WE WERE like bloodhounds, sniffing all the way — at the golden cheesy waft from Barstucks, the hot-bread rope of scent from Krusts. The smell from Coffee to Go made me drool and I don’t even like the stuff. We stood outside Crammers and stared in at the woman wedging a fat yellow muffin into her mouth.

‘Why can’t we try our Scope-cards?’

‘They’ve made the old ones invalid already.’

‘Wash dishes for scraps?’

‘They’d want to know why we aren’t getting endorsed. Might report us.’ I glanced around then snatched a fresh white bag off the top of a full rubbish bin. It released a sprinkle of sugar, then it was empty.

‘Derik!’

‘Reflex,’ I said. ‘I wouldn’t eat anything with bite marks.’ But I wasn’t so sure. We used to test each other on the way home from school: ‘Would you rather pay ten bucks or eat an apple Tracy Gould’s been slurping?’ ‘Rather lick ice-cream off the footpath or jump from the gym roof?’ Right now I’d take the apple and lick the juice off Tracy’s chin. I’d jackhammer up the piece of footpath and suck it clean.

We caught the first sea-whiff from the top of the railway bridge. The shining rails reached both ways, but both ways led to other towns, other cities where people were getting their veins hooked up to the Natural Chemistry Unit. Everywhere they were buying the idea that this week they were on the road to becoming healthier, stronger, that they might get to live a hundred and fifty, two hundred years … who knew, maybe forever. We went down the steps towards the sea and sucked in air that carried the flashing memory, for me, of spray-wet sails, of sizzling through the waves on my grandfather’s old yacht.

We walked around the esplanade and down onto the wooden platform two metres above the water. The salty wind pierced our clothes. It felt good at first — fresh and clean.

Usually the place is dotted with people fishing but there was no-one else today. We tossed pink gravel from the tussock garden into the water and knelt down to peer under the wharf at the gloomy seaweedy posts.

‘Fish,’ I said. ‘If we get hungry enough.’

‘I’m hungry enough,’ said Marti, sitting back, tugging a splinter of wood off the wharf edge. ‘What’s in there?’

‘Spotties. Tiny with heaps of bones.’

‘How would you catch them? With a snotty hanky?’ She hugged one knee, pressed her face to it.

I sat near her with my feet hanging. ‘I’ve been thinking I’ll go home and nick a few things.’

‘Nick? From your own home?’

‘It’ll be like that. People living there. Have to wait till they’ve gone.’

‘Who?’ Marti swivelled round to see me.

‘These research students are house-sitting, three of them that Dad knew from varsity.

‘Thought he knew. The plan was, I’d stay there during the week ’cause it’s close to school, and go to my grandparents’ at weekends.

‘But then, bang, Endorsement’s on and two of the students came home yesterday showing off their new skin. The other one was waiting, couldn’t decide, but I wasn’t going to hang around for them to dob me in.’

‘There’s no school this week. Why didn’t you go to your grandparents’?’ Marti stuck her chin out in challenge.

‘Could have. Still could but I wanted to see what was happening, see how people get on.’ I couldn’t bear to be stuck in my grandparents’ sleepy satellite town during what Dad called the biggest social experiment in history. Besides, too many of their neighbours had nothing better to do than check up on each other — and on each other’s visitors.

Marti had both her knees hugged up now. ‘But you can go there any time.’

‘I won’t. Maybe I’ll get a message to them, to my sisters, but I’m going to stay here.’ I looked towards the city crouched into the hills. ‘See how the feeding network goes, first-hand.’ I recalled recent evenings with my parents, sitting three-a-breast in front of the computer — this was the only thing about Endorsement I’d paid really close attention to — chasing obscure websites with coded entries, watching the map of feeding sites slowly grow. They’d worked so hard to get it set up, but it had taken a leap-start when Endorsement had been brought forward suddenly.

‘But you could,’ she insisted.

‘Yeah, I could, and you could too,’ I flung back at her. ‘No-one has to sleep out on the streets.’

‘Don’t get snickety. I’m not trying to be some kind of hero. I just wondered if you’re going to …’

‘Leave you?’ I said. I looked at the whitened fingernails clutching her knee, the unravelling plait, the tight line of her mouth, shook my head. ‘I won’t. When my parents get back you can join us. But what about yours? Won’t they be looking for you?’

Marti craned her neck to see my watch. ‘I’ve got eight hours till they do.’ She stood up abruptly. ‘I’m too cold. Can we walk back?’

I trailed her along the waterfront, through the streets and back up the railway steps.

‘I rang them last night,’ Marti said at the top, looking towards St Clair with its bright houses stuck onto the hill above the beach. ‘Said I was still with a friend, working out what to do and I’d be back for dinner tonight.’

I caught my breath. ‘Will you?’

She looked sideways at me. ‘Just think, crispy-roast potatoes, chicken and gravy, chocolate cake and cold milk.’ She started down the steps, turned and flashed me a brief grin. ‘No, I won’t, but I told them if they try and force me to get endorsed, I’ll really disappear.’

Marti paused on the third step from the bottom. ‘I’m going to disappear anyway. I’ll ring and tell them when I get up the nerve.’ She patted her pocket.

I told her, ‘This guy Ryan at school said they can track people by satellite if they carry cell phones, just like they can track the wand because it’s got a microchip.’

‘Really? So I should hide the phone?’

‘But not too close to where we’re staying.’

Marti took out her little silver phone and looked at it. Her thumb began to rap out text. ‘My best friend got endorsed. This is her last message from me.’ Marti stroked the phone down her cheek, then she walked back up the steps.

I sat where I was, thinking back to last evening: me crossing the park with my backpack, seeing Marti for the first time — a grey flash — slipping behind the white mushroom of the observatory. We’d played a game of cat and mouse, round and round, until she doubled back on me. She planted her hands on her hips, slit her eyes and said, ‘So? Whaddya want?’

We looked at each other for maybe a full twenty seconds, eyed each other’s packs, wrists (I had my sleeves up, she had the grubby bandage), glanced around the park, at the darkening sky.

‘I know a place,’ Marti spoke finally, before I’d said a thing.

So I followed her, curious, over the end of the golf course, looking down onto the city where the lights were coming on, to the harbour where a ship was moving towards the heads, towards open sea and freedom. I’d planned to sleep in the bush; I had a ground sheet big enough to go under and over me, but Marti wanted to be near buildings. At the school, which backed onto the bush, we could go in the bike shed if it rained, we could use the drinking fountain. And there’d be no creatures rustling around, she said; it wouldn’t get completely dark with the street lights only fifty metres away.

I gave in on that first night, happy not to be alone. We’d each brought food but made a pact not to touch it until we were desperate. We hoisted it into a pine tree five minutes’ walk from the school, so neither of us could sneak off easily in the night without the other knowing.

Now something made me turn round, just in time to see Marti hurling the phone onto the chopped stones below. It bounced between the tracks and bits flew off it. I felt as if I’d just been slapped awake. Marti was tough. I didn’t know how tough I’d be when it came to the crunch. Right now, I knew hunger would be the first thing to break my resolve not to get endorsed.

As we made our way back to the library, in my head I was climbing the tree and peeling back the lid of that little tin of tuna in basil sauce, feeling the red oil run over my tongue, cramming it into my mouth with my hand, like a baby.

‘What?’ said Marti.

‘I didn’t say anything.’

‘You groaned.’

‘Sorry. Food.’

‘Me too. Have some water. Where shall we go at four past two?’

‘Lowe Street, I think.’ I was kicking myself again that I’d left home without checking on the Internet for the first feeding station. ‘They’ll probably give us two-minute noodles.’ They might refuse to give us anything.

‘Chicken feet,’ Marti said. ‘Thousand year old eggs. I wouldn’t care. Even salt plums I’d scoff.’

We were waiting outside when the man unbolted the library doors at ten.

‘We’re only open for reading this week,’ he said. ‘You been done already?’

Marti and I did our head roll.

‘Hurt at all? I’m going over this afternoon.’

Marti looked grim. ‘Hurts all kinds of ways.’

I pulled my cuffs into my hands.

At the computer corner we strolled around peering under the tables, into rubbish bins for a glimpse of discarded pink Internet card. ‘Empty of course,’ said Marti, kicking at a bin. ‘And vacuumed overnight.’

My stomach growled and burned. I felt hollow, exhausted, tempted to crawl over to the sunny patch of carpet under the big windows, and sleep. I didn’t want to be awake in a world where every small act was so complicated. Maybe we should just go to my grandparents’ where there was food, free e-mail, soft beds and a toilet two doors from anywhere.

I made for the exit then Marti whistled through her teeth. She jerked her head at the desk where the assistant was on the phone with her back to me. On the desk behind her was a stack of cards she’d been stamping. Pink.

I hesitated, glanced at Marti. Her lips were saying, do it! I sidled over and snatched. I got two and walked nonchalantly back to the computers. I put them on the table by Marti, feeling weak and sick. ‘D’you reckon we should?’ Use stolen property. Four, no eight, dollars we didn’t have.

‘How come you suddenly got a bad conscience? When you’ve already committed civil disobedience?’

‘Civil what? Endorsement? But we know that’s wrong.’

‘And stealing’s wrong,’ Marti snapped. ‘Which wrong do you want to be? We’re in it deep now and we gotta do what we have to, to survive, eh?’

I was confused. Did the fact we disagreed with our government suddenly make every other wrong thing right? Had we become so criminal it didn’t matter what we did now?

‘Don’t look so gloomy.’ Marti poked a card into the slot. ‘Your parents started this. Blame them, eh?’

I sat down and tapped out the familiar sequence. Summoned my parents across the globe. I had to bite the insides of my mouth, I missed them so badly.

But there were no incoming messages. I stabbed New.

Hi Mum and Dad, I tapped out, glad when Marti wandered off, hope you’re having a great time. Telling about us, everything here is well with new skin all round at our house so I’m not wasting any time. There are good pies. At Frankie’s Dairy kids like me can get K-bars with S-cards. No longer can I use your fishing rod, Dad because it seems too long. Until you come home I am sleeping well. At Albert St school I found a girl running. Away from her home she is quite brave like me. And you would be. Proud Derik.

I stared at the words and pictured my parents crowding Mum’s laptop to read my message, Mum twirling a strand of hair round her finger till it flicked up into a tight curl, the way she does when she’s worried.

‘Doesn’t make sense.’ Marti was back beside me. ‘Oh, S-cards no longer … too long until you come home … that’s clever.

‘What should I do, d’you think? My parents never check their e-mail or I’d send one. I don’t want them getting the police onto me when I’m perfectly safe.’

‘We could go and talk to them from your doorstep,’ I said. I wouldn’t mind setting eyes on some parents even if they weren’t mine.

‘I couldn’t. I might want to go home too badly. I would if Pipi came jumping round. My dog,’ she added. ‘Anyway, they might have people watching the house for me.’

I shrugged. That seemed unlikely so early on but I didn’t want to take the adventure out of it for Marti. I didn’t want her to go and leave me either.

‘Phone,’ I said at last. ‘At my place. We’ll go over and wait till it’s empty.’

‘They might be looking for you, too.’ Marti leaned on the computer.

‘Uh-uh. I just told our house-sitters I was going to my grandparents’ after all. No questions asked.’

‘Okay, I could ring as long as you don’t listen, in case I crack up.’ Marti slid her hand over the mouse. ‘What’s the feeding network website? Let’s check it out.’

I fingered the Internet card — my lifeline to my parents, with only about forty-five minutes left on it. There was no knowing if we’d get hold of any more. ‘I reckon we should just go down to Lowe Street later, see how it goes.’

‘But didn’t you say the schedule’s all on the Internet?’

I sighed. ‘But it’s not that simple. You’ve got to follow links. You need lots of time.’ Precious parent e-mail time.

‘Come on. We’ve got time. Another card after this.’ She pulled up a chair. ‘Gimme the first site.’

‘No.’ I snatched the spare card into my pocket. Marti’s hand was over the other.

‘What’s the problem? You know I don’t have any information. It’s not fair if you keep it all to yourself.’

‘I need to keep in touch with my parents.’ I stood up. ‘Get your own cards.’ I knocked Marti’s hand away and snatched the card.

Marti had two red marks on her cheeks. ‘You agreed last night we’d share stuff. Food, whatever we found. I didn’t know I was joining up with a … a thug!’

I stepped back from her clenching fists. ‘You don’t know how important it is to keep links with … them. The information they’re getting over there. It’s big, and we won’t hear a thing about it otherwise.’

Marti wrenched hair back behind her ear. ‘You don’t know how important it is to survive. You think this is hungry. You wait and see how we feel tomorrow. How you feel, because I’ll be off finding someone who knows how to cooperate.’ She spun and marched out of the library. I watched her plaits flick, flick, flick as she joggled down the steps to the street.

I followed her, fifty metres behind, feeling sluggish and hungry. It was predictable, where she’d go. Back to the school. Back to the tree where the food was hidden. If I was so uncooperative, she might as well take her share before I did.

But I found her near the bike shed kneeling on the asphalt, folding up her things, the way I’d done that morning, smoothing a T-shirt over her knee, stroking it.

I picked up a pottle of lip gloss that had rolled away. ‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘We can use our computer at home if there’s no-one around.’ Even though it would make the trip that much more hazardous. I’d planned a quick snatch and grab, with Marti’s phone call a concession. Now I was making another one, just to keep this tetchy girl with me. Maybe we’d each be better off on our own.

She looked at me and nodded. Her face had paled.

‘You okay?’

‘Tummy ache. Never had one like this.’

‘Hungry. We could go to my place now. We don’t have to wait till feeding time.’

‘It’s not that. Something else.’

‘I’ve got pills,’ I said. ‘Paradoleine. Strong.’

Marti swallowed one down with a gulp of water. She wiped hair back off her face with the flat of her hand. There was a smudge of dirty tears across her cheek. ‘When this works we’ll go to your place, eh?’