Free Justice by Jeffrey Salane

theother voice outside of the booth, but that felt too random, too unrehearsed, and too out of her father’s control to have been a coded message. But one thing every filmmaker controls is the camera. So why did the video begin with her father out of the frame? Perhaps because he was showing her the bench … the bench covered with initials! Then M remembered her father’s closing words: Always remember that you are greater than the sum of the parts your mother and I gave you . It didn’t sound like something he would say at all. It was too clunky and more than a little hokey. M culled together all the initials from memory, which were linked with plus signs, then added up the sum … and decoded her father’s true statement.
    Do as they say, not as they do.
    Tracing the slight bump on her left wrist, where her tracker was buried inside her, M realized that she was already following her father’s secret instructions. She was playing along with the Fulbrights but hadn’t believed for a moment that she was one of them.
    Periodically through the night, M got out of bed and paced around the room, looking for any sign that her activity was waking up sleeping beauty, but Vivian remained recklessly asleep. It was a small victory. Her roommate was confident in the power of the tracker and the suit, and that reliance was something M could exploit once Merlyn found a way to rewire their outfits. But where would they go once they had their freedom? M crawled back into bed and riffled through every fact and fable she had ever learned about the Fulbright Academy. And somehow, at some late hour, amid a swarm of schemes, M finally dozed off, too.
     
    The next morning M climbed back into her suit and followed Vivian to a cafeteria that buzzed quietly with scripted activity. The students moved in concert, like honeybees diligently building their hive. The lines to receive food were straight and orderly, and there might as well have been assigned seating – once each student had his meal, he walked single file to the next open seat without hesitation. The calmness of it gave M the creeps. Mealtime at Lawless had been a free-for-all, so this well-behaved performance felt forced and unnatural. But what really gave her the creeps were the dagger stares that each Fulbright aimed directly at her and her friends.
    Seated at their own table, Merlyn, Jules, and M were castaways on an abandoned island. An island surrounded by molten lava that wanted nothing more than to destroy that island and everything it stood for. Clearly they were not welcome here.
    ‘I feel like a gazelle locked in a lion’s cage,’ said Jules.
    ‘Ignore them,’ said Merlyn, pushing a fork through the gelatinous substance on his tray. ‘Pretend they’re jealous of our delicious-looking food.’
    Their trays sat in front of them with a tidy smattering of unearthly-looking grub. On M’s tray, bright red pudding stayed firmly in its assigned section alongside a black-and-white-striped cake and green, licoricelike cords.
    ‘It’s not that the food is bad,’ continued Merlyn, ‘but the presentation is just bizarre! I mean, if you wanted to make the food of the future, can’t you just make it into a pill that we take with water?’
    Shrugging, M crunched into the green cords, which turned out to be an incredibly rich version of pesto bacon. The cake was a buttery marble-rye French toast with a honey glaze, and the red pudding was apple-fried grits with melted cheese.
    ‘Ugh,’ muttered Jules in frustration. ‘I hate that this ugly stuff is so delicious. I can’t get used to my eyes and my taste buds disagreeing.’
    ‘Where’s Cal?’ asked Merlyn with a mouthful of cake.
    ‘Yeah, he’d have a lot to say about this stuff,’ added Jules, absently stirring her yellow pudding.
    ‘Guys,’ said M in a hushed voice, ‘we need to talk about yesterday.’
    ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ said Jules sternly. ‘Not my shining moment in the