gentles, do not reprehend

She would never do such a thing on any day, for any rebellion no matter how much they lured in the Avoxes with false promises. But Ama had to do it now, for her friends. She had to know that they were safe. Perhaps she’d be okay with dying, when she got caught, so long as they were safe.

Playing nursemaid to Carol Eyers made Ama familiar with the protocols for being an Avox assigned to a public building. The jail wasn’t so different. She had switched the red Tower uniform for the only blazer and pants set she had left that weren’t completely covered in layers of Clementine’s paint, and she was easily believed.  Left in the Avox wing, Ama convinced another Avox to take a break, and she would bring Jeannie her dinner. She didn’t know what to expect when she approached the cell, tray in hand.

Seraphina was on edge. Lysander had been assassinated, the hunger games had launched, Jeanine had been arrested for Lysander’s assassination all in the space of not even twelve hours and to top it all off - Theo’s nanny was not answering the phone. All she wanted to do was check on her little brother damnit. After the twelfth time of trying to call her home, she froze in her pacing and with a frustrated, “damn it!” threw her cell phone across the room. Hearing the door to the viewing room open, she glared at the newcomer. “Don’t say anything.” She snapped, on the verge of tears.

.

Even if Ama could have said anything, she wouldn’t have. This was far from her first rebellion as an Avox. She knew when to stay in her place, and she also knew the fear that came from these events. Seraphina was just a kid, and she was grieving. Ama walked over and picked up the phone, then moved to hand it back to her.

This is what Moxie had meant about the Games beginning to overreach, and she wasn’t sure if she could do this anymore. Her body held frozen, a hand instinctively clutched at the infant swaddled across her chest as she was unable to tear her eyes away from the carnage. She began to count softly to herself, if not for her own benefit – her eyes felt too wide, as she desperately scanned the screen to see if it was anyone she had known. Words like rebellion and uprising flit briefly through her mind when she hits ‘fifty-five’ on her count and the stream cuts outs.

The silence that encapsulates the room feels deafening, and she can’t stand it, breaking the silence voice feeling shriller than she would’ve preferred but asking the important question, “Do we know who was there?” She thinks through who could even potentially be there; Chip. Addy worked for Lysander. Slate, Slate was his assistant – would he have…?

.

Ama shook her head from where she stood against the wall. She had no idea, and she assumed she wouldn’t know for a long time. She was certain Addy was safe - she worked for District Seven during the Games, not for Lysander. Unless she’d been given a special assignment, like Ama was last Games with that brute from District Four. No, she had to be certain Addy was safe. She had to be sure of it. She wouldn’t let herself go down that path. She’d never come back.

Have their been any news updates? Ama finally asked. There were too many people barking orders and shuffling around, and Ama hadn’t been able to keep up with the view screens, even the ones in the Avox corridors.

Surya peered closer, furrowing her brow in thought as if she was already processing the information that she was still reading. It was a reflex, to try to look like she was pondering when she knew it took her longer than the average person to read. “Ah, so they assigned you to the new team,” she muttered as she straightened back up. “How is the volunteer finding her decision?”

.

Ama nodded, though she was unsure what to say next. The volunteer, Knox, hadn’t spoken to her much. Neither had Konner. But Ama did watch, and she did see, so she had some understanding of at least how Knox was telling other people that she felt. She stands by her decision, Ama wrote. She paused for a moment. She got a 10, she added on the page. Surya surely had already seen the skill scores, but it seemed to Ama to fit with how Knox was finding things. Knox had firm footing, and would probably stack up well against the Careers.

Jeannie had been headed for somewhere a little quieter than the rest of the Tower, as everyone prepared for the launch of the Arena. The thirteenth floor had seemed perfect for it initially, but Jeannie was almost disappointed to see that she wouldn’t be on her own afterwards. Guilt flashed inside of her for a moment. Ama was nice, she didn’t deserve disappointment. “I’m alright. As good as can be, you know? How about you?” She politely nodded at the avox. 

TASK 012. ARENA AND SUPPORT PLANS

TASK 011. A TIME AND A PLACE

1920s

TASK 010. Natural Phenomena

Tree

Hey stranger, she signed. I've barely seen you since the Reaping. How are you doing? For Ama, it had been a better Games than the previous one, but she felt distant and alone up on the District Thirteen floor. It was nice to see a friendly face.

TASK 007. TAGLINE

clever [ˈklɛv ər]: adjective.  mentally bright, having sharp or quick intelligence; able.

trapped [træpt]: verb. past participle of trap. unable to escape, as from a situation; ensnared

TASK 005. THE APPLE DOESN’T FALL FAR FROM THE TREE

Gallus and Ryza Goodfellow believed they were good parents. They provided for their daughters, and they bailed their youngest out of trouble whenever they could. Ryza was the one who disciplined, but she was never cruel. If anything, she was too easygoing, too willing to protect the girls from the consequences of their actions. Ama believes she loved her parents fiercely, except on the colder, darker nights when she wonders if she ever really knew them. It’s been seven years since she saw them taken away in chains. She would like to believe that they’re alive, but she knows that hope is foolish and knows that they are dead because of what they did to help her.

Ma Buck was the other central parental figure in Ama’s previous life. She found Ama when Ama was still a child, eleven or twelve, thereabouts. Ma Buck supported Ama and told her not to be ashamed of her skills. They shared secrets and stories in the afternoons that were spent teaching Ama new tricks. Ma Buck gave Ama special jobs and heaped praise upon her. Ama rose in the ranks in Ma Buck’s little family, feeling more at home with them than in her house with Gallus and Ryza and Avena. The day the job went south and Ama was caught, Ma Buck cut her losses and disappeared.

Surya took a longer sip of her drink as she waited for the Avox to finish writing. She was already nodding and waving her free hand, about to dismiss the Avox. Then, a thought occurred to her. “What floor do you usually work on?” she inquired, tilting her head to the side. She gestured to the notebook as she asked the question, trying to indicate she would take a written answer. She did not have time today for charades.

.

Surprised by the question, Ama nearly took a step back before she took a step forward. She caught herself and wrote Thirteen on her page. It still felt weird not to write “twelve,” when she’d served them for so long. She showed Surya the notebook, unsure of where the question was leading.

Slate smiled just a bit at that, the admission that they were friends. “I get it. How about we both agree that if we need something the other can offer, we ask? No being too proud.”

.

Deal. Ama wrote it on paper. On paper it was binding. She just hoped Slate would take her up on the deal with something she was actually able to do.

“Good,” he said, “but you know you can ask me for anything, anytime. Right?” He felt like a lot of the Avoxes he knew didn’t take him up on his offer, even if they did need or even just want something he could do or get for them.

I know, Ama signed with a nod of her head. She watched Slate for just a moment, then added, You can ask me for anything too, you know. You’re not...he wasn’t what? Not a sponsor, not an asshole? It was true, but was that what she meant? You’re a friend, she settled on. I know you worry, but it wouldn’t be taking advantage.

.

There was relief in seeing cucumber and lemon. Lara was always one concerned with bland tastes, with bad, underwhelming choices out of fancy menus, with missing out on what the others had. With water as a sentence, it was difficult not to feel that way, but she did, in more than a way, appreciate the decorations. She made sure Amaranthe knew, serving her a large smile. “Not the most complicated you’ve had to brew today, is it?” she inquired, still proud of her low maintenance selection, even if it didn’t have the taste of a rich cocktail.

.

Ama smiled and shook her head. It was not nearly the most complicated drink, even of the nonalcoholic ones. She pulled out her notebook. Would you like anything else? she asked. It was strange being an Avox for Thirteen instead of Twelve, but at least if she had to be reassigned it wasn’t to Four. At least she liked all the people she was working for. And Lara was a friend, or at least, Ama thought she was.

“Are you okay? Generally? Anything I can do, get you?” he asked her, sensing that it was a dead end to try to convince her to get involved in this.

.