Nine-Tenths (23 page)

“Turn me off?”

“No Watchers tailing or listening.”

A jolt of adrenaline boosted Leonard’s spirits.

Carlyle raised his eyebrows playfully. “Imagine that. Have sex with your wife. A heart-to-heart with your children…Ah, yes. Leave them longing. Say good-bye with your good name intact and they’ll tell stories that would make you proud. What do you think?”

“No Watchers? Why?”

“Because that is the kind of man I am. You see? I’m a considerate person, Tramer.”

A real stand-up guy.

The commander rocked gently in his chair. “Five a.m. Thursday and you’re back on. Sorry to intrude on Natalia’s birthday celebration, but thirty-six hours is plenty risky enough.” He pulled his feet off his desk and sat forward. “And don’t even think about day trips. I’ll have your name at every gate.” He made a note on a small tablet.

“But I promised Natalia—”

“If you’d like,” the commander said harshly, “we can arrange a nice day trip for all of you…Idaho Springs and
beyond.
” His tone implied an ominous threat.

Leonard closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Images of pathetic men with knitting needles haunted him.

“Unless you forget about the damn day trip and be
grateful
for this tremendous gift I’m offering you. No Watchers? It’s been over four years since I’ve been this generous.”

Privacy. Thirty-six hours of privacy. That’s not a gift. It’s an individual right.
“Thank you, sir,” Leonard said dryly.

“But you know…” Carlyle’s voice bounced back to light and friendly. “…there is another way.”

Leonard sat forward. “Yes?”

“If you use your downtime to do a little reconnaissance…” A sickly grin crossed Carlyle’s face. “You
could
…” He allowed his words to trail off.

“Go on.”

“You could report to
me
on Friday instead of the DOH.”

“What kind of reconnaissance?”

“Why work on an old relationship when you can start anew. You know, no baggage. No need to
work it out.
”

“I don’t follow.”

Carlyle snickered. “Sure you do. You’ve considered it many times, I’m sure. It’s your trump card. You’ve been holding out on me…but guess what, Leonard?”

“Yeah?”

“Truh-ump,” Carlyle lilted.

Leonard slumped. “You want Alina.”

“I want Alina
and
Stewart Shinskey.”

Max.

“He lives in F3119,” Carlyle said. “The building you visited last night. Third floor. Goes by Max in the underworld.”

I know.

“As if we didn’t know who people are talking about when they refer to
Max.
” Carlyle tilted his head to one side. “Do you ever wonder if he and Alina…you know?”

I have wondered. Drop it.

“Ooh. Struck a soft spot there, didn’t I? Why be true to an unfaithful woman?”

Leonard maintained an expressionless gaze.

“Anyway,” Carlyle continued, “Fredericks believes it is better to leave Shinskey in the arena, so he can follow him, or so he says. But I’ve got my doubts about Fredericks. In fact, I just may score twice on this one. I want Shinskey. I want him without a shadow of a doubt. No petty toiletry smuggling. I need info trading or other traitorous activity. That way the boys in D.C. will know who’s got it together in Denver.” He puffed out his chest.

“And why Alina?”

“Alina’s just my…pet peeve.” There was something licentious in his tone. “You don’t have a problem with that, do you, Leonard?”

She’s my wife, you pervert.

Carlyle seemed to enjoy the way his comment unsettled Leonard. He smiled. “Give them to me on a silver platter and we’ll forget about all this.” He waved his hand as if swishing away a cloud of flies. “What do you think?”

Leonard remained impassive.

Carlyle stood up. “I’m sure you can come up with something incriminating in two days.” He moved slowly around the desk. “But it needs to be airtight or no deal.” He paused for a moment to make sure Leonard caught his meaning, and then he briskly marched toward the door and pressed in the code. “Let’s get a move on, Tramer. I’ll call the WLN before the overseer signs off. Unplug you.” He smirked. “Maybe you can get a little banging in before you turn her over to me.”

Leonard winced as Carlyle pushed him out the door. “See you Friday, Tramer.”

Leonard walked down the hall in a daze as the door clacked shut.

“See ya,” he whispered.

Chapter Twenty

The moment Leonard returned home, he searched for Alina. They had each taken the bus that morning, leaving the Toyota in the garage to save gas. When Alina arrived fifteen minutes later, she appeared exhausted.

Leonard immediately flipped on the television and called for a family meeting.

“I still have homework to do,” Natalia protested.

“It’s time for your mother and I to share some things with you. You deserve to know the truth.”

Sighing, Natalia tossed her books and a three-ring binder on the dining room table. She approached the couch hesitantly.

Alina’s wide eyes searched Leonard’s for a sign of hope. He shook his head solemnly. Her face fell and she dropped onto the couch in disbelief. Leonard retrieved a kitchen chair and pushed the coffee table out of the way so that he could sit close to the women and maintain a position of authority.

Authority.

The arrangement was not unlike that which he had experienced in Carlyle’s office, but from the opposite perspective — the girls on the couch and Leonard towering above them.

The thoughts that followed both shocked and appalled Leonard. He realized how easy it would be to comply with the commander’s request. All he needed was Alina’s fake ID plus a snippet of conversation implicating Max, aka Stewart Shinskey. Leonard could neglect to turn on the television and throw out a few leading questions on Thursday morning when the WLN was listening again. It would be quite simple actually.

As soon as the thoughts entered his mind, he experienced a wave of disgust. What kind of man would doom his wife to the infirmary in order to save himself? Was he that jealous of Max? Did he really think Alina was having an affair and therefore wanted to punish her? No. The real reason was far more disturbing.

Carlyle had succeeded. He enticed Leonard to consider becoming an informant in order to deflect pain and suffering from himself. Even more unsettling, such a betrayal would not only affect his wife, it would condemn his daughter as well. Natalia might not end up in the infirmary, but she would be forced into the Youth Brigade’s breeding program and probably end up in the CAPERS housing project.
What kind of man?
Ashamed and confused, he looked away and tried to compose himself.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“Oh…yeah,” he said, shaking his shoulders subtly. In a vain attempt to ease his conscience, he steered the conversation in another direction. “Something terrible happened this morning. Sandy Little committed suicide. I’m still somewhat stunned.”

Alina nearly shrieked. “What?”

“I found her at her desk.”

Alina’s mouth hung open in disbelief. Then she moaned, “My God. It’s all my fault.”

“Mom?” Natalia looked from her father to her mother, clearly frightened. Leonard touched her on the shoulder briefly, making eye contact but saying nothing.

Alina gazed at the ground for a minute, trying to come to terms with the death of the young woman she had seen only one day before.

“Don’t put this on yourself, Alina.”

She nodded.

“We have to talk about the tracking experiment.” He took a deep breath. “Our worst nightmare.”

“No dot? Maybe I have no transmitter.”

“You have a dot.”

“What’s a dot?” Natalia interjected.

“I don’t understand, Leonard. Did it stay in the hospital? I left my purse on the counter.”

He sighed. “It moved. To Fitzsimmons and beyond.”

“But I ditched the pass.”

“At first I thought we had it. I was elated. The tracking dot remained at Fitzsimmons and Seventeenth. It stayed there for a long time.”

Alina put her head in one hand. “A doctor I knew wanted to chat. It took me a few minutes to shake him.”

“That few minutes sent me from hell to heaven and back.”

“What are you saying?” The tears streaming down her face betrayed the fact that she already knew; she had already suspected. “The transmitter’s in my body,” she said softly. It wasn’t a question. Examining her arms in trepidation, she massaged the soft points around her wrists. “How could they possibly accomplish such a conspiracy behind our backs?”

“With babies a piece of cake,” Leonard mumbled.

“What?”

“They snatch them at birth. Snatch ’em and chip ’em. The new generation already tagged and ready to be tracked at a moment’s notice.”

“And the rest of us?”

Leonard turned inward and contemplated.
It would be very difficult.
A moment later a foreboding sense of despair, coupled with the satisfaction of deciphering a puzzle, sent a wave of adrenaline through Leonard’s body. He almost smiled.

“What is it?” Alina asked, trying to catch his eyes.

“The CARS testing. Everyone had to go in and get tested. You said they drew spinal fluid?”

“Yeah.”

“Why spinal fluid if the whole thing’s a ruse? Why not blood?”

Alina shrugged listlessly. “Perhaps so a citizen with a microscope would have a hard time performing the test at home.”

“Not a bad theory.”

“Wait,” Natalia interrupted. “What do you mean
a ruse
? It’s not real?”

Alina closed her eyes and shook her head, unable to look at her daughter.

A flurry of thoughts raced around Leonard’s mind competing for his attention. Logic elbowed out empathy. His daughter’s fear and his wife’s guilt would have to wait. He pressed on. “So the patient is on the table,” he said. “Facedown—”

“Lying on his side,” Alina corrected him.

“Okay, but there’s no way he can see what’s going on. How long does the CARS test take?”

A long pause. Her face paled.

“Alina?”

“I don’t know. A lumbar puncture shouldn’t take that long.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? You work at a hospital.”

“I never administered the test. I told you that.”

“But you were tested, right?”

“All of us were tested.”

“So how long did it take?” he said slowly as if talking to a child. “Were the people in the room chatty or nervous or—?”

“I don’t know.” She grimaced.

Leonard sighed in exasperation. “It was so traumatic that you don’t remember?”

Alina bit her lip and looked at the ground. “They put us under.”

“Anesthesia?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“They put everyone, even adults, under anesthesia for a…a lumbar puncture?”

“I guess in retrospect it seems kind of extreme.”

“No shit.”

Leonard’s heart raced and the cocky euphoria of solving a mystery dissolved into nausea. He did not wish to be right. Not this time.

“People were scared,” Alina said, but the weariness in her voice spoke volumes.

“Imagine the expense. No government would pay that kind of money to make people feel comfortable.”

Alina wiped her eyes. “So that’s how they did it.”

Natalia, clearly frightened and confused, grabbed her father’s arm forcing him to meet her gaze. “What on earth are you guys talking about?”

Leonard looked at Alina. She nodded faintly in response.

For the following half an hour, Leonard brought his daughter up to speed regarding the tracking transmitters and their now dashed hopes of leaving the city before Friday.

“We wanted to get you out of this nightmare,” Alina whispered, touching her daughter’s cheek.

Leonard leapt up and kicked the chair aside. He stared at the ceiling, allowing the anger and disappointment to flood his brain. After the waters receded, reason resurfaced. He reviewed the facts and considered their options. With a sharp intake of breath, the shady outline of an idea presented itself. He settled on the edge of the coffee table, bringing himself to eye level with his girls.

“There may still be a chance,” he said.

“How could there possibly be a chance, Leonard?”

“I haven’t told you everything. In order to stay at my desk during lunch, you know, to track you, I had to speak quite harshly to the break enforcer.” He cleared his throat, shaking off his utter disgust for the frumpy woman. “I succeeded, but not before a number of people noticed my erratic behavior.”

“So?”

“Carlyle called me into his office.” Leonard bit his lip, repressing the guilt of even considering betraying his family.

“Oh God. What did he do?”

“A passive-aggressive dance. He commented on my
CARS-like
behavior—”

“No!”

“He implied they’ve been actively tracking us, at least for the past twenty-four hours. Based on what he said and what I saw on the database yesterday, I doubt it was longer. But he knew about our walk to Max’s house—”

Alina groaned. “Max was right. I compromised his operation.”

A jolt of anger caught Leonard by surprise. “More importantly,” he said sharply, “you compromised your daughter’s safety.”

“I…uh…I didn’t mean—”

“Carlyle already knew about Max. Apparently, the Feds are not arresting him because they want to keep track of his activities.”

“They know about him?”

“Yes, but Carlyle didn’t seem to know about the fake IDs. Not that I could tell. I believe he thinks you’re passing information to Max.”
And why would he think that, Leonard? Did the envelope remark give him a clue?
“I don’t know what they actually have on Max. Carlyle seems to want him to fulfill some sort of personal vendetta.” Leonard deliberately did not disclose that the commander desired to snag Alina as well. “He’s trying to show up one of his colleagues.”

“By gathering information on Max?”

“By bringing him in.”

Alina gasped.

“He wants me to hand over incriminating evidence.”