The Declaration

Anna reluctantly put her spoon down.
    ‘This is good, nutritious food,’ she said wearily.
    ‘What’s good and nutritious about it?’ Peter demanded. ‘This isn’t even meat. It’s like sawdust.’
    Anna swallowed her mouthful. ‘It’s reconstituted meat,’ she said. ‘With flour to thicken it. And I think it’s delicious.’
    ‘Then you can have mine,’ Peter said, pushing his bowl towards her.
    Anna stared at him. ‘You have to eat your food, Peter. It’s our duty to stay strong and . . .’
    ‘Strong and healthy, yeah,’ Peter interrupted her. ‘Well, I’m not going to be either if I eat this.’
    Anna felt her heart begin to quicken in her chest. All the other Surpluses at the table were studiously looking down, but that didn’t mean they didn’t know what was going on. An offer of extra food was a rare thing, and Anna’s eyes were already looking at Peter’s bowl greedily. But if Mrs Pincent found out that Peter hadn’t eaten, he might be beaten for selfishness.
    Looking around furtively, Anna grabbed Peter’s bowl and poured half of its contents into her bowl, then pushed it back towards Peter.
    ‘You have to eat the rest,’ she said, her voice low. ‘You have to eat something.’
    Peter shrugged. ‘There’s worse things than being hungry, you know,’ he said softly. ‘Don’t you agree, Anna?’
    She could feel Peter’s eyes on her, and she decided to ignore him, gulping down her broth quickly. She wanted to get away from Peter, wanted him to stop talking to her and looking at her as though he thought she was interested in anything he had to say.
    But instead of taking her hint, Peter moved his head closer to Anna’s. ‘Your mother is a wonderful cook, Anna. She makes the most delicious food. Shall I tell you?’
    Anna clamped her hands to her ears, knocking her spoon to the ground in the process. ‘No,’ she hissed. ‘No, she doesn’t, and no I don’t want you to tell me anything.’
    She leant down to pick up her spoon, but as she reached for it, a large, heavy foot landed on her fingers and she yelped.
    ‘Dropped something?’ a voice asked, and Anna grimaced. It was Surplus Charlie, another Pending, tall like Peter but broad too, his large frame pushing at the seams of his overalls.
    ‘Get off my hand,’ Anna said angrily, pushing at his leg with her free hand. ‘I’ll report you . . .’
    ‘Are you bowing down to me, Surplus Anna?’ Charlie asked thinly, his greenish eyes mocking her. ‘It looks to me as if you might have finally Learnt Your Place.’
    Anna gritted her teeth and tried again to pull her hand away, but before she could do so, Charlie suddenly went tumbling to the floor. She rescued her hand and sat up to see Peter towering over Charlie, his foot pressed into his chest.
    ‘Maybe you need to learn your place,’ Peter growled. ‘Maybe you need to learn some manners.’
    He looked at Anna with a little smile. ‘What shall I do with him, Anna Covey?’ he mouthed silently, and she stared at him fearfully. Fights between Surpluses were tolerated in dormitories, but in Central Feeding Surpluses weren’t encouraged to even talk to each other; Peter could have all three of them beaten if any of the Instructors saw what had just happened. What made it worse was that he had pushed Charlie down to defend her, and it made Anna feel vulnerable, the one thing that she’d worked so hard to avoid.
    ‘I don’t need a protector, Surplus Peter,’ she said angrily. ‘And if you don’t let Surplus Charlie go right this minute, we’ll all end up in Solitary. You might be comfortable down there, but I’m not, thank you very much.’
    Peter frowned slightly, then shrugged and moved his foot.
    Charlie scrambled to his feet and looked at Peter menacingly. ‘You’ll regret that, you Outside scum,’ he said bitterly.
    Charlie walked away to join the food queue, and Peter sat back down next to Anna, making her shift along the bench self-consciously. Everyone was staring at them, and she could feel her heart quickening as she felt Peter’s eyes looking towards her.
    ‘I was only trying to help,’ he muttered, putting his elbows on the table and hunching over them.
    ‘Surpluses don’t help each other; we’re here to help Legals,’ Anna said tightly. ‘And I can handle things on my own, thank you very much.’
    ‘Fine,’ Peter said irritably. ‘Then I’m sorry I even bothered. I just thought . . .’
    ‘Well, don’t!’ Anna said. Her eyes