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Training Day Two
Understanding

Maria Nanami, 26

"I don't understand how you did it."

Maria shook her head as the four of them settled down to lunch in one corner of the room. Across the different tables, most of the groups of contestants had been settled. Almost everyone had found someone to work with. Maybe that wasn't particularly surprising, especially considering this year, they knew in advance that two of them would be able to survive. There was no harm in finding someone to work with when there was a chance that they would both be able to survive.

What was surprising was that most of them had still settled into larger groups. Only a couple pairs dotted the tables – Vi and Rick, Marcus and Manaka, Joseph and Alannah. The others were larger. Mostly groups of three, but also two groups of four. And sitting stubbornly in the opposite corner, the group that had refused to come to training. Except one of them…

Vincent cocked his head. "Did what?"

Maria nodded at the group in the corner. "Convinced Jaime to train with you. Ian and I have been trying for two days now to get Elio and Lea to cooperate, and nothing. You broke through in a day."

Vincent shook his head. "Apples and oranges. They were refusing for different reasons. Lea and Elio have got it into their heads that they're going to be heroes, that they're leading a rebellion here to overthrow the MAAB and stop the Games. They think they'll be remembered as leaders, or at worst, as martyrs, rather than victims. Not a bad thing, maybe, and I can see the appeal, but that's not why Jaime's involved. They simply don't want to use their power, and Elio and Lea gave them hope that they might not have to."

Penelope shook her head. "Why wouldn't they want to?"

Vincent chuckled. "Not everybody grew up where you did, Penelope, learning to use their power as a weapon. Maria and Ian and I … our powers are useful, but not dangerous to anyone else. At worst, I can use mine to irritate people, and Ian and Maria might succeed in making people jealous. Other than that, we're simply not going to harm anyone, whether we want to or not. Jaime … their whole power is about hurting people. It's what they do. I can understand why they wouldn't want to."

Maria nodded. It made sense. But the fact was, Jaime was eventually going to have to use their power, whether they wanted to or not, or they were going to die. Of course, the odds were good that they would die anyway, but they would last longer if they were willing to step in and use their power in a pinch. And Vincent had somehow managed to convince them to do it.

She just wished she could do the same for Lea.

Lea Cervantes, 18

She just wished she could make all of them understand.

Lea glanced around the room, picking at her sandwich a little more. It was just so frustrating. If they understood – really understood – what she, Elio, and Jamie were trying to do, most of the others would join them in a heartbeat. They were only training because they were convinced they were going to have to fight. But if enough of them banded together, they wouldn't have to.

"Mind if I join you?"

The voice caught all of them by surprise. Elio beamed at the new arrival, one of the girls from a mid-sized group. Lea searched through her memories of the talent show for the right name. "Makenzie, right?"

The girl nodded and took a seat. "I just wanted to say, I admire what you're trying to do. And I understand you don't want to fight, but … we thought we'd invite you to come practice some first aid with us. We've been working with Anita for the last hour or so, and I think—"

But Elio was already shaking his head. "Training is training. Thanks, but no thanks."

Jaime, on the other hand, didn't seem so convinced. "Who's we?"

"Me, Evelyn, and Kylena."

Jaime shook their head. "And the three of us? Seems like a pretty big group."

Makenzie shrugged. "I didn't mean that we should all team up in the Games – not necessarily, at least. But we didn't want to hog all her time if there were other people who were interested in a lesson or two. We've got a session with Ian right after lunch, so she'll be free then if you're interested, or if you'd like to work with us a bit, we were going to pick up where we left off after we're done with our session. I just … thought I'd offer."

She turned to go, but Lea caught her wrist. "We might just take you up on that."

Makenzie nodded. "Then I guess I'll see you then. If not … well, no hard feelings."

As soon as she was gone, Liv turned to Elio. "I think this might be a good chance for us."

"To what?"

"To talk to some people, get to know them, maybe help them see where we're coming from. They invited us to learn some first aid, not to fight. That means they want to be able to help people. That's what we're trying to do, after all. Where's the harm?"

She already knew what his answer would be. It wasn't about what they would be learning; it was about the fact that they would be cooperating. The MAAB wanted them to train. But she hadn't expected what he said next. "Besides, who do you think suggested that she come ask us?"

"What?"

"I don't think the MAAB is too happy that we're not cooperating with their little game, and they're getting desperate. I bet one of them suggested that she come ask us to join them. They're trying to lure us in with something that seems harmless. Frog in a pot of boiling water and all that."

"What?"

Elio shook his head. "That experiment with frogs in water. If you put them in a pot that's already boiling, they jump out. But if you put them in water and slowly turn up the heat, they'll stay in the pot until they die."

"Only if you take the frog's brain out first," came a voice from behind them.

Lea turned sharply to see Anita standing behind the three of them. "What do you mean?"

Anita rolled her eyes. "That experiment was done on frogs that had already had their brains removed. So if you're using that as your go-to metaphor, what you're really suggesting is that if you can't recognize when to jump out of the pot of boiling water, you probably haven't got much of a brain left in the first place."

Elio's face was growing red. "You know what I meant."

"I do. And I disagree. And no, I didn't suggest that Makenzie come invite you to join their group, but I think it's a good idea. If you're not interested in learning to fight, you should at least learn something."

Lea shook her head. "Why do you care? Most of us are going to die anyway, if things go according to your plan. Two survivors – that's it. Why do you care which of us it is?"

Anita shrugged. "Two survivors, yes, that's what they said." A smile crossed her face.

"Why don't you ask Penelope what they said last year?"

Elio Haines, 16

"Why don't you ask Penelope what they said last year?"

Elio looked up from his plate of food, which he'd barely touched. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that what they say the rules are and what the rules actually are aren't always the same thing. I'm saying that changes – incremental changes – might be possible, but you're going about it entirely the wrong way. I'm saying it's in your best interest, in everyone's best interest, to compromise now and then, and to get all the facts before you make a decision."

Elio blinked. Compromise. That wasn't something he was always good at, but his curiosity was beginning to get the better of him. "What did they say last year?"

Anita smirked. "Like I said, ask Penelope. You want all the facts? Now you're going to have to work for them."

Lea shook her head. "You're playing games with us."

"We're all playing a game," Anita agreed. "So play."

Elio watched as she left, and his eyes drifted to where Penelope was sitting with the other three coaches. With their coaches. Technically, Penelope wasn't coaching any of the three of them. She had no reason to help them. But since they'd already made it clear that they weren't planning on cooperating regardless of what any of them said, she didn't really have a reason not to help them, either.

Elio stood up. Lea and Jaime quickly followed suit. As they approached the coaches' table, the other two fell back a little, letting him take the lead. Okay, then. He'd never really asked to be their leader, but they seemed content to treat him like one. The coaches looked up as he approached. "Can we help you?" Ian asked. Finally was the word he didn't add.

Elio turned to Penelope, instead. "What did they tell you last year about who would be able to survive?"

Penelope raised an eyebrow, glanced around at the other three, and apparently decided there was no harm in telling the truth. "They told us there would only be one survivor."

Elio blinked. That changed everything. He'd just assumed the contestants the previous year had the same information he had now – that there would be two survivors. But if they'd thought there would only be one, and two were allowed now, that meant they had changed the rules. And if the rules could be changed once…

Elio nodded. "Thank you."

He turned to lead the others back to their table, but Lea had stepped forward. "When did they tell you … that there would actually be two of you?"

Penelope shook her head. "They didn't. The girl I fought at the end – Piper – she assumed the same thing I did, that only one of us would be allowed to survive. We kept fighting until they pulled us apart. I would have killed her if they hadn't stopped us, because I thought I had to."

"But you didn't," Lea confirmed.

"But we didn't know that," Penelope repeated. "So if you're counting on the same thing happening this year … don't."

But Elio was already way ahead of her. If the rules weren't set in stone, then they had even more of a chance than he'd thought. Elio was grinning as he led the other two back to their table. "Change of plans. We are going to learn some first aid later – with the other group."

Jaime raised an eyebrow. "Just like that?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because we have a chance to add three members to our group, just like that, when they hear what we have to tell them."

Jaime shook their head. "All we really know now is that they lied last year."

Elio shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe they lied. Or maybe they changed their minds."

"But we don't know which."

"We don't need to know. All we need to know is that the rules aren't necessarily what they say the rules are. Anita was right." The words left his mouth before he'd even realized what he'd said. One of the MAAB was right. Maybe she was even trying to help them. But why? Why would she want them to know that the rules were flexible, unless she was really on their side? Maybe…

Elio grinned. She'd probably thought she was being clever, making it look like she was tricking them into coming to training. But she was actually helping them. And if they had someone on the inside, that was even better for their chances.

He was finally beginning to understand.

Marcus Del Rio, 19

He still didn't understand how Manaka was doing it.

Marcus watched, trying to copy what the younger boy was doing, but he just couldn't seem to manage it. Manaka had been able to hold his breath nearly twice as long as he had the day before, and he was barely gasping for air as they came up. Meanwhile, Marcus had only improved his time by a few seconds. Manaka had to be doing something he wasn't.

Marcus gasped as he surfaced again. Nearly a full minute later, Manaka emerged, short of breath but not nearly as tired as he should have been. Marcus raised an eyebrow. He knew that look. He'd worn it often enough himself – trying to appear winded as he'd rounded the bases, knowing full well he could have left everyone in the dust if he'd tried. "You're holding back."

Manaka's eyes widened, his face red, as if he was worried that Marcus would be angry if he admitted it. But he wasn't angry. A bit jealous, maybe, but not angry. Manaka had figured out how to do what he couldn't – speed up time consistently. And now he was trying to hide it because … what? Was he worried that Marcus might be mad at him, or that he might leave him if he realized that he was doing better, or felt like he was showing off?

Maria turned to Manaka, her head tilted curiously. "Is he right?"

"I … I might be able to go a bit longer."

Marcus smiled and clapped Manaka on the back. "Then try. Really try. Let's see what you can do." He took a deep breath and ducked beneath the water, Manaka close behind. But even as he watched, Manaka seemed to be sinking slower than him, as if even gravity wasn't having as much of an effect. Marcus held his breath as long as he could, but when he finally felt as if his lungs might burst, he surfaced.

Manaka stayed under for almost ten minutes.

When he finally emerged, red-faced and sputtering and completely out of breath, Marcus clapped him on the back. "There you go. That's what I'm talking about. That was awesome!"

Manaka blushed. "Really?"

"Yes! Do you have any idea how useful that could be? If someone's looking for you, all you have to do is duck underwater and hold your breath, and they'd have no idea. None at all. Or if they're chasing you and you jump into the water, a few minutes later, they'd assume you're dead."

Manaka cocked his head. "You don't think there'd be a way to tell."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I just assumed they'd have some sort of way to let us know when someone died, or how many contestants were left, or something. Otherwise, how are we supposed to keep track?"

Marcus shrugged and turned to Maria. "I was just assuming there was nothing. What happened last year?"

Maria shook her head. "There was no way of knowing how many people were left – not really. The MAAB dropped some papers with numbers once, but…"

"But what?"

"But it wasn't the number of contestants who were left. It was the number who had died during that day. But the contestants didn't know that. A lot of them assumed it was the number of them who were left, and then that sped the Games up a bit."

Marcus nodded. "So what you're saying is, even if they give us some sort of hint, we can't necessarily trust it."

"Exactly. I know the MAAB were talking at some point about some other ways of helping the contestants keep track, but the last I heard, they weren't going to do that this year, at least. Things worked out pretty well last year without it."

"Worked out pretty well for them, at least," Marcus corrected.

"Yeah."

"And for the two people who survived," Manaka added hopefully.

Marcus nodded, but didn't say what had been nagging at the back of his mind. Yes, the two people who had survived the Games were still alive. But had things really 'worked out' for them? Penelope was still here, pretty much a prisoner like the other coaches, stuck training the next group of contestants. And the other survivor was … somewhere. But there was no way of knowing whether it was somewhere good, or—

Stop it. Whatever had happened, wherever the other survivor was, it was better than being dead. He couldn't afford to worry about what would happen after the Games. First, he had to make sure there was an 'after.'

Then he could worry about the rest.

Seb Krause, 16

"You can't worry about that right now!"

Seb shook his head, frustrated, as Frederick turned another nearby rock into goo. "I can't just stop worrying about what might happen!" Seb insisted. "It doesn't work like that. It's like that thing about the pink elephants."

Frederick blinked. "What?"

"Like if I tell you not to think about a pink elephant. What's the first thing you think of?"

"A pink elephant," Frederick admitted.

"Or if I tell you not to scratch your nose, what immediately starts to itch? It's like that. As soon as you tell me not to worry that something might go wrong if I write something, that's what I immediately start worrying might happen."

"And I think that's causing the problem," Penelope pointed out. "What you're thinking about. Write the word 'bat,' Seb."

Reluctantly, Seb reached down with his stick and wrote the word 'bat.' Almost immediately, a tiny, fuzzy bat appeared out of nowhere and, quite confused by the daylight, fluttered off. "That's the kind of bat you were thinking of, right, Seb?" Penelope asked. "Not, say, a baseball bat?"

Seb nodded. "Yeah. Guess bats were just on my mind, since…"

"Since one of the other contestants can turn into a bat," Alphonso finished. "So you need to think about the right sort of bat."

"Exactly," Penelope agreed. "And the same thing happened yesterday when Ian told you to write snakeskin gloves. You got a snake after writing it because you were worried that was going to happen."

"Great," Frederick muttered. "So if he's worried something will go wrong with writing it, that's what happens."

Alphonso nodded. "So we need to find a way around that. You need to focus on what you want more than you're focused on what you're worried about."

Seb shook his head. "Easier said than done."

"Maybe not." Alphonso's voice was barely a mutter. "I think I can help with that. See, when I'm sensing emotions, there are times when I don't want to, when I just want to block them out. So I focus on something. Anything." He placed his hands on Seb's shoulders. "Focus on me. Focus on my voice. And then think about a … a feather pillow."

Seb raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Alphonso shrugged. "Because it'd be a nice thing to have in the Games, since I assume they aren't providing bedding?" He glanced at Penelope, who shook her head. "Then that's why. And because there aren't a lot of things that could go wrong. You could end up with a feather, but that's not going to happen, because you're going to be thinking about it being a feather pillow." He pressed the stick that Seb had been using to write back into his hand. "You're thinking about how nice it would be to lay your head down on a nice, fluffy pillow at the end of the day instead of a cold, hard rock. You don't want a feather; you want a pillow. A feather pillow. Now give it a try."

Okay. Okay, he could do this. And for the first time, it did feel like he could. Seb took a deep breath, focusing on Alphonso's voice as he kept talking about feather pillows, about how soft they were, about how good one would feel after a hard day of … whatever was going to happen in the Games. Seb nodded, his hand barely shaking at all as he wrote feather pillow.

And one appeared. Just like that. Seb grinned. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything," Alphonso answered quickly. "That was all you, Seb. You did that, and you can do so much more. You just have to think that you can, rather than being worried that you can't. Were you thinking about just getting a feather that time?"

"No." No, he'd been thinking about pillows, thanks to Alphonso. "Can we … can we try those gloves again?" he asked nervously, glancing at Frederick. The last dozen times, all that had appeared was a snake, but now … now he was certain. He could get gloves. He would get gloves.

Snakeskin gloves. The words were barely finished by the time they appeared, all shiny and new on the ground in front of the four of them. Alphonso clapped, scooped the gloves up, and tossed them to Frederick. "Try them out."

Frederick eyed the gloves skeptically, but removed his own gloves and slid them on. No goo. For some reason, he still didn't look pleased, but that didn't matter. "I wonder…" Seb muttered, and reached for the stick again. This time, he just wrote gloves, but he was thinking about snakeskin gloves. Sure enough, a perfect pair of snakeskin gloves appeared. Seb nearly burst out laughing as he tossed the gloves to Frederick.

It had really been that simple.

Frederick Bouvy, 17

It couldn't be that simple.

Frederick caught the pair of gloves that Seb tossed him, still not quite believing him. It couldn't be that easy – not after they'd spent their entire time with both Ian and Penelope the day before trying to get everything to turn out right. How many times had he and Penelope told Seb that he needed to stop worrying about what could go wrong and focus on what he wanted to do? But as soon as Alphonso said it, it was as if Seb had finally heard the words right.

Oh.

Oh shit. Frederick had to stop himself from saying anything out loud as he watched Alphonso and Seb. Watched Alphonso manipulate Seb into being able to do what he wanted him to do. Frederick glanced over at Penelope, hoping for some sign, some hint that he was right. Her face was carefully blank. Of course. He wasn't her contestant, after all. Neither was Alphonso, but if Alphonso was the only one who could help Seb focus, then that was better for her and her team.

But was it better for him?

To a point, maybe. As long as Alphonso was only manipulating Seb. But this was a fight to the death, after all. How long would it be before Alphonso decided that maybe the two of them didn't need Frederick? He had been the one to join them, after all. He had hoped that Seb's power might be the key to survival in the Games. But if it was really Alphonso manipulating Seb, it wouldn't last forever. It couldn't last forever.

Shit.

Stupid. He'd been so stupid, to think the perfect alliance had just fallen into his lap. Sure, Alphonso's power hadn't exactly seemed useful, but Seb's versatility more than made up for that. Or at least, he'd thought it did.

Now he needed a way out. Maybe not immediately; he could stick around for a little while. Long enough for Seb to protect him. But eventually, he would have to leave them – before they decided to leave him, or worse. It wouldn't take much to kill him – not really. All they had to do was avoid being touched. And with the things that Seb could conjure out of thin air, it wouldn't be hard to create something that could kill him. And Seb might not want to, but if Alphonso wanted him to…

"Frederick?"

Frederick looked up, startled, realizing Penelope had said something. "Sorry. What were you saying?"

Penelope rolled her eyes. "Interestingly enough, I was reminding you three that it's always important to pay attention, even if you can conjure anything you want out of thin air. It's still possible for opponents to sneak up on you or catch you off guard before you have the chance to write anything. You can't afford to get cocky; every contestant has their weaknesses."

"Even you?" Alphonso asked.

"Even me. But you don't need to worry about me killing you. You only have to worry about twenty-seven other people."

Alphonso shrugged. "There are probably some of them we don't have to worry about."

"No."

"What?"

"I said no. Even if you think you probably don't have to worry about someone, they could still be a threat. No, they might not have the most impressive power. Maybe they control shadows, or colors, or can sense other people's emotions." She winked at Alphonso. "Maybe they don't seem all that intimidating. But that's not the whole picture. Do you think I won just because of my powers?"

Alphonso shrugged. "I'm sure they didn't hurt."

"No, they didn't. But they're not everything. There were other contestants with some pretty impressive abilities. There were two who could control water, a boy who could turn into a bear, a boy who could shoot tendrils of darkness at people, a girl who could control gravity, a boy who could project illusions into people's heads, another who could warp reality into whatever he wanted. It wasn't as if I went into the Games and single-handedly wiped out the rest of the competition. Twenty-eight people died. I killed four. I won, but I had to fight for it. Just like you're going to have to fight for it. No one's going to hand you anything just because you can pull things out of thin air or turn them to go. You have to be willing to fight."

"Exactly," Alphonso agreed. "And there are already some who said they weren't willing to, so—"

"So nothing. That's what they're saying now. But after a few days of hiding and running for their lives and living on whatever they can find, they might decide the idea of killing isn't quite as bad as the idea of dying. Nearly half the contestants last year killed someone. And practically all of them were willing to fight when their lives were finally on the line. The people who are saying they won't fight now? Wait until they've been in the Games a day or two." She shook her head.

"Then they'll understand."

Makenzie Norwood, 16

She understood why they were so reluctant.

Makenzie waved to Elio, Lea, and Jaime as the three of them joined her, Evelyn, and Kylena outside with Anita. Elio was leading the way, which seemed to be the case most of the time with the group. The other two were content to follow his lead. Makenzie glanced from Kylena to Evelyn. Interesting, maybe, that a single leader hadn't emerged in their own group. Elio took a seat across the circle from Anita, about as far away as he could get.

That, at least, made sense to her. She had been the one who had suggested earlier that training with one of the MAAB might make it look like they were cooperating too much, that they were going along with what they wanted. But once they'd gotten started, once they'd found a rhythm, it was nice to be able to focus on how to save someone, rather than trying to learn how to use their abilities to hide from, fight, track, or even kill the other contestants, the other people who were just fighting for their lives.

Fighting for their lives because the MAAB had chosen them for the Games. There was no escaping that, of course. But Anita … Something about her felt different. Maybe it was because she was a doctor, and her job here seemed to be to patch up whoever survived the Games afterwards, to make sure they really did survive. And that was what she wanted to learn how to do – to help her friends survive as long as they could.

Makenzie managed a smile as the other two sat down. Anita nodded. "Looks like you've brought some friends. The more, the merrier. Or strength in numbers, I suppose, depending on your outlook."

Evelyn shrugged. "Both, I suppose. We figured there wasn't any harm in inviting them."

Anita smiled. "I agree. So are all six of you working together in the Games, or…"

"Haven't decided yet," Elio answered flatly. "We'll see what happens once things start rolling, I suppose."

Anita shrugged. "Whatever you think will work best. Not really my area of expertise. I've always worked better alone. But when two of you can survive…" She trailed off meaningfully.

"That's what they said, at least," Elio agreed.

"Whatever do you mean?" Anita asked innocently.

"We talked to Penelope, like you suggested." He turned to Makenzie, Evelyn, and Kylena. "There's something they haven't told us. Last year, they told the contestants that only one of them could survive."

What? Makenzie blinked as the three of them put the pieces together. "You mean…" Evelyn finally started.

Elio nodded. "Exactly. Somewhere along the lines, they changed their minds. They changed the rules. And if it happened once, it could happen again. There's no reason so many people have to die. Hell, there's no reason anyone has to die."

Makenzie shook her head. "That sounds like a bit of a stretch." It was a long way from 'one more person can survive' to 'no one has to die.'

Elio leaned forward. "Maybe. But if limits can be pushed, they can be pushed farther and farther. You ever heard of Sodom?"

Makenzie raised an eyebrow. She had, but where was he going with this? "You mean the one that got destroyed?" Evelyn asked.

Elio nodded. "Yes, but before that, it was tested. God sent messengers to the city to see how many righteous men were there, promising Abraham that he would spare it if he found fifty good people. So Abraham asked what would happen if they came up five short, and God said he would still spare the city. Abraham talked him down to forty, thirty, twenty, and finally ten. Ten good people is all it would have taken to save the city." He smiled. "All we have to do is work in reverse. And we're not trying to persuade God; just convince a group of humans that they don't have to kill as many of us."

"And you really think this will work?" Kylena asked.

"I believe it will. But even if you don't – even if you think we can only save three or four or maybe six," he continued with a smile and a gesture around their group, "don't you think it's worth a try? Don't you want to see how many people we can save?"

Kylena nodded, and so did Evelyn. It sounded good. A bit too good. "What's the catch?" Makenzie asked.

Elio shook his head. "There is no catch. The six of us can work together at the start, and if you decide to leave later, that's fine. If it turns out we're wrong, we can deal with that then. If we can add a couple more to our group, all the better. There isn't a good reason not to do this."

Makenzie glanced at Evelyn and Kylena. They all wanted to believe it, and there didn't seem to be a downside. Where was the harm? Like Elio said, they could always change their minds later.

She just didn't understand how it could be that simple.

Rick Clifton, 19

He'd made it sound so simple.

Rick gasped for breath as he and Vi sparred back and forth with the staffs Vincent had provided. Near the end of their morning session, Judah had decided it was finally time to let them practice with weapons, but they'd decided to start with something they might be able to find easily enough in the Games. For now, that meant sticks, but 'staffs' sounded a bit more threatening, at least. You could whack someone over the head with a staff. A stick was just something kids played with and pretended was a sword.

There weren't likely to be swords in the Games, obviously, but Vincent had said that the previous year, some of the contestants had found knives in their backpacks at the start of the Games. There were no guarantees, of course, that things were going to happen the same way this year, and not all of the contestants had been so lucky, but Judah had promised to teach them some knifeplay tomorrow. For now, though, he'd said, it was best to stick to something where the worst they could do to themselves was a few bruised knuckles.

They both had plenty of those by now. Vincent had suggested that they keep fighting, and instructed Rick to try not to affect the weather. His collar was turned off, and he was trying not to do anything, but it seemed to be growing a bit darker. He hadn't had much of a chance to glance up at the sky, but he would've been surprised if there wasn't at least a bit of activity up there.

Rick gasped in pain as Vi's staff cracked against his leg again. Vincent had made it sound so easy: just don't do anything. Don't affect the weather. But he had no way of knowing what it was he did that did affect the weather. He'd had a bit of success the day before trying to steer the wind away from himself, but he still didn't really understand how he'd done it. Vincent had said the weather seemed to respond to his emotions, but he couldn't exactly stop having emotions. So what was he supposed to do?

Rick swung again, trying to dodge Vi's next blow at the same time. The staffs clashed once, twice, and then the rain began to fall. Shit. Rick finally risked a glance at the sky. Sure enough, there was a cloud directly above them, and a few more in the distance. "Maybe we should take a break," Rick gasped between blows. Maybe if he could catch his breath, he would be able to get the storm under control.

Vincent shook his head. "You're not going to be able to do that once the Games start. People aren't going to stop attacking just to give you a chance to catch your breath."

Rick dodged another blow. "No, but I will have the option to run away."

"You will," Vincent agreed. "So try it. See what happens. Vi, chase after him."

Great. Now he had to run instead. Rick's lungs were burning as he took off away from Vincent and Vi. Okay, so maybe he hadn't thought this through. Maybe running wouldn't really be any better. But at least it was good to find that out now, rather than once they were in the Games.

Rick was gasping for breath now. Okay. Okay, he needed a better plan. Forget the weather. He just wanted to win this fight. Vi had nearly caught up to him now. Damn, he was fast. Or maybe Rick was just tired after fighting for so long. Or both. It didn't matter – not really.

Just as Vi was about to swing his staff, Rick whirled around, stopped short, and let Vi plow right into him. The two tumbled to the ground, and the staff flew out of Vi's hand. But Rick had managed to hold onto his, and quickly pressed his staff against Vi's neck. Not hard enough to hurt him, but enough for Vincent to hurry over quickly, worried that maybe he had. Vincent clapped Rick on the back and helped Vi to his feet. "Not bad."

But. The word hung in the air even though he hadn't said it. Only then did Rick notice how hard it was raining. The cloud overhead had either grown or gathered a few more clouds, and it was pouring. "Shit," Rick muttered. "I wasn't trying to do that."

Vincent nodded. "I know. That's why we're practicing. No one was expecting you to get it on the first try."

"Do you want me to try to stop it?"

Vincent shrugged. "Think it through. If you're in the Games, fighting someone else, and it starts raining. Are you going to want to take the time to try to stop the storm, or would you rather know how to keep fighting through it?"

Rick hesitated. "Through it, I suppose, but won't that mess up everyone else's training?" The day before, he'd only been manipulating wind; at worst, some of the other contestants might have had to deal with not being able to hear each other over the wind or something. But this was different. It was bigger. Someone might get upset with him for ruining their training, if they could figure out it was him. But he wasn't sure he could stop the storm even if he wanted to.

"They'll have to deal with the weather in the Games, too," Vi offered. "Better practice, right? Come on. Let's go again." He reached for his staff, and Rick gripped his own, which was quickly becoming slippery.

Maybe this would be good practice.

Coburn Hughes, 17

Maybe this would be good practice.

Coburn grinned as the rain picked up, dousing nearly all of the flames he was controlling at the moment. Savannah didn't look so happy; water conducted electricity, after all. But as far as keeping his power under control, this weather was perfect.

Penelope didn't seem to mind the rain, either. She was smiling as she made her way over to Coburn. "Having trouble keeping a flame lit?"

Coburn shrugged. The flame above his hand was only a few inches tall, but that was a relief compared to the out-of-control flames he'd been producing before the storm had picked up. "I could probably make it a little bigger," he suggested. Sure enough, as he concentrated, the flame got a little taller, but it was still comfortably manageable.

Penelope nodded. "Lilith, come over here for a moment."

Lilith hurried over. "Something wrong?"

Penelope shook her head. "Not wrong, exactly. Just an opportunity to try something a bit different. You've been dampening Coburn's power, helping him slow it down a bit. Now that the water's doing that for him, I'd like to give the opposite a try. See if you can help him make the flame bigger, even in the rain."

Lilith's face was noticeably paler. "I'm … I'm not sure that's a good idea."

Coburn cocked his head. "Why not?" He knew why he didn't think it was a good idea. He didn't want the flame to get any bigger. But why would that be a problem for Lilith? So far, she'd been willing to try anything and everything that Penelope and Maria had suggested. So what made this different?

Lilith hesitated a moment before answering. "The last time I tried to amplify someone's powers instead of dampening them … it didn't go well."

Coburn blinked. He wasn't sure what he'd expected, but he'd just assumed that Lilith had more control over her power than he and Savannah did. She'd certainly seemed to know what she was doing. But maybe … maybe that's what had made them an attractive choice as allies. The fact that they wanted to dampen their powers rather than enhance them meant that she wouldn't have to try something that had gone wrong before, that she could stick to what she knew best.

He could certainly understand that. If he had the option to not use his powers and just not catch things on fire, he would take it in an instant. If he could calm fires down instead of creating them…

Huh. Maybe … maybe he could. He'd never tried – not really – to get the fires to settle down once he'd set them. He'd been too busy freaking out, trying to find a way to keep everyone safe, that it had never occurred to him that he might be able to do it on his own. "I think we should try something else," Coburn suggested.

Penelope raised an eyebrow. "Such as?"

"So far, I've been trying to start fires, or shoot them at something, or control where they're going. I want to try to see if I can … put one out."

Penelope nodded. "In case you catch the whole forest on fire and don't want to kill everyone in the area?"

Coburn blinked. "I was thinking in case we need to put out a campfire in a hurry because we need to get moving, but … yeah, yours is good, too."

Penelope rolled her eyes. "Sure. Just remember, sometimes you might want to wipe out a particular area. Don't try to put out a fire just because it might get a little out of control. If it takes out some of the competition, letting it get out of control might be good."

Coburn swallowed hard. The thought of someone else burning alive in a fire he'd set … No, he didn't want to think about it. "Less good if it's burning too quickly for the three of us to get away," he pointed out with a nod towards Savannah and Lilith. Wouldn't want us getting trapped along with everyone else.

Penelope nodded. "Fair point. Let's start with something smaller, though. But first we'll need a drier area so that something will actually burn. Judah!" she called to the man who had been watching them, ready to press a button and turn on their collars if something went wrong. "Got any sort of shelter we can set up in a hurry?"

Judah nodded. "I take it you have a good reason for not just wanting to go inside."

"Coburn's planning to set stuff on fire. So unless you want to take the chance of your building getting barbecued as well as turned into goo…"

"Point taken." Judah returned a moment later with four poles and a large canvas, along with a pile of thin sticks underneath the canvas to keep them dry. The four of them quickly attached the canvas to the poles, creating a makeshift shelter for the kindling beneath. Penelope nodded at Coburn.

"All right, then. Let's give it a try."

Sybil Herveaux, 21

"Let's give it another try."

Sybil sighed and reluctantly took Judah's hand. Judah helped her to her feet, then took a few steps back. "You're getting better. It's going to take time. What you really need is a partner more on your level, but…"

He didn't finish the sentence. There were downsides to working alone, after all. She'd seen him working with two of the older boys in the mornings, but they both had sessions with their coaches in the afternoons. She'd just finished her own session with Maria and decided it might be worthwhile to get a little combat practice in. But "combat practice" seemed to mean getting knocked down every few blows and having to look at Judah's smug face as he helped her up again.

Just as she was turning around to head back into the building, ready to write this off as just a bad idea, Sybil spotted someone coming towards the two of them. Frederick! This was perfect. Sybil whirled around, lunging towards Judah, but he still wasn't surprised. He dodged the first blow, deflected the second, and quickly knocked her down again. Frederick rushed to her side to help her up. "You all right?"

Sybil nodded. "Yeah. He hasn't hurt me – just my pride." It was a load of crap, of course. If her pride could be damaged by something as superficial as being outmatched by a professional, it wasn't worth having in the first place.

But Frederick nodded as he helped her to her feet. "I know the feeling. Just found out my entire alliance was a sham. One of them is manipulating the other into doing what he wants." He turned and glared at Judah. "Isn't he."

It wasn't a question. He knew. Of course he'd been able to figure it out. Judah shrugged noncommittally. "Does it matter if he is?"

Frederick shook his head. "Of course it matters. Who do you think he'll want to keep around – someone he can manipulate, or someone who might argue with him, disagree with him, maybe even turn against him?"

Judah nodded. "So you're thinking of beating him to the punch and just leaving first?"

"What choice do I have?"

Sybil shrugged. "The boy he's manipulating – would he be useful if the other boy were out of the way?"

Frederick nodded. "Seb – the one who can make things appear just by writing them. That's who I've been working with. Alphonso's the one who's manipulating him, but … but part of it's good. He can get Seb's power to actually work, to get what he's actually thinking about to appear, rather than what he's worried will appear. So that's good, but…"

"But it makes someone who can turn what he touches into goo look a little bland by comparison?" Sybil offered.

Frederick sighed. "I guess you think so, too."

"Your power, maybe," Sybil agreed. "But I don't exactly have room to talk."

"What's yours?"

"Starlight manipulation. I can make it appear, shape it into different patterns and colors even in broad daylight. Nice to look at, but not exactly useful in a fight. Maria's been helping me, though; I've gotten pretty good about being able to keep it in front of someone's eyes. It doesn't completely obscure their vision, but it makes everything blurry." She shook her head. "Still, not exactly deadly."

"At least it's something you can use from a distance," Frederick pointed out. "Turning things to goo isn't much use if you can't get close enough to touch them."

Sybil nodded. "But it's not your power that matters, really – or mine. It's your attitude. I saw what you did during the talent show. You jumped right in and showed everyone what you could do, and to hell with the consequences. And you did it without being manipulated into it. You showed just how dangerous your power could be, and people will remember that, even if it's not as flashy as some other people's."

Frederick nodded. "Thanks, but that doesn't really help with my problem."

"Maybe it does. You said Seb was being manipulated, but if the other boy were out of the picture … think about what a team the two of you could make. Or maybe…" She trailed off. Come on, take the hint.

"Or maybe the three of us," Frederick finished, right on cue. "You said you can use your starlight to obscure people's vision. That might be enough for me to sneak up on them. That's all I need, really – just the chance to get close."

"Exactly," Sybil agreed. "And Seb can make whatever we need, until … well, until we decide we don't need him anymore. If he trusts us, that will make it easier for us to take care of him when the time comes."

Frederick blinked. "Us. You'd really pick me over … over him? Over someone who can make anything?"

"Someone who can make anything and is afraid to? Absolutely. I'll take someone who can destroy everything and isn't afraid to. Someone who isn't afraid to do what has to be done."

Frederick grinned. Sybil beamed at Judah. "Looks like I've found someone more on my level after all. Maybe the two of us should give it a go."

Everything was working out perfectly.

Jaime Sanchez, 20

Everything had been going so perfectly.

Jaime sighed and tried to focus on the bird that was flying overhead. Their head was pounding, but that was all part of the plan. In order to transfer the pain to the bird – in an effort to knock it out of the sky – there had to be pain in the first place. So one of the MAAB had given them an injection to induce a headache that was supposed to last about an hour. Which would work just fine now, but once they were in the Games…

Jaime swallowed hard. They could worry about that later. Once they were in the Games, they would just have to hope that they didn't have a lot of pain to transfer in the first place. If things went according to Elio's plan, after all, all they had to do was put enough distance between themselves and the other contestants, and they would be fine.

It sounded nice. It sounded simple. Or at least, it had sounded simple when it was only the three of them. Now it might be six. Six people together would seem like a threat, even if they made it clear to the other contestants that they didn't intend to be a threat, that they weren't planning on actually doing any fighting – and certainly weren't planning to attack anyone else. Once they were in the Games, it wouldn't matter what they said. All that would matter was what they did.

And Jaime wasn't sure anymore what they were going to do.

Vincent laid a hand gently on their shoulder. "You seem a bit more distracted today."

Jaime shook their head. "I'm fine," they answered automatically.

"You were doing just fine with the squirrels and rabbits yesterday."

That much was true. Just a few seconds of pain, and one of the little creatures would freeze in its tracks. They hadn't had the heart to hurt it much longer than that, but in the Games, if they got hungry enough, a few seconds would be enough to catch it. "The birds are farther away," Jaime pointed out.

"And you're sure that's all it is?"

"What else would it be?"

Vincent shook his head. "What you three asked us at lunch – about how they said only one person could survive last year, but two actually did. You're wondering if they'd be willing to change the rules again, let all three of you survive."

"Six," Jaime mumbled.

"Pardon?"

"There are six of us now … or at least, maybe there are. We spent some time learning first aid with Anita – with Makenzie, Kylena, and Evelyn. They haven't exactly joined us yet, but if things go well during the Games, they might stick around."

"And you're worried about what happens then. Because three people might be able to fly under the radar long enough to get away, might be able to avoid the action for quite a long time. But six? There's no way you're going to be able to avoid attention." He shook his head. "Of course, there was no way it was going to work with only three of you, either. And deep down, I think you knew that all along. That's why you're out here practicing with me instead of inside with them doing … whatever it is they think they're doing by refusing to cooperate. All they're doing is making sure they'll get killed faster."

Jaime looked away. He was right. He was right about all of it, and he had been all along. They'd wanted to believe Elio and Lea. They really had. But now … Now it all seemed like a dream. A beautiful dream, to be sure, but it was as if they were finally waking up, desperately clinging to those last few, lovely moments of what could have been.

But it couldn't have been. It was just a dream. A wish. And it was a good one, but it wasn't realistic. Jaime sighed and focused on the bird once more. Immediately, it dropped from the sky, landing a few feet away from them, squawking madly. Jaime quickly released it from the pain and turned to Vincent. "So what do I do?"

Vincent watched as the bird flapped away. "That depends. Is there another group you'd rather join instead?"

"I … I don't think so. Honestly, I think I'm just better off alone. Maybe I always was."

Vincent nodded. "Okay, then. Then I'd suggest pretending to go along with them for one more day. There's no point in antagonizing that big a group if you can help it. Once you're in the Games, take the first opportunity you have to leave, and don't look back. It'll probably be tempting to stay with them. It's always easier to have someone there – especially since this year, you know two people can survive. But what they're doing won't work, and it will probably backfire sooner rather than later." He shook his head.

"You don't want to be there when it does."

Colonel Judah Burgess, 52

She didn't really want to be there.

Judah watched as Sybil and Frederick headed back inside the building. She hadn't really wanted to come train with him; that much had been obvious. She was holding back, even when she was fighting Frederick rather than him. She didn't really think this would do any good, but that was all right. She hadn't really been looking for fighting lessons. She had been waiting.

Waiting for someone like Frederick.

Judah sighed and headed back inside after them. In two days, only four of the contestants had taken him up on his offer to teach them combat skills. Vi and Rick had been there all morning both days, but he'd never said he could only work with one group at a time. Anita had managed to get six people to come to one of her sessions, and had somehow coaxed the three who hadn't wanted to train at all into working with her.

Judah nodded as she joined him near one side of the room. "Impressive."

Anita blinked. "What?"

"Elio, Lea, Jaime … I don't know how you did it. Their coaches have spent two days trying to convince them to train, and you did it in less than an hour."

Anita shrugged. "Jaime was training with Vincent yesterday."

"So what did he do differently?"

Anita chuckled. "The same thing I did, Judah. Didn't anyone ever tell you that you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar? I gave them hope."

Judah nodded. "Yes, I heard you told them about last year. You do realize that was a one-time thing, right? That the rules won't be changing again?"

"Of course."

"So you gave them false hope."

"If there was any other kind available, I would have given them that. What did you give yours?"

"Mine?"

"The ones who came to see you for training. I saw Sybil and Frederick come in from the same direction as you."

Judah hesitated. "I think I gave them each other. Sybil didn't have any allies, and Frederick … well, he figured out what Alphonso was doing."

"Alphonso was doing something?" Anita asked innocently.

Judah chuckled. "Yeah, play dumb if you like. We both know someone like Seb would never have taken part in the talent show without at least a little bit of a push. It'll end up being good for Seb – and probably for Alphonso, as well. But Frederick was always going to be a bit of a third wheel in that alliance. Now he's found someone new."

"I think Jaime might have, as well," Anita admitted. "Or at least decided they're better off going it alone. They broke off from the group that was with me to go to their session with Vincent, and didn't invite any of the others to come along."

"They probably knew Elio and Lea wouldn't," Judah pointed out. "And the other three haven't invited anyone to join their sessions – just to join the lessons with you." He shrugged. "However this goes, they'll be an interesting group to watch once all of this starts."

"So you're not concerned?"

"About?"

"About the fact that they won't fight."

Judah shook his head. "Of course they'll fight. It's easy to sit here now, before the Games, with full stomachs and soft beds for a good night's sleep, and say that they won't fight. And maybe they won't deliberately seek out a fight. Maybe they won't take the initiative and attack someone else. But I'd wager that if they're actually attacked first, every single one of them would fight back."

Anita frowned. "All of them? You think so?"

"Wouldn't you?"

"Of course. But not everyone would."

"Not everyone, maybe, but those six? If they won't fight for themselves, then they'll fight to defend each other. And that's just as good. We don't need everyone to be willing to start the fight, Anita. We just need enough people who aren't willing to just roll over and die. And I think we have them."

It was more than that. He knew they had them. All they needed was a few contestants who were ready to get things moving, and inertia would do the rest.

Inertia. He'd been spending too much time around Alvin. But however annoying he was, the man was right that the Games would continue to succeed. He was wrong about the rest, though – his constant harping about what the unintended consequences might be. The only consequence of this year's Games was that they would finally have the push they needed to contain mutantkind once and for all.

After this Games, enough people would finally understand what had to be done.

"Only we can protect each other ... We must be united and strong, and willing to deal with the humans as they would deal with us. [He] thinks we can hide in their midst like mice and hope for their understanding."