Read Exams (English edition) Page 5

impenetrable in her alien nature. He would not hurt her, not even for his own good, nor he would hurt Too.

  "Yes. Problems with the desk" Deri said, giggling uncontrollably.

  "We humans do not have to choose whether to join the galactic community or not. We are already part of it, from the moment we knew that it existed" Deri thought.

  The Earth had already been a different planet, since when those extra-solar messages were received. Its inhabitants had learned that they were not alone, then they had had the confirmation that others looked at them as potential brethren. How could a formality strongly establish or refute this? Even if there had been no contacts for centuries to come, man now knew he was observed by his peers and Deri would make ​​it clear to other humans how similar they were, with the same fears and dangers, with sad and cheerful fates, always into their own hands.

  Man could go ahead on his own for a while, taking his risks, and his due responsibility. There were those who waited for him.

  Deri took the pencil with both hands and wrote the word "end" under an empty composition. Now he just had to underline it.

  The pencil seemed to have a will of its own. Deri’s arms were shaking, tears came to his eyes. The pofriria watched him carefully. She said something, but Deri ignored her. He had to stress out that damn word, but he could no longer see it. He had to do it for his brother Danny and his three children Rob, Tor, and Bo, for his friends Ferdi, Oz, Geri, Tia and their children and grandchildren; for the Uzhi Too, and for the cadet whose name he didn’t know; for all creeping, hissing, worm-like men, but men nonetheless. And he had to do it for Deri.

  Through his tears, he carved a tilted and suffered line, while the pofriria kept telling him something he didn’t understand.

  Here, the issue was over, the surface of the table had become dark. The cadet approached him with a note of urgency in her voice.

  Somehow she caught him, which was odd, because he hadn’t realized he needed it, he hadn’t realized he was falling.

  "You can take off that fake head," he said, "I am no longer afraid."

  Deri fainted.

   

  7.

  "A true record, really," Too boomed with all his might. The Uzhi was there, sitting on a bench, watching with some undefined organs Deri, who was waking up. The man noticed that the cadet was next to him too. She was watching some instrument then, satisfied, she approached him.

  "Well back. All right. I leave you," she said, and disappeared with the usual speed, without going through the door.

  "As I said," Too reiterated "a true record, as no one has ever seen."

  Deri was conscious now. He felt a bit weak, but otherwise he could not complain. He watched the Uzhi’s fan wave like a flag.

  "Your composition, I was saying" Too pointed out "the instructions said no length boundaries. So you did it: zero words. All regular."

  The Uzhi clucked, pleased by his own joke.

  "Too," Deri said, clearing his throat, "how did your composition go?"

  "Uuuu, you, actually, how do you feel?"

  Deri felt fine. He was calm, the choice he had made, in the end, seemed the best one.

  "Never been better," he said.

  Too approached him.

  "Does this effect at times. Yes. But it was tough, I bet."

  Deri nodded. Then he looked at the Uzhi, smiling.

  "I’m afraid I have failed, Too. But it's better this way."

  "Do not be pleased. It's not like you think."

  Deri stared at him blankly.

  "WE SAY YOU PASSED, DERI," Too said, shouting. Deri opened his mouth. He had seen people do it in old movies, to reduce the disastrous acoustic effects of explosions in war.

  "Eh?" the man said, stunned.

  "Passed" the Uzhi repeated more gracefully.

  "Passed" Deri said, with a blank face.

  He was so sure of having failed that now the idea of passing was almost annoying.

  "What do you mean by we?" he added.

  "Soreness," Too said "necessary lie."

  "You aren’t here for the exam, Too" Deri said.

  "Not to sustain it. Committee of Examiners. Great composition, Deri."

  The man stood up for a better look.

  "How much have you lied?" he asked.

  "Uuuu. Allot. All those who have written a real composition have failed. It was not that the purpose of the task. Everyone you saw having a crisis, under emergency medical care... those are the ones who are going to join us. The community. And there is no fixed number, Deri. There cannot be. No worthy being can be excluded, we need them."

  "Maybe I’m stupid," Deri admitted, "but I don’t understand. Would you mind explaining?"

  Too lay in a hammock and began to sway lazily. In moving, his body hissed.

  "Like any worthy, you have doubts about yourself. You cannot be sure to merit more than others. It is the consideration you have for others that made you pass, Deri. "

  "Worthy being. Tsk! Human history tells another thing..."

  "Fullishness! Your story is dramatic, like that of everyone. How do you think that my race has passed the primordial stage? It was good at killing, like yours. It’s not the group that must be judged, Deri, but the person. Your species is made of good people, but bad societies. You will learn, with our help. You have worthy basis. Who wrote the composition thought they could get away at the expense of other peoples, assert their racial individuality. We can not accept it. Who hasn’t done it had a crisis with himself, failed to accomplish that for which his wild nature had programmed them: survive as a species. The more instinctive and destructive force of all. And you know why you couldn’t? There is one thing stronger than the survival instinct of a race: the awareness that race does not matter, only intelligence counts. Or, if you prefer, soul. The inner conflict at that point can be terrible, even hurt. Many honest beings lose their senses, leaving their work half done. They pass too. Someone needs more serious cares. Some even hurt themselves. This is why I was in the next desk, I was watching you, writing reports on the behaviour of everyone."

  'Well," Deri said, "in spite of your judgement, I badly want to punch your nose, if I can find one."

  Too cackled again.

  "I can understand this," he said "now I leave you, Ambassador."

  "Whatwhat..."

  "You wouldn’t think you’d got by so easily. You will receive all the education you need. For sure we will trust you more than other professional diplomats on Earth."

  Ambassador. Deri threw the word out of his mind waving both hands. He just wanted to have a nap. He felt calm, but exhausted. Too many things, too fast. The Uzhi left awkwardly through the door. Deri rocked the hammock for about ten minutes, then pressed the multicoloured button.

  "Yeess?" a voice coming from somewhere said.

  "I have a need," Deri said.

  "Yeess?" the voice repeated.

  "I should... well" Deri said, "I have a psychological problem."

  "Yeess. Denomination?" the voice said.

  Deri thought about it for a second.

  "Loneliness" he said.

  "Yeess. Loneliness, I see, yeess," the voice said, hesitating only for a moment. The pofririo was consulting the database of human psychology.

  "So?" Deri asked.

  "Company necessary, yeess," the voice suggested.

  "Exactly," Deri approved.

  "We send cadet. Wait, please."

  Before Deri could answer, the pofriria was next to him. She must have passed through a wall, but again Deri had failed to see how.

  The man smiled.

  "Well," he began, "I must have missed your name..."

  FINE

  The author

  Luca Poggi, engineer, works and lives in Quarrata, on the Pistoians hills (Italy), with his family: wife, three children and three cats. For some years he has been writing stories and novels of various genres, looking at the imaginary and the motions of the heart.

  For 0111edizioni Lu
ca Poggi published:

  “Fuga dallo Sparviero”, science-fiction novel (2011, Italian)

  “Di Stella in Stella”, collection of fantasy tales (2011, Italian)

  “L’ultima pioggia”, fantastic novel (2012, Italian)

  The editor

  Carmelo Massimo Tidona, employee, writer and translator in his spare time, has been reading and writing since as long as he can remember. Some of his short stories have been published in various anthologies.

  For 0111edizioni Carmelo Massimo Tidona published:

  “Trittico Oscuro”, collection of urban fantasy tales (2009, Italian)

  “Riflessi d’Ombra”, urban fantasy novel (2009, Italian)

 
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