High Score

Young men and women take exclusive final exams.

"Think about it," Mr. Reynolds said quietly. "Use your head; don't get in your head. Read each step."

The students bent to their task, concentration etching their faces. Reynolds looked across the class and nodded grimly. They had been a good class, very promising. Yet he knew something they did not: the Tests were not for academia; these tests would determine what they would be when they graduated The Academy. Not what they would do, not who they would be: what they would be.

Reynolds himself had hoped to be a pilot when he took the Test. Even a ground soldier. But the Tests had determined he would teach. And had he had a choice? Of course; no matter what the situation, there is always a choice. He could have become a teacher, as he had done; or he could have chosen exile--within the Gemini dome or without, the results were the same.

As he thought ruminated on his own time in this classroom, Reynolds slowly walked up and down the aisles. He came to a young man who was fretting and shaking over a question. Reynolds put his hand gently on the lad's shoulder to calm him; it worked. There had been a reason he had become a teacher after all. The Tests were right; he was a natural.

Later, after the class had gone, Reynolds sifted through the Tests. Pilot (lucky); Governor; Land Manager... Then he paused, setting all the papers aside save one. He stared at it. He had only seen this profession once before, just before the Crusade had started. Did it meant the bad times would start again?

Why else would a fifteen-year-old kid be sent out into the alleys and catacombs with one mission to his profession?

Dantis Wantantabe had scored perfect for Assassin.

NOTES: ▶︎

Word Count: 300
Submitted for "Daily Flash Fiction Challenge" 
Prompt: Use the words think, read, step

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