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Inside Out

Page 13

by Maria V. Snyder


  “Are you going to tell me why you need access to the computer?”

  “No.”

  “You still don’t trust me.” He stated it as a matter of fact, but his arm muscles bulged as he pressed his palms into his legs.

  I looked at Sheepy and his mother lying between us. The information about the uppers circled in my mind. Coddled, pampered and privileged had been the line. Yet it missed the mark with Riley. “I trust you.”

  “Then why won’t you confide in me?”

  “Partly for damage control and for selfish reasons.”

  “We’re not accepting cryptic and vague answers right now. More detail, please.”

  “We?” I asked.

  He pointed to the sheep. I couldn’t help smiling. Such a stupid little toy, yet I admitted he filled the missing gaps deep within me. Picking up Sheepy, I held him close to my face. He was easier to talk to than Riley. “Damage control is to minimize the number of people who could expose this whole adventure. The selfish reasons are mine. Eventually, I’ll be caught and fed to Chomper. I’m hoping to cause a lot of trouble before then, and I hope I can convince the Pop Cops you were just a dupe. Someone I used and who didn’t know what was going on. I’m already responsible for sending one person to Chomper and another…” I swallowed as a shudder of guilt and horror swept through me. “It’s only a matter of time before he is sent. Don’t you see, Sheepy? I don’t want anyone else to be recycled because of me.”

  Silence stretched, but I kept my gaze on the sheep, avoiding Riley’s expression. I couldn’t face his censure.

  “I didn’t know you were a Trava,” Riley said.

  “What?” I glanced at him. His eyebrows hovered midway between his eyes and hairline in almost thoughtful surprise.

  “The Trava family decides who is fed to Chomper. I hadn’t realized you were a part of them.”

  “That’s too easy. I can’t blame them. The Travas set the rules and carry out the punishments. My actions caused another to break the rules.”

  “Oh. So you forced this person?”

  “No, but—”

  “But what? I’m trying to understand how you’re responsible. Is the blame all yours? My father told me the Travas aren’t supposed to be setting the rules—that it should be a Committee of all the families. The rules themselves are suspect. And there is also a thing called free will. I had a choice back in Karla’s office. You never asked me not to tell. I decided to help you instead. Are you responsible for my extra duty? No. I am.”

  “You can twist the argument any way.”

  “Exactly. You can shoulder all the blame and become a martyr. Provided anyone knows what or who you’re martyring for. Or you can accept that some things are important enough to fight for and realize there will be sacrifices along the way.” He peered into my eyes. “I’ve assumed this is one of those important fights. An effort to regain some of the freedoms we all lost. I’m well aware of the danger, but am still committed to helping you. You trust me and I need to trust you. So let’s take it to the next step. Tell me why you need access to an upper computer.”

  I debated. If I told him about Gateway, he might think I was delusional. Yet he risked his life for me. “We’re hoping to find a way to circumvent the Controllers’ security measures in the network so we can access a few files and retrieve critical information.”

  “Which information?”

  “About how the various mechanical systems are set up and how to alter them without letting the Controllers know.” So I omitted a few facts. At least I wasn’t lying.

  He relaxed. “See? That wasn’t so hard.” He stood and pulled a stack of clothes from underneath the couch. “I’ve borrowed a training uniform for you.” Riley gestured for me to stand and held the uniform against me. “Looks like it will fit.”

  His knuckles touched my shoulders and a ripple of warmth spread through my body.

  Riley continued to study me. He tossed the uniform over one arm and reached for my hair. More than a few strands had escaped my braid. He smoothed them next to my face. “Leave your hair down. It makes you look younger.” His fingers brushed my jaw.

  I suppress the sudden desire to press his hand against my cheek. “Younger?”

  “You’re supposed to be a student.”

  “We’ll be in your suite. Are you expecting visitors?”

  “No. But there’s a chance someone might come, and I’d have a harder time explaining why two scrubs were in my room.”

  “Good point.”

  As he rummaged through the pile of clothes, I tugged the rest of my hair from the braid. Combing my fingers through it, I separated it into three sections.

  “Don’t,” Riley said.

  “Why?”

  He didn’t answer. He pushed my hands away and drew my hair over my shoulders. Stepping back, he cocked his head as if contemplating. “You look so stern and serious with your hair tied back.” He gestured. “That’s more like the Trella I first met. But it’s not quite…right.” He mussed up my hair, pulling a few strands over my face. “Ah-ha! Perfect!”

  I shot him a withering look.

  His smile widened. “Even better. It’s like I’ve been transported back in time.”

  “Ha. Ha. Funny,” I said in a flat tone. Sweeping the hair from my face, I tucked it behind my ears. “Do you have a disguise for my companion?” I asked, trying to return to the point of my visit.

  “I didn’t know who you were bringing along, so I found a basic coverall worn by the maintenance workers. It’s one-size-fits-all and we’re used to seeing the crew with rolled up sleeves and pant legs.”

  He handed me the clothes. The fabric on the student’s garment had the same coarse and durable weave as the jumpers worn by the lower kids in the care facility.

  A pained expression crossed his face. “Break’s over. I’m in three-six-ninety-five in Sector E4. Will you be able to find it?”

  “Yes.”

  “When?”

  I calculated how much time I needed to find Logan and lead him to level four. I hoped Anne-Jade would cover my shift again. “Around hour forty-two.”

  “See you then.” He slipped from the room.

  I waited a moment just in case an upper saw him leaving the room and investigated. Diving behind the couch probably wouldn’t be the best hiding place, but it was better than being caught halfway inside the air duct. After enough time elapsed, I set the ladder under the vent. But before I climbed, I snuggled Sheepy back in his protective spot under Mama Sheepy.

  On my way to find Logan, one of Jacy’s guys bumped into me. He slipped me two listening devices without a word and ambled on his way. Laughter echoed through the hallways and people lingered in small groups, talking. The tension in the lower levels had eased.

  After a few moments, I realized why. The number of Pop Cops patrolling the area had dropped to normal. As I hurried to Logan’s barrack, scrubs tried to catch my gaze. A few smiled at me with hope shining in their eyes and others cocked an eyebrow with a questioning look.

  For the first time, I was the center of attention. Everyone watched me as if I were a bomb. Would I explode and cause a disaster or would I pop and cause a miracle? The pressure of their stares squeezed my chest until my lungs wheezed with the effort to draw a breath.

  Pop Cop spies still worked among us. It amazed me that they hadn’t discovered my involvement. Perhaps Karla waited for me to make a mistake. Right now she had no evidence I was involved in Broken Man’s disappearance, but if she stalked me for a few weeks, she would eventually catch me breaking the rules. Hard to believe, but breathing became more difficult, and I wished for simpler weeks. My lonely life in the pipes seemed a distant and pleasant memory.

  I met Logan and Anne-Jade as they entered the barrack. Odd-hour shifts had finished and even would begin soon.

  Logan’s light brown eyes sparkled. “Time to play?”

  Anne-Jade shot him a sour look.

  “Meet me in corridor A2-5 in one hour,” I t
old him. “Anne-Jade, can you cover my shift?”

  “Sure.” She met my gaze. “Please don’t let anything happen to him.”

  “I’ll try.” My throat felt hot and dry.

  “Hey,” Logan said. “I’m a grown man. I can take care of myself.”

  “Are you kidding?” Anne-Jade shot back. “If it wasn’t for me, you’d be late for everything. Too busy playing with your toys.”

  I left. The sounds of their mock argument followed me from the barracks. One of Jacy’s men waited in the hallway. He fell into step beside me.

  “Boss wants to see you,” he said.

  “When?”

  “Now.”

  “I can’t. My shift’s starting. Tell him I’ll stop by later.”

  He wrapped his strong fingers around my right elbow. “You’ll see him now.” He pulled me along.

  I squawked in protest, but he stared straight ahead. Twice my size, I knew I couldn’t pry his grip off, but I could jab him with a screwdriver. My left hand closed on the tool.

  “I wouldn’t do it,” he said. “It would…annoy me.”

  Interesting choice of words. I rationalized my cowardice and decided to wait. After all, there was no sense making a scene.

  Jacy held court in his corner of Sector D1’s barrack. At least six unhappy expressions turned to me as my companion delivered me to his boss. My worry switched from annoying the man clamped on my elbow to Jacy’s livid face.

  “I knew it would happen eventually,” Jacy said. The muscles along his arms quivered and his eyes held a wild shine. “I just wasn’t…prepared.” He swallowed and his anger eased a bit.

  “What happened?” I braced for the answer.

  “I want to blame you, but I can’t.” He looked away.

  My guard’s fingers dug into my skin and I yelped.

  Jacy’s attention snapped back to me. This time grief lined his eyes. “Cogon’s been scheduled for execution.”

  13

  HIS WORDS SLICED THROUGH MY HEART, CUTTING IT into little pathetic pieces. I understood how he could feel unprepared. The knowledge that the Pop Cops would recycle Cog had been trapped deep within me and ignored. I planned to deal with it later or, better yet, hoped it would disappear altogether.

  “When?” I asked.

  “Hour ninety-nine. They plan to walk him down to Chomper’s Lair and kill-zap him there.” Outrage filled Jacy’s voice. “They figured it would be easier than lugging his body down there. The timing is so Lieutenant Commander Karla can use his execution to lecture us during the hundred-hour assembly on the consequences of disobeying the Pop Cops.”

  I did the math. Fifty-eight hours left.

  “If what you’re doing can help Cog, you’d better do it quick,” Jacy said.

  “I can’t do anything with a broken arm.”

  He nodded and the big guy released my elbow. I rubbed the joint and turned away.

  “Trella,” Jacy called.

  “What?” I almost growled at him.

  “Let me know if you need anything. Anything at all.”

  It was a generous offer, considering the last time we conversed he had called me worthless. “Got it.”

  With my emotions spinning, I hurried to meet Logan. I walked right past my turn and had to stop. Distractions would be dangerous, and all our efforts would be for nothing if we were caught before accessing the computer. I squashed my fear and worries into a small metal box and dropped in the shattered remains of my heart for good measure. Locked with an obnoxiously big lock, I pushed the container into a far corner of my thoughts.

  Focused and almost robotic, I marched toward corridor A2-5. Logan fidgeted and paced, trying to appear nonchalant, but failing miserably. At least he wasn’t chewing his nails.

  I led him to the door of the maintenance room next to Quad A’s lift. While he watched the hall, I opened the door’s lock. Memories of Cog and I hiding Broken Man in a laundry bin in this room threatened to overwhelm me. I clamped down on the feeling. No emotions allowed. We slipped inside and locked the door.

  Pushing the air vent open, I pulled out a bundle. “Here, put this on.” I handed Logan the coveralls Riley had given me. While he dressed, I donned the student’s uniform. The black jumper with silver piping along the pants and sleeves sagged around my waist, but I cinched it tight with the belt.

  When he was ready, I climbed into the air shaft and helped Logan inside.

  “It’s bigger than the heating vent,” he said.

  “Sounds still carry, and I’m about to show you a place only I know about. You can’t tell anyone. Not even Anne-Jade. Promise me?”

  “Ooh. Sounds like fun. Of course, I promise.”

  I slid through the shaft, stopped under the near-invisible hatch and pushed it open. Logan pressed a hand to his mouth to smother his cry of surprise. Turning on my light, I climbed into the meter-and-a-half-high space and moved aside so Logan could join me. He stared at his surroundings while I closed the hatch.

  “What is this place?” he asked in a whisper.

  I shrugged. “I call it the Gap. There’s one between each level.”

  “Wow. What’s it used for?”

  I gestured around. “Space for the pipes and wires. I think everyone’s forgotten about it. I can only get in here through one near invisible hatch on each level. Come on, but crawl quietly.” I hurried toward the lift. The easiest way to get Logan up to the fourth level was by riding on top of the lift.

  A meter-high metal barrier divided the Gap from where the lift cut through the four floors of Inside. From the inside of the lift, it appeared the shaft was solid, but each level had a half-meter opening into the Gap. I pulled my extendable mirror from my tool belt. Shining the light in the shaft, I used the mirror. The lift was on the third level.

  “When the lift comes down to our level, we don’t have much time but we need to quietly move onto the roof and stay there until we reach the top,” I said.

  “What happens at the top?” Logan bit his thumbnail.

  “We climb into the Gap before the lift descends.”

  Logan stared, and nibbled on his nails. If he were a computer, he would be making the rumbling crunching noise that meant it was calculating.

  “Once we’re on, do we have to wait until an upper wants to go to level four?” he asked.

  “No. Once it’s down, there are override controls on the roof.”

  Logan shivered as we waited. “It’s cold here. I wonder why there is all this extra room. Does the Gap run the entire length of Inside?”

  I explained how each level was connected by steel I-beams to the Wall.

  “How about under the lower level, is there a Gap there?” he asked.

  “Yes. All the levels are surrounded by Gaps.”

  “What’s beyond the Gaps on the sides?”

  “The Walls of Inside.”

  He considered. “What do the Walls feel like?”

  “There’re covered with insulating foam.”

  “I meant temperature. Hot or cold?”

  “Oh. The foam’s room temperature, but the few places where there isn’t foam, it’s ice-cold.”

  He grinned. “Have you pressed your ear to it?”

  I admitted I tried to listen for sounds from the other side. “I heard nothing besides the Hum.” Produced by the machinery, the Hum was a constant background noise. It seemed like Inside’s breath, and most scrubs no longer noticed the Hum.

  “Too bad.”

  Eventually the lift passed with a chilly blast of air. We scrambled over the barrier, but landed with care on the lift’s roof. I pressed the override button for the fourth level. I didn’t think it would concern the occupants too much. The Pop Cops always complained about the lift’s odd quirks.

  Voices reached us from below, but they were indistinguishable. I put a finger to my lips as Logan’s eyes flew wide when the lift ascended. It moved fast and in a handful of seconds we reached the top. I waved Logan on. In his haste, he fell with a grunt and
a bang over the barrier into the fourth-level Gap.

  We halted, listening for sounds of discovery. Nothing but the hiss of the lift’s door shutting. I grabbed the edge of the barrier and pulled until my hips rested on it. The lift dropped away, leaving my legs dangling. Logan scooted back and I joined him on solid ground.

  After taking a moment to recover, I led him through the maze of pipes and ductwork to the hatch. Finding the hatches the first time had been difficult. I’d spent hours exploring each Gap for the near-invisible hatch. Grinning, I remembered how disappointed I had been when I found the last one. The search had provided me with a challenge unlike my prior week-to-week pointless existence.

  When we reached it, I whispered in Logan’s ear, “No talking, no sounds at all from now on. Got it?”

  “Yes.”

  The fourth-level hatch opened into air duct number fifteen, which crossed over the giant water storage tanks in Sector H4 before cutting through the uppers’ rooms in Sector E4. I counted the suites, but then realized I didn’t need to as I felt Riley’s impatience through his air vent before seeing his worried face staring at the ceiling.

  Under the vent, he had a stepladder set up on a table. Removing the cover, I slid my legs out. “Feet first,” I said to Logan before lowering myself down.

  Riley hurried to put the ladder away after Logan had reached the floor. We stood in the middle of a small living area. Couch, two chairs and one low table decorated the room. The two men eyed each other.

  “It’s safer if I don’t introduce you,” I said into the uncomfortable silence.

  “He’s a scrub,” Riley said.

  “So?” I shot back.

  “He doesn’t have a port and can’t access the computer network.”

  Logan smirked. “Don’t need a port. Where’s your terminal?”

  Riley failed to look reassured but opened a metal curtain just like the one in Broken Man’s hideout. He pulled over one of the chairs and gestured for Logan to take a seat.

  “What about your port?” I asked. “If you’re too close—”

  “Took it out and put it in a metal box.” Riley rubbed his right jaw as if he were unused to having it missing.

 

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