Nine-Tenths

by Meira Pentermann

  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.


  The bus turned onto Interstate 225 and Leonard’s stomach lurched. He had managed to avoid that stretch of pavement for over thirty years. Now, here he was, soon to be back at the scene of the crime. To add insult to injury, that very location gave birth to the series of events that led Leonard to an alternate reality from hell — a totalitarian state with dozens of acronyms representing government organizations, the functions of which he did not fully comprehend.

  Intently scrutinizing everything but the names of the exits, Leonard hoped to slip by the scene of the accident without registering it. The mission was not difficult, as he did not recognize anything. Government housing projects loomed on either side of the road, sending a wave of claustrophobia through Leonard’s already battered psyche.

  Did they have a population explosion?

  Leonard’s dismal thoughts dissipated when the bus driver called out “Transfer Station Number Five.”

  He disembarked and wandered over to the schedule posted on the side of the bus shelter, trying to appear like a veteran public transportation rider. He examined the schedule for several minutes and glanced at his watch. Bus number forty-nine was due in twenty minutes; bus number fifty in ten. Contemplating his next move, Leonard nearly fell backward when he felt a sharp tap on his shoulder.

  “Tramer, are you deaf? The shuttle’s here.”

  Leonard turned and found a middle-aged, red-haired man staring at him with a look of exasperation on his face.

  “I’ve been calling you,” the man explained.

  Over the man’s shoulder, Leonard caught sight of an unmarked, light-blue van.

  “Come on.” The strange man pulled on Leonard’s arm, leading him to the van. He pushed Leonard through the door. All spaces were taken except two in the back, making the choice easy.

  “Hey, McGinnis. What’s the holdup?” a burly man in the front row asked as Leonard and the redhead shuffled past.

  “Just picking up stragglers.”

  McGinnis. Leonard tucked the information in his already cluttered brain and settled down on the seat next to the window. McGinnis sat down beside him.

  “When we get in, I’ll take you to the coffee pot straightaway,” McGinnis said cheerfully. “You’re clearly not on your game this morning.”

  “Oh, yeah, sorry. I guess I’ve been in my head a lot lately.”

  “No shit.”

  Leonard looked out the window as the motley collection of housing developments and multistory apartment buildings gave way to fields of grass.

  McGinnis cleared his throat. “Do anything fun this weekend?”

  If you include traveling in a supposed time machine to an alternate reality, it’s been a blast. Otherwise, I’ve spent most of my Sunday searching for the stupid pass. “Oh, not really. How about you?”

  “I went to the game. Got great seats.” He seemed quite pleased with himself.

  Football? “How did you score the tickets?”

  “Many hours of shameless ass-kissing, which you rightly observed I’m famous for. But it pays off, man. It pays off. You need to come out of your quiet little engineering hole sometimes.” McGinnis chuckled.

  “Who won?”

  “What? Please don’t tell me you missed the game. What the hell were you doing?”

  “Uh…helping Alina clean the house.”

  “You got to be kidding me. Are you that pussy-whipped?” He covered his heart melodramatically. “The shame, the shame.”

  “She’s been very busy and frustrated at work. So many CARS cases, you know. I just thought if I helped her it might…ease the burden.”

  McGinnis regarded him skeptically. “That’s very thoughtful of you. And I always thought you were an inconsiderate bastard.”

  “Thanks,” Leonard said, really disliking the Leonard who walked in his shoes before he arrived.

  McGinnis laughed.

  Changing the subject, Leonard asked, “So what are we doing today?”

  McGinnis stopped laughing, scrunched up his brow, and stared at Leonard in disbelief. “The same thing we’ve been doing for the past three years. What’s wrong with you, Tramer?” He gazed at Leonard with concern. Then he grinned. “Ah, I get it. Now I know why you were taking Alina’s woes away. I get it, man. Hoping for the payoff. From the looks of you, I’d say you hit the jackpot, because you are definitely a man who had his brains fucked out last night.” He slapped Leonard’s thigh and burst out laughing again.

  Leonard winced but forced a smile.

  Soon he caught sight of a massive building in the distance. As they drew nearer, Leonard distinguished three buildings about ten stories high. Surrounded by a chain link fence topped in razor wire, the buildings seemed ominous yet oddly attractive. The structure in the front looked like an office building; a series of blue glass windows graced the upper floors, catching the sun and throwing splashes of turquoise on the vehicles already behind the gates. The two structures in the back, on either side of the main building, had no windows. They appeared to be longer and wider. Beyond the trio, acres of paved land and two landing strips became visible, as well as about a half dozen small jets and three helicopters.

  At the front gate, the van had to pass through a guard station. Even though the van presumably entered the same gate every weekday, they waited for several minutes. One guard peeked in and inspected the passengers before giving the driver an okay to proceed.

  Along a circular drive, vans pulled up to the entrance of the main building. The queue operated like a series of taxis dropping guests off at a hotel. Three revolving doors greeted the employees as they disembarked. Leonard followed McGinnis closely, hoping not to slip into the throngs of people. When they emerged on the other side of the revolving door, they immediately encountered a security area. McGinnis walked up to a station, swiped his pass through a card reader, and leaned over a six-inch circular device. Presently, Leonard caught a faint beep and the gate flipped open. Retina scan? he wondered as he neared the gate and repeated the steps. Beep. The arm of the gate popped up.

  McGinnis was nearing the end of the security corral. What came next looked like a typical airport metal detector. Leonard proceeded to pass through.

  “Briefcase,” a large woman with a nasal voice muttered in monotone.

  Leonard looked down and noticed that he was clutching his briefcase, knuckles white. “Oh, sorry,” he stammered as he placed the briefcase on the conveyer belt. When he passed through the metal detector, a red light popped on, causing him to hesitate. A puff of air assailed Leonard and it took him a moment to regain his composure. Then a green light flashed and he continued, grabbing his briefcase on the other side. His new friend was waiting for him.

  The inside of the main building had a large, open lobby; spacious but currently overrun with newly arriving DID employees anonymously bumping into one another, each trying to navigate the drowsy maze of humans. The ceiling rose thirty feet above them, and two floors overlooked the atrium. On the left, lushly carpeted stairs led to the second and third floors. On the right, a three-story portrait covered an entire wall.

  Leonard took a step back in alarm. A woman cursed and shoved him aside. He struggled through the crowd, never taking his eyes off the absurd display.

  The striking man in the portrait seemed to be studying the DID employees as they made their way through the lobby. His haughty expression and dark gray goatee reminded Leonard of someone, but he could not place him. Goose bumps darted up Leonard’s arm. Never, not even in the alternate reality thus far, had the world seemed this surreal.

  Looking forward, he searched for McGinnis. He found him standing in front of three crowded hallways that contained six elevators each.

  “Get a hold of yourself, for Christ’s sake,” McGinnis said. “You should’ve stayed home.”

  “Sorry. I’m a little dizzy.”

  “Let’s go.” The redhead turned and rushed to the bank of elevators on the right.

  “McGinnis,” a man called as they approached. A couple
dozen people mingled in the hallway. “Tramer,” the new man said, nodding at Leonard. Leonard inclined his head in greeting.

  “Hey, Wilson,” McGinnis cried. “Did you see the game?”

  “It was awesome.”

  “Guess who was there?”

  Much to Leonard’s relief, McGinnis dominated the rest of the conversation, bragging about his football tickets. This gave Leonard a chance to compose himself and observe the behavior of his coworkers.

  Several elevators opened simultaneously. Leonard, Wilson, and McGinnis entered the closest one, along with five others. Leonard made his way to the back so he could follow McGinnis. Since his new friend had offered to usher him to the coffee pot, Leonard assumed they were headed to the same floor. If McGinnis could lead him off the elevator and past any security checks along the way, it would make Leonard’s journey a lot easier.

  A woman near the front pressed nine and swiped her card. The man next to her pressed three. He also swiped his card. McGinnis chose floor five and did the same. Leonard stood back. Wilson did not swipe his card, so presumably he would get off on one of the already selected floors.

  They reached the third floor. Three people exited and the doors closed swiftly, barely allowing them to pass through. Leonard wished he could linger in the elevator, riding it up and down until the end of the day.

  The doors flew open regardless of Leonard’s fantasy, and he exited along with McGinnis and Wilson, hoping it was the right thing to do.

  “I’ll see you then,” Wilson said as he headed down the hallway to the left. McGinnis turned right and Leonard followed him. No incredulous reaction. Things looked promising.