Finally he reached an empty table and sat down.

A bowl of leaves and what looked like germinating soybeans sat in front of him. Was this supposed to be food? The other boys were eating it, so he did, too. The leaves were clammy and bitter and stuck in his throat.

Luke let himself think about potato chips. Nobody was supposed to have junk food, because of the food shortages that led to the Population Law. But Jen had given him potato chips when he’d gone over to her house, secretly, at great risk. He could still taste the salt, could still feel the crisp chips against the roof of his mouth, could still hear.

Jen saying, when he protested that potato chips were illegal, “Yeah, well, we’re illegal, too, so why don’t we enjoy ourselves?”

Jen. If Jen were here now, she wouldn’t put up with bitter leaves and tasteless bean sprouts for supper. She’d be standing up, demanding decent food. She’d go to any table she wanted. She’d march up to the person in charge — the headmaster? — and say, “Why won’t anyone tell me what classes to go to? What are demerits? What are the rules, anyway? You’re not running this school very well!” She’d punch Rolly right in the eye.

But Jen wasn’t there. Jen was dead.

Luke bent his head low over his food. He stopped even pretending to chew and swallow.

After supper everyone was herded into another vast room. A man stood at the front talking about how glorious the Government was, about how their leaders’ wisdom had kept them all from starving.

Lies, Luke thought, and marveled that he had the will even to think that.

Finally another bell rang and the other boys scattered. Luke walked uncertainly up and down strange halls.

“To your room,” a man warned him. “Lights out in ten minutes.”

Luke was so eager to get to his room, he actually found his voice.

“I–I’m new. I don’t know where my room is.”