Julia Karr - Truth

My PAV beeped. “Are you here, Nina? Percy’s going to pull a neck muscle looking for you.”

“I’m downstairs, Martin. I’ll be right up.” At least I knew he and Percy wanted me to be there. What Paulette’s reaction would be was anyone’s guess. “I’m ready,” I told the driver.

In a flash, he had the door opened, his hand extended to help me out. “Have a wonderful evening, miss.”

“Thank you.” I wondered if I should tip him, with my nonexistent tip cards, but he was back in the stretch and gone before that thought was fully formed. I was left with no choice but to go inside. The man at the door inspected me. Apparently, I passed his approval. “Name, please?”

“Nina Oberon.”

“First elport on the left, penthouse suite.”

“Thank you.” At least my voice was steady, even if I wasn’t.

Tucked into a corner of the elport with a mass of partygoers, I closed my eyes, wishing the night was already over.

Nothing could’ve prepared me for the spectacle on the other side of the elport doors. Sure, Wei was top tier, but her house was comfortable, real, a place where I felt easy. Granted, Paulette’s penthouse was decorated for a gala New Year’s Eve party, but even without the decorations, I would’ve felt like I’d stepped into a vid. Everything was sleek, shiny, and oozed ultrachic—just like Paulette.

Like sale shoppers at Mega World, the people in the elport pushed past me, melting into the other revelers. Before the doors closed, I stepped into the swarm. As I inched my way through the crowd searching for Martin and Percy, a familiar voice said, “You’re the last person I expected to see tonight.”

“Paulette.” I wasn’t sure what to expect. She’d been almost friendly the last couple of times I’d seen her. Tonight, however, she was anything but. Her icy scrutiny left me feeling for all the universe like a protozoa under a microscope.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

All the apprehension I’d felt about coming, and all the concerns about what a bunch of top-tiers would think of me, was pushed aside by her attitude. “I’m with Martin Long and Percy Bunton. And if you don’t mind, I’m looking for them right now.” I tried to push past her, but she snatched my arm.

“I saw your name as their guest, but I didn’t think you’d actually show. Nina, you should’ve told me you were coming,” she said. “Be careful. You are so out of your league.”

I wrenched out of her grasp. “That’s your opinion.” I stalked off, sure that my face was as red as the baubles Mrs. Jenkins had woven into my hair.

I’d turned down three drinks and a plate of hors d’oeuvres before I finally heard a welcome voice.

“Nina, over here.” I spotted Percy, waving frantically.

Somehow I managed to weave through the other partiers. “I didn’t think I’d ever find you. I am so relieved to see a friendly face. Where’s Martin?”

“Marty’s there—somewhere.” He swept his arm out across the expanse of people. “Oh, see?” He pointed with his drink. “Those are the Golds. Like an Adonis, isn’t he?”

I raised my eyebrow.

“Oh, all right, she is, too. And look at my Marty, working them for all the credits they’re worth. All for the Institute. Ever the fund-raiser.” He gazed admiringly at his partner, before setting his cocktail down and placing his hands on my shoulders. “Let’s have a look at you.” Twirling me around, he nodded appreciatively. “So retro-ultra-Asian. Jade did the hair, didn’t she?” He slapped his hand to his chest and looked skyward. “She is the hair goddess. And you, my dear, you are the god-dess.”

My neck warmed. “Can we not talk about me?”

“Oh, my sweet Nina. Everyone is already talking about you.” He leaned close. “Look at the way they’re sneaking peeks at you over their drinks or over their companions�� shoulders. You’re putting these ultrachic snobbitches to shame.” With a gesture, he summoned a waiter. “I’m sure you haven’t eaten a thing, have you?”

“I’m not hungry.” And I certainly wasn’t enjoying the thought of being the topic of everyone’s conversation. Percy was right: people were looking at me, and commenting—and creeping me out. “Maybe we should join Martin?”

“First, I want to introduce you to someone who’s been dying to meet you.” Percy secured my elbow and guided me through the masses.

I saw Paulette watching us. She’s probably thinking I’ll ruin her party. Percy threaded us through the crowd, and we ended up in front of a massive crystalline fireplace, where, surprisingly, there was lots of uninhabited space and two men, deep in conversation. I recognized one immediately: Kasimir Lessig.

Percy cleared his throat. “Kasimir? May I introduce Miss Nina Oberon?” he said.

“Miss Oberon.” Lessig took my hand. His was warm and his demeanor so charming it took me completely off guard. I’d expected the same fake persona that came through in Media broadcasts and Alerts. He gestured to the man he was talking with. “This is my assistant, Angelo Fassbinder.”

“Ah. The daughter of the late Alan Oberon. What a delight to make your acquaintance.” Fassbinder shook my hand, and I immediately wanted to pull it away.

Percy gave my arm a reassuring squeeze. “When Mr. Lessig found out you were coming, he asked particularly if I’d introduce you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, my dear. Your father and I knew each other,” Lessig said. “He was such a skillful, talented speaker. But I’m sure you know that.”

“I’ve never heard any of his speeches,” I lied carefully. “They’re contraband.” I certainly wasn’t going to tell the head of Media, possibly the most powerful man in the country, that I’d listened to illegal speeches.

“Oh, yes. That’s true, isn’t it?” He shook his head. “The Governing Council worries about the most ridiculous things. It doesn’t matter to me or Media. I’ll arrange for you to hear his most famous speech. Angelo?” He whispered in Fassbinder’s ear.

“Of course, sir. Miss Oberon.” Fassbinder noted whatever it was Lessig had said to him, then turned to leave. I can’t say that I was sorry to see him go. Something about him rubbed me the wrong way.

Lessig said, “My secretary will be in contact with you soon, my dear.” His eyes softened. “I was very sorry to learn of your mother’s recent demise. I had the pleasure of meeting her only once. At her wedding.”

“You were at my parents’ wedding?” His smooth way of talking bothered me—it was like watching a snake smiling at me, full of danger and slick charm. I had never imagined my parents were acquainted with him. Ginnie couldn’t stand to watch him on the PAV, but she’d never let on that she knew him.

“Oh, yes. Your father and I were old school friends. Well . . .” He shook his head and smiled. “To tell the truth, we were rivals. As good as I was in public speaking, I was no match for Alan Oberon. I suppose if he had lived, he’d have my job and I’d be doing local broadcasts in the middle of nowhere. He was, by far, the superior orator.”

I couldn’t do more than nod in amazement. His words were so friendly, could I possibly have been wrong about him? No, Ginnie and the Jenkinses didn’t trust him. I knew I shouldn’t either.

“I must say, Nina… May I call you Nina?” Lessig continued, assuming I’d consented, which… well, why would I refuse? “You are stunning. Not at all like most sixteens I’ve met, decked out in their ultra-chic. And, oh… a new tattoo?” He touched my wrist. “Well, you’re a Creative. I should’ve guessed.”

“Yes.” I didn’t like the feel of his hand on my tattoo—no wonder, since it proclaimed the truth.