The Assessment

“NO!”

Zengla's gaze, like all others in the large waiting room, shot towards the black door.  The nervous murmur that permeated the room just prior became an even more anxiety-producing silence.  Many strange noises had been heard throughout the day, but none had made Zengla's blood run as cold.  Only the security officers posted around the room seemed to fail to notice.  Others in the room soon resumed what they were doing, but Zengla continued to stare.

What happened behind the black door remained a closely guarded secret to those less than the specified age of eighteen.  Every time Zengla asked his normally gregarious father about The Assessment, he would look at his shifting feet and fall silent.  The pained reaction his mother showed the first time he asked her about it ensured he never did so again.  His brother left the home shortly after his 'appointed time', never to be seen again.  His good friend Ningo promised that he would divulge every detail after his turn the week before. Afterwards, however, Ningo would only say through free-flowing tears the phrase he had heard every adult he knew utter at least once in his life.

“I have seen, and for the good of The Order, I will obey.”

As the black door opened, an audible gasp came from the room.  The scream had raised the collective tension to a height not previously seen.  A woman in a blue lab coat barely crossed the threshold before reading from her clipboard.

“Nangla Blant, Ornja Blut, Nenga Glund, Vaina Jonx, Plel Mangla.”

The last name called caused the woman sitting directly across from Zengla to flinch.  Her silent sobbing grew quickly into an audible whimper as her face grew more pained.  Zengla saw a nearby security officer take notice and make one step towards her.  She finally arose and walked slowly towards the door, slightly hunched over at the waist with arms folded across her chest. Once she and the four others entered, the black door slammed shut and the security officer returned to his post.

The immediate tension over, Zengla exhaled and slumped in his chair.  As his head bowed, he allowed his gaze to fall to the bright yellow paper in his lap.

“ZENGLA GLOMOLT.  Date of Birth:  1/24/2387.  You are hereby summoned to appear at the Office of Assessment at the Glixnot Administrative Center on Monday, January 24, 2405 promptly at 0800 hours. Bring only this document and your identity card.  Your assessment may take up to three days.”

The next words on the page struck fear in all those that read them.

“Failure to appear at the appointed time will result in punishment by death by authority of The Order.”

He recalled the day three weeks ago when the summons was delivered.  It was not unexpected, but shocking nonetheless.  Zengla and his mother were arguing yet again about something he and Ningo had done when the security forces appeared. After checking Zengla's retinal scan, the officer handed him the yellow envelope and left as quickly as he had come.  Zengla looked up to see his mother holding her hand across her mouth with a look of horror Zengla had not seen since he first brought up The Assessment years earlier.  Tears streamed down her face as she moved to embrace her son.  Through heaving sobs, his mother offered his best clue of what lie ahead.

“I refuse to lie to you...  it will come with pain...  but the direction it provides for us is necessary...  I have seen...  and for the good of The Order...  I will obey.”

As his mother's words played through his mind yet again, Zengla made another unconscious attempt to rub the tension out of his neck.  The effort was as futile as the ones he had undertaken to relax his clinched jaw.  Everyone older than Zengla had passed through the door and they had all been changed.  His father, his mother, and his brother carried an emotional pain inside them that he and everyone younger than he did not have.  As much as every citizen of Glixnot knew that their eighteenth birthday would bring The Assessment, the intolerable uncertainty of what it would do to Zengla was almost more than he could bear.  He only knew of one person older that did not carry that pain:  Ningo.

Three days before, Ningo had taken his life with his own hand.

The black door open swung open and once again the woman in the blue lab coat stepped out while reading from her clipboard.

“Zengla Glomolt...”

Zengla listened no further, there was no point.  He had no idea what would happen to him, but the certainty of a lifetime of emotional pain was something worth fighting against.  Standing from his chair, he uttered the last words he would ever say.

“NO!”