by Julia Karr
“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.
XXXV
“How about a cup of coffee?” Chris pulled his trannie away from the curb.
“I guess.”
“Relax,” he said. “We’ll go to a little place I know up in Evanston. There won’t be anyone there who knows you.”
I settled back in the seat. The scenery whizzed by as we drove north on Lake Shore Drive, past the rehab center on Sheridan, where Gran would be transferred to. Eventually, Chris stopped in front of a place with an antique neon sign that shimmered JAZZ AND JAVA.
The smell of fresh-roasted coffee was like a friendly pat on the cheek as we eased into the dim interior. Soft jazz oozed from the walls. Chris took us to a booth in the corner. Seconds later, a waitress appeared.
“I’ll have a cuppa regular. Black.”
“And you?”
“I’ll just have water.”
“Don’t like coffee? We’ve got a variety of teas, and our To-Die-For Cocoa is phenomenal. I highly recommend it.”
“Okay, I’ll take that.” I looked around. Posters of musicians playing a variety of new and antique instruments dotted the walls. “You like jazz, huh?”
“Guilty as charged.” Chris stretched out in the booth. “It’s intricate. Each song is kind of like an unfolding puzzle. A mystery unraveling.”
“I’ve never listened to it,” I confessed.
“Well, we are in the right place for your initiation.”
The waitress reappeared with our drinks.
Chris lifted his cup. “To a better tomorrow.” We clinked them together, like on New Year’s. The dim lights hid my blush.
As I leaned back, the cocoa-scented steam filled my head. I closed my eyes, allowing the music to twine itself around my brain, down my spine, and into my belly. I couldn’t put words to how I felt—somewhere between nestled in loving arms and being urged to spread my wings and soar. When the song ended, I opened my eyes.
Chris, his cup cradled in his hands, a pensive smile on his face, said, “Nice, isn’t it?”
“How could I not have heard this before?”
“It’s on the watch list. Media doesn’t like it because it’s improvisational, so it doesn’t get much airplay. Feeling better now?”
“A little.”
“So you want to talk? I’m a good listener. And you know your secrets are safe with me.”
His face was so open, so sincere. I wanted to tell him everything. But here was not the place.
“Not here.”
“Let’s take a drive,” he said.
I was glad his trannie was surveillance-free.
As we wound north, through areas of Chicago I’d never seen, all the emotions I’d been holding inside since my mom’s death came tumbling out. My guilt. My shame. My anger. My fears. Everything. Well, everything except the Sisterhood’s plan to save Joan. That wasn’t my personal secret to tell. Although I more than touched on how Sal didn’t think that I (or any other girl) was capable of NonCon work. “You probably think the same thing.”
Chris reached over, covering my hand with his. “Nina, I have no doubt you can, and will, do whatever you need to do. From what I hear, you’re a lot like your mother. Something of which to be megaproud.”
My chest tingled at the compliment.
“And you have that glint in your eyes, same as your dad. He’ll stop at nothing to help set the world right again. I see that in you.”
“You know, they both sacrificed everything. Any kind of normal life . . . their love for each other . . . I don’t know if I can do that.” I turned my face away, willing the unbidden image of Sal to dissipate.
“Until the Governing Council is altered or disbanded, and the Media is reined in, there’s no decent normal for anyone. The best
we can all hope for in this fight is friendship, dedication to truth, willingness to change, and love where we find it. You can do whatever you set your mind to, Nina. Of that I am certain.”
I almost believed him.
“Look at how you saved Wei,” he went on. “Without any special training and in the face of a terror I’ve never had to imagine. And Ed wasn’t just threating murder—even though I have a mother and sisters, I can’t know what the threat of rape means to a woman. But anyone who can live through that is a power to be reckoned with. A mighty power.”
Like a flash, I suddenly got it. Some people are capable of doing things to a woman that would reduce them to a hollowed shell. I thought of Joan. And those men who never would even dream of doing such horrific deeds would do anything to keep women safe from that terror. NonCons don’t want their sisters, wives, and daughters to get too close to that kind of danger. Still, they have no idea what kind of strength women are capable of, despite that danger.
I understood a little better why Sal and Mr. Jenkins were dead set against the Sisterhood’s involvement in anything that would expose the girls to that kind of sexual threat. But just because they felt helpless in preventing those kinds of attacks, that kind of torture, it didn’t change my mind about what girls could do.
Chris drove down a lane that stopped at the lakefront. The light of a full moon shimmered over the water, reflecting inside the vehicle. Chris brushed my bangs aside. “I’d give a card full of credits to know what you’re thinking.”
Our eyes met, and what I saw in his was not what I expected. I felt an irresistible urge to kiss him. He put his arm over the back of my seat and leaned close. My head tilted up, following my instincts—or was it my heart? His lips almost touched mine when he pulled back.
“Damn. It’s Wei.” He listened, then said, “Yeah, she’s still with me. We took a drive.” He shook his head. “Stop worrying. See you in a few.” After he clicked off, he said, “Guess we’d better go home.”
That break had shaken me. Chris was my best friend’s brother, my boyfriend’s friend, and my little sister’s crush. What was I doing? I was dating Sal—whom I loved. Right? I stared at Chris, steeling my heart. “What almost happened . . . it’s wrong,” I said.