It had been one of their riskiest plans. At Population Police headquarters, Luke and his friends had heard rumors that the leaders were collecting identity cards for some big test, to sort out legal citizens and illegal third children once and for all.

"They're all in one spot," Nina had whispered in Luke's ear once when she'd brought food out to the stable. Nina worked in the headquarters kitchen; she was the only one of his friends that Luke ever saw. That day he'd blinked stupidly at her, not quite understanding until she hissed, "We can destroy them."

Then Luke had wanted to ask, How? and What good would that do? and What if it's all a trap? and What makes you think we have any prayer of succeeding? But Nina had stepped back quickly, gathering up serving trays, so he'd had no time to say anything after she told him what to do.

Luke's assignment had been to place a particularly pungent glob of horse manure in the middle of a path, in order to delay an officer who was rushing to repair a security fence. Luke had taken the manure from Jenny's stall; he'd arranged it carefully to look fresh and accidental and unplanned. After that he'd heard nothing more about I.D/s, nothing more about the plan.

He thought it must have failed. Failed, like every other plan.

But if they're issuing new I.D.'s to everyone in the country, maybe the old ones really were destroyed. Maybe. .

Maybe it didn't matter. And even if it did, how could Luke take any pride in the plan's success when all he had done was arrange horse manure?

Luke shivered in the bitter wind pushing its way into the jeep. The bleak countryside flashed past him: leafless trees and lifeless fields.

"My dad had a mechanic's shop, back home," the other boy said suddenly. "I'm good with cars."