Julia Karr - Truth

I glanced over at Dee. “They can’t just take her away, can they?”

“It is a possibility,” Mrs. Jenkins said.

A few days ago, I would never have believed Dee’s calm reaction. “Will I be allowed to come and get my things? Where will they take me?”

If Mrs. Jenkins was as surprised at my little sister’s composure as I was, she didn’t let on. “I truly doubt it will come to that, Dee. There are a good many points on our side. Aside from your living here now, Nina’s sixteen and has a job. Her Creative designation is another boon, since they like to see ambition and the promise of moving up in tiers. There is also the fact that your mother specifically, legally designated the Oberons as your guardians; that cannot be discounted without a fight.”

“I hope so,” Dee said. “But if they do remove me, will you still try to get me back?” She looked at me.

“Of course, Dee! You’re my sister.”

“Good. Excuse me, please, I have some things I need to do.”

After she left, I said, “If it were me, I don’t think I’d be even half as cool as Dee is. I should make plans to get Dee out of town. My father, well, he’s her father, too, could take her into hiding with him. Then she’d be safe.”

“No.” Mrs. Jenkins shook her head. “That’s been discussed at length. If she disappeared while under threat of a writ, B.O.S.S. would search for her. Even though Ed is her presumed father, she bears the Oberon name. That alone would make the authorities suspicious. And they would most certainly seize and interrogate you. It is best that we go to court and hope that things go in our direction. You should see if Dr. Silverman will give you a statement indicating that your grandmother is recovering and will eventually be able to care for Dee. The court will already have information on your grandfather. But that cannot be helped.”

I said. “What if—”

“Nina, do not torment yourself over imagined disasters. Instead, imagine the future the way you want it to be. It is always better to visualize good rather than evil.”

“I can’t just think my way out of this.”

“No, but you can be aware of what could be and look to what you want things to be.” She laid her hand on mine. “As we think, so we are.” She brushed my hair back, looking into my eyes. “Now. Tell me about this Miss Maldovar. How does she know what’s going on?”

“Dee’s original teacher was in an accident of some sort, and Miss Maldovar took over. She made Dee her assistant, and Dee ended up telling her all about the writ. I’ve only seen her once.”

“Your impression?”

“Well, I never actually met her, officially. We ran into her at Rosie’s. I have to say, there’s something about her that seems off. She gives me the creeps.”

“Trust your intuition. But for now, having her at the hearing to tell how Dee is doing in school may be very helpful. Very helpful.”

It was nice not having to worry about school for a while. And I was able to pick up more hours at the Institute. I took a detour on my way to work, hoping to see Joan. But there was no sign of anyone, except a few early shoppers heading from the apartments up to Michigan Avenue. When I got to work, Martin was waiting for me. “My nod to the season, don’t you know?” he said, handing me a steaming cup of hot cocoa with a peppermint-stick stirrer poking out the top.

That one small gesture reminded me of Holidays with Ginnie. Hot cocoa was a tradition. I felt like laughing and crying all at once. But what I did was thank him, and then I took myself and my cup to the storeroom. Perched on the edge of my chair, I verified artwork against catalog numbers and descriptions. It wasn’t the most fun in the galaxy, but I loved the feeling of being in the midst of all this amazing artwork. And I was learning lots about how artists like to describe their work. Some were so esoteric—on purpose, or so it seemed—and it only made them sound snobby and affected to me. Like ultrafamous, university-taught Lars Estagean, whose artist statement was so out there that it was totally incomprehensible to me. While Stefan B, a recently discovered “street artist,” came across as honest and unassuming. His simple statement, “It feels phenomenal to be able to take what I see and turn my feelings about it into a truthful portrayal of what’s there,” was exactly how I felt about my own artwork; it was nothing fancy, but it was honest.

I hadn’t been working all that long when Martin and Percy came in. I’d never actually met Percy face-to-face, only on vid calls.

“Pers, allow me to present the fabulous Miss Nina Oberon. Isn’t she even lovelier in person?” Martin gushed.

Percy shook my hand. “Beautiful, Marty. Absolutely beautiful. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Your mother was absolute perfection.”

My cheeks blushed hot. “Thank you.” I hadn’t realized they’d known Ginnie, too.

“You are coming to the party, aren’t you?” He didn’t miss my puzzlement. “She is coming, isn’t she?” His gaze bounced over to Martin, then back to me. “You have to come, you know.” To Martin, “She simply has to.”

“What party?” I asked.

“The New Year’s bash at the Golds,” Percy said. “Everyone in the universe will be there. Which means, you must be there, because the universe has to meet you.”

“Gold, like Paulette Gold?” My eyebrows shot up.

“That’s the daughter. Right, Marty?” Percy continued talking, wiping out any response Martin might have made. “She’s a bit of a swagger, but not a bad girl. You know her? Of course you do, or you wouldn’t have asked.”

“Percy.” Martin grasped his arm. “We’ll take Nina to the party. For now, I merely wanted to introduce you in person and to tell Nina that she could go home.” He smiled at me. “No more work until after Holiday. Oh.” He dug into his pocket. “Here’s a free hire-trannie ticket. Go home in style.” He hugged me. “I hope your grandmother is feeling better, and here’s hoping for good news about your grandfather. Happy Holiday, Nina.”

“Yes, dear.” Percy hugged me, too. “Happy Holiday. Lord knows you deserve one.” He gave me a little peck on the cheek.

The scent of spicy aftershave lingered long after the door closed. I stared at the ticket. I’d been in a hire trannie only once, and then only as an escape. This time, however, I wouldn’t be running away from Ed. I’ll pretend I’m upper tier, I thought. It will be fun, even if only for a few minutes.

Stuck in traffic, I stared out the window at all the Holiday lights on Galaxy Mile, the part of Michigan Avenue that had all the ultrachic, top-tier shops. Holiday verts were coming fast and furious, competing for shoppers’ attention.

“Her eyes will light up as bright as the diamonds in this Urban-Retro, twenty-carat-gold mail necklace.” “Give your Holiday Pre a glimpse into the ultra world of XVI with a XVI Ways Day Spa gift certificate.” “Surprise Dad this Holiday with an all-weather Verolux chronos.”

We were sitting in front of Mars 9, the ultra shop for teens. Their display scene was a party. I clicked my PAV to tune out the verts and pressed my nose to the glass. A girl mannibot drifted through the crowd in a scintillating, strapless gown. The scene was enthralling. A longing to look that nice, just once, seared through me, leaving behind a burning hole in my chest.

I would never be that girl.

I shut my eyes and didn’t open them until I felt the vehicle lurch forward. Paulette’s upper-tier party. My Sale-o-rama life. There was no way I could ever go to that party, no matter what Martin and Percy said.