Read Online Pass/Fail (2012) by David Wellington - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: David Wellington
Tags: Science-Fiction, adventure, Literature & Fiction, Horror, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Genre Fiction
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Jake.
“Good morning,” the Proctor whispered. The rasping buzz of his voice made Jake’s teeth rattle in his skull. “Are you ready for your next test?”
“I could use some more time to prepare, honestly,” Jake said. He couldn’t imagine ever being ready for one of his special tests. That was part of it, wasn’t it? To catch him off guard. To force him to think on his feet.
The Proctor waited a moment, then repeated, “Are you ready for your next test?” The silver mask didn’t move as he spoke. It just showed Jake his own frightened face.
He swallowed, then nodded. The Proctor seemed to be waiting for him to actually speak, though. “Okay,” he said. “Yes.”
The Proctor held out the piece of paper. “This test will have no automatic failure conditions. Please do not be afraid. You will have the full length of the class period to complete the test, just like everyone else. The questions on your test are the same as those given to the rest of the class, however they are presented in a different format and must be answered in that same format. This should be self-explanatory, and I will not offer you any additional information. Please begin.”
Jake took the test paper and put it down on his desk. At first he thought it had to be a very bad mimeographed copy, completely illegible. Then he realized he was looking at a language he’d never seen before. An alphabet he’d never seen before. Instead of recognizable Roman letters it was made up of squiggles and dots. It was definitely a series of letters, there was a recognizable calligraphy to it, but he had no idea what alphabet it might be. Maybe Arabic?
“Wake,” the PA said. Around Jake twenty-nine pens and pencils started to scratch at test papers.
He looked up, intending to demand more information from the Proctor, but the masked man was gone. Mr. Dzama was sitting behind his desk, reading a newspaper. He riffled the paper, then cleared his throat and said, “Eyes down, Jake.”
Jake licked his lips. What was he supposed to do with this? He glanced around covertly and saw that the other students had test papers in clearly printed English. Some of them looked like they were having trouble answering the questions—others were breezing through the quiz, but they all seemed to understand what was asked of them.
This was impossible. This couldn’t be done.
He glanced up at the clock on the wall. He had forty-five minutes.
Chapter 15
Mr. Dzama didn’t say a word when Jake jumped up from his desk. No hall monitor stopped him on his way to the library, and the school librarian hadn’t even looked surprised when he asked for an Arabic dictionary. He showed her the test and she studied it for a minute—a minute he didn’t really have—and then headed for the reference section to get him the books he needed.
At least, the books he thought he needed.
When the Proctor came, Jake considered tearing the test into pieces and throwing it at him. It would mean a FAIL, of course, but he was already expecting one of those.
“Time’s up, Jake. Pen down,” the Proctor whispered.
Jake stared into the reflecting mask. “This isn’t fair,” he said. “There’s no way I could pass this test. This is just gibberish.” He slapped the test paper where it sat before him, surrounded on every side by books. He had an Arabic dictionary open on one side and an encyclopedia on the other, both of them showing a list of characters used in Arabic. The characters resembled the characters on the test paper in almost every respect—except there were characters on the test paper that apparently didn’t exist in Arabic. He had begun translating a few basic words, transliterating as many of the letters as he could into Roman characters and then sounding them out phonetically, but the results were almost incomprehensible. “These aren’t Arabic words. These aren’t words at all. You gave me a bunch of random squiggles just to see me fail.”
“The test
“Good morning,” the Proctor whispered. The rasping buzz of his voice made Jake’s teeth rattle in his skull. “Are you ready for your next test?”
“I could use some more time to prepare, honestly,” Jake said. He couldn’t imagine ever being ready for one of his special tests. That was part of it, wasn’t it? To catch him off guard. To force him to think on his feet.
The Proctor waited a moment, then repeated, “Are you ready for your next test?” The silver mask didn’t move as he spoke. It just showed Jake his own frightened face.
He swallowed, then nodded. The Proctor seemed to be waiting for him to actually speak, though. “Okay,” he said. “Yes.”
The Proctor held out the piece of paper. “This test will have no automatic failure conditions. Please do not be afraid. You will have the full length of the class period to complete the test, just like everyone else. The questions on your test are the same as those given to the rest of the class, however they are presented in a different format and must be answered in that same format. This should be self-explanatory, and I will not offer you any additional information. Please begin.”
Jake took the test paper and put it down on his desk. At first he thought it had to be a very bad mimeographed copy, completely illegible. Then he realized he was looking at a language he’d never seen before. An alphabet he’d never seen before. Instead of recognizable Roman letters it was made up of squiggles and dots. It was definitely a series of letters, there was a recognizable calligraphy to it, but he had no idea what alphabet it might be. Maybe Arabic?
“Wake,” the PA said. Around Jake twenty-nine pens and pencils started to scratch at test papers.
He looked up, intending to demand more information from the Proctor, but the masked man was gone. Mr. Dzama was sitting behind his desk, reading a newspaper. He riffled the paper, then cleared his throat and said, “Eyes down, Jake.”
Jake licked his lips. What was he supposed to do with this? He glanced around covertly and saw that the other students had test papers in clearly printed English. Some of them looked like they were having trouble answering the questions—others were breezing through the quiz, but they all seemed to understand what was asked of them.
This was impossible. This couldn’t be done.
He glanced up at the clock on the wall. He had forty-five minutes.
Chapter 15
Mr. Dzama didn’t say a word when Jake jumped up from his desk. No hall monitor stopped him on his way to the library, and the school librarian hadn’t even looked surprised when he asked for an Arabic dictionary. He showed her the test and she studied it for a minute—a minute he didn’t really have—and then headed for the reference section to get him the books he needed.
At least, the books he thought he needed.
When the Proctor came, Jake considered tearing the test into pieces and throwing it at him. It would mean a FAIL, of course, but he was already expecting one of those.
“Time’s up, Jake. Pen down,” the Proctor whispered.
Jake stared into the reflecting mask. “This isn’t fair,” he said. “There’s no way I could pass this test. This is just gibberish.” He slapped the test paper where it sat before him, surrounded on every side by books. He had an Arabic dictionary open on one side and an encyclopedia on the other, both of them showing a list of characters used in Arabic. The characters resembled the characters on the test paper in almost every respect—except there were characters on the test paper that apparently didn’t exist in Arabic. He had begun translating a few basic words, transliterating as many of the letters as he could into Roman characters and then sounding them out phonetically, but the results were almost incomprehensible. “These aren’t Arabic words. These aren’t words at all. You gave me a bunch of random squiggles just to see me fail.”
“The test
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