Poor Man's Fight Read Free Page B

blinked with a bit of surprise. “Is that thing reading a voice print already?”
    “Do you have your identification?”
    “No,” Tanner stammered, “but if that thing just read my voice print, do you still need it?” His tone was helpful. Polite. Utterly unappreciated.
    The woman’s scowl deepened. “What school do you attend?”
    “NorthStar Educational 772.”
    She didn’t look up from her screen as he answered. “Age?”
    “Eighteen point five.”
    “What was the subject of your senior thesis?”
    “Xenobiology and ecology.”
    “You ’re fifty-six minutes late. This will significantly impact your score.” She looked up at him sternly before he could speak. “You may not enter the testing facility with any belongings other than your clothing and any necessary, documented medication. Do you have anything to leave here?”
    “No,” Tanner blinked. He didn’t even have his holocom. He thought of pointing that out, but at this point, she was just an obstacle on his way to a bigger obstacle. There was nothing to be gained in drawing this out.
    “Please enter and find your testing cube on the first floor. Follow the yellow track lighting. Your name will be displayed on your cube.”
    Wasting no more time, Tanner stepped inside. He immediately heard another suspicious beep and looked at the plastic framework of the entryway. Obviously he had been scanned. He knew something like that had to be coming, but it didn’t make him feel any more welcome or relaxed.
    Before him stretched out a wide, open floor filled with two-meter wide, two-meter tall opaque black “testing cubes.” Each cube was nothing more than a trick of projected light and sound mufflers. One could walk right through any of the cube walls, though that would be detected and recorded, leading to harsh consequences. Most of the cubes had “Testing” posted in red letters on each side. Others bore the Union Academic Investment Evaluation seal and the name of its intended occupant.
    Tanner found his cube and stared at the seal while other examinees filed past him. Some wished one another luck. A few sniffled nervously. Most laughed and chattered, either to calm nerves or because they didn’t really give a second thought to the gravity of the situation.
    He looked around, wanting just one more moment with a friendly face but finding no one he knew. He knew that most of his friends were already present, sequestered in their black cubes as their scheduled appointments required. Tanner was very late for his. Every minute hurt his score.
    A scowling adult stomped up to the cube on Tanner’s right and placed his palm on the seal. The cube vanished, revealing a pale, expensively-dressed young man sitting on a minimally endowed chair. For a split second, Tanner thought he saw a small holographic screen projected from the youth’s left hand, but it vanished almost as quickly as the cube.
    “Give it to me,” demanded the adult.
    “What?”
    “The holocom you snuck in here. Where did you hide it? In your ear? Up your nose?”
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” the youth protested. He held his hands up, turning away from the adult as if to express his aggravation. The adult promptly grabbed his left arm. “Hey! Get your hands off me!” A small fleck of plastic fell from the youth’s sleeve and onto the floor. He stepped on it, but he was too late.
    “Get your foot off that.”
    “Off what? You’re crazy! Leave me alone!”
    The adult noticed Tanner watching. “Don’t you have a test to get started on?”
    Instinctively seeking to avoid the man’s wrath, Tanner stepped into the cube. Instantly the sounds of the argument not more than a meter away from him were muffled. Some invisible sensor kept up with the escalating voices, increasing the sound dampening effect until Tanner heard nothing. It was just him, his chair, and the screen set within the opaque holographic wall.
    “Please be seated,” the screen read. A friendly,