Susan Wildress knew that what she was about to do might mean death. She stopped eating and stared at the ration of ground cedar bark, rabbit, and a hydroponic which tasted like eggplant. She pushed back her plate and glanced around at the tense girl faces in the huge dining hall. She lifted a small strong hand and ran it inside her sweater. She brought out a locket, snapped it open. The flesh grew tight around her dark brown eyes and in her olive cheeks. The memory was still as clear as the day