Alien vs. Alien

Kyle and Buchanan were both nearer to the back of the room.
    There was a stool for Sandra in this room, too, and she perched on it. “I was sent additional questions,” she told John.
    He stared at her. “Why? And why were they sent to you? I’m the administrator of this test in this facility.”
    She shrugged. “Maybe they couldn’t reach you.”
    “You can ask your questions at the end,” he said firmly. “These folks have been delayed long enough.”
    Sandra sighed and pulled out a packet from her jacket. I had no idea how she’d hidden it in there. “Official orders.”
    John took the packet and examined it. “Sealed.” He shrugged. “Looks right, so fine. Now then,” he turned to us, “please put all your personal items, including any electronics, in the basket under your seats and we’ll get started.”
    Amy’s purse was already in her basket. I reluctantly put mine away again. Happily, this desk’s basket seemed normal and not like it was trying to take my purse captive and never let it go again.
    John handed out a folder and mechanical pencils to each of us. The folders had our names on them. “This is not a timed test,” he shared as he went back to the teacher’s desk. “So there’s no pressure. Just choose what you believe is the best answer for each question, and when you’re done, turn re bacyour test over and raise your hand. Obviously, no talking amongst yourselves.”
    He sat and watched us while we got going. My mother had trained me to always read the test through fully before answering, especially if there was no time limit given, so I followed Mom’s teaching and did so.
    At least, I read the first few pages. Then I surreptitiously checked out what Amy and Len were working on. Their pages seemed normally thick. Not my set. It was like I was holding the Fall Fashion issue of
GQ
in my hands—my special test had a
lot
of pages. Sadly, most of them were not ads featuring handsome men in great clothes. All of them were filled with questions I was expected to answer.
    There were a lot of convoluted questions, some multiple choice, some yes/no, some requiring an essay answer. I refrained from asking if we were actually taking the SATs again, because the questions weren’t about algebra or literature. I did recognize the types of questions they were, however.
    This was a psych evaluation, and a really complex one. My father had given tests like this to me, Chuckie, Amy, and Sheila, my other best friend from high school, and, as I thought about it, to all my sorority sisters somewhere along the line. Always under the guise of either having fun or using us to see if a test was too hard or too easy. That none of us had questioned why a history professor needed to give psych evaluations was probably not something I needed to ponder at this precise moment. However, I did know this kind of test when I saw it.
    There were a variety of questions, all asking the same things in different ways, all trying their hardest to ensure that the testee wouldn’t have any idea what the “right” answer was, nor be able to fake replies for too long.
    While I contemplated which response was the most accurate for me in the question of who I would save during a bank robbery—when the offered replies were Other Bank Robbers, Bank Manager, Your Accomplices, or Best Hostage Option—the balance of my mind was trying to figure out what this test proved and why everyone working with Centaurion Division in a nonmilitary role had to take it.
    Every question seemed to be determining what level of bad guy the responder was. I scanned the test again. Sure enough, every question I saw seemed more suited to The Club of Evil Megalomaniacs Entrance Exam than the HSAC test, at least insofar as it had been described to me. I couldn’t imagine Jeff and Christopher thinking this test was no big deal.
    “Yes, Mister White?” John said.
    I looked up and around. White had his hand up.
    “I’m done.” White smiled at me. “I saw no reason to prolong the experience.”
    Ah. He’d used hyperspeed. Lucky duck. I wasn’t able to control it well enough to read and write like an A-C could. I wanted to ask White what he’d thought of the questions, but John had him bring his test forward, then had White sit at the front, near to him.
    One by one, everyone else finished. I was still struggling with how to answer any of these questions and not sound like my next act after the test was going to be blowing up the Base.