“And look. There’s the First Lady carrying a scrumptious basket of fruit. A gift from a visiting dignitary? Perhaps a gesture of gratitude from a devoted citizen?”
Leonard’s gag reflex nearly triumphed.
“Give it to me,” Natalia said, standing over his shoulder. She wrenched the box out of his hands, placed it on the coffee table, and fiddled with the combination lock. Leonard’s heart pounded. Swishing her arms dramatically, Natalia stood and scattered the contents onto the ground. White paper bundles tumbled out, crackling as they interacted on their journey to the floor. Squares and cylinders. Leonard reached down and grabbed one of the cylinders. It was like a very small popsicle with no stick. Making a small tear in the paper he took a peek. All at once, he repelled the object away from him across the room.
Natalia’s sobs intensified.
Alina put her hands on her hips and glowered at her husband. “Really, Leonard. Grow up.” She turned to her daughter. “Is this what you’ve been hiding? Oh, sweetheart.”
Natalia turned away abruptly and stomped on one of the paper bundles. Her tears gave way to rage.
“You don’t have to be ashamed,” Alina said sweetly. “You’re becoming a young lady. It’s beautiful.”
“Are you kidding me? This?” She pointed at her abdomen. “This is not beautiful. It’s a curse.”
“I know, sometimes it feels that way, but—”
“You don’t know,” she shouted, her voice cracking. “You don’t know anything, Mom!”
“Are you worried that I’ll be mad?” She picked up a cylinder and smiled. “These are from my smuggled stash, aren’t they?”
Natalia nodded.
“I was saving those for you. Who did you think they were for? I haven’t needed them for a number of years now. I’m glad you found them. They are a rare luxury.” She reached down and held up a square bundle. “I would have bought you the pads though. Where did you get the money to—?”
Leonard broke in. “You’re hiding tampons in the backyard?”
Both women turned and glared at him.
“I mean, can’t you just flush them or put them in the regular garbage?”
“It’s kind of hard to slip tampons unnoticed into the elaborate garbage ritual we have going on over there.” She gestured in the direction of the kitchen.
“But, sweetheart,” her mother said. “You have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I’m not ashamed,” she cried. “I’m…”
“It’s okay.”
“I’m afraid,” she said, barely audible above the White-House-infatuated commentator on the television.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of. You should have come to me. I’d have shown you everything. I’d have bought you the supplies. I would have loved to share this with you.”
“But then, Garrett…” She gasped, swiftly taking in a long overdue breath of air.
Leonard sat on the table. “What did Garrett do?”
“He…he…” She sat down. “You have no idea what’s going on.”
Leonard touched her arm. “Then explain it to me. This has something to do with the Youth Brigade? You have to join the Youth Brigade now that you’re menstruating?”
She sighed. “The Youth Brigade is like the elite circle. You see, on the bottom, there’s the Inbreeds. Sorry, the L-1s and L-2s. Then come the Melting Pots. After that there’s us, the regular L-Plusses, and then there’s the Youth Brigade. Only L-Plusses can join the YB.”
“You’ve totally lost me.”
“You didn’t have any L-Stats or segregated education when you were growing up?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She sighed. “Mom has Italian grandparents as well as one French grandfather and a Brazilian grandmother. They met in Paris.”
“Right,” Leonard and Alina concurred in unison.
“Dad. Your Mom is a second-generation Irish immigrant and your father came directly to this country from Germany.”
“Correct.”
“That makes me an L-5. A confirmed L-5 because we have family records. Not just a generic American Melting Pot.”
Alina and Leonard glanced at one another in bewilderment.
“The Youth Brigade believes that the future of humanity lies in careful genetic blending. That the human race will evolve rapidly, producing more intelligent and beautiful people, as long as we merge genes of radically different origins in a very deliberate and precise fashion.”
Leonard’s head was spinning. Natalia’s mature words, delivered professionally and purposefully, confounded him. A sickly sensation brewed in his gut.
“Pairing Melting Pots is not very efficient, because you could just be mixing the same genes over and over again, stirring an aimless potion. Pairing L-1s and L-2s borders on revolting to some of the fanatics. So when a confirmed L-Plus is paired with another confirmed L-Plus of a different heritage, the militants are in ecstasy. In my case, Garrett committed me to an L-4 of an Asian-African background. I don’t know all the details, but I know he’s a confirmed L-4.”
“What on God’s green earth are you talking about, Natalia?” Alina asked in despair.
“You still don’t get it?”
Alina opened her mouth as if to say something but the words never came. Leonard ran a hand through his hair.
Natalia laughed — a frustrated, alienated snigger. “You’re serious? You don’t understand why I wouldn’t want Garrett to find out that I’m having my period? Man, maybe we really are Inbreeds. This is gaga.”
Natalia’s voice faded as Leonard sluggishly fished the information out of a bowl of mush that was his brain. He regarded the pieces thoughtfully before reassembling them in horror. The sickly feeling in his gut nearly resulted in a spontaneous disgorge.
“What are you talking about?” Alina cried, although her voice betrayed the same essence of revelation and revulsion.
Natalia stomped on the tampons one by one. “Isn’t it obvious?” Tears spilled down her cheeks. She sank to the floor and put her head in her hands. Then, meek and vulnerable, she peered into her mother’s eyes and whispered, “They want to breed me.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Remember when the First Lady gave birth to Dempsey? What a joyous day for the nation.”
Alina held Natalia in her arms rocking her slowly, stroking her hair.
Leonard paced relentlessly. “I promise you, Natalia. I won’t let that L-4 character touch you.”
Silence.
“Or Garrett for that matter. If he trespasses on our property again, I’m going to…I’m going to—”
“You’re going to keep your cool,” Alina said. “From the sound of it, Garrett could land us in an infirmary in a heartbeat.”
Leonard’s shoulders slumped.
“It’s okay, Dad,” Natalia whispered hoarsely. “I’ll go through with it.”
“No!”
“I have no choice.”
Leonard’s voice raised a pitch. “I refuse to believe that there are no options. And I can’t even stomach the thought of someone…doing that to you.”
“Would you rather we all end up in the infirmary? I imagine a lot worse happens there.”
Leonard collapsed on the couch.
“Perhaps Mom can sterilize me before Friday.”
“Sweetheart,” Alina protested.
“Please, Mom. It’s the least you can do.”
“I don’t have the tools or the facilities—”
“Can’t you just use the sterilants?”
“What?”
“The sterilants they give the Inbreeds and the Melting Pots. In their water.”
“Even if I had the kind of sterilants you’re talking about, we would need more time…” Alina screwed up her face in disgust. “They’re sterilizing the children at your school?”
“Just the Inbreeds and Melting Pots. They drink from a different water supply. They’re useless for procreation.”
Alina gaped,
staring at her daughter in disbelief.
“What? It’s true. Saves on abortions,” Natalia said matter-of-factly.
“But I thought—” Alina began. “I thought you didn’t believe in the Youth Brigade’s propaganda.”
“It’s not just the YB. The teachers, too. They call it The New Direction. The Inbreeds and the Melting Pots don’t know any better—”
“Stop! Do you realize what you’re saying?”
Behind Natalia’s brown eyes, Leonard saw anguish, the intensity of which had no right to be present behind the eyes of anyone below the age of thirty. The young girl had been through more in her short lifetime than Leonard had in his fifty-plus years. He swallowed involuntarily as a burning sensation moved up his esophagus.
Natalia’s head slumped forward and she mumbled at the ground. “I don’t mean they’re stupid. I just mean they don’t know they’re being sterilized. They have a different curriculum. They don’t know about The New Direction.”
“What do they learn?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Math, reading, political education. They certainly don’t study eugenics.”
“And you’re taught that you are genetically superior while your classmates are being sterilized?” Alina’s voice quavered.
Natalia’s head shot up. “‘You’re superior. It’s your duty. The Inbreeds and the Melting Pots cannot help what they are, but you can build a better future for humanity. Only a soloist would deny his link to the community.’ That’s the kind of crap they throw at us all day long.”
“I’m sure that’s very addictive to some,” Leonard said, thinking about Garrett.
Alina pressed on. “And the Youth Brigade trashes the idea of family?”
“Not just the YB. They cover that in all classes. The Inbreeds and Melting Pots, too.”
“How long have you been learning about Inbreeds and Melting Pots?” Leonard asked hesitantly.
“Since second grade.”
Alina furrowed her brow. “Before the National Emergency?”
“When they started numbering the schools.”
“In the classrooms?” Alina pulled her hand through her hair anxiously. “Adult teachers trash the idea of family?”
“I told you already. Yes, the teachers. ‘No marriage. It destabilizes society.’ Kids are already getting used to the idea of babies going immediately into Day Care Facilities. And to us L-Pluses, they preach, ‘Multiple partners will reduce attachment and maximize the breeding possibilities.’” In a nasal tone, she added, “‘Smarter, healthier, and prettier children will enable the human race to evolve to the next stage.’”
“And everyone just goes along as if that’s normal?”
Natalia rolled her eyes. “Give it a couple of years, and it will all be normal. You are the ones who aren’t normal,” she spat. Then her tone softened. “I don’t know what people think on the inside, Mom. No one’s going to raise their hand in political education and say, ‘Excuse me, but I’d like to have a family.’” She shook her head in disgust. “You’re clueless.”
Alina pulled a hand through her hair and stared at the ceiling. “Sweetheart, I think you need to rest.”
“How am I supposed to rest?” Natalia cried, her anxiety escalating.
“One of the benefits of being a doctor is that I managed to gather an illegal stash of sleeping pills.” Alina jumped up and disappeared.
“Nestled in the Rocky Mountains, the Colorado Infirmary is a place of peace and reclamation for the CARS-infected patient,” a voice on the television explained cheerfully. “Sedatives repress the violent outbursts. Here is a group of patients knitting in the sun. A guard stands by for their protection.”
Leonard rolled his head listlessly in the direction of the voice. On the television, a pastoral scene depicted three men in white pajamas sitting on the grass, fumbling with knitting needles. An armed man in a gray uniform leaned against a tree to their right. Mountain peaks with a touch of snow towered in the background — a hint of the majestic mocked the ordinary men now reduced to lethargic imbeciles.
The television screen abruptly flickered three times with a bright green flash. Leonard jolted and straightened his posture.
“We interrupt this program to bring you a public service message from the Department of Environmental Engineering.”
A neon green circle containing a stylistic dolphin and the letters DEE appeared on the screen.
“Be on the lookout for a bright green notice in your mailbox. You will receive this notice two weeks prior to the dates that DEE electricians will be in your neighborhood. Citizens must call the number listed at the bottom to schedule an installation and refitting appointment. Failure to schedule an appointment during the specified dates will lead to fines up to five thousand dollars. Deterring DEE representatives in any manner is a federal crime and could lead to imprisonment.”
Leonard remembered the Stasi execution plan. WLN engineers were going door-to-door refitting homes with energy efficient lighting…and cameras. Clearly, the former was public knowledge; the latter cleverly concealed.
“During your appointment, you can expect electricians to remain at the premises for five to ten hours, depending upon the number of rooms in your home and the condition or existence of current ceiling fixtures. All ceiling fixtures will be refitted. If you have no ceiling fixtures, they will be installed at no charge.
“Once the refitting has been completed, citizens must surrender all remaining incandescent lamps in the household. You may submit an application to purchase government-approved, energy efficient lamps at DEE.gov. Most households, however, should not need additional lamps. DEE ceiling fixtures provide enough light to brighten any room.
The dolphin logo faded and a living room containing a joyful family, illuminated by atrocious fluorescent lighting, appeared on the screen. The youngest boy, perhaps five years old, stepped forward and cooed in a voice not unlike Tiny Tim or Oliver Twist.
“Energy efficient lighting. Saving the earth one family at a time.”
The picture faded and the previous program resumed.
“This ought to do it,” Alina said, waltzing toward her daughter with a glass of water and a white pill. Addressing Leonard, she said, “I don’t normally medicate my children, but I think it is important for her to get some sleep.”
“Mom,” Natalia whined.
“Please.”
The girl obliged. She swallowed the pill and finished the glass of water before returning it to her mother. They embraced. Natalia paused to give Leonard a brief one-armed hug. He kissed her on the head. Then she wandered upstairs.
After Natalia left, Leonard and Alina settled on the couch, speechless and numb. Alina glanced over her shoulder several times apprehensively, seeming to be concerned that Natalia might reappear. Eventually, she breathed a sigh of relief.
“We have to get out of the city,” she whispered.
“But how—?”
“I have a plan.”
Chapter Sixteen
Alina led Leonard to the garage and popped the trunk of their car, an old silver Toyota. She made a sweeping gesture with her arm, indicating the empty trunk.
Leonard threw his hands in the air. “This is your plan? Jump in the car and go?”
“It’s not that easy,” she whispered, perching herself on the edge of the open trunk. “We can leave for the day at the Western Gate, I-70 and C-470—”
“For the day?”
“During daylight hours. At the Gate, the Department of Transportation and Safety measures the gas in your tank. They drain it to an allotted amount. The driver loses the surplus, no matter how many gallons, so you have to be really careful.”
“Why measure the gas?”
“So the travelers only have enough gas to make it to Idaho Springs. If DTS estimates the car’s mileage correctly, the traveler should arrive in Idaho Springs on fumes.” She pointed at the Toyota. “This car is rated for approximately thirty miles per gallon. They would proba
bly allow me a little less than a gallon at the Gate. That’s cutting it close if there’s traffic, but nearly no one goes to Idaho Springs anymore. It’s not so pretty. The old town is mostly boarded up.”
“Is that where the infirmary is?”
“The infirmary is farther west. I’m not exactly sure how far.”
“People are allowed to drive as far as Idaho Springs and that’s it?” Leonard asked in disbelief.
“Yeah. And they have to return before nightfall or the Department of Transportation and Safety puts out an APB.”
Frustrated, Leonard tried to subdue his annoyance. “So what good is all this? Your empty trunk. Are you planning to put Natalia in there and blow through the Gate with a full tank of gas?”
“Heavens no.” She held a finger over her lips.
“Then what?” he whispered.
“I’ve been saving gas rations. It’s difficult because we are allowed very few rations per month. We get five gallons.”
Leonard scoffed. “Five gallons?”
“It’s about enough to get to the bus depot and back fifteen times. We have to take the bus on the other side of the Guilder Project at least five days a month. If we want to make other trips, we need to ration further.”
He whistled.
“Shh.”
“You really think they bug the garage?”
“I have no idea.”
Leonard looked at the ceiling.
Alina touched his cheek, guiding his face back to hers. “Over the past year I’ve convinced you to take the bus as many days as possible with the promise that I’m saving gas rations for your birthday trip with Natalia. Just a few gallons, I told you. You never did the math. Or, at least, you never let on that you noticed how many more gallons I saved than were necessary.”
“Am I supposed to take her to Idaho Springs?”
“Yes, and she wants to see the borders, especially the Northern Wall and the Eastern Gate. She thinks we don’t have quite enough gas to make it to Castle Rock, the Southern Wall—”
“Wait, wait, wait. These borders. They’re around Denver? Like physical borders?”
Nine-Tenths Page 14
