The Inner City Read Free Page A

another curtain, with a guard on the other side. She bunches right up with the women ahead of her, almost stepping on their shoes, and she nods briskly. The guard grabs her.
    “Your ID?” he asks.
    “Job interview,” she says. She opens her folder and flashes the letterhead. “See? Harry Biskabit. I have an appointment.”
    “You’re supposed to have a temporary pass.”
    She rises to the occasion, scowling and huffing a little. “Now,” she says, coldly, “how do I get a pass if I can’t go in to get a pass?”
    He blinks at her. “By mail?” he asks.
    “You know they don’t send them by mail. I was supposed to go in with those people you separated me from.” She waves at the disappearing backs. “Hey, Juanita, you forgot me!” Then she pouts. “Now what?” She sighs in exasperation. “Can you call someone?”
    He looks a little uncertain. “I just have instructions, you know. I don’t need to justify everything I do, especially when it’s regulation. But I do have discretion.”
    She smiles, suddenly friendly. “I’ve always admired discretion,” she says. She’s trying to mimic some sassy movie heroine from some gumshoe movie. She’s getting a little jolt out of all the pretense.
    He grins. “If you don’t have an ID by tomorrow I’m gonna have to call in some backup.”
    “I understand,” she says, giving him big eyes and then slipping by. “I’ll make sure I get a good picture.”
    She takes a deep breath and keeps walking, fighting the impulse to slap someone on the back. She made it in! Of course it’s only a first step. She stops in the hallway to poke through her handbag, as if searching for a room number. When some more people come through, she falls in behind them.
    They walk down a half-flight of steps, then through a short corridor to a bunch of elevators. Lena follows the others in and faces the buttons. S1, S2, S3. The others push S2. The memo from Biskabit says S3, so she pushes that. People come rushing in and by the time the doors close, the elevator’s almost full. As soon as they shut, a murmur breaks out, as if they were suddenly allowed to speak.
    “Did you see the new offices yet?” one man asks his neighbour.
    “Katie’s department moved in. They’re still pushing for more storage, but it looks great. Not so crowded.”
    “We’re next,” the man says. “Can’t wait.” The doors open to S2 and they move out. That leaves just Lena and a slightly overweight man in a gray suit.
    He smiles at her. “You new here?”
    She’s a little thrown by that. How can she sneak in if everyone can see she’s new?
    “I was behind you when the guard asked for your ID,” he says. “Don’t panic. I can’t read minds.”
    “Phew,” she says. “I thought maybe I had a sticker on me or something.”
    The elevator doors open and they both step out. Lena lets him lead the way.
    “No, no, no, you look perfectly fine. Is this your first interview? Or is it a transfer?”
    She’s tempted to say transfer, it seems like the easy way out, but he would be sure to ask where she transferred from. “Interview,” she says. “And I could use some help finding the way.” She takes a quick look around. “It’s a big place.”
    It’s really astonishing, the size of it; there’s just no way of telling from outside. Lena is in a big main corridor, passing doorways with frosted glass and doorways with no glass. Some doors are open and show offices with stacks of files and multiple desks and people very busily going about their business. Phones ring and terminals blink. Every two hundred feet or so, side corridors intersect with the one she’s on, and when she looks down one, she sees people walking parallel to her, in rows of multiple main corridors. They’re like streets. In fact, every so often there’s a small coffee shop or a little sandwich shop. A clothing store as well; even a pharmacy.
    Her companion abruptly stops and holds out his hand. “Bossephalus,” he