failed my Trial, I’d probably be walking with them. I look up and
squint at the sun.
Pledge is about to start any second. I hate that goddy pledge.
The newsreel running on the JumboTrons pauses for a
second, and then a familiar voice rings out across the city from
every building’s speakers. Along the streets, people stop
whatever they’re doing, turn to face the direction of the capital,
and then raise their arms in salutes. They chant along with the
speaker’s voice.
I pledge allegiance to the flag of the great Republic of
America, to our Elector Primo, to our glorious states, to unity
against the Colonies, to our impending victory!
When I was really little, I’d say this pledge like everyone else,
and for a while I even thought it was pretty cool, declaring my
undying love for our country or whatever. Now I just stay silent
throughout the whole thing, even though all the people on the
streets recite the lines obediently. Why bother playing along to
something I don’t believe in? It’s not like anyone can see me up
here, anyway.
When it’s over and the streets’ bustle returns, the
JumboTrons switch in sync back to a newsreel. I read the
headlines as they roll:
TWELVE-YEAR-OLD TRIAL PRODIGY JUNE IPARIS
BECOMES YOUNGEST STUDENT EVER ADMITTED TO
DRAKE UNIVERSITY, TO BE OFFICIALLY INDUCTED
NEXT WEEK.
“Ugh,” I snort in disgust. No doubt that girl’s some goddy
rich trot living the sweet life farther inland, in one of LA’s upper-
class sectors. Who cares what she scored on her Trial? The
whole test is rigged in favor of the wealthy kids, anyway, and
she’s probably just someone with average smarts who bought
her high score. I turn away as the headline goes on, listing the
girl’s gaggle of achievements. The whole thing gives me a
headache.
