Fluorescents flicker on, all but one. The proctor waves us inward, and we file into the room, our footsteps loud on the polished concrete. It is medium sized, and holds roughly a dozen costly looking office chairs. They are arranged in a haphazard semicircle in front of a slender metal podium. Behind that, three sealed portals are set equidistant from one another in the wall opposite the door.
The proctor moves behind the podium and gestures at the chairs. By unspoken agreement, the six of us settle in as far from one another as possible, separated by the empty chairs. The proctor takes no special notice of this, he simply waits for the last of us to be seated.
"You are," he says, his voice soft but incredibly deep for his slight frame, "what remains. Your peers, in their thousands, have either taken the offers for lesser positions that the Company has proposed to them over the course of these tests, or they failed, because they reached a level in the testing that was beyond them.
"Everyone sitting here has turned down at least two offers of lesser employment. One of you has turned down seven, the last of which I made personally five minutes ago in the hopes of preserving someone who could be an excellent asset at the penultimate level of the hierarchy."
We glance at one another, each wondering who the prodigy is. All of us, that is, except a tall, slender black woman in a cream-and-white business suit. She calmly watches the proctor, waiting for him to continue. The other candidate''s glances settle on her, the implication clear in their predatory gazes.
"And so, all that remains is what lies in the doors behind me. Each of you who succeeds, ascends. That is the only possible offer remaining to you. If you fail, none of your previous offers will be valid.
"So saying, here is your final chance. Leave this room and remain in the reception area until I collect you, and the previous offers each of you received will remain open for you to choose from. Any of you would be excellent assets at any of the other levels within the Company."
This time, there is no shuffling, no glances. All of us watch the proctor, silently and attentively.
"So be it."
He turns to his left and walks across the room to a small panel inset in the wall. He places his face against it, putting his eye to a scanner. After a moment, and with a colossal rumble, all three portals begin to roll open, almost too slowly to observe. I can feel the vibrations through my heels and through the chair. Minutes pass as the proctor stands still, staring into the scanner, waiting on cycle to complete.
Finally, the barriers have rolled completely into the surprisingly thick walls. It's almost disconcerting when the noise stops; the sudden silence feels eerie. A light on the scanner above the proctor's head flicks from red to green.
The proctor returns to the podium to address us. "That was precisely five minutes. The test will consist of a series of rooms, each of which contains two such portals, and entrance and an exit. I have opened the first for you.
"You will open the rest, one room at a time. Unlike many of the other obstacles you have overcome, this is not a competition, or rather, it is a competition with yourself. You will be paired with one another, and each pair will enter," he waves to indicate the portals, "one of these rooms.
"You will find a two scanners, one on either side of each exit portal. Each scanner must be used for five consecutive minutes. Failure to keep your eye to a scanner for any amount of time longer than an eyeblink will reset the timer. When a scanner has been cleared, the indicator will switch from red to green.
"Both scanners must be green for the portal to activate. While a pair of examinees is still whole, both scanners must be used concurrently. If one examinee has faltered, both scanners must still be activated to open a portal, but the remaining candidate will be allowed to activate them consecutively.
"You will not be told how many rooms there are. All you must do is continue to open portals until there are no more to open. You will know if you complete the examination successfully.
"That you stand here demonstrates... ambition, at least. On average, a single candidate every decade completes this interview. Are there any questions?"
None of us speak. We've had far less concrete instruction than this for other tests in the previous weeks. None of us are foolish enough to think that this will be as simple as it seems, walking through a room five minutes at a time. There will be surprises in store.
Very well then. Ladies, the two of you will take the portal on the left. You, and you, the middle, and the last pair to the right. The test begins when you cross the threshold.
The prodigy and I glance at one another, and stand to make our way to the portal. We stop just before the entrance, as do the other teams. All of us look at one another for a moment, and then, by unspoken agreement, we all walk through.
----
The moment I and my partner clear the entrance, the barrier crashes back into place with thunderous force, surprising us so much that both of us start, and I actually stumble to my knees. Flushing, I accept the black woman's extended hand and stand up.
"My name is Veronica." she says. "Please call me Ron."
I nod. despite all of the time we've spent in proximity, this is the first time we've spoken.
"Samantha. Sam."
We share a wry grin at the masculine nicknames.
"So," she says, "five offers?"
"It seemed wise to conceal, when this was a competition."
She nods. "It seemed wise to claim, for related reasons."
"How did you know it was me?"
"I didn't, for sure, until just now, but none of the boys seemed to merit quite so much attention. It appears you and I are not in competition here."
I watch her silently for a moment. "Appears. Yes. Shall we find out what the test actually is?"
"Certainly."
We look around the room. As the proctor had claimed, there were two portals, the one we entered, and the one we were expected to leave through, which was bracketed by the scanners, one to a side. The only other feature in the room was the bright lights, and a black dome in the middle of the ceiling, from which cameras presumably recorded the testing.
I walk up to the scanner on the left and examine it. An indicator light, a chin rest, and a sort of binocular hole where eyes were meant to peer inside. On the whole, it looked much like every corporate security scanner I've ever seen. My partner was completing a similar examination, and had come to the same conclusion. Smoothing my skirts, I lean forward to activate my scanner, while she does the same.
As soon as my eyes settle in front of the viewer, twin laser lights strike my retina. Immediately, the ground begins to rumble, just as when the proctor opened the first three gates. Suddenly, my scanner cuts off.
There is irritated embarrassment in Ron's voice. "I forgot about the rumble. Starting again."
In a moment, presumably when she put her eyes back to her scanner, laser light once more enter my eyes. The floor resumes rumbling. A normal retinal scan like this takes only moments, but this is sustained. I can only hope that the Company in all its wisdom knows enough about the tolerance levels of the human eye that successful candidates aren't permanently blind by the time they finish the test.