Among the Enemy

Chapter Thirty-Two

Matthias lay on his bed, his face buried in his pillow, I his headphones dangling around his neck. Ever since he'd talked to Nina, he'd been having trouble listen^ ing to what was going on in the commander's office. Every stray thump might be someone coming in, ready to report on a spy ring in their midst. Or the commander slamming a door, ready to confront Matthias about the bug he found under his desk. Or—

"Stop it," Matthias said aloud. Then he remembered the bug in his own room. "Stop, um, crying over Tiddy," he added, just in case someone was listening. "You're acting like a little boy."

I am acting like a little boy, Matthias thought. Hiding my head under my pillow, pretending all the bad news will go away if I don't hear it. .

Resolutely, he jerked the headphones back over his ears.

"— grand ceremony?" someone was saying.

"Of course it has to be grand!" This was the commander's voice, roaring out so fiercely that Matthias winced. "We have to make the people remember this forever. All that food is theirs because we, the Population Police, got rid of all the illegals. The people must love us and hate the enemy."

"Okay. So the president will announce the successful completion of Project Authenticity, blah, blah, blah…."

"What kind of speechwriter are you—'blah, blah, blah'?"

"Hey, it'll sound good when he says it. Do you want him to read the names of everyone you dispose of? That kind of thing is always so dramatic."

Dispose of? Matthias thought, shivering. They made it sound like they were just taking out the trash. He couldn't understand their jaunty tones, their high spirits. They were talking about killing people.

Samuel? Matthias wanted to ask his old friend. Why didn't you tell me that evil could be so lighthearted?

Somehow that made it even more frightening.

“We have some issues to consider if he reads the names,” the commander said, and he at least sounded serious. “Do we read the traitor’s names, too?”

"Sure, why not? The more the merrier."

Matthias fought to hold in a gasp.

Someone cleared his throat, and Matthias had the feeling that it was the commander.

"It may seem that we are governing sheep who will believe and obey anything we tell them," the commander said. "But may I remind you that as recently as two months ago, one of those 'sheep' passed a poisoned I.D. card to one of our best officers."

The mention of Tiddy's death seemed to silence the more jovial Population Police officers. The commander continued.

"Even our most gullible subject will have trouble believing that — let's see" — the commander ruffled some papers and seemed to be reading aloud—"that 'Reginald Henry, age thirty-five' is an illegal third child."

Matthias didn't know how long the Population Law had been in effect, but he was pretty sure the oldest illegal third children were still teenagers. What was the commander talking about?

"Then we just won't announce the traitors' names," someone said carelessly. Matthias thought it might be the speechwriter again. "Or announce them separately from Project Authenticity."

"It's just so convenient to have everything under the Project Authenticity umbrella," the commander mused. "You have a fake I.D., you're the enemy, you die."

"Or you have a legitimate I.D., but we say the authenticity test came up negative," someone else said with a chuckle. "Because you're just not one of our best friends."

"All our enemies gone in one fell swoop," the commander said dreamily.

"And the people rewarded with a grand ceremony."

'A festival!"

"A feast!"

Matthias realized he'd clapped his hands over his ears. He barely stopped himself from ripping his headphones off and throwing them across the room. He thought he understood the Population Police plan now. They were going to use Project Authenticity as an excuse to weed out all their enemies: all the third children, all the people who were working undercover with fake I.D.'s, all the people who had ever opposed the Population Police. And then, when all the opposition was dead, the Population Police would bring out the food from the warehouse. And the ordinary people would think they were getting it because the bad guys were gone.

That was why the food and the I.D.'s were stored together.

"Evil," Matthias muttered. "Evil, evil, evil."

He understood now how happy Samuel must have felt to finally stand up, right in front of the Population Police, and shout out, "What you are doing is wrong!" What a relief that must have been, even though it had led to his death.

Matthias wanted to storm into the commander's office right now and shout out, You're evil! It wouldn't do any good, but they were going to kill him anyway, as soon as they found out he wasn't really Roger Symmes.

Why not go out shouting? Matthias thought.

Because Nina was downstairs in the kitchen waiting for Matthias's reports on the commander's conversations.

Because Matthias coming clean might also endanger Nina and Trey and the mysterious "others."

Because there was still a chance…

Matthias felt like he'd been in danger of plunging over some huge cliff and had just barely managed to step back from the edge. He forced himself to listen to the headphones again. He'd missed hearing what the decision was about reading the traitors' names. The officers seemed to be wrapping up their meeting.

"So the ceremony will be next Friday," the speechwriter was saying. "I'll have the president's speech ready."

'And I think the Power Commission will be able to work a little miracle of its own — we'll have all the elec-tricity back in service by then, so the entire country will be able to see the ceremony on TV," someone else said.

"Perfect," the commander said. "Food distribution will begin Friday night."

If only all the TVs worked before next Friday, Matthias thought. If only we could use them to get the word out about the food before they start running Project Authenticity. If only we could tell the whole country the truth about what's going on. If only we could warn all the third children, all the rebels. If only we could just hand out all that food now…

Matthias bolted upright on his bed, jerking up so quickly that he yanked the headphone cord out of the tape recorder. He didn't know how to accomplish all of those "if only's."

But one of them just might be possible.