Chapter 1

The moon and stars are visible, with dark, billowing clouds. A distant shimmer of light becomes a glowing but not transparent structure stretching off into the clouds that pass it. The detailed structural webbing of the Capitol. Shining below the Capitol which is a series of dome-like structures standing off without end. A marvelous crystalline city of great openness, building clusters, green plazas, fountains… multi-leveled but human scale, crisscrossed by the flickering clear tubes of the maze cars. As a maze car slides

softly to a stop. The hatch opens and a man in a hurry leaves the maze car and runs swiftly along the roof top and disappears into an open elevator which instantly starts to descend. From a busy courtyard below the elevator slides down from a great height. As it reaches the courtyard the Tribute darts out, pushes into the crowd. As he reappears around a corridor which happens to lead out of the courtyard. He is moving even faster now, glancing back as if he fears pursuit. Above, at the railing of an oval light well,

dressed in black and silver, a figure holding an odd looking weapon lazily in one hand and watching. It is Cato. Moving rapidly down the corridor, he stops as if feeling the presence above. He looks up, sees the Career and his face breaks in terror. He wheels, frantic, screaming, runs back into the hall. Vaulting the rail, dropping lightly to the ground level, weapon poised. The crowd melting, parting to reveal the Tribute backed against the pool. People are yelling, shaking their fists, terribly excited and fearful.

Emotionless . Aims. Fires. Seeming to burst aflame, Cato sauntering forward holstering his weapon. The crowd closing in behind him. Arriving at the pool where the body lies half immersed. He leans over, lifts the right hand from the water, revealing a palm with a black flower crystal shape in it. He lets the hand fall back now as the crowd cheers and applauds him. Clear, sparkling, flower-like. The crystal is in the hand of a sleeping infant who is behind glass in one of many cubicles. Standing outside, looking in,

Peeta, dimly lit in the soft glow of the cubicle where the infant lies, swaddled and cocooned in the rosy auto tender which caterers to the baby's very need. Peeta is twenty five, strong, virile yet sensitive with a kind of austere grace. He is somewhat manic… proud… as he peers through the nursery window into a kind of foam cocoon which cradles three sleeping infants. Peeta is knocking on the soundless glass. "Wake up… come on, Peeta 6." Cato entering. Cato shaking his head in mild, mocking disbelief. "You are

here. I couldn't believe it when they told me. What are you doing?" Peeta still knocking on the soundless glass. "Turn this way." As one of the infants stirs, smiles, bubbles. "No, no…not…you….YOU!" Cato tries to pull Peeta away from the window, but Peeta is intent on waking one of the infants. "You should've seen me take my last Tribute…perfect." Peeta continues to pound the soundless glass. "I backed him up against a residence pool and when he terminated... his hand…" Cato breaks off as Peeta is paying no

attention. "So now you've seen him…what's the difference awake or asleep?" Peeta to infant. Open your eyes idiot." To Cato. "It's not every day that a Career son is born. I'm telling you, Cato that's him!" "Maybe, maybe not. What's the difference? Come on, Peeta, let's get out of here before everybody finds out." But Peeta isn't moving. Cato gets an idea. "Okay…you really want to wake him up?"