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“You can’t dictate who gets to eat and who doesn’t,” I shoot back

“The storage levels are low ”

I know they are

“So what do I do?” Fridrick de tone “Give everyone less? Or do what should be done—just distribute food to the ones who’ve earned it?”

Angry shouts, cheers of agreement, curses and screams erupt around us

“There’s enough for regular distro for several”

Fridrick narrows his eyes “I ain’t feeding the ones on’t work ”

“Everyone works!” I shout, exasperated

This was not the right thing to say Fridrick doesn’t answer—the crowd answers for hihbors, their fa The weavers, who only went back to the looms because I mandated their strike to end but who continue to work at a slower pace The greenhouse producers, who have been caughtproduce for themselves And individuals—specific people who have just decided to not work, either because they’re lazy or because of depression, like Evie and Harley’s mother, Lil

Rising above it all is a new chant: No work? No food! No work? No food!

“And what about the Hospital?” a shrill voice rises above the chant

“I work!” a voice near the back of the crowd shouts back My eyes ski nervous and anxious to hear his precious Hospital called into question

“What about all them at the Ward?” Fridrick says What he doesn’t say is, “What about Amy?”

Shite

“You’re right ” Bartie shoulders his way past Marae—who looks very oing to apply myself to productive work from this point on,” he says loudly