Julia Karr - Truth

Chris’s voice brought me back to the planet. “Making resolutions?”

“Nuh-uh. I’m exhausted.”

“I should go. You want me to carry Dee to her room?”

“No. Let her sleep. I’ll get a blanket for her. And thanks for spending the evening with her.”

“Are you kidding? She kept me from feeling sorry for myself. No date for New Year’s Eve. What a loser I am.”

I smiled. “You might be a lot of things, but you are definitely not a loser.”

“Neither are you.” He put his arm around me and kissed my cheek. “Happy New Year, Nina. You deserve it.”

One glance in the mirror brought back the whole night’s events. I carefully removed the Kanzashi sticks from my hair and shook it out. There. That was more like me. My fingertips brushed the embroidered crane as I slipped off the dress. It was so beautiful. And I’d felt beautiful in it—even if for just a few hours. I wished Sal had seen me. Without warning, Chris’s compliment rang in my ears, and I remembered his lips on mine. My cheeks burned again. Crazy.

I needed sleep.

That was the cure for crazy.

Sleep turned out to be a cure for nothing. My shame at Paulette’s throwing me out and my confusion at Chris’s kiss were as strong as they’d been the night before.

While I waited for Dee to get ready for our visit with Gran, I called Sal. My hands trembled. One beep… two… three… voice pickup. I really, really needed to talk to him, to hear his voice, to be sure that we could work things out. Why’d I let myself get so mad at him?

Because he doesn’t think you’re capable , the voice in my head replied.

The whole conversation with Sal played through my brain, again. Followed by the same resultant anger and frustration. I sighed. The Sisterhood would have to show him, and all the NonCons, that girls are able to hold their own and to contribute to the Resistance beyond gathering intelligence and providing technical know-how.

“Dr. Silverman says February first.” Gran huffed. “I told him I was fine, but he won’t budge. Says he needs time to assess my recovery. ‘Assess what?’ I asked. I’m an old woman. I’m still breathing. And I feel better than I did when I was seventy. He only wants more time to show off his handiwork. He’s had his colleagues tromping in and out, practically nonstop, since I got here. I’m starting to feel like a sideshow freak. Oh, well…” She sighed. “Any more news about your grandfather? They won’t tell me anything here. Mustn’t upset the patient, you know.”

I told her about meeting Kasimir Lessig at Paulette’s party. I wasn’t sure whether or not to mention his offer of help. If it turned out not to be true, I didn’t want to cause Gran more stress. But I saw the desperate look in her eyes, and thought of Pops.

“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.