Xvi (13 page)

Gran brought me out of my thoughts. “See here?” She pointed to a photo. “Ginnie and Alan were perfect for each other.”

The two of them, side by side. My father’s arm was around my mother’s waist. They were looking at each other instead of the camera.

The next page was him and another guy in front of a building under a huge awning. I’d seen this album so many times, but I still didn’t know half of the people in it. “Gran, who’s that?”

“Jonathan. He was Alan’s best friend. The last time I saw him was at the memorial service fifteen years ago. He and his wife, Jasmine ... No, that’s not it ...” Gran searched the ceiling, like the name might be hiding up there. “Oh yes.” She smiled. “Jade. She’s the one who got your grandfather hooked on candied ginger.” Gran chuckled. “They were there with their baby, who was just a little older than you ... cute, very cute. Dark hair and big brown eyes. I can’t remember if it was a boy or a girl. You know, I never did see them again. I believe they eventually went overseas. At least that’s what Ginnie said.”

Funny, Ginnie had never mentioned them to me. “Did they keep in touch with Ginnie?”

“I think so, yes. At least until she started seeing Ed.” Gran frowned. “After that, I don’t know. I think she lost most all of the friends she and Alan had in high school. If it hadn’t been for you, and then Dee, I doubt we would’ve seen her, either.”

“You treat Dee like she’s your real granddaughter,” I said. “Even though Ed’s her father.”

“Of course we do,” Gran said. “She didn’t get to choose him, but we certainly got to choose having her in our lives. We would never have treated you two differently. You’re both our granddaughters, blood or not.”

I snuggled close to Gran. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, dear.” She laid her hands on the album. “Do you want to keep looking? I’m not boring you with all these old pictures, am I?”

“Oh no, Gran, these are great.” Maybe there was more in the book, something that might give me a place to start in my search for my father. I looked back at the photo. I supposed Jonathan, Jade, and their baby were long gone.

I stared closer at the photo, and noticed something else in the background. I took the album from Gran and looked more closely. There was a sign on the building behind them. “Do you know where they are? It says ‘Roost.’”

Gran adjusted her glasses, squinting at the picture. “Oh, that’s Robin’s Roost. They all practically lived there. What a grand hotel it was. It’s where Alan and Ginnie had their wedding reception.” Her eyes got that misty faraway look old people’s do when they’re drifting back in their memories.

“Robin’s Roost? Where was it?”

“It was at Wells and Lincoln. But, the government closed it down after several forays confirmed it as a hotbed of NonCon activities.”

“NonCons? Ginnie was outspoken about the government,” I said. “But she wouldn’t have been involved with NonCons, would she? She never would have put me and Dee in that kind of danger.” I wasn’t sure what my father was capable of doing.

“Oh, no, never. Alan didn’t go for underground activism either. He was candid and publicly vocal with his views, which did eventually get him in a bit of trouble. But nothing underground.”

“I wonder if the building is still there.” I was curious about a place where Ginnie and my father had spent so much time together. Knowing Ginnie, there must have been something really special about it.

“Oh, it’s still there. First it housed a Bureau of Safety and Security office. The location was too public for them.” She sniffed. “Didn’t want people to figure out what they actually do. Several groups tried to have it converted to housing for homeless, but the Governing Council refused. They boarded it up and there it sits, empty and useless.”

“Really? But they always go on about not wasting space and how they provide for homeless. Maybe since it’s old, the building’s not safe.”

“Humph. Hold this.” Gran handed me the album and left the room. When she returned she was carrying a little black machine, no bigger than a box of tissues, which she plugged in and flicked a switch. I’d never seen anything quite like it. And I’d never seen Gran do much of anything with electronics. She rarely even got online on her PAV.

She sat down next to me. “This is my safety net.” She tapped it with her finger. “The GC wouldn’t approve that building as housing for homeless because it wasn’t a rat-infested dump in a bad neighborhood.” Her eyes were flashing and I was startled by the vehemence in her voice. “What the government does approve is substandard housing in dangerous neighborhoods, minimally nutritious food, and menial jobs that barely pay enough to cover the cost of everything. It’s total crap!”

“Gran!” I couldn’t believe she was saying this; what if there were surveillance satellites turned to us? She sounded like Ginnie going off on an antigovernment rant. “Think about ...” I looked upward, hoping she’d pick up on my concern.

“Don’t worry. This little box is taking care of any surveillance. Nina, dear, you mustn’t believe everything—maybe not anything—the government says. For several generations the GC has been blatantly brainwashing society through Media messages. Look at your friend Sandy—see what sixteen propaganda has done to her? Why, two years ago she was as sweet and innocent as they come. Now she’s on the verge of becoming a wild sex-teen. The GC wants to keep people in their place—GPS implants, XVIs ...”

“But FeLS ... isn’t that a good thing? Sandy wants to get in to move up through the tiers.” My own words sounded halfhearted.

“That’s the kind of disinformation they teach you in school, isn’t it?” She sighed. “It’s not true. The government does nothing for the people, it only takes care of itself. Our whole system is designed to keep the GC in control. They run the Media, the Media runs us. It’s been going on for so many years that no one even notices anymore.” Gran closed the photo album and turned off the machine. “Alan noticed.” She took my face in her hands. “You’re so much like him.” Her PAV receiver beeped and we both jumped. “It’s Harriet, I’ll be back in a bit.” She looked over her shoulder at me as she was going out the door. “We’ll talk more later.”

I had never realized how alike Gran and Ginnie were. I picked up the album and flipped through the pages, stopping at the photo of my father and Jonathan. I knew the corner of Lincoln and Wells, but as hard as I tried, I couldn’t visualize the buildings. I made up my mind—tomorrow I’d go find Robin’s Roost. If it had meant so much to both of my parents, maybe there was some kind of feeling I could get from it. Perhaps an intuition, a hint or a nudge in the direction of my father. I knew I was being a little crazy, but without any concrete clues, I didn’t have a choice but to explore every bit of information I found about him.

Pops hobbled in on his crutch. “What’s this doing here?” He tapped the machine.

“Gran got it out. She said it was her safety net.”

He threw back his head and snorted. “It’s my old scrambler.”

“Your what?”

“Scrambler. It scrambles
them
.” He stuck his crutch in the air and circled it around. Then he leaned over and whispered, “Picked it up on a job and never gave it back.” He patted it like a dog. “Done me a lot of good over the years. You women planning a galactic takeover?” He laughed at himself. Then his eyes started to get that faraway look I’d seen so many times before.

“Gran went to Harriet’s,” I said. “Should we leave this out?”

“Huh? What?” Pops came back to the present. He switched the scrambler on and said, “You’d better put it away in its hideyhole, Little Bit. It goes in that cabinet above the chiller, behind the vent, you’ll see it.”

After I’d hidden the scrambler, I went to my room. Since Dee was finishing up her homework there, I slipped into her room to call Sandy. Sitting on the floor, surrounded by moving boxes, I poured out my new-school blues to her, leaving out any mention of Sal. She was still kind of touchy about that day at the zoo. And I certainly didn’t mention Robin’s Roost. Even though I loved Sandy, that was not the kind of thing I could talk to her about.

Later, as I was lying in bed, I mulled over everything Gran had said. My thoughts spun around like a blender. Homeless. I had thought the government was doing right by them: a place to live, food and jobs if they wanted them. I didn’t realize the price, however. Their lives were not their own. FeLS. Ginnie’d wanted so badly for me to stay out of it. She’d managed to buy out my contract. How she’d gotten the credits, I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure I
wanted
to know. Tattoos. I slid my wrist under the covers. There was no way out. My birthday was soon. In a few weeks I’d be branded and legal. GPS implants. I wanted mine gone—at least there I had an option. I could get it removed when I turned sixteen. I didn’t need the GC to keep me “safe” and track my every move. I crossed my arms over my chest, hugging myself tight.

Maybe I should give up, start reading
XVI Ways
, and figure out how to deal with the inevitable. A sliver of light from the hallway shone under the door and illuminated the room just enough for me to make out Ginnie’s picture by Dee’s bed.

Ginnie. She’d never been like Sandy’s mom, who always pushed and encouraged Sandy to follow Media guidelines. Mrs. Eskew’d bought Sandy every how-to vid that
XVI Ways
put out. She even made Sandy practice flirting and flaunting herself in front of her leering stepdad. I’d never say it to Sandy, but her mother was an idiot.

Ginnie never pushed me—except to do art, and that wasn’t exactly pushing. She’d been so against Media hype that she’d installed a disabler for the commercial feed on our FAV and would switch it off whenever she could. Once, she’d forgotten to turn it back on before Ed came over; as soon as he realized what she’d done, he was furious.

Lying there under the covers, I shivered. The ice-cold memory of his brutality gripped me. I could still hear him after he found the masking device in the controls: “Where did you get this?” When Ginnie refused to answer, he made her get out his box of vids. “You need a refresher course, babe,” he’d said. Then he ordered me to take Dee next door to Sandy’s. He never wanted his daughter to see what a horrible person her father was. Me, on the other hand, he didn’t care about at all. I knew I’d come back, and Ginnie would be in bad shape. She could barely walk for a week. Her right eye was swollen shut for days. He told Dee her mother was clumsy and ran into a cabinet door.

I hated him.

I wanted to believe in a different kind of love, like Gran said Ginnie and my father’d had. But I didn’t even know what that would look like. If it was all as bad as Ed’s vids made it out to be, I had a hard time imagining the human race would’ve survived. Fingering the T on my charms necklace, I stuffed back tears, whispering into the darkness, “How am I supposed to know what the truth is?”

Next day in homeroom, Wei turned to me and said, “Sal told me about your mother. I’m really sorry. That is so awful. And then to have to move to a new school ...”

Her expression was so kind and the remark was so unexpected, I thought I was going to lose it and cry right there.

“I’m doing okay.” I didn’t look at her. Instead I fiddled with the text chips on my desk. “Actually, I’m fine.” Lying about my feelings was becoming a lot easier.

“If you need to talk, I’m a good listener. Sal is, too.” She reached across the aisle and pressed my arm. “And he knows how it feels.”

“Why would I—”

Mr. Haldewick sashayed into the room tapping the floor with his pointer and shushed us all.

I knew Wei and Sal were friends, but I wondered just how well she knew him. Though she was right, Sal must have known how it felt—he was alone, too.

The bell rang, and Wei ducked out after class before I had a chance to say anything else to her.

I spent my last period running back through my plans to visit Robin’s Roost instead of focusing on Media Throughout History. Maybe today I would find something that led to my father. Dee was going home with her friend Maddie this afternoon. Derek and Mike weren’t expecting me either: Derek was rehearsing music with his brother and Mike had to go pick his dad up after a day of Bio-tester experiments at the government’s medical research building. If anyone asked, I said I was going to the zoo, then home. I was ready.

Finally, school ended and I got on the number 33 heading south, and got off the trans at Lincoln and Wells. I stood on the corner, like I was waiting for the light to change, until the transit was out of sight, then turned around. There, looming right in front of me, was Robin’s Roost.

I was stunned. I must have walked by this dilapidated wreck of a building a thousand times or more, but had never taken a second look. Let alone known what it once had been.

I don’t know what I’d expected to find there, but Robin’s Roost wasn’t much. The green awning from the photo was long gone. Its pitted and broken framework clung to the grimy, tagged walls like dead vines. Most of the windows at ground level had been broken and boarded up. A ghost of a rectangle on the stone by the front doors was the only evidence of where a sign had been. Someone must have taken it for scrap metal, or maybe for a souvenir of happier times. I hoped it was the latter. An orange plasticene notice glued on one of the doors proclaimed THIS BUILDING CONDEMNED. Underneath, in smaller print, it said, DEMOLITION SLATED AND CONFIRMED, DECEMBER 10, 2150. My birthday—only a month away. If I’d found out about this place much later, it would’ve been gone. For once, luck was on my side.