The next evening, I make the slow walk down the dimly lit hallway toward Venus' apartment door. Two more bodyguards wait outside. They snap to attention when they see me approach.
"Relax, relax," I say quietly, not wanting to be heard inside the apartment. "How is she? Anything significant?"
"Negative, Sir. She hasn't left the place all day. Whenever we try to check on her, she just yells at us to leave her alone."
"Roger, Thank You," I say swiping my thumb across the lock and slowly opening the door.
As I step inside and close the door behind me, I see Venus sitting in the living room. Her back is to me as she sits on a stool in front of a wooden table. Her hair is tied in a sloppy bun behind her head and a stained white apron is tied behind her neck. Her hands are covered with wet, red clay and though I cannot see what they are working on, it seems methodical and focused.
I take a few steps toward her before she raises her right index finger motioning for me to wait. I look into the kitchen to see that it is as untouched as it was the last time I was here.
"They say you haven't left the apartment all day."
"Maybe if they hadn't been so busy spying on me for you all day that would have seen that I had work to do." She says without moving her gaze from her project.
"They're not spying for me, Venus. They're just making sure that you're still safe."
"Those are the same thing to me," she mutters angrily. "You know what the hardest part of the last twenty years has been for me, little brother? Knowing that even when I'm totally by myself, off in my cabin and trying to shut out this miserable place we're forced to live in, I'm never really alone. Every move I make is probably tracked by some thermal camera on a high flying drone, or by some sensitive microphone hidden in the trees outside my window."
"You could have chosen to stay like me."
"Then I'd have been watched even more closely…like you are, little brother." She still hasn't turned to look at me.
"You're probably right, V." I turn back and look at the kitchen again. "Have you at least eaten something today?"
"Of course, not. I haven't signed up for my tesserae like you have."
"What are you talking about?"
"You seem so anxious to stay in this world that you've never actually wondered if it is worth staying in. So, you let the government do with you as they please in exchange for a few meager scraps of sustenance, which in your case is just enough tolerance to make you doubt who you really are."
"Venus, you're not making any sense. You have to eat something."
"And why is that, Ares?"
"To keep you alive!"
"'Man shall not live by bread alone'" I remember hearing that somewhere and found it very fitting considering the name of our great nation. However, for us Snows especially, I think a more fitting phrase is 'Man shall not continue to live for bread alone.'"
"I still don't understand, V."
"There, finished," she says with an abrupt sense of contentment. She pushes herself away from the table and proudly displays what she has been working on. It is a Mockingjay, rendered in stunning clay detail, but it is chained to the branch it sits upon. She looks at me, trying to find the expected sense of outrage in my eyes, but there is only sadness and confusion.
"You're scaring me, Venus. Really, you are."
"All I want to do is be free, Ares. I want to soar through blue skies and sing at the top of my lungs, but it will never happen, because as I long as I am here I will never be Venus, I will only be Venus Snow. The only reason they decided not to kill us when we were children is that by doing so they would become too much like us, bloodthirsty, callous, and pitiless.
"Venus, that was not us."
"Are you sure? You forget, little brother, that I was old enough to watch the Games sitting on Grandpa's knee in the Presidential Mansion, but those were not the traumatic reruns that were forced upon us later to drive us insane. That was a grandfather showing his granddaughter what he was capable of, and with his commentary, I learned to love the Hunger Games as he did. I marveled at the spectacle, followed the tributes, cheered for the favorites, and reveled in the carnage just like him. I wanted those District peons to die for my entertainment. Then, after the Rebels won, I spent five years being tormented by the realization that I was, in fact, a sadistic psychopath for letting those thoughts enter my brain. Youth and innocence protected you, Dear Ares, you were the youngest of us all, and therefore had the least sins to repent for. Why do you think you were the only one who chose to stay in the Capitol? I'll tell you why. It's because you were the only one who could stay in that place. It was lost to the rest of us forever.
Therefore, I am tired of living for Panem's desire to keep us alive so that they don't have to dirty their hands by finishing the job themselves. Rather, they simply have to sit idly by while someone else does it for them. Do you understand now? I am tired of living for Panem alone."
Suddenly, what she is saying makes sense to me, but I wish it didn't.
"So how do I break the Mockingjay's chains?" I ask.
"You can start by getting rid of these prison guards you have watching me and let me go home."
"I can't protect you there, Venus."
"Ares, I never asked for your protection."
"Then, think about it this way: I can't make sure you'll be safe there."
"Exactly"
"So, you want them to take you?"
"If it means that somebody feels that justice has finally been served, so be it."
"You understand they'll probably kill you, Venus?" I look at her for a reaction to this statement, but there is none. "You understand that, don't you? You understand what that will do to me? You're my sister!"
"Ares, no matter what happens to me, dead or alive, I'll always be your sister and I will always love you. Now, I just ask you show that same love back to me." I turn away because I don't want her to see the tears forming in my eyes but it is no use. Venus stands, crosses to me and plants a soft kiss on my cheek.
My thoughts drift back to what Lizzy told me last night. When I asked for her permission, her response was so simple, direct, and perfect I may never have thought of it:
"Why don't you ask Venus what she wants?" Well, now it seems I have my answer.
I reach into my pocket, pull out Ohm's cube, and place it into Venus' hands.
"Just promise me that you will always keep this with you. Hide it and make sure it goes wherever you go."
"What is this?" Venus asks sarcastically, "another one of the Capitol's spy devices?"
"No, this one is mine. It's so that if you are taken, I can find those responsible."
"What if I don't want you to find them? What if I want you to go back to your loving wife and have a long and happy life?"
"Because I'm the last of the 16, and I don't think they'll give me that option. If it comes down to it, I want to meet them on my own terms." Venus closes her hands around the cube and gives a subtle nod. It is now my turn to give her a soft kiss on the cheek.
"I love you, V. I'll make sure they'll be here in the morning to take you back to District 7." At that, I turn towards the door and leave knowing it will probably be the last time I ever see my sister alive.
The next few weeks pass in agony. I have trouble sleeping, my nights passing in alternating bouts of insomnia and vicious dreams of an adult Venus being ripped to pieces in an arena while a child version of herself laughs in contentment. Even Lizzy's sagely advice seems to do nothing to ease my pain. I rarely accompany her to the Spym anymore.
Everyone at the Ministry has even started to notice how much this seems to be weighing on me. At first, President Holmes couldn't understand why I would send Venus away without any protection, but soon she realized that it wasn't my decision. Even Sturm seems to soften to my plight. I'm not sure if he is feeling actual pity for me or if this situation reminds him of his own loss. Perhaps it doesn't matter either way.
Holmes excuses me from most of my additional duties. Thankfully, that also includes the monthly meeting with Ohm. Apparently, this annoyed him greatly, but I don't think I could face that man secretly knowing that it was him who put this plan in motion with his damn cube. I keep the receiver for it in my pocket at all times. Every few minutes, I obsessively check its screen to ensure that the signal never leaves Venus' cabin in the woods of District 7, and it never does.
When I am not staring into space, I am training: marksmanship, endurance, physical fitness, even infiltration. I still don't know what I will face when the time comes and have to be ready for anything.
One evening, I arrive home as usual. I go through my routine, grab a drink from the refrigerator, but instead of finding Lizzy's arms I have taken to staring out the large window in the dining room. As the sun sets, sending sparkling rays off the top of the Capitol's skyline, my mind is lost in thought. I can sense Lizzy's presence, occasionally glancing up to check on me as she prepares dinner in the kitchen, but she knows me well enough not to bother me while I am like this.
"BEEP, BEEP, BEEP," I receive a message on my communicuff. Not an unusual occurrence, so I don't bother checking it right away. Finally when I press the button on my wrist to display it, only a single sentence appears:
"The first Snow has fallen." I rip the cube's receiver out of my pocket and am immediately gripped by panic. Without even thinking to say goodbye to Lizzy, I grab my jacket and run out of the door. I sprint down the hall to the elevator and select the roof. There is no time to go to the Ministry. I am already on my communicuff, ordering them to send a hovercraft that I have prepped with all the equipment that I think I will need. However, I now fear all of it will be unnecessary.
Five minutes later, the craft appears above my building, lowers its ladder, and then I am frozen in a column of energy as I am pulled aboard. I run straight for the cockpit.
"What coordinates, Sir?" The pilot asks. I give him the location of Venus' cabin in District 7. The flight will take two hours, and they are the longest two hours of my life. Even as Lizzy frantically tries to reach me on my communicuff, I ignore her calls. I can't tell her anything until I am sure, but repeated checks of the locator's receiver seems to confirm my worst instincts.
I order the pilot to make a combat approach, flying at full speed toward the cabin and dropping me off fifty feet from the front door. I hit the ground with a rifle in my hands and run toward the cabin. There is not a single light or sound coming from inside. Without stopping, I kick the door from its hinges, run inside and click on the tactical light mounted to my rifle. Frantically, I scan from room to room.
"Venus! Venus! Are you here?" I know that there will not be an answer. I reach her sculpting studio. The white beam from my rifle scans the room until it stops on the table. A wet mound of clay that still bears the marks of Venus' hands rests in the center. Directly in front of it, there is a single object. The locator is still here, but my sister has vanished.