by Julia Karr
“I was a baby?”
“Yes. It was a wonderful time and also very sad, after your father ...” She paused, and looked at Wei’s dad, who gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. “But tonight we’re going to talk about good times. Shall we have dinner now? You girls must be starving.”
I was so afraid of making some kind of stupid low-tier mistake during dinner that I kept quiet and mostly picked at my food. Later, in the living room, I perched on the edge of the sofa, determined not to miss a single word about my father and Ginnie.
“We grew up together, about five blocks from here,” Mr. Jenkins said.
“Don’t forget Sal’s dad,” Wei said.
“Yes, Brock lived on that block, too. In fifth grade we called ourselves the Outlanders, after the Resistance in Mars Rising. Do you know that story?”
“Yes,” I said. “The B.O.S.S. agents confiscated our copy after Ginnie’s death.”
“What it’s all come to.” Mr. Jenkins sighed and shook his head. “I remember Brock’s mother sewed us Outlander costumes to wear to school on Imagination Day.”
“I have a picture of my dad in a cape with a big E on his chest. What was he like?” I wanted details. I knew how he looked; I wanted to know what kind of person my father was.
Mr. Jenkins laughed. “We were crazy kids, but ...” His eyes got serious. “That was only the beginning.”
“All the girls in school were crazy about Alan,” Mrs. Jenkins said. “He was so handsome. Friends with everyone, but he only loved Ginnie.”
I felt a stabbing sadness in my heart. My mother had a man who loved her like that and then ... then she chose to be with Ed. If my father was in fact still alive, why hadn’t she stayed with him? More than ever, I had to know what happened, why he’d left.
“Being a charmer was not his most important quality.” Mr. Jenkins laughed. “He was clever, intelligent, and definitely had a way with words. As captain of the debate team, he could persuade nearly anyone to see his side of an argument. In tenth grade the Media recruited him to be prime anchor for their Chicago network. That was a plum tier-ten job. They awarded him a full-ride scholarship to college and drew up the contracts to be ready when he graduated.”
“Was he nice?” I needed him to be a good person. Ginnie deserved to have been loved by someone who treated her good.
“To a fault,” Mrs. Jenkins said. “That’s what got him in trouble. He helped anyone less fortunate than himself. He couldn’t pass a homeless person without stopping to ask if they needed any credits or food.” She turned to her husband. “Remember when he tried to start that soup kitchen?”
“I sure do,” Mr. Jenkins said. “Media found out about that side of him and, even though legally they had to make good on the scholarship, there was no job waiting for him after college.”
They were talking so freely that I began to worry. “Is it safe? You know ...”
“Surveillance? Don’t worry,” Mrs. Jenkins said. “It’s perfectly safe here.”
That’s what Wei had said before, in the hallway. I wondered if they had a scrambler. Before I could ask, Mr. Jenkins started talking again.
“Alan won the Chicago regional debate of 2132,” he said. “His name’s engraved on a plaque in the Education Administration building on State and Adams in the Hall of Winners. It’s in a display case halfway down the main hallway on the left.” He winked at me, as if he knew I’d go looking for it. “Media tried to have it removed in 2135, but their plan backfired. The flurry of publicity around their efforts simply put him and his ideals more in the public eye.”
“That was the debate about media versus free will, wasn’t it?” There was that picture in Gran’s album of my dad and his medal.
“Yes. He wasn’t afraid to take on Media versus the rights of citizens; he strongly believed in government by the people, not by the Media.”
“But you work for Media, don’t you?” I didn’t understand how a person could be associated with someone, or in this case, a business that they didn’t trust or believe in.
“Yes, I do.” Pausing, Mr. Jenkins unhurriedly traced the patterned fabric of his armchair. Finally, he raised his eyes and looked straight into mine. “Over three thousand years ago a famous Asian general, Sun-tzu, said, ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.’ Those are good words to live by.”
He sounded like Ginnie. The only real enemy I had was Ed. The thought of being close to him sickened me.
“Dad,” Wei said, “can you give Nina a chip of her father’s debate? He explains it so well.”
“You know I can’t,” Mr. Jenkins said. “Alan’s speeches and debates are so radical they’re considered contraband. If you’re found with them, you can be arrested. Reassimilation is the usual course of remediation.”
“Alan was on the Governing Council’s watch list,” Mrs. Jenkins explained. “His every move was scrutinized from the time he started openly debating against Media—and winning. If he’d never won, he’d be alive. If he hadn’t died, he would’ve been reassimilated.”
Since the start of our conversation, something had been nagging at the fringes of my brain.
“Wait—there was a vert disruption downtown the other day by a guy Derek said was the Eliminator. Is that my dad? Ginnie told me she thought he was alive and in Chicago.” My pulse was racing so fast I felt light-headed. “She was right, wasn’t she? That had to have been him. You said you guys called yourselves the Outlanders. One of them was the Eliminator. Dad’s costume had a big E on it. It has to be him.” I felt like I’d just won the Interstellar Lottery.
All three of them stared at me—then looked at each other.
No one said a word. I took a deep breath and explained more. “Before Ginnie died, she told me my father was still alive. The other night Sal asked me if I’d ever thought he might not be dead and said that my father was a NonCon leader. Gran says Alan wasn’t a radical, that he changed things by talking. Whatever the truth is—I need to know. Ginnie left me something to give to him. She said it had all the answers. Answers to what, I don’t know. But if you know where he is, please tell me.”
“I was there the night your father drowned,” Mr. Jenkins said. “Alan and I were meeting at one of the oases. I arrived first and saw your father crossing the bridge. The streets were icy; a trannie swerved and knocked him off the bridge into the river. I think it was deliberate. The trannie disappeared down the street and your father disappeared into the water. I told the police what I had seen. Alan’s body was never recovered.”
“Ginnie wouldn’t lie. And what about Sal?” I searched their faces for some glimmer of hope, but there was none.
“I’m so sorry, Nina.” Mrs. Jenkins hugged me. This time it didn’t make me feel anything at all.
“If we had more time tonight I would let you hear one of your father’s speeches. But it’s late. Next time you’re over, if I’m not here, Wei knows where they are. You’ll be sixteen soon and you need to know the things your father believed,” Mrs. Jenkins said. “These are the things he would die for.”
“Thank you.”
“Have you filled out your FeLS application yet,” Mrs. Jenkins asked.
“Ginnie bought my contract,” I said. “It was one of the last things she did.”
“I am so glad. Keep that contract in a safe place. We don’t believe that FeLS is exactly what the GC would like us to believe it is. I know that neither your mother nor your father would want you to end up in FeLS training.”
“Gran’s got it,” I said. “I’m sure it’s fine.”
“Make sure it is secure,” Mr. Jenkins said. “I’m sure the government would love to have Alan Oberon’s daughter in their FeLS program. As if that might give it some respectability in the eyes of those who don’t trust the government.”
“My friend Sandy wants more than anything to be a FeLS. She thinks it’s the only way she can get out of the low tiers. She even asked me to talk to Ed for her.”
“Who
’s Ed?” Mr. Jenkins asked.
“He was Ginnie’s boyfriend. She started seeing him when I was four or five. He got her pregnant with Dee and we moved out of Gran and Pops’s. When Ed was transferred to Cementville, we went, too.” I wasn’t quite sure how much to say, but Wei’s parents had been so kind, I kept on. “Ginnie kept us away from him as much as possible. He was abusive and mean. I don’t know how she stood being around him.”
“He’s a Chooser, too,” Wei said.
“He was at my old school the other day and was asking Sandy if Gran and Pops were healthy enough to take care of Dee. Then last night he called me and said he wanted to see Dee.”
“That seems normal,” Mr. Jenkins said. “He is her father.”
“I know, but ...” I had to trust them; there was nowhere else to turn. “Ginnie told me to keep him away from Dee, no matter what. After school today I saw him hanging around Dee’s school. I’m afraid he might want to take her as a Cinderella girl.”
“Sometimes biological fathers do that,” Mrs. Jenkins said. “If he abducted your sister, it would be extremely difficult for you to get her back. He could even have her reassimilated into believing she wants to be with him.”
“I won’t let her out of my sight. But what can I do about school? Will she be safe there?”
“He’d have to have proof of paternity to get her, which he must not have or he’d have taken her already,” Mr. Jenkins said. “What school does she attend?”
“Dickens.” My stomach was churning. Not only were my hopes of finding my father in ruins, but now it was confirmed: Dee was in real danger from Ed.
“I have friends who work there,” Mrs. Jenkins said. “Do you have a picture of Dee?”
I beamed a digi of Dee’s school picture from my PAV to hers. “That’s last year’s,” I said. “Her hair’s longer now. Otherwise, she looks the same.”
“You won’t need to worry about her at school,” she said. “I promise.”
“What are you going to do?” It felt as if they had this whole network of people I couldn’t see, but who were there to do things that needed to be done. It was surreal, but comforting, too, in a bizarre way. And, somehow, being with these people made me feel closer to Ginnie. I had a feeling she would’ve been happy I’d found them.
“My friends will keep an eye on Dee,” Mrs. Jenkins said. “They are very trustworthy and will be sure that no one gets close to her. Would she be afraid of her father if he tried to take her?”
I shook my head. “She likes him. He’s always been nice to her. She never saw him hurt Ginnie. He never hit Mom when she was around.”
A large clock in the corner struck the half hour. “You can count on us for help, but it’s late now. Don’t worry about Dee. Wei, you walk Nina to the bus stop.”
“Sure. Let’s go.”
“Thank you for dinner, and for telling me about my dad.” The numbness that had threatened to take over my heart, after their silent confirmation that Alan was dead, was being challenged by the insistent sound of Ginnie’s words in my head. He was alive. They had to be mistaken.
Mrs. Jenkins bundled me up in my coat—just like Ginnie would’ve done. “Talk your friend out of FeLS. It is a dangerous business, not at all what it seems. You must convince her that even a low-tier existence is better than what lies beyond the FeLS training station.”
“I’ll try.” I couldn’t imagine anything I might say that would sway Sandy’s determination to get into FeLS.
When we got outside, it was cold. And Mrs. Jenkins’s warning about FeLS made it seem even colder. I tried to push those thoughts aside. I’d had enough for one night. I wanted normal—even if just for a few minutes.
“How come your parents don’t mind you walking around alone after dark?” I asked Wei.
“Martial arts. I can show you some moves sometime, if you want.”
“That would be ultra. Then if Ed shows up to try and take Dee ...” I made some flailing motions with my arms. Wei and I both laughed, and for a moment I felt like a normal girl with a friend, just being silly. But that feeling didn’t last. I hesitated a moment before asking, “Did you see Sal today?”
She shook her head. “He wasn’t at school. Why?”
“No reason. I didn’t see him either and I wondered—that’s all.”
“Sal and I have known each other since we were babies. Since his parents died he hasn’t let himself get close to anyone. He even tried backing off being close to me. I told him, ‘No way, Salzo, we’re tight till the end.’ I know he’s afraid of being hurt if something happens to anyone else he cares about. I also know he really likes you.”
That didn’t help my mood. We stood under the yellow glow of the streetlights on Clark, the cold November winds whipped around my legs, cutting through my jeans, chilling me to the core.
As I sat on the number 33, heading home, my thoughts turned to Sal, like I knew they would. After what Wei’d said, I could almost feel myself softening toward him. I wanted to believe her, that he liked me, really liked me. And I could, almost. At least until I remembered that the day we met, he’d recognized my name. He’d known I was Alan Oberon’s daughter from the start.
I pushed Sal thoughts aside, only to be assailed by other things I’d heard at the Jenkinses’. They wanted me to believe that Alan was dead, but Ginnie’d said different. It hadn’t been the drugs talking or the Infinity machine or her injuries. She knew that my father was alive and she expected me to find him.
She also had to have known that Alan was a NonCon. And not just any NonCon, but the leader. Why didn’t she ever tell me? She could have trusted me. I’m sure she had her reasons, but I was her daughter. Who else could she have trusted? A bit of anger at her leaked out and I smacked the back of the seat in front of me in frustration. The guy sitting there whirled around.
“What’s your problem?” he snapped.
“Nothing. Sorry.” I cut my eyes to the left.
He turned back, muttering something about teenagers.
I sat on my hands. FeLS. How was I ever going to talk Sandy out of her life’s dream? As impossible as that seemed, I figured I had a better chance of doing it than finding my father. But I had to try to do both—somehow.
XXII
I got up late, with plans to go back to Robin’s Roost and poke around there. I was so late, there was no time to talk with Gran about my FeLS contract before breakfast. I had to keep moving if I was going to make sure Ed didn’t get near Dee between home and Dickens.
On the way to school, I was constantly looking over my shoulder, scanning the streets for Ed’s green trannie. Derek and Mike came around the corner and Wei showed up a second later. I noticed that Derek got real quiet, and the way he looked at her ... He had the same dreamy look in his eyes that he’d had when he was looking at me two weeks ago. Skivs, he had a crush on Wei! I could not have been happier. No more crushing on me. I could finally relax again.
Before Dee ran off with her friends, Wei told her, “Wait for us after school and we’ll go somewhere special.”
“More special than TJ’s?”
“Yep.”
“Okay!” She grinned and then raced to the school yard, giggling and laughing with her friends.
“Where are we going?” That put a serious kink in my own plans to visit Robin’s Roost.
“Rosie’s.” Wei lowered her voice. “It’s DZ and we can tell Dee what’s going on with Ed. She should know.”
Mike heard “Rosie’s.” “You’re going there? Chocolate cake, white icing, sprinkles on top. Man, that’s the best!”
“I’ve got credits I picked up yesterday playing music with Riley. I’ll buy,” Derek said. “That is ...” He looked at Wei. “If you don’t mind if we come, too.”
I watched him, contemplating how I felt about the shift in his affections. There was the teeniest bit of jealousy rattling around inside me, but mostly I was glad I didn’t have to deal with his crush anymore. Coming right out and saying something like
I don’t want to be your girlfriend might well have ruined our friendship. I would never have wanted that to happen. Plus, I really liked Wei. And they looked cute together, his tall blondness alongside her dark-haired petiteness. I smiled to myself. It was a good thing.
“Why don’t you meet us there later?” Wei said. “Nina and I have girl stuff to talk about first.” She flashed Derek her famous smile and I swear he began melting around the edges.
“Sure. We can, uh, we can ...” His look implored Mike for help.
“Go to the Alley and check out the newest techie crap. What time you want us to show up?”
“Four.”
“Save me some cake.”
When we got to school, Sal was at the top of the steps by the doors. Derek waved to him, but he turned away, following a crowd of students into the building.
“What’s up with him?” Derek asked.
“Sun was probably in his eyes.” Wei squinted up at the sky.
That was a lie—there was no sun on the steps. Derek bought it, though. I think he’d believe anything Wei said.
A male voice behind us said, “Excuse me,” and walked by in a cloud of aftershave. I recognized that smell: Ed. I froze.
“Where’s the main office?” the voice continued. Wei stood off to the side, giving him directions, and I snuck a peek. The breath I’d been holding rushed out of me all at once, my entire body shuddering. It was just a mousy little man, probably someone’s dad.
“I’ve gotta run,” I said. “I’ll be late for first period.” I forced a smile at Wei and hurried off.
Between periods I searched the crowd of kids, thinking I’d at least see Sal. I wasn’t sure why, because I knew that would only make me feel worse. I figured he’d turn away, like he had done outside. Even though I knew it was futile, I was hoping he’d have some reason to come by. Like maybe me.
Stop kidding yourself, I thought. Now that he knew I had less information about my dad than he did, he had no reason to hang around me. He’d probably kissed dozens of girls ... just because it was my first wouldn’t matter to him. Besides ... I’d been the one who walked away. By homeroom, I’d settled into a state of anesthetized emotions. It was all I could handle.