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"They might. Or they might find it less entertaining if you had imperial help."

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Shell Bell makes a disgruntled noise.

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Sherlock shrugs.

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"What is it like?" Bell asks, folding her arms on the table and putting her chin on them. "Having money, I mean, and enough food that isn't clams for every meal forever and salmon most Tuesdays and Fridays."

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"Relaxing," she says after a moment. "Fewer things to worry about."

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"It sounds it. I haven't been exactly worried since I built up my stash of nonperishables. Even after I started bringing them to Lynnis's family occasionally too. I'm not likely to run out. But I still have to spend so much time on the clam boat and poaching to get a reasonable baseline of calories on the table."

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She has to ask.

"Why do you go back, besides scarcity of clamshells?"
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"My parents would wonder where I'd gone," she said. "If I just never came back. I don't think Panem would pause in eternal stasis if I just never came back. They would worry. They love me. And they eat the clams too. I'm a net positive calorie source."

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"I was wondering if the cause might not be better served by your coming to live with us," she explains.

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Bell blinks at her.

"After I... fake my death? Pretend to try to run away to Atlantis? Magically obtain a relocation visa? It's a good idea if you're willing. But I don't know how to explain to my parents. Or make sure they get fed. I think they'd get by, but not... simply."
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She shrugs.

"Parents are not my area of expertise."
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"If we lived in Eight, Tony could stop there on his tour and announce that he wanted to spend a staggering amount buying a dress for you or something and hire Ranae. But we don't. It would be weird to go to Four and ask for a dress there after having passed through Eight. And having access to the Capitol, more to the point. And Ranae isn't even very good at making clothes from scratch. She does more in repair." Shell Bell chews her lip. "Actually, I shouldn't be worrying so much about the food part. On your tab - if you don't mind - I could buy a big old chest full of cans and bags of things, say I found that on the beach, and trust them to sort it out. The question is how I then slip away."

She sighs. "Maybe it would actually work best to fake my death. Then the question is how to get me to your place when I can't count on Milliways to appear for me anytime soon after I pretend to drift out to sea."
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"Certainly something of a logistical problem."

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"Rather. Is there a way to stow me on the train when the Victory Tour comes by? He'll skip Three until the end, so it won't be the next stop, but..."

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"Perhaps that can be arranged."

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"I don't live in the town near the train stop, but it's walking distance. And I can leave a note for my parents telling them that I'm making a try for Atlantis and when I don't come home they will think I got eaten by a kraken and they will be upset, but they won't worry any further."

It occurs to Bell that people outside of District Four may not know Atlantis-related lore. "Some people in my District think there've got to be other countries besides Panem in the world. Especially since the Capitol bothered to put, supposedly but I've not personally met them, actual kraken mutts patrolling a ways out. Though those could just be to prevent anyone from stealing a boat and trying to live out at sea permanently. We call all the possible other countries Atlantis."
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"What a fascinating notion," she murmurs.

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"It might be necessary for me to steal someone's canoe," Bell muses. "And push that out so it can drift back in later, empty of Shell Bells." She sighs. "This is not going to make Ranae and Shark happy, not in the least, but I can un-die when we're all done, if everything goes all right - and if everything goes pear-shaped I can slip away to the multiverse at the next opportunity without worrying further about them."

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"I believe that is a solid plan."

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"Okay. So a day before Tony's due to arrive, I leave a note, swipe a canoe - that'll be easy, I can melt the lock off the shed and bury it - push it off, make for the train stop, and - what is the plan for getting me onto the train? Are you allowed to travel with him? Will he and I have to figure it out ourselves? How obnoxious is his prep team and escort and mentor and so on? Were you his mentor?"

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"I was his mentor," she says, which answers multiple questions at once. "His prep team and escort love him and fear me. I will find you if you are there to be found, and convey you to our compartment."

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"Okay. I'll leave that end of it in your hands. I would like to know what happens if I'm caught, though, so I know how quickly to start setting things on fire."

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"I will try intimidation first," Sherlock says dryly. "I am very good at it."

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"Good enough that they won't promise compliance and then go home and tell their spouses, or their friends, or Caesar Flickerman's friends...?"

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"Not if you are caught by someone who expects to ever see me again."

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