Chapter 5:  Tests

At age ten, we gathered in the general assembly, the rest of the ship together for the announcement of our positions. Extra rations were available to all that attended, so not a single person was missing from the crowd.

“Welcome,” Boomed the chief from the podium at the front, his eyes bright, “Welcome, to the selection ceremony. We are proud to receive the next wave of students into our citizenship, into our community. Only through work do we persist, and together we survive.” He gestured at us, wearing the blue graduation robes that spent most of their lives locked in a closet, and as such had far brighter colors than any other garment. Then he continued his gesture to a table, where the were twenty five items resting on the surface. One pen, two mounds of dried herbs, and twenty three cherry tomatoes.

“Today, we accept our graduates with open arms. We have full faith in them, and bestow upon them the responsibility of future generations to come. But first,” He said, and held up a waiting finger, “They must pass their tests.”

Three people stepped forward from behind the chief, each in different colored robes. One I recognized as Skip, his hair plastered down for the occasion. The other was Sage, the lead cook of the kitchens, who sometimes gave me an extra portion when I gave her my best smile. And the third was a man that I did not recognize, with a beard that spilled over his chin, and a volume under one arm.

“I shall administer the first test,” Claimed Sage, “Will the interested individuals please step forward?”

Elliott and Hanna moved as one from our crowd, their chins high, their parents in the crowd with beaming smiles.

“For the past six years, you have studied, and you have persevered,” Said Sage, “And now, we must know if that has succeeded. Three questions I have for you, three questions that either a doctor or chef can answer. First, what is the proper herb to administer to those complaining of aches and sores?”

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“Ginseng!” They said together, and Sage nodded as the crowd applauded.

“Next, demonstrate the correct way to prepare the following herbs for cooking,” Said Sage, as two people rushed forward from the crowd with trays, knives, and several green leafs. Both Eliott and Hanna took the knives and separated the herbs accordingly, dicing or rolling them into the correct shapes as Sage nodded.

“And lastly,” Said Sage, with a smile, “What is the oath of the school of Hippoc?”

“To preserve, to sustain, to nourish, and to aid, for the good of the ship.”

And with a final nod the crowd erupted, Elliot and Hanna returning to their seats with the piles of herbs from the table clutched in their hands.

“As we all know, no test is required for students of Vertae, so the next test shall be administered to the sole student of Empri, my very son, whose progress had made me most proud.” Said the chief, and the bearded man stepped forward, a frown on his face.

“It is known,” Said the man, and I recognized his voice from Segni’s lessons, “That the direction of our future is held in the hands of our leaders. That those graduating from Empri are of the highest caliber, are of the brightest minds, and of moral righteousness. Will the interested individuals please step forward for this year’s opening of Historian, so that I, Pliny the Historian, may extend my blessing.

Segni strode to before the podium, his father towering above him as he prepared for the first question. I bit my lip as I looked ahead, and pushed my way to the front of the student crowd, Nean pushing my shoulder as I walked past so I staggered behind Segni.

The chief’s eyes widened as I stared up at Pliny, my shoulders thrown back, and my fists clenched to hide the dirt under my nails. Behind me, I heard the crowd start to whisper, and looked back to see my father among them, shaking his head as his eyes met mine.

“A gardener,” laughed one from the front, “A gardener. Go back to the fields boy, don’t embarass yourself.”

“Indeed,” Said the chief, looking down at me, “Do you presume that you can pass a test designed for the students of Empir? This is for intellectuals, boy, absolutely unheard of. Go on back.”

Skip stepped forward, his face red, pointing at me, “Out of all my class he has the lowest marks!” He spat, “Can’t even make a hole correctly after four years! Slowest learner I’ve ever seen. I apologize, chief, for my student’s ignorance. Get, Horatius.”

Pliny stared down at me, his eyebrows raised, and spoke as well, addressing the audience in his deep voice, “It is written that anyone may take the test, and it is wrong to bar them entry. As such, we cannot deny him, regardless of our opinion if he will pass or fail. Let us begin.”