19 The Fool

Nervously biting his lip, Coriolanus inhaled deeply as instructed by his physician. As the doctor listened to the president's breathing, Coriolanus glanced at his worried secretary and aide standing at the foot of his bed. He forced a smile for Vera and Ashur's behalf, but he had his own worry, for he knew that she would be furious with him.

As the doctor began taking notes, Coriolanus looked at the white handkerchief dotted with fresh blood in his hand and assumed that his luck had run out.

When Julia stormed into Coriolanus's bedroom unannounced, her face was flush with emotion. "Everyone out," she said, gesturing to the open door. When no one moved, Julia barked, "Out!"

The president nodded for everyone to leave. As they exited, they passed the head of security, George, who stood watch in the corridor.

Julia turned to the president's security assistant quietly sitting in the corner of the bedroom. "You too."

Tiberius stood from his chair. "Sir?"

"You can go, Mr. Pullo." Coriolanus looked up at his furious friend and oddly felt comforted by Julia's presence. He smiled and said, "If I deserve to die, I want this woman to escort me from this world. Tell the others that I'm stable and that I want to rest."

"Yes, sir." When Tiberius departed, he gently closed the door behind him.

Rubbing the welling tears from her eyes, Julia glared down at her friend. "You fool!"

"I'm sorry." Coriolanus reached for her hand, but she did not approach. "My dear, it just didn't go as planned."

"My instructions were clear." Julia's hands bunched into fists as she crossed her arms. "All you had to do was to take the antidote."

Feeling exhausted, Coriolanus let his arm fall to the bed. "The drug I slipped into the wine affected his esophageal tears just as you predicted. He bled out rapidly. But the man had brought more of his friends than anticipated. What I did not expect was that everyone would turn to me—thinking that the president had magical powers to heal. With everyone asking me what to do, I was delayed in taking the antidote by a couple minutes. At least, the distraction of the dying man and me giving orders made it easy for Tiberius to remove the evidence."

Julia wiped at her eyes. "What did the doctor say about you?"

"The mucosa on my esophagus was damaged."

"How bad?"

Not wanting to answer, Coriolanus's worry unleashed a fit of coughing. The president coughed forcibly into his handkerchief as Julia rushed to his bedside. When his fit passed, he removed the handkerchief from his mouth to reveal fresh spots of blood.

Gripping her friend's hand, Julia asked, "What did the doctor say?"

"The doctor doesn't think major surgery is needed. He wants to take the conservative approach and let the mucosa-lining repair itself with medicine. Most will heal on its own; some might have to be addressed with outpatient surgery." Snow gently squeezed her hand. "Your sulfite idea worked. They are blaming his death on an anaphylactic shock due to an idiopathic sulfite reaction from the wine."

"I don't care about my success." Julia pulled her hand away. "I almost killed you."

"I almost killed me." Coriolanus patted the bed for Julia to sit before reaching out to her.

Gripping his hand, Julia hesitantly sat on the edge of the bed. "So...another enemy eliminated."

"An incompetent enemy. I wonder if the idiot even knows that he's dead." As Snow stared at his friend, a malevolent smile faintly revealed itself.

"Why didn't you just arrest him and throw him in prison for the rest of his life."

The president shrugged. "Sometimes, political activists are more dangerous behind bars. Moreover, I didn't want to bother Panem with an expensive trial. He was an embarrassment to the country."

"He was an embarrassment to you." Julia kissed her friend's hand. "You don't like liars."

"And I especially don't like liars who steal from me. I'm the best economic advisor this country has ever had. Did he really think that he could trick me?"

"You now need a new economic advisor."

"I have a new one in mind. He's a keen accountant, and more importantly, he has a wife and two kids."

Julia's brow furled. "What does a family have to do with anything?"

"Family men can be more trusted; they have more at risk."

Eyeing her friend, Julia reached for a nearby pitcher of water and began filling a glass. "You're a family man."

"I use to be, before my daughter forsook me." With a playful smile, Coriolanus returned her questioning look. "Are you saying that I can't be trusted?"

Julia passed the water glass to Snow. "No, but I know you'd do anything to protect Panem. This country is your family."

"True." Coriolanus sipped from the glass. "They told me that I missed the ending to this summer's Games."

"Hmm, consider yourself lucky. It was a frightful ending. The girl from District 2, Enobaria I believe, she ripped her final opponent's throat out with her teeth. Quite disgusting really."

"She used her teeth? I didn't even think that was humanely possible."

"I agree. It was quite savage, but I suspect that your supporters will be lining up to meet her. She should win you some favors."

Coriolanus sighed, his exhaustion evident. "I guess it's a fitting ending to the 62nd games. None of it was my cup of tea."

Her anger dissipating, Julia faintly smiled. "At least, the Games were a nice distraction to cover up an unusual death in your cabinet. The evening news never once mentioned it."

Snow reached for his friend's hand. "And I thought it would be difficult to eliminate a paranoid obsessive compulsive who had a germ phobia without raising questions."

"He was right to be paranoid." Julia's tone revealed a twisted brashness. "Just not paranoid enough. Did he open and pour the wine as I predicted?"

"Yes." Snow planted a dry kiss upon the back of Julia's hand. "He even switched the glasses as I suspected. He just didn't think that I had to gall to poison both."

"If only people knew how much you loved Panem," said Julia as she laid herself alongside the president, "they'd know how truly dangerous you are."

...

A couple weeks of bed rest later, Coriolanus looked up from a classic novel when there was a knock on his bedroom door. "Come in."

Antonius, Panem's defense minister, entered the president's bedroom. "Sir, you asked to see me?"

"Yes, Antonius. Thank you for coming." The president gestured to a nearby chair. "Come, sit. I want to go over the latest report regarding the districts."

When Antonius sat down, he noticed the white handkerchief spotted with blood. "Are you not well, Mr. President?"

Snow glanced down at the spots of blood. "The doctors discovered a small Mallory-Weiss tear, along with a couple tiny ulcers. Just a small stress reaction on top of my reflux, all easily treated. I should be up and ready for next Tuesday's crowning of the victor."

"Good to hear that it isn't something too serious, sir." Antonius took a second quick glance at the handkerchief. "Um, the Capitol is excited about this new victor."

Snow dabbed his lips, inspecting the handkerchief for fresh blood. "Ah yes. Her savageness seems to have sparked a fervor this year."

"I didn't realize the crowning was this Tuesday," said Antonius. "That explains why they pushed back the funeral."

Snow gave his guest a confused look. "Whose funeral?"

"Harry, your former economic advisor. Are you attending?"

"Ah right, I was distracted by the Games. I will be attending." Snow set his book aside. "Are you going to his funeral?"

"Of course," replied Antonius. "The cake and coffee at state funerals is always top notch. I'm hoping that there will be pie."

Pinching his lips, Snow stared guardedly at his defense minister.

"Mr. President," continued Antonius, "if I ever get in the way, feel free to ask me to step down."

Snow continued to stare cautiously.

"I've been your defense minister for about ten years now. I see how things work and that you demand a tight ship."

Crossing his hands in his lap, Snow raised his chin. "Some people refuse to listen to me. I need people who can listen when it is in Panem's best interest. Are you a listener?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Does this mean that we can be more direct when we discuss your reports in a more private setting, free of the other cabinet members?"

"Yes, sir," replied Antonius, crossing his legs. "I've wanted to be more forthright and blunt for the past year."

"Good. Reading between your lines in the report, I'd say we have a crisis brewing."

Antonius nodded. "Yes, sir. The population increases are putting too much strain on the Peacekeepers. With your approval, I would like to move a large number of Peacekeepers from 3, 6, 10, and 12 to districts 8 and 11. We need to ramp up our recruitment numbers."

"We can only increase the Peacekeeper budget a little. I know it won't be enough since the population growth of the districts is out pacing the Capitol."

"Food production isn't keeping pace either, sir."

Snow crossed his arms in thought. "Do you have any suggestions?"

"Forced sterilizations have been discussed before."

"No," replied the president. "It would only bring temporary relief. Besides, to make sterilizations work, we'd also need to start forced sterilizations in the Capitol to keep the economy balanced. Capitol citizens would never allow this."

Antonius leaned forward onto his knees as he lowered his voice. "We don't have to tell them."

"No." The president firmly shook his head. "This is one area we must not tread. It would be an affront to nature."

"The weight on the country is too much."

"Then the districts must bear it," said Snow. "It was their treason that led us here."

Antonius gnawed his lip. "That was over 60 years ago. None of the conspirators of that time remain alive."

"True, but we must keep a close eye on the districts. The desire to tear apart Panem has never gone away."

"Our intelligence has not gathered anything indicating an uprising."

Snow waved his finger impatiently. "No. There is a danger out there. It lurks in the shadows. The first treasonists may be long dead, but the spirit of the rebellion lives on in secret, waiting for Panem to become weak."

"You speak as if you know something." Antonius straightened in his chair. "Why not confront them?"

"Because we can't. Currently, they are ghosts in waiting, buried in tombs far from our reach." Afraid that he had said too much, Snow eyes sharpened on his defense minister. "Let us hope that they remain buried for decades to come. It is imperative that we find other ways to adjust to Panem's various fluctuations."

"Okay." Antonius nodded. "I think it best to change our defense meetings to weekly."

"Agreed," confirmed Snow.

"And perhaps our weekly meetings should remain private in natured, leaving the cabinet to their regular meetings. This way we can speak more forthright."

Snow nodded. "Yes. That would be for the best."

Rising to leave, Antonius paused. "These ghosts, can you tell me more?"

"If the resources of Panem continue to be stretched too thin, I may. But for now, this information can only be passed between presidents."

Slow in his response—and sounding disappointed, Antonius said, "Okay."

"Thank you, Antonius."

"Good day, Mr. President." The defense minister bowed and proceeded to the door. When he opened it, the president's trusted secretary stood in the hall, patiently waiting. "Hello, Vera," said Antonius in greeting. Stepping aside, he held the door open for the secretary to pass.

Vera stepped inside. "Hello, Antonius." When the secretary turned to Coriolanus, her face revealed a look of concern that could not be mistaken. "Mr. President."

Coriolanus sat up. "Vera, is there something wrong?"

"I have important news, Mr. President."

"Well, what is it?"

Bunching her lips, Vera turned to Antonius. "Sorry, this is private."

"No worries." Antonius stepped through the door, shutting it softly behind him.

The secretary stepped forward and sat on the edge of Coriolanus's bed, her face reddening with emotion.

Coriolanus reached out for her hand. "My friend, what's the matter? Did something bad happen?"

"No. Nothing terrible, Mr. Pres—" Vera swallowed as she sniffled back tears, steadying herself. With a smile stretching across her lips, she said, "Coriolanus, as of this morning, you are a grandfather."

...

When the doors opened, the president was first to exit from the hospital elevator. Vera and George next sprung out from the car, unable to catch up.

"Sir," said George, "please don't overtax yourself. You haven't fully recovered from your throat ulcers."

"I've recovered enough."

"We don't want you to get sick again," commented Vera, her high heels forcing her to take short, rapid steps.

"We're in a hospital. What better place to be if I should fall ill." Following the signs to the nursery, Coriolanus stopped in his tracks when he spotted the middle-aged woman standing before the viewing glass. Taking a deep breath, the president stepped forward. "Hello, Mary."

"Mr. President." When the nanny recognized Vera and George, she greeted them with a warm smile. "I'm glad that all of you could come."

With the excitement of a first time father, Coriolanus touched the glass and peered inside. "Which one?"

Mary pointed to the bassinet directly in front of her. Inside, a tiny baby laid sleeping, wrapped snuggly in pink.

"Ahh," swooned Vera. "Coriolanus, you have a granddaughter."

The president's face beamed with joy. "What's her name?"

"Gaia," replied Mary.

George patted the president on the back. "That's a wonder strong name."

"Yes it is," said the president, choking blissfully on his words. "Gaia Snow."

"Gaia Raphael," corrected Mary. "Your daughter's married name is now Livia Raphael."

"Right," said the president. "Vera told me of her marriage last year." The president continued to gaze down on his granddaughter. "She's perfect. How is Livia?"

"She's good," replied Mary. "There were no complications."

Vera took a picture with her smartphone. "Mary, it looks as if you have a new pupil. Are you going to be Gaia's nanny?"

Mary's smile grew. "Yes. Livia has already asked me."

Coriolanus glanced at the nanny out of the corner of his eye. "You're not her nanny; you're her grandmother. There's no beating around the bush."

Squeezing the president's arm, Vera let out a short squeal. "I can't wait to hold her."

Coriolanus laid a soft hand on Mary's shoulder. "Can I see Livia?"

The smile on the nanny's face faded, causing an awkward silence to fill the hallway. Mary glanced past the president at the two other visitors. "May we?"

"Ah yes." Vera took a step back. "George and I will be at the gift shop."

"Shall I send up your body guards, Mr. President?" asked George.

"No, George. They can remain in the lobby. I'll be down shortly."

"Very good, sir." George offered Vera his arm, and they together walked back towards the elevator.

When alone, Mary turned to the president. "She doesn't want to see you."

Coriolanus's brow furled. "Why was I then informed about my granddaughter?"

"Her husband talked her into it. He believes it's good to be exposed to one's grandparents."

With a knitted brow, Coriolanus gazed upon Gaia. "My daughter agreed to me seeing my granddaughter, but she still will not see me?"

Mary turned to the nursery, placing her hand upon the glass. "Livia says that the greatest crime one can do is to deny someone their family. She said that you'd understand."

Taking a deep breath, Coriolanus's cheeks began to flush. "She still blames me for her mother's death."

"She thinks that her mother's death was preventable." Mary turned to study the president. "Was it?"

Clenching his jaw, Coriolanus's head bowed until it nearly touched the glass. "In hindsight, yes, but at the time, no. It was complicated. I wrote Livia a letter trying to explain her mother's addiction to her prescription medicine."

"Coriolanus, even if she accepts your word, she will never forgive you for what you did to that young man and his family."

The president straightened as he gave Mary a solemn look. "That was another unfortunate occurrence."

"Are you saying that you are not responsible for sending that...goon to District 12?"

"No." Coriolanus looked away. "It is my fault, if I must confess it so."

Mary crossed her arms as she returned her gaze to Gaia. With a heavy sigh, she said, "Livia will grant you visits every Sunday if you so desire. You can send a car to have us spend the day in the president's mansion; Livia does not want you in her home. Finally, I must accompany Gaia. Will you agree to these terms?"

Coriolanus put his hand upon the glass and sighed. "Yes. And when I'm with Gaia, I promise to be a loving grandfather. I will not perform presidential duties in the presence of the child."

Mary glared at the man. "You can never stop being the president. The power has corrupted you. Even I can see it now."

"It's not a corruption of power." The president swallowed hard, the faint burn in his throat returning. "It's a sacrifice I have made to keep this country together."

Keeping her focus on the child, Mary's face became hard. "If that's the explanation that allows you to sleep at night, then so be it."

Without a reply—or saying goodbye, the sullen man took one last look at Gaia before heading for the elevators. Pulling his handkerchief from his pocket, his longing to see his daughter began to weigh on him even more.