CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
When we get downstairs to the Yellow Dorm Eight lounge, there’s already a crowd. A line of anxious Candidates has formed before a smart-board that has been set up on one wall.
The board touch-screen displays all our names alphabetically in an endless scroll on the bottom strip. Apparently it’s not only the people in our Dorm but the whole RQC.
Each name is followed by a number, like this: Doe, Jane – #123. In case of duplicate names, the Dorm is also listed.
Meanwhile, the upper portion of the board lists our own Dorm residents only, in vertical columns of five, and three across.
If you don’t see your name, you swipe the screen for more, and keep going until you find it. Then, press your name, and it displays your Standing Score in a large font. Below it is another smaller number that represents the Achievement Total. Press the AT, and you get the detailed breakdown of all the achievement factors that went into that sum.
“Oh, great,” Laronda says. “Just what we need, public humiliation. Now everyone can see each of my ultra-lousy scores.”
“Wonder why they didn’t just scan our tokens and tell us privately?” I say.
“Too much hassle, I bet,” Dawn says. “I imagine they don’t want to read off every single detail to six thousand people. Besides, this is public knowledge anyway, might as well know our competition.”
We get in line. Good thing today is not a full day of classes, otherwise we’d be late. Each Candidate at the board takes their sweet time, it seems, jotting down their scores and taking notes, and probably looking up other people they know in other dorms. Good thing they don’t give you the whole RQC’s detailed breakdown data, else we’d be here forever.
“Please don’t take up too much time, Candidates! Look up your own info only, and stand aside—be considerate of others. You can come back later in the day to see it again, this board is not going away anytime soon. Talk to us if you have any questions,” John Nicolard says. The Dorm Leaders are standing off to the side watching this zoo.
About twenty minutes later, I finally get my turn at the board. I swipe, and there’s Lark, Gwenevere – #4,796. And below it is the AT score: 77.
I press the AT score and the screen reforms to show me the breakdown. Fifteen achievement factors are displayed in three columns of five items:
Agility – 3
Voice – 10
Forms – 6
Weapons – 5
Culture – 7
Creativity – 7
Intelligence – 7
Strength – 3
Speed – 4
Flexibility – 4
Balance – 4
Cooperation – 6
Assertion – 5
Endurance – 3
Leadership – 3
Below it also lists the Average of all the fifteen items, which for me is: 5.13. And considering what that means . . . it means I’m pretty much just barely squeaking above average even in my Average—if that makes any sense, sorry about the lame attempt at lame verbal humor. Furthermore, if not for my one single stratospheric Voice score, I’d be way below average.
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QUALIFY: The Atlantis Grail (Book One)
Science FictionNerd girl Gwen Lark must compete in deadly trials against all other Earth teens, including her crush, to Qualify for interplanetary rescue from an asteroid apocalypse, impress her arrogant, flame-hot commanding officer, and save everyone she loves...