Chemistry, Chaos & Steam: A Magistery of Dunces

A Deal Struck in the Night

Throughout Announcing Day, scores would be sent to various households around the Confederation. For the most part, it was a private time spent within the confines of the home. It was understood that if the score were good, parents and relatives would be trumpeting the news to their neighbors whether their neighbors wanted to hear it or not. And if the scores were bad, no one wanted to disturb the families in mourning. It was also a time of impatient waiting. The promise of Announcing Day was that all the tests would be graded and arrive at the taker's doorstep within 24 hours. But that didn't mean that every family was assured of an 8 a.m. delivery. In a normal year about half would go out first thing in the morning with the rest going out by 2 p.m., ensuring that the last would arrive at the nervously waiting homes and apartments no later than 5 p.m.

But April 1, 108 A.F. was no ordinary Grand Exam. The graders got a late start because of Victoria Webster's funeral and as a result, the first batch of scores did not come out until 11 a.m. and the last test results were not delivered until 11:30 p.m. Those last tests were only finished because Proctor Peggy had required that every possible grader contribute. She set the example by becoming a common grader herself; a job she hadn't done for nearly fifteen years. That this enabled her to be one of the graders for Victoria Castillo, daughter of Stakeholder Malfea Castillo did not occur to anyone. By law no grader was supposed to know the test they were grading. But Peggy Newman was the Proctor of the Grand Exam and so the only thing the weary Proctor garnered from her selfless actions was praise for having saved the tradition of timely delivery, even if she had done so with only a half hour to spare.

Victoria had been so tired from the all-night cramming that she hardly remembered taking the test at all. But when she did, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The six-hour ordeal had resulted in her staring down at test booklet left mostly blank. She'd sheltered the empty pages with her forearms so that others nearby wouldn't notice. She needn't have bothered. To a child, they were all taking one long, last look before sealing their many hours' worth of work in the Confederation's large blue envelope used only on this day of days.

As if that weren't bad enough, Victoria had not been given the luxury of going home, slumping into bed and crying herself to sleep. The death of her Amelia Webster had been one of those events in which the leading families of the Confederation just had to be seen. So after having pulled an all-nighter and then flubbing a grueling six-hour exam, Victoria had been forced to "freshen up" and change into her most somber—and therefore most uncomfortable—outfit.

The rest of the day melded into a blur-induced nightmare, the end of which had seen Victoria marching stoically along with her family, just behind Amelia Webster's casket, in a seven-mile funeral procession that wound around the city. Despite, or perhaps because of her pleas, Malfea Castillo gave no mercy to her daughter. Instead, she was lectured on the impertinence of her behavior as well as the importance of maintaining family honor—especially in front of the lower orders. Victoria tuned her mother out. It was hard enough trying to avoid the random but persistent horse droppings much less pay attention to a lecture she had heard countless times before.

When they finally arrived at Grace Cathedral, Victoria's family was ushered in and quietly given a prominent position at the front. However, unlike during the procession, the casket now lay open. Victoria never imagined a human being could grow so old. She stared intently at the corpse, at the innumerable lines crisscrossing the 108-year-old face like fallen gray threads on a milky white field. She imagined in her feverish mind that every one of those dark lines represented some injustice; some slight or indignation that over time wore the heiress down; brought her to this. Victoria believed she could see the pain suffered in that face; feel it, even. Only a force of will kept her spinning head from toppling the rest of her exhausted body.