Metamorphosis: The 100th Hunger Games
For What It's Worth - Part One
In the Capitol Arena skybox, Marceline Devereaux and her fellow panelists are mute like avoxes and sickly pale to boot. The holovision on her desk and the live feed playing behind her were immediately cut. The indicator on top of the camera - Marceline notices - is still green. They were still on the air. She glances over toward Yvette, whose dark skin is one shade lighter due to what...fear? All eyes were on Marceline, as this was her bag - she was the spin doctor after all. Unfortunately for them, the spin doctor is all out of tricks. Still, say something!
"It appears there has been a...uh, slight disturbance." Marceline says, flashing the cameras a weak grin. "We will be going off air until this disturbance is rectified. We'll be sure to update you when we get the latest information." A demonic glare from the Master of Ceremonies towards the production crew prompts an immediately cut to a "PLEASE STAND BY" test pattern and pleasant pop music.
...
A 'slight disturbance' was putting it lightly.
From Spokane, District 7 to Charleston, District 12 and everywhere in between, citizens of Panem were flabbergasted at the Games' conclusion. Immediately after holovision sets across the nation were cut off outright or were switched to a distracting sitcom or general news with just-as-flustered newscasters, the streets of Panem were in uproar for a plethora of reasons. As if the streets weren't already flooded with citizens defying the Capitol. Even in the Capitol, sponsors who poured their money into these tributes were livid because their investments meant nothing when no one survived.
...
Hours following the 'conclusion' of the Games, Prime Minister Gideon Montresor's heart is beating up a storm when his motorcade arrives before the entrance of the Presidential Mansion. He ignores the crowds of angry Capitolites that gather just outside the iron gates. Keeping track of internal government communications via his datapad, he hastily shoves it into his briefcase and bounds up the steps of the mansion with his security detail in tow, ignoring the Peacekeepers who salute him and the Avoxes who bow before him. Antonia Lockpetal, his principal secretary, is right there in the ornate foyer to greet him. Without a word she takes his fedora and coat, handing it off to an Avox and pivoting on her heels to follow after him.
"Is everyone in attendance?" Gideon Montresor asks brusquely when he hears her heels clicking alongside him. He runs a hand through his shaggy hair in a futile attempt to calm himself. If he doesn't put a lid on this utter disaster right now, the Capitol will have a serious problem on his hands. Although his nerves are frayed now, the Prime Minister wasn't a defeatist. He could nip this, just like he did during the Second Rebellion when all was lost. He just needs DeWynter to listen to his words above the rabble that was sure to flood the Ravinstill Room.
"Yes Prime Minister," Antonia replies shakily in return. "All commanders are present via hologram and all appropriate cabinet secretaries are present as well as the Head Peacekeeper Staff."
Their brisk walk quickly leads them to the East Wing of the mansion - which effectively housed the highest echelon of the executive branch of Panem's government. As Gideon and Antonia zip through the halls, they pass a hive-like environment where officials are buzzing to and from offices, engaging in heated shouting matches with stakeholders across the nation - another example of the effect this woman's actions had and the reverberations it caused. He knew she was nothing but trouble as soon as she walked out of her aisle and onto the steps of Twelve's Hall of Justice without saying a word. They were caught between a rock and a hard place. He's of firm belief that they should've dealt with her and deal with the consequences as they came...now look.
"How are they...the others?" he asks, turning to gaze at the young lady. She turns to face him, her bob jostling as she frowns.
"What do you think? They never agree." She replies, adjusting her eyeglasses. "I don't know why she tolerates it..."
The two of them reach the double doors of the Ravinstill Room. "After this, she'll have to change. I'll make sure of it."
The Avoxes before them bow before swinging the doors open, revealing the Ravinstill Room proper - a grand meeting room with ivory walls and gargantuan round table currently occupied by the highest echelons within Panem's National Government. Vapor from cigarettes waft through the air as all heated conversation ceases upon the sight of the Prime Minister. Most of the men and few women that occupy the meeting room have very little respect for the man, regardless of the fact that they most likely wouldn't be here if it weren't for his sound judgment during the HG Seventies. But like President Snow, President DeWynter has a cabinet full of people wanting to garner her favor and Capitol supremacists who would nuke a district if it meant maintaining the status quo. The racket returns in full volume as he makes his way to his seat beside the president's which was unoccupied. Paying seldom attention to the holoscreens containing the faces of the various Head Peacekeepers of the districts and insular areas - Snow Island and Thirteen - as well as the footage of rioting citizens, Gideon takes his seat with Antonia behind him, folds his hands onto his stomach and listens.
If he were to open his mouth, these people wouldn't listen anyway. A small part of him wonders why he didn't just retire and decline the role of 'prime minister'.
Field Marshal Parangosky, Chairwoman of Head Peacekeeper Staff and therefore Panem's highest-ranking solider, rises from her seat and waves a hand, silencing the room as she blows up the screen belonging to District 13's Head Peacekeeper. "We have a report from the Raven Rock facility in District 13. Commander, your report?"
"We have a brigade ready for deployment, ma'am, with the ability to split them up and deploy them to various districts within the region." He says. "Will it be enough to turn the tide? Our estimates are grim. We require more time to stand up reinforcements and request that units be siphoned from the west to be brought here."
"Reports from Districts 1 and 2 and the Capitol City Region are good thus far." The Field Marshal replies. She motions to Two generals who leave the room immediately. We will keep you updated in regards to reinforcements but most likely they will be relinquished to you."
"We need to show them what happens when they go up against the might of the Capitol!" Remus Johnston, the Attorney General says while pounding his fist against the table. "We've shown them twice, three times should put an end to this once and for all. I have a number of judges ready and willing to try those responsible for any foolishness in the coming weeks or days."
"Our troops are at their highest readiness, Mr. General." The Field Marshal replies. "We just need Her Excellency's word to go ahead."
"They should be in the problem regions already. Why a contingency plan wasn't drafted baffles me." Another Secretary comments.
Another general shakes his head. "Of course we have plans in place-"
"Obviously they weren't good plans, seeing as how multiple districts are on fire as we speak!" Spits the Secretary of State for Districts' Affairs.
"I'm just going to ignore that comment. I'll blame it on civilian ignorance."
"We can't just deploy Peacekeepers into these areas and raze them to the ground." Lucianus Pape, The Secretary of State for the Interior, retorts. "I support giving any dissident their just deserts. Doing so basically gives ammo to the rebels and states that we're at war again. A war is something we can ill afford right now."
"Don't be naïve Lucianus," the Secretary of State for the Treasury rebukes, flipping her hair. "Fighting is all these district people seem to understand. Look what almost happened the last time we treated them with kid gloves? I agree with preventing a full-scale conflict, however our monetary gains will be thoroughly diminished. I prefer short-term deficits rather than long-term deficits. So what if a few rebels are erased from history? At least then we aren't looking at factories and businesses being razed by these ruffians."
"We almost wore gray jumpsuits for the rest of our lives." A general snips, causing the room to snicker and Gideon to inwardly groan. He checks his communicuff for the time. Where is she?
Lucianus shakes his head. "Look, I agree wholeheartedly with firmness. But how firm-"
The double doors swing open, revealing a young military aide standing at attention. "Ladies and gentlemen - Her Excellency Viondra DeWynter, President of Panem."
Gideon, alongside the secretaries, rise to their feet in reverence as a Peacekeeper calls the room to attention, prompting every soldier to stand rigid, their heels clicking together as they snap a crisp salute towards their supreme commander. Gideon observes the slightly pregnant President as she saunters into the room with the aide by her side and a regal air about her, her light blue eyes scanning the room as she rounds the table and eases into the tallest chair designated for her.
"At ease," she chimes, watching as her generals and cabinet settle into their seats once more. If she's annoyed by the recent happenings, Viondra DeWynter does not let it show. This surprises Gideon, knowing that the President was prone to violent outburst when at her wits end, as she should be now.
"First order of business - internal security. If you could dim the lights please, thank you," The Secretary of State for Defense says while blowing up an image of continental Panem and Snow Island. All districts and insular areas are color coded. Gideon assumes that green is 'good' and 'red' is bad. All regions are orange or red, besides the Capitol, Snow Island, One and Two who are yellow. "The situation is quite dire, Your Excellency. There are reports of citizens defying curfews and taking to the streets in protest. The situation in the west is stable, sparse populations in Districts 9 and 10 make for easy control. The urban areas of 7, 3, 1 and 2 and even 10 are reporting fervent unrest. The districtorial governments of 1 and 2 confirm that their jurisdictions are stable, as their crowds were easy to dissipate. We require authorization to shuffle troops around to areas that prove more problematic."
Field Marshal Parangosky rises to her feet. "Mind you, Your Excellency, that just because some areas are in red, doesn't mean they are truly 'lost' to the unrest. Some regions, loyal to the Capitol, are completely pacified and compliant with stay-at-home curfew orders. And as instructed, we have a dozen orders drafted which will result in complete pacification within forty-eight hours."
Gideon raises a hand, causing all eyes to descend on him. "I'm assuming that you have orders that call for the least amount of casualties?" When eyebrows raise his way he continues, "Corporal punishments, imprisonment, lower social credit scores, things of that nature?"
"Of course, Prime Minister." The Secretary replies, his voice strained. "That's if Her Excellency approves of that line of contingency?"
"Authorization granted. If citizens prove to be violent-"
"As they are, Madam," the Secretary interjects, raising a tentative finger. "For example, in Eight an armory was raided-"
"Then bring the might of the Capitol onto them." She finishes, waiving him off dismissively. "Field Marshal, Commanders, I give you my blessing to ensure that these districts are brought to heel in a constructive manner that does not warrant extensive measures a la District 8 during the Second Rebellion. I think we're all in full agreement that we cannot afford a conflict of that magnitude. What's next?"
"State security, Your Excellency." Lucianus pipes up while retrieving a datapad from his aide. "MININT is always vigilant, as you know. As we speak right now, our field agents are compiling human intelligence on the various ringleaders of this unrest. We're also compiling clemency appeals for your approval, just in case."
"We could always use some more avoxes..." The President muses, her hand caressing her abdomen as chuckles ring out throughout the room. "What of the victors - the tributes' families?"
The Secretary of State for Districts' Affairs rises from their seat. "We're working together with MININT to ensure that both victors and the families of the fallen are secured and advocating for...'Stability' during these trying times, Your Excellency."
"Excellent. The victors - whether they like it or not - serve as beacons to their respective districts. Ensure that they indeed do advocate for stability." The President reclines back into her chair. "What else needs to be brought to my attention?"
...
Gideon endures another hour of inciting rhetoric that would make President Coriolanus Snow proud, but he stomachs it anyway and is elated when the Transport Secretary and Communications Secretary finishes the last of their briefings detailing travel bans and increased screening of cargo and telecom bans in general.
"Is there anything else I need to be aware of?" The President asks, her eyes shifting throughout the room before a slight grin appears on her lips. She nods. "You're all dismissed. We'll reconvene later this evening where I expect more updates from your respective portfolios."
Gideon sits with the President, watching as Peacekeepers and civilian officials alike gradually leave the room. Gideon places a gentle hand on top of Antonia's, nodding to her as she too joins the crowd of people flowing out of the Ravinstill Room. A lone Guardsman closes the door, leaving him and the two leaders the only occupants left.
"How are you?" Gideon asks with a sigh, removing his browline glasses in order to massage his temples.
"My doctors fought against me coming here. Seeing what I say today, I thought I'd have a miscarriage right then and there. I wouldn't be surprised if I were to..." she sighs, closing her eyes whilst rolling her neck. "I crave a cigarette - even one of those quarter tobacco content ones for people of my... condition. The doctors forbid it, and thus I am left to suffer. How are you, Prime Minister? You seemed like you're ready to fly out of skin just now."
Gideon eases upright, fixing the younger woman with a pointed gaze. "Madam President, why did you choose me for this position?"
"I tapped you to reward you for your decades of civil service."
He shakes his head. He wants to hear specifically why. "What else?"
"You helped my father and a handful of other presidents navigate the era that could've spelled the end of our nation as we knew it. You're a damn fine advisor and you give it to me vanilla."
Exactly, so here it comes. "You - we - need to restrain ourselves. No public executions and no explicit massacres. Just like how we dealt with the Kane situation."
DeWynter looks at him as if he had twelve heads. "We can't let the distric-"
"We won't let 'them' do anything. Discretion is key. As they've seen with HG 76 through HG 80, we're not above taking their relatives or kin. The conspirators won't get away, I assure now. Now that was the rebels. We need to switch gears to the bystanders."
"Bystanders?"
"Loyalist townships, Panemians just trying to live who are looking at either side and wonder which would be better for them. I'm sure you've watched the interviews and seen the mood of the nation at-large under Kane. The people just want more change-"
DeWynter shakes her head. "What 'change'...?"
"Pay increases, increased party membership, electoral reform, better working conditions..." Gideon rattles off. Unlike his fellow cabinet members and government officials at-large, he wasn't blindly adherent to the notion that Capitolites were superior. If DeWynter wants to keep the status quo - and her stable image - then the disparity needs to be rectified just a little bit, just like they've slowly been improving Panem for all since the War's end. "Loyalists and bystanders want those things too, on top of their usual security and stability. Perhaps - in terms of the Games - we allow forms of training to even the field, anything that keeps them complacent."
"Go on..."
"Let the bystanders go. Don't punish the entire district for the actions of a few. We can't afford to have your feminine image sullied by this event."
"I'm sorry?" DeWynter replies quizzically with a quirked brow. "My 'feminine image', what's that?"
"How would it look to have you razing districts to the ground in your position? Despite all the pieces the press put out about baby names or the type of outfits you sport on any given day, people won't care once they see you unleash the beast on them - hanging dozens at a time while giving dark, foreboding speeches. When's the last time the presidency has had a woman's touch? President Choudhury doesn't count since she was a caretaker to see that Snow agenda was carried out until its end."
The President pats down her beehive. "Right...I suppose you have a point."
"Benevolence works - carrots and whips," Gideon elaborates, leaning forward. "You still have Kane's agenda left over. You could make it yours - with a few conservative reforms of course. Presidencies don't last as long as they used to, Madam President. If you want yours to last, then I advise against haughty decisions that the majority of your cabinet advises. In fact, I advise that you allow me partial discretion when it comes to the selection of cabinet officials in general. My decisions, as they were for presidents before you - only serve to benefit you."
And the nation in general. What use is Panem - one of the last functional nations on earth - if both sides ruin it from the inside out?