Flower Child

Chapter Twenty

Apparently stage two of training is basically just sitting in a hallway and wondering what's happening behind a closed door.
I lay on my back, my head in Lynn's lap. Uriah and Mar are next to us and across the hall sits Tris, Chris, Will, and Al. In stage one, we were separate, but in stage two and three, transfers and Dauntless-born are together, is what Four said before he disappeared behind the mysterious door.
"So." Lynn scuffs the floor with her shoe. "Which one of you is ranked first, huh?"
There is silence until Peter clears his throat, "me."
"Bet I could take you," she says offhandedly, turning the ring in her brow, "I'm second, but I bet any of us could take you, transfer."
I grin up at her, loving the way she knocks Peter off his self made pedestal.
"I wouldn't be so sure about that, if I were you," Peter says, his eyes lit, "who's first?"
"Uriah," she answers, "and I am sure. You know how many years we've spent preparing for this?"
It's a threat clear as day and I have to fight to keep my laugh at bay. I wish she would sock Peter right in his already broken nose.
Before the loud mouth can say anything, the door opens and Four says, "Lynn."
I lift my head off her so she can get up. She walks down the hallway and into the room, Four closes the door behind her. Uriah scoots over and let's me lay my head on his lap instead. I smile at him.
"So you're first," Will asks Uriah.
Uriah shrugs, "yeah, and?"
"And don't you think it's a little unfair that you've spent your entire life getting ready for this, and we're expected to learn it all in a few weeks," Will says with his eyes narrowed.
"Not really. Stage one was about skill, sure, but no one can prepare for stage two," he says, "at least, so I'm told."
No one has a reply for that. It leaves us all wondering about what's behind that door. We sit in silence for about twenty minutes. Mar and Uriah take turns braiding the same strip of my hair over and over again, I don't ask how Uriah knows how to braid.
Four opens the door, "Peter."
I pretend not to notice him look at Uriah's hand as it plays with my hair.
   Time moves slowly, the minutes grinding past like boulders being pushed across concrete. Four calls a name, they disappear, they walk out of the room, their eyes downcast and their steps shakey, he calls another. I almost take a nap on Uriah's lap, but the nerves I feel keep me awake. Our numbers dwindle until it's just, Tris, Uriah, Drew, and I.
   The door opens, "Tris."
   She gets up and walks towards him. Drew sticks his leg out to trip her but she steps over it easily. Four closes the door behind her.
   Just over six minutes later, I swear I hear screaming.
   Minutes after that, Four opens the door again and Tris doesn't exit, "Mor."
   I lift my head off a Uriah's lap and roll to my feet. My body is stiff as I walk towards him. He steps aside so I can walk into the room and he can close the door behind me. When I see what's in there, I take an involuntary step back, hitting his chest.
   A reclined metal chair like the ones in the testing rooms sits in the center of the room. Next to it is the machine that administers the test. The room is the opposite of the testing rooms though, no mirrors, hardly any light.
   Four gently grabs my arms and pushes me towards the chair, "sit."
   I have to swallow to get my words out, "what's the simulation?"
   "Ever hear the term, face you fears," he asks, sounding like he's said this many times today, "we're taking that literally. The simulation will teach you to control your emotions in the midst of a frightening situation."
   I nod even though the words didn't completely process in my mind. It's only a simulation, it's not real, I cannot be harmed. I have to actively think about each step I take towards the chair. I sit down in it and the cold seeps through my clothes.
   His fingers brush against my neck, moving my hair back. I freeze, the cold of the chair having nothing to do with it. His hand moves away and I look at him. He holds a syringe with biggest needle I've ever seen. Inside the tube is an orange liquid.
   "What's that for," I ask, forcing the feel of his warm hand out of my mind.
   "It's similar to the aptitude test serum," he answers, "but we use a more advanced form of it. No wires or electrodes for you."
   I tilt my head to the side, "how does it work then? With no wires?"
   "Well, I have wires so I can see what's going on," he says, "for you, there's a tiny transmitter in the serum that sends data to the computer."
   He gently tilts my head away so he has access to my neck. The needle slowly pierces my skin and a dull ache spreads through my throat. I wince but don't say anything.
   "The serum will go into affect in sixty seconds. This sim is different from the aptitude test," he says quietly, "the serum simulates the amygdala, the part of the brain that processes negative emotions like fear and the induces a hallucination. The brain's electrical activity is then transmitted to the computer and then translates your hallucination into a simulated image that I can monitor and then I forward the image to Dauntless administrators. You stay in the simulation until you can calm down, lower your heart rate and control your breathing."
   It's hard to process what he's saying. I feel symptoms of fear even though there's nothing for me to be afraid of. My palms are sweating, my heart is racing, my chest feels like it's caving in.
   Four takes my face in his hands, "you've got to be brave, Mor. The first time is always the hardest."
   His blue eyes calm me and make things worse all at the same time, they're the last thing I see before I go under.