by Julia Karr
“I understand.” I rose up onto my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I’ll miss you.”
He drew his lips into a strained smile. His eyes misted over. “It’s been my pleasure, my dear. Unequivocally.”
I spent half an hour cataloging the loan of several late-fifteenth-, early-sixteenth-century paintings by Hieronymus Bosch. His triptych of The Garden of Earthly Delights—the Hell side—seemed particularly suited to my situation. Like those poor, tortured souls, I had no way out.
I left work at four-thirty. The trans ride took forever, and I was terrified that I’d get home and Fassbinder would’ve come and gone and Pops would be killed. But I got off the trans with a good hour to spare.
Chris was still at work, Mr. Jenkins, too. Mrs. Jenkins, Wei, and Dee had left me a note that they’d gone to visit Gran. Gran. What would she think of me? I might never know.
I knelt on the sofa, looking out the window, waiting for Angelo Fassbinder to drive up. He was prompt. Three minutes to six. Just enough time to gloat before I gave him my answer.
I was at the door before he could knock. “Come in,” I said.
“All alone, are we?” He nodded up the stairs.
“Yes.”
“Good. No reason to get comfortable, Miss Oberon. A simple yes or no will suffice.” He held his wrist out, taking stock of his chronos. “Mr. Lessig is waiting for my call. And your answer is?”
I took a deep breath. The entire conversation with Mrs. Jenkins flashed through my brain. “Yes,” I said. “I’ll do it.”
“Hmmm.” He sized me up. “Mr. Lessig demands proof of loyalty. Tomorrow afternoon. Receipts from Mr. Jenkins’s trip to the Southern Protectorates shouldn’t be difficult to find. I hear he’s quite anal about keeping things. Oh, and Mr. Lessig will want you to confirm what you know about the blocking devices that are in use in this building. A schematic would be good. After school. I’ll be waiting.”
As soon as he was out the door, I snuck into Mr. Jenkins’s office. The receipts were easy to find. The schematic for the house? No way.
I called Dorrie. “Can you have me something by three?”
“I’ll send it to your PAV.”
Twenty-four more hours.
XXXIX
“What are you doing?”
I lifted my head to see Dee standing in the doorway. “Looking for some clothes to give to a friend. She, uh . . .” I couldn’t tell Dee the truth. Not now. She couldn’t know about Joan, about any of what I was planning. “There was a fire. She doesn’t have anything. She’s about Ginnie’s size.”
“Oh, that’s nice of you. Are you going to see her tonight?”
“No.” I selected a pair of Ginnie’s jeans and a sweater that wasn’t too expired. Dee and I had already pulled out anything that was important for us. I felt bad lying to Dee about Joan. But I felt worse being so enveloped in the smell of my mom. And knowing that after tonight, I’d never smell it again. Ever. I was using one of her scarves, but it smelled more like me now. Don’t think about that; focus on the task at hand, I told myself. “How’s Gran?” Another never again. “Did you tell her I love her?”
“Of course. She missed seeing you. She’s doing really well. Dr. Silverman was there, and he said she’ll be out by February first.” She frowned. “She asked about Pops, but I didn’t know what to tell her. You think Pops might be out by then?”
Pops. This was all for him. “I hope so, Dee. I really hope so.”
She picked out one of Ginnie’s dresses, a fancy one she never wore but used to let Dee play dress-up in. “Remember how I’d dance around the room like I was at a ball?” She held it up to herself and gazed in the mirror. “I bet Mom looked beautiful in this.”
At that moment, Dee looked a lot like Ginnie. I couldn’t help tearing up.
“What?” Dee dropped the dress on the bed. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No. I have something in my eye.” I ducked my head down quickly so she couldn’t see my face.
My PAV rang—Wei. “Can you come up? We need a quick run-through with everyone.”
“Be right there.” I clicked off. “I’m going upstairs for a few.” I left Dee with the box of memories.
***
Up in Wei’s room, the Sisterhood was present via PAV projection.
“Paulette, you and Mag will provide distraction in the main lobby, if needed,” Wei said.
They both nodded.
“Brie and I will land at three minutes to four. That gives Nina and Joan exactly enough time to get to the helipad. Nina, be sure to unlock the door, so if anything happens, we can get inside and leave some other way. The veljet is untraceable. It’s expensive, but better it should get impounded than any of us get caught.”
“Everything will go perfectly,” I said. “And you and Joan will end up in Japan. And Brie leaves with me as my visitor.”
“That is the plan.” She smiled at me. “See everyone tomorrow.”
“You didn’t tell them what’s really happening?” I said after she shut down the projection.
“Dorrie’s the only one besides you who knows. She’ll tell Brie right before they leave to go to the Institute.”
“This is going to work, right?” I tried to keep my voice steady, but it shook slightly.
“Mom says Dad has everything in place at B.O.S.S. to get your grandfather out. We’ll all be watching the sun rise from the mouth of the Hoke no Domon on Hokkaido. Mom says Aunt Hiroko will be able to help Pops and Joan, too. She’s a healer.”
“I can’t believe your family is doing this for me.”
“You’re part of our family, too.” She put her arm around my shoulder. “I wish we could take Dee and Gran, too. But Mom says they’ll be safe, and we’ll get them out eventually.”
I was trying not to think about leaving Dee behind—even for a little while. How would she cope without me? I thought back to Dee twirling around holding Ginnie’s dress to her. How strong she was—even now, at eleven, she was stronger than I’d ever felt. More aptly, how would I deal without her?
“Maybe the GC will get taken down,” I said, knowing as the words came out of my mouth that it was just an idealistic hope. “The truth about FeLS and the lies that Lessig is spreading have to be exposed at some point.”
“I sure hope so.” Wei ran her hand across her bedspread. “Then we could come home. You know, this is the only home I’ve ever known.”
I couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy I felt. I’d lived in four different places in sixteen years. And none of them was home anymore. Even the people who made them home weren’t there.
“Have you heard from Sal?” she asked. “I know you can’t tell him what’s happening, but I had hoped he’d call you.”
“Nope. Nothing.” I shrugged. Sal. That was the worst of all. I hadn’t heard from him in days. And the way I’d left things . . . “Maybe we were just fooling ourselves about how we felt.”
“Not Sal,” she said. “He might be mad at you, but he would never stop loving you.”
But what about me? I thought. Would I stop loving him? Had I already? Sal still meant so much to me. Surely I couldn’t feel so connected to Chris if I was still in love with Sal. And how could I have let anything happen with Chris if I’d loved Sal the way I thought I did? Or maybe Sal was just the first guy to make me feel that way—to make me realize that I could fall in love. That I even wanted to fall in love. “What about Chris?” I asked. “Has he decided what he’s doing?”
“He didn’t tell Mom,” Wei said. “And he hasn’t talked to me at all. Most likely we won’t know where he’s landed until it’s all said and done.”
It suddenly hit me how monumental were the sacrifices the Jenkinses were making to save me. Sure, Mrs. Jenkins had pointed out that if Lessig was suspicious of Mr. Jenkins’s loyalty to Media, then it was only a matter of time before they’d need to disappear. But to see them uproot themselves entirely, leaving this ultra home and everything they had, everything they’d worked
for. Possibly never seeing their daughter, Angie, again. And possibly not even Chris.
Chris. My breath caught. I knew there was a chance I’d never see Sal again. But I hadn’t realized Chris, too. How would I deal with that possibility of never seeing either of them again?
***
During dinner, Dee had to reassure me at least twice that no one had harassed her in school over the Alert about Ginnie. “No one under sixteen even thinks about Alerts,” she said. “How about you?”
“Some kids looked at me funny,” I said. “Mostly, they couldn’t care less. I’m just a tier-two nobody.”
“You’re not a nobody.” Dee pursed her lips. “Miss Maldovar says we should cultivate our sense of self-worth.”
“I’ll get right on that.”
“You know what I mean,” Dee said. “By the way, Chris is picking me up after school. We’re going to a place that sells all kinds of culinary supplies.”
“Culinary? You are serious about this, aren’t you?” I was so proud of her.
“Yes, I am. Chris and I were talking, and I’m going to get my Creative in Culinary Arts.”
“I’m sure you will.” I smiled to cover the rush of sadness that I would probably not be around to see that. “And you’ll probably end up a chef in a top-tier restaurant, making a fortune in credits. Will you take care of me?”
“Of course, silly. We’re family.”
My heart nearly broke to hear that, and I had to excuse myself from the table before I burst into tears in front of her.
* * *
Later that night, I started laying out what I’d need. I had already decided what I’d take with me. The animated digi Dee’d given me for Holiday; Pops’s ginger tin; and a digi of Ginnie, Dee, and me. I placed them in my bag, along with my rapidos, my sketch pad, the originals of my bought-out FeLS contract and my Creative designation, and a copy of the court decision about Dee. I laid out my clothes for the morning. The clothes Miss Maldovar had given me were of better quality than anything else I had, so I’d chosen them. Closing my eyes, I smoothed the sweater’s ultra softness against my cheek. Maybe someday I’d have more nice things. But for now, these would have to do.
I went out to the kitchen to sneak a few energy bars and some food pills—just in case. I stopped by Dee’s room to say good night. She was in bed, reading a real book.
“Whatcha got there?”
She handed it to me. Keena, the First Fem.
“A history of the founder of the Fems? Since when are you so interested in history? First the Greater United Isles on FAV, and now this?”
“Mom used to tell me stories about Keena when I was little. After that show, I was wondering about Fems. I asked Mrs. Jenkins, and she said I might want to read this.”
“I don’t remember Mom ever talking about the Fems.”
“When you were in school, Mom and I would play ‘what if.’ Like what if Keena was still alive? Wouldn’t it be great to be strong and powerful? Keena is the one who started the Cliste Galad martial arts. That’s what Wei does, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” I thumbed through the book until I found the chapter Dee was talking about and read aloud: “‘Keena created Cliste Galad—a combination of Scottish warrior traditions and ancient Far Eastern mysticism and martial arts—as a defense against the opposing forces in the Oil Wars.’”
“It worked,” Dee said. “Fems defeated enough of their enemies to bring about the End-of-Wars Treaty and take over power.” She flounced back on her pillow. “Then they lost it. All because of stupid guys.”
“Guys aren’t stupid.” I thought about Sal and Chris, and every other Sisterhood girl’s male friends and relatives who thought they should be protected. That wasn’t stupid. Misdirected concern—yes. But it wasn’t stupid to worry about the people you loved.
“You could be right,” Dee said. “Maybe it’s women who are stupid. We believed what the media said about how it was more important to be safe and have a man than anything else.”
“Women aren’t stupid either. Maybe people aren’t so sure about right and wrong. Although, what’s going on right now is definitely wrong.” I tucked the covers around her shoulders. “We aren’t going to figure it out tonight, though. Lights out.”
I padded on to the kitchen, thinking how I might never be the person to help Dee figure out life. She’d have to learn it like me—the hard way. I didn’t like that. Not at all. But maybe, just maybe, she would be a top-tier chef and her life would be easier. I had to find some bright side to look at, or I’d be lost in the dark forever.
XL
Derek, Mike, and I were in our usual booth at Mickey’s having lunch. Just like a normal day. Normal. That was how it had to look. Perfectly normal.
“So Nina, you coming to Soma with Wei this Friday?” Derek asked.
“Yeah, it’ll be fun. You’re coming, too, Mike?”
He nodded, his mouth full of fries.
“Hey, have you heard from Sal? Our homeroom teacher said she thought he’d transferred schools. Do you know anything about that?”
I nearly choked on my Sparkle. “I hadn’t heard that. I thought he was just, you know . . . away.”
“Yeah, me, too. But she said that Mrs. Marchant told her he was gone. Did you . . .”
I knew he wanted to ask if I had known. And I hadn’t. He’d left. The last thing I wanted was to leave Derek and Mike this way, but I couldn’t sit there anymore not knowing what had happened to Sal. I snarfed down the remainder of my lunch. “I’ve got to check on something,” I said. I hurried back to school to find Mrs. Marchant.
***
I hadn’t seen Mrs. Marchant since the writ hearing. She looked up when the secretary let me into her office. “Miss Oberon. To what do I owe this pleasure? Most students come here only because of infractions.”
“Mrs. Marchant, it’s about Sal Davis,” I said. “Is it true that he transferred?”
She scrutinized me before saying, “He’s your boyfriend, correct?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And he’s told you nothing?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Then I’m afraid I can’t either. School policy aside, Miss Oberon, if Sal wanted you to know what he was doing, I’m sure he would have told you before he left.”
That was not the reply I’d expected, not from Mrs. Marchant. “I guess . . . I mean, I know you’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”
“No problem. I’m always happy to have students visit.”
“Thank you.”
I had the doorknob in hand and was struggling to keep my tears at bay when she said, “Often people don’t divulge their plans in order to keep others safe. Don’t you agree?”
My heart leaped. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Carry on, Miss Oberon.”
Closing the door behind me, I let out a sigh of relief. At least he was still alive. I hadn’t even realized how scared I was for him until just now. I’d barely admitted to myself the possibility that he could be hurt or killed on one of his missions.
***
The closer it got to my last class, the more worried I became about Fassbinder. He’d said he would meet me after school. Did that mean he’d be outside waiting? Was he going to call? Would he show up at the house? I fretted the entire fifty minutes of Language and Lit.
Miss Gray motioned to me as the bell rang. I was torn between being the good obedient student and getting outside. I bolted, leaving her standing there, shocked at my behavior. At least I wouldn’t have to explain tomorrow.
When I got outside, Wei was waiting. And so was Fassbinder.
She gave me a thumbs-up and slipped around the side of the building, off to set her end of the plan in motion. I took a breath and then marched down the steps to Fassbinder and his waiting trannie.
The driver opened the door, and I slid onto the backseat. Fassbinder sat next to me, practically hidden in the shadows.
“Well?” he asked.
�
��It’s all here.” I held out an envelope. “What about my grandfather?”
He opened the envelope and perused the contents. “Assuming this is what Mr. Lessig wants, you’ll be hearing from him,” he said. “You’re going to work at the Art Institute now?”
“Yes, and I’ll be late if I don’t hurry. May I go?”
“Mr. Lessig insisted that I be cordial to you. A task I hardly relish. However, since I’m meeting Mr. Lessig at the Palmer, I am going in your direction. Would you care for a ride?”
“No.” I let myself out of the trannie and took off to the transit stop. I couldn’t be late to pick up Joan.
***
Two transfers later, I was in front of my old apartment building. Rushing down to the riverfront, I saw Joan waiting, alone. We huddled in an alley, and she changed into Ginnie’s clothes. “How’d you get rid of your friends?” I asked.
“I told them I was turning myself in. Svette wanted to take me down there herself and get the money. But one of the others knocked her out and told me to run. Said she wouldn’t be a part of taking money for my life.” She turned her sad eyes to me. “Tell me it’s going to be all right, Nina. I’m so scared.”
I squeezed her hands tightly. “You will be fine. No one will hurt you ever again. Now”—I helped her up—“let’s go do this.”
When we got to the Institute, I ran my handsert through the employee entry gate while Joan exchanged the token for a visitor’s pass. That hurdle crossed, we made our way to the elports. Tuesday was Free Day, and the lobby was jammed with people. I hoped that would work in our favor. Spotting Paulette and Mag, I gave a quick jerk of my head to them. Mag winked in acknowledgment, then pulled Paulette back into the crowd.
Joan and I got into the elport and took it to the floor where I worked with Martin. It was twenty to four.
I led Joan to the storeroom. “You stay right here. I’ll be back in six minutes.”
I hurried through the tunnels to the roof. Three minutes there. Unlock the door. Three minutes back.
When I stepped into the storeroom again, I could see that leaving Joan alone in an enclosed room had not been a good idea. She was pacing, rubbing the back of her neck with her hands.