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Authors: Meira Pentermann

Nine-Tenths (7 page)

BOOK: Nine-Tenths
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“I know.” Alina’s face radiated hope and perhaps relief.

“And maybe Garrett will…” His words trailed away.

Alina’s expression darkened slightly and she shook her head, placing one finger over his lips. Her eyes glistened and Leonard understood that, for once, she was not hushing him for the sake of their political security but in consideration of her own breaking heart.

“I’m going to go organize my drawers and take a rest,” he announced.

“Okay. I’ll finish up with the kitchen and water the plants. And I have to go to the store this afternoon.”

Leonard’s spirit wilted. He had rather hoped she would help him search for the ID, but as she pointed out, the one searching had to think like Leonard.

He spent the better part of the day reorganizing drawers, nearly dismantling his briefcase, and rifling through every pocket of every shirt and coat that belonged to him. He was sure he would find it in the drawers, tucked away in a neglected sock, or in his briefcase in some hidden compartment. Nothing. Even his leather wallet held next to nothing and, after careful examination, he concluded the wallet did not contain a secret pocket.

He did find something interesting in the afternoon — a curious box on a shelf in the closet. The box contained several diplomas, awards from IBM, and a picture of Leonard shaking the hand of a striking man with a goatee and a mustache. Mementos of a life he never led, or — at least — one he did not remember leading. According to the documents, Leonard had completed two masters, one in electrical engineering and one in computer science. He regarded the diplomas wistfully for several minutes before resuming his search.

When Alina returned from the store, she found Leonard in the bedroom fondling his briefcase for the fourth time that afternoon.

He threw his hands in the air in a silent shrug of surrender.

Alina sat down on the bed and inspected the briefcase thoroughly.

“You know what’s weird?” she whispered. “There’s nothing in here. Empty tablets. A science magazine. A few mechanical pencils.”

“I suppose, given the nature of whatever it is I do, I’m not allowed to take anything out of the base.”

“Then why have a briefcase?” she asked softly, a wry expression on her face.

“I don’t know,” he replied in exasperation, completely missing her facetious tone. “So I look the part?”

“So you have a magazine to read on the toilet?”

Leonard allowed himself to crack a smile for the first time since he left the breakfast table. He was grateful for the diversion.

Alina put the briefcase on the bed.

“I didn’t find a cell phone either,” Leonard said suddenly. “Did they ban those, too?”

“No. We have a couple of cell phones in our kitchen junk drawer. No one uses cell phones anymore. It didn’t take long before people noticed that compromising conversations led to investigations.”

“Terrific,” he grumbled.

“Have you eaten anything today?”

“I grabbed a banana.”

“Come on. You’re going to help me make fajitas.”

“But—”

“I couldn’t snag any vegetables, but the chicken looks decent, and I think I’ve got one near-ripe tomato on the back porch. We’ll have to split two flour tortillas.” Her lips found his ear. “You need to take a break. You’ll have a second wind after dinner and your brain will rejuvenate for another round of searching.”

“What if I can’t find it?”

She flipped her hands over revealing empty palms. “Then you’ll have to play dumb when you get there and pretend you lost it.”

“Great. Then they’ll take me into another room and grill me. I’m screwed.”

She jumped up and spoke in a normal volume. “Fajitas, mister. I need a cook’s assistant.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he responded playfully, following her out of the room.

***

After dinner Leonard resumed his mission, retrying all the places he searched before and exploring new nooks and crannies. Natalia had gone to her room, so Leonard searched the main areas of the house.
I doubt I’d leave it in the family area, but you never know.
He stumbled upon a stack of photo albums and promised himself he would peruse them later when his head was clear. Otherwise, the expanded search proved fruitless.

He wandered up the stairs and found Alina wrapped in a towel.

“I’m taking a bath,” she announced. Then she tipped her head and gazed at him with inquiring eyes.

He shook his head in reply.

Alina’s bright expression faded. “Why don’t you retire for the night,
darling
.” She winked. “I’ll join you after I have a nice soak.” Inadvertently, she glanced down the hall in the direction of Garrett’s room. She looked away quickly. For a second, her eyes betrayed grief, before they resumed the false contentment Alina projected to the outside world. When she noticed Leonard still standing a couple of feet away, she frowned and silently shooed him away.

Leonard sulked down the hallway, a burning in his chest stemming from a mixture of anger and frustration.
Having to speak in riddles in my own house, sounding like an idiot. What kind of world is this?
A chill traveled up his spine. For the second time in twenty-four hours, he considered building a new time machine to escape the Orwellian nightmare.
It’s going to take a long time to gather the supplies,
he reminded himself.
I need to get that pass. The base may be the best place to find the materials I need.

Leonard looked up and noticed an attic door on the ceiling, a cobweb in one corner. It seemed quite obvious that the door had not been opened recently, and it was extremely unlikely that he would wander into the hallway every morning and evening to retrieve or store his pass. Nevertheless, the attic door called to him. He retrieved a footstool from the hallway closet and quietly pushed the panel. He felt around before moving the panel to the other side. On the third try, Leonard’s hands felt something smooth resting on the insulation. Quietly, he removed a gift box, replaced the board, and retreated to the bedroom.

Inside the box, Leonard found a legal pad filled with notes and calculations in barely legible handwriting. The next several pages contained loosely sketched drawings that looked vaguely like maps. The box also held dozens of family photos. Alina’s parents. Leonard’s parents. Digging to the bottom of the box, Leonard discovered two passes — some kind of ID badges. Although the names were different, the pictures implied that one was for Alina and the other was Natalia’s. Alina’s ID had the name Heather L. Simpson, MD in bold print and Natalia’s read Madison Simpson.

Aliases?

Leonard held Alina’s ID at arm’s length, trying to make out the fine print, but he was distracted when Alina began singing in the bathtub. Startled, he dropped the pass and tipped the box. A green slip of paper fluttered to the floor while Alina splashed enthusiastically. Leonard hastily shoved everything back into the box and stashed it under the bed.
Discuss it with Alina later.
He wandered into the hall to confirm that he had properly refitted the attic door. Satisfied, he looked back toward the bedroom and down the staircase, pondering where on earth to search next.

As he stood contemplating, he became aware of music emanating from Natalia’s room. Surprising mellow and folkish, Leonard smiled. His daughter brought him joy. Natalia and Alina. Islands of beauty within an oppressive parallel reality. He wandered to her closed bedroom door. Natalia’s rich voice blended with an acoustic song. Leonard leaned against the wall and listened. He noticed a strange smell wafting from beneath the door. He took a step back in surprise.
Is she doing drugs?
Summoning his courage, Leonard knocked lightly. The music stopped. A minute later, Natalia cracked the door and peeked out, appearing insecure and apprehensive.

“How are you doing?”

“I’m just listening to music and going through my things.”

Leonard peered through the small opening and noticed what appeared to be scrapbooks or photo albums on her bed. The aroma, stronger now, smelled like citrus or something sweet, perhaps an air freshener or perfume.
Or a cover-up for smoking something.

“Okay,” he said. “Just let me know if you need anything.”

Natalia’s expression, one of disbelief, broke Leonard’s heart. The idea that his kindness shocked Natalia was unbearable.
Was I really that bad of a father?
Another uncomfortable feeling followed. Why did Natalia’s room smell like something sweet? Determined to sneak in at a later date, he returned to his bedroom to search for the elusive DID pass.

A few minutes later, he heard a door open and close.
Thank God, Alina. I need all the help I can get.
The footsteps sounded odd, however. Shoes. Alina would not emerge from the bathroom wearing shoes. Leonard stood and crossed to the door, peering out stealthily. Natalia descended the staircase carrying something in a small plastic bag, its handles tied in several knots. When she reached the foot of the stairs, Leonard followed her.

She slipped out the back door. Leonard pursued, closing the door quietly behind him. He arrived just in time to see Natalia squeeze through a gap in the bushes — overgrown junipers which ran along the house. He was dumbfounded. Still reluctant to confront his daughter in the fear that she would follow in her brother’s footsteps, he merely stared, feeling helpless. His throat dry, he tried to swallow only to find that made it worse. A few minutes later, the bushes rustled and Natalia began to back out of the tight space.

Leonard’s heart palpitated as he frantically looked around for cover. He dashed behind a large oak tree in the corner of the yard and peeked tentatively in Natalia’s direction. The girl emerged without the plastic bag, and she quickly returned to the house.

After several minutes, Leonard found the gumption to leave his hiding place and creep toward the bushes. Hesitantly, he crawled into the gap. A garden shovel rested against a mound of dirt next to a one-foot square hole which was at least a foot and a half deep. A large dinner plate lay in the hole, stuck at an angle. A cylinder container of powdered sink cleaner stood on the far side against the house. Leonard carefully removed the plate. Filled loosely with dirt and a layer of white powder, the hole resembled a miniature mass grave. Leonard’s stomach turned over. Clearly, Natalia had tossed the bag in the hole and covered it with a layer of dirt and soft scrub. He cringed and realized that he didn’t want to know. Drug paraphernalia, empty liquor bottles — whatever it was, he refused to look. He jammed the plate back into the hole and scrambled back. Glancing around nervously, he made his way back to the house.

Coward.

He bit his lip and his eyes stung. He weakly consoled himself with the spineless argument that a father should respect his daughter’s secrets.

Secrets.
Why the hell didn’t I think of it before?

He dashed upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. Rushing into the bedroom, he was momentarily taken aback by Alina’s half-naked form standing near the closet. His jaw dropped and coherent thoughts slipped away. Then he shook his shoulders and crossed to the dresser.

“I was expecting a more enthusiastic reception,” Alina said seductively. “Last night you were dying to get me naked.”

“Yes, yes,” Leonard said absentmindedly, as his mind refocused on the task at hand. He dropped to the floor, flipped over, and scooted backward banging his head. Oblivious to the pain, he peered under the dresser. Then he slid his hand under one corner and fiddled with the underside.

A mischievous grin appeared on Alina’s face. “You remembered, haven’t you?” she whispered.

“I remembered where I stashed my treasures when I was nine.”

Now dressed in a soft nightgown, Alina joined Leonard on the floor as his hand emerged from beneath the dresser. He held a magnetic swipe card with his photo, some numbers, and the DID logo — a series of dark blue concentric circles.

“Your pass,” she exclaimed. She covered her mouth and looked around, dismayed.

He held up the pass triumphantly and raised his eyebrows several times.

Alina threw her arms around him. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so glad. This will make tomorrow so much easier.”

In the joy of the moment, Leonard completely forgot about the box stashed under the bed. His thoughts turned to the task ahead of him — surviving a day at the mysterious Department of Interrogation and Defense.

Chapter Six

Alina and Leonard left the house at quarter past six. Natalia, wearing a navy school uniform and a glum expression, waved them along with a listless good-bye. Leonard’s heart ached with concern, but his wife herded him out of the door before he had the chance to speak to his daughter.

He remained speechless throughout the drive as they passed dozens of housing projects in varying states of disrepair. A few of them made the Guilder Project look positively glamorous. Interspersed with older neighborhoods, the projects gave the landscape a peculiar air — an odd blend of charming and repulsive. Knowing he ought to recognize his surroundings, Leonard racked his brain trying to recall what used to be in the area, but no images surfaced.

They parked at the bus station at quarter to seven. Alina had explained that most citizens had limited rations for gasoline, so the buses and trains were the only readily available methods of transportation.

One bus took Alina directly to the hospital, but Leonard would require a transfer at the Aurora station. Unfortunately, Alina did not know the number of that bus. Examining the transit map, they eventually concluded that the transfer bus was either number forty-nine or fifty, but neither route seemed to take him very close to the supposed location of the base.

“Perhaps there’s a shuttle,” Alina suggested.

Leonard sighed. “I guess I’ll see when I get there.”

Thankfully, Leonard’s bus to the Aurora station came first, so Alina could get him settled before she went on her way. The vehicle was dank and dirty, and the windows whistled from lack of proper sealing. Grateful for the sunny September morning, Leonard took a seat near the back. Had it been a cold day, the wind would have whipped through the cracks and chilled the passengers to the bone.

BOOK: Nine-Tenths
13.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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