[ WP ] Every person in the world undergoes a `` goodness '' test . It 's designed to give a score from 1 to 200 , where 1 is pure evil , and 200 is an angel in human body . Then the world is divided into 200 zones , where people can live among their own kind .

Clancy Marguerian, 154, private first class of the 150+ army, sits in his foxhole. Tired cold, wet and hungry, the only thing preventing him from laying down his rifle and walking towards the enemy lines in surrender is the knowledge that however bad he has it here, life as a 50-100 POW is surely much worse. He's fighting to keep his eyes open and his rifle ready when the mortar shells start landing near him. 
 
 He hunkers lower. 
 
 After a few minutes under the barrage, Marguerian hears hurried footsteps, a grunt, and a thud as a soldier leaps into the foxhole. The man's uniform is tan, he must be a 50-100. 
 
 The two men snarl and grab at eachother, grappling in the small foxhole. Abruptly, their faces come together. 
 
 `` Clancy?'' 
 
 `` Rob?'' 
 
 Rob Hall, 97, Corporal in the 50-100 army grins, as the situation turns from life or death struggle, to a meeting of two college friends. He lets go of Marguerian's collar. 
 
 `` Holy shit Clancy, you're the last person I expected to see here'' 
 
 `` Yeah'' 
 
 `` Shit man, I did n't think I'd ever see'Mr. volunteers every saturday morning at the food shelf', not after The Reorganization at least'' 
 
 `` Yeah Rob, it is something is n't it'' 
 
 `` Man, I'm sorry I tried to kill you there, hey, I heard you guys were out of food, here, you can share my dinner'' 
 
 Clancy marvels, even after all this: The Reorganization, the coalitions, the war, Rob is still his old, chatty self. 
 
 The two men sit, Rob chatting away, Clancy forcing out pleasantries. They pass Rob's rations between them. 
 
 
 `` Clancy my man, I heard a group of terrorist 5's took have formed some kind of cult, and they're rallying all the < 50 in their own coalition'' 
 
 `` Oh yeah?'' 
 
 `` Yeah, I mean, that sucks and everything, cause those are some scary dudes, but I heard that there's going to be a truce between our countries in a few days, why do n't we just hang out here, pretty soon we wo n't even be enemies anymore!'' 
 
 `` Yeah, Rob, that sounds like a plan'' 
 
 `` Man, I'm so glad I found you again, in a few days, this war will be over, and things will be cool between us and, hey, remember Sarah? I heard she's a 151, maybe I'll look her up, I'll be sure to visit you too once I can get a pass to sector 150-155, it'll probably be tough though, even before the war, you had to do sooo much paperwork to be allowed to visit, I wonder if passes will even be reinstated after the truce ends, hey, did I ever tell you about the time...'' 
 
 Rob babbles as he dozes off, grinning up at Clancy. 
 
 When Clancy is sure that his friend is asleep, he slits Rob's throat with his bayonet. Clancy climbs out of the foxhole, and stumbles his way back to battalion HQ.
