“Yeah. Like the system knew I was sitting in that chair.”
Her jaw dropped.
“I don’t know how they do it,” he said fretfully. “I don’t carry a phone. Is it in my watch?”
“Your watch,” Alina cried, noticing his bare wrist. “You never go anywhere without it.”
“Maybe I should start.” He rubbed the band of skin, white from lack of sun. “And then there’s the question of my briefcase. Why do I carry a near empty briefcase to and from work every day? What’s the point?”
“I, uh…I don’t know.”
“Could they really count on me bringing that stupid thing every day? And what about on weekends?”
Alina touched him on the shoulder. “Maybe there’s a chip in your DID pass.”
“It’s not just a chip. It has to be some kind of GPS transmitter. A transmitter wouldn’t fit on an ID.” He shook his head. “And the thing is…”
“Yes?”
“I think everyone has a tracking number. I saw several numbers next to all the names I looked at today, even yours.”
Alina’s eyes grew wide. “Did they all have red buttons?” A loud crash on the second floor startled her and she jumped back into the shadows.
Leonard glanced up to discern the origin of the noise. Only one window glowed. Light and dark patches shimmered on the walls of the room beyond the curtainless frame. Laughter followed and two shapes swayed as if dancing. Leonard relaxed and steered his mind back to Alina’s previous question. “Does everyone have a red button?” He shrugged. “I don’t know. In that system, I only had time to look up my own name. I can investigate tomorrow.”
“I’ll bet it’s your DID pass,” Alina said confidently. “Technology advances every day. They make things smaller and smaller—”
“Not everyone has a DID pass.”
“But everyone has a National ID, even if they don’t work for the government.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” Alina pulled an ID out of her front pocket. “And you’re supposed to have them on your person at all times.” She presented her Department of Health ID. It was hard to make out the details, but it appeared to be similar to Leonard’s DID pass.
“Why don’t I have to carry mine?”
“I presume you do. You just don’t leave it laying around the house.”
Leonard fumbled in his back pocket and produced his wallet. He had not hidden his ID when he got home that evening but, according to Alina, the other Leonard refused to keep it in his wallet. “So I sneak upstairs and grab it when I go out?” He peered inside his wallet to verify the location of the DID pass.
“You rarely go out, Leonard. Except for work.”
“Oh.” He felt as if the alternate-reality-Leonard was almost as lonely and pathetic as the one who spent his life devoted to the pursuit of a pointless time machine.
Driving away wistful thoughts, Leonard reiterated, “It would be too big to fit on an ID.” He frowned, pondering the possibilities. “On the other hand, perhaps you’re right. Maybe they’ve developed transmitters the size of an RFID. Then they could hide them in an ID, no problem.”
Alina furrowed her brow. “What’s an RFID?”
“Radio frequency identification.” He flipped his belt around to expose a copper square the size of a dime with a coiled pattern. “They use them on merchandise.”
Alina examined her own belt. “Perhaps they are tracking us through our clothing.”
Leonard shook his head. “The National ID makes way more sense. Otherwise they’d have to reprogram the RFID every time someone bought a pair of jeans.”
Alina suddenly shivered as if a spider had dropped from her hair into her blouse. “I want to leave.” She grabbed Leonard’s hand and pulled him into the street. The streetlamp seemed to buzz in rhythm with her erratic movements. Alina shook her head violently as if willing the spider to fly off. “They may know where I am, but they can’t stop me from moving.”
Leonard resisted her pull. “Slow down. We can’t run away from this.”
“You can. Build your time machine.” Marching away, she inadvertently kicked an empty soda can lying in the street. She nearly jumped out of her skin.
“Shh, shh. I’m not going anywhere.” He followed briskly. “Not without you.”
“And not without the Watchers tracking us.”
A dog in a nearby window barked madly, further agitating Leonard’s nerves. The dog’s owner screamed obscenities. Alina ran, holding her hands over her ears. Just before she reached the border between the Guilder Project and the open space, Leonard caught up with her, cutting her off by standing in her path. Taking her hands, he said softly, “Let’s test it.”
He allowed her to escort him out of the neighborhood and into the open space, exiting the government ghetto exactly where they had entered previously that evening.
“How?”
“Tell me when you go to lunch and where you’re going and I’ll see if you show up as a moving red dot.” He sounded slightly cheerful as if proposing a playful game of hide and seek. “Maybe we can determine whether or not the transmitters are in the ID passes or the purses-slash-briefcases or the clothing—”
“You want me to take off my clothing in front of the hospital?”
“Do you have any old clothing you bought before the National Emergency?”
She nodded.
“So wear something retro tomorrow. And no jewelry.”
She rolled her eyes, urging him to follow as she made her way home.
“Come on, Alina.” Leonard quickened his gait to match her pace. “When do you take lunch?”
“I don’t really leave for lunch.”
“Make an exception then. What’s your favorite restaurant within walking distance?”
She shook her head. “There aren’t any restaurants near the hospital anymore.”
“That’s ridiculous. All those people visiting loved ones? Restaurants in a hospital district should be hugely successful.”
“No.”
“Don’t tell me. The hospital is surrounded by government housing projects.”
“No. Well, yes, there are some, but that’s not what I’m talking about.”
“What then?” Leonard demanded.
“Things don’t work the way they used to. People don’t just open a restaurant.”
“You’re saying there are no restaurants? Bullshit.”
“Not where they’re not deemed necessary.”
“Oh, come on. People need to eat.”
“We eat at the cafeteria.”
“Everyone?”
“Pretty much, yeah. Typically, I grab something and bring it back to my office. I don’t like socializing there anymore.” She eased her way through the bushes looking left and right before emerging on the sidewalk.
“You should just bring your lunch,” he suggested as he joined her. “In fact, that reminds me. Tomorrow I want to bring my lunch.” He took several steps toward their home, but his wife did not follow.
Turning back he saw Alina, her arms folded and her eyes narrowed. “We can’t afford that, Leonard.”
He cocked his head. “I can’t bring my lunch?”
“You never bring your lunch. You eat at the base. I eat at the hospital. The kids eat at school.”
“We don’t have enough food to—”
“Have you noticed what I’ve put on the dinner table the past few nights?”
Leonard looked up at the stars, recalling the meals they shared. “It’s been great.” He counted off on his fingers. “Meatloaf, fajitas, chili. And we had pancakes Sunday morning.”
She marched toward him, revising his list, spitting out the words as she approached. “A pathetically small meatloaf with watered-down gravy. Fajitas with no vegetables and half a tortilla each. And canned chili with dry bread and moldy cheese. Furthermore, did you fail to notice there were no eggs or milk when you tried to make pancakes?”
“We’re poor?” Leonard asked, s
hocked that given his position and the respect afforded him he was not well enough off to provide for his family.
“We’re doing better than some.”
“Some people don’t eat?”
“Pretty much everyone eats, Leonard, unless they’re running from the law.”
“That’s wonderful, that’s—”
“Except that no one eats much and no one eats well. There’s next to nothing on the grocery store shelves.”
“But still—”
“You think that’s nice?” she quipped, tightening her already closed-off posture. “If it requires a colossal totalitarian state that spies on its citizens, steals children, sterilizes women, and closes borders to achieve this utopia then I think I’d rather go hungry.”
Leonard sighed.
“For the time being,” she snapped, “you’ll have to make due with what I put on the table.”
“I love your meals.”
“Good. Love them. While your loving them you can put up with the DID cafeteria food, or we’re going to have even smaller meals with less variety.”
He consented sheepishly.
Eventually, she unfolded her arms and put one hand in his. “I’m sorry. It’s just that sometimes you seem like such an alien.”
They walked in silence for several minutes making their way home. Leonard, lost in his thoughts as they approached their yard, muttered, “I wish I were.”
Alina patted him gently on the arm and leaned into his body as they sauntered up the walkway. The scent of Alina’s skin crept into Leonard’s mind, chasing away the disheartening images of zombie-faced Watchers and pulsing red dots. He fantasized about whisking the love of his life upstairs, lounging on the bed, sharing intimacies in an elusive corner of untainted privacy. A warm sensation traveled up his body and nearly intoxicated him before an anguished cry from the Tramers’ backyard yanked him back to reality.
“Leave me alone, Garrett!”
It was Natalia.
Chapter Fourteen
Alina jolted at the sound of her estranged son’s name. She ran toward the front gate, but Leonard grabbed both of her shoulders and held her back.
“No,” he whispered harshly in her ear. Fearing that Garrett would bombard them with another onslaught of verbal abuse, Leonard wished to spare his wife a reprise of Saturday night’s tirade. “Let’s go around back and see what’s going on. Stay in the shadows.” He led her to the side. “Don’t let him see you.”
Opening the back gate as gingerly as possible, Alina and Leonard tiptoed into the backyard and hid behind the oak tree. From that vantage point, they had a fairly clear view of Garrett and Natalia standing by the bushes. Natalia appeared even more panic-stricken than she had at dinner. Garrett, his back to Leonard and Alina, held a small plastic bag in his right hand.
“Damn you, Natalia,” Garrett shouted. “I can’t believe you would betray us like this.” He threw the bag at the terrified girl, smacking her straight in the face.
Natalia screamed and sank to the ground. “Leave me alone.” She tossed the bag aside as if it were a filthy rag.
“My sister. My own sister. Fucking running solo. Did you think you could hide this forever?”
“Go away.”
“It’s your duty, Natalia. Is this how you show your gratitude to the Brigade?”
No longer diminutive, Natalia glared at her brother in utter disbelief. “My gratitude? For what?” She stood slowly, her hands clenched.
“We’re creating a whole new world here.” He spoke passionately. “We are the stewards of The New Direction. It’s an honor. You…” He tempered his tone, speaking through his teeth. “You are a traitor.”
Natalia held her voice steady, clearly intimidated but trying not to show it. “I didn’t sign up to create a whole new world, Garrett. I didn’t sign up, period. The Brigade is your obsession. I never wanted any part of it.”
He spat on the ground near her. “Why me? My sister is a soloist. And that thing you call a mother is a counterrevolutionary, I’m sure of it. I’ve notified the Watchers on several occasions—”
“You ratted on Mom?”
“It’s my duty to report suspicious behavior.” He sulked. “Only those pinheads didn’t take me seriously. They think I’m a teenager with a vendetta.”
Informant is a relative of the subject, so testimony is in conflict of interest.
“I am so glad I’m moving into CAPERS Housing Project 513. What a relief to be rid of you all.”
Natalia folded her arms. “Well, go then.”
Garrett chuckled — a low, sinister laugh. He stepped forward and, with a swift, menacing gesture, cupped her cheek in his hand. Her eyes flew open wide, the familiar look of terror plundering her confidence.
“Not so fast. I’ve already committed you.”
“You can’t commit me.”
He slapped her face. “I can do whatever the hell I want. You’re an L-5. A confirmed L-5. He’s an L-4. Do you realize how rare you are?” he cooed, touching her again, almost incestuously. The hostility in his voice had all but vanished, yet Natalia flinched and took a step back.
He continued to press in on her. “The Brigade is not going to allow you to renege on that commitment.”
“Make your own commitment then. You’re an L-5, too.”
“I already nailed your friend. They’ll let me know when I can be of use again.”
Natalia grimaced and looked at the ground. “Just leave me alone and go away.”
“You don’t want to end up taking classes with the Inbreeds, do you?”
“I’d rather.”
“Clearly you failed your political education classes.”
“Actually I got all A’s,” she said smugly.
“Competitive, too. You really disgust me.”
“I could say the same.”
“Be there at 4:00 p.m. on Friday. You know where.”
“You can’t make me.” Her voice betrayed doubt.
Losing his temper again, Garrett shouted, “You know, you just may find yourself contracting a spontaneous case of CARS.”
“I tested negative.”
Garrett guffawed. “Dumbshit. Haven’t you noticed how many false negatives have been discovered lately?” He sneered. “Why do you think they’re retesting? I know of at least three kids who were relieved of the burden of one or both of their parents in the last month.”
“What are you saying, Garrett?”
“Man, you’re stupid. You are an Inbreed, aren’t you?”
“They are infecting people with CARS?”
“They don’t have to. Just ship ’em to the infirmary. Who’s going to know?”
Natalia trembled but attempted to appear indignant. “You think you can convince someone to send me to the infirmary?”
“It wouldn’t take a lot of persuading. Turning in counterrevolutionary relatives is in vogue these days.” He grinned. “Friday at four, or you’re toast.” Garrett made a cutting motion across his neck and slipped out the front gate.
Natalia’s knees buckled and she fell to the ground. Alina leapt forward, but Leonard held her back, hushing her. “A moment longer. If Garrett sees us, we’re all going to the infirmary. We still have hope now.”
“Hope for what?” she spat.
Not expecting this response, Leonard faltered. He merely spoke the words of comfort as a formality. He didn’t have a clue what was going on or what he would do to untangle the mess. Lightheaded, he stumbled backward, losing his grip on Alina. She took advantage of his lapse in concentration and rushed to Natalia’s side.
“Sweetheart. I’m so sorry. Garrett’s turned into a monster. Did he hurt you?” She gently examined Natalia’s cheek.
Natalia gaped as her father approached. “You…you were here?”
Leonard nodded.
“And you didn’t stop him?”
“We…uh…”
“It’s okay,” Natalia said. “He would have had the Feds on you for something withi
n twenty-four hours. He’s become quite connected since he joined the Youth Brigade.”
“Yeah,” Leonard acknowledged, a knot forming in his stomach. It was bad enough that he sat idle watching Garrett abuse Natalia. It was another matter altogether that she felt the need to console her father when it was obvious that she was the one in need of comfort.
His eyes drifted to the bag near the bushes. It resembled the bag he saw Natalia sneaking out of the house. In fact, they stood very near the bushes in which Natalia had stashed the bag last night. Leonard’s fingers itched to touch it, but his apprehension left him immobile.
Alina put her arm around Natalia and led her to the house. She settled her daughter on the couch tenderly and turned on the television before joining her. Leonard looked around, eventually deciding upon the recliner to the left of the couch.
He cleared his throat and tried to sound important. “We’ll get you out of whatever mess Garrett’s got you tangled up in.” He paused, allowing his words to sink in. “But you’ll have to be straight with us. What the hell is going on?”
“Leonard—”
“What is Garrett doing to you? What are you burying behind the house?”
Alina turned, puzzled. “What?”
“You want to know what I’m burying?” Natalia asked, incredulous.
“Yes.”
“You want to know what’s in that box you found in my room?”
“Damn straight.” Leonard caught a hint of authoritative confidence in his voice, and he was quite pleased with himself for setting a fatherly tone.
“I’ll show you.” Natalia leapt from the couch and raced up the stairs.
“Leonard. What’s gotten into you?” Alina stood, intending to follow her daughter, but a moment later Natalia reappeared carrying the box, tears pouring down her face. She clutched the box protectively, looking helpless and terrified. In a burst of anger, she threw the box on the ground.
“The box, Dad. There’s the stupid box.”
Alina grabbed the remote and turned up the volume.
A woman’s voice enthusiastically declared, “The White House garden is especially lovely this summer. Look at the vibrant greens and reds just bursting with joy.”
Leonard tuned out the programming and focused on Natalia’s box. It reeked of citrus. He quashed a wave of nausea as he fumbled with the combination lock.
Nine-Tenths Page 13
