Selection

by Chris Alison, Haycock Elementary School, Falls Church, Virginia

March 22, 2098

"Who will go this year, Sir?"

A dry quiet voice replied, "Soon we shall see."

Bill Loan was a good boy in a good community, and as he walked down the row of metal trees and hover roads everything seemed perfect. And it was, except for one fault.

As a 10th grader with golden brown hair, green eyes, and strut like a young lion, some people might think Bill showed a little too much attitude. That he walked like one of the chosen. One of the certain to be selected.

Even so, in the community, it was hard to feel easy at Grading time. Every year, children disappeared. And the children that remained were better children, in a better community. Bill had seen seven Gradings come and go. With each grading, his classmates grew fewer but stronger. That was the way the community grew like apple trees in the "modified" orchard, each one chosen for the straightest trunk, the largest crop, the sweetest fruit. His neighborhood playmates dwindled, to be replaced with squadrons of sturdy youngsters, each awaiting the next Grading cycle. Bill watched them with an uneasy eye. For seven Gradings he had met even exceeded all expectations. But who could know what criteria guided the minds of the Graders?

Sometimes Bill wondered about his housefathers and housemothers. Each one was a veteran of ten Gradings, one of the chosen. Every year, the housemothers and housefathers carefully designed new generations of children, like navigators charting a course to some distant, unseen harbor. What did they know? Every year they bred, bore, and delivered to the grey doctors the best of their designs. And the grey doctors bundled each newborn into the standard, blue-and-pink starred receiving blanket, for distribution to other, anonymous, housemothers and housefathers in the community. And anonymous children arrived, to be cared for, nurtured, and sent to a new Grading cycle.

One day, as the sun beat fiercely on the new spring leaves, and the smell of plastic azaleas carried all the way from a vacant lot on the other side of the street, two cowbirds fluttered above a gravel path, seemingly to dance on air. "We are kind of like cowbirds," Bill thought. "They lay their eggs in other birds nests and let the other bird takes care of their chicks." The cowbirds tumbled to the ground, clawing in the gravel. Bill thought, "I'm the cowbird's child!!"

"Bill Loan, will you stop staring out the window and follow the Grader," Bill's teacher remarked with exasperation. Semi-embarrassed, Bill got up and followed the Grader.

The Grader turned into a small room and said in a strange, dry, quiet voice, "I will ask you some questions. Answer them immediately. First..."

Everything was fine for Bill until the 16th question, "What do the Graders have to do to earn the privilege to be a Grader?"

Bill didn't know the answer! He had three options. He could pretend he knew and make up an ingenious story. He could guess wildly or he could say he didn't know.

Bill told the truth. "I'm sorry, Sir, but I do not know the answer to that question."

The Grader smiled a toothless grin that sent shivers down Bill's back. "You are dismissed, Mr. Loan."

Bill was terrified. Did he pass or not? Would the Graders come for him? Would he disappear, so close to being chosen? Bill's mind ached with these questions, but he knew that he would learn soon enough, and he didn't like it.

The next day, as the pass cards were handed out, Bill didn't receive one. Looking numbly at the teacher, Bill asked, "Pass?" in a choked gasp.

"Nope. Sorry, Bill," said the teacher in a slow, almost sorry, voice. As the children filed out showing their pass card to the Departure Monitor, Bill followed the Grader and about five hundred other children into the auditorium.

"You who are here did not pass the Grading. You already know that. But we are not without mercy, we will not kill you. Instead you will have sort of a test. If you have paid attention to your history classes you would know of Sphinxes, the old ultimate battle machine. As you know we have not had a war for seventy-seven years. Instead we use them to cleanse the community of the weak. You see our world has a population problem. There are too many people, both strong and weak. To insure the strong's survival we destroy the weak. You are the weak. Do not feel sad, for you are doing this for the good of your community. But as I said, we are not without mercy. If you can last an hour, you shall be selected, but so far no one has achieved this. Good Luck."

There was immediate confusion in the auditorium as the Grader left and a mechanical clank sounded. Bill didn't think, Bill ran. After what seemed to Bill like forever, the loud speaker crackled and blurted out, "Bill Loan, I have the pleasure to inform you that you are the last person in this building. Enjoy, you have 15 minutes left!!"

To Bill this was hardly encouraging. But he didn't have time to think, because just then a Sphinx jumped out from a classroom. It was a deep black, almost blacker than the dark surrounding it. Shaped like an ancient lion but made of metal, there was nothing scarier in Bill's mind. Out of its paws grew huge lethal razors that Bill supposed were claws. The Sphinx roared showing row after row of teeth that looked like they could penetrate anything. Surprised, shocked, and scared, Bill tripped and fell on to the Sphinx's back. On landing, Bill was struck by the cold of the Sphinx. It was not physically cold, but it made Bill shiver. The Sphinx reared, trying to throw Bill off; but Bill's foot caught a red wire protruding from the Sphinx's back. The Sphinx stopped suddenly letting out a petrifying shriek. Slowly the Sphinx lifted a paw trying to untangle Bill's foot while being careful not to make any sudden jerks. Seeing how important the wire seemed to the Sphinx, Bill jerked up his foot, ripping out the wire. The Sphinx immediately clattered on the floor looking like a heap of useless scrap metal.

Bill immediately brightened. Knowing this, he could go around killing the Sphinxes. Bill practically skipped around the corner straight into the face of a Sphinx. Bill hit the ground and the Sphinx jumped over him. Bill got up, but this time the Sphinx didn't miss. It landed on Bill and Bill was shocked at how light it was, not that it mattered. As the Sphinx let out a triumphant roar, Bill could almost feel the Sphinx tear his flesh as it tore up his shirt. The Sphinx raised its paw and Bill prepared for the blow that would end his life. It never came. The Sphinx groaned a rusty groan and fell to the floor as stiff as if it had been frozen. Bill crept out from under the Sphinx and backed away. As he stood his eyes never left the Sphinx. Bill wondered what had happened, but he couldn't wonder long.

A familiar voice interrupted, "Congratulations." Bill whirled around to see that the grader was speaking. "You are the first person to survive 60 minutes with Sphinxes on your tail. You passed the test; you are now one of the chosen."

The End (for now!!)