Free Face, The by Angela Hunt

family, Sarah, and everyone deserves to know where they come from. It’s only right that you should give yourself the opportunity. Aren’t you even curious about this woman?”
    I remain silent as I sort through my thoughts. Judson must sense that I’m confused, because for once he allows me to process without interruption. “I think…it might be nice to meet someone who grew up with my father.”
    “Good grief, kid, don’t you even know your own heart? You’re too young to be so detached.”
    I stiffen. “I’m not so young. And I’m certainly not detached.”
    “Oh, yes you are.” Tremors of mirth fracture his voice. “I know you’re smart, kid, but I also know you haven’t spent a lot of time in the real world. Sorry, but it shows.”
    “Dr. Mewton says I’m quite culturally literate.”
    “Do you hear yourself? Normal kids your age don’t go around thinking of themselves as culturally literate. I don’t care how many movies you watch, until you step out and live your life, you’re never going to understand why you’re even on the planet.”
    His broad hands rise to clasp the sides of his head, and though he’s wearing a smile, his arms are tense, as if he’s in some kind of pain. “I know we’re not supposed to talk about certain things, but it’s not right that you should stay here, kiddo. I thought only lunatics and NOLs like me ended up in this place—”
    “NOLs? Explain the acronym.”
    “Figure it out, girlie. If you’re so smart, you can put the pieces together.”
    I lower my gaze, unable to bear the pressure of his sealed eyelids and twisted visage. “I’ve lived here all my life. When my parents died, Dr. Mewton became my guardian. She’s been looking after me ever since.”
    “Ah.” Judson lifts a brow. “That explains a lot.”
    “About what?”
    “About why you’re the teacher’s pet. But let me guess something—this surgery, did it have something to do with your ears?”
    Ears, mouth, nose, jaw, teeth, skull…but he doesn’t need all the details. “How could you tell?”
    “Something in your voice reminds me of this deaf girl I knew once. She could talk and read lips, but her voice always sounded…kind of hooty.”
    “Hooty? Like an owl?”
    He shrugs. “It’s hard to explain.”
    My hand rises to touch the cochlear device implanted in the right side of my head. “I’ve had good hearing for years.”
    “Don’t get all self-conscious on me. Your voice is fine. It’s just different, that’s all.”
    “Different from what?”
    “Forget I mentioned anything. You’re fine.” Judson parks his elbow on the armrest of his chair and drops his chin into his palm. “So…are you going to write this aunt of yours?”
    “I want to…but Dr. Mewton doesn’t like the idea.”
    “This one goes beyond Mewton. Sounds like your aunt has a friend or two in high places, so go ahead, invite her to our little fortress. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, you can always send her away.”
    “I don’t know. The Gutenberg project has me tied up—”
    “Look, kid, you’ve got no reason to lay your entire life on the company altar. Live a little, take a chance. Don’t push this woman away or you might turn into Spock for real.”
    I’ve watched enough Star Trek DVDs to understand he’s saying I might turn into some kind of emotionless Vulcan. I exhale through my teeth as I consider his advice, then I extend my leg and gently tap his wheelchair with my foot. “Thanks. I’ll think about it.”
    “Course you will. Now—can you find a way to print Luscious and Lonely’s picture in Braille? If you were really grateful, you’d find a way to make that happen.”
    “Keep dreaming, Jud,” I tell him, turning back to the computer. I ought to get back to work on Gutenberg, but one of Jud’s questions hovers at the edge of my mind: what did my father do for the company?
    I log on to Intellipedia and enter my father’s name, then click Enter. Search term not found.