Year 46, June 7th, the Capitol.
The pen snapped between her polished nails.
Evadne Achlys slowly rose to her feet, wishing the report would disintegrate before her.
A foreign, deep buried emotion stirred in her mind. A suspicion, a shadow, flickering just at the edge of her vision. The President's jaw clenched.
Something had escaped her control.
A railway had collapsed, and that in itself was hardly a unique occurrence. Panem was but a shadow of the former United States of America, it's researchers mere children playing with relics of an old superpower, its infrastructure a joke. Railroads collapsed and they were fixed as best as the salvaged technology allowed, such was life, but when the collapses where double the statistical average, on critical nodes, in every district and not one single peacekeeper reported sabotage…
The white-haired woman turned her gaze towards the city, erected from the ruins of old Denver by refugees who had staunchly refused to accept the end of civilization. The Capitol, a new beginning for mankind, the embodiment of a collective desire to rebuild the empire they had lost and one day even surpass their ancestors.
Where had that strength and ambition gone? She wondered. How could they have become so decadent before having even reached greatness?
"Find me General Duncain," the President ordered.
Sertorius Duncain saluted, his posture stiff.
The President rose to greet him, a courtesy she granted to only her most trusted. "Tell me the bad news, Sertorius," she said.
The General met her eyes squarely, concern darkening his lined face. "Either we dismiss all incidents as coincidences or we consider our army is compromised. If this is the case, Ma'am, I fear the threat lies in District Four."
Achlys froze, doubt flickering over her features. Had Mags' control over her District slipped? Had the years affected her judgment? "Explain," she demanded.
"Every patrol on the damaged railways had a peacekeeper from Four, Ma'am," Sertorius said, "while that itself is not a statistical anomaly, every single one of those peacekeepers have been sending regular letters to Captain Archon in Galene."
Achlys gave a small nod. She could sense the disapproval the man was too deferent to voice out loud. None of them, not the army, nor those who hoped to rule under her or in her stead, understood that removing all freedom from the Districts would only choke Panem. But if Duncain's suspicions proved correct, if the years had blunted Mags' alertness, then the President would have to ask her to retire and make sure Four remained in competent hands.
"Have the peacekeepers received orders from District Four?" She asked, her calm voice concealing how she craved tangible information. "Who reads the letters they send? How many soldiers report?"
"We found nothing suspicious in print, Ma'am," the man admitted. "Only Captain Archon, Victor Mags and her husband read the missives, officially," he said, "but it is too early to dismiss the possibility of interception. Almost a recruit in ten sends yearly reports, and one in a score used to send monthly ones."
"Used to?" Achlys said softly.
"The frequency of letters sent to Galene has increased greatly over the last four months. They contain nothing inappropriate or sensitive, but taken together they give every reader highly valuable information on how are forces are organized and how they operate. "
"The frequency could have increased because more is happening," Achlys mused. She turned away from the officer, disquieting theories invading her mind. Discontent among peacekeepers, such targeted and well executed sabotage… If not coincidence, then how had such large scale planning escaped her? And if it originated from District Four…
Sertorius' jaw tightened. "There is more, Ma'am. Because of the increasing number of incidents requiring our attention, our men have not had the time to perform the usual controls. If databases have been tampered with or wares misplaced, we may not know until we stabilize the situation."
An acute sense of danger filled Achlys' mind. "Are you saying all these disruptions could be an intentional distraction?" She straightened, apprehension seeping into her limbs. "Could the infestations in One and the failure of the cooling systems in Ten related? Captain Vega is from District Four."
Not even a rebellious group peacekeepers, no matter how crafty, would be so bold unless they had inside support. Railways could be repaired, it only made sense as part of an greater scheme. Achlys exhaled slowly. Rebels rarely made sense, and they always were beaten, surely it was just few isolated groups who had taken simultaneous action by chance.
Sertorius' hesitation did not reassure her. Rarely had he been outmaneuvered, and Achlys loathed to simply wait for those responsible to betray themselves.
"Vega reports to Galene and I have confirmed that she is acquainted with Victor Mags," the grey-haired soldier informed her, "but we have found alarming reports which Vega had sent to Major Elroy on the state of the cooling systems. The Major refused to investigate her valid claims. He has been dealt with," Sertorius said, his mouth thinning in controlled anger. "He was but a proud imbecile who wanted to retire with a clean slate. He is part of no rebel plots." The General paused, his dark eyes betraying his swirling thoughts. "Ma'am, the warehouse we were investigating in District One burned down last week, the fire spread to the Justice Building. The reports of all peacekeeper action of the last five years were stored there for the week while the Headquarter's basements were dehumidified. I have confirmed the basements were flooded, and it does seem to have been an accident, but -."
Achlys shut her eyes briefly. All traceability of One's peacekeepers had been lost, wonderful. She hated when coincidences piled up. "Colonel Fletcher gave that order?"
"Yes, but it standard procedure," the officer said, frustration seeping into his tone at his inability to provide her with a culprit. "As you are aware, Victor Mags has frequent contacts with District One. I think Ma'am, that you should interrogate her." Sertorius' concern left place to shock. "Ma'am," he said sharply, staring through her at the city below.
Achlys snapped around. At first she saw nothing, then her golden eyes focused on the moving black spots on the normally immaculate Lazarus Hospital, the most exclusive healthcare facility in the city, and their very best laboratory.
"Movement on Lazarus Hospital's Western wall, report," Sertorius ordered, bringing his transceiver to his mouth.
"Mutts, General. Our calls are not getting through, there seems to be a power cut. Sir, the hospital doors are locked."
"Which mutts?" Achlys demanded. Ever since the 33rd Games, mutts had become the new pets, but those sold were mostly harmless, and more importantly, they did not climb walls.
"Spiders, Ma'am, almost man-sized, a hundred of them. The Homeguard are in the hospital, the mutts are being tranquilized and we are making our way into the laboratory."
She blinked. For the last five years she had entrusted the Hunger Games to Magnus, her designed successor. He was still unpolished, but despite his flaws he would make an exceptional ruler, and surely he had not allowed the breeding of an army of giant spiders.
She grimaced and grabbed her own phone.
"Magnus, the things crawling on Lazarus hospital, are they yours?" She asked, her voice dripping venom. She gritted her teeth impatiently when the line remained silent. "Magnus, I have never executed anyone of your competence for a single mistake, do find your voice."
"Ma'am," the man began. Achlys tightened her grip on the phone in exasperation. Magnus hadn't called her Ma'am in a decade, what had he done? "The arena was designed to be centered on common phobias," he explained quickly. "Those spiders are harmless at this stage, just very big, and rather… numerous. They were to cover the whole arena and… What are they doing on the hospital walls?" He asked meekly.
Achlys shut her eyes, irritated by his subservient attitude. And phobias? The younger generation was ridiculously enamored with the horror genre.
"Meet me in half an hour at the hospital," she snapped, putting an end to their communication.
"Another coincidence?" She said dangerously, her eyes meeting Sertorius'.
She would have none of that in her city. It was time to remind Panem who exactly was in charge.
Year 46, June 17th
Seventeen dead, three quarters of her brightest people, in their homes with no explanation and no answers on the cameras.
The President would never admit it, but she was growing desperate.
"An idea, Mr. Snow?" Achlys asked.
Coriolanus was a man she sometimes admired, often found insufferable and never would trust. His political instinct was remarkable but he could not hide how he thrived on fear and pain, how he loved to control the lives of every person under his power. He would destroy the Districts with his paranoia and power-lust.
It was his paranoia she needed now. Maybe he could make sense of the reports.
"It's is the Dreamweaver, Madam President," Snow said, his voice leaving no room for doubt. "They all take it. It's the only common factor. I have always stayed clean."
Achlys' eyes narrowed, that possibility never having entered her mind. Magnus was also an adept of the drug-of-pleasant-dreams and he was very much alive.
Dreamweaver. As soon as the molecule had left the laboratories, the Capitol had launched itself on it like a starving animal. Vivid dreams that filled them with a sense of wonder, flattered their pathetic egos and added color to empty lives. Achlys' lips curled at the very thought of letting substances mold her psyche. Only the weak needed such crutches. There was everything in the Capitol, how could so many of her citizen be so blind and passive and infantile?
"They receive the drugs by post," Snow pursued, "like all those who buy it, tracing it will be time consuming."
The President stood up, her hands clutched before her in rising fury.
"A week ago, the spider-mutts killed no one but they turned the laboratory upside-down," she said tightly. "Any theft in the chaos would have gone unnoticed; especially with the cameras offline."
But if there had been a theft, which substance or which records had been stolen, and why? A ghost of a smile flitted over her lips as she took notice of her hammering heart. Someone was challenging her, someone organized, someone brilliant. Evadne Achlys had not felt such a thrill in years.
"A district woman is in charge of hospital transparency," Snow pointed out with a sneer, as if it was a foolproof argument in itself.
Achlys gave the man a thin smile. He was an even worse bigot than the others. "Then I will have a word with Mrs. Valens. Thank you for your counsel, continue to investigate, you are dismissed."
Her gaze darkened after Snow had gone. Glynn and Mags were close and if Sertorius had proved correct and Four was where the mind behind the sabotage…
Doubt, creeping, miserable and infuriating doubt, replaced her fury as the white-haired President walked up to the window, her eyes falling to the flowered graveyard just behind the city walls. As clear as the streets below, Achlys could see Mags' tears, the tense arm around her pregnant stomach as she stared at Tang's body. That extraordinary girl had run barefoot and unarmed into certain danger, giving her twenty-six more years with her husband, and she had never voiced her thanks.
Doubt turned to betrayal, dark and biting, as Evadne Achlys could not refuse what her instincts told her.
Only someone extraordinary, someone with influence in every District could ever threaten her rule.
She just had to send the order, summon her to the Capitol, and her children for good measure, and bring the truth to light.
Achlys' fingers stopped above the phone as uncertainty gripped her. If she were wrong… She could see those careful green eyes, the passion as she spoke making Four safe and prosperous, her pride when the victors stood united. A strength Achlys had recognized and encouraged. Now bitterness burned the conflicted President's throat as she remembered the gunshot which had ended Jute Wicker's days and that glorious feeling of triumph.
She needed tangible proof.
Year 46, June 23rd.
"Where is General Duncain?"
The ashen-faced officer couldn't meet her gaze. "We found him murdered in his rooms. His avox was dead. The autopsy results will come in soon. We could not find camera records, they were erased."
"Autopsy the avox," the President ordered. They couldn't afford to miss any clue.
She left before they could see the tear of rage in her eyes. Sertorius, one of the better men the Capitol had ever produced, dead while mediocre people enjoyed their miserable lives until their hearts gave out.
She would not have it, another war that destroyed brilliant minds and crushed the valorous souls who dared step up on the front line, while the cowards survived and rebuilt their lives over their blood and ashes, rewarded for their weakness.
She would find the culprit and destroy them.
Year 46, June 25th
It had been the same poison. Everything pointed to the avox committing the murder and then taking his own life.
There was no motive, and such poison should never have found its way in the wretched creature's hands.
Avoxes, invisible and everywhere, harmless when they were isolated and hopeless, but if they had a purpose, if the files were tampered with…
The elderly President sat down, staring at the door to her spacious office. She swallowed, and for the first time in almost thirty years, she tasted fear.
Within three hours, the President had the Homeguard round up every avox working in a sensitive position. She would have her answers.
The Capitol was under martial law.
Year 46, June 26th
Achlys smiled grimly at her reflection. It had taken her a decade to come to terms with her age and let it show. How it terrified them all, wrinkles, the promise of their mortality. She should have predicted it, after all, had she not lived her life unaltered to imprint her individuality on all those fragile fools?
Unfortunately, the woman she was to receive was one of the few whom wrinkles did not impress.
"Do you know why I sent for you, Glynn?" She said, her voice echoing with the fury of weeks of accumulated frustrations.
"Yes, Evadne and I did contact Magnus Cheshire about overtaxing the power generator a month ago," Glynn replied, her expression tight. "I am not privy to what was being achieved in the breeding rooms, Ma'am, but I did insist that the vats should be left to cool between two breedings. I have records," Glynn added, putting a data-key on the table.
Achlys blinked. She had almost forgotten the incident at Lazarus now but was surprised the woman had such evidence to provide.
Indeed Magnus had all but told Glynn to mind her own business.
"He might have listened had you formulated your fears less like requests," Achlys said, feeling a pang of annoyance.
"I apologize, Ma'am," Glynn said, her shoulders slumping. "Maybe it was indeed sabotage, but no one had access to those rooms and if they had, wouldn't the cameras have caught them?"
"Avoxes have access."
Glynn's eyes widened drastically. She then lifted her eyes skywards in frustration. "If Plutarch hadn't gone off to work with children I could have…" She frowned. "Is the priority now investigating avoxes? I have some familiarity with the assignment procedures and personality tests. I am sure I can shed light on inconsistencies in the reports given a few weeks."
Achlys nodded, a small smile on her lips. Glynn's proactive response was highly comforting. If the woman had displayed uncharacteristic guilt or fear… The ageing President was glad she hadn't been betrayed.
Glynn was eyeing her thoughtfully, apprehension creasing lines around her eyes.
"Forgive me for asking, but you do trust Magnus to wait for your death before taking power? He is only forty, he shouldn't feel in a hurry, but -"
Achlys' nostrils flared. Glynn had better have solid reason for saying such a thing. Achlys could not afford to waste any energy fearing imaginary conspiracies, especially not now. She hated the spike of fear those works had sparked.
"Evadne, only someone with inhuman drive, great vision and the ability to make difficult decisions can lead Panem, Magnus is all of this," Glynn said, worry plain on her face, "but you well know that such people feel often frustrated in second place."
The President exhaled, some of her sudden outrage evaporating. Glynn spoke her mind, she was always had, and it was quite extraordinary that a life among the city walls had not discouraged to discard that particular trait. Achlys' face softened, far too few, even in her inner circle, ever dared to risk her wrath.
Her jaw tightened when she thought of Sertorius, content with the power he had, solid and trustworthy. Maybe one of the last people around her she could say that of. Achlys wondered how in fifty years of rule she had failed to find even a handful of people she could rely on completely. Her chest constricted as her traitorous mind conjured Lucius' caring smile. This was no time to dwell in the past.
"Do you have doubts?" She said, her voice pathetically hoarse.
Was this to be the end of her reign, seeing betrayal at every turn? Achlys clenched her teeth. She would not think like that.
Glynn met her gaze for a few seconds before looking away. "I am no politician, Evadne, I shall never be one. I understand that testing allies and opponents alike is part of the game. I cannot know which words of his are to be taken at face value and which are not." An odd vulnerability crossed the comely woman's face. "You gave me everything, Evadne. A job that matched my ambitions, a husband that could share my dreams and understand my passions, and you never cut me off from my family, and for that I owe you, Evadne, but I have stayed far away from politics, because… because I was afraid."
Achlys blinked, both touched by the declaration and unpleasantly surprised. " Why would you be afraid of Magnus?"
"He has great power and support," Glynn said with a wan smile. "I have a video I hesitated to show you. I hope it is nothing, and if it is something, that it is not too late."
Achlys folded her hands before her, her shoulders stiff with apprehension as she waited for the video to play. Glynn had provided invaluable intelligence for over thirty years, her fears couldn't be dismissed.
Magnus appeared to be holding a meeting with five other members of her government. Achlys recognized two of those who had survived the Dreamweaver intoxication.
"I have tried to change her mind, she listens to no one's counsel."
"She is resting on her achievements. She is too old to embrace change. We should not let her hold us back anymore. No single person should have such authority."
Achlys could feel heat rising in her cheeks as Magnus and his followers verbally undermined her. That two-faced snake.
"The Districts need a firm hand, if we need to give power to some of those barbarians, then we must review the management in the city," Lullaby Flares decided.
"She gives orders, we have been doing all the work and claiming much too little credit."
Magnus let them speak, worse, he encouraged them. Disappointments, foul, narrow-minded little people she had dared to hope would distinguish themselves from the worthless masses.
"He could be saying that just to show he's an alpha and to test the grounds," Glynn said with forced cheer. "To see how people respond. I shouldn't even have the video, I was just curious to see the decisions that were being made by the new generation, for Panem," Glynn added with an apologetic grimace. "That's another reason why I didn't tell you, I was completely out of line."
Achlys found she cared little for out of line today. "Why such interest in Magnus, why now?" She demanded, a sense of urgency threatening to break her calm façade.
Everything was unraveling, she had been given no warning. The white-haired woman struggled to control her breathing.
"Nothing extraordinary," Glynn said, not meeting her eyes. She shrugged. "Syrianus mentioned one evening that Mr. Cheshire had shown interest in the Dreamweaver drug. Syrianus has been trying to get it off the market, he fears we haven't tested enough how it can interact with various, harmless, substances, but it's such a money spinner that until he has undeniable proof his pleas will fall on deaf ears. He gave Magnus a full report two months ago on what we knew of the drug."
And Achlys had never heard of it. Her throat constricted as pieces of the puzzle fell in place.
Magnus had a neurobiology diploma. Achlys face grew stony. Magnus and Mags two people she trusted with Panem's prosperity and now the two people she was the most wary about. She had vowed never to succumb to it, to the paranoia that marked the downfall of so many rulers history had remembered as dictators, but the evidence…
He had not been affected by the faulty Dreamweaver neither had his three closest supporters. Of her government of twenty-four, the other survivors were all clean. Achlys didn't believe in coincidences anymore.
"Is there no trustworthy heir to be had?" She mused, realizing too late she had voiced her thoughts allowed.
"Someone modest who is convinced they'd do a lesser job than you might wait. But they might lack the ambition you're looking for," Glynn said. She then furrowed her brow thoughtfully, as if pondering the question.
Achlys glowered. The question had been rhetorical.
"Has something happened, Evadne?" Glynn asked, concern seeping into her features. She then chuckled. "I mean, except for spiders running around. At least no one got hurt."
Achlys wished she had the ability to find humor in the situation. A part of her was still glad that Glynn, despite her intelligence, did not even suspect Panem could be under threat. She was happy not to be given reason to suspect the auburn-haired woman.
"There have been deaths we have been keeping quiet. Linked to the Dreamweaver."
Glynn stood up so quickly she winced as the chair clattered to the floor behind her. She picked the chair up with an embarrassed smile. "Well," she said with an apologetic smile. "Syrianus will be both selfishly happy and tearing his hair out at the news."
Achlys almost smiled. Many women of fifty years of age looked quite girlish, only their attitude betraying their age, but Glynn had never lost her spontaneity.
"Do you want to come for whisky, Evadne?" Glynn said after a pause. "I think you could use a break."
A small smile cracked the President's lips. She had always been surprised by Glynn's familiarity, her easy kindness.
"I might end up killing the wrong person if I don't give myself time to think," she allowed.
"Two whiskeys then," Glynn said, her brows furrowing in worry.
Achlys chuckled.
Year 46, June 29th
The footage from Magnus that Glynn had shown her was absent from the security records. Too long had Achlys held onto the hope Glynn had unwittingly given her a forgery, but she could not ignore the truth anymore. The records were riddled with holes and all the missing files contained material that could damage her former successor's reputation. The traitor probably didn't suspect she had a double of many of the deleted records in her personal files. She had blackmail on every member of her government.
The white-haired woman laughed, a cold, jaded laugh, because forty-seven years before she had herself killed her way to power, but she had killed a man unfit to rule and never had she betrayed someone she had pledged loyalty to.
That night, sleep eluded her. In the privacy of her office, towering over her city, she thought of her sisters. Failures, spineless, narrow-minded creatures and their children were no better, shallow and entitled. A bittersweet smile crossed Achlys' lips when she thought of Myia. It defied comprehension that a woman so stupid could share her blood, yet of all her nieces and nephews, Myia was the only one who had fought to have what she wanted, who had never changed to fit the whims of society. Her daughter Nymeria was tyrannical and arrogant, but she was strong-willed and successful, and her marriage to Mr. Trinket was perhaps the one family union the President had approved of over the years. Hardworking men and women were so scarce. Maybe young Euphemia would show promise…
The woman's hand lashed out in anger, slamming the desk-lamp to the floor. The noise only exacerbated her fury.
Blood did not make family. Magnus was to be her legacy. Magnus was to be the son Evadne never had. Ungrateful, impatient Magnus who had decided he knew better.
The President had thought her heart locked away, and yet the betrayal tore deeper than she could have ever believed. Years of hope and counsel she had poured in that boy, and she had been so certain... Achlys rose to her feet, pacing in her empty office. Never had the prospect of removing a threat filled her with such disgust.
Maybe she had grown too old... Would Magnus be better for Panem than she was now? Could she step down and let him have his turn?
As she gazed unto her city, her flawed, marvelous city, and the foolish people she had fought to restore to their rightful place, she knew she could not trust him not to ruin everything she had carefully built.
He was not ready. He would rule for himself, not for Panem. Everything had been given to him, and maybe she had been foolish to believe he would one day understand what it was to serve.
Dawn, soft and gentle, entered her office, and Evadne Achlys remembered a time where dawn would only ever catch her in her bedroom.
But for two years, there had been no one to tell her to come home.
Year 46, July 10th
A scream of pure frustration blocked itself in her throat.
Magnus was dead, but nothing had unraveled. Her enquiries still met dead ends, except for her interrogation of the avoxes, which revealed they had had instructions, but had yet to lead her to anyone.
She uncovered corruption, she uncovered power-plays, but nothing rebellious, nothing that explained the coincidences in the Districts. Every arrest left her furious, certain she was wasting her time.
She found herself happy when Valerian Fletcher arrested a man for the assassination of Colonel Thistlecrown. The culprit was another peacekeeper from Four. A pity he'd been killed before they could interrogate him.
She knew who to interrogate now.
Lucian Gemini had been wise enough to cooperate but he hadn't told her anything to confirm her suspicions but enough not to remove them. Mags was a realist who was not afraid to act, she was the kind of person Achlys needed to keep Panem prosperous but, for the exact same reason, Mags could be dangerous.
Her feelings for Mags didn't matter anymore. Achlys couldn't afford to wait any longer.
In the night, she had an elite squad stealthily drug Marlin and bring him to the Capitol.
Year 46, July 11th
"She did it. She had Cheshire killed," the auburn-haired woman whispered, barely believing it herself.
The video had been just as fake as any propaganda movie the Capitol fed the Districts. They had taken sentences the man had said, strung them together to incriminate him, combined pieces of conversation, had the picture adapted and the dates changed to make it look liked the same day. They had then tampered the security files, removing records, and instilled doubt in the President's mind.
Glynn doubted she could ever make peace with how easy it was to destroy someone's life. Cheshire was everything she despised in the Capitolite ruling class, but whatever she could say, he had been loyal to the President.
"She needs to die quickly, before it all collapses," Glynn continued, fiddling with her bracelets. She had never grown out of that nervous habit. "Zephyr and his people are ready."
A moderate, decent man, realistic and charismatic enough to take control and slowly loosen the chains strangling the Districts to turn the country back to a democracy without causing it to implode. Zephyr knew little of their plans, he was simply aware of their opinions and had had the intelligence hide the extent of his revolutionary ideas from the other politicians. He would seize the occasion when the time was right.
Glynn was afraid the wait would consume her sanity.
Evadne Achlys was too protected in the Capitol. Mags had to draw her out in the Districts, and everything depended on her succeeding before the month was over.
"She's still investigating Dreamweaver," Syrianus pointed out, a satisfied half-smile on his lips.
Glynn chuckled. Ten years to develop that drug, one safe version and the other, more intense that stopped the heart mere hours after consumption. It had taken another five years to launch it, with Syrianus distancing himself from the project, letting his all too eager colleagues claim all the credit.
Just like Plutarch had publically severed all ties with avoxes two years before to remain in the shadows.
Safe, Glynn told herself, her hand clutching her husband's, they were still safe.
"She'll find nothing except greed, Syri. You reported potential dangers multiple times, but we all know the healthcare system would collapse if drugs had to be completely safe," Glynn said, her tone heavy with sarcasm.
She had been furious when Syrianus and Plutarch had gathered evidence that anti-appetizers favored depression and couldn't believe Evadne funded awareness campains and ordered her researchers to "fix" the problem rather than remove the drugs from the market and let Capitolites deal with having shapes and folds. No wonder the city was populated by self-centered nutters. She was glad Rhapsody had found the strength to wear her shapes proudly.
"Is she still convinced there was a theft during the mutt break-out?"
Glynn nodded.
That incident had been a complete red herring, with avox Cordin setting off the machines, and Glynn knew similar distractions were happening all over Panem, anything to keep the President's mind from discovering the real threats.
Glynn should have felt triumphant. Instead sadness drained her strength and she was desperate for this madness to end.
Intellectually, she admired Evadne Achlys probably more than she had ever admired anyone. Neither time nor adversity affected the woman and truly, in her amoral view of the world, she was brilliant. Evadne had never lost her capacity to trust and Glynn hated that it was that that very trust would cause her downfall. Had Evadne done as her advisors had wished, then Glynn would still be in Four and Mags and Marquise would now be strangers. There would be no empowered victors, just isolated victims, broken and forbidden to use their money for anything but their private entertainment.
But if Evadne had been less permissive, she would not be living her last days. Glynn scowled at the bitter irony of it.
She started when a crash announced Rhapsody's entry. She'd known her daughter more graceful.
"Mother, the President wants to see you," she said hoarsely, her chest heaving as she regained her breath.
Glynn only blinked, an odd wave of calm washing over her. It was expected, it had been planned. She had to play her part to the very end.
"Take care, love," Syrianus said, his hand reluctantly releasing hers when she made herself pull away.
She had to go now, before she lost her strength.
"If you receive the signal, take the hovercraft," Glynn said, struggling not to echo the anguish plain husband's dark eyes.
She'd just have to bite hard enough if she was compromised, and the hollow tooth would fill her brain with neurotrophic factor and opioids, erasing pain and fear, and sending a message to the loved ones through the tracker in her veins.
"We know," Rhapsody snapped, her eyes bright.
Glynn's throat tightened. Her courage couldn't fail her now. "It's important you understand enough to do it," she told her daughter, painfully aware of how hard it would be for them to simply walk away. "And that you drag your father with you if he protests."
The curvy silver-haired woman nodded, graver than any twenty-five year old should be. It was barely adult in the Capitol. Her innocence had been stolen much too early.
It was her fault. Glynn had revealed their plans to her daughter, almost causing a permanent chasm between her and Syrianus, while Rhapsody was still in school, long before Larimar had ever suspected the vastness of his mother's ambitions. Glynn would never deprive anyone she loved of awareness, it was the worst form of disrespect, to keep someone in ignorance, to steal away their ability to choose, but sometimes she wished she had been able to lie, to promise her beautiful Rhapsody that she was safe, that she could be careless and happy without living in fear.
It was almost painful when she saw how easily Sol and Lorelei laughed, how Mags lit up whenever they engaged in carefree banter. Glynn had taken that from Rhapsody, to prepare for the future, and Panem had better be damn grateful for it.
"Ma, I love you," her daughter said with a soft knowing smile, "I don't feel manipulated, I'm proud of who I am."
"I know," Glynn said, impulsively reaching out to stroke her daughter's flushed cheek. She knew that if she hugged any of them, she would cry.
"It's important you understand enough to believe it," Rhapsody said pointedly, echoing her mother's earlier words as she crossed her arms.
A rueful grin broke Glynn's lips. Touché. "Don't forget to get married," she ordered playfully as she fastened her jacket.
As she walked out, she didn't dare look back. She didn't want them to see her fear.
Evadne was looking at her with something akin to compassion. Glynn gave her a formal bow, a small smile on her face. She wondered if Panem would ever have a ruler of her mettle who had also been gifted with a moral compass or if those qualities were simply incompatible. Out of all of them, Mags had the most experience with power, and Glynn knew her old friend would hate her forever if they forced her to become President.
"Hello, Evadne, what can I do for you?" She said, her calm so practiced she didn't even have to try.
Thirty years of planning and waiting. Glynn's heart hammered painfully in her chest.
"I believe you were once familiar with Marlin Hitch?"
Glynn's lips parted in unfeigned shock. "Marlin?" She exclaimed. "Yes, he was the very nice guy who never offended anyone. He'd never put his family in danger. What did he ever do?"
Of course, it was what Marlin knew, not what he did, that could cause problems, but Evadne knew quite well that Mags let people believe what they wanted to keep them docile. Glynn's stomach churned at the thought of her friends. Marlin, what had happened?
"We interrogated him, and -" Evadne paused at Glynn's horrified expression. Her golden eyes tightened slightly at the thought of justifying herself. "We got him drunk and gave him exhilarants to make him talk. He doesn't have a scratch on him," she said, her lips quirking.
Glynn grinned, a relieved breath escaping her lungs. Circe, she was too old for such shocks. "Alright, you're forgiven then."
The President lifted her eyes skyward, but Glynn saw no disapproval at her insolence.
She didn't care what Mags though, Evadne was lonely, and she couldn't fathom how no one in the Capitol had realized how far being simply kind and not asking for anything went with the President. Oh, Evadne Achlys was undeniably callous, evil even, but she was human, and daring to be familiar with the woman was the best risk Glynn had ever taken.
"Why Marlin though?" Glynn frowned. "What did Mags do?" she said, her voice thick with concern.
She just hoped the woman would not realize how deep her concern went, but if Mags had been discovered, they would be having a very different conversation.
"Everyone has very different opinions of who Mags serves."
"Mags serves Panem," Glynn replied, conviction etched in her features. A smile tinged with sadness broke her lips. "And it's people. She is remarkably compassionate. But she is pragmatic and she knows serving Panem and making every single idiot out there happy isn't the same thing. You should have seen her despair at the workers as she built FLASH. It took her a long time to understand that most people would only do what they had to do to survive. She hates to see wasted potential, that's why she obsesses over keeping the victors united, focused on goals."
Glynn's eyes were far away, she barely remembered the time when all her interactions were honest and her words hid no secret meanings. Every word she spoke was true and yet with every sentence she consolidated the lie that had kept Mags and the rebellion alive all these years.
"Which goals?" The woman who had once been her greatest ally in the Capitol said coolly.
Never had Glynn seen Evadne so uncertain. It made her look so strikingly human that Glynn had to will any trace pity away. There was no going back now.
Light-headed from stress, Glynn almost sniggered as she remembered how appalled Mags had been after her night with Rowan.
"Improving their district, helping tributes who are like… well, like her I guess, to win the Games. Why?" Glynn said seriously, unable to muster another smile. "Has there been trouble in Four? A rebellious group that escaped her notice? She's hated those with a passion since she became a victor," Glynn said honestly. "They were the ones who blocked her at every turn."
"That was decades ago," the woman before her replied, her stern face frozen in a mirthless smile.
Glynn granted the President's point with a nod. "The rebel groups are broken before they form nowadays. Parents keep their children subdued." She sighed when she saw Evadne's unwavering golden gaze. "She may have become a little overconfident, more lenient. She's a grandmother now, she doesn't hold such high standards for young people anymore, but I don't see her turning a blind eye on something major." Her face darkened. "Mags has seen how few people are able to work towards the good of many. She has seen how hard it is to make a group prosper and she knows a rebellion doesn't give you great leaders. That it is destruction driven by the false hope that the future builds itself if you just kill enough people."
Glynn almost choked at the hypocrisy of her words. Rebellions killed mostly at random and hers and Syri's targets were all but random, but she wasn't so blind as not to see the parallel. She tensed, felling horrible for discussing such things so freely with the woman she had planned to kill.
"There has been an assassination in District One. Another one," Evadne said frostily, her ruby earrings reminding Glynn of fresh blood. "I will go there with Mags and maybe she will be able to see where this unrest among peacekeepers originated from, after all she is gifted at creating networks and she has been overseeing academies and training centers for quite a number of years."
"It sounds like a good idea," Glynn said approved, her heart pounding in her ears. District One, Evadne would go to One, with Mags. One of them would not return. "But, Evadne, I'm confused, what has Mags to do with all this?"
The President hesitated. "No definite proof points to her," she admitted softly.
Glynn frowned to cover her dread, her insides turning to ice. She hoped Mags hadn't been so noble as not to frame anyone. If there was no proof pointing to anyone at all, Achlys would have only Mags to suspect.
"If she is guilty of something, will I be allowed to speak to her?" Glynn said in small tones. "She was always the one people looked up to make decisions, maybe if the power is taken from her now, she'll be relieved. She has always felt responsible for everything, Evadne, it has always been so hard for her to ask for help," Glynn said, her lips breaking into a sad smile as thought of everything Mags had been through. Of everything that was still to come.
"We are all getting older," the President whispered, and when her golden eyes met hers, Glynn was terrified to see the wavering apology there.
Terrified, because at that moment Glynn knew that while she had saved herself, she had failed to protect Mags.
The series of "incidents", unproven sabotage and murders, had succeeded in terrifying Evadne Achlys, and with a knife pressed to her throat, the President of Panem would lash out without taking the time to confirm her suspicions.
Glynn stared ahead of her as she left the building, remembering the vicious argument she'd had when she had suggested Mags frame Captain Archon in case the Capitol ever connected the incidents with the peacekeepers from Four.
"He is a good man, Glynn! I will not discard him like a lure. How can you even suggest it?" Mags had said, horror etched in her face as if she couldn't recognize the woman before her.
Glynn had to bite her tongue to keep her calm. "He would die for this, let him make that choice."
"It is no choice!"
"Mags, it is, and it's precisely because he is loyal enough to make the right decision that you trust him so. If you are discovered he will die right after you. If he dies before, you'll stay alive and the rebellion lives on."
"I won't kill him just as a precaution. If it's necessary, then –" Mags turned her eyes away, unable to even finish the sentence.
Glynn hated how Mags sometimes made her feel like a monster. "It will be too late by the time you're sure of that."
There was no war without sacrifices. Glynn turned to Angelites for support.
Uncomfortable, the older woman had walked up to her daughter. "Precioza, - "
"No, we'll make it," Mags had ground out, her green eyes blazing as she walked out the room. "And with my rules," she shouted.
Glynn had almost revealed how many of loyal and innocent avoxes were sent on suicide missions to keep the network safe. She decided once her temper had abated that she would never tell Mags. She didn't want her friend to lose her ability to care. She desperately hoped it would not cost them the rebellion.
And now, she could only wait. Warning Mags would simply confirm Achlys' suspicions. The ball was in Mags' court now. Glynn could only wait.
Her hands painfully tight on the handlebar, Glynn's eyes filled with tears. Marlin locked away in a cell, her age and yet so much older, his skin wrinkled by sunlight and his muscles aching from decades of honest labor and no drugs. The torture would come the minute Mags would give herself away.
Glynn had to find a way to break him out.
"Mags is in deep trouble," she said in way of greeting, her voice brittle as she clutched onto her husband. She wondered if he'd waiting right behind the door all this time.
Soon, they would stop living in fear. Or they would stop living altogether… but Glynn decided to keep that morbid thought to herself.
Author's note
Gah, I hated this chapter! It's basically summing decades of plotting and manipulations in less than twenty pages. I hope it wasn't confusing and that using other point of views wasn't a deterrent.
The next chapter will conclude the third book of this saga. I will begin the fourth, and last, part of this story after I have published the four outtakes I have on hold.
Thank you all so much for sharing this ride with me. A special thank you once more to ETNRL4L, TheWomanWhoCodesAndWrites, Vyrazhi, Shadesunrider13, GreenPokeGuy, I love discussing the finer points of Checkmate and you often give me great ideas, and guests: Well of Wishes, Iacopo, Lollipop, Supernova18, Gingerfluff and Flibidi for reviewing so loyally.
Please review^^.