Read Online Nine-Tenths by Meira Pentermann - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Meira Pentermann
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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;
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;
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