“I don’t remember Mom ever talking about the Fems.”
“When you were in school, Mom and I would play ‘what if.’ Like what if Keena was still alive? Wouldn’t it be great to be strong and powerful? Keena is the one who started the Cliste Galad martial arts. That’s what Wei does, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” I thumbed through the book until I found the chapter Dee was talking about and read aloud: “‘Keena created Cliste Galad—a combination of Scottish warrior traditions and ancient Far Eastern mysticism and martial arts—as a defense against the opposing forces in the Oil Wars.’”
“It worked,” Dee said. “Fems defeated enough of their enemies to bring about the End-of-Wars Treaty and take over power.” She flounced back on her pillow. “Then they lost it. All because of stupid guys.”
“Guys aren’t stupid.” I thought about Sal and Chris, and every other Sisterhood girl’s male friends and relatives who thought they should be protected. That wasn’t stupid. Misdirected concern—yes. But it wasn’t stupid to worry about the people you loved.
“You could be right,” Dee said. “Maybe it’s women who are stupid. We believed what the media said about how it was more important to be safe and have a man than anything else.”
“Women aren’t stupid either. Maybe people aren’t so sure about right and wrong. Although, what’s going on right now is definitely wrong.” I tucked the covers around her shoulders. “We aren’t going to figure it out tonight, though. Lights out.”
I padded on to the kitchen, thinking how I might never be the person to help Dee figure out life. She’d have to learn it like me—the hard way. I didn’t like that. Not at all. But maybe, just maybe, she would be a top-tier chef and her life would be easier. I had to find some bright side to look at, or I’d be lost in the dark forever.
XL
Derek, Mike, and I were in our usual booth at Mickey’s having lunch. Just like a normal day. Normal. That was how it had to look. Perfectly normal.
“So Nina, you coming to Soma with Wei this Friday?” Derek asked.
“Yeah, it’ll be fun. You’re coming, too, Mike?”
He nodded, his mouth full of fries.
“Hey, have you heard from Sal? Our homeroom teacher said she thought he’d transferred schools. Do you know anything about that?”
I nearly choked on my Sparkle. “I hadn’t heard that. I thought he was just, you know… away.”
“Yeah, me, too. But she said that Mrs. Marchant told her he was gone. Did you…”
I knew he wanted to ask if I had known. And I hadn’t. He’d left. The last thing I wanted was to leave Derek and Mike this way, but I couldn’t sit there anymore not knowing what had happened to Sal. I snarfed down the remainder of my lunch. “I’ve got to check on something,” I said. I hurried back to school to find Mrs. Marchant.
I hadn’t seen Mrs. Marchant since the writ hearing. She looked up when the secretary let me into her office. “Miss Oberon. To what do I owe this pleasure? Most students come here only because of infractions.”
“Mrs. Marchant, it’s about Sal Davis,” I said. “Is it true that he transferred?”
She scrutinized me before saying, “He’s your boyfriend, correct?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And he’s told you nothing?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Then I’m afraid I can’t either. School policy aside, Miss Oberon, if Sal wanted you to know what he was doing, I’m sure he would have told you before he left.”
That was not the reply I’d expected, not from Mrs. Marchant. “I guess… I mean, I know you’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”
“No problem. I’m always happy to have students visit.”
“Thank you.”
I had the doorknob in hand and was struggling to keep my tears at bay when she said, “Often people don’t divulge their plans in order to keep others safe. Don’t you agree?”
My heart leaped. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Carry on, Miss Oberon.”
Closing the door behind me, I let out a sigh of relief. At least he was still alive. I hadn’t even realized how scared I was for him until just now. I’d barely admitted to myself the possibility that he could be hurt or killed on one of his missions.
The closer it got to my last class, the more worried I became about Fassbinder. He’d said he would meet me after school. Did that mean he’d be outside waiting? Was he going to call? Would he show up at the house? I fretted the entire fifty minutes of Language and Lit.
Miss Gray motioned to me as the bell rang. I was torn between being the good obedient student and getting outside. I bolted, leaving her standing there, shocked at my behavior. At least I wouldn’t have to explain tomorrow.
When I got outside, Wei was waiting. And so was Fassbinder.
She gave me a thumbs-up and slipped around the side of the building, off to set her end of the plan in motion. I took a breath and then marched down the steps to Fassbinder and his waiting trannie.
The driver opened the door, and I slid onto the backseat. Fassbinder sat next to me, practically hidden in the shadows.
“Well?” he asked.
“It’s all here.” I held out an envelope. “What about my grandfather?”
He opened the envelope and perused the contents. “Assuming this is what Mr. Lessig wants, you’ll be hearing from him,” he said. “You’re going to work at the Art Institute now?”
“Yes, and I’ll be late if I don’t hurry. May I go?”
“Mr. Lessig insisted that I be cordial to you. A task I hardly relish. However, since I’m meeting Mr. Lessig at the Palmer, I am going in your direction. Would you care for a ride?”
“No.” I let myself out of the trannie and took off to the transit stop. I couldn’t be late to pick up Joan.
Two transfers later, I was in front of my old apartment building. Rushing down to the riverfront, I saw Joan waiting, alone. We huddled in an alley, and she changed into Ginnie’s clothes. “How’d you get rid of your friends?” I asked.
“I told them I was turning myself in. Svette wanted to take me down there herself and get the money. But one of the others knocked her out and told me to run. Said she wouldn’t be a part of taking money for my life.” She turned her sad eyes to me. “Tell me it’s going to be all right, Nina. I’m so scared.”
I squeezed her hands tightly. “You will be fine. No one will hurt you ever again. Now”—I helped her up—“let’s go do this.”
When we got to the Institute, I ran my handsert through the employee entry gate while Joan exchanged the token for a visitor’s pass. That hurdle crossed, we made our way to the elports. Tuesday was Free Day, and the lobby was jammed with people. I hoped that would work in our favor. Spotting Paulette and Mag, I gave a quick jerk of my head to them. Mag winked in acknowledgment, then pulled Paulette back into the crowd.
Joan and I got into the elport and took it to the floor where I worked with Martin. It was twenty to four.
I led Joan to the storeroom. “You stay right here. I’ll be back in six minutes.”
I hurried through the tunnels to the roof. Three minutes there. Unlock the door. Three minutes back.
When I stepped into the storeroom again, I could see that leaving Joan alone in an enclosed room had not been a good idea. She was pacing, rubbing the back of her neck with her hands.
“They’re going to hurt me.” Her eyes darted around the room. “They’re coming for me again, aren’t they? Why don’t you do something?”
“Joan, it’s all right,” I said. “No one is here but you and me. No one is ever going to hurt you again.” I kept speaking softly to her, trying to reassure her of what we were doing. It took me way too long to pull her back to reality.