Casca Highbottom stood at a table in the cafe, stirring sugar into his coffee. He had asked the woman behind the counter, a young woman with pink and green striped hair and more piercings than he could count, to make sure she added enough sugar and yet, somehow, she had failed. This happened every single day, Casca coming into the cafe at exactly 10:04 in the morning after his metaphysics class, the woman asking for his order, him ordering a coffee and informing her that it had not been sweet enough the day before, and her still serving him a coffee that was too bitter. It was almost like a ritual, and he wondered if maybe she secretly knew and under-sweetened his coffee on purpose, to keep the ritual going. On this particular day, he was beginning to grow quite exasperated with the woman, whose name he did not know.
What a silly thing for a woman to do, he thought. No, not a woman, a girl, because she could not be more than a year or two older than him and he himself was barely 18. He certainly felt much more like a boy than a man.
Casca's wristwatch beeped, and he realized he had better leave for his next class if he didn't want to be late. Not that he would mind missing the first bit of whatever governance lecture his least favorite professor had cooked up for today, but Dr. Gaul hated him almost as much as he hated her and would look for any excuse to drop his already abysmal grade in her class. Only a few months into his time at the University, it was already common knowledge among the faculty and a good bulk of the student body that the two disliked one another, but no one quite knew why he hated her so much. That was, except him.
Publicly, Casca pretended that he simply found Dr. Gaul's lectures dull, her assignments dreary, and her perspective on the world less than nuanced. The truth, however, was that he was terrified of the woman. Many of her lectures revolved around the harsh —— cruel, in his opinion —— governance tactics used by Panem's authorities in the districts and, on these occasions, she seemed to think that they did not go far enough. He recalled one particular class in which they had discussed whippings as punishment for petty theft. The conclusion she seemed to have come to was that it was an insufficient penalty for repeat offenders, and that she would propose execution by firing squad for the third offense.
Dr Gaul was also a biologist, originally a medical doctor by trade, and she had a lab of terrifying creatures that he wished he did not know existed. She had poisonous rats and giant wasps and carnivorous birds, as well as what freakishly appeared to be human beings with various animalistic parts grafted to them. There were all sorts of rumors about where the people came from: some said they were district people who had tried to incite revolution, some said they were people she had saved from death's door now repaying their debt — though Casca felt he would much rather be paid a visit by the Grim Reaper than by a Volumnia Gaul come to turn him into some freak of nature — and some even said they were students who had committed a variety of classroom transgressions like forgetting to silence their devices or speaking out of turn. He didn't believe the last one of course, but a small part of him was constantly on high alert, making sure he wouldn't do anything that might get a giant fin grafted to his back. Like being late to class.
Casca walked faster than usual down the hall, his coffee in hand, and made it to class with a minute to spare. He spotted his best friend, Crassus Snow, in the second row and plopped down next to him.
"That paper was a doozy," Casca said, pulling a purple folder out of his satchel. "Ten pages on the most efficient methods of torturing criminals was ten pages too many."
"I actually found it enjoyable," Crassus said. "I don't really believe that we should do any of it, but I liked the problem solving element. Creating the most pain with the least effort, the fewest resources."
Casca opened his mouth to respond, but at that moment in walked Dr. Gaul.
"Hippity Hoppity, I hope your essay was fun, you just have the final now and then you're all done," she said in an unnaturally cheery voice.
"Thank god," Casca muttered to Crassus. "Then I don't have to listen to any more of her weird rhymes." He opened his folder, pulled out his essay, and passed it to the boy sitting in front of him — Phoebus, his name was — who was collecting all the essays on his desk.
"Thank you, Phoebus, for facilitating such an orderly turning in of the homework," Dr. Gaul said to Phoebus, picking up the neat stack. "Now, where were we. Ah yes, your final project. I would like to spend today reflecting on what we have learned in this class so that we may, together, come up with a final assignment that is relevant to the course material, valuable to you and, perhaps, even valuable to me." A hand shot up in the back row. Persephone. Dr. Gaul pointed to her. "Yes?
"Well," said Persephone. "One thing I really took away from this class is the value of a centralized government separate from the people. They don't necessarily know what's good for them. That's why the United States, the European Union, Australia, they all failed. They gave too much power to a bunch of imbeciles who had no idea how to run a society."
"Very good, Persephone," said Dr. Gaul. "Other thoughts?" Phoebus raised his hand timidly, and Dr. Gaul nodded at him.
"I think, maybe, um, part of our current problem is that people are seeing all the good things about democracy but not the bad and I, uh, I … I think this class brought to my attention a need for greater control of information flow. Information can be dangerous if the people getting it are too simple-minded to understand how to use it."
The lecture went on like this for 40 minutes, with various members of the class sharing their take aways from the semester. Casca couldn't think of anything brilliant to say, so he kept his mouth shut. Better to get docked points for not participating than to face ridicule — or worse — for saying something stupid. Finally, Dr. Gaul called on the last hand still in the air: Crassus.
"Personally, I was struck by how fast fear, and fear of punishment, can fade. I mean, you throw someone in jail for a few years for some small crime, they come out, they do it again. It's a never ending circle and we never make any real progress toward better control of the population.
"Interesting," said Dr. Gaul. "And why do you think that is?"
"People forget," said Crassus. "Society forgets. Memories of punishments — even crimes themselves — don't last forever. Not even big ones. No one 50 years from now will remember that someone was executed for shooting at a peacekeeper. People move on, our country moves on, and someone does it again, we just go around and around in perpetually pathetic circle."
Dr. Gaul considered for a moment. "And what would it take, exactly, to make people remember?" Persephone's hand shot into the air. "Yes, Persephone?"
"Well it would have to be unique, to get people talking. You can kill as many people as you want, but governments have been killing people for millennia … actually, this could be an interesting final project? What if we had to design a more memorable form of punishment?"
"Perhaps," said Dr. Gaul. "But for what? What is the greatest evil, the crime that must be punished the most severely?" Casca decided to brave an answer because, for once, he was confident Dr. Gaul would agree with him.
"War," he blurted out. "The greatest crime against the state is attempting to dismantle the state itself, challenging its sovereignty."
"Ordinarily I would penalize your speaking out of turn, Mr. Highbottom, but I'm too stunned you had something even remotely useful to say," Dr. Gaul said. "Yes, war. Intentionally becoming an opponent — an enemy even — of the state. So, for your final project, I would like you to design a punishment for your enemies so extreme that they can never forget how they have wronged you. Be detailed and use your imagination." She paused for a moment, surveying the students. "You shall work in pairs, which I am trusting you to choose for yourselves. Do not make me regret that choice. Oh, and if anyone happens to have a roach infestation at home, please consider bringing me a few before your families call the exterminator. We have a new friend at the lab who is a very picky eater." She didn't even dismiss the class, instead simply striding out with their torture essays in hand.