Thank you so much for reviewing. Read on and enjoy.
Date: Year 10, February. Six months after Mags' victory.
"What are you, seventy?" Myia said with a laugh. "Or are those dietary supplements?"
Mags sighed softly as she contemplated the cocktail of pills she had to take every day. And this was just the midday mix... Doctor Alexanders had come in the early morning to collect a blood supply to do the first full follow up. She hoped the lack of relapses was a good sign.
"No, real meds," she said, shrugging it off, "I have a fussy immune system."
"You should be fine," Myia said as she took advantage of the mirror to rearrange her hair. She chuckled, putting a hand on the victor's upper arm. "You're taking enough to boost an army." She then frowned, concern darkening her face. "What is the life expectancy in Four?"
Mags bit her lip, taken by surprise. "I don't know. Barring accidents, people make plans until fifty. Few people reach sixty-five."
Myia winced, wrapping her arms around her slight chest. "How old is your mother?" She said, alarmed.
"Forty-two, but she has access to good healthcare now, don't worry about me," Mags said, bewildered by the woman's shock. It was rather sweet.
"Just forty-two? and you're eighteen? Oh dear, now I feel old," Myia said with a nervous giggle, "I can't imagine getting married, or having children so soon. It's such a big thing, so much responsibility..."
Mags bit back a chuckle. She wasn't surprised. Her late shopping session had shown her that Myia was very far from the norm. Fashion was feathers of all kinds, massive breasts and those horrible coif-furs, which were also belt-furs, and shoulder-furs in many cases. Myia was stunning but out of place, frozen in fairy-tale immaturity while the others paraded like predators ready to strike. A rude elderly woman had actually shoved her way through the crowd with a peacock wheel sprouting from her lower back.
Mags turned towards the bathroom window, admiring the cloudless sky. "Since we're early, can we walk to the station?" She asked. "It's a beautiful day."
She couldn't wait to be back in Four. Here shadows turned to threats and every unexpected noise made her tense. Her agitation would eventually be noticed and people would wonder what she had to hide. She sometimes felt as if there was suspicious branded in bold letters on her face every time she spoke to a Capitolite.
Myia gave her a quizzical glance before grinning ruefully. "Of course. The exercise will do me good."
She turned back to Mags as she finished tying the laces of her bright shawl. "Doesn't it bother you, all these questions on rebels? I mean, when it's starts being about a whole town, it's really like they were insulting the Districts and not just a few terrorists."
Mags' eyes widened as she finished zipping up her new red fox fur-coat, surprised by how thoughtful the question was. For the first time, she glimpsed the woman behind the juvenile appearance.
"Yes, it does," the victor admitted, "but I'm not surprised they feel the need to know. What else is there to ask me during interviews? The Games, the deaths? That would be crude," and any debate on the validity on the Hunger Games was evidently taboo. "People want to know they are safe, but as I told them, they mistake unrest caused by poor uneducated people with ideological rebellion or seeds of an armed uprising. I am sure the very rich have to be wary of crime in the Capitol streets too," she finished with a shrug.
She was very skeptical about her influence in the Capitol. The citizen of the fortress city, even those who held no strong animosity against the Districts, believed the poor deserved it and that those with merit would succeed like they deserved to. There was little room to act in.
Myia acknowledged her words by inclining her head. "Crooks and thieves thrive here. People like to gamble and drink, and when they're vulnerable..." Her creamy skin flushed with sudden anger, "I never drink, it makes people foul and dull, but also my evenings rather lonely," she said sadly.
Mags squeezed the other's arm. "Use a flashlight to signal all the other lonely people through your windows," she said brightly, "you might find enough to host an alcohol free party of your own."
The slender woman laughed, her shimmering hair making ripples. "Oh, don't I lack imagination," she plaintively said, her long lashes fluttering as she contemplated the idea.
If Mags had believed in fairies, they would have been like Myia. Mags had to take a picture of the woman, or Esperanza would never believe her.
"Hear that?" Myia asked.
Mags brought her focus back on the mostly deserted street. A soft rumble reached her ears, high-pitched jumbled sounds echoed against the tall buildings, dissolving in the clean winter air. Mags first thought her sense of orientation had left her and they were somehow back at the zoo. She smiled ruefully when the rising clamor left no room for doubt.
"Recess," Myia confirmed with a tender sigh, "that's Ursa Minor, the most expensive preschool in the city. I attended there many years ago."
Of course she had. Behind a tall metal fence, dozens of bustling children made circles, rolling huge colored balls to each other and chanting dissonant limericks.
"They're so cute," the woman gushed.
Mags' lips had parted in dismay. After seeing how pronounced gender differentiation was in the Capitol, she had imagined vain little girls with princess makeup and tough little boys zooming around dressed as their favorite fictional heroes and fooling around with elaborate toys. Reality was much different.
"They're so fat," she whispered. Plutarch was robust, almost intimidating for his age, and Mags had thought he would have towered over the other children. She had been completely mistaken. Less than a handful would fit in the children clothes sold in Creneis.
Myia frowned in annoyance. "They're kids, of course they're fat," she said, defensiveness creeping into her tone, "Kids are hungry. They'll start minding when they grow up and at sixteen they'll receive or work to pay for the alterations they want. Most girls start using dis-appetizers at eight or ten to regulate their weight but before, they're just kids. It's normal to be chubby at that age."
"Why don't they eat less?" Mags said. She couldn't comprehend how the Capitol had managed to make a simple thing so complicated. Dis-appetizers?
"Don't be cruel," Myia chided, "the food is there, in the fridge, on the table. They see their parents eat but aren't given the anti-assimilation pills, so what looks a normal amount to them makes them gain weight. As long as they're not morbidly obese, there's no danger. They'll have all the time to worry about their appearance later in life. Let them live," she said, smiling once more at the playing children.
Her smile fell slightly as Mags didn't reply. "I guess they're not taught restraint enough, but..." Myia sighed. "You're so lucky it's so easy for you to keep slim and healthy in the districts."
Mags small smile froze on her lips. She felt the urge to step away from Myia, as if stupidity was suddenly contagious.
"You have no idea how much pressure we're under to be young and attractive. Alterations are permanent and yet people expect you to change all the time or they call you boring," Myia continued, weariness entering her chiming voice. "You have to find who you are and not care about their opinions."
"I'm sorry, it must be very hard for you," Mags said, almost choking in an effort to bite back a vicious onslaught of sarcasm.
How had these people won the war?
"Security check!"
Mags felt a laugh escape her lips unbidden as she stepped out on District's Four windswept North-Western outpost station. It was great to be home.
"I'm clean, Marquise," she said brightly, her smile broadening as she locked eyes with her mother.
"How did you get the gorgeous fur? You rotten person," Marquise said, her voice thick with envy, "I can't believe it just took them six months to turn you in a high-rolling consumerist. What's in there?" Marquise said shrewdly, pointing at her slightly enhanced breasts.
"The second interview had an audience. I asked for whatever all those busty women were having," Mags deadpanned, "I also went shopping and bought a couple of cool bras."
The records were cold against her bare skin.
Marquise whistled. "Hot, Kyle's going to be so very hap-py," she sang. The young peacekeeper cleared her throat when she remembered Angelites was standing nearby and now glaring at her.
"What's in there?" Alaric said, much more professional as he pointed at her large suitcase.
"Presents," Mags said with a grin. Shopping for others had been twice the fun trying things on had been.
Marquise squealed. "You darling! Which one is mine?"
Mags laughed. "Let's get settled first. Where are we heading to?" She said, walking up to her mother. She embraced the woman, pausing to inhale the familiar perfume. "Hi, Mama," she whispered.
"Orithyia," Marquise supplied. "I'll finally be able to spend some of my pay. Do you think I should buy a pearl necklace or earrings, Alaric?" She said, as if pondering a hard choice. She suddenly nodded. "Yeah, a necklace would make me look like my mother. Earrings."
Alaric blinked, clearly wondering how his clueless expression had influenced the choice.
Mags suspected the man of having a soft spot for the extravagant blonde, because he was the only one who put up with her whims without complaining. Patrol Leader Ajax called her to order twice a day, Legend ignored her, and the masculine Indra often glared at Marquise as if she cast indelible shame on the peacekeeper profession.
Orithyia, six thousand citizen strong and the wealthiest town in Four, surpassing Lycorias by far. The calmest, cleanest, richest seas and pearl farms that didn't end.
Mags smiled in anticipation.
"What's bothering you, Mama?"
The dark-haired woman removed her hand from her forehead. "They warned me about the change in schedule yesterday. I was in such a rush that I left all the accounting to Kyle without making a double," she said, "I still have the bulk ledger but..."
"You don't trust him to do the job properly?" Mags said, a little put out. Kyle had yet to fail them. She missed his reassuring smile, the one that said you'll succeed, don't worry, his easy temperament and the feel of his arms around her waist.
"It's his aunt I don't trust. Your boyfriend becomes a kitten when she's around, as if he's terrified to upset her. I've tried to talk to her, but she's as slippery as an eel," her lips tightened in a thin line, "and she is obsessed about money."
Mags crossed her arms, upset. She was dating Kyle, not Narissa, but the idea of her boyfriend's family being a liability made her queasy. Kyle disliked confrontations and steered away from upsetting subjects, but that's also what made him so relaxing. He focused on the little mundane things and made her laugh. Mags felt like a normal girl when she dated him.
"About money," Angelites suddenly said, her pinched expression replaced by delight, "Esperanza had her first boyfriend."
"No," Mags exclaimed. "Who?" She frowned. "Had? It's over? Already?" It had been barely a week!
"Some boy at school. Kai? Cay?" Angelites grinned. "She told him that she'd go out with him, she kissed him, then she said that she'd not give him any money and they'd not come to her house for at least two months because she didn't want gold-diggers."
Mags chuckled. "And?"
"And he declared she was weird and stomped off. Esperanza is certain he'll come back in a few days. She seems pretty willing, with that condescending fondness girls her age reserve for their suitors," Angelites laughed. "It won't last a month, but I don't want to miss it. You were too serious to be fun at that age, but Esperanza will break hearts."
"Hey," Mags protested. "I wasn't too serious, it's the boys who weren't interesting enough."
Her mother laughed again. She tucked one of Mags' stray locks behind her ear, her smile slowly fading. "How was it?" She whispered.
"Bearable. I learned some history from Lucian." Mags' voice dropped. "I have records in my bra, can you keep them for me? It's on my Games and I haven't watched them yet. Valerian, the peacekeeper officer who escorted us out of the sewers, gave them to me in Persa."
Angelites pulled back from her daughter, alarm tensing her whole body. "What was that man doing there, on a simple escort mission?"
"I asked for him," Mags said, putting a reassuring hand on her mother's arm.
"You -" Angelites abruptly stood up, her eyes wide in horror, "Tonta! Nunca Piensas! What a stupid risk to take! What were you thinking, Mags?"
"Mama -" Mags began, startled by the woman's vehemence. You don't think. It hurt even if a part of her acknowledged it was true.
"No, Mags," her mother exclaimed. "You can't afford to do things like that. It doesn't matter if nine out of ten of the decisions you make on instinct are good ones. It just takes one mistake for everything to crumble." Angelites' voice softened, she cupped her daughter's face in her hands. "If it was so easy, Panem would already be a world of fairness and joy. Good intentions abound." She sighed, guilt flitting over her features, "I'm sorry I let you do this."
"Don't say that, Mama," Mags cut in. Volunteering was not a decision to regret. Regretting was giving up.
"I'm sorry that you suffer, Preciosa." Angelites' full lips bloomed into a sad loving smile. "I believe in you. Like your friend said, I know that I gave birth to a hero. I just wish you could be both that and happy." A rueful chuckle escaped her lips. "Now fish that thing out of your bra," she said, upturning the palm of her hand.
Mags awkwardly fumbled with her clothes under her mother's increasingly amused stare.
The days had began to blur. They'd left the peaceful Orithyia with its symmetrical white-washed block houses, narrow streets and well-kept farms for a succession of similar fishing districts where Mags repeated the speeches she had learned by heart. She tried hard to see how the population responded and what she could realistically do to adapt to their needs. The days left her drained but hopeful, for despite some hostility, most people had listened and word was spreading.
On the sixth morning, Mags had reached Galene, the third, and last, of the major towns in district Four. Galene had been messier, louder and with a visible split between a small elite and the mass of poor. Very poor. Even the villagers had looked better off. More peacekeepers patrolled the streets, and people clutched the wares they carried close to them, as if they didn't feel safe. Marquise removed her new earrings discretely, a frown marring her brow.
The air itself sizzled with something that made Mags itch for a scarf to protect her exposed face. She blinked grit out of her eyes.
The mayor had been very polite. Too polite. He'd told her nothing of value. Mags had asked Marquise and Alaric to talk to the local peacekeepers, hoping they'd speak more freely than the mayor. She had been right but there was little to rejoice in.
Food production or processing was minimal in Galene, which made it an exception in Four. Instead, small dams shaped the coastline, bringing the sea water into huge complexes and offering a haven to the algae to be later shipped to the Capitol's medical laboratories. Magnesium chloride solutions, enriched saline, rare clays, everything the health and beauty sectors of the Capitol industry, the only sectors of Capitol industry, barring entertainment, could need. The less fortunate worked in the huge glass factory that gorged on sand and left devastated beaches in its wake.
Mags could see the furnaces from the crowded beach. They were a gray blur, surrounded by shimmering heat waves.
This is where Four's peacekeepers will come from, she remembered thinking, as a woman with horrendous burns had quickly stepped out of their way.
In Galene there was no housing problem despite the abundantly obvious large families. The death toll had taken care of it. Mags had thought it a sick joke, unable to believe her ears when Alaric had related the numbers. Nine hundred and twenty dead from work accidents in ten years. Almost two a week. The frequency of accidents had dropped by half in the last couple of years, but it seemed to Mags that it was only because the clumsy or weak had all been culled out.
This couldn't go on.
A plan began forming in her mind. Peacekeepers in Four would be inevitable if the Capitol truly wished it, but their rulers would implement district-wide policies, and create an unrest that neither they nor Four could afford. If they targeted only Galene at first, and offered work protections and advantages for the families who enrolled a child...
Mags still had to let the idea mature, because it sounded a little too much like selling children to her, but if nothing was done, all five thousand citizen would remain just as poor, sustaining horrific injuries and risking their lives every day. Mags knew the Capitol would find people from the villages and force them to work where man-strength was needed if Galene could not make up for the losses quickly enough.
She turned to her mother, who seemed find this just as disturbing as she did.
"There is a problem in this town. I've been here very little but I can already taste it. Galene is... Something needs to be done," she told the audience, stepping down from the hastily erected platform. "I've decided to stay an extra day. I need more information. I'll be talking to those among you who will consent to see me tomorrow. I'll be here an hour before dawn, for those who must work, and until midday." She lowered her voice, her green eyes still blazing with purpose as she turned to her two bodyguards. "Please take care of it, I'll explain to President Achlys, but anyone else who has a problem can keep it to themselves," she said stiffly.
Marquise nodded, hiding her surprise much less well than Alaric.
The crowd of exhausted workers parted for them, some hopeful, others wary, most wary of the hope blossoming in their chests.
Those were the ones that made Mags realize she had no choice but to succeed.
Urgent knocking shook Mags out of her troubled dreams.
Marquise's cranky voice soon reached through the door. "The meeting's one hour before dawn, girl. Isn't it already ridiculously accommodating? Don't you people have manners?"
Mags lit her bedside lamp. She met her mother's gaze, her eyebrows raised in question. The woman nodded, not bothering to lift her head off the pillow.
The victor went to open the door, a knife loosely held in her hand just in case. Who would want to see her this early?
"I assume you checked her for weapons," she told Marquise, to put an end to her arguing with the slight struggling figure she held firmly by the arm.
The peacekeeper, who'd been sleeping in the small room nearby -they were hosted in the barracks, which itself told Mags that the townsfolk's houses had to lack either running water or electricity-, was in her undertunic with her usual tidy ponytail in a hasty bun.
"If you had a slumber party organised, you could have invited me," Marquise said, all but shoving the girl inside. She scowled at the Galenese, "this better be a matter of life and death," she added before slamming the door shut.
"You're lucky that wasn't Alaric. At this hour, sneaking into the barracks? Do you have a death wish?"
"Why'd he hurt me?" The dark-haired girl said, her eyes widening as they took in Mags' knife.
The way the question was delivered made Mags suspect rebellion had long since died in Galene. She let herself fall seated on the bed and gestured for the girl to follow suit.
The girl gingerly obeyed, fidgeting as she glanced at Angelites.
"Mama sleeps soundly through the worst storms," Mags lied. Her mother would intervene or choose to keep pretending she was asleep as she saw fit. "Why did you come here?"
"My name's Adria, I want to volunteer," she said, swallowing her words in a peculiar way as she spoke.
Mags heart plummeted. She suddenly knew she should have heeded Marquise and not let the girl in. She was too tired for this nonsense. "Why?" she said, stifling a yawn. Her eyes fell on the blister-like scars on the girl's back. Chicken pox probably. Adria's shoulder blades showed, not enough to alarm Mags, but the tight muscles that covered her exposed body betrayed that she had been working for years.
"My brother, Ruben, he's in the Capitol. I want him back. I tried to move on," the young teenager said, the tremble in her voice getting worse, "the others did, but I can't. I need him back. I have to volunteer and get him back."
During the Games, Mags' fear and stress had compensated her wariness. Here there was only the mounting irritation caused by having to think while your whole body begged for rest. Adria's depressing reasons only kindled her short temper. The skinny girl looked so much a child and yet she was speaking of suicide with an earnestness that was beyond comprehension.
How could someone be so naïve?
"I don't know if avoxes watch, but it's possible, and he would see you die," Mags said, not prepared to sugar coat the Games.
Adria crossed her arms. "Help me or no, I'll still volunteer, Mags," she said, tilting her chin up. "You're not gonna stop me, cause I'm no better or worse than whoever'd be reaped that day. You'd kill her, innocent reaped her, by stopping me," Adria said, causing Mags to wince. "I saw the list of the thousand dead. I checked again and again. Ruben's alive, I know it," she said, her accent growing more pronounced as her voice rose. "He's my brother! He was strong, he survived, he looked out for me. I gotta look out for him now. I can do that, but I gotta win."
Mags found tears rise in her eyes. She suddenly hated not having Esperanza close by, not knowing, and didn't even want to imagine how Adria felt. There was no law that made fair equal real and Mags couldn't let Adria's grief steal her ability to reason. Her brother was an avox in the Capitol. Adria had to open her eyes.
Mags took a deep breath, willing her non-existent patience a little closer to her normal daylight levels. She didn't know this girl, it wouldn't do any good to tear her apart.
"Do your parents mistreat you?" She asked.
"Course not," Adria said, her expression glum in the gloom. She laughed, a harsh little laugh that had no place on a girl her age. Or of any age. "You didn't like what you saw here, that's why you're not gone yet. 'magine what it's like, if you don't even have someone to share it with. I don't know my parents. They gotta work. Home is just a bed to sleep and a table to eat, quick and silent. We raise ourselves here, on the street. Ruben's my family. I gotta do right by him."
"How old is he?" Mags said, stalling as her sleep-deprived brain scrambled for a solution.
Adria looked like such a child.
"Fifteen," she said, "one year older than me. He was avoxed 'cause of Druze," she said, her whole face twisting with hate, "Marisol got taken in for theft, but everyone knows it's 'cause she wouldn't get on her knees for Druze. He's not even an officer, but he's nasty and we gotta tiptoe around him. We're getting him to make mistakes, in public, show he's lazy, make the Capitol look bad. The other cops aren't fond of him. He'll be out of here soon."
Mags stared, impressed. "You're much cleverer than the kids in Creneis," she said. She wished Kyle was here to hear this. She wished Kyle was here, period.
Adria' lips twitched. "We gotta be. If you're stupid, you go down fast. Ruben... Marisol didn't want to get caught, and we knew she was innocent, so there was shouting and running all over. Ruben somehow ended up in the middle. Druze threw a fit, saying he got punched, they took three guys in because he knows some important people somewhere. I never knew if it was true. Ruben's not a hitter, never was."
"But you are?" Mags said, wishing nothing more than to curl up, sleep and forget this conversation.
"What?" Adria said, pronouncing it wot, quick and crisp.
"You'd kill, Adria? You'd murder innocent kids to get him back? You'd be able to look at them in the eyes and do it? You'd be able to seek them out before your food runs out, and do it even if they're begging you not to? Would Ruben want you back then? Have you thought of that?"
Adria's bloodless cheeks and horror-filled eyes were answer enough.
"Do you want him to see you die but only after you'd become a killer?" Mags said, feeling awful for twisting the knife, but knowing there was no mild way to put this.
"How can you say that! You're a bloody volunteer yourself," Adria exclaimed, outrage deforming her angular face, "I need to find my brother! I'm not asking, I'm telling you."
Mags ground her teeth together, itching to cuff the girl to get the rust out of her brain. "Tell your parents they'll be the ones shipping a thick tear-soaked diary since they'll be no body to weep over," she snapped.
Tears sprung from the fourteen-year-old's eyes but Mags found she did not care enough to soften her expression, not when the girl wanted to throw her life away.
"You think I'm selfish," Adria accused.
"Yes," Mags said, "I can't have avoxes even if I beg the President. Ruben would still live in the Capitol."
"Then I'd go live there too," Adria shot back, her voice so strident that Marquise peeked through the door.
"He'd still be mute even if you could buy him back. You'd be a nobody even if you were allowed," Mags said through clenched teeth. She balled her fists, unable to comprehend why her message didn't get through, "but Adria, you won't win."
The girl screamed in frustration. "What makes you so special? Why can't I win the Games? I can do it, I have to! No one wants it as badly. I don't care if he's mute! He's my brother," she spat, "you don't get it."
Mags rubbed her tired eyes. She was afraid that if she shut them too long she'd fall asleep. She wanted to shake the girl so badly, but knew she'd regret it tomorrow. This wasn't a broken television one could fix with a couple of slaps.
"Then train and watch the next Games very carefully," Angelites said, now seated on the bed. "Don't volunteer next year, wait at least to be sixteen. Mags will let you come to the new academy and mentor you, but only if you learn as much as you can on your side first. You can grow fit and knowledgeable with knives and knots on your own. Come two months after the end of the next Games."
"I…" Adria said, suddenly meek as she hesitated.
"You heard Mama. I don't break my word. If this matters so much to you, you'll do your best to succeed, one year or two are nothing when failure is death, and breaking your brother more surely than his avoxing did," she couldn't resist adding, wishing the girl would wake up. "I'll remember you, Adria," she promised, clasping the girl's hand tightly for a brief moment, "I'll send you a permission letter so they don't stop you from coming to Creneis."
Relief washed over the girl's angular features. "Thank you," she muttered awkwardly.
"You got what you wanted," Marquise said, leaning against the door. "Now get out. Slumber party's over. And next time, seriously, wait for daylight. They could have slept naked for all you knew."
Adria stared oddly at Marquise. She shook her head before breaking into a run, sparing Mags a last glance. The victor raised her hand in salute, stifling a snort at Marquise's comments.
The peacekeeper's priorities never failed to amuse her. The only reason people didn't swim naked was that the Capitol had set very low prices for swimsuits because the idea of a nudist district offended their sensibilities.
"Go to bed Marquise, anyone else can stay outside," Mags said.
"Terrific," Marquise said with a relieved grin, breaking into a yawn big enough swallow a whale. "Shout out if there's trouble, I'm not far," she said, clicking the door shut.
Mags turned to her mother, stifling a yawn of her own. "You think time will make her grow up quickly enough?"
"If the child is serious, she'll jump off a cliff if you hold her back," Angelites said, disillusioned, "Don't hold her back because she's now familiar and the reaped child will be a stranger. Majority is also the freedom to make bad decisions. She could win too."
Mags shoulders drooped. There was something quite chilling about her mother's resigned words.
"I could have been talking to a brick wall for all she heard," Mags whispered, unable to shake off the guilt now clutching at her insides. Should she have said something else? Had she missed something crucial?
Angelites stood up, her white nightdress falling down to her feet. She sat next to her daughter and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "With hope, she won't volunteer."
Alaric shook her awake much too early. Aggressive artificial light attacked her sticky eyelids.
"Sorry, Mags, but Marquise isn't ready yet," he said stiffly, taking a swift step back from the bed. "Could you wake your mother?"
"I'm up. Why so tense? Are women in Two incapable of making the difference between a touch and molesting?"
"Some," Alaric said with a tight smile. "I'm not taking the risk, Ma'am."
Angelites pushed her covers away and stood up, her tangled hair tumbling over her cleavage. Her long nightdress was opaque but did little to conceal her figure. "So you go for the younger woman?" She said with a condemning expression.
Alaric flushed jumping even further away from Mags. His eyes had widened is alarm as he sought a dignified escape.
The raven-haired woman cracked a smile after a few seconds. "Early morning sense of humor, don't mind me. We'll be out in a quarter hour, Alaric, thank you."
Mags grinned as soon as the man was out. "Having fun?"
"Young men are so easy," Angelites replied with a knowing smirk, collecting her raven hair to better brush them. "Besides, it woke you up, Preciosa."
Mags blinked. The one-sided banter had indeed chased her sleepiness away.
"Yes, it did," she said with a grin, rolling out of the bed. She winced when her bare feet hit the freezing floor. "Time to go."
The beach was lit by burning torches on long stakes. Over twenty people were already waiting in the cold. Many had their children with them, children who looked thrilled to be there and held their parents tightly, even those in their early teens.
I don't know my parents. They gotta work. Mags forced herself to swallow, her green eyes bright.
"There's something so wrong with this district," Marquise muttered, "You're up before dawn half the time and the town's dead after eight PM. You don't know how to live." She huffed, tearing a smile from the victor.
The blonde turned to the ten local peacekeepers standing a few steps back and ordered them to secure the zone. Mags made sure they were out of earshot.
A man with graying sandy-hair stepped forward. "We took a minute yesterday when you left and we decided I should speak for us. The others will add something if my memory fails me. I'm Cobia."
"Sit down, the sand is dry and we've all got a long day ahead of us," Mags said, unceremoniously dropping to the ground. Everyone was swift to follow suit. "I've had an idea. I need this kept quiet for now, but it might be the beginning of a solution," she began.
"Anything is better than what we have now," a skinny woman said with a strained smile that didn't reach her eyes, "How old are you, Ma'am?" she asked, pointing at Angelites.
"Forty-two," her mother replied, sitting down on the beach like the rest of them. A young man whistled, earning himself a cuff.
"You're gorgeous, Lady, and you have a decade on me," the other said with a pained chuckle. "And I got neither beaten or in an accident. My hair's gray and my skin's wrinkled from exposure and being too skinny," she said, taking her threadbare coat off and holding her bony arms out before her, "Girls start making kids at sixteen 'cause you need energy for babies and you don't have that later. Anything's better," she repeated.
Mags grasped her mother's hand for comfort, weariness and pain tightening her throat. The Galenese looked so drawn and she was the same age as Myia...
The two faces of Panem, two sides of the same coin, sparkling gold and rust covered iron.
"Anemone," Cobia said gently, "let's hear the victor out."
Mags frowned as the attention turned to her. She had forgotten to ask the peacekeepers a crucial question.
"What's the crime rate here?" She said, "I'm asking because of the speech President Achlys gave in Creneis, in September."
Cobia nodded. "We saw it. I don't think we're the ones making the numbers rise. We're okay with the peacekeepers, save a few. They're not the problem. The jobs are. They're killing us. Things are getting fixed, some securities put in, but it's much too slow. And we're not the ones who need meteorology."
No, Orithyia was desperate for the radars, but here it evidently was not so crucial.
Mags pointed at a well-dressed young man. "You're wealthier, are you a factory owner -?
Laughter rippled through the small crowd. "The Capitol owns the factory," Cobia explained, "That's one of the problems. They have no idea, there's no manager. The peacekeepers are actually the ones speeding things up. It's falling apart and the channels are blocked."
"There could be corruption from the Capitol's side," Angelites said, a calculating light in her eyes. Some people blanched in fear, but Mags smiled.
"Some problems the Capitol can't, or won't fix, but if corruption ruins a district like this, the President will act," she said confidently. "Achlys despises corruption." Pleased surprised looks greeted her declaration.
Mags turned back to the fit man in the richer clothes.
"I'm a glass blower," he said, "I think it's the one luxury trade of the District. We're a score or so." He gave her a shy smile, "We're the rich, I guess. We keep the pharmacy too, try to have the cheapest prices."
People nodded at that, whispering to each other, and Mags saw no animosity there.
"I'm impressed at how close knit you are," she said, surer of her plan with every passing minute.
"Things are so bad that we don't need a peacekeeper to hang whoever tries to screw with others," Anemone said with a grim smile. "That we make sure to teach our kids properly, no matter the time it takes."
Mags nodded. "Alright, here is the solution," she said, "imagine Four becomes a peacekeeper district. There's a debate going on about that in the Capitol right now. They'd have to recruit from the population. It would cause problems in Creneis, Lycorias and even Orithyia and even more problems in the fishing villages, but things are different in Galene. If the construction of a center came with the assurance the factories were made safer and the machines newer, better work conditions and the assurance the peacekeepers would be able to spend a reasonable amount of time home, that a percentage of those serving here would be locals..."
"That's brilliant," Cobia exclaimed, his wrinkled hazel eyes lighting up. "If we have our own peacekeepers, they'll be also morally accountable to us. We won't be so stupid as to ask for preferential treatment, because that'd make the Capitol assign our children out of the district, but already, if the laws are followed properly, we're protected enough."
Things would have been so different in Creneis that Mags struggled not to gape. Had poverty eradicated the deep grudges from the war or had peacekeepers truly behaved in a way that had brought them closer to the population?
"Your children, enough of them at least, would have to become peacekeepers," Mags said carefully.
"Our children, too many of them, are dying," Anemone shot back.
"Peacekeepers, the legal description of the job, is nothing to frown upon," Cobia said with a shrug. "It's what some bullies make of it that is wrong. We've got nothing to hide from the Capitol."
Mags nodded, still a little stunned. "Send me a note when you'll have come to an agreement with the rest of the town, even a simple yes or no, through your mayor or peacekeepers, to Creneis. I'll start the discussions. I'll come back here when we'll have to write down the agreements to see what your specific needs are and make sure both parties are satisfied."
"Why are you doing this?" the glass-blower asked, honest curiosity on his smiling face.
"Because her mother raised her properly," Angelites replied with a smile.
Mags chuckled with the others, but her chest was constricted. She was changing Four in a way she could never have predicted. It all felt so much bigger than her.
Author's note.
Mags will be back in Creneis next chapter after a short stop in Lycorias. District Four is always about fishing and sailing. I tried to diversify because the sea isn't just fishing, not nearly. I hope this chapter showed how Four will become a peacekeeper District with Galene as the recruiting center as well as what would bring 'regular' people to volunteer now that they believe they have a chance since Mags won.
Please review.^^