Chapter 52: Blight Gavin

Britannicus thought the guard assignments for the tributes this year made absolutely no sense.

He had been recalled back to base in the city during his deployment to Eight to act as reinforcements for this summer's Games; the deeply controversial win from that Twelve SOB two seasons ago was apparently still making the President overly cautious. On the cattle cars riding the rails back to the high-rises with his comrades, Britannicus – "Tanni" to his friends – had figured he would remain assigned to the district delegation matching the stamp on his deployment papers. That he would be with the Eights, probably on either Woof Rayon or Indigo Weaver's protective detail. Or even the four-man team guarding Savera Inchcape; these days, the sweet little old lady from the 9th Games was starting to show her age, and was supposed to be an easy, stress-free assignment.

But no. Tanni had been shuffled in a dance of the lemons to the next district over. The Sevens, who required two full protective details more than the Eights to shield their Victors and which just meant incurring further expenses of Capitol taxpayers' money. Tanni had been disappointed, but he couldn't disobey direct orders, so he'd nodded and saluted his commanding officer. He just hoped this wasn't to be the first signs of a more permanent transfer. He was comfortable in Eight, settled, had even made some friends with the common folk…. including the married couple who lived just down the street from the Peacekeeper barracks. They had a daughter, Cecelia…. she was only ten, but Tanni could already tell she would grow into quite the beauty as she got older…

At the very least, Tanni had been hoping to land a slot on a Victor's protective detail. Of all the districts, Seven had better pickings than most – five champions to choose from. They said Forrest Barker could talk to a robot and engage it in good conversation. Leif Sequoia wasn't as easy to communicate with, for obvious reasons, but there were Avoxes on hand to teach you rudimentary sign language if a cadet was willing to learn. When he wasn't working in Control Central, Rowan Palmer spent much of his time golfing, and was known to take his agents out onto the links for a couple free rounds. And there wasn't anyone involved in the Games who didn't love the Ivy-Fonio mother and son team.

Tanni was thoroughly bummed when he didn't even get that. Instead, he had been assigned to tribute duty. Tribute duty.

And between the two options, the Peacekeeper lieutenant was certain that he'd gotten the short end of the stick.

Blight Gavin had been nothing but snarky, sarcastic and irritable since he'd met the sixteen-year-old. Tanni learned quickly not to get on the drama queen's bad side – he had ready, eloquent barbs for anyone who might dare to cross him. The softness in Blight's face and the way he carried himself was all that belied the tornado of brittle bitterness underneath.

And although Blight didn't offer up details about what he was in for (and Tanni didn't press for them), it was obvious that there was bitterness churning inside the boy from 7. Just as sure as Tanni knew that the kid absolutely did not want to be here. That wasn't what made him stand out, however – few tributes outside of the Careers ever did want to be here, bound for a fight to the death. What kept Blight apart from the crowd was that he was immersively observant. Intelligent. But also resentful – the kind of resentment that could productively motivate a tribute into having something to prove. Hovering a respectable distance behind the kid everywhere he went except when he was in Training, Tanni could hear the upstart who oddly reminded him of an elf or a wee sprite mumbling to himself.

"I'll show them…. I'll show them how I feel about being gang-pressed into the Games! Then we'll see how they like it!"

Gang-pressed? Tanni didn't know how such a thing was possible – from what he'd remembered from watching the Reaping recaps, this boy had volunteered to be bound for the arena! Had the Peacekeeper cadet stopped to think about it more clearly, he probably should have taken his findings to his commanding officer, or even higher up – to the President. As it was, Tanni acted as Blight Gavin's shadow up until the moment he was directing him down into the catacombs below the arena, and into his private holding room that featured the awaiting launch tube.

Blight was surprisingly self-conscious when changing into his tribute uniform in front of Tanni, posted against the door to make sure the boy didn't try to run at the last minute. Finally, at the announcement of 30 seconds to launch, Tanni spoke.

"Do you need help up the accessible ramp, Mr. Gavin?" No tribute had yet been Reaped who required the use of a wheelchair, but knowing the unpredictability of the Games, such a scenario was bound to eventually manifest one day. Dell Fonio, the famed cripple from 9 who beat one of the very first arenas, apparently had pressed Congress to make all necessary disability accommodations for the future tributes. Capitol Times had run a story about it, or so Tanni had read.

At the Peacekeeper cadet's innocuous question, Blight bit his head off. "No, Commander, I don't need you to help me up the access ramp! And I sure as damn hell don't need you making fun of me by pretending to be all gracious, with your 'Mr. Blight this!' and 'Mr. Gavin that!'"

Tanni was taken aback, and even a little ticked off at the tribute's petulance. But his orders were to act only as a supervisor, so it wasn't like he could discipline the little bastard. He decided to take the unwarranted verbal abuse on the chin, but not before offering a piece of free advice:

"You might have better luck channeling that anger towards people who deserve it – like, say, the other tributes?"

The truly ugly grin that Blight sent his way as he stepped into the launch tube shook Tanni enough that his bones chilled. "Oh, you silly, naïve country rube of an SOB. You deserve to feel my anger just as much."

That was much as he could get out before the glass sealed around him, cutting off all sound, before the plate began to push him up, up, up into the arena.

Tanni didn't admit it, but he wouldn't want to be any of the other tributes getting launched right now.