THE ANDROMEDA POSITION

A District Four Tale by Vyrazhi, ©2013

Peacekeeper Marquise and Creneis Town created by Anla'shok, ©2013. Used with permission.

~ Andrea Rybakova, Age Seven, Villager of Creneis ~

"Oh, I'm a little fishy, darting through the sea. Glub, glub, glub. Look at me!" I love singing that song when Mama lets me go swimming on break time. I help her in her store, Shells and Sundries (what are those?). It's fun except when I have to scrub the floor. Salt and sand get everywhere, and you wouldn't believe how many people don't wear shoes - even in a nice shop like ours. Mama tries to shoo them out and tell them to at least put on some sandals, but then they start looking around for things to buy and she forgets.

"As long as they have money and we have wares to sell, the customers are always right," she says. Why can't they be right and have clean feet? I scour the sand off of mine until they're red before I enter. For now, though, there are no such things as dirty floors and sandy toes - just me and the deep, blue sea.

"GLUB, GLUB, GLUB!" I call out. Right now, she's staring at some pelicans who are diving for fish, far out along the horizon.I yell that part of my song so she can watch me blow bubbles in the water. I can swim better than this. So can everybody here in District Four, but Mama is very scared of undertows. She says that those can pull you beneath the waves and sweep you out to sea. If that happens to me, all that she can ever hope to see is a flash of my little blonde head! So I stick to the shallows, even though I'd much rather swim out further. Other kids' parents let them do that; why can't mine? I guess it's because after what happened to Dad, Mama's alone and doesn't have anyone else to help her. Sure, there's Ethan, who stocks shelves, but she doesn't love him. She doesn't want the sea to claim me, too, and that's that.

"I see you, Andrea," Mama says happily, pronouncing my name ahn-DRAY-ya. "Be my little mermaid!"

I flip over on my back, put my wet legs together, and flail them up into the air like a fish's tail. Giggling, I try to splash Mama, but only stir up little billows of sea foam. Drat! I'm just not out far enough, as usual.

We laugh and play for a while longer, with my tail trying to get Mama's legs wet, until she says, "Time to get cleaned up and go back in. I have a special task for you once our customers clear out a little."

She's talking in the sweet voice that she uses when I have to do a certain chore I hate: "Not again."

"Don't worry. It's called 'accounting', not 'swabbing the deck'." I wrinkle my nose playfully at the sailor's term, and then look confused because I don't know what accounting is. "You're getting high marks in Math and English at school. I want to show you how I keep track of who buys which goods, and what they cost. I also want you to see the money we make, called our income, and what we spend, called our expenses." All of this sounds exciting and interesting, but also a little scary. Does Mama really trust me that much, to have me learn about handling money as well as eager shoppers? "You'll do well, sweetie. I trust you with my life. Why shouldn't I trust you with our finances, or at least teach you the basics of managing them?"

I grin, itching to get started, but then remember something: "Wait! Can I climb some rocks first, please?"

"May I climb some rocks first," corrects Mama, and I start jumping up and down. "Yes, but be careful."

I run over to the nearest ones and promise myself that I'll go as high as I possibly can, higher than I've ever been before. The rocks on the bottom are either slippery or covered with sharp barnacles, but I step over them and into an empty tide pool. From there, I find a foothold and start climbing hand over hand up the side of another rock face. This is one that I've never been able to scale completely, but today I will.

As I climb, however, I spot two strange iron rings dangling from a space in the stone. They're totally black with rust and seawater, and I'm almost afraid to touch them. When I do, one of the rings comes apart, but only halfway. An icy shiver wriggles down my spine, because I suddenly know what these are: chains. Chains for criminals and bad people who get in trouble in our District. Why have them up here, though? Why not lock them in jail, instead of to a high place - not quite a cliff - by the ocean? I don't understand.

"Andrea!" Mama calls, her voice drifting on the warm and salty breeze toward me. "Please come down!"

This time I don't hesitate, because I don't want to stay up here and around those chains anymore. They scare me, even though I know I haven't done anything wrong. I decide not to tell Mama about them.

~ Nine Years Later, Year Nine, Two Months before the Ninth Annual Hunger Games ~

"Today's your lucky day, Peacekeeper Marquise. Your cosmetics came in early." I smile at the newest (and my favorite) member of Panem's law-enforcement brigade. Up until now I've been wary of the men and women in white, but Marquise is great. She doesn't sneer at me like I'm a scrap of seaweed, like some Peacekeepers in Creneis do because I'm only a shopkeeper's daughter. They think they're so great, but the only reason is that they can legally beat the tar out of anyone who crosses them - and they do. Fortunately for me, Mama and Ethan, all they've done so far is inspect for contraband items at our shop. They haven't found any. They never will, either, because we're not one of those shady stores that - well…

"Anything suspicious?" I shake my head 'no', and I'm telling the truth. I'd never lie to Marquise. "Good. We've been having increased problems with vandalism and petty crime lately, and I'd hate to think the worst." Especially of you, her tone says, but her mouth does not. "How much do I owe you, Rybakova?"

I tell her the total, and she winks as she picks up her delivery. "I love looking good. My noble colleagues just don't understand that a woman's got to do what a woman's got to do. Right?" I nod enthusiastically, wearing lipstick and blush myself. Shadow always makes my eyelids itch. "Hey, want to hear a joke?"

"Sure! Just make sure we're cleared out." I lower my voice on the last two words. Her jests aren't for kids.

"What did the ship's captain say to the 'public girl'?" Marquise whispers.

"By law, you're only a fairy tale?" I follow suit, because unlike mermaids, "public girls" are a myth in District Four that you're not supposed to mention. Although I haven't seen any, I'm certain they exist. Why else would quite a few men in Creneis sneak out to the docks after curfew? There's nothing out there but sea and anchored ships, both of which are boring in the black of night, and drinking's not nearly enough fun.

Marquise puts a hand on her right hip, juts it out, and talks like a pirate: "Shimmy my mainmast, will you?"

I slap both of my hands over my mouth to keep from bursting out laughing. Mama's in the back room, sorting inventory while I wait on customers, and I don't want her to overhear. I've become what she calls a "young lady", although at this age, my desires are anything but ladylike. I shouldn't be laughing at jokes like this and what they imply, but that doesn't mean they're not hilarious. "That was your best one yet!"

To my horror, Mama peeks her head out of the storage room. "Peacekeeper? May I be of assistance?"

"Morning, ma'am. Andrea's already given me my order, but thank you." She smiles and turns to leave.

"Just a minute," I call after her. "Will you please show me some of your hardest self-defense moves?"

"I can't; I have to go out on patrol in fifteen minutes. That gives me just enough time to put my face on, but not much more. Tell you what: how about tomorrow after your shop closes? I've got a few leisure hours."

"Oh, you don't have to -" Marquise gives me a come on, don't be so self-effacing look. "Great! Until then." As she departs from Shells and Sundries, there's an eerie silence in the air that makes me think I've made a terrible mistake. Mama's concerned look doesn't help, either. "Is something wrong?" I ask timidly.

She pulls me inside the inventory room and leans in close. "What would she think if she knew, Andrea?"

My blood runs cold. "She'd close down our store for sure," I croak, and Mama nods. "Maybe even worse."

"Men cannot live on bread alone," she murmured in my ear, "or by fish, either. They need clothes, soap, candles, medicine, and all the other things we offer at Shells and Sundries. We do offer luxuries, too, but only to keep the Peacekeepers and wealthy people in Creneis on our good side. Don't get too friendly with them. They're not like us. They are our enemies, especially the ubiquitous attack hounds in white." After a long pause, she continued, "If she ever found out that we're withholding goods from the Capitol -"

"We'd be beaten. Flogged. I know the drill, and that's why we're hiding the real accounting books. Still, it's worth it to help all the people around us in need." I suddenly snorted, angry at myself for liking Marquise. "What do Peacekeepers know about hunger, and full schedules on empty stomachs? She may love her makeup, but how can she flaunt it when so many of us can't even disguise open sores very well? I only wear it to lure customers in here, and - well, that's not true. I'm so greedy." Mama gave me a quick hug.

"You're not greedy. You're a beautiful teenage girl who wants to make herself more beautiful, but why?" She rubbed my head with her fist, made a zip your lips gesture, and went to the front of the shop with me.

~ 5:45 AM ~

Two rough hands clamp down over my mouth and nose.

Two more grab my arms, pulling them together, and two more grasp my bare feet. Wearing only a light chemise, I'm hauled out of bed and my own house, yet I'm too frightened to scream. This is a nightmare, a bad dream like the ones I had as a child. All I have to do is wake up. However, why are my eyes open?

"By the sea, by the sea, by the beautiful sea," sings a male voice, and this time I almost do scream. It's Peacekeeper Pyxis, and he's the one making sure I can barely breathe. I try to wriggle away, but I can't. I try to bite and then kick, but both of these efforts prove equally futile. "Keep still, or I'll suffocate you."

This isn't happening. It's just a mirage, an illusion, like the shadows you see under a full moon. There was a magnificent one out last night, and it pains me to think that it may be the last one I'll ever see. Two men and one woman in white are carrying me like a ship's cargo toward the ocean, and it doesn't take long to reach the rather secluded area where we swim at our leisure. No, not here! I know what's here! No…

"Hoist her up," the female Peacekeeper says gruffly, named after a loathsome sea creature: Echidna. It pushes its organs to the outside of its slimy body in order to disgust predators, and that's exactly what I wish I could do right now. "Nice day, isn't it, Andrea - or should I say, Andromeda?" Her smile is a rictus.

The full terror of what's about to happen dawns on me as my wrists are clamped into the same black irons I'd discovered nine long years ago. Peacekeeper Pyxis binds my feet with rope as well so I can't kick.

"Talk," the third Peacekeeper barks, a man by the last name of Argo. "Ten minutes until high tide, and you're not quite high enough. If you stay silent, you'll drown, although we'll gag you before the water does."

I have no stomach anymore. Like an echidna's guts, it has been exposed directly to the sea and fallen out. "Where's Mama?" I want to shriek for all my lungs are worth, but all that comes out of my mouth is a rasp.

"Fast asleep, thanks to chloroform," Argo says wryly. "Now, tell me, Rybakova: Where are the books?"

"We have a few for sale at Shells and Sundries. Which ones are your favorites? Mysteries? Adventure?"

"Wrong answer." Peacekeeper Echidna steps forward and slaps me first on my right cheek, then the left. "Where are the real books, the ones you and your mother use for accounting? The ones that prove guilt?"

"The only guilt is yours," I hiss through clenched teeth, "for starving people who are already hungry -" The wind is abruptly knocked out of me by a blinding punch to the belly I no longer have, but it still feels pain. My mouth drops open, as if my jaw has come unhinged. I can barely breathe again, let alone confess!

"Nice work, Argo," Pyxis snarls. "You always were one for knocking people speechless. Let's let the tide deal with her, before our people get curious and want to deal with us. Where's Marquise, by the way?"

"I sent her on early patrol," Echidna answers, "because I think she likes this one. I'll stand guard. You two go." The men offer her the salute of Panem and depart, all too glad not to witness this spectacle. When they're gone, she points at my chemise. "Hey, I can see your nipples through your nightdress. I should drag you off to court for indecent exposure. Uh-oh, here comes a wave!" It crashes over my limp form. "Warm enough for you?" When she sees I'm visibly shivering, she says, "You'd better come clean, then."

"What do you care if some bars of soap and seashell sculptures are missing from Capitol shipments, eh?" I'm surprised at how many words are cascading from my mouth, which has a cut. "Also, you're drenched."

"Am I? Gee, I never noticed." The Peacekeeper's glare is lethal, but I don't perish yet. "Listen: those aren't the only things that are missing. Food, clothing, whale oil, luxuries - they should have been transported to the Capitol by now, but they haven't been. I don't much care about the piddling items you mentioned, but I do care about my job. If I lose it, I'll be just as hungry as the pathetic pieces of beggar scum you think you care about! Let me tell you something, shop-sweeper. Entitlement is a deadly belief here in Panem. If you think you're special, the ocean will prove to you that you're not. Its tides don't care whom they engulf."

I close my eyes, with salt-encrusted eyelashes, and fall silent. Another ice-cold wave crests above me.

"Do you want me to flog you right here? Do you want me to make you bleed?" I can barely hear Echidna. "Do you think that just because I'm a woman, I'll be gentle and won't do this to you? You're wrong." She reaches into her weapons belt and pulls out a real whip, as was used in the days before Panem, or so I've heard. Then she shakes her head. "No, you're not worth my time. You'll soon be dead, but just in case - one last chance." She smiles sweetly, like Mama does, which makes her all the scarier. "Come on, now."

I say not a word. If I'm going to be chained like Andromeda, I'll die like her, with no Perseus to rescue me. The place deepest inside myself is empty, as it should be, and it shall be filled with nothing but the sea.

"Damn you!" Echidna rips a band of cloth off of her right arm, gags me, and then flees the scene angrily.

~ 6:02 AM ~

Eyes closed. Hold your breath - NOW. One, one thousand, two, one thousand, three, one thousand.

How long will it be until Mother wakes up and finds me? She's the only one who comes to this little cove.

Four, one thousand, five, one thousand, six, one thousand.

I can barely feel my body now, except that it's wet and frigid. Do I have individual limbs? I can't remember.

Bite through gag. Can't. When it's soaked with seawater like this, it gets more rigid, not softer! Try again!

Relax. Relax. Relax. That's…it.

Sixty. Sixty-one. Sixty-two. Sixty-three. Two more. Minutes. Two more. Must last. Two more.

My head is suddenly slammed against the rocks by a forceful wave, and I feel a trickle of blood form on it.

~ 6:03 AM ~

Drowning is quite painful in its early stages. Have you ever had water go upward into your nasal passages? Imagine that pain and discomfort magnified one hundredfold, and you have what the onslaught of any gush into your respiratory system feels like. Add salt to said water, and it's agony. As in now.

~ 6:04 AM ~

"What the hell? Rybakova?! Is that you up there? Oh, no, no, stay with me, I'm getting you down now -"

~ 7:00 AM ~

A blur of tears. A hazy, white environment. Soft sheets. A face, but I can't tell whose. Where am I?

"Andrea? It's me, Peacekeeper Marquise. Your mother's here. You're in the hospital. You're safe."

"The books." Those two words are all I can muster through my parched mouth and salt-seared throat.

"Shhhh. It's all right. Just rest now, and we can talk about it later. I'm so glad - I mean, we almost lost -"

We…lost? No, we won…

The last things that I see before blackness engulfs me are the faces of Marquise's fellow Peacekeepers.

FIN 7-2-13