Olive was seated behind a desk in a large room with all the other children. The test administrator, an older looking man of about sixty years of age with two stars, was explaining the test:

  “Intelligence is the ability to learn and apply knowledge, and this test is designed to measure just that. For this test we have invented new, but internally consistent maths, languages, and musics. They will be unlike anything you have ever seen before, and that is exactly the point. You are to learn these new systems and apply your newfound knowledge to problems of increasing difficulty. Good luck!”

  All the students got to work, Olive included. Apparently the first part of the test was to learn the controls, as there were no instructions. The apparatus with which to take the test was a pair of geodesic balls with odd markings. The first touch materialized a three dimensional viewer. Turning the balls and pushing certain objects on it resulted in changing the images on the viewer. The test started with math…

  “Who told her!?” the Premier yelled.

  The gathering was silent. They were all seated to discuss the outcome of the testing and placement of the cohort. Olive was the student up for placement consideration, and she had performed incredibly poorly. The gathering, consisting of the Premier, Dorian, Elizabeth, and Hadron simply didn’t understand the question. So the Premier probed along a different route:

  “Which Center personnel had direct contact with the girl?”

  “Adriana, Gooden, myself, and the test administrator; in that order Sir,” Elizabeth answered.

  “And which of you told her that she performed flawlessly on the preliminary tests?!” the Premier asked. Now everyone understood.

  “I did, Sir,” Elizabeth promptly answered.

  “I would have expected it from Gooden, he has an uncanny knack for making trouble, but I didn’t expect it from you Elizabeth. Are you aware of the misfortune you have unwittingly caused? Olive has already started manipulating us, and I’m afraid she’s going to win a concession.”

  “I don’t understand,” Hadron interjected. The Premier just shook his head.

  “I do,” Dorian filled in. Dorian appeared to be in late twenties, wore black hair pulled up in a bun, had deep glossy black eyes, and sported four stars. He continued, “Olive would rather be home.”

  “But no one goes home after they’ve been brought to the Center,” Hadron interjected clearly confused.

  The Premier decided he should go back to doing the explaining, “That is exactly the point. What does Olive gain? Under normal circumstances she would stand to gain nothing, she would be placed according to her score; ergo, she must think that we aren’t going to place her according to this score and that we’ll try to make her take it again. She thinks that we have some vested interest in her. Specifically, she knows that she performed flawlessly and that a flawless performance is very rare. She’s manipulating us!”

  “Then don’t let her,” Dorian exclaimed.

  The Premier laughed sharply and added, “It’s not so easy Dorian. All children are naturally expert at the art of persuasion, and Olive will be better than most. What would you have me do Dorian? I’m certainly not going to kill her. Should I place her according to her score and risk eventually acquiring an overly intelligent and overtly spiteful officer? I can’t guess her probable score because if I invented one she would resent us. No, if we are going to keep her, we need her trust and goodwill or we’ll forever have to thwart truculence. I refuse to send her back to her parents for good and let the Center lose a most valuable asset while we resign to silently watch a rogue intelligence wander the earth without direction or purpose. Who knows what she would become or how dangerous that would be? I’m afraid we’ll have to negotiate, and I’m afraid that we may have to give her something she wants. I’m afraid that we may have to let her regularly visit her parents.”

  “Premier, no…” Hadron slipped with much consternation and little conviction. It had always been the Center’s policy to remove parents from the equation. The emotional ties would certainly create conflict of interest. Additionally, more intelligent children generally exhibit a heightened sense of emotional being. This was known to be a double-edged sword. It usually invoked an extraordinarily beneficial sense of morality when fostered by the Center’s education, but greater emotion always meant greater volatility. Exposing that volatility to the wild card of parents was almost asking for trouble.

  “Let me do the negotiating,” Elizabeth suggested.

  “As you wish,” the Premier answered with a dismal smile.

  Olive entered a large white office that was sparingly, but elegantly, furnished and sat down. Behind the desk sat Elizabeth. Olive smiled a big, toothy, and remarkably dorky grin that was only partially offset by the twinkle in her eye. Elizabeth knew by the smile that negotiations were already off to an inauspicious start.

  “Hi Olive,” Elizabeth stated in monotone.

  “Hi!” Olive exclaimed unwilling, if not unable, to curb her enthusiasm.

  “We want you to take the test again and perform according to your actual ability. The last thing you want is to throw your life away,” Elizabeth stated matter of factly.

  “I don’t want to take the test again; I want to go home,” Olive replied.

  “We can’t allow that, and you know we can’t. Besides, your parents have nothing left to give you. You are too smart for them. In three years they will wish you were never born; their inability to comprehend you on an intellectual level will frustrate them, and your intelligence without direction will infuriate them. You belong here,” Elizabeth responded. The suggestion that her parents might cease to love her was a hard blow.

  “I’m certain that they love me and miss me… Maybe they want me here, but they also want to see me, and nothing you say, or even they say, will change my mind about that…” Olive responded sourly with a tinge of pain.

  Elizabeth assumed that such a response was likely, but had dearly hoped the “you say or even they say” remark wouldn’t occur. This response hinted three separate things: that she expected to visit her parents, that nothing they said would convince her otherwise, and that even if her parents were to suggest against visitation, Olive would immediately assume coercion. The Center wanted Olive’s goodwill, and Elizabeth was out of options. Olive won, but Elizabeth wouldn’t immediately concede defeat. “I have to discuss your visiting home with the Premier,” Elizabeth conceded. Olive smiled lightly. “Meanwhile,” she continued, “get some rest, and the assistant will show you to your room.”

  “How did it go?” the Premier’s voice asked rhetorically from the air as he materialized in the chair Olive had only recently occupied.

  “I think you know…” Elizabeth said.

  “Well,” the Premier paused, “our database shows the average initial score of people who performed flawlessly on the preliminary tests to be 172. Lets stack the odds in our favor by making her beat a higher score, specifically your initial score…” there was a brief pause as the Premier mentally linked with the database and accessed the information, “of 180.”

  The next day Olive rose from bed entirely against her will. The bed simply gave her no choice. It forced her body to an upright position and slowly dissolved away.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Olive rubbed her eyes, yawned, and disheveled her already bed-tousled hair with her hands. She put her hand to the sensor on the wall and was immediately cleaned and dressed. This was typical, even at home, but she would have preferred some say in her attire. The cadet uniform, consisting of green slacks and jacket, a white collarless shirt, and practical looking boots, was the only option.

  “Olive, Elizabeth expects you in her office in ten minutes,” a voice called from nowhere. Olive rolled her eyes… “Okay,” she called back.

  The walk was a relatively long one from the cadet dormitories to the Center’s center and left little time for dallying. She passed through the hallway to the Dormitory’s lobby to the pleasant outdoors and on to the entrance of the main building. The walk was unnecessary by technical terms, as transportation could have been easily arranged, but the Center thought that walking was good for character. Olive, had she known, would have agreed. She stepped through the entrance of the main building and found yesterday’s large lobby replaced by a considerably smaller one. Olive muttered under her breath, “Why?,” and continued to an attendant at the main desk.

  “The building has changed. Which way to Elizabeth’s office?” Olive asked.

  “Down the hallway, make the first left, and it is the seventh door on the right,” he replied.

  “Thank you.”

  Olive found Elizabeth who smiled and sat down as she motioned Olive to the chair.

  “Olive, for the first time in - ever - a cadet may be allowed to visit her parents…” Elizabeth explained as Olive was trying to control her elation, “if you can satisfy our requirement.”

  Olive darkened. “Requirement?” he asked.

  “You must beat my initial score of 180,” she responded.

  “Or…”

  “Or we will place you at the low end of the average score of those who score flawlessly on the preliminary tests and simply conjure a number for reference. Listen Olive; we don’t want to be your enemy. We believe that exemplary performance merits special privileges, and we have never granted such a privilege to any cadet in the history of the Center. You are very lucky to even receive this offer, regardless of the odds.”

  “The odds?” Olive asked.

  “Only 107 have ever scored flawlessly on the preliminary examinations, and of those, only 9 have scored at 180 or above, myself included” Elizabeth explained. “You would be allowed to visit twice a year for a duration of no longer than five days at a time. Additionally, you would be expected to make up any work you miss, and you would not be allowed correspondence during the year. If your grades slip, your privilege will be suspended until your grades recover. What do you think?”

  “I think that you’re trying to keep me from visiting home,” Olive said despondently.

  “I won’t lie to you. We think that visiting home would be detrimental to your growth and we are doing everything short of making it outright impossible for you to go.”

  “And why not just make it impossible?”

  “Olive, we confer privileges upon those with merit because we want their trust and goodwill. You will do incredible things. Every one of the 107 has. We have tried our best to match the level of achievement expected of you to the magnitude of the privilege you expect to receive. We are trying to be fair, and I hope you choose to comprehend that.”

  “You won’t lie to me… about my score?”

  “To those with discernment, the truth makes itself known- whether we will it or not. We wouldn’t run the risk. But for your peace of mind, we will go over all the incorrectly applied segments and explain the scoring structure of the test. Is that satisfactory?”

  Olive smiled and squealed a resounding, “Yes!”

  “Then head on back to the testing room. It was the first room in this building that you passed on your way here. The administrator is waiting for you,” Elizabeth said. Olive stood up at this and started toward the door.

  “Oh, and Olive…”

  “Yes?” Olive asked as she turned around.

  “Good luck.”

  The still large testing room was empty except for Olive’s desk and the administrator’s. Olive took her seat and the administrator walked over.

  “Would you like me to explain the nature of this test to you?” the administrator asked.

  “No thanks,” Olive replied. “I remember from yesterday.”

  “Very well then. After the test go to the lobby and wait for Elizabeth. You may begin now.”

  Olive playfully spun the little ball and watched the viewer turn on… the test started with math.

  The viewer had symbols arranged in graph form that were conditionally paired with some sort of internally consistent, but non-obvious logic. Even more, Olive could tell that the logic had a geometric expansion founded on an unusual base representation. Not 10, like the fingers on her hand, not 6 like clock, not binary… curious. This test was harder out-of-the-gate than yesterday’s, but to 5 year old Olive, this was literally child’s play. Olive smiled. This was fun. The test was adaptive. The more correct answers she made, the harder the test became.

  In another room that looked exactly like the testing room, complete with simulation administrator and simulation Olive, the Premier, Elizabeth, and Hadron were standing around Olive’s visage and watched her progress intently.

  “She is incredibly fast,” Hadron remarked.

  Olive plowed through the first several parts of the test with incredible ease. In fact, she was working so fast that her body was clearly light-years behind her brain.

  “She discovered that the symbols were based on prime numbers in record time, and quickly went on to the graph permutations in no time at all. More surprisingly, she managed the complex faux language syntax as if she had spoken it her entire life,” Elizabeth stated with a touch of reverence.

  “All that makes no difference. Everyone here answered every single one of these problems correctly, and I expected no less of her, even if she did do it in record time. It’s this next part that high scorers find difficult, the combining of the math, language, and music into one system,” the Premier argued on behalf of his ego.

  “Sir, with all due respect, she’s going to beat all of us. Look at her face- this is a game to her. Also, her brain usage ratio is off the charts. I can’t separate math from language in this mess of neuron firings. She’ll easily hit 180 and get to visit her parents, and she may even beat Galleon’s record on the initial score,” Elizabeth let out. And then, the typically serious Hadron started roaring with laughter…

  “What is it?” the Premier asked with alarm.

  “She didn’t even pause!” Hadron exclaimed while wiping the laugh tears from his eyes, “She had pieced all the systems together long before she even got to this part of the test!” and then, mocking the Premier voice, “It’s this next part that high scorers find difficult…”

  “I won’t stand for any of that Hadron!” the Premier exclaimed sharply, but Hadron just continued rolling with laughter.

  “Premier, she’s nearly at the 180 threshold,” Elizabeth informed the distracted Premier. Hadron stifled his laughter with much effort and went back to paying attention to Olive.

  “And there she goes… right on past it,” Hadron said.

  “Damnation!” the Premier shouted.

  Hadron started laughing again…

  “And right on past your score Premier,” Elizabeth added.

  “And Gooden’s!” Hadron added in a fit of laughter. The Premier looked crossly at Hadron. He did not like being reminded that Gooden, of all people, had beaten his initial score.

  “Oh my…” Elizabeth said under her breath, “She’s approaching Galleon’s score!” Everyone went deathly silent, even Hadron.

  “One right… and two right! We have a new high score,” Elizabeth announced.

  “Adriana, add a few more of the difficult experimental questions into Olive’s test!” the Premier called up into the air,

  “Of course, Premier, but you do realize that they will be statistically irrelevant...” Adriana answered from the air.

  “Yes, yes! I just want to see what she’s capable of!” the Premier shot back.

  “As you wish, Premier.”

  They all watched in suspense as Olive answered the remaining questions.

  “She answered all of them correctly, even the extra ones.” Elizabeth stated in a shocked voice, “What will we do? She has no number.” There was utter silence and for a long while no one spoke. Simulation Olive smiled ear to ear, got up, and walked off the image.

  “Perhaps we should simply give her a number… a 200 or 199 for example?” Elizabeth suggested with uncertainty.

  “We can’t do that… we’d be lying to her. A 200 is an asymptote that is unattainable, and a 199 implies that she fumbled a question. She would come to loathe us at either suggestion when she learns the truth,” the Premier retorted.

  “So what do you suggest, Premier?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Well, our test failed her, and we must acknowledge that fact. I suggest we give her a symbol instead of a number. In the meantime… Adriana! Visit Galleon and try to figure out what went wrong with our test.” the Premier yelled into the air.

  “Well, Olive certainly gets to visit home,” Elizabeth said with a smile.

  “You wanted her to break 180, didn’t you?” the Premier contemplated in a puzzled voice.

  “Yes.”

  “Even though you understood the complications that would arise from such visits,” the Premier added.

  “Of course,” Elizabeth responded with a grin.

  The Premier manifested a chair, sat down, killed the viewer, shook his head, and stated with stupor, “I’ve roamed this earth for 648 years and I still can’t understand women.”

  Hadron started laughing again…

  Olive was sitting with a broad smile of content on a lobby chair while she waited for Elizabeth. Elizabeth walked in and moved on over to Olive. Olive smiled.

  “Here is your pin,” she said with a smile.

  She looked at the platinum pin shaped like the bright fiery ring of an event horizon of a black hole and immediately exclaimed, “This means that I get to visit home, doesn’t it!”

  “Yes it does.”

  “I would have preferred a number,” she said in a decidedly less enthusiastic tone.

  “I know, but the test failed you.”

  “I figured.”

  Which supporting character are you interested in learning more about?