Inside Out

by Maria V. Snyder

  “Here.” She handed me a warm bowl of tan-colored water and a spoon.

  I sniffed the strange substance.

  “It’s broth. It’ll help you recover.” Amusement filled her voice. “If you keep that down, I’ll give you a thicker soup.”

  Sipping a spoonful of broth, I waited for my stomach’s reaction. My hunger strengthened, and I abandoned the spoon to drink right from the bowl.

  “Enjoy being able to recover quickly. When you get past thirty-five centiweeks old, it’s harder to heal.” She handed me the soup. “In a few hours you can return to your normal diet.” Rising, she glanced around the room. “Eventually, you’re going to want to take a shower and sleep in a real bed.” Her gaze returned to me. “You already have the student’s uniform, and I have an extra bed in my rooms next to the infirmary you can use. It’s supposed to be for an intern, but none of the current class has the skills needed, and I’m waiting for a few of the younger kids to grow older.”

  A generous and dangerous offer. She would be recycled if I was found in her rooms. “Wouldn’t my presence be suspicious?”

  “Not really. Students have more freedom and aren’t tracked as closely until they choose a profession and are given a port. My supervisor would actually be happy to see I have selected an intern—he’s been nagging me about it for weeks.” She checked my pulse. “Strong. You should be fine.”

  Collecting a few medical items, she headed toward the door. Before she left, she looked at me. “Think about my suggestion, Ella. Riley knows where to find me.”

  Her offer was out of the question. Karla would not stop until she found me and I needed to confirm Gateway’s location, talk to Logan about those files, open Gateway and turn myself in to the Pop Cops for Cog. Playing Ella the upper with a very nice lady wasn’t included in my to-do list no matter how much I wished it was there.

  Instead I reviewed each task. Confirming Gateway’s location would require climbing through the shafts. Not possible right now, but could be accomplished in another ten hours or so I hoped. The concern was if Karla had gotten the coordinates from Domotor or Logan and beaten me to Gateway. What then? The Pop Cops would control it. I could tell the scrubs about its existence. I barked out a laugh. I’d be the new prophet, raving about Gateway for everyone’s amusement. No. If Karla had Gateway, the game would be over.

  If I found Gateway, I would need to learn more about Outside and how to open the door. Logan guessed the needed information hid in the old files. Opening the files required passwords and Logan. Again I needed to be able to climb to contact the Tech No. If Karla held Logan, or if we couldn’t deduce the correct passwords, then it was game over.

  Opening Gateway depended on the success of task two, plus we would need uppers to cover the computer alerts. I had a list of possible sympathizers, but one of them was a spy. Logan had planned to check the computer records of the uppers. If he couldn’t discover who worked for Karla, we’d need to find another group via Riley, and hope we didn’t contact another spy. If we did—game over.

  The last task, turning myself in to Karla had the least problems. And once the game was over, it would be the only job left for me to do.

  I needed to communicate with Karla somehow, and I really needed to find out what she knew and what she planned. Too bad I couldn’t crawl through the heating vents again and maybe listen—

  Jacy’s device! I had planted one above Karla’s office. If I could pick up the audio signal, I could listen in. I ignored the fact I had no idea how to do it. My whole future depended on so many ifs and hopes and assumptions and possibilities that I would consider it impossible right now if I thought about it too much.

  I decided to think positive and impart maximum damage.

  My tool belt was close enough to reach with a minimal amount of bending. I removed the microphone. Jacy might regret his offer to help.

  I flipped it on and said, “Jacy, I need your help again. Lieutenant Commander Karla is offering me a deal and I need you to be my negotiator. Tell Karla that I will turn myself in if she promises to free Cogon so he can return to work in the lower levels and promises she won’t recycle me. She won’t accept those terms and she’ll make a counteroffer. Tell her you’ll communicate with me and let her know in twenty hours. Drag the negotiations out as long as possible. I don’t care what the final terms are for me as long as Cogon stays alive and no one else is arrested. I’m trusting you.”

  “You don’t care what the final terms are?” Riley asked. He closed the door and stood there holding a steaming bowl.

  “No. As long as I cause problems and do maximum damage.” I wondered how much he had heard.

  “What about your friends? Don’t you think they care?”

  “But I would be helping them. And besides, it’s my decision.”

  “Maybe they don’t want you to help them. Did you ever think of that? Did you think about how your decision impacts others? Those you leave behind to deal with the gaping hole in their existence?”

  Riley’s agitation seemed excessive. He noticed my confusion. “I guess it must be a family thing. Something a scrub wouldn’t understand. Although I wouldn’t call me and my still-grieving father a family.”

  I remembered. Riley wasn’t angry at me, but at his mother. Her name was on Domotor’s recycled list. “I know you miss your mother—”

  “You don’t know. You’re a scrub. You don’t have a family.”

  Now I was livid. “Of course I do. The scrubs are my family. I have a Care Mother. I shared her with nine brothers and sisters, but she loves us all. And I have Cog, who I will give myself to Karla in order to save.” My outburst surprised me, but not as much as the realization that I truly believed what I had said.

  Riley couldn’t keep the smugness from his voice. “Your description of life in the lower levels is completely different from how you described it to me when we first met. Perhaps uppers and lowers have more in common than you first thought.” He tried to suppress a smirk and failed. “Come on, admit it.”

  “Did you come for a reason? I’m supposed to be resting.”

  He held the bowl up. “Admit it and I’ll give you this stew.” He blew over the top, sending a delicious smell my way.

  “You’re obnoxious.”

  “I’ve been called worse.” He swept the food under my nose.

  “All right. All right. Maybe I judged the uppers too soon.”

  “Nope. Not good enough for this wonderful meal. I want three words: I, was, wrong.” He held up three fingers and waggled them.

  “You’re mean. I’m injured and need nourishment to recover.”

  “The stew’s getting cold.”

  “Fine. I was wrong. Happy?”

  “Ecstatic.” He gave me the bowl and a smile.

  At least he didn’t gloat. After scraping my spoon to retrieve the last bit, I decided the stew was worth my admission.

  Riley hovered. I moved my legs so he could join me on the couch.

  “You look better,” he said. “Your face isn’t as pale.”

  “I have you to thank. You risked a lot by fetching the doctor.”

  He shrugged. “Doctor Lamont is a friend of my father’s.” He pulled at a thread on the couch. “Considering the extent of your injury and blood loss, the doctor was amazed you made it up here.”

  “You know how stubborn I can be. I wanted to warn you about Domotor. Once they break him, he’ll tell the Pop Cops about you and Logan.” I looked at the clock. Hour twenty-one. Plenty of time for Vinco’s knife to have done its job.

  “They don’t have him yet,” Riley said.

  I straightened, tugging my stitches. “What happened?”

  “LC Karla knows he’s been using his port, but her computer experts can’t trace it back to an exact location. All she knows is he’s on level one. She’s been trying to search the entire level.”

  “Trying?”

  He grinned. “The Pop Cops have been besieged with a run of bad luck. Malfunctioning eq
uipment, missing tools, miscommunications and a broken water pipe.”

  Jacy had heeded my request, which meant he’d warned Logan and probably received my most recent communication. I wondered if Logan was the reason for Karla’s computer woes. “How do you know about her troubles?”

  “One of the metal cutters overheated and injured an ensign. Doctor Lamont treated him. Nice, chatty fellow.” He leaned forward. “Now we have a little time to find Gateway.”

  “Yes. But we’ll need Logan and a bunch of uppers to help.”

  “We have me, my father and Doctor Lamont. I have a cousin in mechanical that I can trust. Who else did Domotor mention?”

  “Kiana Garrard, Hana Mineko, Takia Qadim and Breana Narelle. But one of them works for the Trava family. Logan might be able to tell us which one.”

  Riley wound the couch’s thread around his hand. “I’ve heard of Takia. She works in the Control Room. One of only two people who are not Travas. I’ve met Breana and Hana. They were part of my father’s training group, but he hasn’t visited with them in hundreds of weeks. I never heard of Kiana Garrard. Do you know which system she works in?”

  “No. We need Logan.”

  “You’re in no condition to bring him through the air shafts.”

  I agreed. LC Karla was occupied with locating Domotor. Perhaps Logan could take the lift. It would be a matter of timing, and Logan being able to find the Pop Cop uniform I had hidden. I shared my idea with Riley.

  “It could work as long as his nerves don’t give him away. How are you going to contact him?”

  I showed Riley the listening device.

  He whistled. “When you decide to break the law, you certainly don’t skimp. Illegal technology and a stolen Pop Cop uniform.”

  “Borrowed. You’re not exactly Mr. Law-and-Order. In fact…” I had an idea.

  “Oh no. This can’t be good.”

  “Is there any way you can pick up an audio signal?” I asked.

  He took the device and examined it. “If I had the frequency, yes. Why?”

  “There is one of these hidden in Karla’s office. Knowing her plans will help us.”

  His surprise didn’t last long. “Gee, I wonder how it got there,” he said with a light sarcasm.

  “No idea,” I said, playing along. “Kids these weeks.” I tsked. “Always getting into trouble. Not like me, I’m the soul of conformity.”

  He laughed. “We should make that your code name. Soul of Conformity or SOC for short.”

  After Riley left, I contacted Jacy through the device, telling him about our plans. “Send Logan up at hour twenty-six. He tends to get nervous so it would be a good time for another distraction. I also need the frequency of the bug in Karla’s office.”

  If all went as planned at hour twenty-six, Logan would dress in the Pop Cop uniform and take the lift to level four where Riley would be waiting to escort him to our storeroom.

  Realizing I’d used our instead of Riley’s, I grunted with amusement. Storeroom also failed as a descriptor. Recent events had transformed the room into an infirmary, a hideout and a bedroom. Riley had ordered me to rest.

  I wormed into a comfortable position, but my thoughts swirled with worries and my hip ached. Giving up, I scanned the room for something to distract me. Besides Riley’s electrical sketches, nothing caught my eye. I could understand why Domotor hadn’t waited for Logan. Boredom was worse than unclogging pipes for waste handling.

  A little gray lump rested under the desk. Careful of my stitches, I eased to my feet and shuffled to pick up Sheepy. His mother was a few feet away. I carried them both to the couch. Small flecks of blood dotted their coats and I used the water in my drinking glass to clean them off.

  I wondered about Riley’s brother. From his comments, I guessed the boy died right after birth. So where was Dada Sheepy?

  Eventually, I dozed, dreaming about sheep. I held a bleating lamb as I waded through a hallway filled with sheep. A wet crunching sound chased me. It grew louder as I stumbled over the animals, convinced Chomper’s blades would soon bite me. I tripped. Rolling over, I pushed the lamb behind my back to face the threat, but Cog stood between me and darkness.

  He offered his hand. I grasped it and he pulled me to my feet. Then he stepped aside and flung me toward the LC.

  “Use her to ensure their cooperation,” he said.

  His laughter followed me as she dragged me away.

  “Game’s over, Tre…Trella. Trella. Wake up.”

  I squinted into the daylight. Riley stood next to a Pop Cop. Wide awake in an instant, I nearly tore my stitches sitting up before I recognized the face. “Anne-Jade? What happened?”

  “Logan’s being monitored,” she said. “A Pop Cop noticed he was spending a lot of time on the computer.”

  “I thought they were all busy with the search,” I said.

  “Most are, but a few Pop Cops are convinced the missing scrub is being helped and are determined to be the one to find you and get a promotion. They’ve made life in the lower levels even more intolerable.” Her gaze swept the room. “Although, I must say I’m disappointed by level four. Is level three any better?” Anne-Jade asked Riley.

  “No. It’s about the same.”

  “Pity.”

  “Anne-Jade, do you have any news?” I asked.

  She settled on the couch, leaving Riley to sit on the floor. “The first thing I’m supposed to tell you is from Jacy.” Her nose creased with distaste. “He says you owe him big and when this whole mess is over, you’re his slave for a week.”

  Nice of him to be optimistic.

  Riley’s mouth opened in stunned outrage. “He doesn’t mean—”

  “No.” I assured him. “Jacy’ll have me planting his bugs all over Inside. Go on, Anne-Jade.”

  “Logan gave me a list of password questions to memorize. Do you have a wipe board?”

  Riley rummaged through the desk, and wrote down the questions. All were vague yet had enough information to make them seem possible to answer. The third question mentioned a platitude about being unable to see. No quick answers jumped to mind.

  “What about the uppers? Did Logan have time to check them?” I asked.

  “Yes. He said he found one of the names mentioned as an informant in the security files. The rest had clean records.”

  “Which one?” I asked.

  “Kiana Garrard.”

  Her name banged hard against my metal heart, sending vibrations along my skin. I shouldn’t be surprised. If she could abandon her child in the lower levels, she could rat out her husband and others.

  “Anything else about the uppers?” Riley asked.

  “Yes, Logan said Takia Qadim would be the best person to have on our side as she has access to multiple systems.”

  “How will she and the others know to trust us?”

  I shuffled through all the information Domotor had told me. “This is going to sound hokey, but tell them the Force of Ten is back in action.” Which was true. If I counted Logan, Anne-Jade, Riley, Doctor Lamont and myself the number was ten.

  “I don’t know if I can say that with a straight face,” Riley said.

  “Just think of the consequences if they don’t help us.”

  “Good point.”

  Anne-Jade had been fidgeting with the top button on the Pop Cop uniform. Dipping her head down, she spoke to her chest. “Did it work?” Then she pressed a fingertip to her earring, cocking her head.

  Riley and I exchanged a significant look. Had the pressure been too much for her?

  “Okay. I’ll give it to her. Thanks.” Anne-Jade noticed our dubious expressions. “I can’t keep playing messenger between you and the lower levels.” She pulled the small blue earring from her earlobe. “Receiver.” She dug into her pocket, and removed a strange metal device that resembled a rivet gun. She placed the earring in the gun and pressed it to my left earlobe. “Hold still.”

  Before I could protest, she squeezed and a loud pop sounded in my ear f
ollowed by a sharp pain. Anne-Jade batted my hand away as she finished, wiping my lobe with a medicinal-smelling cloth. It came away wet with my blood.

  “Now you can hear Jacy.” She yanked on her top button. It popped off with ease and revealed an identical button underneath. “Microphone. It’s built into a standard issue button and attaches with ease. Go on, try it.”

  I clipped the metal microphone to my top button.

  “She’s on,” Anne-Jade said.

  “Trella?” Jacy asked.

  I started and glanced around. His clear voice sounded as if he stood next to me.

  “Trella, are you there?”

  “Yes.”

  “No need to shout, I can hear you just fine. These devices of the Tech Nos are wonderful. Once they make more, we can coordinate our team’s efforts.”

  “What team?”

  Anne-Jade averted her gaze.

  “The Gateway team of course.” Jacy’s matter-of-fact reply contrasted with his upsetting revelation.

  “How did you—”

  “He threatened to report us to the Pop Cops,” Anne-Jade said in her defense.

  Under normal circumstances, Jacy wouldn’t interact with the Pop Cops.

  “You fell for his bluff. How much did you tell him?” I asked her.

  But Jacy answered. “Everything and you should have come to me right away instead of blundering around.”

  Riley’s confusion increased as I talked to Jacy, but he kept quiet.

  “Blundering? You would have done better?” I asked.

  “Of course. I would have assigned people to cover your shift, to help smuggle food and to supply you with information.”

  “But I couldn’t—”

  “Trust anyone. I know.”

  I had planned to say “get you in trouble,” but he was right, too. “You’re helping now.” With Jacy, we were the force of eleven. It didn’t have the same cachet.

  “Small consolation, considering the havoc down here.” Yet a gleeful challenge spiked his tone as if he looked forward to the upcoming difficulties.

  “What’s the status?” I braced for his answer.