Julia Karr - Truth

“I hate that he was my father.” She fiddled with the ridges of my comforter.

It was so hard not to tell her the truth. But it was for her own safety. I pulled up the corner, inviting her to snuggle in with me. “Things will work out. You’ll see.”

“Everyone at school will know about it, won’t they?”

“Probably.” I hugged her.

She shrugged free. “Miss Maldovar said that she’d tell them not to believe everything they heard, and that I’m to tell her if someone picks on me. I can stand up for myself, though. I’ll tell them the truth, that Mom never did anything like that.” Fire flashed in her eyes. “If they don’t believe me, then—”

“Deeds. No fighting.”

She clenched her jaw.

“I mean it.”

“Oh… all right.” She snorted. “But I’ll want to.”

“I know you will. But there are things worth fighting for, and things not worth fighting about. This is not worth fighting about.”

“But she’s our mom.”

“And she wouldn’t want you scrapping in the playground like a puppy. You know the truth, that’s good enough. And the truth will come out. I promise you. It will.”

Later on, Dee settled down to watch some vids. I hoped they would take her mind off of the Alert mess. I headed to the cook center to put together more food to take to the homeless.

I wanted to take soup to the women, but there was no good way to pack it. They’d have to settle for nut butter-and-jelly sandwiches. It was better than nothing.

“What’s that?” Dee looked up from a vid she was watching.

“Stuff,” I said. “I’m taking this to some friends.”

Fortunately, she was too engrossed in the FAV to ask any other questions. “What are you watching?” I asked.

“Some history show about the Greater United Isles. It sounds like the coolest place. Hardly anyone lives there anymore. Except in London and Edinburgh. Wouldn’t it be weird to be somewhere where there are no other people? No verts. No nothing.”

“Sounds like heaven,” I said. I couldn’t imagine what that would be like.

My PAV beeped—it was Brie.

“You doing okay? I wanted to let you know that no one believes that stupid Alert about your mother,” she said.

“Thanks. I’m fine.” I didn’t let on that I’d been worrying about how the Sisterhood felt about me.

“Cool. Anyway, I have good news. The game is on for Tuesday. My uncle asked me to make a delivery. Dorrie’ll get everything programmed. Wei needs to target the exact time when we can move the goods.”

“You sound like Notishca Lamb.” I giggled, amazed that I could find humor in any part of my life.

“Oh, I love, love Spy from the Dark Side ,” she said. “I wish I’d lived back in those days!”

“So I guess that means you’re getting the veljet, and everything else is a go?”

“Yep. We are all set! We’ll talk later.”

No matter what happened at school on Monday, at least I had a few friends who cared and knew the truth. And who wanted to help.

On the way to the riverfront, I thought about the Greater United Isles. No verts. No GC. I didn’t know much more about them, other than that Scotland was where Cliste Galad had been invented.

They didn’t bother to teach us much about any of that in school, probably because the GC didn’t want us to know how different it could be. But I’d learned a lot more hanging out with Wei and Sal.

Sal. I still had no message from him. No call. And now I felt guilty because I’d nearly betrayed him with Chris. It was funny, the fact that we’d argued about whether or not girls were capable of fighting for themselves. Especially since the End-of-Wars Treaty never would have come about without the Fems. They’d taken power from the Corporations government in the Americas, years ago.

They never said as much in History, but even though it hadn’t been a bloodless coup, the Fems were more than fair to the conquered. They didn’t shuttle anyone off to a prison space station, or doom them to Mars and infection. They took the Corporation moguls out of power but otherwise left them alone. And that was their big mistake, since the moguls got together and revived Media.

Everyone knew Media wasn’t anything new. I mean, verts have been around for ages, in one form or another. They even taught us how most corporations worked through Media to spread their version of the truth—I guess never figuring we’d make the connection to the way the GC used Media.

But no, the GC was so much more evolved than that. Ha, yeah right. I glanced out the trans window—I was almost there. Which was a good thing, considering how my anger was rising just thinking about how we were taught that the printed ads and commercials of the twentieth century turned into verts in the twenty-first century, but no one ever questioned whether or not verts were good now.

And so when the Corporation moguls started using Media to undermine women, to sow the seeds of overthrowing the Fems, it worked. It worked so well, women ended up losing all the ground for which they’d fought for centuries.

And here I was. An all but powerless, sex-teen, standing by the riverfront trying to make a difference. But no. I wasn’t powerless. What had I been trying to tell Sal all this time? That girls were just as strong as everyone else.

I was pretty sure the remnants of true feminism were out there, somewhere. And I desperately wanted to find them.

I headed over to the buildings, where I figured I was most likely to find the group of homeless. They were huddled in an alley, trying to avoid the bitter wind.

It was hard for me to believe, but a couple of the homeless women complained that I’d brought only sandwiches. Drawing Joan aside, I told her, in guarded words, to be ready on Tuesday. I could feel her anxiety and tried to reassure her that when she was in Japan with Wei’s relatives, they’d help her get back to normal.

“I’ll bring more food in a couple of days,” I told Joan. “Hang in there.”

She and the rest of the homeless women disappeared, leaving the empty bags behind. I stuffed them in the trash and walked out of the alleyway. Two guys—they looked about twenty—were coming up from one of the river oases. As they passed me, I caught a whiff of alcohol. It reminded me of Ed, which was enough to make me hurry on by.

“You. Girl.”

I speeded up. Their footsteps grew closer, louder. They were following me.

“What’s your hurry, babe?” The voice was right behind me.

Nearly wrenching my arm from its socket, one of them spun me around, slurring, “I said… what’s your hurry?” Shoving up my sleeve, he uncovered the XVI. “She’s legal, Punch. Score one for the home team.” A smile spread across his face.

His friend sidled up next to me. The liquor smell so strong I nearly vomited.

“Let go.” I struggled to free my arm, but he wasn’t about to release me.

“You said ‘Let’s go’? I’m with you, babe.” He homed in on an opening between two buildings. “A little alley-cat love for us and our little sex-teen.”

Pressing his mouth onto mine, he rammed his tongue between my lips and his boozy slobber drenched my chin. As soon as he came up for air, his friend, Punch, yanked my head around and tried the same. He was so intoxicated, he missed my mouth completely, allowing me just enough time to scream.

“Nuh-uh, babe.” The first guy slapped his hand across my mouth. “Don’t want a whole crowd. Punch and me’s more than enough.”

I tried biting him, but his grip was too firm. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a hire transport. Struggling to get free, I kicked Punch, connecting with his shin.