Donna read and reread the few lines Aulus had written to her, trying to wrap her mind around them.

Work is going well. I met with a few people yesterday, it was an enjoyable gathering. I also got married to Helia. She says she's fine with waiting to meet you, but at least you'll finally get to see what she looks like when we send in the updated photo. Sorry for not telling you, but we told nobody. They could see it coming in any case.

Maybe the others could have seen it coming, but Donna could not have. All she knew about her daughter-in-law was that she was also a lawyer and that Aulus seemed to love her very much. In light of that, why couldn't he as much as warned her?

The rest of the letter was almost insultingly normal, as if they were all dancing around the topic. Lars had written a large paragraph about the most recent trouble Joel had managed to get himself into. While playing some sort of game, he had picked up a rock and thrown it at someone's head, giving them a nasty bruise. Of course, he was unable to give an explanation as to why he would have done such a thing. According to Lars, it was because Joel lacked impulse control, but it seemed to Donna that he should know better than put himself in such situations.

After having to deal with endless messages of this sort from Lars, Donna thought she could understand her parents' worries about Alex better. Her grandson was starting grade six in a few weeks, and he wasn't as small as he had been before. Donna hoped he'd figure out what was what before it was too late. According to her books, people with FASD took ten years longer than average for their brains to finish developing, but Donna was afraid that Joel would do something to ruin his life permanently long before he was thirty.

At least the news from the others was normal. Laelia was itching to finally get back to the classroom and start teaching. Octavius had written about his research. Donna was doing fine, and Aulus was practically skipping around, he was so happy, according to her parents. Mom and Dad and Alex hadn't written much, so Donna took it as a sign that things were good and went back to contemplating her middle child's marriage.

Aulus had given her no reason whatsoever to suspect that he was contemplating getting married in the immediate future, and that irritated Donna. Why hadn't he at least warned her?

"I just don't get it!" Donna finished complaining to Theodosius. "Why did he just dump this on me all of a sudden?" She plucked a blackcurrant from the bush and placed it into the small bucket tied to her waist.

Theodosius nodded sympathetically. "At least Emilia warned me." He lifted up a branch, looked at the berries, and sighed. "I thought they'd wait until I got out, but I suppose I can't fault them for not wanting to wait for three years." He lowered the branch and wiped at his face with the back of a berry-stained hand. Donna had finished her jog very recently, but the heat was already scalding. The only one working besides them was Li, who was weeding a cabbage patch. The others had followed the doctors' instructions and were waiting for the heat to drop as they hid in the shade, armed with newspapers and books.

"But he didn't even warn me! Why?"

"Maybe he took a leaf out of your own book?"

That suggestion made her grit her teeth. "My parents disapproved of my relationship. I never said or did a single thing to make him feel that way!"

"That's true." He ate a few berries off the bush, and Donna did likewise. They were juicy, sweet, and sour. "Do you want to hear something crazy?"

"About what?" Donna didn't look up from the berries she was going to grab next.

"About Best."

Unable to think of anything that would fit the description, Donna nodded enthusiastically. She had finished venting her frustrations about her son's marriage, and was now ready to think about something else.

Smiling slightly, Theodosius reached deeper into the bush. "He got a birthday card from the president."

His birthday had been a few days ago, and there had been plenty of rumours about who had tried to congratulate the former Coast Guard commander on the occasion of him turning one hundred. Revanchists had even gathered outside the prison to wish him a happy birthday and demand his release. Nobody had expected the president to join in, though. "Best's a citizen?" she asked. Since they weren't allowed to vote and did not fill in census forms, Donna had assumed they were not.

Theodosius sighed. "That's not the real crazy thing! The crazy thing is that he was allowed to actually receive the card!"

"What?" Donna whirled around to look at Best, who was sitting on a bench under a tree in the distance. "Does he have it with him now?"

"Of course," Theodosius said with a nod. "Wanted to brag to everyone."

Donna couldn't fault him for that. Not only had he managed to live an entire century, but he had also gotten the administration to cave. Which of the two achievements was greater was a good question. She asked Theodosius that much, and got a laugh in reply.

"I'd say it's about equal." He reached into the bush and stretched out his hand. "It's a crying shame that they didn't release him, though. This is absurd. There isn't a single other person his age behind bars in the entire country!"

Absurd it was, but there was nothing any of them could do about it. Demands for compassionate release fell on deaf ears, and everyone could only guess as to what would happen if they were not released together with Donna and Theodosius. The oldest ones seemed to be holding on so that they could die at home with their loved ones. "I'm curious to see the card," Donna said. She walked over to the large bucket standing about a metre away and emptied her small bucket into it. "Let's go."

They walked down the path, bare feet on hot ground. Donna wondered how long it would take for her feet to become soft again after release. Most of the path was bare, cracked earth covered with a thin layer of small pebbles. They'd need to add more in the fall.

After pausing to drink some tepid water from the taps, they made their way to Best, who was enlightening two guards and an irritated-looking Verdant on the precise details of some sort of funny incident that had happened on Lake Ontario seventy years ago. The guards were sitting open-mouthed as they listened to the tale.

"Good day," Best said to Donna and Theodosius. "Are you here to see the card, too?" She nodded, and Best reached into the pocket of his trousers and took out a card. "Odd, how even the president wants to congratulate me on not dying."

Donna took the card. It was a straightforward birthday card, but the message inside was written in a meticulous script. The style of the writing and the signature was the same. "I didn't know he can write so neatly," she said, reading the short message. It was a short form note, congratulating Best on one hundred years of life.

"Me neither!" Best said with a chuckle. "I wanted to write a thank-you note, but that's not allowed. I hope he won't be too offended."

Verdant huffed. "He's trying to buy you."

"No way!" Best exclaimed. "How is he supposed to buy me with a card reminding me that I'm old?" Donna handed back the card, and he held it in his hand. He swapped his usual glasses for his reading glasses and scrutinized the writing. "And it's just a simple form letter. Someone probably remembered that I'm a Panemian just like anyone else and added my name to the list." The use of the demonym made Donna think about the book Dr. Chu had smuggled in for her a few weeks ago. According to it, the older generations still did not have a national identity for the most part.

She was unable to contemplate the question for long, as one of the guards impatiently demanded to know what had happened to the crate of vodka and the dinosaur costume in the end. Best put away the card and resumed his dramatic narration, Verdant looking irritated at having to listen to the story for the hundredth time. Donna and Theodosius beat a retreat to the blackcurrant bush they were working on. "I wonder if this is a sign of anything," Donna said. "With this political climate, that's going to be national news when it gets out."

"Bad enough that the revanchists gathered," Theodosius agreed. "I can only hope to have so many people congratulate me if I turn one hundred."

Donna picked a berry with each hand and placed them into the bucket with two quiet thunks. "The likes of us won't live to be that old. We're not forbidden from dying, after all."

Laughing, Theodosius sat down and picked a few berries from the bottom of the bush. He was right next to her. "Our lives have taken a turn for the normal," he said. "Birthdays, weddings - I've got grandkids on the way."

That was news. "Since when? And why plural?"

Theodosius looked around before answering. "I found out a few days ago, but I waited for the official letter so that it wouldn't be suspicious. And Emilia's having twins."

"That makes sense," Donna said, kicking herself for forgetting. "Your daughters probably have a very high chance of a multiple birth."

"Yeah." Theodosius tossed a spoiled berry aside. "Their mother's got two sets of fraternal twins and is a fraternal twin herself - chances can't get any higher than that."

Donna had completely forgotten that Cynthia had a sister. "How's your sister-in-law doing?"

Theodosius ran a hand through his hair. "Fine, last I checked. Their relationship is still strained, but they see each other regularly."

"That's good." It was strange, how they spent so much time discussing various relatives and still couldn't remember the most basic facts about each other's families. Just last week, Ledge had asked her how many siblings she had.

"Yeah." They worked in silence for a while, sun beating down on their bare but sunscreen-covered backs. "Are you actually upset that Aulus got married without telling you?"

"Of course." Donna sat down next to him to deal with the bottom of the bush. "It's already hard enough, knowing that we're near-strangers. To have him not trust me with something like that hurts."

There was a small spider web stretched between a few branches. Donna reached around it to grab the berries that were behind it. "I wonder what your parents thought," Theodosius said.

"Maybe they'll switch to complaining about my bad influence for once." Donna extracted her hand and placed the berry in the bucket. "Or maybe they're too busy laughing. They didn't say."

"What did they say?" Theodosius shuffled over slightly.

"They took Inky to the cottage. Lazy creature loved it there. All the kids were queuing to pet him. Also, the neighbour is now the proud owner of a dog that's far too big to be an actual dog. She's friendly, though."

Theodosius nodded appreciatively. "What's it, then, if not a dog?"

Her parents hadn't specified. "Maybe a wolf hybrid. Maybe one of Cotillion's creations escaped the lab and reproduced with the stray dogs. Who knows." Donna reached her hand back inside the bush, trying to get at the berries. Blackcurrants were very difficult to pick fully, but they had all the time in the world to do so. "Anything interesting with you?"

"No." He shook his head. "Though I now want a cat. Or a dog."

The thousand-day barrier had been broken, and now they were in the final stretch before the final stretch. Donna tried her best to not think about it, but Theodosius had tacked up a piece of paper in his cell where he counted down the days. Which one of them was worse off was uncertain. "I keep on wanting to do strange things," Donna said. "Whenever I read a foreign book, I start daydreaming about how nice it would be to go there. Or even the little things, like taking a bath. I'd love to take a bath."

"Same," Theodosius said, putting a berry in his bucket. "Though you're luckier in that department. When Cynthia and I tried to take a bath together, there was no room for the water. At least your undersized husband is good for that," he said teasingly.

Donna chuckled. "He may be undersized, but size isn't all." She ate a small, sour berry.

"Are you casting aspersions on me? Cynthia won't like that."

"How am I casting aspersions?" Donna asked in a deadpan voice.

Theodosius tossed a berry into the air and watched it land in the bucket. "Laugh all you want now," he said. "I'll be the one laughing when you two go outside in the winter and look like a middle-school couple from the back."

"Middle-school?"

"Yes." He paused. "What? You're both short and skinny."

"I'm not short!" At last measurement, she had been a metre sixty-three.

"Fine. You're average. He's short, though."

Donna looked inside her bucket. It was almost empty, and she was already beginning to feel thirsty again. "Are you just worried you'll hurt your back when bending down to kiss her?" she needled him. His back was hurt by every single even mildly incautious motion.

"I thought that would take a different turn," Theodosius muttered. "And no. We're only fifteen centimetres apart. Which, given the average heights for men and women, is normal."

"So we're abnormal?"

Theodosius nodded. "I'm beginning to think that the reason you eloped is that you realized how absurd you'd look with the guests dwarfing Demetrius."

While her husband had had a tendency to be the shortest man in a group, he was forgetting someone. "Talvian had guests at her wedding," she reminded him. "And nobody said they looked absurd."

Theodosius stared off into space. "She had high rank in the NCIA. People only told jokes about her in whispers. Do you remember the photo of you, her, and Krechet with your spouses?"

"Very well," Donna said sourly. "And I don't understand why you act like Demetrius is some sort of statistical outlier when Krechet managed to dig up a two-metre-tall woman somewhere." To add insult to injury, she had been almost as burly as Krechet. Next to her, Donna had actually felt like a middle-schooler.

"Wasn't she also in the Death Squad?"

Donna shook her head. "They weren't allowed to be in relationships with each other. I think she was from some other section of the NCIA." She ran her fingers over the berries, wishing the bucket could somehow fill up of its own volition.

"We'll find out when someone writes a book about it," Theodosius said. "Just imagine it. Love, Sex, and Snow's Hired Killers. It'd be a bestseller. Internationally."

"You aren't worried it'll overanalyze your own personal life?" That moniker had had a tendency to be applied indiscriminately during the trial.

Theodosius shook his head. "Compared to the stuff that went on, you and I were wholesomeness itself. Too boring." He untied the cord holding the bucket around his waist. "Don't eat my berries while I'm gone," he said, and walked off towards the entrance.

Left alone, Donna continued picking berries and wondered if she should also take a break. She felt extremely thirsty, as well as tired. Her arms moved slowly and lethargically, and she felt as if the sun was actually burning her.

"You should get out of the sun," someone said behind her. A guard, an unfamiliar young woman from Three. It drove Donna insane, that the guards were constantly rotated and she could never keep track of who was and was not there.

"Alright," Donna said, taking off her cap and climbing to her feet.

"No, no, put it on!" Donna complied. "Why don't you sit down in the shade?"

Donna looked at the bush. It would be better if she took a break and then came back well-rested. She went with the guard towards a nearby tree at the two of them sat down. The guard took a berry out of the bucket Donna was holding on her lap.

"Good berry," she said. "When I was little, my parents grew vegetables on the balcony. Though the neighbouring building blocked most sunlight, so they were mostly small." She leaned against the trunk of the tree. "This is an idyll."

"How old are you?" Donna asked.

"Thirty."

"My son's twenty-nine." The guard looked nothing like Aulus - in fact, she looked more like Donna, with tan skin and dark narrow eyes - but she did look young. "He just got married."

The guard ate another berry. "That's nice."

"Why did you decide to work in corrections?" Donna asked. She didn't bother asking the guard for her name. None of them ever answered.

"When I was little, my aunt and uncle were arrested for allegedly organizing a strike," the guard began. If she was thirty now, about the same age as Laelia, she would have been six at the outbreak of the Rebellion. Strikes had been suppressed with extreme brutality, and ringleaders often shot without trial. A five-year-old could have easily remembered the fear. "I was only five, but it really stuck in my mind. I remember thinking that if only I worked in a prison, then I'd be able to make sure they were treated well."

Donna smiled at the childish logic. "What did your family think of your plan?"

The guard laughed. "They were horrified. Told me only collaborators worked there. They're still unhappy with my career choice. Even being an unskilled worker is better than wearing a uniform to them."

"How did they react when they found out about your new posting?" Donna asked, running her hands over the dry grass.

"Ran for the computer to find out who here had been to Three."

If Donna recalled correctly, that was only Gold and Fourrer, and neither of them had been convicted for their actions there. "They're long-released," she said. "You got here too late."

The guard shrugged. "Easier that way. Even if I was too young to actually know of them."

"I haven't seen you before. Is this your first day here?"

"No, third. I just never had to interact with you people before." She grabbed a handful of berries and ate them in one bite. "Why don't you complain?" she asked, still chewing. "I've eaten half your berries, and it's like you don't care!"

Donna tapped her fingers on the rim of the small bucket, wishing she was back in the blistering sunlight picking berries. "Why complain?" she asked. "You'll still eat them."

The guard looked awkward. "Uh-huh." She stretched out her arms and put them down by her sides.

"So, how do you like it here?" Donna asked.

"Food's good," the guard replied with a shrug. "And the job's easy. Though standing at the gate in the darkness was horrible. I kept on thinking someone was creeping up behind me."

"Isn't it the guard tower that's haunted?"

The guard shuddered. "Far as I can tell, this entire place is haunted." She glanced at the bucket and looked away.

"You can have some, if you want," Donna said, proffering the bucket in her direction. "It's not like there's a shortage of berries."

"Uh, thank you." She took a berry and ate it. "I like blackcurrants," she said. "But I like raspberries more. What's your favourite berry?"

That was a good question. "Blackcurrant-gooseberry hybrid, because it's the first type of berry we planted, and strawberries, because they're the sweetest."

"I had a few strawberries this morning before you were outside," the guard said, stretching. "They were good. Male Twenty-Seven is the one who takes care of them, right?"

Donna shook her head. "The three of us are doing pretty much everything at this point, thanks to the heat. Best used to be the one in charge of them, but now he can't work as much as he used to. He's roped Verdant into being the strawberry commander, but he's got his leg."

The guard turned to look at her with a surprised expression on her face. "I thought they hate each other."

"Not at all. They're inseparable, even if they bicker all the time. Best-"

"No idea who that is," the guard cut in, a beat too late.

That was one of the few rules they refused to let go of. "Male Sixteen thinks Male Seventeen is an overly ambitious young officer, and Male Seventeen thinks that the corrupt practices of his predecessor are to blame for everything that ever went wrong during his tenure."

"I'm glad I'm only here for a year," the guard sighed, running a hand over her face. "This is the strangest prison I've ever worked in."

Donna also wished she only had a year left, but at least she had less than three. "How so?" she asked, wishing Theodosius would return quickly.

"This enforced idleness," she said, gesturing at the yard. "In the last one I worked in, the inmates did have a patch of land to work, but if they were too unwell to work in the heat, they had other things to do. Not sit around and stare off into space. Though they were nowhere near as placid as you people." She ate another berry. "And it's a sensation when someone even half as important as you comes in. Just as I was leaving, a deputy minister was being sent to prison for corruption."

Once, that would have meant that they had neglected to share with the higher-ups. When Donna said as much, the guard laughed. "And I doubt they took bribes in smoked sausage back then," she added.

"People used to give those kinds of bribes to doctors and teachers. Sick and tired of waiting in line because the budget got slashed and the ratio of doctors to patients is twice as low? Just send in a gift basket, it'll solve all your problems!" Donna, of course, had been able to use her connections to see the best doctors without any waiting. Back then, all those systems had been two-tiered. "And we were told that on the local level, any dispute over an expired ID card could be solved with a bottle of expensive alcohol."

The guard nodded contemplatively. "My mother had to pay to be able to see a midwife. Had she been unable to come up with some sort of trade, she might have easily died having me."

Donna didn't like thinking about that. "Had I been a poor District woman, I'd have died giving birth to my fourth. It's strange to think about."

The guard scooped a small handful of berries from the bucket. "I'm sorry if this is a personal question, but why didn't you get your stretch marks removed?"

Donna glanced down at her stomach. "Cheapness," she said. "Reconstructive surgery is covered, but stretch mark removal is cosmetic, so you have to pay out of pocket for it. And in any case, nobody but my husband saw me naked, so it didn't matter."

"Huh. I didn't realize-"

"-that we could be pragmatic in stuff like that? Don't worry. I know what the television showed back then."

The guard nodded, looking awkward. "I guess that was just part of the propaganda. Make you people look like a different species, even though we're all just people."

"How much do you remember?"

Eating berries one by one, the guard took some time to answer. "I vaguely remember the last few Games. I remember the arrest of my aunt and uncle clearly, but nothing else, really. When Coin was shot, my older brother flew into a rage. He was only nine, and he was afraid it meant the fighting would start again."

All of them had thought it meant the fighting would start again. Donna had hoped it would mean that the trial would not take place, as had the others. The guard looked uncomfortable talking, so Donna tried to cheer her up. "Bet you never thought you'd be having a civil conversation with me of all people, huh?"

The guard smiled slightly. "I didn't know who you are until we were briefed."

That was very common. Even now, most people only knew that some sort of Games criminals were being held in the Supermax. "In general, though. Imagine if you were five, and someone told you you'd grow up and watch the Head Engineer of the Hunger Games pick berries in the shadow of guard towers as two of the Peacekeepers who had terrorized your District solved rebuses."

"I think I'd just have been extremely confused." The guard looked at her berry-stained hand. "Though I think I'd have liked the idea, even back then. I've always been idealistic about the justice system, ever since I decided I wanted to become a prison guard to make sure my aunt and uncle were treated well."

"How were they treated?" Donna asked.

The guard shrugged and leaned back against the tree, hands linked behind her head. "Forced to work in a factory where dangerous chemicals were used. They were mostly healthy when freed, but they died of cancer within years."

For many people, liberation had come too late. "That's terrible," Donna said, acutely aware of how pathetic that sounded coming from her of all people.

"That's how it went," the guard said emotionlessly. "They actually got into a nasty fight with my parents just after it all ended. They supported Coin's crazy idea of a final Hunger Games, and my parents thought it was absurd to punish innocent children and let the vast majority of the real criminals get off scot-free." Donna was unsure of what to say, but the guard kept on talking. "Though my parents thought for a while that you should all have been put against the wall, so yeah."

"And here you are, having a civil conversation with me." Theodosius stepped outside and took off his shoes. Donna mentally urged him to hurry up.

The guard nodded. "Odd, right? When I was a child, I was afraid of growing up. But when I actually turned twelve, it took me weeks to realize what that would have meant before."

"I'm glad," Donna said sincerely. She watched Theodosius slowly walk up to them.

"Yeah," the guard sighed. "Is that your friend?" she asked, sitting up and pointing to Theodosius. Donna nodded and waved Theodosius over. He picked up his pace.

"The berries are good, aren't they?" he asked, taking a few from the bucket and sitting down. Donna moved over so that he could lean against the tree. She sat cross-legged on the dry grass, facing them. "What were you talking about?"

Donna couldn't remember. "Not much of a conversation so far. Just jumping around from topic to topic."

"Those are the best conversations," Theodosius said happily. "You're new here. Where are you from?"

"Small factory town in Three."

"Uh, what party are you going to be voting for in the upcoming elections?"

"I don't know." The guard scratched her head. "You?"

"We're not allowed to vote," Donna reminded her. "The two of us will be voting in the elections after that, though."

The guard furrowed her eyebrows. "Why not? They can't just take away your civil rights like that. And Best got that card, too."

"They can and they did." Donna wasn't even annoyed about it anymore. "It doesn't matter. What does your family do?"

That evening, a guard slipped her a note from Livia. One of their old coworkers wasn't interested in helping out financially anymore, but Livia had managed to get a book deal and was already looking for prospective editors.

Donna knew the old coworker - she had made an incautious statement once, and Donna had had to save her. I helped you back then, she wrote on the back of the paper. Help me out now. She also asked Livia to start looking for historians who could check everything and make sure it was correct.

The piece of paper was mostly blank, so she tore off a section and used it to write her diary entry.

04/08/79 Best got card from president today, congratulating him on turning one hundred. He once asked to be executed, but now he's not interested in dying. Like all the others, he hopes he'll be released with Theodosius and I. He told a few new guards the story about the bald ensign, the dinosaur costume, and several crates of vodka. I wonder how often he has told the story. Another new guard talked to Theodosius and I about all sorts of things. She's from Three and is thirty years old. Her aunt and uncle were arrested for allegedly organizing a strike and were forced to work with dangerous chemicals, resulting in their deaths from cancer several years later. Her mother nearly died giving birth to her, because they were unable to afford proper healthcare. I told her about my own experiences as a mother, and Theodosius made jokes about how lucky he was to be able to offload all the hard parts on Cynthia. I pointed out that Dem did the actual raising, which is infinitely more difficult, and he had to agree. In hindsight, both of us agree that we should have spent more time with our children. What are they going to do with sixty-two-year-old strangers?