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Authors: Julia Karr

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Family, #General, #Social Issues, #Adolescence, #Girls & Women

Truth (17 page)

BOOK: Truth
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XXXIII

W
hen I got home, it was fifteen minutes to midnight. Reggie dropped me off without so much as a Happy New Year. The minute I got in the front door, I stepped out of the heels. “Aaahhh.” At least part of me could feel good.

I padded into what I expected to be an empty room. Instead, Chris was on the floor, leaning back against the couch, where Dee was sound asleep. He leaped up, his finger to his lips. I followed him into the kitchen.

“She zonked out half an hour ago. You know, I haven’t watched Arianna Lightfoot since Wei was Dee’s age. It was kind of . . . wait a sec.” He checked out the cook center timer. “What are you doing back so soon? It’s not even midnight. Was the party that bad?”

Without any warning, I burst into tears. Chris moved closer, intending to comfort me, but I held up my hand. As soon as I gained control of my emotions, I told him about my whole evening, concluding with, “Kasimir Lessig was going to help Pops, but Paulette spilled wine all over him. She claimed it was my fault and threw me out.” I sounded like a sulky Pre. I looked away, catching my breath. “I should never have gone. I don’t belong with people like that. They wouldn’t stop looking at me. It was awful.”

“Wow.” He ran his hands through his hair. “It sounds awful. You want me to make you some tea or something?”

“Tea’s fine.” I sat down at the table while he bustled about the kitchen. In ten minutes, the steaming liquid was evaporating the edges of my disgrace.

“You know, I’ll bet people were looking at you because you look beautiful.”

I managed a half smile. “I’m not used to that kind of attention.”

“Well, you’d better
get
used to it.” He reached over, lifting the hair out of my eyes. “You’re a very pretty girl.”

“In someone else’s clothes,” I said, swirling the tea in my cup. “It’s exactly like playing dress-up.”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with the clothes, or the hair, or makeup, or anything external. You know, you can’t judge a vid by its promo.”

My mom’s admonition to take a compliment with a simple “thank you” popped into my head, and the words came out of my mouth. “Thanks. But what do I do about the fact that Mr. Lessig was going to help me with Pops? Paulette ruined everything. It’s almost like she did it on purpose because he was talking to me, not her.”

Chris scratched his head. “Doesn’t make sense for her to do something like that. And, Nina, you shouldn’t put too much stock in what Lessig says. Remember the Alerts? He twists the truth around all the time.”

“But even if there’s a chance to help Pops, I have to take it. Otherwise, what’s going to happen to him?”

“Well, you said that Lessig told you his secretary would be in touch.”

“He doesn’t know where I live.”

“Think about it, Nina. If anyone can find you, Lessig can.”

“True.”

“Look.” He pointed to the clock. “It’s midnight.”

We clinked our teacups together.

“Happy New Year.” He leaned across the table and kissed me.

Without thinking, I kissed back.

Shocked at what I’d done, I mumbled, “Happy New Year,” into my teacup, letting the steam moisten my burning cheeks.

Another moment’s thought made me realize it was just a traditional New Year’s kiss. It must’ve been. Chris’s warm smile was sweet, and he was so easy to talk to, but I was in love with Sal. Damn. This night was not at all how I’d wanted to spend New Year’s Eve.

I wanted to be with Sal, or at the very least talk to him. But I wasn’t going to message him again. He still hadn’t called or messaged back. And I’d reached out three days ago. Maybe I’d ruined things for good. Maybe I’d never hear from him again. I needed to turn off my brain.

Chris’s voice brought me back to the planet. “Making resolutions?”

“Nuh-uh. I’m exhausted.”

“I should go. You want me to carry Dee to her room?”

“No. Let her sleep. I’ll get a blanket for her. And thanks for spending the evening with her.”

“Are you kidding? She kept me from feeling sorry for myself. No date for New Year’s Eve. What a loser I am.”

I smiled. “You might be a lot of things, but you are definitely not a loser.”

“Neither are you.” He put his arm around me and kissed my cheek. “Happy New Year, Nina. You deserve it.”

***

One glance in the mirror brought back the whole night’s events. I carefully removed the Kanzashi sticks from my hair and shook it out. There. That was more like me. My fingertips brushed the embroidered crane as I slipped off the dress. It was so beautiful. And I’d felt beautiful in it—even if for just a few hours. I wished Sal had seen me. Without warning, Chris’s compliment rang in my ears, and I remembered his lips on mine. My cheeks burned again. Crazy.

I needed sleep.

That was the cure for crazy.

XXXIV

S
leep turned out to be a cure for nothing. My shame at Paulette’s throwing me out and my confusion at Chris’s kiss were as strong as they’d been the night before.

While I waited for Dee to get ready for our visit with Gran, I called Sal. My hands trembled. One beep . . . two . . . three . . . voice pickup. I really, really needed to talk to him, to hear his voice, to be sure that we could work things out. Why’d I let myself get so mad at him?

Because he doesn’t think you’re capable
, the voice in my head replied.

The whole conversation with Sal played through my brain, again. Followed by the same resultant anger and frustration. I sighed. The Sisterhood would have to show him, and all the NonCons, that girls are able to hold their own and to contribute to the Resistance beyond gathering intelligence and providing technical know-how.

***

“Dr. Silverman says February first.” Gran huffed. “I told him I was fine, but he won’t budge. Says he needs time to assess my recovery. ‘Assess what?’ I asked. I’m an old woman. I’m still breathing. And I feel better than I did when I was seventy. He only wants more time to show off his handiwork. He’s had his colleagues tromping in and out, practically nonstop, since I got here. I’m starting to feel like a sideshow freak. Oh, well . . .” She sighed. “Any more news about your grandfather? They won’t tell me anything here. Mustn’t upset the patient, you know.”

I told her about meeting Kasimir Lessig at Paulette’s party. I wasn’t sure whether or not to mention his offer of help. If it turned out not to be true, I didn’t want to cause Gran more stress. But I saw the desperate look in her eyes, and thought of Pops.

“Lessig might be able to help us get Pops out. He said he’d get in touch with me about it.”

“Dear Lord!” Gran paled, clutching her chest.

“Gran!” Skivs! Had I caused her to have another attack? “Dee, get the nurse. Right away!”

“No, no.” Gran stopped her. “I’m fine. Just . . . the shock . . . Lessig. Oh my.”

“He said he’d known my father. I was surprised at how friendly he was to me.” I was more than surprised. Considering all I’d heard of him beforehand, I wasn’t sure whether or not to trust him. But we needed some hope, didn’t we?

“They knew each other all right, and there was no love lost between those two. Alan never trusted him. He could twist the truth from here to Holiday and have you believing up was down and east was west. Nina, if Lessig does get in touch with you, be careful.”

“But,” Dee chimed in, “if he can help get Pops home, wouldn’t that be good?”

“Of course, dear.” Gran patted Dee’s hand. “Of course it would.” Her eyes betrayed the anxiety she wasn’t admitting to. The anxiety I shared.

***

Outside, Dee and I waited for the trans to show. “Why didn’t you tell me you met Kasimir Lessig?” Dee’s eyes were accusing. “That’s huge news.”

“I did tell you, silly. At the same time I told Gran.”

“You know what I mean.”

Dee and I boarded the number 55 trans.

“I didn’t want to get your hopes up,” I said. “I’m not sure I should’ve told Gran either. He might not contact me again. Not after the whole drink thing.”

“What drink thing?”

After I told her about the incident, she said, “It was not your fault. I don’t like Paulette Gold.”

“You don’t know her.”

“Well, do you like her?”

“I’m not sure.” She’d done so many contrary things lately. Driving the getaway car, championing helping Joan—and then treating me as if I were lower than tier one. I really didn’t know
what
to think of Paulette.

***

Dee was at Maddie’s for the night, and I was pacing a hole in the carpet waiting for Wei. We were going to Soma to hear Derek play.

When she got there, I said, “How about we go down by my old apartment building first. If you’re going to take Joan to Japan, she needs to meet you. She’s not very trusting, and if she’s at least met you, she’ll probably feel a little more comfortable. I don’t want her to freak out.”

“Makes sense. Let’s go.”

I handed Wei one of two bags at my feet. “Food. It’s a kind of a peace offering.” We headed out to catch the trans.

By the time we got off, it was already dark.

“Do you think they’re here?” Wei asked.

“If we walk down by the river, they usually come out of the alleys between the buildings.”

“Where do they sleep?” Wei asked. “I’m surprised they survive when it gets this cold. This is awful.”

“I don’t know.” I thought about that for a moment. “They have to deal with it. Especially since there are no shelters.”

“There used to be,” Wei said. “Dad’s grandfather ran one. It was open for anyone who needed refuge. But then the GC took over running all the shelters and made rules about what people had to do in order to stay in them. A lot of homeless refused.”

“What kind of rules?”

“They had to work at whatever jobs they were given. No drugs. No drinking. No smoking.”

“That doesn’t sound terrible. It sounds like what welfare people have to do now. Like Mike’s dad doing all that medical testing.”

“On the surface, it sounds fine. I mean, we’re all going to be doing some kind of work in order to get credits to live on. But I think it was the kinds of jobs.”

“Like what?”

“Lots of medical experiments. Not only like Mr. Trueblood does, but they’d implant devices in them, just to see what would happen. They’d give people homes, but the price might be amputation and experimental regrowing therapies. Dad said the amputations weren’t always voluntary. They injected them with diseases, giving some of them medicine and others only placebos. Then they started doing genetic engineering.”

“Skivs! That was outlawed a century ago.”

“Yeah. Most of the homeless revolted and refused to go to the shelters. Dad said that the GC closed them all in retaliation. Then Media started broadcasting messages about how homeless carried diseases and were subhuman because they lived in alleys and scurried around like rats. I guess eventually it became okay to abuse and even kill them without getting into trouble.”

“That is sickening.” I clutched the handles of my bag, my cheeks flaming, as I acknowledged to myself that at one time I’d believed Media’s lies.

We walked down to the oases along the riverfront, then back up to the street, hoping we didn’t look like loiterers. We couldn’t risk getting picked up by the police. I’d almost given up when I caught a glimpse of movement between two buildings. It was Joan and Svette.

Svette scowled at me, but she was quick to snatch up the bag of food I offered. She thrust it at Joan. “Take this to the others.”

“No,” I said. “I need to talk to Joan.”

“What do you want with her?” The woman’s eyes turned to slits, reminding me of the snakes in the reptile house at the zoo.

I drew myself up to full height. “I’ve got news about her family. It’s personal.”

“Nothing’s personal here.” She planted her feet.

Joan, who had been silent, said, “I’ll take it over in a minute.” She cast her eyes to the ground, flinching, as if expecting a blow.

“You’ll––”

“You’ll need more help.” Wei held out her bag. “She doesn’t look like she can handle both of these.”

I heard a gasp from the shadows and a strained “Two bags?”

“All right.” The leader motioned behind her, and a girl, not much older than Joan, appeared. “Grab that. Do your part.”

The girl obediently took the bag, and she and Svette disappeared into the darkness.

“What’s happened to my family? Is Mom okay? Mike? Yelena?” She grasped my arm.

“They’re fine. I said that only to get rid of the others.” I touched her icy hand. “You need these more than me.” I pulled my gloves off. “Don’t let Svette take them.”

“She won’t. She’s already got some.” Joan shoved her hands into the gloves. “Oh. They’re warm. Thank you.”

“This is my friend Wei. I wanted you two to meet. Wei’s someone you can trust—with your life. Come with us a sec.” I led her across the street to the DZ oasis. “Listen, we’re going to get you out of here.”

Joan shrank back. “I . . . I can’t go. I belong . . . here.” She pointed to the alley.

“No, you don’t. You belong where people won’t hurt you.”

“But how? I don’t have credits. What will I have to do?” Her eyes were haunted, as if I was going to ask her to do some unspeakable horror.

“Nothing. You’re going to Japan with Wei. She has family there. It’s safe, and they’ll take care of you. But you can’t say anything to anyone,” I said. “Especially not Svette. I’m not sure you can trust her, or any of them.”

“But they’ve taken care of me. Svette’s good . . . Well”—she glanced around, then said—“she’s usually good to me. She needs to keep strong. You know, the scarf for warmth, extra food, things like that. If something happens to her, we’ll all be caught.”

My blood was boiling—Svette stole Joan’s scarf, and here she was defending her. But it wasn’t time for me to lose it. “Promise me you won’t say anything to anyone. Please.”

“I promise.” She glanced across the street. “I’ve got to go. Now.”

“I’ll come back soon,” I said. “Maybe even tomorrow. Keep safe, and warm.”

Joan evaporated into the shadows.

***

There was an Alert while we were on the transit.

It was Lessig. It was FeLS. It was Ed.

All of that wasn’t surprising to me. What I wasn’t prepared for was the picture of my mother that appeared next to Lessig as he said, “This woman, Virginia Dale Oberon, was murdered in Cementville last October. She is the alleged mistress of Chamus, with whom she is purported to have had one child. Oberon was the widow of the late Alan Oberon, mastermind behind the terrorist NonCon organization. Bureau agents are investigating an anonymous tip linking Oberon’s involvement with the phony FeLS training station scandal. It is also noteworthy that Alan Oberon’s father, Herbert Oberon, is currently being held by the Bureau on charges of treason, possession of contraband, and resisting arrest.

“Virginia Oberon also had a daughter by Alan Oberon.” A picture of me, from Paulette’s party, flashed on-screen. I sat watching my PAV, stunned as Lessig continued to rip into my family. “One can only imagine the horrors those children, girls, both of them”—Dee’s school picture joined mine—“must have endured at the hands of Chamus and . . .”

I stared at the projection, oblivious to everything going on around me. I knew what was coming next, but like an express bearing down on me, foot caught in the tracks, I was helpless to stop it, or save myself.

“. . . their own mother.” He held up a chip to the camera. “Bureau agents have given their sworn statements that when they searched Oberon’s home the night she was killed, they found pornographic vids in a locked case. Since these were not a part of their investigation of Oberon’s death, they were not confiscated.” His voice oozed sympathy. “Oh, if only they had been. Then we might have a clue as to
what
those poor girls were exposed to.”

Hot tears threatened to spill out of my eyes, but I blinked hard, forcing them back.

“Are you all right?” Wei asked, her hand on my arm. “Nina, I know none of that is true. You know that none of it is true,” she said.

“Part of it was.” I looked straight ahead. “Those were Ed’s vids they found. I turned on the FAV once, and he’d left one of the porn chips in it.” Even after all the time that had passed, I felt myself redden. “It was awful. It was so violent . . . It was . . . I never told Ginnie. I was afraid to tell her I saw it.”

Wei threw her arms around me. “It wasn’t your fault he was disgusting.”

“But . . .” I pushed away from her. “I think they watched them together. I think he made her watch with him.” A tear trickled down my cheek. “What if she––”

“Nina, don’t! Look at all that your mother did to get information to stop what was going on in FeLS. If she watched that kind of stuff, it’s because Ed forced her to. Not because she wanted to. She did everything she could to stop girls from being abused. She sacrificed everything to get that information from him.” Wei grabbed my shoulders, turning me to face her. “Don’t ever think that again!”

My heart ached. Wei was right—I couldn’t let lies change the way I thought about my mother. How I wanted my mother back, for one minute. Thirty seconds. Just long enough to say I was sorry I thought those things. Ever.

“Wei, what do I say to Dee? School starts on Monday. Even though kids aren’t supposed to see the Alerts, you know all her classmates will know about it. I can’t let on, not even to Dee, what Ginnie was really doing. And I can’t go to school with her to protect her.”

“We’ll think of something,” Wei said.

The transit pulled up to our stop, and we got off. When we got to Soma, I said, “Go on in, I’ll be there in a nano.” After she left, I tried Sal’s PAV. Of course there was no answer. I thought about leaving a message, but what would I say? I clicked off and was about to go in when I paused. They’d shown my picture in the Alert. My mother. The last thing I wanted to do was go into Soma and be recognized.

A hand touched my shoulder. “You okay?”

“Chris.” I made some unnecessary adjustment to my coat. “I’m fine. What are you doing here?”

“I heard the Alert. Thought you might not want to hang with Wei and everyone else right now.”

“You know, I think I would rather leave. I don’t feel much like fun tonight.” I sent a message to Wei’s PAV letting her know I was going with Chris.

BOOK: Truth
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