literature

HG OCT: Round 4 SE: mori alium diem

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Literature Text

Ergo searches the skies in the dim light of dawn.  She's tired of staring at computer screens and maps and corkboards.  Too many things have gone wrong of late.  The elation after the assassination of the president has since been forgotten in the face of Todorov's failure, of losing Hansen, of radio silence from both Chen and Duval.  She keeps the transmitter set to receive, waiting for a sound other than empty static.

Inside, the remainder of her team--Todorov and Smith included--are holding secure communication lines to the pockets of their rebel faction in every district.  Once Duval is confirmed as the new bureau director and secretary of intelligence, Ergo will give the signal.

Then, like the morning glories that open at first light, rebellion will blossom all across the country, and by sunrise the citizens of Panem will wake up to war.  When Duval completes his mission, their victory in this war will be beyond certainty.

She just hopes the children will make it back in time before the skies become another warzone.

"Shahri."

It's not the voice she's wanted to hear.  Ergo turns and sees Duval stumbling down from the rocky outcropping, steadying himself with his left hand.  The way his right arm dangles uselessly concerns her.

Ergo steps forward and guides him to the flat ground beside the cavern entrance.  He sits down, leans back against the rockface, and closes his eyes, his left arm reaching up to clutch his shoulder.  Ergo looks down and sees Duval's wrist swollen and purple.

"What has happened, Duval?  Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he says in a strained voice.  He opens his eyes blearily.  "I'm sorry, Shahri.  I failed."

She kneels down in front of him.  "What do you mean?  Was there another successor?  Someone we didn't know about?"

"He's still alive.  I don't know how, the building was destroyed, and he's still alive.  I'm sorry, Shahri.  I didn't--I should have--I mean--"

Ergo lays a hand on his left shoulder.  "Let us see to your wrist first.  We may not have an x-ray, but I think our medic can still help you."  She lifts him to his feet, promising coffee and trying to soften the immense sense of failure weighing on his young shoulders.

For all her disappointment, Ergo feels a strange happiness. Duval's returned, certainly depressed and injured, but he's returned alive and it cheers her.  It's a good omen, that while veterans like her grow old, posterity lives on.

"He sends a message," Duval says as they return inside.  "He says he's giving you two hours to get out of the country."

Ergo doesn't let the surprise show on her face.  "That is rather generous of him.  Why do you suppose he would offer such a headstart?"

Duval attempts to shrug and winces, settling instead for a shake of his head.

They pause by a doorway and Ergo leans in.  "Pozna, please see to Duval's injuries as soon as you can."  Someone inside acknowledges her command and she turns back to Duval.

"What's the next step?" he asks.

"I shall think on it," she says.  "In the meantime, you must recover.  You have done your best and I think by no means should you believe I am disappointed."

Ergo leaves him by the doorway and clips down the corridor.  She can still give the go-ahead.  The others will still initiate their rebellion.  War will come back to Panem.  And they will fight.

Except defeat is now the more certain of the two.

She turns down a crevice of a hallway, a route still in the process of being dug out.  It's dark and it's hidden and she slides down to the ground, bringing up her knees and holding her head.

War will tear apart more families.  More grandfathers shot in the street, more children living in dead men's homes and sleeping in dead men's beds, more sons and daughters throwing down their lives for a useless ideal.  That uncertain victory cannot be worth all the lives they will lose in war.

She can also do nothing.  And every year after today, one family of every district will be torn apart, their children sent to die.  The Capitol will never learn the people's misery.  Even the president’s death changes nothing; there will be others who take his place.

But it's a consequence that she can accept.  There will be time later.  Time to recover, to rest, to grow, and to renew passions.  To recruit and to plan.  She has learned many things these past few months and it will certainly be of help for when that bloody sunrise she dreams of comes to pass.

Ergo presses her earpiece.

"Final transmission, final transmission," she begins.  "We are pulling back.  I repeat, we are pulling back.  We will rendezvous in precisely seventy-five minutes at meeting point number zero-seven.  I am arranging transportation out of Panem.  We will not wait for stragglers.  Again, rendezvous in seventy-five minutes at..."

As she listens to the acknowledgements coming back through the feed, Ergo breathes in relief.  For all that they have lost, there are still enough of them left to carry the movement forward to the next generation.  Or the generation after that.  They will not rest until the blood is paid.

Now if Chen can just return with the children in time.
Previous: [link]
Round 4 SE beginning: [link]
Round 4: [link]

retreat!

Aras Duval c) ~hisiheyah
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