MBTI high school

Chapter 68

Chapter 68: The Sentinel Project
(Or: how to survive forty-five minutes of perfectly aligned slides)

The jury retakes their seats after a short break.

In the room, the atmosphere has shifted. The Diplomats, still emotionally ravaged by their own presentation, blow their noses discreetly. ENFP's eyes are puffy but he's already smiling, he knows what's coming.

The narrator that I am settles in comfortably.

Because the Sentinels are up.
And with the Sentinels, you don't mess around.

Well. You do. But not in the same way.

★ I. ISTJ or: the man who already submitted his project before the competition began

ISTJ walks onto the stage with the unhurried gait of someone who has no need to impress anyone.

Understandable. He's already won.

He sets a binder on the table. Not an ordinary binder — a ring binder, color-coded dividers, printed labels, plastic sleeves over every page. The jury stares at it the way you stare at a rare species.

— My project is titled: Rehabilitation and Construction of a Public Aquatic Facility with Community Purpose, Including Transparent Budget Management and a Twenty-Year Maintenance Protocol.

Silence.

ENTP leans toward INFJ:

— He said twenty years.

— I know.

— He planned twenty years out.

— I know.

— I have trouble planning breakfast.

ISTJ, unmoved, brings up the first slide. It's perfect. Times New Roman. 2.5 cm margins. Page numbers, bottom right.

The narrator feels something indefinable. Respect, perhaps. Or dread.

— Phase one: existing infrastructure assessment. The municipality had no aquatic facilities within a twelve-kilometer radius. I consulted Article L.2224-7-1 of the General Code of Local Authorities, which stipulates that-

ESFP, in the back, slides toward ESTP:

— He's citing legal statutes at a school competition.

— He's citing legal statutes from memory at a school competition.

—…I kind of hate him a little.

ISTJ continues, methodical, relentless, beautiful in the way of a well-formatted Excel spreadsheet. Budget slides. Timeline slides. Filter-cleaning protocol slides.

Then he moves to the next slide.
A photograph.
The pool. Finished. Inaugurated. Children jumping into the water under an August sun.

The jury says nothing for three full seconds.

— Wait, one of them finally says. Is this… already built?

— Inaugurated on June 14th. Ninety-two people in attendance. The mayor's speech ran six minutes over but I couldn't interrupt him for protocol reasons.

In the room, ENFP smiles. He lets out a low whistle. ESTP looks at him.

— You know something.

— Me? No. Well. Maybe I threw in a few bills. And maybe Mr. Moore did too. Possibly a poker game was involved.

— You funded a swimming pool.

— I helped fund a swimming pool. There's a difference. I'm a philanthropist, not a banker.