Union of the Stars: The 220th Hunger Games

Side Stories

I've been keeping with the order the tributes are introduced in, but this story wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it.


9: Striations - Celis Alberink

The day that Celis finds out one of his friends is a Mu is the day his world grows a little dimmer.


An old hawthorn tree looms in a corner of the school's main courtyard. A sturdy fence wrapped in red strips of plastic surrounds the tree with signs warning students not to touch its branches posted on all four sides. It is a sadly practical measure, given that at least one person a year tries to climb the tree on a dare only stab themselves on the thorns protruding from the branches.

A boy is standing beneath that tree at this very moment. Celis watched him climb over the fence from a foggy window in the hallway connecting the two school buildings. He nimbly hopped over and went to stand beneath its widespread branches heavy with tiny white flowers, then touched the trunk with an outstretched hand.

Celis follows the hallway down to the double doors leading outside and pushes one open, blinking against a heavy gust of the cold spring air that flows down to District 7 from the north. It closes around his body as he steps outside and walks down the dirt path to the tree.

"Signs exist for a reason, Linden," Celis reminds his friend as he stops just outside the fence. Linden waits a moment before turning around with a shallow smile and an uncharacteristically steady gaze that puts Celis ill at ease. The last time he looked like this, his family's dog had died and for some reason he thought Celis would be a good person to cry to about it.

"Sometimes the consequences are worth breaking the rules for," Linden says. It's a phrase Celis has heard from him before. A frown instantly crosses his lips and he leans closer, over the fence, to whisper harshly in his face.

"Not if those consequences get you killed."

"The worst I'll get are a few cuts." Linden smiles, but it's a frail smile, the type that shouldn't even be expressed.

Celis leans back, crossing his arms.

"What is this really about? You have no intention of climbing that tree, do you?"

Linden shakes his head, his golden brown hair whipping around his face as he steps forward until the fence blocks his path.

"I have something I need to tell you," he says in a small voice.

"So? Tell me," Celis demands.

"It's not an easy thing to tell," Linden says with a firm glare. His wide brown eyes narrow, staring steadily into Celis's own. The conviction in them is an amorphous, but solid presence, convincing enough that Celis spares no thought to the idea that it might be a lie.

Possibilities run through Celis's mind. A secret that is difficult to tell?

Just as he is about to venture a guess, as much as he dreads this possibility, Linden reaches for him. His friend's cold fingers clasp over his right hand, almost confirming his thoughts until he feels a sharp jolt pass between them.

It's mildly painful, like someone has driven a needle and thread to connect them like two patches of cloth. Celis tries to tug his hand away, but Linden keeps a firm hold on it.

"Celis…"

Celis winces, a warm burst of confusion filling him as his name echoes in his mind. It sinks further than any other sound he has heard before, like a drop of dye spreading through a thick sheet of cloth.

"Celis, I'm a Mu."

Celis finally yanks his hand away and the connection is gone in an instant. He shivers as his mind empties of that odd presence.

Linden is smiling, achingly sad. It's the same smile as the one he gave when Celis asked why he couldn't just get another dog if he missed the old one so much.

"It wouldn't be the same," he'd said. "Don't you understand that some things can't be replaced or redone? People and animals aren't pieces of paper that you can scrap and remake if they get messed up."

Celis turns and runs.


Celis does the most natural thing in the world and reports it to the Peacekeepers the next morning. They stare at the sixteen-year-old with identical looks of surprise, then worry, then feigned reassurance.

"We'll look into it," they say. "But, I wouldn't worry much if I were you. Most Mu reports turn out to be false alarms."

"I hope you take every report seriously," Celis comments, concealing his disconcerted unease at their lackadaisical attitudes. "Just because this one didn't attack me, doesn't mean it isn't a Mu. Or do you only catch them once they have killed someone?"

The Peacekeepers are forced to assuage his fears by promising to conduct a thorough search soon.


Three days later, Celis sees Linden at school and curses the Peacekeepers' incompetence.

However, he quickly realized that the Linden sitting in front of him in class isn't the same boy he has known for over nine years.

He had stumbled into class late without a single word of apology or explanation, an unfocused look in his eyes as he shuffled to his seat and sank into place with a sharp wince. When people spoke to him, he averted his eyes and responded with quiet, one word answers. A single tap on his shoulder made him swing around and nearly smack their friend Yulian in the face.

During lunchtime, Celis sets off in search of him. Predictably, he finds him by the hawthorn tree on the other side of the fence.

"How did you manage to trick their scanners, Mu?" Celis asks scathingly. He doesn't allow himself to lose his nerve or the hatred thick in his tone of voice even when Linden turns around and gazes at him sadly. No, perhaps it isn't sadness. Pain? His brow is drawn and dark circles sit beneath his eyes.

"I didn't," Linden breathes quietly, his chest heaving as if those two words took all the effort in the world. "I don't know what I'm doing here."

"Well-"

"Can…can we walk home together? I promise, I won't do anything to you. Of all the people in this District, you're the last one I would ever want to hurt. Please." Linden's words flow out one after another, tumbling forth with hardly a breath to spare. They're desperate, but Celis can hardly pick up on the sentiment; there is barely any energy in his voice at all.

This time, he can't determine whether Linden is lying or not. Mu are deceptive beings. Linden might be reading his mind to figure out what to say to sway him.

Or he might be telling the truth.

"Okay," Celis relents. He isn't sure why he does. His grandfather would be mortified if he knew what danger Celis is about to walk into. On any other day, Celis would never even consider it. He needs to know why Linden is still here, though, and the reason for the hollowness in his eyes.

"Thank you," Linden smiles.


They walk home together. It's an odd feeling. Linden's home is in the opposite direction, so he will have to double back after Celis reaches his place. He insisted, though, when the final bell rang and Celis got out of his seat.

Walking down the winding paths through the trees, Celis feels a sense of dread creeping upon him. He makes Linden walk in front of him, but it only prolongs the cloying, disgusting feeling welling up inside. Linden moves at a snail's pace, so unlike his usual energetic step that Celis watches his every move with a wary eye.

"What did they do to you?" Celis asks after a time, wondering at his uncoordinated steps and frequent breaks to catch his breath.

Linden glances back at him with unfocused eyes that stare off behind him, then focus on Celis again for a short time before darting away again.

"I don't know," he says, but his voice is flat. He isn't even trying to make the lie believable.

"They did something." Linden nods. "Tell me."

Confusion swims in Linden's dull brown eyes. His mouth moves, but no sound comes out, and it shuts it again. Celis approaches him, strides long and forceful, and reaches out for this being he used to call his friend.

Linden's eyes widen. He jerks back.

"No! Don't touch me!"

Celis hears - something. The low, deep whine of wood straining and breaking. It's familiar to anyone in District 7, even to Celis who doesn't work in the lumber business.

As the sound builds, Celis watches Linden grab him by the arms and shove him away. The push barely has any force in it. It spurs Celis into stumbling away, though, into moving his feet to save himself from the tree that is inexplicably coming down.

A screech and groan of wood splits the quiet afternoon air in two. Celis squeezes his eyes shut, mind whirling around for an explanation, a reason why a perfectly healthy tree would suddenly splinter and collapse. Of course, he knows the reason. It's standing right in front of him. Or was.

When he opens his eyes, he sees split wood and branches heavy with leaves in front of him.

"Linden?" he says, hoarse. He creeps forward on shaky legs, freezing when he sees a familiar form slumped on the ground beneath the fallen tree. He has seen Mu weather far worst in the arena. One Victor from Ten was even strong enough to survive falling boulders with only a broken wrist.

However, Linden's body glows intermittently with a soft red haze, not enough to do anything about the broken tree crushing him and the large splinter struck through his side. Celis watches the blood pour onto the earth, sinking into the dirt between blades of grass. His grandfather's stories come to mind, of the destruction that the Mu wrought on Panem, the senseless deaths that occurred because of them. How seeing a few die each year would never make up for the amount of people who died in the Wars.

Celis approaches the tree, mesmerized and moving purely on horrified curiosity.

Linden's eyes open slowly as if from a deep sleep. His chest heaves, forcing more blood out of his wounds with every breath.

"Why?" Celis finds himself saying. His voice sounds far away, as if he is hearing himself from a distance. His hands are limp at his side as he repeats, his voice growing ever more desperate for an answer, "Why? Why did you tell me you were a Mu? Were you hoping for a different outcome?"

He suddenly finds that he needs to know. This isn't the result of some rational decision. Linden has always known how much Celis despises the Mu. He has listened to him wonder why the Capitol simply cannot shoot them on the spot and hang their bodies out as an example to the remaining Mu rather than send them through the Games.

Linden doesn't speak. One of his arms is outstretched, free of the weight crushing his bones. It moves just enough to brush against Celis's ankle, and that movement alone is enough to make Linden screw his eyes shut in pain. He won't have the strength to open them again, Celis suspects.

"Because I know you will always make the right decision. That's just the kind of person you are…"

As the words sink gradually into his mind, barely obtrusive this time, the weak spot of contact between them falls away and Linden's breathing slows.

"Make the right decision," Celis echoes long after the blood stops seeping into the dirt.

Words are left unsaid between them. Linden's final words, which he couldn't even finish telepathically, which will never be born into the world. But Celis knows what they were going to be. He felt it in Linden's last breath, in the quiet relief as he let go.

Thank you.


The Peacekeepers made Linden undergo a ''psychological exam' (A procedure that bombards a Mu with machine-generated psion waves to measure their psionic potential, but also happens to be very painful. It can be used for other means as well, like psychological torture sessions.) to force him to go berserk so they could kill him. If he killed others in the process? Well, just supports their argument that Mu are dangerous. Linden asked Celis to walk with him knowing he was going to snap and that Celis is the one person he'd never be able to hurt.

Celis Alberink belongs to me.