Chapter 1
In a windowless room constructed of concrete walls, a mature woman with salt and pepper hair sat at a meager metal desk, reading from a computer tablet, as classical music played from small shelf speakers set upon empty bookshelves. Having read for lengthy period, the woman took time to rest her eyes, turning her tablet face down upon her charcoal grey trousers. She reached for her coffee cup and reluctantly sipped the stale drink, which had cooled hours prior. She next removed her smartphone from her blazer pocket to check for messages, setting her lifeline to the real world upon the barren desktop before stretching her neck and sighing.
Shortly after returning to her reading, she heard someone knock on the open door. Her eyes remained focus on the tablet when she said in a curt tone, "Yes."
A younger man dressed in a well-fitted suit stood under doorway. "Dr. Galen?"
Without lifting her head, her eyes drifted up from her tablet. "Yes."
"I'm Dr. Verus." He paused for a response that did not come. "I'm here for the fellowship interview."
With a faint smile, Dr. Galen set aside her tablet. "Ah, Dr. Verus, please come in and take a seat. For a moment, I thought you were from the government. I've had my fill with those people lately."
The young man approached the desk and shook her hand. He looked around the room as he sat down on the cold metal chair in front of the desk. "They don't give you much in creature comforts."
"They only give me what I need." The woman took another sip of cold coffee. Grimacing, she commented, "This is as nice as it ever gets."
"Dr. Galen, thank you for granting me an interview. Did you receive my portfolio?"
"Yes." Dr. Galen clasped her hands together over her lap. "I hope it wasn't too difficult finding your way here?"
The man held back his laughter as he smiled. "It was certainly an interesting journey. The Peacekeepers were kind enough guided me every step of the way. I have to admit that it was a longer trip than I had expected. Where are we?"
"They don't tell me. The exact location is kept a secret until I'm no longer needed."
"I see." When the room fell silent, Dr. Verus could not help but fidget in the presence such a renowned surgeon. "It seems unusual to see candidates here, of all places."
Rubbing her thumbs against the sides of her coffee cup, Dr. Galen stared at the oily sheen that had formed on the surface. "I always see my applicants here."
"Really? Why if I may ask?" Clasping his restless hands together, he straightened in his chair.
Gnawing the inside of her lip, Dr. Galen carefully eyed her young candidate. "Because the Hunger Games are the perfect venue in finding my next surgical fellow."
The young doctor appeared even more perplexed. "I don't expect that there is much to do here for an experienced brain surgeon but to wait."
"True." Dr. Galen studied the young man's minimalist, but expensive, suit. "Why do you want to be my surgical fellow?"
The man grinned. "To learn from the best surgeon in the country. I apologize if my answer is overly blunt."
"I prefer blunt and to the point answers. Why did you choose neurosurgery?"
The young doctor again shifted in his chair. "I became obsessed with repair of spinal trauma. The field of study sort of picked me after a friend of mine suffered a motorcycle accident."
The woman swirled the coffee in her cup, watching the oil film reform on the surface. "What about the money and fame?"
"I won't lie and say that I don't think about it, but I actually don't care. If I deserve success, it will come." Glancing at his own attire, Dr. Verus removed a piece of lint from his slacks, dropping the white spec of cotton to the concrete floor. "I want to learn from you because you are the best, not because of your notoriety."
Observing his mannerisms, Dr. Galen continued to study the chief resident that she had intentionally saved for last.
The man cleared his throat. "It must be an honor for you to be chosen as the game's official coroner?"
"It's not an honor; I volunteered."
The resident's brow furled. "They say that you were chosen."
The senior doctor sipped her coffee. "All the rumors are wrong. I volunteered."
"Oh, sorry for the misunderstanding." The young man clasped his hands tighter as the room fell silent. "If you select me for understudy, I prom—"
"Stop."
"Excuse me?"
"We can skip the pleasantries. We are both medical professionals."
Dr. Verus shifted in his chair before casually crossing his legs. "Okay. Do you have any questions about my record?"
"No. I wouldn't have invited you to the interview if I did."
"Have you filled the position?"
Setting her coffee down, Dr Galen leaned forward to rest her elbows on the desk. "No. You are my last candidate."
"They say that you sometimes leave the slot vacant for the year if you don't find the perfect chief resident."
Dr. Galen grinned. "That rumor is true, but I'm not searching for the perfect chief resident."
"What are you looking for?"
"A doctor," said the woman just before her smartphone chimed. Dr. Galen glanced at her phone resting on the desk and frowned. "I'm looking for a doctor. Another tribute has died and will arrive in a few minutes. I have to prepare." The doctor slid her smartphone into the front pocket of her blazer and stood.
The resident rose to his feet. "Do you want me to come back later?"
"No. I was actually hoping that we could continue this interview in the morgue." Dr. Galen stepped around to the front of her desk. "Would you care to assist me?"
"Dr. Galen, I'd be honored."
The senior doctor gestured to the door. "Come, let's change our clothes."
Having changed into surgical clothing, the two doctors passed through a set of double doors into a large windowless room lit by several strips of simple ceiling lights. A stainless steel autopsy table occupied the center of the makeshift morgue. Within arm's reach of the table, a leaky faucet dripped into a stainless steel sink. In one corner, an assortment of medical equipment was stacked next to a large plastic drum of formaldehyde.
The chief resident circled the room. "Basic necessities again I see."
The female doctor approached the table. "It was much worse when I first started years ago. I had to use most of my influences in the Capitol to get most of this."
Noticing a second set of double doors, Dr. Verus gestured towards them. "What's in there?"
Dr. Galen nodded for him to look.
He approached the doors and pushed forward. Stopping in his tracks beneath the doorframe, he counted seven pine coffins. "Oh, I see." He stepped back from the room and slowly turned around. "Is there cool storage?"
"No. I embalm them immediately and send them home. Each train has at least one cold storage car."
"I see. Who will we be attending to?"
"Pandora Spiga from District Nine." Dr. Galen leaned back against the table. "Are you familiar with these kids?"
"A little. I at least watch the interviews. She's the girl with the long curly black hair that hung past her shoulders. She had the most charming smile."
"I never see the interviews since I'm usually preparing things in the arenas, but your description matches her profile picture on my phone."
Circling the room, Dr. Verus began to inspect the medical equipment. "How did she die?"
"Don't know. I never watch any of it."
The male doctor turned to his mentor. "Then why do you volunteer to be the coroner?"
"Many years ago, I learned that they would ship the fallen without any preparation or cleaning back to their districts in pine boxes. What the families received in the midst of summer only worsened their grief. Disgusting me further, I discovered that they use to have the Head Peacekeepers sign the death certificates. All this was unacceptable to me, so I began volunteering. I actually had to pay for the formaldehyde myself the first couple of years. The equipment I borrowed from my hospital."
Dr. Verus crossed the room. "Did the Capitol object?"
"They did, but eventually they relented and began to provide the equipment after I hinted at making my fight public."
Returning to the double doors to inspect the coffins, the young man paused and said, "These coffins are as cheap as they get. Surely tributes deserve better."
Dr. Galen clenched her jaw as she shrugged. "Don't call them tributes."
"Excuse me?"
"They're not tributes. They are victims." Dr. Galen crossed her arms. "Even the winner of the games is a victim."
Stepping away from the double doors, a perplexed Dr. Verus stared at his senior. "Um..."
The woman cleared her throat. "In this room, they are victims. When you and I are out in public, they are tributes."
Hesitantly, the resident nodded. "Okay."
Dr. Galen then crossed the room to open a small cabinet that contained various medical supplies. "And yes they deserve better. I did try to upgrade them to something of a sturdier construction for shipping, but a box is a box."
"I take it that the Capitol prevented you?"
"Yes." Dr. Galen removed a pair of surgical gloves from the cabinet and tucked them into a pocket. "President Snow called me directly. He said that the fallen tributes can only have simple pine coffins, but I can have my equipment and use of cold storage on the trains."
Dr. Verus joined his senior at the cabinet to collect gloves and eye protection. "Cheap coffins seem odd considering the extravagance shown before the games."
"It's all part of the message that the Capitol wants to send to the districts."
The main double doors burst open with a loud commotion, startling both doctors. Pushing a hospital stretcher, two Peacekeepers entered the morgue with a black body bag.
The guards rolled the stretcher along side the metal table and swiftly transferred the bag over. As quickly as they had arrived, the Peacekeepers exited with the stretcher without speaking a word.
Donning their surgical gloves, both doctors approach the table, one on either side. They silently stare at the lifeless body bag.
Dr. Verus visually studied the black bag, finding the material worn and scratched with signs of repair. He found that the zipper handle had been replaced with a piece of wire attached to the mechanism. The young doctor then noticed that Dr. Galen stood still with eyes shut. Briefly studying his mentor, he cleared his throat with a gentle cough. "Are you praying, doctor?"
Dr. Galen's eyes opened, her expression sullen. "What do you think?"
His eyes drifted away without answering.
"Help me remover her from the bag." Dr. Galen pulled the zipper along the length of the bag, revealing a soiled young woman dressed in the uniform assigned to her before entering the arena. The doctor gently reached under the shoulders and lifted as Dr. Verus slid the bag free to the waist. Dr. Galen next positioned an arm under the torso whence the other doctor pulled the body bag towards the legs until free from the body.
The doctors surveyed the slightly malnourished female tribute. Below the ribs, a large bloodstain covered the right chest, staining downward along the right trouser leg towards the knee. Just below the eye, a deep scratch on the girl's face appeared to have been recently bleeding.
Dr. Verus briefly scanned the ceiling above the autopsy table. "Do you have a dictation device?"
"No. The Capitol only wants a death certificate."
"Do you make an autopsy report?"
Dr. Galen sighed. "I create a brief report for my records, but I don't think the government cares. They have never asked to see them." The senior retrieved a small computer tablet from a small desk and held the device over the dead girl's arm. "The tracking device implanted into her arm positively identifies her as Pandora Spiga." After returning the computer tablet to the desk, Dr. Galen took gentle hold of the girl's wrist and searched for a pulse. After a few seconds, the doctor removed a stethoscope from a front scrub pocket and placed the chest piece over the tribute's heart. Dropping the stethoscope back into her pocket, the doctor stepped back from the table. "I pronounce Miss Pandora Spiga officially dead. I will use the Hunger Games logs to mark the official time since the tracking devices record the exact time of cardiac arrest."
When Dr. Verus noticed the stillness of his colleague, her focus fixed on Pandora's face, the young doctor began to fidget. "Well…I'll start cutting free her clothes."
"Dr. Verus, how is a person measured?" Dr. Galen leaned forward, against the table. "This is my first question for you."
With a heavy brow, Dr. Verus gazed down upon the body. "I assume that we're not speaking length."
Dr. Galen's face remained unchanged. "Were not."
The resident glanced at the girl's face. "My first guess would be by her accomplishments, but I already know this answer to be incorrect." He looked up at Dr. Galen. "Does this question have one particular answer?"
"I have only one in mind, but there are many answers."
"But only one is the correct answer?"
Free of emotion, Dr. Galen continued to stare at her assistant.
"Well..." Dr. Verus took a step towards the head of the table. "Here lies Pandora Spiga, a 16-year-old girl from District Nine, one of the victims of the 72nd Hunger Games."
The senior doctor nodded once in agreement.
"She may be too young to be measured. I know so little about her, and her television interview was brief—just like the other interviews during the run up to the games. I don't even know if she has brothers or sisters."
Dr. Galen solemnly stared at Pandora's face. "She has an older sister named Madison."
The young doctor gave an inquisitive expression.
"The newspaper has extensive bios for all of them. I read them all while I wait for the Games to start." Dr. Galen stepped to the side of the room and began moving a rolling cart topped with a surgical tray closer to the autopsy table. She next removed two medical crash scissors and handed one pair to the chief resident.
When Dr. Verus observed his senior cutting free the jacket, he promptly moved to the legs and began cutting the laces on the boots. "Do their bios list everything, such as their favorite color?"
Cutting Pandora's short along the sides, Dr. Galen replied, "Red. Her favorite color was red."
After removing the boots and socks, Dr. Verus began cutting up the trouser legs. "Dr. Galen, may I take my time answering your question?"
"You may."
After the doctors removed all the clothing and piled the soiled remnants to the side, Dr. Verus visually inspected the wound below the ribs. "Do you have to give an official cause of death?"
"No. The Capital automatically fills in the word Tribute as the cause of death. I do note the actual cause for my report."
The male doctor leaned closer and pulled the skin apart just enough to measure the wound. "She was stabbed by a large blade. The blade must have severed a major artery judging from the blood loss."
Dr. Galen lifted the surgical tray from the rolling table. "We need to tie off or repair the severed vessels for embalming. Do you mind doing it?"
Dr. Verus quickly straightened. "I can."
"Good. Everything you need is on this tray. As you perform the repairs, I'll set Pandora's facial features." Dr. Galen then stepped to the head of the table as the resident began preparing his surgical tray.
Before commencing repairs, he diagnosed the damage. "It was the portal vein and the hepatic artery. The inferior vena cava suffered damage too. I'll repair them for the embalming."
"Thank you." Dr. Galen did a visual inspection of Pandora's mouth before fixing it shut. She next retrieved two eye caps and lifted the first eyelid, setting the cap in place. Upon lifting the second eyelid, the senior doctor became transfixed as she stared into Pandora's lifeless eye.
The chief resident noticed the silence and peered up. He leaned forward and glanced at Pandora's exposed iris. "That's a lovely shade of green."
Dr. Galen looked away briefly. "Um…yes. Green such as hers is a rarity." The senior physician proceeded to place the eye cap under the lid before assuring that Pandora's face looked at rest.
Dr. Verus continued with his repairs. "I suppose you don't have to do much about facial hair."
"The girls are too young, and I don't bother with the boys since I'm not a true mortician."
"What about the scratch on her left cheek? Do you ever try to hide or cover them?"
"No. We just clean them," replied Dr. Galen as she began inspecting Pandora's ears to make sure they were clear of debris.
"Why not? You clearly show these kids immense respect."
Slowly, Dr. Galen straightened her stance. "Dr. Verus, you already know why."
The chief resident stretched his back, deep in thought. He turned to his mentor. "Because covering the wounds is akin to lying. Doctors don't lie to the patients or to the families…or to the dead."
"Correct. We just clean them the best we can for their journey home. Unfortunately, this is all we can do."