Priest stood facing the large window, his back turned. Thirty minutes they stayed in that room talking; thirty minutes of silence and shame.

Maddie wasn't sure if the longer they waited would mean the angrier he might become.

"I should have told you. I should have told you ages ago. I...I don't know why I didn't. I guess I kept wishing it wasn't true." Maddie watched the black of the suit which covered her hands. "And then when you got in motion, making plans and a fuss, I...."

Nothing.

Doing it privately like this was risky.

A small chair by the window creaked when Priest sat, still eyeing the city.

"Doctors said I have the tumors. I've been taking my A-CANs since I became a Volunteer. Never missed a dose. But I got the tumors, anyway. Maybe I shoulda sprung for better anti-cancer supplements. I always thought that. But found out about them because I went to get tested before asking you to try with me." He took a long pause and shrugged. "...Said the sperm count was low—might never manage it. So I did you wrong, too, by asking you. Just figured I'd try. Hell, wasn't supposed to make it to the sixes but I did. Guess I figured I could manage this, too. Could fight the tumors—everything."

He looked down at his boots.

"Why'd I choose you?" Priest glanced at her, finally. "Because you obey every rule. You don't even question where you go or what you do. Not even once. That mutt fell off a cliff; you fell right with him. And do you know, I knew, I knew you'd find a way back. I admire you, Maddie." He looked out the window again. "And I kinda figured maybe it wasn't mine but...I trust you so bad that I made myself believe that somehow it was."

He had nothing more to say after that and Maddie didn't, either. She didn't know what to do about this baby. Before Ray's careless words, it was a nuisance. But now...now she saw it as Daniel's final gift to her. Priest was right; Maddie didn't deviate. She wouldn't have abandoned Priest if they'd tried and failed. She would have kept on, not realizing that the man could not make a child.

"If you want to try another clinic, maybe one in the Outer Limits, we can try there. I won't pressure you."

Maddie considered his words before finally saying, "You have a right to know whose it is."

"No rights. It's not my seed." He looked back at her. "If you think it'll improve our situation then tell me."

It certainly wouldn't.

A knock came from the door. The second and third meant Ray was behind it. She wouldn't wait long. Sure enough, she pushed through the double doors.

"Well looky here. Ain't this so fancy? Running water in the faucets, too. Didya see? Not just the delousing mist for showers, neither. Woow. Never thought I'd see the day. And did you see this? Sweet air packs. The good kind."

When Maddie regarded her friend, she froze.

Ray beamed, arms extended. "And guess who got a frock. What'da think?"

Maybe a black dress would have blended better with the black body-suit uniform. As it stood, the white was a big contrast. The helmet was understandable but in poor taste.

Priest was back to his chipper self as he got to his feet. "You said sweet air? Where?"

Ray pointed. "All over. Make sure and put them in your bags, I want some later." They went about collecting their spoils. "And I'm keeping the dress," Ray said.

Seeing them bicker and joke was nice but this hotel room was far too expensive for any Volunteer to afford. The next knock at the door had Ray and Priest frozen, green and pink filter packets in their arms.

Ray cursed under her breath and hurried to shove said packs into one of Maddie's bags.

Instead of protesting, Maddie sighed. "Come in."

The brunette's name was Antoinette. Cyble Antoinette. The woman treated them with so much joy and cheer that it bordered psychosis.

"Oh you poor things. How are you?"

Maddie got to her feet. Priest stood at attention, Ray lingered between them, her arms folded.

"We don't get many Volunteers, anymore," Cyble said, turning to walk out. She motioned for them to follow. "Been requesting, though. So lucky we encountered you. You will be a great fixture for the cause. Five hundred and six hundred blocks, correct? Part of the hardest working areas? Well that's perfect. And I've verified your identities so everything can go off without a hook. We go live in twenty minutes so make sure and go to the loos now as there won't be any time later."

They came to two metal doors and Cyble turned to them. Whatever she saw, she looked between Ray and Maddie, then Priest.

"You two make such a lovely couple. And you've even brought along.... Your donor?"

Priest's right eyebrow rose. "I just carry the bags," he teased.

Maddie puzzled about his meaning.

Ray was the one to laugh. "Wait, so you think because we're Volunteers of the fighting branch, me and her are a couple?" She laughed harder but Maddie didn't know what was so funny.

"Common misconception about me," Ray said, patting the woman on the shoulder as she walked by. "Like I always say: a beau with no arrow? What's the point?"

Cyble had the grace to blush. Maddie didn't comment as she entered the room. Priest followed.

A metal orb floated to them, shot out a beam of green light then zipped away.

"This is amazing," Ray gushed. "We get to be on a broadcast, too?" She nudged Maddie. "You know I've signed up for this gig every year for the last ten years and this was the first year I didn't and looky."

Maddie went where instructed, Priest still toting a bag.

The debate this time was somewhat more tamed. Ray didn't sit with them, she gave a wave from the other side of the room. Maddie realized why. She was sitting in the section Cyble wanted while Ray took it upon herself to join Richter's supporters.

Everything went very smoothly until after forty minutes, Cyble announced her own private guest to help her plead her case.

"One of the Volunteer Sentinels: 555." Cyble smiled smug.

Maddie looked around. Her eyes settled on the same ex-Vagrant propped beside Richter and concluded the open chair by Cyble was meant for her.

She stood to silence. A part of her wished she'd taken Ray's dress or whatever. Still, the suit was fine and all she had. When she sat down, the debate picked up in no time.

The air in this big room was hard to breathe so Maddie paced herself. She was fortunate enough to have shaved her head before coming, at least. So she looked presentable.

"And we have this argument every time," Richter yelled. "Food from where? Money from where? Why should we feed those who don't contribute a mijin to our society?"

Cyble shook her head, disgusted. She asked Maddie, "You work at the border; what are your thoughts on Mr. Richter's stance?"

Bright lights flashed in Maddie's eyes and she surveyed the crowd. She wanted to ask what they meant but they expected an answer.

"Mr. Richter makes some good points but they are not entirely accurate. For a Volunteer, work is synonymous with food. But the Inner City need not concern themselves with the Vagrant food supply because they do not supply any food to them at all."

Usually when people answered, the crowd reacted. For Maddie, nobody moved.

Cyble cleared her throat, uncomfortable. "Well, surely our donations that we do give go a long way."

Maddie focused on her. "The Inner City gives no rations or donations. Because they do not feed the Vagrants—Volunteers do. We work, we get the food. We share our food with the Vagrants."

It took a moment too long for Richter to fumble for a response. "Well the food we give to the Volunteers is already too much. Everyone knows that. So we're still feeding them indirectly."

"It is not given," Maddie corrected, "it is earned. Volunteers work; we're paid in food stock. A Volunteer gets one eighth the food for a month as what an Inner City dweller uses in one week. Of that one eighth, we share sixty percent with the Vagrants."

This time chatter erupted from the crowd. Someone came by and tapped Maddie's shoulder. The man handed her a data tablet and made a fast escape. The information on the screen was skewed. She overrode the civilian code and brought up the Volunteer's database to reconfirm what she was saying. She was correct.

"And what if it was true?" Richter said. "Which it isn't. You're in good shape; you look even a little heavier than the average Volunteer. It's enough. So why the complaints?"

Maddie answered, "I wasn't complaining. The fact that Vagrants are fed enough to survive is not a testament to the generosity of Volunteers but rather a testament to just how much more the Inner City gets."

Cyble hurried to interrupt. "Sentinel 555, what about the situation with tumors in the Outer Limits due to untreated cancer or the lack of preventive measures? My party received nearly ninety percent agreement in polls conducted among Volunteers. What are your thoughts? Shouldn't we give them better air?"

The air?

Maddie had nothing to say about the air. Fifty years ago, it was on par with the Inner City but those filters have never changed while the Inner City received updates almost yearly.

"Our biggest concern is less the air and more the food...."

This got people out of their chairs.

"Of course, the air is the most important," a woman screamed. Someone in the opposite row agreed.

They went on and on until the Vagrant by Richter's side shook his head, scoffing. "Nonsense."

Richter sat back, smug. "Just as I've thought." He indicated the Vagrant again. "They need nothing else. Mr. Popoa here is proof."

"Mr. Popoa is a killer," Maddie quipped.

The room fell silent at that. Except for Cyble's gasping and struggling to speak, nothing else broke through the stillness.

"Sentinel, that is uncalled for."

"But it's the truth," Maddie explained. "What are the functions of Vagrants? Why do we keep them around other than to be humane? Touch the wigs on each of your heads to find the answer. Ask the Volunteers we cull from them who jump into the jungle to bring back information for research, gems, and organs to name a few."

Cyble stopped herself from reaching for her long hair.

Maddie turned her attention to the Vagrant, Popoa. "But one thing is steady—food. We don't give more than what's needed to sustain them. That's why Volunteers must come from the children—adults don't have the power. So the food is constant and steady. Any Vagrant who finds enough physical strength to make the journey into the Inner City let alone fight, had to break a few skulls and steal enough food to get that big. And since nothing grows there...it's snatched."

On the panel and in the audience there wasn't much movement, but behind the scenes there was chaos. Soft yelling and panicked words that even reached them.

"Cut the feed," a voice said.

Maddie guessed from the dimming of some lights that people were doing just that.

She focused on Richter and asked, "How much is enough for you? Look at that gut you carry. How much is enough food for you? How much is enough money? Why must the Inner City feed with no conscience while its fellow man eat from troths?"

Cyble nodded.

"And don't be so agreeable," Maddie told her. "Because you are just as fat as he is."

The last light dimmed in the distance as well as the last gasp.

"You two are the same. Of course, you want to give medicine to the Outer Limits, for a price. And because of the aftertaste, they'll no doubt want sweet air and more profits. And you sit here trumpeting your horn as if you'd offer up your own food rations for Vagrants. Well why haven't you?"

Low Level Volunteers closed in, but Maddie wasn't finished.

She looked between Richter and Cyble and said, "You're both two heads from the same snake."

"Ah she said it," Ray grumbled with a groan. She let out a deep sigh and rushed to Richter. "I just want you to know that I'm a fan and I did vote for you so it's with the utmost sorrow that I do this."

The punch had the audience on their feet. Only Priest sat, his face in his hands.