In the cafeteria, I traded Smoky's coin for a plate of double rations: a greasy soup, a coarse, grainy bread, and a cup of water. It seemed almost impossible we watched the Letter Trials here just this morning. As I ate, I wondered why I could watch an entire group of men kill each other on screen and feel nothing, but seeing a man in a pit, shot by a guard, burned anger as hot as an Incinerator inside me. The men in the Letter Trials were criminals who deserved it... But if we were talking about criminals, I was one just for existing.

Not for the first time, I wished they showed the other, higher Letter Trials here in the Belly. The trials were places where people could fight for justice, honor and redemption... but I didn't see any of that in the Tuv Pit. Maybe the other trials were different. Better.

As I ate, I stared at the screens on the farthest wall, now dim, wondering what happened to combatants between Trials. In one week's time, Dagger would fight against all the other winners of the Tuv preliminary Letter Trials, and any unlucky criminals caught this week. It was it that Tuv Pit fight where two winners would progress on to the Pucker Letter Trial, of levels O, P, Q, R and S. It didn't seem fair that Dagger would have to fight again so soon— but then again, maybe it was better to have less time to think about it all. I wondered if he was kept in some cell, all alone, contemplating what he'd done? Was that better than being shot in the bottom of a pit like a rat?

Dinner continued around me, as some engineers made their way out early to spend time with families, and the younger ones stayed to talk. I had just risen to leave, wondering why Xyla and Yaneli hadn't shown up, when the screens suddenly flickered at the back of the room.

A few people craned their heads, confused, the conversations filling the room with a low hum, when a man stepped into the frame.

Silence.

The man on the screen stood straight-backed, eyes dark as misery. He wore The White Uniform, a color that would have lasted all of five minutes in the Belly.

Admiral Adonis Acheron.

A familiar coldness ran down my back. "Live in the Beast," his voice boomed, and automatically our voices joined to answer him, "Die in the Beast."

His voice filled the room like he was God himself. "It has come to the attention of the K-guards that certain individuals have been vandalizing information monitors and stealing parts from the Belly. Anyone caught doing so will be immediately entered into the Letter Trials. As your Admiral, I want to remind you all that it is only together, with each of us respecting and serving within our given letters, that we will reach Second Earth. It is both because of this disrespect, and lack of discipline throughout the lower levels, that as of tomorrow, all food rations below level T will be reduced by 10 percent."

Gasps and cries of anger filled the room, one of them my own. Even so, no one stood up. Even here, we were careful.

His voice continued. "Anyone refusing to comply will be entered into The Letter Trials, where they may voice their objections in person. Live in the Beast."

The screen went black, but this time no one echoed back the damning words.

We heard them anyway.