by Julia Karr
“Cut it out, Sandy. You’re as bad as those eighteens on the express.” The way she said it was like Sal was nothing more than something to be devoured. It shouldn’t have reminded me of the pig-eyed ’lete, but it did. I shook it off, putting it down to me thinking too much about Angel and what could have happened. “Speaking of the express ...” I pulled her wrist over, checking the time on her chronos. “We’d better leave soon. I have to be home by six.”
The guys were still talking trannies. “Hey, we gotta go,” I said. “I’m watching Dee tonight.”
“We’ll walk you to the station,” Derek offered.
“No, you guys hang out. See ya.”
Sal pulled out his PAV receiver. “Hey, Nina, I accidentally deleted my list. What’s your number?”
Before I could reply, Mike blurted it out.
Sal ticked it in, grinning at me the whole time. “I’ll call you later.”
My heart beat faster, but this time out of anger. I started to tell him not to call until I noticed everyone looking at me. Sandy’s I-could-kill-you glare stood out like a beacon.
“What?” I glared right back at her. “Later, guys.” Sandy charged off down the sidewalk.
Derek looked from me to Sal and back again. “Yeah, later, Nina,” he echoed.
By the time I caught up to Sandy, she wasn’t speaking to me. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long.
She stopped in the center island on State Street, planted her hands on her hips, and lit into me. “What do you think you’re doing, giving Sal your number? You knew I thought he was cute and wanted to hang out. We could’ve taken the later express. Do you want him for yourself? I didn’t think you wanted a boyfriend.”
It seemed like a million transits whizzed by us while she went on—berating and blaming me. Finally, I grabbed her sleeve. “Sandy, stop!”
She yanked her arm away and stared at me. “Well?”
“Well what? I didn’t give Sal my number, Mike did. I don’t care whether he’s cute or not, or whether he likes you or not. And you’re right, I don’t want a boyfriend. Between you and Derek ... hellzit . . . one minute you’re my best friend and the next you’re treating me like a traitor. Is some guy we just met more important than the fact that we’ve been best friends practically forever? Huh?”
Sandy dropped her gaze and didn’t answer.
“Friends are supposed to talk stuff over, not jump to crazy conclusions,” I said. “What’s the matter with you anyway? Is this what sixteen is going to do to you? I thought you knew me better.” I marched past her across the street. Then I had to turn around and holler, “Are you coming?”
VIII
Because of Sandy’s tirade, we ended up on the later express and barely got back to Cementville on time. We didn’t talk much on the way home. Sandy apologized at least five times, promising that I was more important than any guy. I knew she meant it—at least she meant it the moment she said it.
At that point, I didn’t much care about what would happen when Sandy turned sixteen, or when I turned sixteen. I was more concerned about being late. Ginnie didn’t often ask me to watch Dee. And here I was, letting some guy and sixteen make me break my promise.
“Sorry I’m late.” I tossed my sweater on the sofa. “Where’s Dee?”
“She’s in her room.” Ginnie came out of the bathroom and gave me a quick kiss. Her makeup hardly covered the yellowing remains of a nasty bruise on her cheekbone. I didn’t say anything. We had an unwritten rule: no discussing Ed-inflicted injuries, period.
I was surprised to see papers strewn on the couch; Ginnie was a total neat freak. “What’s this?” I picked up an envelope from the cushion that had Rita scribbled on it. “Who’s Rita?”
“No one special. She’s a friend.” Ginnie took it from me and stuffed it into her purse.
“Are you seeing Ed tonight?”
“No.” She pulled on a pair of retro Galaxy boots and slipped an imitation sheepskin vest over her sweater. “I’ve got a meeting. I shouldn’t be home too late. Gran and Pops okay? Did you have fun?”
“It was all right. Gran and Pops are fine. There was a foray in their building, Johnny Pace was arrested. Supposedly, he had a transmitter in his room. The cops stopped us when we were leaving, checked our IDs. And Sandy and I had a fight.”
“Johnny? Damn.” She sighed. “No problem with the police, was there?”
“That’s the first time I’ve ever been scanned. It freaked me out a little.”
Ginnie threw her arms around me. “Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry.” She shook her head.
“You really need to teach me that breath-control thing. I thought they’d ED me for sure and then . . .”
“You’re finally ready to learn.” She beamed at me. “We’ll start first thing in the morning.” I followed her into her room, where she put some last minute touches on her outfit. “Anything else happen?” she asked.
“Yeah, one of the cops gave me a weird look when I told him my name.”
“Really? That’s just your imagination.” I thought for a moment that I detected a note of concern in her voice, but she changed the subject. “So what happened with Sandy? You want to talk about it?” She checked the clock. “I’ve got a few minutes before I need to leave.”
I did want to talk. But it would take more than a few minutes to sort out everything. “Oh, and I met this guy today, Sal Davis.” I thought better of telling her how I met Sal.
“Sal Davis? That name sounds familiar.” She tapped her lips. “Hmm ... not coming to me . . . maybe later. Let me guess about Sandy. She thought this guy was cute, but he liked you instead.”
It always amazed me how Ginnie knew exactly what was going on without even being told. “Yeah, and there’s more, too, about Derek. But it can wait. I don’t want you to be late.”
“You sure?” She put her arm around my shoulder and gave me a squeeze.
I hugged her back. “I’m sure. I bet Sandy will call later tonight and we’ll work it out. It’s not like anything’s going to change in the next few hours.”
On the way back down the hall, Ginnie called out, “DeeDee, honey, I’m leaving. Mind your sister.”
Dee came racing from her room and threw herself into Ginnie’s arms. My little sister had more energy than ten genrons. “Can Nina make fried toes? Can we watch movies? When will you be home?”
“Yes, yes, and I don’t know.” Ginnie laughed, swinging Dee around in circles.
“Not too late, Mom, I want to show you a dance routine Corrine and I were just working on.” Dee planted a big kiss on Ginnie’s cheek and squirmed loose. “I’ll pick out the vid, Neens.” She dashed across the room to select her favorite from the AV list.
“I love you, DeeDee.” Ginnie turned her attention to me. “And, Nina, remember . . . if anything—”
“Stop,” I said. “Nothing is going to happen. Quit being silly. Now go, or you’ll be late. I love you.”
“I know, sweetie.” She cupped my cheek in her hand and kissed me, then rubbed her lipstick print off. “I love you, too. We’ll talk later.”
“Be careful.” I watched her silhouette disappear into the darkness.
Dee’d picked her favorite series, Arriane Lightfoot, Moon Academy. It was a comedy about a girl at boarding school on the moon. I slipped the chip into our FAV. When we moved to Cementville so Ginnie could be near Ed, he’d actually bought us a brand-new Family Audio/Video. I figured it was because he felt bad that he’d broken Ginnie’s arm. She said it was so he could watch Athletics whenever he came over.
That wasn’t all he watched. I’d accidentally clicked on playback once after he’d left. It was disgusting—worse than anything they’d shown us in Sex Ed. Just the thought of those images made me want to run and hide. I was never going to have sex if it was anything like those movies: men forcing themselves on girls, some who were much younger than sixteen. I never told Ginnie what I’d seen. Partly because I was too embarrassed, but mostly I was afraid that she wa
tched that stuff with him. I didn’t want to think about that, or Ed, so I focused on what needed doing in the present.
“You hungry, Dee?”
“Yeah,” she said, without looking away from the screen. “Don’t forget the fried toes.”
In the kitchen, I punched a few buttons on the cook center. Ten minutes later Dee and I were snarfing down seitan burgers with the works and tofu fries, all caught up in Arriane’s adventures. Sometimes I really liked watching kid shows. It was like a vacation from real life.
We were on episode two, Arriane was organizing a talent show for her school, when my PAV beeped.
“Keep watching. It’s probably just Sandy. I’ll be right back.” I went into the kitchen with my plate of food. “Hey.” It wasn’t Sandy, it was Derek.
“Nina, whatcha doing?”
“Watching Moon Academy with Dee. What’s up?” It wasn’t at all like him to call and chat.
“I, uh, you know ... it was fun today, the zoo and all.” He cleared his throat. “You and me and--”
“Yeah.” I cut him off before he could go any further. “It’s always fun at the zoo with you guys and Sandy. What’d you do after we left? Did you all go to Sal’s and check out the transports?”
“No.” He sounded disappointed. “Sal said his brother might get mad if he brought over a bunch of people without telling him first. Maybe this Saturday. Are you coming into town? I told him you really like trannies, too. Man, I hope someday I can afford a Sonic or a Janji.”
I laughed out loud. Once Derek got started on personal transits, he could talk for hours. “Sonics are okay, but I really want a Lacodian mini, they’re so cute.”
“Girly trannie.”
“Hey, I’ve gotta get back to Dee. Ginnie’s gone and we’re doing sister stuff. See ya.”
I rejoined Dee.
“I left you some fries,” she said. “I’ve gotta watch my figure.”
“Figure?” I laughed. “The only figure you have is like this.” I drew a straight up-and-down line in the air.
“Do not!”
“Do, too.” I tossed a throw pillow from the couch at her. She caught it and threw it back at me.
In no time we were wrestling around on the floor like a couple of kids. It felt good to play. Much better than angsting over what Derek was thinking. I didn’t want to deal with him trying to be romantic, or interested in me.
We were up to episode four, where Arriane confronts a bully at summer camp, when my PAV beeped again.
I hopped over the pillows we’d thrown on the floor. “Hey there.” I was sure it was Sandy.
“Nina Oberon?” a female voice asked.
“Yes.” I didn’t recognize the voice, so I grabbed my PAV receiver from the table to see who was calling.
“This is Officer Jelneck, Cementville police.”
IX
I clicked on the tiny video screen, I could see red hair sticking out from under her black-and-white-checked hatband. Her lips were pressed into a hard line.
My first thought was that it had to do with the foray. But the police in Gran’s building had let us go. Sal. Maybe he really was homeless—maybe I was in trouble for helping him out. “Yes, ma’am?” I couldn’t keep my voice from trembling.
“I’m almost to your house. I need to talk with you.”
Now I was shaking all over. “Have I done something wrong?”
Her tone changed from terse to sympathetic. “No.”
And then it hit me—bad news. Ginnie. “What’s happened?”
No sooner had the words left my mouth than there was a buzz at the door. I let Officer Jelneck in.
She told me about the attack. How Ginnie had been stabbed and left for dead in an alley. Like sleet bouncing off the sidewalk, her words weren’t connecting to my brain. It couldn’t be. Ginnie was always all right.
“We must get you two to the hospital,” she insisted. “There’s no time to waste.”
“Nina? What’s going on?” Dee came up behind me.
Office Jelneck started to speak, but I held up my hand. Putting my arm around Dee, I said, “Mom needs us. Get your jacket.”
Dee’s lower lip started to quiver. I pulled her close. “It’s going to be fine, DeeDee. Go get your jacket, okay?”
She raced down the hall.
I looked at the policewoman. “She’ll know what’s happened soon enough.”
Officer Jelneck transported us to Cementville Hospital, the largest, state-of-the-art hospital in the Midwest. We were whisked to the Trauma Wing in an area marked “Restricted.” There were armed guards stationed at the entrance doors. Through a window I could see Ginnie immobile, inside a machine of some kind.
“What’s that?” I asked the guard who was escorting us.
“Infinity machine.” His voice, his whole manner, was as emotionless as a bot. He could’ve been one, except I’d seen him take a drink of water before he brought us here.
An Infinity machine. Ginnie was just a tier-two cashier. Why would they put her in an Infinity machine? They were only used in special cases and only for top-tier people. I would’ve asked the guard, but he was busy talking into his PAV.
I didn’t know how the Infinity machine circumvented death, but it did, at least for a little while. There were only twelve such machines in the world. Situated near large metro areas, they were under strict government regulations and security. There were armed guards everywhere on the floor, not only at the entrance. Ginnie’d always said this technology was dangerous, especially in the wrong hands, and should be outlawed. I was glad it hadn’t been.
I peeked back in the window. Monitor lights strobed above Ginnie and tubes and wires snaked everywhere. Blinking hard, I turned away. Through my tears, I saw a man getting into the elport, talking with a nurse. She exited right before the door slid shut, and hurried past me into Ginnie’s room. I stood staring at the closed elport, then glanced back at Ginnie.
Ed.
I didn’t want him anywhere near her, not now, not ever again. After all the times he’d beat her ... what if he’d had something to do with this attack? He was capable of murder, I was sure of it. Cold hate seeped into my veins.
A doctor came by to talk to me and Dee, and I turned my attention away from the elport. Her soft eyes and no-nonsense manner reminded me of Gran. She assured me that Ginnie wasn’t in any pain and then explained the rules about the Infinity machine.
Her voice was gentle, but the words were harsh. “You can talk with your mother for ten minutes; that’s five minutes per family member. You can touch her face and head, but be very careful not to touch any of the equipment. When nine minutes is up, a buzzer will sound and I’ll come in; a minute later the machine will be turned off.”
I pointed to the room. “Why is she here? We’re not top tier.”
The doctor shook her head. “The government doesn’t tell me their reasons.”
It didn’t matter. At least Ginnie was still alive and we could see her. I hugged my arm tight around Dee and we entered the room. My stomach knotted—it felt as if I’d entered my own execution chamber.
Ginnie’s bandaged head stuck out of the aluminoid cylinder that encased her body. A nurse stood nearby, adjusting dials on a control panel.
“Mom,” I whispered, edging closer to the Infinity. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes.” She turned her head slightly in my direction. Her lips weren’t moving, her eyes were sightless. The voice was hollow and metallic, not at all her—a reproduction from her thoughts. It was a sound I was sure I would never forget. “Guess I won’t be home early, will I?” Her sense of humor was still there, but it wasn’t funny.
“Mom.” Dee’s voice quavered and tears were pouring down her cheeks. “You can’t die!” She wrenched away from me and ran to Ginnie. She tried to touch our mother, but was too short to reach. The nurse pulled a small stool out from under the machine and Dee scrambled up on it. She patted Ginnie’s face and kissed her cheek again and again, crying the whole
time.
“Oh, DeeDee, sweetheart, Nina will take care of you.”
“Mom!” Dee stroked the bandages frantically. “You can’t leave. I love you. You can’t die.”
“DeeDee,” the tinny voice said, “you have to be strong. I raised you girls to be strong. You and Nina will have to take care of each other now. Understand?”
Dee nodded, gulping back her tears.
Ginnie sighed deeply. It rattled through the cylinder, and I wondered how the doctor knew for sure that she wasn’t hurting.
“DeeDee, honey, go outside for a minute, I need to talk to Nina alone.”
The nurse led a sobbing Dee out of the room. When the door closed behind them, Ginnie asked, “Are they gone?”
I glanced around. “Yes.”
“Come close.”
I scooted up to her head. “I’m right here, Mom.” Since I’d turned twelve, I’d always called her Ginnie. It was not cool to call your parents Mom or Dad. Now I wished that was all I’d ever called her. Caressing her face, I moved aside the hairs that clung to her forehead.
“Sing to me, sweetie. That lullaby I used to sing to you.”
“What?”
“Please. There isn’t much time.”
I began singing “Highland Fairy Lullaby,” a song I knew so well. “‘I left my baby lying here, lying here, lying here ...’”
Ginnie began to talk softly under my singing. “If they’re listening, they won’t be able to make out what I’m telling you. Keep singing.”
I didn’t understand what she meant, but I kept on, straining to hear her every word. “‘I left my baby lying here, to go and gather blaeberries.’”
“There’s no time to preface this, Nina. Your father is still alive. I’m not sure where he is exactly, but I think he may be in Chicago.”
I fell silent. My father? The man Ginnie’d always said she loved more than anything except me and Dee was alive. “How long--?”
“Please keep singing.” The urgency in her voice was unmistakable, even through the machine.
“I’m sorry, Mom.” My voice was shaking, but I went on. “‘Hovan, Hovan Gorry og O, Gorry og O, Gorry og O ...’”