Robin Wasserman - Torn

“And I told you, I’m not paying you to think .”

“Did your mother learn her gangster talk from watching the vids?” Jude whispered.

She cleared her throat, pointedly.

“What the hell is going on, Mom?”

“There’s something wrong about this whole situation, and that corp-town wasn’t safe for you,” she said.

“I’ve tried to assure your mother that her fears are misplaced,” Ben said. “But she won’t believe me.”

“The question isn’t whether I believe him,” my mother said, as if he weren’t there. So at least one thing hadn’t changed: She was still treating the help like dirt. “Living with your father, I’ve become quite skilled at knowing when people are lying. Your friend Ben here isn’t—he’s just ignorant. M. Poulet, on the other hand, is like your father. Nothing but lies, all the way down. And whatever’s going on there, I don’t want you to be a part of it.”

What about Zo? I almost said, but stopped myself. Because either she didn’t know Zo was there—in which case I wasn’t about to enlighten her—or she did know, and didn’t care. In which case she’d learned more from my father than the ability to spot a liar.

“Who are you?” I asked instead. “And what have you done with my mother?”

“I know what you think of me,” she said. “I played the part I had to play. I did my job. But think about it: Your father may treat me like a fool, but does he really seem the type to marry one?”

“Nobody’s saying you’re a… fool.” Not out loud, at least. Had I been imagining it? Had she been like this the whole time, and I hadn’t noticed? Or had she, for whatever perverse reason, spent the last seventeen years in hiding? “If you’re so good at seeing through bullshit, then I guess that means you knew all along? What he did? What BioMax ‘made’ him do?”

All the air went out of her. “No.”

“And when you found out, you didn’t see the need to do anything.”

“I stayed,” she said.

“Fucking right. You stayed.”

“Watch your language,” she said. “Yes, I stayed. That’s what I did. If he was capable of… what he did—”

“Murder his daughter,” I said loudly. “That’s what he did.”

“If he’s capable of that, he’s capable of anything.”

“You were watching him,” Jude guessed. “ Guarding him.”

“Someone had to. Make sure he stayed in line. Make sure he stayed miserable.”

“Even if it meant you were miserable too,” Jude said.

“No more than she—” I stopped myself.

“Deserves?” my mother suggested.

Ben cleared his throat. “Give your mother a break.”

“Shut up, Ben.” The response came in chorus, my mother and me in sync.

“It doesn’t matter why I stayed,” my mother said. “I did. Which is how I knew it was time to help you.”

“I’ve tried to explain to your mother that she’s overreacting,” Ben said.

“Nothing unusual about that,” I agreed, fingering the vial of Amperin adhered to my upper arm. “Now that you’ve done your motherly duty, any chance you could drop us back where you found us?”

“You see, M. Kahn,” Ben said, “they’re perfectly happy to—”

“They’re children ,” my mother snapped. “What makes them happy isn’t really my concern.”

“With all due respect, M. Kahn, I’m not your kid,” Jude said. “If you want me to contact my parents, I’m sure they’d be happy to take me off your hands.”

She laughed. “So I see you’ve told all your friends about your idiot mother, Lia.” She twisted around in her seat to get a better look at him. “You think I don’t know about you? That you came from nothing ? That you have no parents? You think I didn’t learn everything I could about the person who stole my daughter right out from under me?”

“Jude didn’t steal me. I’m not some thing that belongs to you, like your stupid Chindian tea set.”

“You’ll be safe at home,” my mother said. “Both of you.”

“It won’t be for long,” Ben said. “I’m taking a tech crew out to one of the server ships on Sunday. They’re pretty sure they can cut off the virus at the root, restore the server integrity, and then all this will be behind us.”

“Always the optimist. You must—” I stopped, mouth open, the rest of the thought vanishing as his words registered, and everything clicked into place.

Sunday. As in the day that phase three would be put into action.

Because if it doesn’t happen now, we’ll have to wait another month.

For security reasons they sent launches to the server farms only once a month. It was the best way to minimize and control access. Everyone knew that.

“I must what?” Ben prodded, when I didn’t continue.

But I shook my head, gears turning. Sunday. So we had three days. Three days to figure out what they were planning to do at that server farm—and stop them.

“Forget it,” I said. “You’re in charge, right? We’re just children. Do whatever you have to do.”

“I will,” my mother said.

So would I.

The van pulled up to the estate. Jude had never seen it before. But I could tell, from the way he looked at me, that he’d just had all his suspicions confirmed. I was exactly the person he’d always thought I was: the poor little rich girl, doing what Mommy told her to do because it was easier than fighting back. He didn’t say a word to me, or to any of us, as the guard escorted him into the house. Ben caught hold of me before my guard and I could follow.

“I know you hate me,” he said quietly, keeping his eyes on my mother and his voice low enough to ensure she wouldn’t hear.

“I don’t have any feelings toward you one way or another. You’re irrelevant.”

“I wasn’t part of what the corp did to you,” Ben said. “I didn’t even know about it at first.”

“Even if I believed you, it doesn’t matter. And I don’t believe you.”

“We’ve done good things.” Ben sounded desperate. “This technology is a miracle. It can change everything. Artificial intelligence. Space exploration. Medical miracles. We’ve only just begun to imagine the possibilities. It can save us all, like it saved you.”

I almost bought it. Could he actually be this naive? Maybe. Did it matter?

Not at all.

“Let me prove it to you,” he said.

“Prove what?”

“That I’m trying to help. Some of us— most of us—mean well, Lia. We’ve always been on your side.” He handed me a folded-up printout. “When the time is right, this is where you’ll find him.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll see.”

Curiosity overpowering judgment, I started to unfold the paper, but he stopped my hands. “Wait until you’re inside,” he said, glancing again at my mother. “You might want to keep this one to yourself.”

“Lia.” My mother pointed to the front door. The guard stood at the ready.

“Maybe don’t be so hard on her,” Ben said.

“Seriously? You want to give me advice on being a good daughter now?”

“You don’t have kids,” he said. “If you did…”

There was nothing I hated more than the familiar you haven’t been there, so you can’t really understand crap. Which I was about to point out to him, when I noticed how distant he looked, and wondered if he was thinking of his own kid, the girl about Zo’s age, who, I gathered, hated him about as much as I did.

I decided to let it pass.

“Can I go now?”

“Right. Of course.” Ben put out his hand for me to shake, then dropped it after a few seconds when I didn’t move. “I’m sorry,” he said.