"A common complaint of city dwellers," he observed.
"Don't joke!" she demanded. "Our food is running out. We have enough to last five more years if the present birth-death cycle maintains itself."
Danniels whistled mournfully.
"And you have—let's see—about seven more years to go."
She nodded.
"I came out to see what chance there was of ending this senseless blockade."
"None at all," he snapped. "No one is going to risk breaking the rules of the War Games just to save a few million lives."
"But they will have to! The Broadcasters will make them."
"You would be surprised at how much doublethink people can practice about not killing," he assured her from bitter, personal experience. "They don't know for certain that you will be starving in there, so they will be free to keep you inside."