The Building is the best place in the world to live. We are a beacon of safety and culture. Every child's education and every worker's contribution is valued. We have fairly elected leaders who are beholden to no one but the people they govern, and all of us have an equal chance to become one of those leaders. 

We live in the Building because we deserve it. Why else would we have so much when the people Outside have nothing? But not everyone deserves to live in the Building. They show us videos from the Town, sometimes. It's so different from the Building that it's hard to believe the Building is right in the middle of it. There's so much violence, so much strife. Mobs in the streets, gunfire, and boarded up windows. That would never happen in the Building. We are civilized here. 

Patricia Edmondsen. 

They're calling someone's name. She stands up from her seat across from me in the waiting room and takes off her thick coat, laying it across the back of her chair. It's so strange that she's wearing a coat like that... they take great care to keep the Building at a comfortable temperature regardless of the season. 

I watch as she approaches the front of the room to begin her Evaluation. It's been three years since the Council voted to do our biannual Evaluations in public, and I agree with the ruling. Our government is perfect, pure, because it is made to serve us- perfect, pure people. They're only proving that they have nothing to hide. 

"Are you happy with your life in the Building?" the Evaluator asks, typing out notes on his tablet. 

"Of course," Patricia responds with a nervous smile. I don't understand why she's nervous. The Evaluations are only a formality. We are people of the Building. We deserve to live here. There is no reason for us to fear a system designed to keep us safe from the savages Outside. 

"I love the Building. All my neighbors, all my friends," she looks shakily at the crowd in front of her. A few people around me return her smile, but I do not. This Evaluation is about her, not me. "I love my job, and my family. My wonderful husband, a selfless Council member who's dedicated his life to the Building." 

In a lesser society, Patricia's relation to a member of the Council might exempt her from a rigorous Evaluation. But not in the Building. In the Building, our leaders are public servants, not rulers. In the Building, all are equal. 

"Loyalty and reasoning portion passed," the Evaluator nods. "Begin the physical Evaluation," he instructs his assistants. They pull out tablets of their own and retrieve her fitness data, assuring that her running, lifting, and swimming abilities meet the minimum standard for her sex and age group. These standards are very low- very fair. Anyone should be able to meet them. They only exist to ensure that people don't get lazy and greedy- the Building is a prosperous society, after all, and such societies are easy to take advantage of. 

I watch as Patricia steps onto a glass weighing scale, and the Evaluator looks down at the number displayed, writing it down in his notes. This is the only piece of data from the Evaluation that is not made public. After all, the Building is a progressive and considerate society. We do not shame our members for their physical appearance. 

As he fills in Patricia's weight, the Evaluator's screen turns bright red. Soft gasps echo through the crowd as he turns to face Patricia, speaking solemnly. 

"I'm afraid your height-to-weight ratio is out of the acceptable range for a female of your age. You have failed your physical Evaluation. I understand you are aware of the consequences of this." 

"Yes, I am," she sighs softly, as if she had been expecting this. "Can I... can I just get a few hours to say goodbye to my family?"

And the Evaluator says yes. Of course he does. We're not barbarians.