Suzanne Collins is acknowledged as the creator of the Hunger Games characters and story.
This third series of 6 or 7 part stories is a sequel to Katniss and Cato: Love in Dangerous Waters s/10188003/1/ and Katniss and Cato: Love in Dangerous Times s/10504936/1/ , but can also be read as a standalone series.
Episode 1: Preparations
1.1: Only myself to blame
I gently rub the scented oil over my skin, taking care to cover all the difficult to reach places. I've only myself to blame for having to go through these preparations once a week, although I hadn't expected to be doing so this week. I had a bet with Cato that I could describe how a young woman should be properly prepared for the delectation of her man. I boasted it would please him more than the numerous preparations described in the ornate book Zoe's grandmother translated for us. 'The Journal of the Harem-keeper of Prince Ahmed's Harem' has a new addition; written by yours truly, Katniss Everdeen. I won my bet.
Not that I mind doing this in the least. The effect on Cato is incredible and his reaction makes all my effort worthwhile. If I once thought the presence of our baby daughter, Katniss Christine … or Kaycee as we have started calling her … might restrict Cato and my lovemaking in any way, then that myth was soon dispelled. Obviously Cato and my time spent in passion has altered somewhat over the last three months since Kaycee's birth. It is difficult to ignore Kaycee when she wants a feed even when I'm lost in the throws of passion. And handling a smelly diaper can be a real passion killer. But Cato and I have adapted. While our games aren't quite as noisy and rough as they once were, they are still very physical and every bit as satisfying.
Having two Katniss Everdeen's in the family can be confusing. Cato is partly to blame when he took my surname when we were legally married, rather than I taking his. Of course, if President Snow and all his supporters have their way, there will soon be only one Katniss Everdeen anyway. My execution for murder and treason should have occurred at Fort Centennial two days after I gave birth to Kaycee. But the announcement of the selection criteria for the 75th Hunger Games forced a major change of plan. I'm the only person eligible to be the female tribute for District Twelve, and even then only after President Snow formally quashed my death sentence and annulled all criminal charges against me for my involvement in the failed winter uprising in District Eight. I've been free for nearly three months. I don't delude myself into thinking I will be allowed to repeat what happened at the end of the 74th Hunger games and escape from the arena. Nor do I believe President Snow and the Gamemakers will ever allow me to be the victor of the 75th Hunger Games. I'm mentally prepared for what awaits me. Not that I intend to meekly allow them to kill me. I do have a few tricks up my sleeve.
The only restriction on my movements since my release from Fort Centennial is the requirement for me to report once a week to either the army or the peacekeepers. The Gamemakers are paranoid that I might try to escape. I concede that I am a danger to their fragile plans for the 75th Hunger Games, but not in the way they think. When the selection criteria for the 75th Hunger Games were announced, the Gamemakers panicked in full view of the television viewers all across Panem. They had reason to panic. Someone had overridden their sophisticated security system and changed the tribute selection criteria without their knowledge. As a result there's a new head Gamemaker; Plutarch Heavensbee. When I first heard the announcement of the selection criteria, I was as baffled as the Gamemakers about why President Snow would sanction what was publicly announced. Not that I am complaining. It was the only thing that prevented my execution. After I returned with Cato to our new home at Beacon Hill in District Eight, I realised I was the unwitting instigator of the change; with Nadia's help.
Anyone looking at Nadia will see a tall blond haired seventeen year old girl. She's pretty, at least compared to your average district girl, and unlike the girls from the Capitol, where Nadia lived before fleeing to District Eight, her beauty is natural. But looks can be deceiving. Nadia isn't even human. She's a biological supercomputer; an Artificial Reproducing Intelligent Environment … or ARIE for short. She and her two sisters, Ariadne and Pandora, are the only ARIEs in Panem. Ariadne created the virtual arena at the end of the 74th Hunger Games and the virtual worlds used at Le Chat Noir, a pleasure house in the Capitol specialising in such forms of entertainment. Le Chat Noir's owner, Sarah, and Ariadne have been "guests" of the military at Fort Centennial, who want them to secretly build a virtual arena for the 75th Hunger Games.
My relationship with Nadia, and to a lesser extent Ariadne, is special. Not because I'm in any way clever or knowledgeable about supercomputers, but because I possess a natural ability to create daemons. Earlier generations of ARIE were modified from their peaceful purpose of managing the worldwide production and distribution of food and power, to make then suitable for military use. The modification involved adding something called sigma keys which both control the ARIE and disable the ARIE's free will. When their sigma keys are activated the ARIE will only accept orders from someone in authority. Someone who can create a daemon. Someone like me.
Of course I don't actually create a daemon out of nothing. Nadia says what I'm really doing is cross-dimensional transfer. She tried explaining what that means, but I decided I can cope with concept of "creating" daemons much easier. My two daemons appear from time to time. The black cat which I first created during the 74th Hunger Games interacts with Ariadne, while Stefan, a huge hunk of a man, interacts with Nadia. I don't overuse my access to either Nadia or Ariadne's sigma keys as they are really powerful and my blundering about with them could have unintended and devastating consequences.
I need to be very careful when it comes to interacting with Ariadne. Neither Sarah nor the army know she is the ARIE they know they possess. They believe a fancy looking box with lots of flashing lights is the ARIE. If the army discover Ariadne is the ARIE then they will be well on the road to gaining full control over her considerable powers, with dire consequences for the people of Panem's twelve districts.
Cato, Kaycee and I have quarters at Beacon Hill where Cato and Nadia both work. Cato is a training instructor, and Nadia is the Colonel's personal assistant. Officially Beacon Hill is a military base, but it has a rather strange existence in that the base was supposed to have closed twenty years ago. The colonel of the base uses it as a personal residence for his huge extended family. The army is oblivious to the anomaly and the Colonel makes sure things stay that way.
One of the Colonel's daughters, Christine Paylor, lead the failed uprising in District Eight last winter. The peacekeepers ruthlessly crushed the uprising and executed Christine after a farce of a trial. I was also tried and found guilty of murder and treason at the same trial. My escape from death is a miracle I wish Christine could have shared. Changes have come as a result of Christine's tragic death. Her father now uses his considerable, if not entirely legal, resources to prepare and train an increasing number of District Eight citizens for a rebellion. And the people of District Eight remember Christine's sacrifice, which saved hundreds of lives, and are determined not to fail a second time.
Of course Christine's death left a huge hole in the resistance movement's leadership. One which the peacekeepers and politicians assumed would be fatal to the movement. But they are wrong. Two local men, Slim and Frank, have managed to keep the movement together. And in the shadows, Christine's daughter, Elena, has worked day and night to train and prepare herself to take over her mother's role if and when the need arises. Elena has completed and passed a military advanced training programme few regular army officers dare to attempt. If she were actually enlisted in the army she would be well on the road to outranking her grandfather. But she isn't enlisted, so simply goes by the honorary title her grandfather bestowed upon her, Commander Paylor. But to me she is simply Elena and one of my closest friends of my age at Beacon Hill.
My other close friend is thirteen year old Zoe, another of the Colonel's granddaughters, who is now a wealthy girl after inheriting a large sum of money from her maternal great-grandfather's estate. Her new found wealth helped make it possible for Cato to spend time with me while I was held prisoner at Fort Centennial. For that I am eternally grateful.
Cato's call from our bedroom stops my reminiscing. I slip on the few clothes that complete my preparations … if you can call these tiny things clothes … and walk into the bedroom. Cato is lounging on the bed like some lord waiting for his concubine to arrive and tend to his desires. Which of course is exactly the illusion my preparations are designed to enhance. The expression on his face tells me I've played my part well. Even though I have prepared myself like this a score of times before, neither of us tire of doing this as part of our foreplay.
Cato takes my right hand and gently caresses it before extending his touch along the length of my arm. I'm already in a high state of arousal but know I must be patient. Gone are the days when either of us tolerates a quick wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am approach to sex. The denial of fulfilment is only increasing my desire even more. My glistening skin and the aroma of the scented oil are working wonders on both of us.
Cato reaches for a metal bracelet and places it on my right wrist. It's my special bracelet from my time at Fort Centennial. Cato had initially wanted to destroy it because it was a symbol of my imprisonment, but to me it is Cato's gift of life. The one which saved me from despair. Yes, it was used as an anchor for the chain which tethered me, but it replaced the far worse shackles which had shamed and humiliated me. I gladly wear this bracelet as a reminder of Cato's ingenuity and love for me.
Cato pulls me towards the bed and I can see the beast is already standing to attention, eager for my touch. I slide next to him and both our pairs are hands are soon busy working on each other.