A slow, crackling drone came from the turntable.
I don't want to set the world on fire
Licinius Gracchus cleared his throat. Alone, he looked around the president's office. It was very drab for Capitol style, lacking the typically grandiose color and décor. It was dimly lit, and the only remarkable feature was a portrait of a muttated eagle behind the president's desk. It was grotesque, almost reptilian. Licinius wondered if it was meant to scare him or anyone that had ever sat where he was sitting.
I just want to start a flame in your heart
A series of pops came as the needle was lifted out of the record's grooves. Licinius swiveled around.
"Oh, hello Mr. President." He said, rising from his chair.
"Please, remain seated, Licinius." Said the president, looking down at the turntable. "Sorry to keep you waiting. I had some matters to attend." The president moved around the desk to the side with the eagle portrait and sat down in front of Licinus. "Now, before we begin: Head Gamemaker, what did you think of that record?"
Licinius sat up straight in his chair and uncrossed his legs. "Er… It was lovely."
"Yes, I quite agree." Said the president, smiling. He had a very gaunt face with combed over blonde hair and the accompanying blue eyes. Licinius' brown eyes returned the gaze; it was a rather unnatural thing to see two naturally colored eyes in the same room in the Capitol. Licinius smoothed his hands along his pants. He knew the president was a very shrewd man. What was this all about?
"I'm guessing you would like its themes to play into this year's games?" Asked Licinius.
The president kept his smile. "I never said that."
"Oh, I shouldn't have inferred... but I know your time is valuable and I shouldn't like to waste it."
"Waste my time? Dear Licinius, I am the one that has kept you waiting. Unless… you mean to say that I am the one that is wasting your time?"
Licinius blinked twice. He had made an error. "Ahh…"
"You have somewhere to be?" Asked the president with well-enunciated inquisition. "Two colleagues cannot simply listen to a record? A record that happens to be a relic, by the way, that has survived several great wars. You cannot sit to enjoy a rare piece of human history, that has perhaps been heard by only a handful of living ears?"
"Sir I meant-"
"You must insist on getting to business, the business of taking the lives of children, mind you- do not fool yourself, because this is exactly what I am paying you to do- you must insist on setting about this business without so much as stopping to enjoy a finer quality of this sweet, short life? Well?" The president had sprayed spit onto Licinius' face but he dared not wipe it off.
"It was a lovely record, sir. Shall, shall we listen to it again?"
"No... Cowardly sycophant." The president put his face between his hands. He massaged the vein bulging from his forehead. "Licinius, you know that I could kill you?"
"Yes."
The president laughed. "You see how much less fun it is without subtlety?"
He grinned widely. "Licinius, how are you supposed to plan an absolutely unforgettable game if you lack the necessary subtlety and patience? The games are not a race to see how quickly we can slaughter our helpless slaves. They are a delicate performance. Meant to be savored." With this the president rose from his seat and shut his blue eyes. He raised his hands as if directing an orchestra. Licinius sat as still a possible.
"Do you hear it, Licinius? Not the song itself. Not that trite, flawed composition. What I want you to listen to is the soft crackle. I want you to hear the popping. As the needle hits an imperfection in the vinyl, it echoes. The soft explosions rage beneath the music. They make it beautiful." The president stopped. He opened his eyes and looked at the man sitting before him. "Now we listen to it again."
Licinius felt the president move behind him to the record player. He sat there as the president played the record. Then he played it again. And a third time. Licinius was sure that he would be killed. At any minute he expected the president to come behind him and wring his neck. He expected the floor beneath his chair to retract, dumping him into a furnace. He expected snakes to drop from the ceiling. He expected to die. Instead he was forced to listen to this insufferable record over and over.
"Are you beginning to understand?" asked the president.
Licinius was still for a while longer. His neck was stiff and felt oncoming spasms, but he held them back. No matter how badly he wanted to fidget, he remained still. He had to choose his next words very deliberately.
"In a word?" Asked Licinius, "Elegant- no... Fastidious." He saw the president's expression change minutely, cruelly. "We make the games unforgettable. But not extravagant. We don't want a proverbial 'splash,' but we want ripples. We won't be making any heroes or martyrs. We will slowly chip away at their resolve, at their morale. Their tributes will slip away ingloriously, and with it any iota of resistance along with them."
The president smiled.