The Records Viewing Room is dark and empty at midnight, except for Enobaria and me.
It's more like a storage closet than a theater, although it contains two chairs and a large screen. Shelves upon shelves of discs in cases surround us - "hard copies" of files stored digitally on the computer in front of us. After checking for the telltale lights of surveillance cameras, Enobaria deems them off, and us safe. The first thing she says, her voice barely above a whisper, is: "What does Trainer Flavius always say if our sparring attacks miss our opponents more than they hit them, or if we're not putting enough effort into it?"
"Are you the diner or the dinner?"
"Exactly. Either we feed upon our enemies, or we're food for them. Nine times out of ten, those enemies are our fellow Careers, even though we're not supposed to kill them until the threshing brawls. The thing is, if Flavius singles you out - for better or worse - he also adds some different items to the menu." She gives me an odd smile and then tells the computer: "Verus, 1/9/60th, 2:00 AM." Then Enobaria addresses me again. "Two years ago, in the year of the sixtieth Hunger Games, I was sixteen years old. Back then, you were in the Junior Division and working your way up to its first tier. Right?" I nod. I had been fifteen. "There's no way you could have known, as you still don't, what our beloved trainer has in store if he favors you. He chose two Senior Division tributes to volunteer for the 60th and 61st Games, but he had his eye on me. On this particular night, in the dark of it, he called me to the Mock Arena for an 'elite demonstration'."
"He wanted you to show off your skills."
"Right. He'd invited several wealthy and influential families in District Two to watch, including their children. Even toddlers and infants, held in their mothers' arms, had earned this special privilege. At first, everyone was excited, including me. Who would my opponent be? The frenzied tension in the air was palpable. At last, I'd receive an audience for myself alone, and not along with all the other weak tributes in the Hunger Games! I could taste victory in my mouth, like I tasted your blood, and then Flavius approached me." The video record has apparently been pausing on the screen for several minutes while we've been talking, but for some reason, Enobaria wanted to give me this introduction. "The rest is history, as they say. Watch."
"Here we have the remarkable Enobaria Romula Verus! At only sixteen years old, she has become a first-tier tribute, but she must prove her mettle if I'm to select her to volunteer for the sixtieth Hunger Games. Let us hail her properly, as she deserves." The crowd rose, all of the men, women, and children who could stand. They proudly gave Enobaria the Panem salute and obeyed. "I believe that she deserves a practice arena all to herself, to simulate the actual Games, and prepare her for what lies ahead. Thus, I shall now place an explosive collar around her neck." He does so, and I can tell on the video that it's an active one instead of the inert ones that we sometimes use. "I shall also provide her with the weapons at which she's most proficient." He offers her two short swords, and they are anything but dull. "Now to demonstrate."
"Excuse me, Trainer Flavius," says Enobaria on the video, "but whom will I fight? Where are the tributes?"
Flavius walks away, saying nothing, and steps into a glass elevator that he unlocks with a remote. It takes the elevator mere seconds to rocket all the way to the viewing box at the top of the Mock Arena. He then pushes another button to activate the loudspeakers. "You cannot refuse this, Enobaria. I wish to test you, and tested you will be. If you decline to participate in this elite demonstration, then you will die in disgrace." He then tells the crowd: "You believed all was forgiven? Fools! Your protests against my Academy, and the deaths of your own worthless sons and daughters in threshing brawls, shall not be unanswered. Get out if you CAN!" In a panic, the entire assembly rushes forward into the Mock Arena from the stands. Some of them try to kill Enobaria, but without armor or weapons, they are helpless against her. The others hurry to the mesh and attempt to climb it. To her credit, my fellow Career tribute lets them. She focuses only upon the people who are clawing at her face and body instead, dodging punches and kicks galore. No matter how much each member of the crowd clings to life, however, Mundanes can't fight like Careers.
Enobaria cuts down men, women, and children equally - even infants wailing as their mothers carry them. She slaughters fifteen people. When the bloodbath on the floor is finally finished, Flavius sighs, "Enough," seeming bored. With another push of a button, he electrifies the enclosing mesh, executing eight more.
