{"id":175,"date":"2019-10-11T20:04:25","date_gmt":"2019-10-12T00:04:25","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/mrfitz.com\/blog\/?p=175"},"modified":"2019-10-11T20:04:25","modified_gmt":"2019-10-12T00:04:25","slug":"scorefall-or-testtaker-a-tale-of-intrigue-danger-and-data-from-7-3-12","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/mrfitz.com\/blog\/scorefall-or-testtaker-a-tale-of-intrigue-danger-and-data-from-7-3-12\/","title":{"rendered":"Scorefall (or TestTaker: A Tale of Intrigue, Danger, and Data) (from 7-3-12)"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

And now for something a little different for this blog: some fiction. A colleague recently mentioned how Florida’s test, the FCAT, is transported from Texas to Florida in a fleet of armored trucks protected by armed guards. I said, “What do they expect, third graders with Uzis to try to steal the test enroute?” And then I smiled– the idea for this story was hatched. The Federal Assessment and Review Test is a guest concept from the novel <\/em>Portents, which I wrote with my son.<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Scorefall<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

(or TestTaker: A Tale of Intrigue, Danger, and Data)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

By David Lee Finkle<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Barry looked down in the darkness through his infrared goggles, glancing between his Batman lunchbox and his jet black backpack where they hung on tree limbs. The backpack held his gear; the lunchbox held the snacks he\u2019d been grazing on all evening. It had been a long night, but it wouldn\u2019t be too much longer. Barry glanced at his glow-in-the-dark watch: it was nearly midnight. The truck should be coming through soon.  He focused his goggles and zoomed in on the highway below. At this hour the two lane road was nearly empty of cars.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            He adjusted himself on the thick tree limb, and then looked over to a neighboring tree. Aiming his watch toward it, he tapped out a message in Morse code, using a small red LED light near the analog number twelve.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Not much longer. Ready?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            The response came back. Ready.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            And then he heard it, the rumble of an armored truck. Lights appeared down to his right, glowing over the crest of a hill. Barry grabbed his backpack, fastened it tight to his back, and prepared to leap\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*  *  *<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBarry James, they\u2019re ready for you,\u201d the secretary said. \u201cAnd bring your backpack.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Barry stood up, shaking out of his reverie even as he shrugged his backpack over his slim shoulders. The pack was lighter now than it had been on that night three months ago.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            He entered the principal\u2019s office, and the secretary, Mrs. Klebb, proffered the  sign-in sheet for him. She was plump, prim, and wore a polka-dot dress. She pursed her slightly wrinkled lips at him and arched one eyebrow at him when he hesitated.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cDo I really have to?\u201d he asked. \u201cYou know who I am.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cYou need to follow the rules, young man. I think it\u2019s about time you learned that. Fill in the chart.\u201d Her voice was stern, sharp\u2014the kind of voice that made most people jump and obey. Barry jumped a bit himself, but then gave her a long, slow stare before he took the black pen in hand and filled out the required information.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

NAME: Barry James<\/p>\n\n\n\n

GRADE: 3rd<\/p>\n\n\n\n

STUDENT ID: 007<\/p>\n\n\n\n

TEACHER\u2019S NAME: Mrs. Bruce<\/p>\n\n\n\n

REASON FOR VISIT: Possible criminal charges.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He put down the pen and followed Mrs. Klebb down the hall. His stomach flipped around inside him, but he kept his face impassive. His stomach had flipped around worse three months earlier, but it hadn\u2019t stopped him then.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*  *  *<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Barry leapt from the limb just as the armored truck drove under the tree. He pulled a string on his belt, and a black airbag burst from his torso, its downward side full of suction cups. He hit the roof with a padded, muffled thud, nothing the driver would notice, and the suction cups held him there. He looked across the metal roof top to where another figure had also just landed. Like Barry, this figure was also clad all in black and suctioned cupped to the roof. Over the roar of the engine, Barry spoke into the microphone that hung from his goggles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cSo far, so good, right, Quentin?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cYeah, Barry. Now comes the hard part.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Barry watched as Quentin pulled a cylindrical device out of his backpack, fastened it to the roof of the truck, and pushed a button. A thin beam, intense and molten red, emitted from the bottom of the device and began to carve a circle in the roof. Barry smiled at Quentin. This might just work!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            *  *  *<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Barry gave Quentin a weak smile as he entered the principal\u2019s office and found his best friend already sitting in one of the uncomfortable black chairs facing the principal\u2019s desk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The principal\u2019s office was a large room, windowless, with a bank of TV screens covering one wall and a bank of computer screens covering the other. The TV screens displayed views of various hallways and balconies around campus, a never ending parade of security camera views; the computer screens displayed student test data on graphs, charts, pie charts, and a running tickertape live feed from the electronic clicker quizzes being administered in various classrooms. The wall behind the desk was a blank expanse of white cinderblock broken only by three diplomas. The principal\u2019s desk was dominated by a large, black three ring binder filled with papers that were filled with charts like the ones on the screens. It was a sacred relic of the past: the principal\u2019s data notebook.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            The principal\u2019s large, black, high-backed leather office chair was facing away from them. A low female voice spoke from its depths. \u201cPlease sit down, Mr. James. We\u2019ve been awaiting your arrival.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The door slammed behind him, and Barry turned to find the campus police officer, Deputy Spang, and another dark suited man were standing rather ominously behind him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cI believe she requested you to sit,\u201d said Spang, gesturing toward the chair, his pale face unsmiling. The dark suited man said nothing. Barry sat. What else could he do?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Barry glanced at the name plate on the desk. It read Dr. B. Feld: Principal of the Year. The black chair swiveled around to reveal Dr. Feld. She was pale and round faced, and her close cut, pink dyed hair gave her the appearance of baldness. She wore a simple, pitch black dress with large black buttons down the front and a high collar similar to a priest\u2019s. On her lap sat what appeared to be a fluffy white cat, but Barry knew better. The cat was actually a clever cross between a stuffed animal and a puppet, and Dr. Feld\u2019s hand was really up inside the cat\u2019s guts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cMr. Bubbles is unhappy, Barry,\u201d Dr. Feld cooed, stroking the cat\u2019s fur with her left hand and also moving her right hand so the cat appeared to nuzzle her. \u201cCan you guess why Mr. Bubbles is unhappy, Barry?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Barry hated this game. This was how she talked to all the students at the school, by transferring her emotions onto the cat and talking about the cat and to the cat. It was all he could do to not roll his eyes. He glanced at Quentin, who widened his eyes slightly in warning: Answer her!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Barry turned back to Dr. Feld and shrugged. \u201cI don\u2019t know why he\u2019s unhappy. His kitty litter needs to be changed?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            A long, slow cruel grin spread across Dr. Feld\u2019s face. \u201cMr. Bubbles doesn\u2019t believe you are in a position for such facetiousness. That\u2019s a big word. Mr. Bubbles wonders if you know what it means.\u201d She stroked the cat\u2019s fur and then pretended to make it purr.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cYes, I know what it means. Would you like to make it into a multiple choice question?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Dr. Feld suddenly lurched across the shiny top of her desk, sending Mr. Bubbles ahead of her and making the fluffy cat hiss loudly. Barry jumped back despite himself. \u201cYes\u2014now we have come to the heart of the matter, Mr. James. Multiple choice questions! You cheated on the Federal Assessment and Review Test!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Barry stood, defiant now. \u201cI didn\u2019t cheat. My eyes were on my own paper the whole time! I didn\u2019t look at anyone else\u2019s FART!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Dr. Feld leaned back and soothed Mr. Bubbles. \u201cYes, by the time you sat down with your number 2 pencil, you\u2019d already done the cheating, hadn\u2019t you? You cheated a month earlier\u2014on a highway at midnight ten miles from here!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Barry slammed back down into his chair, suddenly feeling defeated.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*  *  *<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The armored truck slammed over a pothole and Barry felt as if he was about to slide off the roof. Fortunately, the suction cups on his black airbag held.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            With a sudden hiss, the laser device stopped its buzzing, and Barry saw Quentin remove it from the metal roof and stash it in his backpack. A small hole had been burned into the truck\u2019s armor. Quentin nodded toward him. It was Barry\u2019s turn. Barry disengaged the suction cups and let himself slide across the roof toward the freshly minted hole. The truck sped up, and Barry suddenly found himself sliding too quickly, heading toward the edge of the roof. He saw the line of trucks, the armored convoy of test-mobiles, behind them, and knew that if the fall to the road didn\u2019t kill him, one of those vehicles\u2019 massive tired would.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            His hands grasped for something to hold on to, but the roof was as smooth as a Teflon skillet. As he neared the edge, he suddenly saw Quentin hurling himself across the roof toward him. They were both about to go over the edge. Quentin grabbed his hand, and they suddenly halted with Barry dangling over the edge. How had they stopped?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            He glanced up questioningly at Quentin, who pointed down at his suction cups. He\u2019d reengaged them at the last possible second.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            There was no time to waste. Barry scrambled to the roof, slid over to the hole, and reengaged his own suction. He then reached to his belt and pulled out another black device, this one a small rectangle of plastic. He took the device, and carefully lowered it down the opening in the armor, careful not to singe himself on the still-steaming metal. Once he felt it settle on top of a cardboard box, he hit another small switch with his finger, as they had rehearsed, and the rectangle opened wider\u2014to approximately eight and a half by eleven inches. He hit another switch and a blinding light shone from the metal aperture.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            The device was doing its work. The blinding light was penetrating the cardboard box, scanning the top page of the top booklet within. And when it finished with that page, the light would increase incrementally to scan the print on the reverse of the same page, and so on down. It would check to see that there were no missing or upside down pages, but it would not stop on the pages with a stop sign symbol as directed. It would keep on scanning until it had the whole booklet converted into digital data.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            And Barry would take that data home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            A sudden sharp crack sounded behind him, and Barry heard a ping against the metal of the roof. He and Quentin both turned to look at the convoy behind them. Dark figures had appeared outside the cab of the truck behind them. They were aiming their rifles at them. Another sharp crack made Barry wince.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*  *  *<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The sharp crack of a book being slammed against the principal\u2019s desk made Barry wince. \u201cPAY ATTENTION!\u201d Dr. Feld barked, sliding the Webster\u2019s Unabridged Dictionary back down into a drawer. \u201cWe know you cheated. We have you on video from that night. We see everything!\u201d She gestured toward the security camera feeds. \u201cWe see everything!\u201d She leaned in close with Mr. Bubbles. \u201cMr. Bubbles wonders\u2014how did this plot of yours start? Who gave you the idea to cheat on such a grand scale?\u201d Mr. Bubbles was suddenly right in his face, nose to nose, and if Barry didn\u2019t know any better, he\u2019d swear he heard it growl.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*  *  *<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It had all started in Mrs. Bruce\u2019s class, actually, on a day just before Winter Break, when she was discussing what they would be doing in class when they returned in the new year after break.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cWhen we come back, you all need to buckle down. We will be getting ready for the Federal Assessment and Review Test, which will be in March. You have never taken this test before, but it\u2019s very, very important for third graders. I don\u2019t want to scare you or pressure you, but if you don\u2019t pass the Reading portion of the test, you won\u2019t be able to pass third grade. You\u2019ll be here again, while all your friends leave you behind. But don\u2019t stress out! No pressure! Just don\u2019t fail!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Barry glanced across the tables in his group and caught Quentin\u2019s eye. He could tell they were both thinking the same thing. Quentin would pass; Barry would fail, and they would be separated for the rest of their school careers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            No more working on outrageously complicated history projects, like the detailed Egyptian Pyramid made to scale out of sugar cubes. No more incredible Science fair projects, like the simulated black hole built from an old vacuum cleaner and crepe paper. No more creating math problems more complicated than the ones in the textbook and stumping the teacher. It would all be over. Barry saw their friendship flash before his eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Because Quentin was a good reader and a good test taker. Barry had trouble reading, so he avoided it. And he wasn\u2019t a good test taker, except maybe at Math. But the Reading FART would doom him. He could see himself sitting in third grade when he turned 18, his arms dangling to the floor as he sat in his tiny little blue plastic chair. Dr. Feld would finally come in and tell him he had to drop out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            When recess time came around, they had gone out to the swings and pumped their legs until they were flying higher and higher, as if to put themselves above everything. They spoke in short bursts and snatches of words as they passed each other, flying to and fro on their adjacent swings.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cThis stinks! I\u2019ll never\u2026\u201d said Barry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201c\u2026pass!\u201d finished Quentin as they drew near each other.\u201dWe won\u2019t be in the same grade together again! I\u2019ll graduate\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201c\u2026a whole year earlier than I will.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            The two boys swept past each other, back and forth, Barry\u2019s pale skin and black hair coming forward, and then receding as Quentin\u2019s red hair and freckles came forward.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe need to find a way to make you pass!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cMaybe we should ask\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201c\u2026the teacher! Yeah, Mrs. Bruce. She could tell you how\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201c\u2026to pass the test!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            But when they asked Mrs. Bruce, all she said was, \u201cPay attention in class and try harder!\u201d Not helpful at all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That night, Barry slept over at Quentin\u2019s house. Together they discussed the situation far into the night in a tent set up in Quentin\u2019s bedroom.  It would take a miracle to get Barry to pass the test, they decided.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cActually, I think there might be a few miracles in my dad\u2019s basement,\u201d said Quentin. \u201cI think he\u2019d let me borrow them\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Barry\u2019s dad sold vacuum cleaners at Sears, a less than thrilling profession. But everyone thought that Quentin\u2019s dad was even duller: he sold toilet flappers. But what everyone thought was wrong, it turned out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was a quarter past two in the morning when Barry and Quentin reached the bottom of the basement stairs. Barry realized he had never been into Quentin\u2019s basement. As he watched his friend punch a complicated password into a keypad by a metal door, he realized why.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The door hissed open, not wide like a regular door, but to the side like a door on Star Trek, and they entered a dark room full of metal cabinets, metal tables, large screen computers, and blinking colored console lights.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLights up,\u201d said Quentin. The lights came up to reveal a room that Thomas Edison would have envied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI thought your dad sold toilet flappers!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cWell, he invented the world\u2019s best<\/em> toilet flapper, and that patent drew the attention of the government. Now he invents\u2026 other things for them.\u201d Quentin pointed to a plaque on the main desk that read Quinn Cue, Inventor of Non-Lethal Weapons and Surveillance Hardware.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cAre you really supposed to be in here? Am I <\/em>really supposed to be in here?\u201d asked Barry, backing towards the door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cI\u2019m in here all the time, just usually with Dad. Hey, look at this\u2014it\u2019s an underwater Taser.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cBut how can this stuff help me pass the FART?\u201d asked Barry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cAnd look at this thing\u2014it can turn individually packed snack packs of pudding into mini stink bombs.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cWould you focus?\u201d Barry pleaded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cOkay fine. Here\u2019s how this stuff will help you pass. We use it to get our hands on a copy of the test.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*  *  *<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Barry told Dr. Feld about his fear of being separated from his best friend, but not about his best friend\u2019s father\u2019s inventions. That aspect of the tale needed to remain a secret. \u201cI don\u2019t know what you\u2019re talking about, Dr. Feld. I didn\u2019t cheat. I\u2019ll admit I didn\u2019t want to fail\u2014and that I didn\u2019t want to get separated from Quentin for the rest of my school years\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Dr. Feld raised an eyebrow at him from across the desk. \u201cA very touching story. But you should have thought about the possibility of being held back before you decided to be lazy and stupid.\u201d She scratched Mr. Bubbles behind the ears. \u201cShouldn\u2019t he, my little fuzzy-wuzzy?\u201d She looked back at Barry and flipped through her data notebook. \u201cI mean look at this, pages and pages of data, numbers that practically spell out the words, \u2018Barry James is stupid and lazy!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Quentin finally spoke up, his indignation overcoming his timidity. \u201cHe isn\u2019t lazy, or stupid! Do you realize the research we had to do?\u201d He stood up, nearly leaning across the desk at his principal. Then his skin went pale, throwing his freckles into stark relief, as he realized that he had just spilled the beans.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cAh, ha!\u201d shouted Dr. Feld triumphantly. \u201cYou admit your guilt! You are now officially implicated as well, Mr. Cue. You are no longer merely a person of interest.\u201d She realized she\u2019d held her arms aloft in a gesture of victory for a moment, thus ruining the illusion that Mr. Bubbles was a real cat. She sat back down, adjusting the puppet into its feline-like pose again. \u201cMr. Bubbles is very happy that we\u2019re getting to the truth! Aren\u2019t you Mr. Bubbles?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            And she was indeed getting closer to the truth, Barry realized.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*  *  *<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It had been a ton of research. Using Mr. Cue\u2019s research lab, they had tapped into secret databases and hidden records of the CIA, FBI, NSA, and the Department of Education. They read document after official document. There were too many for Quentin to cover on his own, so Barry had, of necessity, waded into the ocean of digital text, layers and layers of densely worded education-ese and government double speak. They discovered the location in Texas where the FART was produced, and then, bit by bit, they had learned how the tests were transported by armored and armed-guarded transport from Texas to the other states where it was administered. Millions were being spent to transport hundreds of thousands of pounds of test booklets across state lines. Eventually, they discovered the specific type of armored vehicle and the route it would take to get to their state\u2014a route that would send it right past their town.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            They researched Mr. Cue\u2019s devices, discovering which ones might be useful and which ones to reject. When it came time to plan the actual heist, Quentin felt that Barry wasn\u2019t quite \u201cgetting\u201d how a mission was supposed to run, so he handed him spy novels: Ian Fleming, John le Carr\u00e9, Ken Follett, Robert Ludlum. At first, Barry found them too hard, but with a little coaching from Quentin, he began to pore through them. Once he got the idea, he proved to be an expert planner, and soon their mission plans had begun to coalesce.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*  *  *<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cIt\u2019s all coming together, now, isn\u2019t it Mr. Bubbles?\u201d Dr. Feld gloated. \u201cQuentin Cue has as much as admitted the deed!\u201d She looked from Quentin over to Barry. \u201cWould you like to confess as well?\u201d She paused, but Barry remained silent. \u201cNo matter. You are in trouble now, no matter what. You are in the biggest trouble of your life!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Not on your life!  thought Barry. We were in more trouble that night!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*  *  *<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As the bullets flew around them, they tried to crawl further up the roof of the truck to get away from the gunmen. But they couldn\u2019t move fast enough; there was nothing to grip on the smooth surface, and it was too risky to deactivate their suction cups anyway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cExecute Manuever PD-5!\u201d Quentin\u2019s voice yelled through the speaker in Barry\u2019s ear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Barry thought for just a moment, then remembered what the code meant. He reached back into his backpack and pulled out a gun of his own\u2014a modified Super-Soaker squirt gun. He managed to swing around and faced the truck behind them. He aimed carefully, using the digital targeting on his goggles, and fired. A glob of green slime flew from his weapon, flew downwards and hit the muzzle of one of the guard\u2019s rifles. The guard seemed not to notice, but when he tried to fire again, nothing happened. Barry watched him as pulled the rifle up and looked at the muzzle. He tried to pull the gunk off, but only succeeded in getting his hand stuck to it. The guard behind him raised his rifle, only to receive his own dose of gunk from Quentin\u2019s squirt gun.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Within minutes the guards were nearly all neutralized. The two boys high fived each other, and stashed their nearly spent non-lethal weapons back in their packs. At that moment, a beeping sounded in Barry\u2019s ear. The scanner device was done. He swiveled around, reached down the hole in the roof, and retrieved the device which now held his scanned version of the FART.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            He felt elated, sure of their victory\u2014until he saw a black gloved hand rise over the edge of the truck roof and slam down on the metal surface with a magnetically charged glove. The guards had come to them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*  *  *<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo let\u2019s bring this all home, shall we?\u201d Dr. Feld said, leaning back in her chair. \u201cWe caught your face on security video, on the roof of the armored test-mobile, Mr. James. Your collaborator, here, Mr. Cue, was fortunate enough to evade our cameras, but confessed to the crime. And your test scores speak for themselves. What do you have to say for yourself?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cWhat do you mean, my test scores speak for themselves? My test scores stink because I\u2019m stupid\u2014and I didn\u2019t cheat!\u201d Barry knew he wasn\u2019t lying. He really hadn\u2019t cheated.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*  *  *<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cExtraction point!\u201d Quentin yelled as two more guards managed to climb onto the roof.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Barry turned and looked. Ahead of them, a pedestrian footbridge spanned the road. \u201cOn my count!\u201d he yelled. \u201cOne!\u201d They disengaged suction and flipped onto their backs. \u201cTwo!\u201d They pulled grappling hooks with tethers off their belts and aimed them at the top of the cyclone safety fencing. \u201cThree!\u201d They fired the hooks, which latched onto the top of the fence. A guard reached out with his magnetic glove and gripped Barry\u2019s backpack. Barry felt himself being pulled backward. He saw Quentin make a motion,  shining a flashlight in the guard\u2019s night vision goggles, blinding him. He screamed and let go of the pack. Barry and Quentin hit buttons on their belts and flew upwards toward the bridge. Once they were on the fence, they quickly climbed over the top and only glanced down briefly at the rest of the armored convoy rumbling past. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

            A quick jaunt down the pedestrian trail, a brief stop to grab their lunch boxes out of the trees, and they were back to Quentin\u2019s house. They snuck in the back door, careful not to wake Mr. Cue and Mrs. Cue, and went up to their tent, in Quentin\u2019s room, where an MP3 file of their endless chatter was playing on a loop to make the room sound occupied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            They uploaded the file to Barry\u2019s laptop and opened it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            It was blank.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cThe magnetic gloves,\u201d said Quentin, crestfallen. \u201cThey erased the data.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*  *  *<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe have all the data we need to expel you, to bring you up on criminal charges, to sue your family for everything they\u2019re worth!\u201d said Dr. Feld, sitting back in her black leather chair with a self-satisfied leer. \u201cYour face on the video. Your friend\u2019s confession. Your test score.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Barry found himself shaking his head in bafflement. \u201cWhat about my test score? It must have been a \u20181\u2019 or \u20182\u2019 because I didn\u2019t cheat!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cNo, Mr. James. It was not a \u20181\u2019 or \u20182\u2019 or even a \u20183.\u2019 It was a \u20185,\u2019 very nearly a perfect score. Very nearly as perfect as your friend\u2019s.\u201d She nodded at Quentin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Barry sat back in his chair, his head spinning. How can this be? I didn\u2019t cheat! I just sat and took the test. How did I suddenly get smart?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Dr. Feld gestured to the door, and the man in the black suit stepped forward. \u201cThis is Mr. Goldfinger, a representative of the testing company, SPECTRE. He will be serving your parents with legal papers that will hold you accountable for the loss of test reliability and damage to the armored truck and to the weapons you ruined in your elaborate scheme to cheat the test.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Barry slumped downward in his seat, and he saw Quentin do the same. It was all over for them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cYou will both be sent to Underage Delinquent Charter School to be reformed. You, Mr. James, will of course be kept in 3rd grade because you cheated on the test.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Barry leaned forward, put his hands over his face. He wasn\u2019t going to let this woman see him cry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cMr. Bubbles thinks this is all too delicious, don\u2019t you Mr. Bubbles?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Barry wanted to strangle Mr. Bubbles, even though he was just a puppet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            At that moment, the door swung open, and they heard the secretary saying, \u201cYou\u2019re not allowed to go in there, sir, this is a private meeting!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cAnd one my son is in! I\u2019m attending this meeting, thank you very much!\u201d came a British-accented voice. Barry turned and saw a tall, red-haired, mustached figure in a pin-striped suit towering in the doorway. \u201cHello, son,\u201d he said to Quentin. \u201cHello, Barry. Sorry I\u2019m late.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Dr. Feld stood in her seat. \u201cMr. Bubbles is very unhappy at this intrusion!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cStop telling everyone on this campus about the feelings of a ridiculous stuffed animal. It\u2019s the most asinine thing I\u2019ve ever seen! Mr. Cue, who happens to be me,\u201d he said, speaking in third person, \u201cis very unhappy about not being invited to this meeting.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Dr. Felt sat down, glaring at Mr. Cue venomously.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cI understand you have a confession from my son and a video of Barry from the night the armored test mobile was assaulted?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Now Dr. Feld smiled. \u201cYes, indeed, Mr. Cue. We do.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Mr. Cue stood behind his son. \u201cCould you tell me exactly what my son said?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cWhy, I believe I have it recorded, right here!\u201d said Dr. Feld, pressing a button on a console in her top desk drawer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

           All the video screens turned to one image: an image of the office they were in some ten minutes earlier. From the perspective of a camera up in the corner of the room, Quentin could be seen saying, \u201cHe isn\u2019t lazy, or stupid! Do you realize the research we had to do?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cYou see?\u201d Dr. Feld asked triumphantly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cI see that my son defended his best friend from being called lazy and stupid by his principal, and then admitting to doing research. Is research illegal at this school, Dr. Feld?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cWell, no\u2026 but\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cThen I see no admission of guilt. As to the video, you say that it shows the face of the person involved in the theft of the test booklet?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cIt does!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cBut it wasn\u2019t an unretouched photo, was it? You had to sharpen it, to optimize it, to make it look like Barry, didn\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cWell, yes\u2026 But it\u2019s a very valid investigative technique. I\u2019ll show you!\u201d Dr. Feld hit another button, and the video screens all went to an image of the top of an armored vehicle. It was in extremely grainy black and white.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            As the image came into focus, Mr. Cue casually commented, \u201cYes, but depending on who\u2019s using this investigative technique, you get very different results\u2026 This is the image, taken the night of the heist, from a camera mounted on a guard\u2019s helmet. I took the liberty of visiting your server, accessing your database, and sharpening and optimizing the image myself, and I got a very different result. Now, if you\u2019ll zoom in, Dr. Feld.\u201d  The picture on the screens narrowed in on the frozen image of a black suited figure firing a large squirt gun toward the camera. \u201cIn my enhanced version, we see\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Dr. Feld grinned as she clicked on the remote. \u201c\u2026 and we see that the culprit was Mr. Ja\u2026What? It can\u2019t be!!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            The face in the photo was round, pale\u2026 and female. It was Dr. Feld\u2019s face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI see how you\u2019ve been getting your high scores at this school, Dr. Feld. It isn\u2019t difficult when you\u2019ve pilfered the test.\u201dDr. Cue smiled pleasantly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cNo\u2014that can\u2019t be! I wasn\u2019t there!\u201d Dr. Feld drew Mr. Bubbles closer to her, her eyes darting in every direction.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cWell, my photo was no more optimized than yours, Dr. Feld. Once you start manipulating data, you find you\u2019re on a very slippery slope.\u201d Mr. Cue pulled out his smartphone. “Shall I send my version to the local and national media outlets to see if they\u2019d be interested in adding it to the 24 hour news-cycle, along with the security camera clip of you calling one of your students stupid and lazy?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cNO!\u201d she screamed, picking up her huge data notebook and hurling it toward the largest of the TV screens, which exploded in a shower of sparks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Mr. Cue pulled Barry and Quentin from their chairs and toward the door, away from the sparking monitor. \u201cMy, my! We must learn to watch our temper, Dr. Feld. By the way,  you have no evidence that Barry cheated on the test\u2014your in-class security cameras prove that his eyes were on his own test the entire time. He passed fair and square, and will be moving on to fourth grade.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Dr. Feld turned pale\u2014or, rather, paler\u2014with rage. She flung Mr. Bubbles across the room and picked up her black leather chair and hurled it toward the data screens. The chair crashed into the screens, which cracked and crashed to the floor in a shower of sparks. One of the monitors crashed down on the stuffed puppet cat, crushing it and catching its fur on fire. \u201cNO!\u201d Dr. Feld crawled across the floor to try to rescue the faux cat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cShocking, positively shocking!\u201d said Mr. Cue.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Mr. Cue turned to leave, to find Mr. Goldfinger blocking his way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cWe know your son and his friend were the culprits. We will find a way to prove it. We will have damages!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mr. Cue never flinched. \u201cYou move one finger in that direction, and I\u2019ll have footage of your men shooting at eight year old boys all over the news so fast it\u2019ll make your heads spin.\u201d He flung the door open and led Barry and Quentin out through the office, past the evil glare of Mrs. Klebb. Behind them they heard the sound of all the remaining monitors in the principal\u2019s office shattering, and Dr. Feld shrieking her defeat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mr. Cue led them out into the sunlight again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThanks, Dad!\u201d said Quentin. \u201cYou were awesome!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mr. Cue pulled them both in front of him, and looked at them intensely, his lips pale. \u201cIf I was awesome, my son wouldn\u2019t have gone behind my back to help his friend cheat! If I was awesome, my very intelligent son would have had the common sense to know he was putting my job, not to mention two lives, at risk. I am appalled!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Quentin\u2019s lip trembled; tears built up around the edges of his eyes. \u201cI\u2019m really sorry, Dad.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A long moment passed. Barry wanted to melt into the sidewalk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But then Mr. Cue said, \u201cBut my inventions all worked, didn\u2019t they?\u201d A crooked smile spread across his face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Quentin sniffled and grinned, wiping his nose on his sleeve. \u201cThey worked great, Dad!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Barry heaved a sigh of relief. The tension past, he voiced the question that had been bothering him since they were in Dr. Feld\u2019s office. \u201cHow did I pass that test\u2014I mean I got an almost perfect score. I\u2019m terrible at test taking!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cTell me how you pulled off that mission of yours, boys.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cWell, we did a lot of research,\u201d said Quentin, \u201cand a ton of reading.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cAnd I read loads of spy novels,\u201d said Barry. \u201cThey were great! And then we had to write out plans out, and create drawings and diagrams, and\u2026 and\u2026 Oh. I think I figured out how I got smarter.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cClever boy. If only the schools would realize what makes for a first rate brain,\u201d said Mr. Cue.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cWell,\u201d replied Barry, \u201cif they want first rate brains, maybe they should stop settling for number two pencils!\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

And now for something a little different for this blog: some fiction. A colleague recently mentioned how Florida’s test, the FCAT, is transported from Texas to Florida in a fleet of armored trucks protected by armed guards. I said, “What do they expect, third graders with Uzis to try to steal the test enroute?” And then I Read More >><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[2,78,13,8],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrfitz.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/175"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrfitz.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrfitz.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrfitz.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrfitz.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=175"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/mrfitz.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/175\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":176,"href":"https:\/\/mrfitz.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/175\/revisions\/176"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrfitz.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=175"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrfitz.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=175"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrfitz.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=175"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}