Chapter Two: The Proposal

On the train, I lean my head against the window and stare outside as the world races by. I see a lot of green, which should encourage me. Instead I am just tired.

Effie is my escort to District 3, probably so I don't do anything to hurt myself on or off the train. It stings of déjà vu, as if I'm on my way to another Hunger Games with Peeta. I try to ignore it. She tells me Haymitch mentioned my book to her and I tell her a few things he and I have included, like Rue and Boggs and Maysilee, and Effie keeps sighing, "Oh, Katniss," so I don't tell her about the drawing of Peeta because this tires me too.

When the train stops, she directs me to the Victor's Village and leaves me there to go meet up with an old friend, which makes me feel like a child being dropped off at school. I shrug it off and find my way to Beetee's workshop. Since there have been only two victors from District 3, he made use of the space in the extra houses when he ran out of room in his own. Wiress's is available too, now, but I figure he's chosen to respect and preserve her space.

He's clearly put his winnings to good use. There's a winding staircase that leads to a vast, technology-packed basement. Screens, wires, and machines everywhere. I recognize a lot of equipment from District 13 and the Capitol. There's even a tall glass cylinder and metal plate that looks like it's ready to launch me into an arena.

I hear movement and tinkering, so I call out, "Beetee?"

A head pops up from over in the corner. "Katniss," he says, his voice weary but warm and relieved at the sight of me. He rolls past some equipment and makes his way towards me with a smile of greeting. There are bags under his eyes and his beard has filled in considerably. It's clear he's spent a lot of all-nighters working on this project of his.

"What is all this?" I ask, cutting to the chase. "Why did you ask me to come here?"

He waves me along and wheels himself to a computer where he types something in and flicks at the screen a few times. Then he turns back to me.

"First off, I never officially extended my condolences to you, and I wanted to do so in person," he says softly. "It didn't fully hit me until Coin gathered us for the vote. Seeing you there, but no Peeta… I couldn't… and your sister so soon after…" He is like Wiress, his words fading in the air. He takes my hand in his. "I'm truly sorry, Katniss, for what happened that day."

I don't know what to say, but I don't have Peeta to say things for me. "I know," I push out. "Why else."

"I told you, I think we can help one another." He releases my hand, straightens his glasses, and peers at the screen again, dragging images this way and that. "After the war, the innocent lives lost… lives of the victors torn apart by grief… guilt devouring so many of us from the inside… I dreamed of worlds where wrongs were set right. Of second chances – third chances. Of timelines where we won with the least innocent blood spilt." He glances over at me. "Perhaps you've heard of the string theory?"

I nod; I have a vague idea of it. "I didn't think the multiverse or parallel dimensions were your kind of thing."

"They are now," he says, elbowing a stack of physics books out of the way. "And that, Miss Everdeen, is exactly what I've been delving into for the past few months." With that, he taps exuberantly at a few more buttons and gestures behind him to the glass cylinder, which begins to come alive inside with shimmering, sparking, and vibration. It reminds me of the force field in the training area with more flecks of color.

"What is that?" I ask, baffled by its energy.

Beetee smiles. "A portal, if you will," he tells me. "A means of multidimensional travel. And I believe I've finally made it work."

I stare at the portal in quiet disbelief. "Beetee, that's not possible…"

"The same could be said about our current technology by people who lived a thousand years ago," Beetee counters. "Five years ago, many people thought it impossible to overthrow the Capitol and end the Hunger Games. Yet here we are." He looks over at me, solemn but proud. "Impossible things happen every single day, Katniss. I've always endeavored to make the impossible, in fact, possible."

Pretty words. "Can that thing bring back my sister?" I deadpan, trying not to raise my voice. "Can it bring back Peeta?"

His smile plummets. "No," he says. "I haven't – I don't know yet for sure. It was designed with that and you in mind, but such close, specific alternate timelines… the odds of it taking you there—"

"—aren't in my favor," I finish for him, my bitterness choking me on that last word.

"I need to test it," Beetee clarifies quickly. "Think of it, Katniss. It can take you away from all of this. Take you to a different world, a different time. It's, as I said, an escape."

My muscles begin to unclench, but my mind is buzzing just like the portal. If it's true, then what he has done is amazing. I can't deny that. My interest is piqued, even though I try not to show it.

After a long pause, I ask quietly, "Why me?"

"Why you?" he repeats, like the question is amusing yet strange to him.

"Plenty of people have suffered, from the Games and the war," I point out calmly. "Why me, why not Haymitch?"

"Haymitch has Effie," Beetee replies, and I bristle. Of course I'm picked because even Haymitch has someone to love and I don't. Poor, lonely Katniss, who lost Peeta and Prim in the same week and drove away Gale after it all. Even Johanna, who claimed there was no one left she loved, has apparently rarely been apart from Finnick and Annie since the war's end. But I'm the crazy cat lady who eats Greasy Sae's meals and bursts in on Haymitch and Effie's kisses.

All of this must show on my face, because Beetee takes one look and continues.

"He's also old, Katniss. Old like me," he says. "He's tired of adventures and wants to rest at home with Effie and his geese. But you are still young. You have your whole life ahead of you. I know you think there is not much left for you here… I figured if anyone needed a fresh start, it would be you."

"I have nothing left to lose," I murmur to the floor.

I know deep down Beetee is right. I don't want to be in District 12 anymore, where I am living just to live and all that I used to survive for has gone. I would miss my mother, who is in District 4, and Haymitch, but it's not enough. He of all people knows what I'm going through, but he cannot help me. He cannot give me what I need. The only escape he can offer me is in a bottle. Beetee, on the other hand…

"Given some more time, weeks or more likely months of readjustments," Beetee muses, poring over his books and screens and data, "it's possible I could perfect it enough so that we could directly locate the parallel universe where Peeta and your sister are alive. But it's ready now." He peers at me hopefully over the top of his glasses. "I just need a test subject."

I consider the portal for a moment, watch as it pulses invitingly. "So it'll take me someplace different?" I ask. "Someplace new?"

Beetee nods. "I don't have exact control over where you might end up. The possibilities are endless. But I will ask you to wear a very small camera so I'll be able to see for myself and establish a connection from both ends. Perhaps then I will be able to locate you, and send things to you if you have need of them."

Might, possibilities, perhaps… there's a lot of ambiguity here. I really am a test subject in this situation. A tentative question comes to mind. "Will I be able to come back?"

Beetee tilts his head at me knowingly. "Will you want to come back?"

I falter. His question is better than mine. He was right to select me as his test subject – we can help one another. If this thing works, I will go to a universe that is not ravaged by Panem's war, or haunted by the Hunger Games. Maybe a vast wilderness filed with wildlife where I can lose myself in the forests and the ghosts can't find me.

If something goes terribly wrong, well, then maybe I will just be gone. Gone like Cinna and Peeta and Prim and Rue. And Beetee knows that would make me happy too.

"I'll need some time to think about it, and say my goodbyes," I tell him, and crack a wry grin. "Get my affairs in order, as it were."

"Of course," Beetee says encouragingly. "Make all the preparations you need."

The portal thrums with potential, with promise. I walk over to it and place my hand gingerly against the protective glass, feeling the energy inside. My heart and stomach do flips, and I almost pull my hand away, as if afraid the portal will somehow suck me in and take me before I'm ready. Then I realize I've been ready since I woke up in the hospital after losing Prim.

"I just want to be someplace where the train ride is officially over," I say quietly. "Someplace I don't have to be the Mockingjay anymore."

I see Beetee's understanding smile through his reflection in the glass. "I think that can be arranged."