First day back to school after Holiday, and Mr. Haldewick gave us a pop quiz. I glanced over at Wei, who was doodling with her rapido, already done with the test. Up the aisle, Mr. H scrutinized the class, most of whom were bent over their desks, writing furiously. Like Wei, I was finished, and… my life as I knew it was about to be finished. The meeting the night before hadn’t gone like I thought it would. There were things I had to do that I wasn’t sure I could do. But Lessig had given me no choice. And lives were at stake.
Then there was the whole Chris thing. How could I have kissed him like that? I’d gotten so lost in his kisses that I hadn’t wanted to find my way out. The thought of his lips on mine made my cheeks burn and my insides tingle.
Sal wasn’t in school at all today. And I hadn’t heard from him in days. I fingered the half heart dangling from my necklace. We were in love. Weren’t we? I mean, I loved him. Didn’t I? Whether or not he loved me, I wasn’t sure anymore. I didn’t love that he thought I needed protecting. I did love how it felt when he held me. I didn’t love that he was gone all the time. I had no idea what we were anymore.
I wondered if that’s how Ginnie had felt when my dad “disappeared.” She’d had to go through years of having the world believe he was dead. Seeing him only at clandestine meetings in the park, when he could get away from whatever Resistance work he was doing. Then, when she got pregnant with Dee, she’d had to… Ugh, Ed. That was the beginning of Ed. And then my dad was out of her life forever.
Was that what I wanted? A boyfriend who came and went like a specter—someone who was never there when I needed him but who made me feel like he was everything when we were together?
I remembered, when I was little, crawling into bed with Mom because of some scary dream. As I was drifting back to sleep, I felt her sobbing.
“Mommy, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, sweetie pie.” She stroked my hair. “Go back to sleep. I’m here. Everything is all right.”
Except everything had not been all right. My dad should have been there with her. To comfort her. To help. Could he have been? Should he have been? I’d never know. Maybe sometime I could ask him, but even he wouldn’t have the answers for what had gone on in Mom’s head and, more importantly, in her heart.
Matters of the heart were a whole lot harder to know.
An insistent tapping disturbed my concentration. Cutting my eyes down to the left, I saw Mr. Haldewick’s pointer rat-a-tat-tatting on the floor beside me. Then following it upward, I ended at his face, which was contorted into a frown.
“Are you going to submit your test answers or sit there wool-gathering for the remainder of the period, Miss Oberon?”
“Submitting now.” I pressed the holographic Send button hovering in the lower-right-hand corner of my desk.
“Thank you.” He pursed his lips and moved on to his next victim.
“You okay, Neens?” Mike shoveled a handful of fries in his mouth. “You seem kinda spacey.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Even though Mike was one of my closest friends, I couldn’t tell him what I was really thinking. “It’s just, you know. Everyone’s avoiding me, or staring at me. They probably all believe that broadcast.” Unrelenting melancholy hung over me like those rain clouds in cartoons.
“Well, we don’t,” he said. “And we’re the only people who count. Right, Der?”
“Yep,” Derek said. “I think you need some F-U-N. Riley and I are playing Saturday. Wei’s coming.” He glanced over at her. “Right?”
She smiled up at him, her fabulous, warm smile. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
I was afraid she would.
“Hey,” Derek said. “Did you catch that great vid interruption? I nearly missed it, but Riley called and said that these ultra drawings were being accompanied by some amazing ancient spirituals. It was über-ultra! I’ve never seen anything like it.”
I grabbed a fry and allowed myself a brief moment of pride. It would pass soon enough.
After school I headed straight to the Institute. Even though I knew he had an event later on, I had my fingers crossed that Martin would still be in his office. As luck would have it, he was.
After our conversation, I asked, “Will I need anything special to get my friend in?”
Martin handed me a token. “Give this to the guard. It’s a building pass. You won’t have any problem getting her in. As far as the rest, I’ve got it covered, don’t you know?” His hand lingered on mine. “Nina, you’re sure this is the right thing?”
“It’s the only thing,” I said. “I’m sure.”
“I hate to leave you,” he said. “But there’s an estate acquisition I have to oversee.”
“I understand.” I rose up onto my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I’ll miss you.”
He drew his lips into a strained smile. His eyes misted over. “It’s been my pleasure, my dear. Unequivocally.”
I spent half an hour cataloging the loan of several late-fifteenth-, early-sixteenth-century paintings by Hieronymus Bosch. His triptych of The Garden of Earthly Delights—the Hell side—seemed particularly suited to my situation. Like those poor, tortured souls, I had no way out.
I left work at four-thirty. The trans ride took forever, and I was terrified that I’d get home and Fassbinder would’ve come and gone and Pops would be killed. But I got off the trans with a good hour to spare.
Chris was still at work, Mr. Jenkins, too. Mrs. Jenkins, Wei, and Dee had left me a note that they’d gone to visit Gran. Gran. What would she think of me? I might never know.
I knelt on the sofa, looking out the window, waiting for Angelo Fassbinder to drive up. He was prompt. Three minutes to six. Just enough time to gloat before I gave him my answer.
I was at the door before he could knock. “Come in,” I said.
“All alone, are we?” He nodded up the stairs.
“Yes.”
“Good. No reason to get comfortable, Miss Oberon. A simple yes or no will suffice.” He held his wrist out, taking stock of his chronos. “Mr. Lessig is waiting for my call. And your answer is?”
I took a deep breath. The entire conversation with Mrs. Jenkins flashed through my brain. “Yes,” I said. “I’ll do it.”
“Hmmm.” He sized me up. “Mr. Lessig demands proof of loyalty. Tomorrow afternoon. Receipts from Mr. Jenkins’s trip to the Southern Protectorates shouldn’t be difficult to find. I hear he’s quite anal about keeping things. Oh, and Mr. Lessig will want you to confirm what you know about the blocking devices that are in use in this building. A schematic would be good. After school. I’ll be waiting.”
As soon as he was out the door, I snuck into Mr. Jenkins’s office. The receipts were easy to find. The schematic for the house? No way.
I called Dorrie. “Can you have me something by three?”
“I’ll send it to your PAV.”
Twenty-four more hours.
XXXIX
“What are you doing?”
I lifted my head to see Dee standing in the doorway. “Looking for some clothes to give to a friend. She, uh…” I couldn’t tell Dee the truth. Not now. She couldn’t know about Joan, about any of what I was planning. “There was a fire. She doesn’t have anything. She’s about Ginnie’s size.”
“Oh, that’s nice of you. Are you going to see her tonight?”
“No.” I selected a pair of Ginnie’s jeans and a sweater that wasn’t too expired. Dee and I had already pulled out anything that was important for us. I felt bad lying to Dee about Joan. But I felt worse being so enveloped in the smell of my mom. And knowing that after tonight, I’d never smell it again. Ever. I was using one of her scarves, but it smelled more like me now. Don’t think about that; focus on the task at hand, I told myself. “How’s Gran?” Another never again. “Did you tell her I love her?”