Ivan Fresco stood at the doorway of Secretary Lincoln's office. She was on the phone with the President. Ivan knocked at the door and pushed his way in. Light of the very early morning was slowly making it's way through the brilliant blue tapestry of the curtains that hang over the windows facing the mountains. Secretary Lincoln sat at her desk, wearing a light green dress and silver earrings.
She looked very tired, and held the phone with a tight grip, making her knuckles appear white. There were hundreds of papers and different files strewn across her desk, and her wastebasket was overflowing.
"Mrs. President, I understand. No, I understand, I'll tell them. Don't worry Mrs. President. Just stay where you are and spend the day with Coriolanus, there's no need for you to come. I can handle it. The meeting will take place at noon. I'm sure the Council will be willing to make the trip. Alright. Goodbye Mrs. President."
Secretary Lincoln sighed as she set down the phone. She wiped her brow with a handkerchief, and started shuffling through the pages on her desk. Ivan cleared his throat. Secretary Lincoln looked up and noticed him standing there for the first time.
"I apologize Ivan, it's just been a long night. President Snow is not doing well, and the Rebels are just now finally coming to terms with the fact that they've lost. Small uprisings in Districts 8 and 11 are being extinguished now, and 13 is a smoldering mess. On the outside at least. Council met with their delegates last week, and they agreed to stage the bombing. District 13 is now officially it's own, independent country. I'm glad council could finally agree on something. Now, what is it that you need?"
"I heard last night about the bill being proposed by Secretary Quincy. Is he really trying to win over the Council with that ludicrous plan? It's barbaric!"
"How did you hear about that? The proposition meeting was of Level 5 security clearance, and only the Council and Secretaries were allowed in the Hall."
"I have my sources Evelyn, you know that. Just because I'm no longer a Council member, it doesn't mean I don't socialize with them." Lincoln closes her mouth and her lips form a distinct purse of aggravation.
"Well, I assume you understand what that phone call was about then." she says with disdain. She walks around her desk past Ivan and closes the door. "Have a seat Mr. Fresco." She then goes to her desk, and presses a button on the underside of the wooden panel. A small translucent screen pops up in between them, and a video begins.
The video shows a large ornate room with hundreds of seats around the edge, forming a large crescent shape. At the stage in the front part of the room stands a man.
"Hello, and Good Evening. Many of you know me, but for those who do not, I am Secretary Cornelius Quincy. Tonight, I have a Bill to propose to you. This bill will forever ensure that the Capitol has control over the now 12 remaining Districts of the mighty country of Panem. This Bill will strike fear in the hearts of all the district citizens, keeping them from ever revolting again. This Bill is entitled the Treaty of Treason. I will read to you what I have to offer." Quincy pauses as he unrolls a small scroll with words written on it in black ink.
"From the ashes of a desolate place once deemed North America, rose Panem; a nation made up of a great Capitol ringed by 13 districts which brought peace and prosperity to its citizens for many generations. Then came the Dark Days, the uprising of the districts against the Capitol. The shining light of our nation was clouded by war. Terrible war. The 13 districts rebelled against the Capitol that has fed them, loved them, protected them. Their revolt has left this country in tatters. After a long struggle in which many died, there came a hard-won peace. Twelve districts were defeated, the thirteenth obliterated. The traitors were at last suppressed, and we as a nation swore we would never allow such treason again. Thus in penance for their uprising, it has been decreed that as a yearly reminder that the Dark Days must never occur again, each year the districts must offer up in tribute, one young male and female between the ages 12 and 18 at a public "reaping". These tributes shall then be delivered into the custody of the Capitol, and finally transferred into an outdoor arena to fight to the death in a pageant of honor, courage, and sacrifice. The lone victor is to be bathed in riches, and will serve as a reminder of the Capitol's generosity and forgiveness. This is how we will remember our past. This is how we will safeguard our future. Henceforth and forevermore, this pageant shall be known as The Hunger Games."
The room is in silence as Secretary Quincy steps down from the stage. There is murmuring among the Council members. The President steps up onto the stage, wearing a bright white pantsuit with a black dress shirt underneath. She assistance getting up onto the stage. Her make-up is done well, but it still cannot hide the disease that is taking a toll on her body.
"Thank you, Mr. Secretary. Now Council, you understand how we must go about this. You will be given 14 days to decide if you're for or against this Bill. We will vote next meeting. Good night, and remember, Panem Today," she pauses, and looks out into the crowd as it joins her in finishing it, "Panem Tomorrow, Panem Forever."
The video ends, and Ivan sits there stunned. He looks at Secretary Lincoln with a cold stare. She turns to him with an expression of sadness. She rubs her eyes, and stands up, and opens the curtains a bit. She stands there for quite a while in silence.
"Maybe he's right Ivan. Maybe something brutal is needed in order to keep the Districts under control. Maybe it's the only thing that will convince them that war is not an option in this state. We have a population hovering around 3 million. If a nuclear bomb were to be detonated, I don't think-"
"Evelyn, these are people. Children! What Quincy is talking about is kidnapping children of the districts, and placing them in an arena to kill each other! How are we to just sit by and let that happen? They may have rebelled against us, but it doesn't mean they're not human! Maybe if we didn't act like such dictators, they would listen to us! We could work together to fix this! Get district delegates, have the mayors come here to the capitol for a monthly meeting, I don't know! This just isn't right! President Phaedra will never agree to this!" He stands and walks over to the window where she stands, silent.
Outside, the sun is still low in the sky, and the only people out in the plaza is peacekeepers. Nobody from the Capitol would be up this early unless it was important. He then notices what she's looking at. There in the middle of the plaza sits a recently landed hovercraft. It has the Capitol's seal on the side. It's small, and appears to be the Presidential hovercraft.
"What is she doing here?" Evelyn asks. She is answered by the door to the office bursting open. There stands Lucian Snow, he looks very tired, surrounded by person guards with guns. He walks quickly up to Lincoln.
"She's in bad shape Evelyn. Phaedra is in bad, bad shape. She's on her way to the Hospital. I'm here to see if you can call a meeting among the Secretaries, I would conduct one myself, but I need to be with her now, if you don't mind."
"Of course, of course, Secretary Snow, is there anything else you need? Where is Coriolanus? Is he with his grandmother?"
"Yes. I need to go, I'll contact you if anything happens." Lucian turns and quickly walks away. The guards nod at him, and then follow him out, closing the door behind them as they had found it.
"This is not good Ivan. This is not good. Phaedra is not going to make it much longer, and we all know it. This meeting will be important, no it's not just a meeting anymore. It's an election." She turns and walks towards behind her desk and grabs her coat from her desk. "I'm sure you can find you're way out. This meeting is for Council and Secretaries only, I'm sorry."
She rushes out the door, and half runs to the reception desk in the lobby. She asks the woman sitting there wearing a bright orange dress with a white wig with orange highlights to contact the entire Council and the Secretaries.
Evelyn Lincoln turns the corner and opens the large mahogany doors to the Hall of Panem. She stands at the podium and waits for the Council and Secretaries to file into the room. About 10 minutes later, the room is nearly full. As the last of them file in, she opens the meeting.
"Hello ladies and gentlemen. I've called you all here today on Emergency level 9, because our dear President Phaedra Snow is in intensive care. According to the Presidential Treaty of Power, in a time of great distress, in which the current president is in a medical disaster, a new leader must be appointed until either the president in said disaster is healed, or should pass away. Now is that time. This meeting is an emergency Inauguration of the 17th President of Panem. As you may know, all Secretaries are automatically entered onto the ballots, but Council members may be added if another member nominates them. Any nominations?"
The room is silent. The faces of the Council members and Secretaries are plastered with confusion and extreme despair. No one nominates anyone.
"Alright, then let us continue. Each member of Council and Secretary will get a single vote. Please fill out the form on your desks, and place it in the ballot box up in front of the stage. Thank you." Secretary Lincoln steps down, nervously rubbing her hands. There were seriously corrupt people in the position of Secretary. Bad, bad people who could lead this country into a dark place.
Slowly, everyone fills out the form, and puts it into the ballot box. Soon, everyone had done so, and they sit impatiently waiting for the verdict. The door at the back of the room bursts open, and Head Peacekeeper Kingsbury enters followed by a squad of Peacekeepers.
"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Council, I must regrettably announce to you, that the 16th President of Panem, President Phaedra Eleanor Snow, has died from brain cancer. I apologize for interrupting you." He then turns 180 degrees and they file out the door. The large and ornate mahogany door shuts with a loud thud. The noise echoes through the Hall, as the group sits in silence.
One of the women counting the ballots walks to Secretary Lincoln, and whispers something in her ear, and hands her a blank envelope. Lincoln walks up onto the stage, her hands shaking from all that had happened that day. She stands at the podium, looking out into the crowd of people, anxiously awaiting the person's name in that was in the envelope.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, the 17th President of the Country of Panem is-" she slowly rips the seal on the envelope, being careful not to shake too much. She takes out the manila colored paper folded inside the envelope, and slowly unfolds it. "Secretary Cornelius Quincy."