Test, The - Part 2
STRAIGHT
In a post-apocalyptic future, only the fittest males are selected to breed. At age 18, there is a test to determine whether a male will be an alpha or a slave.
` The following is fiction; the actions and personalities contained herein are
the sole creation of the author’s mind. Any semblance to real personages or
events is entirely coincidental. Furthermore, the contents contain scenes of
sexual situations between adults and memories of their childhoods. Finally,
some of the scenes are somewhat violent in nature and may include castration.
If any of the above scenarios disturb you or do not interest you, do not read
further. This work is designed for the sole use of adults who enjoy this type
of story. `

This is the second story in a short series; readers are advised to start with
“The Test, 1” before beginning this chapter.

Amanda slipped the yellow robe over head. She was placing her blonde hair in a
tie as she opened the door and ran to the assembly room of the temple. Running
in, she found a seat at the nearest table and bowed her head over the empty
bowl.

“Is there a reason you are late, Amanda?” the High Priestess demanded from the
front of the room.

“No, your Highness. I just woke up late,” she said with her head bowed.

“I trust you will be more punctual in the future.” Amanda nodded, still
staring at her empty bowl. The High Priestess then nodded and slaves spooned
breakfast into the priestesses bowls.

With a sigh of relief, Amanda picked up her spoon and started on her oatmeal.

* * * 

The Rector looked at the final grades again. Gray hair ringed the large bald
spot in the center of his skull. He stroked his neatly trimmed gray goatee and
adjusted the glasses on his thin nose. He was sure he had done the
calculations right, but he triple checked the numbers. “Yes, that is right,”
he thought to himself. With a large red pen, he made a dark line separating
the top 10 percent from the rest. Then he thought about it again, and checked
the numbers one last time. “What if I made a mistake?” he thought, “it could
change the testing process.”

* * * 

Justin and John along with all the other seniors stood at the barred doors to
the main hall.

“What is taking so long?” one of the boys asked impatiently.

“Not like you are going to place out of the test, Mark, anyway,” another boy
called out. A few boys chuckled.

“The Rector! The Rector! He is posting it!”

The doors swung open. The boys mobbed through the double doors, mumbling,
“good morning, Rector,” as they passed the old man. The boys pushed to see the
results. John saw he failed to make the top 10 percent by just 4 places.

* * * 

“Looks like we have to compete,” John remarked as he lay on his bed.

“At least you were close. I was almost the bottom of the class!” Justin said
lying on his bunk.

“Close doesn’t count in the placements,” John responded. Adding mentally, “and
you are the jock here.”

The boys lay silently contemplating their futures.

* * * 

Amanda was the last in line to file out of the temple onto the lawn. The 100
priestesses clothed in their long yellow robes stood behind the podium. Behind
them, the banners of the royal and the noble families fluttered in the summer
breeze.

The Emperor slowly marched to the podium with two breeders clothed in their
short green robes holding the Emperor’s long red and gold robes. Amanda looked
at the decidedly plain breeders with pity; as a priestess she was surrounded
by the most beautiful young females in the Empire. The Emperor reached the
podium and leaned against it for support. He was one of the oldest living
alphas in the Empire.

“Boys, you are here today for the greatest test in the Empire. You must prove
yourselves worthy to carry on the traditions of our Empire and of our culture.
The best of you will be our future; the rest will serve us. May the gods grant
us the wisdom to select the best.”

“Long live the Empire! Long live the Emperor!” erupted from the lawn. John did
not realize he had cheered until he noticed his raw throat.

John watched as the Emperor stiffly walked to his padded throne to the right
of the podium. A woman in her late 20s wearing a yellow robe and ornate gold
pauldrons and a gold helmet with a yellow plume cascading down the sides
stepped to the podium.

“I am the High Priestess. By his Majesty’s request, the priestesses will
oversee your testing. For those of you who succeeded in academics, we will
test you now. For the others, you will be tested for military service. General
White will oversee your testing. Guards, please escort all of the boys except
those in the first 3 rows to the military training facility.”

John watched as boys were grabbed from their seats and pushed to the side. A
line formed of boys being herded away from the temple, up the hill to the
military headquarters. Then a guard grabbed his arm and pulled him to his
feet.

“Get going,” the burly guard mumbled.

John took one step slowly toward the line. The guard swung his rifle, hitting
him in the small of the back with the rifle butt. John was sure he was
shot—the pain radiated from the small of his back, shooting up to his arms and
down his legs. He felt his body twisting and his back arching backward. He
stumbled, but stayed on his feet.

“Move!” the guard yelled.

John stumbled in the direction of the other boys.

“You OK?” Justin asked when he reached his wounded friend.

“I think so.”

The boys walked in silence up the hill.

  

* * *