What To Do

Aidan Paylor, Age 42, President of Panem, Capitol

It was shortly before the anthem would air on Day Two of the Games, and I was headed for the Gamemaking Center to see Lavender about some… urgent developments.

The front lobby of the building was still destroyed from the attempt on the Gamemaker's lives that I was there partially to talk about. I navigated it and headed down the hall for the elevators, taking it up to the third floor, where Lavender would be in her office—I'd told her I would meet her there for privacy.

Her office door was the first on the right, and the door was open. I walked in and shut it behind me.

"Funny, I didn't hear you knock," Lavender said, looking up from a table-screen.

"Not now," I snapped. I sat in the chair across the desk from her. "We have bigger things to talk about."

"Go on," said Lavender.

"There have been some little snags in our plan," I began.

"Snags?"

"Well, two," I said.

"What's the first?"

"Kizzy is dead."

Lavender gaped at me. Emotions ran over her face and then almost disappeared. "What?" she got out. "How—the security—it's so impossible—"

"Well, it happened. They even mocked us. We found 'Welcome to Our Games' written in her blood on the wall."

Lavender continued to stare. "Was it quick, at least?" she asked quietly, finally.

"No," I said, because I was tired of sheltering people, "they injected hydrogen peroxide into her bloodstream."

Lavender's eyes widened slightly. "But she was supposed to live, I was supposed to let one of them live…" she said, almost to herself. Then she stammered: "Who—when—"

"Last night. I just got to talk to you now. They knew that Kizzy was one of the most important ones working for our side, the victor of the last Games. They already tried to kill you. I'd be next, but they need me to negotiate."

"And what about who—do we know…?"

"That brings us to snag number two," I said.

Lavender closed her eyes in preparation. "What's that?"

"Trey's gone."

Lavender's eyes shot open. "Trey was the traitor?" she gasped, then exhaled and visibly tried to stay calm.

"I know," I said, "I thought it would be Keith or Litiea, the other victors, but not him. And this means Saber's probably working for Fourteen as well."

"And Saber's been working so closely with Delora… and they were missing when we lost the locket…."

I nodded.

Lavender dropped her head into her hands. "Trey's gone to Fourteen?" she asked, mumbling.

"I suspect so. His tracker went out of bounds. I also suspect he was behind the attempt to blow up this building."

"So, ah, what do we… I mean, what do we… do?" Lavender asked, looking up again.

"We make Kizzy's death look like an accident for now. It hasn't been announced yet. We say we know nothing about Trey's disappearance, and hand over the District Three mentoring to the escort. We monitor Saber and Delora as closely as possible but try to keep them alive—they might reveal information. And we prepare for war."

Lavender nodded slowly. "When will Kizzy's death be announced?"

"As soon as I get to it."

"And how hard do you want me to try to keep Saber and Delora alive?"

I thought about it. "If you let them die, at least make it entertaining," I said.

Lavender nodded again.

"And what are your other plans for the Games?" I asked her. "I know you said something about giving the tributes certain dreams."

Lavender shrugged that part off. "It's time for another plot twist," she said, talking more about what I'd just told her, I'd suspect. She held up a tablet device. "Every one of the tributes is getting one of these."

"Oh, thank Panem," I said, "the tributes can play Sweets Smash while they die."

"No." Lavender shook her head. "This is one of our special tablets. We're giving the arena controls over to the tributes."

I pictured it. Tributes sending mutts after each other. Tributes bringing storms, sending attacks—a whole new kind of warfare.

This was why Lavender kept her job.

"Every order will have to be approved by us, of course," she said. "But we'll see what they do. We can still do whatever we want, and the tributes won't be able to see their trackers on the map—not on here, anyway—so they'll have to get that information themselves."

"Brilliant," I nodded. This would give different tributes a chance; this would change the whole course of the Games.

Everything was changing. We were now lacking a poster child for our side, someone the districts could relate to who was on the Capitol's side… Kizzy was gone, and Trey was gone, in a different way—we had traitors to deal with and murders to cover up, and soon the tributes might be gone in all kinds of ways, and we'd have a war on our hands.

Then there was the general dissent always rising in the districts, that neither the Capitol or Fourteen agreed with, except for a small portion.

It would make anyone's head spin.

"I should be going," I said to Lavender. "I'll keep you updated." I stood and walked out of the room. Back down the hall, down the elevator, through the destroyed lobby, and out the front doors of the Gamemaking Center. I had other people to meet with, other places to go, things to do, and very little time on my hands before the war might destroy us all.

. . . . .

Elara Cerium, Age 34, Lead Conspirator Against the State of District Fourteen

I always felt somewhat at peace when I was helping the people. It made me feel as if I belonged, as if I were in my rightful place. It came naturally to lead one of the conspiracy's patrols out into the woods to gather supplies to distribute to the poor of District Fourteen. It was a way to help the people directly, something I hoped to do one day for the districts as well, unlike the Capitol or Headquarters wanted. They just wanted to torture people through the Games.

I just wanted peace, and they just wanted war.

The Mulish siblings and Trey Dracco had been brought back to the State, as they'd done their part in the war for now.

I wondered how much of an idea they had that our conspiracy existed. I knew that the locket Trey had brought back had some of the names of those on our side. Many of those mentioned in the letter in the locket were dead already, but we lost a few more. I grieved for them, but I knew there were many more losses to come on the road to peace.

I tried to stay in the moment, focusing on collecting food.

It wasn't what people were used to inside the State, but it would do for those that Headquarters neglected. Nuts, berries, bark, fish, hunted animals, edible plants.

I worked my way down the river, collecting nuts and bark from trees, berries from bushes, fish and game from traps set in the river and around it, and cattails that grew in the mud. I was careful to not take too much, so that the supply would always replenish.

It wasn't like it was enough, but we had to help where we could.

The conspiracy's philosophy had changed over time. Instead of focusing on getting into offices, we led quiet, inconspicuous lives in the State, helping the people on our own. It got fewer of us discovered, and let us be more efficient. We also collected support this way, for our bigger stunts against Headquarters, and for the voting.

"—Think we should bring this load back for prep?" Nash asked me. He was one of my three second-in-commands, the only other one with me on this mission—we avoided large gatherings, and when doing something law-breaking, had only two of us at a time. The other two seconds were Selenia and Argo, who we'd meet back in my home in Sector Seven, medicine, where I healed more people.

"I think we're ready," I agreed.

We prepared everything to bring back, hidden in covered baskets and such as if we'd just been shopping, and we went back into the state, through a gate that we'd gained the code to. We went out into the woods only when one of our conspirators from Sector Two was manning the bugs and cameras around the gate. They could blur the footage in case anyone tried to look at it later.

We headed into Sector Seven, up to my living quarters, where Argo and Selenia were waiting.

We unloaded the baskets.

"Good catches today," said Argo, while Selenia brushed her thick, curly hair out of her eyes.

"Not bad," she said, less optimistically, and Argo nudged her.

We started getting the food ready to eat. Roasting the nuts, cooking the meat and fish, frying the bark, and I worked on the cattails, cleaning them, boiling the roots, cutting off the roots and opening them to get out the starchy part.

"What route are we taking the food on today?" Nash asked me with a smile.

"There have been more crackdowns in Sector Eight, so I think we'll have this given out there," I said. Sector Eight was Selenia's home, so she would take the food around. Nash was from Sector Six and Argo was from Sector Five.

We sorted everything into storage: plastic containers of berries and nuts, wrapped up meat and fish, more plastic containers for bark and cattail starch. We brought out some leftover plastic containers of things to add to the Sector Eight delivery.

We had people out in the woods a lot to keep up with demand.

But we ended up talking before Selenia set out.

"When everything is settled out, Headquarters—most of Fourteen—wants to keep the Games going," Selenia said. "Those idiots. They just want power, they're against the Capitol for no reason."

"The Games are why we're fighting against them," I said. "… One of the reasons why we're fighting against them."

"Why was it on your mind?" asked Argo.

"The remaining tributes'll be here any day now. What'll happen to them when this is over?"

"We'll save them," I said confidently, and Nash agreed. "We'll get the districts to rally behind us, and we'll help them, too."

"As long as we overpower Headquarters and the Capitol," said Selenia, "which is easier said than done."

"We'll get through," said Argo.

We were all silent for a second at the idea that we might not get through.

"Well," said Selenia, "I should take this through Sector Eight." She picked up one of the opaque boxes we'd packed, and Argo said:

"I'll help you," while taking the other box.

They headed out.

Nash looked over at me and said, "If we show the districts that cooperation works, we can overcome the Capitol and Headquarters."

"I would hope so," I said. "They need to see that instead of killing each other in the arena, if they worked together—like we do with those who need us—things could work. We could have a democracy."

"Exactly."

I sighed. "Not all of us see it that way." By that, I meant the people that we had tried to clear the conspiracy of—people who were against Headquarters but perhaps also against the districts, or against cooperation or democracy. They were just regular Fourteen citizens, power hungry.

"—But we've mostly narrowed our group down."

"True."

Nash said, "I should head back to Six. I'll see you later."

"Be careful," I said.

"We always are."


Author's Note: For an idea of what happened to Kizzy, if you're not of the faint of stomach, here's what happens when you mix hydrogen peroxide and blood: youtube watch?v=aCQIxpbss94.