He paced his fancy Head Gamemaker's quarters, considering the girl always on his mind. Katniss Everdeen. What was he to do with her?
That girl, he mused, such entertainment. But if she dies, it'll be better entertainment.
On that happy thought, he turned, Gamemaker's robes swishing around him, and left to get a cup of coffee.
Two hours later, Seneca Crane surveyed the other Gamemakers. All had dark circles under their eyes and were clutching their cups of black coffee, taking frantic sips from them every few seconds.
To his left, Kierana Valance, one of the smartest women he had ever met.
To his right, Plutarch Heavensbee, a nosy busybody that wanted to know everything about the Games. But Plutarch did his job well, so Seneca let his nosiness pass.
Then were Alayna, Marcellus and Jove. Scorpia, Moneta, Anine and Maximus.
"Thank you all for coming," he began.
"Cut to the chase," Kierana mumbled, a tendril of brown hair almost falling into her coffee.
"How do we kill Katniss Everdeen?"
That got their attention. Moneta and Lania took a last sip of coffee, and everyone else watched Seneca. Finally, Scorpia voiced for all of them, "Kill Katniss Everdeen?"
"It's the best entertainment strategy," Seneca said.
"Madness," Kierana proclaimed.
"We don't want to decide the victor," Seneca objected. "By protecting her, that's essentially what we do."
Alayna said, "All right. Raise your hand if you agree to kill Katniss Everdeen."
Marcellus, Maximus, and Anine did so. Moneta glanced at the circle of ten Gamemakers smiling grimly from the ceiling – the first group of Gamemakers, the ones who created the first ten Games.
Scorpia frowned.
"It makes no sense," she said in her District Two accent.
Seneca had always wondered why Scorpia had been invited from a disgusting, smelly district to become a Gamemaker. But then Scorpia had proved herself smart, innovative, worthy of the position with her interesting ideas and clever mechanisms. Seneca didn't know why a district girl was so smart, but there you were.
"Why is that, Miss Reddick?" he said. He never referred to the Gamemakers by their given names. It was always by their last names.
"Sir, Katniss Everdeen might be made to win," Scorpia said cautiously, aware that she was treading on thin ice.
Seneca's eyebrows disappeared into his mane of graying hair.
"You see, a rule change –"
"Miss Valance mentioned this idea before. It has been vetoed. We are killing Katniss Everdeen. Mr. Kaite, fire. Either kill her or drive a large number of tributes to her. She can climb – if you can, Miss Lirgan, tree her. Stick tracker jackers in her tree," he said, warming to the idea. "That'll finish her off."
Maximus and Anine both saluted and left.
Moneta leaned forward, putting her fingertips together. "Sir, how to phrase this delicately…"
"Miss Yashav?"
"Sir, what if she survives?"
"Survives tracker jackers?" Plutarch snorted.
"There is that possibility," Seneca admitted grudgingly. "But let's assume she doesn't."
"Let's let the boy win," Kierana said. "Tragic love."
"No, no, no," Plutarch said. "Let the Eleven girl win."
The other seven Gamemakers left in the room jumped up. "Heavensbee, you're insane!" cried Marcellus.
"Just an idea," Plutarch said, shrinking into his chair. Plutarch was older than Seneca, but somehow managed to project the shy demeanor of a schoolkid in trouble.
"If she survives," Seneca said slowly, "we make the rule change Miss Valance proposed earlier. It is no longer vetoed, but she has to survive first. It's highly unlikely she will. Tracker jackers, fire, a possibility of several other tributes...Mr. Kaite has probably already started the fire. Let's get down the control room and watch Katniss Everdeen die."