,” the Protector said and put her palm up.

“But you must let me explain,” Klara gasped.

“It’s fine. There’s nothing to explain,” the woman said gently.

“What? But I…”

“I know. I know everything,” the Protector said and smiled. Klara sighed. Her embarrassment started to slowly turn into cold panic. She suddenly felt calm. 

“What will you do to me?”

The white-haired woman smiled. 

“It took great courage and conviction to do what you did,” she said, “this was the real test” 

“What do you mean?”

“You risked going to prison, having your reputation destroyed, just so that you could get that result? Very brave,” the Protector smiled and put her hands together clapping symbolically 

“Please. I know I’m fit for the Collective. I know it on every level, intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually. I’ve never scored lower than ninety on a test. I don’t know what happened.”

“I know. Your actual score was ninety-eight percent.”

“What? But the results…”

“We altered the results,” the Protector said. 

Klara’s mouth dropped. She looked at the assistant in disbelief. So she did pass the Test. But how could the Protectorate resort to deception? It was completely unethical. Klara felt a hot wave of anger welling up in her stomach and rising to her chest.

“What? You’ve manipulated me?” she whispered. 

Yes, we have. We do this with the most promising candidates”

“And? Are you satisfied now that I’ve violated my own moral code?” Klara snapped. 

“In a way, yes,” the Protector said.

“But that’s evil.”

“We needed to know for sure. We needed to know this is important to you,” the Protector’s assistant explained.

“It IS!” Klara yelled, “You know it is!” she started shaking with rage.

“Some women who had chosen to take the Test in the past, later regretted it,” the Protector sighed. Klara couldn’t make out how old the Protector was. Her hair was white but her face looked young. Did she regret it? Klara stared at the Protector, analyzing her face.

“I know I’ll never regret it. And the procedure is not irreversible! So what happens now? Am I going to prison?” Klara asked. The Protector smiled. 

“No. You’ve passed,” the Protector said. Klara stopped shaking and her red sweaty face immediately turned pale. 

“I’ve passed the Test?” she whispered.

“You have demonstrated commitment,”

“Of course I did. But I wrote about it in my essay,” Klara said.

“A declaration manifests your public desires. Behavior demonstrates what you really want.”

“This is what I want. A subtle, quiet, intellectual life.”

“And you will have it,” the Protector said. Klara stared at her for a minute before she realized that all of her struggles were finally over.

“Yes,” Klara closed her eyes and tears rolled down her cheeks, “thank you,”

“You will do great things, Klara. I can see it,” the Protector said, nodding with admiration.

“I hope I will,” Klara whispered.

“Our society relies heavily on specialization. We don’t need to each get a degree in law, medicine, or baking. We don’t all need to have children. Specialization allows individuals to choose a custom lifepath. Through anonymity and a complex system of academic rewards, we have been able to eliminate hierarchy, nepotism, and gender sabotage in the entire academia.”

Klara had read about it in history class. Before scientific anonymity, men would steal research from women or sabotage their work. Professors with questionable scientific records would be worshipped because of their charisma. Now, research papers were completely anonymous, but scientists were still awarded points depending on the outcomes and importance of the study. They also received titles based on those points. All thanks to the ingenuity of the Protector.

“May all be well with you Klara,” the Protector said and her assistant nodded.

“And you, Protector,” Klara answered and bowed.

She booked an appointment at the clinic on the same day. The procedure lasted about half an hour, thanks to complex laser technology. She stepped outside on the sidewalk. A golden card shone in her hands. The piece of shiny metal was the size of a credit card. It had her name and address on it and her status as a member of the Collective. She now had the power to live how she wanted, to work and learn continuously for the rest of her life, uninterrupted. She smiled and ran her fingers across the edges of the golden card. From this day on, she would now be officially and unapologetically, childfree.