Luke forced himself to turn and look at the other boy.

"Yeah?" Luke said. Did this kid actually think Luke would want to be friendly with someone who'd stolen his bread?

"Yeah," the boy said. "So it was stupid that they had me polishing shoes at Population Police headquarters."

He said this softly, as if he didn't want the officer and the driver in the front to hear.

Luke shrugged.

"What did you expect?"

The boy got a dreamy look on his face that softened all his features.

"Food," he said. "I just wanted to eat. To have a full stomach for once in my life. Isn't that why everyone joined up?"

Luke shrugged again, and went back to staring out at the dead landscape. He knew that the Population Police had control of the entire country's food supply; he knew that every family had to have someone working for the Population Police or they'd get no food. But he still felt like yelling at the boy, The Population Police kill children, don't you know that? Do you even care? Is your full stomach worth other kids' lives?

Luke and the other boy were silent for the rest of the drive. The men in the front seat didn't seem to be talking to each other either, but Officer Houk kept holding the radio to his mouth and muttering, "Seeking report on identification process in Searcy," or, "What's the progress in Ryana?" Luke wondered vaguely if he was in charge of other units as well, or if he was just nosy.

Then the ruts and potholes in the road grew so huge that Officer Houk put his radio down and concentrated on telling the driver which way to go: "Ease it out gradually— oof! That just caught the right rear tire. You don't think the axle's bent, do you?" Twice Luke and the other boy had to get out and push. Luke thought he heard the other boy muttering, "Stupid, stupid, stupid. This is no way to treat a motor vehicle." But Luke made no attempt to catch the boy's eye or to exchange "at least we're in this together" shrugs.