Among the Barons (10 page)

Defiantly. But he felt as though Oscar had seen past the fancy silk Baron pajamas, monogrammed with Lee Grant’s initials. Somehow Oscar knew that Luke was nobody—and not really brave, not really confident, not really rich.

Oscar shrugged, as if he hadn’t really expected Luke to tell him anything. Or as if he didn’t need to know more about Luke.

“I’m going to tell you a story,” Oscar said softly “Then you’ll know why you should trust me. I’m sure you’ll appreciate hearing the truth.”

Oscar sat down opposite Luke. Oscar was wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt that emphasized his bulging biceps, but somehow he didn’t seem like a muscle-bound bodyguard anymore. He looked downright thoughtful, squinting seriously at Luke.

“The Government wants people to think that everyone’s in favor of our current dictator—I mean,
president,”
Oscar said sardonically. “That everyone believes that everything he does is just so wonderful and so
right.
That everyone believes the Barons deserve the privileges they get and the rest of the people deserve squat. But you and me, we know differently, don’t we?” When Luke didn’t answer, Oscar repeated, “Don’t we,
Lee?”

“Yes,” Luke whispered. He was still stunned by Oscar’s transformation. Oscar wasn’t the proper, rule-obsessed servant anymore. Even his voice sounded rougher.

“When something’s unfair,” Oscar said, “anyone with any gumption is going to fight it. Right?”

Luke nodded. He wanted to say, “Look, I struck a blow against the Government myself. I turned in an informer for the Population Police.” He wanted to impress this new Oscar, suddenly.

But he wasn’t sure Oscar would be impressed by anything Luke had done.

“I was eight when I put my first pipe bomb in a Baron’s mailbox,” Oscar said. “By the time I was twelve, I was stealing Barons’ cars. Not for my own benefit—no way! My buddies and me, we’d push those cars into the river. Can you imagine the kind of splash a limo makes? And how the police flock to the shore? We were risking our lives for the cause.”

Luke swallowed hard.

“So then Barons moved farther and farther out from the big cities,” Oscar said. “They all got security fences, security guards. They went crying to the Government, ‘Boo-hoo-hoo. Those vandals are out of control.’ And the Government listened to them. They passed new laws—did you know that it’s a bigger crime to destroy a Baron’s property than to kill an ordinary person? It’s true.” Oscar lowered his voice, as if confiding a great secret in Luke. “And meanwhile, ordinary people are starving in the streets....”

“That’s not fair,” Luke said in a small voice.

Oscar stood up and started to pace. “That’s right, it’s

not fair. That’s why we’re doing something about it.”

“We are?” Luke asked. He wondered if Oscar was going to say anything about the unfair Population Law, which forced third children into hiding. That was something else the Government had done wrong. Did Oscar know about those kids, who had even more reason than Oscar to hate the Government? Did Oscar care?

Oscar paused in his pacing and gave Luke a glance that made Luke feel about as big as an insect And as easily squashed.

“I’ve been working for the underground resistance for years,” Oscar said. “Our sole goal is to overthrow the Government and the Barons, and to reestablish justice. Equity for all, that’s our motto.” Oscar rested his hands on the back of the chair he’d been sitting in. Luke could tell that Oscar only needed to flex a muscle or two and he could have torn the chair to shreds. But Oscar wasn’t moving. He was watching Luke.

“You and I both know,” Oscar said, “it’s treason even to say that I oppose the Government. If you reported me, I’d deny everything. And there’d be no evidence to link me to any plots.”

Luke could tell Oscar was waiting for Luke now, waiting for some sort of cue to go on.

“I won’t report you,” Luke said. “Why would I do that?” “Good,” Oscar said. “We understand each other.”

He sat down again and seemed to relax back into his story. “I’ll admit,” he said. “I was nothing but a two-bit punk

in the beginning. I was poor, uneducated—how could I be anything else? But then my friends and me, we got hooked up with some other rebels. Eggheads, we called them. They thought about stuff like political philosophy. Who needs it? But they had the money to do real damage. They taught us about having more of an impact than blowing up a few mailboxes, ruining a few cars, when the Barons could always buy new. They taught us about being subtle. They even trained some of us as accountants, computer experts, electricians, all the trades. So we could create even more problems for the Government and the Barons.”

“Oh,” Luke said.

“You know those electrical outages they kept having on the coast? We did that,” Oscar said. “Entire cities, blacked out. Because of us.”

Luke had never heard of the electrical outages, but he tried to look impressed.

Oscar sprawled in his chair, as if he was totally comfortable with telling Luke this part of his story

“Nobody was supposed to know about us, but we were famous, in our own way,” Oscar said. “Who else dared to do anything? We were cool. We even started attracting a Baron kid or two, rebelling against their parents.”

Luke looked up, startled.

“Lee,” Luke said.

“Yep,” Oscar said, nodding. “The real Lee Grant. Or

maybe I should say, the original version.”

Luke leaned forward, waiting. He realized he was barely breathing.

“Lee wasn’t our first Baron kid, but he had the best connections,” Oscar said.

“But why would he—,” Luke began.

“If your dad’s the richest man in the country, and you’re mad at him, what’s the best way to get back at him? Mess up the Government Such fun.” Oscar shook his head. “None of us trusted him.”

“Then, why did you let him join?” Luke asked.

“Don’t you see?” Oscar asked. “He was Lee
Grant.
What a great weapon for our cause.” He looked down. “Some in our group thought the best thing we could do was to kidnap him and ask for ransom. We could have financed our operations for years to come.”

“But you didn’t do that,” Luke said, almost as a question.

“No,” Oscar said impatiently. “We thought he’d be more useful in other ways. And he was. He.
. .
matured. He was turning into a fine subversive. When he was home on break from school, he relayed lots of plans he stole from his father. Plans that helped us know what the Government was up to so we could counter their activities.”

“What did he do for you when he was away at school?” Luke asked. In spite of himself, he was fascinated by this new version of Lee’s life. Luke felt like he was putting together a jigsaw puzzle: Here’s one piece showing Lee

pulling his younger brother, Smits, in a red wagon. Here’s the piece from his mother: Lee as the gifted musician, the talented athlete, the brilliant student. Here’s the piece from Mr. Grant—Lee as the stubborn troublemaker.

Somehow that was the only piece that seemed to jibe with Oscar’s story.

aHe went to one of those fancy, richy-rich prep schools. And while he was there”—Oscar chucked~uhe tricked all those sons of the establishment into helping us without even knowing it. He was a piece of work, that Lee.~

“But he died,” Luke said. For the first time he put together what Smits and Smits’s parents had said. “He was killed doing something for you. For your group.” It wasn’t a question. That had to be the “illegal activity~ Mr. Grant had referred to. That had to be the reason a Government soldier had shot Lee. Smits hadn’t been lying about that at all.

Oscar frowned.

“Unfortunately, yes. He was killed during one of our secret missions,” Oscar said.

“NVhat was itT’

Oscar narrowed his eyes, as if trying to decide how much to tell Luke. “Last spring we thought maybe we had our chance to act. There’d been an anti-Government rally in the capital. We weren’t part of that—we knew it was doomed from the start. But it shook some people up. A lot of kids died, right there in public, and there were actually some officials who got upset. Public deaths are

so much more offensive than private ones.”

Luke wasn’t sure what to make of this news. Was Oscar talking about the rally that Jen had led and died in? Had the rally had an impact after all?

We thought we’d strike while the enemy was in disarray,~
Oscar
said. “But we had to get weapons out to everyone in our group as quickly as possible. Some of our people were in the far north. Lee was a good cross-country skier. He volunteered to cross the mountains to deliver the munitions.

^TM
Munitions?” Luke repeated.

~Guns,~ Oscar said.

Luke tried to imagine a boy his age, alone in the mountains, carrying guns. He’d never seen any mountains for real, but he pictured them as desolate places. Just snow and trees and Lee, carrying guns.

“So they caught him. The Government caught him,” Luke said.

Oscar nodded.
^TM
Lee had the sense to try to escape. He knew this was life or death. If they’d captured him alive, they might have tortured him. He might have revealed our plans, betrayed our group. We might all be dead right now if Lee had talked.”

If Luke had been in Lee’s place, would Luke have been able to be so brave?

“But your plan,” Luke said. “You didn’t go through with your plan?”

“Do you see any sign that the Government’s gone? That

the Barons’ wealth has been given to the people?” Oscar clutched the arm of his chair—an exquisite leather chair—as if he really wanted to hand it to some poor person. “No. Without our allies in the north, with the Government suspicious after finding Lee, it wasn’t worth the risk.”

“Oh,~ Luke said.

All this had been happening while Luke was sitting at home wondering what had happened at Jen’s rally. What else had been going on in the country then? How many others wanted to overthrow the Government? Maybe if they all got together—maybe that way something would happen.

“Did Mr. Talbot know about your plan?” Luke asked.

“Who?” Oscar said.

^TM
Mr. Talbot. The man who came to school that one time. He had lunch with Mr. Hendricks and Smits and me, the day Smits ran off and said he wouldn’t obey his parents....”

A disgusted look was spreading over Oscar’s face.

“He’s a Baron. Barons can’t be trusted,” Oscar said.

“You trusted Lee,” Luke reminded him.

~Lee was a kid,” Oscar said. “He could be
...
molded. Someone like this Mr. Talbot—bah!”

Luke felt honor-bound to defend Jen’s father.

“But he’s helped me,~ Luke protested. “More than once.” Did he dare tell Oscar that Mr. Talbot was a double agent, pretending to work for the Population Police

while he secretly sabotaged their work?

‘Are you sure?” Oscar snarled. “Are you sure he wasn’t just helping himself? Will he still help you when you no longer serve his purposes?”

And Luke couldn’t answer that. He trusted Mr. Talbot.Of course he trusted Mr. Talbot. But maybe it had helped Mr. Talbot to give Luke a fake I.D., to protect him at Hendricks School. Luke knew about Jen. Luke could tell the Population Police about Jen. Luke could get Mr. Talbot killed.

It had never occurred to Luke before that he had any power over Mr. Talbot.

He didn’t like thinking about Mr. Talbot in that way. He forced himself to stare back steadily at Oscar, so Oscar didn’t see how confused Luke was. Luke crossed his arms over his chest, trying to look certain, trying to look unfazed. Something in his pajama pocket jabbed into his arm—it was the fake I.D.’s he’d taken from Smits’s room at Hendricks after the fire. Did Luke dare ask Oscar about those I.D.’s now?
Was
it finally time to get an explanation?

No. Luke felt like he’d already made a mistake mentioning Mr. Talbot. It was better to wait and see what Oscar would tell him on his own.

After a second Oscar sighed and said, “Never mind. This Mr. Talbot, he doesn’t matter now. It helped everyone to have you become Lee Grant. It helped the Grants and it helped our cause. It protected us from the Government”

Luke could have added, ~And it helped me He could even have made it funny, like a joke. That would have defused the tension that had suddenly arisen between him and Oscar. But he couldn’t bring himself to do that He kept his lips resolutely pressed together, waiting.

“Yes, you helped us a1I,~ Oscar said. “But there have been problems....

“I know about Smits,” Luke said. That seemed to be a safe subject. “I know that he told people Lee was dead—n

Oscar waved away that concern.
^TM
We can handle Smits. He’s just a little boy. And he has me to watch out for him.” Oscar grinned in a way that reminded Luke of a drawing of the Big Bad Wolf in the fairy tale book his mother had read to him when he was little. Hadn’t there been a story in that book about how stupid it was to let a wolf guard sheep?

“Do Mr. and Mrs. Grant know that you, urn, I mean...,” Luke began.

“That I know how Lee died? That I know Smits isn’t so crazy after all—just stupid? That I work for the resistance? Do you think
I’m
crazy?” Oscar peered intently at Luke, and for a minute Luke thought he expected an answer. Then Oscar exploded, “Of course not. They don’t know anything.”

“Well, that’s good,” Luke muttered.

Oscar laughed. ~Yeah, you could say that I just ‘happened’ to show up here looking for work at the right time. ‘Do
you
need a bodyguard for
your sons?’
I asked. ‘Sons,’ I