mates are as highly placed as Nordquist and Carlson.”
“That seems like a hole in the security net.”
“Security is the art of the possible, Jack. Make conditions too onerous for the personnel here and they’ll find jobs elsewhere, ones that pay better with less discomfort. Issuing visitors’ badges to spouses is a courtesy. It makes life easier for employees and their families. If one of them needs the car to go shopping or pick up the kids, they can drop their spouses off and pick them up after work as needed.
“But I’ll tell you this. Her husband may head Perseus, but I guarantee that not even Sylvia Nordquist could get past the guard station in the lobby. The badge gets them on Corona Drive and in the parking lots but not in the buildings.” As he spoke, Lewis’s gaze remained fastened on the woman, not looking away.
Nordquist soon wound down, running out of energy.Going from agitated to resentful. He dug a wallet out of his pants pocket, thumbed through it, and fished out what looked like a credit card.
Sylvia Nordquist extended a red-nailed hand palm-up to receive it. With a deft movement, she made the card disappear inside her handbag. She leaned forward and bent down to peck a kiss on her husband’s bulging forehead and got back in the car.
The Escalade drove past him and headed out of the parking lot, rolling past the gate guards to turn right on Corona and drive away. Nordquist stood watching the machine disappear.
When it was gone he turned and trudged up the stairs, thoughtful, self-absorbed.
He took a cigarette holder from an inside breast pocket, took out a cigarette, placed it in the corner of his mouth. He fished around in various pockets looking for a lighter or a match, coming up empty. He still hadn’t found one when he reached the top of the stairs.
His path took him past the two others; he glanced up, noticing them. Lewis reached out, a lighter in hand. “Light?”
“Please,” Nordquist said curtly.
Lewis wielded the lighter, igniting the other’s cigarette while Nordquist puffed away. Lewis shook out a cigarette from a pack, stuck it between his lips. He offered one to Jack, who declined with a shake of the head. Lewis set fire to the tip of the cigarette, took a drag, vented smoke.
Nordquist smoked in compulsive, joyless fashion, taking no evident pleasure in it. He began to slow down, taking more time between puffs. He looked up, eyes glittering deep in shadowed sockets, looking first Jack and then Lewis in the face.
A cynical, bitter twist came to his lips, to the corner of his mouth that didn’t have a cigarette in it. “Either of you married men?” he asked.
“Yes,” Jack said, not knowing where this was going.
Lewis shook his head. “I’m between ex-wives.”
“I know I’m married. That’s what my bank statement keeps telling me,” Nordquist said. “My wife spends. She burns through money like Medusa goes through metal plate. I’m called away from the important postfiring debriefing for an emergency.
“Why? Because Sylvia is on yet another shopping spree and she discovers she’s maxed out on her cards and needs to borrow one of mine. Borrow , perhaps, being an artless term because it implies an eventual repayment.”
“It could be worse,” Lewis said. “You should see what I pay in alimony.”
Nordquist glanced down, noticing that the cigarette had burned down to near the tips of his fingertips. “Having attended to the important business of the day, I may now return to my casual and insignificant chores as Project Director, as Sylvia has made clear she regards them. From the exalted perspective of the eighteen months of community college she managed to complete before dropping out. Good afternoon, gentlemen.” Nordquist went inside the building.
Lewis shook his head, bemused. “Wow, that is one bitter guy.”
“They say Einstein couldn’t get along with his wife,” Jack said.
Lewis looked interested. “Is that true?”
“That’s
“That seems like a hole in the security net.”
“Security is the art of the possible, Jack. Make conditions too onerous for the personnel here and they’ll find jobs elsewhere, ones that pay better with less discomfort. Issuing visitors’ badges to spouses is a courtesy. It makes life easier for employees and their families. If one of them needs the car to go shopping or pick up the kids, they can drop their spouses off and pick them up after work as needed.
“But I’ll tell you this. Her husband may head Perseus, but I guarantee that not even Sylvia Nordquist could get past the guard station in the lobby. The badge gets them on Corona Drive and in the parking lots but not in the buildings.” As he spoke, Lewis’s gaze remained fastened on the woman, not looking away.
Nordquist soon wound down, running out of energy.Going from agitated to resentful. He dug a wallet out of his pants pocket, thumbed through it, and fished out what looked like a credit card.
Sylvia Nordquist extended a red-nailed hand palm-up to receive it. With a deft movement, she made the card disappear inside her handbag. She leaned forward and bent down to peck a kiss on her husband’s bulging forehead and got back in the car.
The Escalade drove past him and headed out of the parking lot, rolling past the gate guards to turn right on Corona and drive away. Nordquist stood watching the machine disappear.
When it was gone he turned and trudged up the stairs, thoughtful, self-absorbed.
He took a cigarette holder from an inside breast pocket, took out a cigarette, placed it in the corner of his mouth. He fished around in various pockets looking for a lighter or a match, coming up empty. He still hadn’t found one when he reached the top of the stairs.
His path took him past the two others; he glanced up, noticing them. Lewis reached out, a lighter in hand. “Light?”
“Please,” Nordquist said curtly.
Lewis wielded the lighter, igniting the other’s cigarette while Nordquist puffed away. Lewis shook out a cigarette from a pack, stuck it between his lips. He offered one to Jack, who declined with a shake of the head. Lewis set fire to the tip of the cigarette, took a drag, vented smoke.
Nordquist smoked in compulsive, joyless fashion, taking no evident pleasure in it. He began to slow down, taking more time between puffs. He looked up, eyes glittering deep in shadowed sockets, looking first Jack and then Lewis in the face.
A cynical, bitter twist came to his lips, to the corner of his mouth that didn’t have a cigarette in it. “Either of you married men?” he asked.
“Yes,” Jack said, not knowing where this was going.
Lewis shook his head. “I’m between ex-wives.”
“I know I’m married. That’s what my bank statement keeps telling me,” Nordquist said. “My wife spends. She burns through money like Medusa goes through metal plate. I’m called away from the important postfiring debriefing for an emergency.
“Why? Because Sylvia is on yet another shopping spree and she discovers she’s maxed out on her cards and needs to borrow one of mine. Borrow , perhaps, being an artless term because it implies an eventual repayment.”
“It could be worse,” Lewis said. “You should see what I pay in alimony.”
Nordquist glanced down, noticing that the cigarette had burned down to near the tips of his fingertips. “Having attended to the important business of the day, I may now return to my casual and insignificant chores as Project Director, as Sylvia has made clear she regards them. From the exalted perspective of the eighteen months of community college she managed to complete before dropping out. Good afternoon, gentlemen.” Nordquist went inside the building.
Lewis shook his head, bemused. “Wow, that is one bitter guy.”
“They say Einstein couldn’t get along with his wife,” Jack said.
Lewis looked interested. “Is that true?”
“That’s