The Unexpected Tribute, Chapter 11
by Technomad
Katniss Everdeen
When Peeta got back, I listened intently to his story about what he had seen and done out in the streets of the Capitol. I had to admit, I envied him the opportunity. This was my second trip to the Capitol, and if that sociopathic monster hadn't altered the long-standing rules of the Hunger Games, I could have been accompanying him. I knew that my life expectancy was short, and wanted to grasp greedily at whatever experiences I could.
Our quarters lacked no luxury I could name or think of, but I still wanted out. I'm an outdoor girl, and being kept inside as long as I'd been was grating on my nerves. I wanted to see the sky above me, feel the wind on my cheeks, and feel good honest earth beneath my feet, instead of endless carpets that muffled sound.
That was one reason I was such a harridan about Haymitch apparently ending up in bed with Johanna Mason. I didn't begrudge either of them such pleasure as they could grab. I'd have been a raving hypocrite if I had. But my nerves were more and more on edge, the closer the time for the opening of the Quarter Quell came. I was off my feed, and tended to jump at unexpected noises. When I snapped at Haymitch, though, he gave me a look that really frightened me. He looked at me as though we were in the Games against each other...and I remembered that he'd won a Quarter Quell.
Peeta, that sweetheart, did his best to comfort me, but I could tell that behind his facade, he was on edge, too. In the night, I could hear him crying in his sleep, and I woke up with wet cheeks myself. I'd dreamed of Prim. I wondered what he had dreamed of, but even by that time, there were lines I did not know how to cross.
It occurred to me to wonder what Haymitch dreamed about. At that thought, I shuddered. There are things I would much rather never know. Although we were now partners in the Hunger Games, I never forgot that he was older than I, and had been involved with the Hunger Games since before I was born. Did he dream of his Games? Did he dream of the Tributes before us, the ones he hadn't been able to bring home alive? I couldn't imagine having had to be a Mentor for as long as he'd been. No wonder he drank!
Over breakfast, Haymitch was very interested in what Peeta had to report. He had known Edison Smith for some time, and thought very well of him. "I don't know but that Eddie's one of the smartest of all us Victors," he commented. "He won his Game by diverting an electrical cable that had been set up as a trap, electrocuting the entire Career pack at once while they were crossing a stream."
I shuddered at that. I remembered slogging through several streams when I was in my own Games, and thought about how it would have been to be struck down without even knowing what had hit me. I never ceased to marvel at the sick ingenuity that went into putting each Arena together. No two were alike, and all were lethal in their own way.
If the people who did that put their minds to improving Panem, instead of finding new ways to kill Tributes in amusing ways, Panem would be a paradise instead of the hell on earth it was for all but the topmost elite, I thought. Even Capitol citizens walked in fear, I now knew. They may have been better-fed and better-looked-after than we in the Districts, but one hint of dissent could send any of them to become an Avox. I shuddered at the thought.
And, speaking of Capitol citizens, the door opened and in came Effie Trinket. To someone who didn't know her, she would have looked her usual air-headed, bubbly self. I had come to know her, though. A man might not have noticed these details, but I did. She wore a lot less makeup than usual, and her wig and clothes were not nearly as flamboyant as many things I'd seen her wear. She was worried.
"Well," she said. "Things are getting interesting here. I have never seen so much discontent in my entire life." She lowered her voice. "People are calling for the Games to be canceled. The bookmakers are even taking bets on whether or not that'll happen." She looked around uneasily. "There were some public rallies in support of canceling the Quarter Quell. I don't think anybody was actually arrested, but the Peacekeepers were very edgy. All it would have taken would have been one little thing going wrong, and there could have been riots."
"What are the odds?" asked Haymitch. "The bookies are pretty good at figuring out odds, usually."
"I don't know, Haymitch," Effie answered. "I don't gamble, myself. I'm not allowed to, as a Hunger Games official. I was mostly interested in getting home to see my children."
"How are your children?" Ever since I'd found that Effie was a mother herself, I'd had a lot more sympathy for her. She was doing what she had to do to protect her babies, just as I was doing it for Prim. "Were they glad to see you?"
"Oh, they were delighted!" Effie's face lit up in a radiant smile. "They were so happy to see Mommy! They wanted to show me things they've done in school, and tell me all about what they've been doing with their friends!" I could picture the scene in my mind, although I had no idea of what a typical Capitol resident's home was like inside. Effie coming in the door, to the sounds of squeals of joy as her children ran to embrace their mother.
"They sound like the kids I know back home in District 12," Peeta remarked. "I do have younger siblings, and they have friends. When my brothers' and sisters' friends come around, they like to show me what they've been doing."
"I guess children are the same where ever you go," drawled Haymitch. "If you didn't know it, Effie, our Peeta went out on the town last night. With Edison Smith."
Effie's eyes went wide. "Oh? What did they find out?"
"People aren't happy," Peeta said. "Oh, and I am right here, you know. You needn't speak of me as though I were elsewhere." Effie blushed, and Haymitch looked a little embarrassed. "We noticed that the bookies aren't doing much business."
Effie looked very thoughtful. "I don't gamble, myself, but now that you mention it, I should have seen those places packed after your interviews." She gave me a conspiratorial wink. "Oh, and congratulations on your wedding! I only wish I could have been there to see it myself!"
"Thanks, Effie," I said, deadpan. "The news was a surprise to me, too." Effie turned pink. "I also hadn't been aware that I was pregnant." Peeta and Haymitch both looked distinctly sheepish. "I guess that sort of thing inevitably comes out in the end, though."
It took them a few seconds to realize that I'd made a joke. I was rather surprised at having done so, myself. I have my virtues, I suppose, but I'm not known for my great sense of humor. When they got the joke, Effie started giggling helplessly, Peeta blushed bright red (and I couldn't help noticing just how cute he is when he blushes) and Haymitch let out an almighty snicker. We're fairly strait-laced in District 12, but rough jokes do circulate.
"Do you think that they might call off these Games?" I asked. "Or, if they feel they must go ahead, do a re-Reaping in the Districts?" While I didn't like the thought of any more innocents fed into the meat-grinder that was the Arena, I liked the idea of me (and Haymitch, never forget him!) going back home to District 12, alive. That way, there would be three of us to mentor the new Tributes, and we could live out our lives. Like we had fully expected to, before that monster in the Presidential Palace changed the rules to get back at us for making a fool of him and his Game Master in the last Hunger Games.
"I don't think so," Effie answered. She looked very sad about it. "President Snow has too much political capital invested in the Quarter Quell. Canceling it or postponing it would put his position in danger."
"You mean that we might not have President Snow any more?" asked Haymitch. His face twisted in mock sorrow. "Oh, what a catastrophe that would be!" Then he noticed the way Effie was looking at him, and shut up. Fast. The last time I'd seen anybody looking at anybody that way, I'd been in the Arena, and the people doing it fully intended to kill me. Hastily, I revised my opinion of Effie, yet again. Under all that Capitol frippery, there was a very tough person. Had she been a District citizen, and been Reaped for the Hunger Games, she might have come home a Victor.
"You hate President Snow," Effie said, her voice very even. Her face twisted into something nobody sane would call a smile. "So do I. So do many other people, here in the Capitol. And yet, we support him. Do you care to guess just why?"
I thought about it, and came up with a conclusion I didn't much like. "Because the people waiting to grab his job are much worse?"
"Bingo!" Effie said, just as though she had spent years playing that idiotic game in the Hob with the old people in District 12. "Quite a few of the people in line for his job after he goes make him look like the kindly grandfather figure he poses as in public. You don't see it - most people in the Capitol never see it - but behind the scenes, he has to maneuver constantly to keep his position. It's like being the head of a pack of wolves. One hint of weakness, one mistake, and the same people who chant his praises now will tear him to pieces."
"So, it's Hobson's choice," said Peeta bitterly. "For us in the Districts, and for you in the Capitol."
"Got it in one," Effie said sadly. "But it's just a few hours before the Games begin, so I have some things for you all." She pulled out a box. Inside were a couple of gold pins, and a gold bracelet. "Gold - it's for my hair. For you to remember me by, if we don't see each other again." She was beginning to tear up. "Pins for both of you boys to wear, and for you, Katniss, this bracelet. I had them commissioned."
I admired the beautiful work on my bracelet, and felt my throat tighten. "Effie, you shouldn't have done this!"
"What other use do I have for my money?" Effie's eyes began to swim with unshed tears. "My children are well-provided-for, I have everything I need or could ever want. And I wanted to show that we are a team!" With that, the dam burst, and Effie broke down crying. Haymitch and Peeta looked at each other helplessly. But I knew what to do.
"I know you want things to be different, Effie," I said, taking her into my arms. "We don't blame you for one second. It's not your fault." Her body shook with sobs. We held each other tightly. I wanted to cry, too, but I felt that I had to be strong.
"And we want things to be different, too," came a voice from behind me. Startled, I turned, and gasped to see who had come. Octavia, Venia, and Flavius had come in, with Cinna right behind them. Eight other people I didn't recognize were also arriving, and I knew these had to be Haymitch's prep teams, from his previous Game and this one, and his stylists, come to say their farewells.
I had always thought that my prep team were pretty shallow, but the tears in their eyes were very real. "We wanted to - to let you know - what a privilege it has been, to make you look your best," sniffled Venia. When I let go of Effie, each of them claimed a hug, and my shoulders were as damp as theirs when we finally were able to let go.
I hadn't realized that they cared as much as they clearly did, and saying goodbye to them was as hard as it would have been saying goodbye to Prim and my mother. Even though I felt that I was going to my death, I bled inside to see them so unhappy.
Across the room, Haymitch was bidding farewell to his own prep teams. They were nearly as cut up as mine were. Being men, they were more restrained than I was, contenting themselves with shakes of the hand and slaps on the back, along with wishes for good luck and expressions of sympathy.
Cinna stepped up. "Katniss, I just want you to know. I'm still not allowed to wager on the Games. But if I could bet - I'd bet on you."
It took me a little while to get myself under control enough to reply: "Thank you, but I can't claim all the credit by any means. Effie said it best earlier: 'We are a team!'" At those words, everybody applauded.
The next day, the Peacekeepers came to escort Haymitch and me to where we would be put on the elevators that would lift us up into the Arena. I was slightly surprised at how good Haymitch looked in his Arena uniform. He gave me a wink.
"You're looking good," he said. I found myself blushing. While I've never thought of myself as the kind of shallow girl who spent all her time obsessing about men, like a lot of my idiotic classmates back in District 12, I'm still female enough to appreciate male attention. Haymitch was old enough to be my father, but he clearly still noticed women. As that Johanna Mason creature would testify!
"So are you, Haymitch." Just then, the Peacekeepers indicated that we should shut up, so we shut up. In silence, each one alone with his or her thoughts, we were herded down one corridor after another, to where the elevators were that would take us up into the Arena.
I wondered where Cinna, and Effie, and my prep team were. I hoped they were all right. I was especially worried about Cinna. I was afraid that after what my dress had done at Caesar Flickerman's interview, that sociopath Snow was cooking up something really dreadful to do to him. I was pretty sure that Haymitch's people were safe. Unlike me, he hadn't inadvertently become a symbol of rebellion.
We finally came to where the elevators were. Just like last time, they were transparent. I got into one, and Haymitch got into the other. Once we were both in, he gave me a wink and a thumbs-up.
In some ways, the wait for the ride up into the Arena was worse than the Games, themselves. It wasn't more than a couple of minutes before the elevator went up, but in that time I had plenty of horrible possibilities chase each other through my overheated imagination.
The Gamemakers' sick ingenuity knew no limits. Some years, they built a desert, with only a few sources of water. And, just for extra amusement for the audience, sometimes some, or all, of the water sources in such an Arena were booby-trapped, or poisoned. One year every spring in the Arena had been heavily spiked with hallucinogens. I'd had enough dreadful hallucinations after my encounter with the tracker-jackers last time around to want no more of that!
Once, they had dumped their Tributes into a snow-covered winter wilderness, but I was pretty certain they wouldn't do that again. That Game had turned out to be a frost in several senses of the word, since most, if not quite all, of the Tributes had just holed up to try to stay warm, and frozen to death quietly. Without gory fights between Tributes, the Games were just not as much fun for the audience. I'd heard that that Gamemaker had disappeared soon after the Game was declared over. I didn't think he'd suddenly decided to retire "to spend more time with his family."
When the elevator started to take us up, I saw something that startled me. Cinna had somehow or other got in to where we were, and he was waving goodbye to me. My eyes filled with tears as I waved him goodbye...then I screamed with horror. Three burly Peacekeepers had grabbed him, and were beating him brutally.
"No! No! Let him go! Let him GO!" I shrieked, but they paid no mind to me whatsoever. As I watched helplessly, they beat him to the floor, then stomped him expertly. I knew enough about how bodies worked from my years as my mother's assistant to know that there was little, if any, chance he'd survive such treatment.
I knew this had to be Snow's work. His sick little farewell to me. It wasn't enough for him to have changed the long standing rules of the Hunger Games to haul me (and, he had hoped, Peeta) back into the Arena to be killed. It wasn't enough for him to force us to go through the same grotesque rigmarole as we had had to endure the last times we were Tributes. He had had it in for Cinna, and what better thing to do (from his skewed perspective) than to kill two Mockingjays with one stone by making sure that I saw Cinna being killed?
All he had done was to fill me with rage and determination. One way or the other, I vowed, I'd make it through this Game, preferably while keeping Haymitch and Peeta alive...and then I'd make him pay!
When we emerged, I found myself standing on a podium, just like last time. But this time, I was surrounded by water. A channel lined with rocks and filled with water stretched out in front of me. At the end of the channel, there was an island that was clearly meant as the Cornucopia. It was filled with everything one might need. I spotted a very nice bow and quiver of arrows.
As the cannon roared to signal the start of the Game, I did a clean dive into the water. I'd learned to swim while on hunting trips with my father, so this was nothing new. As I swam strongly toward the Cornucopia, one thought reverberated through my mind:
This is no place for a Girl On Fire.