Inside Out

by Maria V. Snyder

  “And if she does?”

  “Contact me and I start the interrogations.” I shuddered at the delight in his voice.

  “Then what should I do about her friend?”

  “Keep him alive. He’s fun to play with.”

  “What time should I schedule him?”

  “Before the hundred-hour assembly.”

  “All right. Go spread the word, Commander.”

  The sound of a shutting door echoed through Riley’s metal box. I stared at the clock. Hour sixty-two. Thirty-eight hours to turn myself in. Yet another countdown. I felt as if I had already grieved for Cog, either that or I felt more confident of our success.

  I rejoined the others. They had answered another two questions. Four left.

  “What’s the one about turning something in?” Takia asked me.

  “Oh. It’s number six. It’s What do you turn to get the outside in?”

  A discussion ensued, producing the same answers I had. Riley sat in the midst of them, adding his own arguments to the debate. But Doctor Lamont kept her place along the wall. Her pale face appeared strained. I walked over to her.

  “Do you feel all right?” I asked.

  She gave me a wan smile. “Isn’t that my line?”

  “When you look as white as the lady sleeping in the infirmary, it’s a valid question.”

  “Just tired.” She pushed away from the wall. “I better check on her and make sure there’s no internal bleeding.” Doctor Lamont hurried from the room.

  That’s all the poor woman needed, I thought. She had lost so much blood; I hoped she wasn’t bleeding on the inside.

  Daylights flooded my mind. Of course, how stupid! I punched the wall. Everyone quieted and stared at me.

  “I know the answer to number six!” I cried.

  “Don’t keep us in suspense,” Riley said.

  “Inside out! You turn the inside out to get the outside in.”

  The group worked another hour, then each left at different times. We had answers, or what we thought were the correct answers to six out of eight questions. Not bad. I turned on my button microphone and hoped someone was listening like Jacy had promised. I sent a message, asking Jacy to bring Logan to Domotor’s hideout at hour eighty-one. His hidden room would be the best to access the network without interruption and without Pop Cops looking over his shoulder. I toggled off the microphone.

  Riley returned to his workstation and Doctor Lamont rested in her room. Exhaustion pulled at me, but the doctor had asked me to watch over her patients while she slept.

  They all appeared to be asleep, and I wasn’t sure I would even know if they were in trouble. Watching them sure beat scrubbing air ducts. At one point the woman moaned and I rushed over. Lamont had left a few pain pills by the patient’s bedside in case she needed more.

  “Are you in pain?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said. Her voice was thin and weak.

  “The doctor has pills.” I moved to get her a glass of water, but the woman grabbed my arm.

  “A pill can’t ease this kind of pain. Can you sit and talk to me?”

  “Sure.” I pulled a chair beside her bed. We sat in uncomfortable silence for a while.

  “What’s your name?” she asked.

  “Ella.”

  A half smile played on her white lips. “That’s it? No family names?”

  “Oh. Ella Garrard Sanchia.”

  “Still no mate, then?”

  “No. I’m Doctor Lamont’s intern.” I pulled on my sleeves, reminding myself to tread carefully and watch what I said.

  “Did you…Did you see her?”

  Only one possible “her.” The baby. “Yes. She is beautiful.”

  “Really?” The woman bit her lip.

  Instinct took over my voice box. “She has long dark eyelashes and already a full head of hair. Her face was a perfect oval, her chin came to a little point with a dimple. Skin so smooth and as soft as the underside of a sheep’s ear.” My surprise matched the woman’s. I’d held the baby for minutes, yet I could form a lifelike picture of her in my mind’s eye.

  Unfortunately, my description caused the woman more pain. Tears flowed and her chest heaved in quiet sobs. Feeling terrible, I tried to ease her anguish. “Don’t worry so much. She will be loved in the lower levels. The care facility is broken into units of ten children per Care Mother. The Mothers love all the children and she will grow up with care mates, who will look after her. I’m sure one of the older boys will become very protective, and she will fuss about his attention but be his staunchest supporter.”

  The woman stared at me as if I had sprouted wings. I didn’t know what caused me to say so much. At least I didn’t lie to her. Care mates could be very protective.

  Instead of questioning me on how I knew so much, the upper sighed in relief. “What do you think they’ll name her?”

  “Hmm…She’ll need a pretty name, but not too girly as I think she’ll be a bit of a tomboy.”

  “Gillie? I always liked the name.”

  “A good choice.”

  We discussed Gillie’s life, her toddler years, her schooling and her career.

  “I think she might gravitate to working in the care facility. As a helper to start and then as a Care Mother,” I said.

  By this time, the upper’s tears had dried. She smiled proudly. “Yes, I’m sure she will love the little ones and have enough patience for the active three-hundred-week-olds.”

  “And the nice man who works in recycling, you know, the one who made her those metal flowers?”

  “Do you think he wants to be her mate?” she asked.

  “There’s not much time or material to make those petals for just anyone. He’s interested.”

  We talked through Gillie’s life from start to finish, including all her accomplishments and major life events. The woman fell asleep with a dreamy half smile still on her lips.

  I remained by her bedside. Cog would be amused by my efforts to comfort an upper. No. Not amused. Proud. I liked Ella. She was a good sort, much nicer than Trella, and I hoped she managed to survive the next thirty hours.

  Doctor Lamont woke me. I had been dozing in the chair. “Sorry,” I said.

  “No, I’m sorry. You had a hellish twenty hours and I left you to watch my patients.”

  “You need to sleep, too.” Memories of the emergency replayed in my mind. “I don’t know how you could be so rational with all the blood gushing, and being able to cut through her stomach.…” My own stomach rolled and I had to put my head in my hands to stop the swirl of dots in front of my eyes.

  “But you were fine during the crisis. I’ve had to step over interns who had passed out during surgery.”

  “Like I said, I didn’t think about it.”

  Lamont pressed her fingers to the woman’s wrist, checking her pulse. “Poor Doreen. She’s in for a rough time. Losing a child…”

  She stared at the wall, but her gaze peered into another world. “The loss lingers inside you, clinging like beads of moisture until rust forms and spreads. Eventually, the structure can’t hold the weight and it collapses.”

  Her description had to come from experience. Not knowing what to say, I again let instinct guide my words. “I hope she finds another way to support the weight and keep the rust at bay. It would be a pity for her to live her life as an empty shell, when she has a mate and another child to care for.”

  The doctor snapped out of her reverie. “It would be, but words are easy. It’s convincing the heart that’s hard. Get some sleep, Ella.”

  I did as the doctor ordered and slept for the next eight hours. Feeling almost normal, I ate a large portion of a three-bean casserole Lamont had cooked. She had access to the same ingredients as the lower levels, but her concoctions tasted better.

  After enduring a lecture to be careful, I climbed into the air shafts above level three. The tight duct was at once comforting and oppressive. An unfamiliar moment of panic washed over me. I ignored the flood
of doubts and fears that soaked me. It was just like being in the surgery, if I stopped to think too much about what we planned to do, I would be unconscious.

  The trip to Logan’s barrack lasted twice as long as normal. My movements were slow and my muscles protested being used after such a long time. I paused every few minutes to listen and search for RATSS. The mechanical clicking of their metal rollers echoed through the vents and I managed to dodge two devices.

  Logan waited for me by the heating vent near his bunk.

  “What about your Pop Cop?” I asked.

  “He thinks I’m sleeping.” Logan grunted as he squeezed into the vent.

  I led him to Domotor’s room. It had been over a hundred hours since I’d been there and I hoped he was well.

  Slumped on the couch, Domotor’s drawn face relaxed a bit when he saw me sliding from the vent after Logan.

  “Where have you been? What’s going on? I’m a wreck, jumping at every noise.”

  Dark smudges under his eyes stood out in contrast to his pale face. His uncombed hair hung in greasy clumps. An overripe smell emanated from his body.

  He noticed my expression. “I didn’t want to be caught in the shower. I do have my dignity.”

  “Not to worry,” Logan said. “I covered your computer trail just in time.” He aimed for the computer and pulled a chair close to the keyboard. “Trella, what are the passwords?”

  For a moment, I felt as if he talked to another person and I didn’t respond.

  “Passwords?”

  As if waking from a dream, I cleared my head and repeated the ones we had figured out. “We still have three unanswered, but at least we’ll get some information.”

  “What about the teeth one?” Logan asked.

  “Forty-one.”

  “I’ll plug in the others first and see what happens.”

  Domotor struggled into his chair and wheeled it over to watch Logan. The images and numbers on the screen meant nothing to me. Trusting Logan would extract the needed data, I checked Domotor’s food supplies. Low. He would need more and soon. With so many RATSS I doubted the kitchen scrubs would risk discovery by filling the air shaft again.

  Perhaps I could raid the pantry when everyone attended the hundred-hour assembly. But I remembered I would either be in LC Karla’s custody by then or perhaps I would be Outside. The strange thought of being somewhere else kept slipping away. With nothing to compare to, I couldn’t even imagine it. To me, Outside resembled Inside with no Pop Cops and with more space.

  I planned to touch base with Riley, and coordinate the opening of Gateway during hour ninety-seven. But first, I needed to uncover it.

  After cleaning Domotor’s washroom and bedroom as best as I could, I joined them. Huddled over the keyboard, Logan’s eyes were lit with a childlike glee and even Domotor seemed thrilled. They turned to me with identical grins.

  “What?”

  “We know,” Logan said.

  “Outside. Look.” Domotor pointed to the screen.

  My stomach boiled as I peered at the image. Green and blue jumped out, but I blinked and the details became clearer.

  “It’s like hydroponics,” Logan said. “But the plants are huge and the sheep’s special grass is all over the place. Look at the ceiling, it’s blue and goes on forever.”

  “Does anyone live there?” I asked.

  “I don’t quite know. The text states numbers and details for things like breathable air mixture, compatible food source, mineral deposits, drinkable ground water and something called wildlife. Which, as far as I could tell, are animals without any real intelligence.”

  “In order to obtain the information, someone has been to Outside.” Even though thrilled with the news, I wondered how long ago the data was collected. Everything changed with time. “Can you find out when?”

  “No. The information was pulled from various files and dumped together. A few sentences are incomplete, and the topic changes abruptly. Some of the files are damaged and I can only read about half of what’s in them.”

  “It doesn’t matter when,” Domotor said, dismissing my concern. “Most likely it was before the Travas took control. Perhaps after the scouting mission, the Travas panicked, thinking they would lose power in such a big place. We know it’s safe to go to Outside.”

  “And we know the code to open Gateway.” Logan typed at the keyboard and numbers marched across the computer screen.

  I committed the code to memory.

  “Something else…” He pointed. “Colored buttons. Green to open. Red to close. Any ideas?”

  “To get back to Inside,” Domotor said. “There would have to be controls on Outside. Proof that no people live there or they would have opened the door by now.”

  He had a point.

  Finally, Logan announced he had no more useful info. “Wish we had those last three passwords.”

  “What about the file with my birth week on it?” I asked.

  Domotor glanced at me in surprise. “There’s a file with your birth week on it?”

  “And the hour of her birth. I forgot about that one.” Logan’s fingers flew and he hummed to himself. A white screen flashed and he paused for a second. “Uh…Trell, you’d better read this. It’s from your mother.”

  I backed away. “She couldn’t have…No way to know I would be involved…A trap?”

  Domotor leaned closer to the screen. “No. She admits the chances of you finding this letter is little to none.” He continued to read. “It’s similar to a diary entry. Written more for herself than you, explaining what had happened. Interesting…A confession. Why didn’t you tell me Kiana was the spy?”

  I plopped on the couch. “A lot has happened since I last saw you.”

  “Do you want to know her reasons for—”

  “No. Four people were recycled because of her. I’ve no desire to hear her pathetic excuses.”

  He frowned at me. “Someday you’ll want to know.”

  “Then I will ask you. It’s not important right now—she isn’t one of the uppers who have agreed to help us.”

  Domotor brightened when he heard this, and I explained what I had been doing in the upper levels, but I didn’t tell him Doctor Lamont’s name or Riley’s cousin. He knew of the others, but those two were new. Despite my conviction that Kiana was responsible for my father and Riley’s mother’s fates because she had spied for the Travas, Domotor had been the one to name them.

  “Excellent news,” he said when I finished updating him. “Just imagine, we’ll open Gateway and usher out all the scrubs and uppers who want to go, leaving behind the Travas with no one to rule.”

  I laughed at the humorous picture.

  After I escorted Logan back to his barrack, I borrowed a few supplies from maintenance, filled my tool belt and headed to the Gap. With visions of blue ceilings and grass rugs filling my mind, I didn’t stop until I reached the outer wall near Quad G1—Gateway’s location.

  I removed my new flashlight and shone it on the insulation. The thick yellow foam rippled on the wall, and I couldn’t see any marks indicating a doorway underneath. Starting at the southwest corner, I sprayed water from the floor to level two’s support beams and worked my way to the left. Made from vegetable starch, the biodegradable foam dissolved and dripped. It didn’t take long to realize two bottles of water wouldn’t be enough. One meter thick foam had been sprayed onto the wall.

  When the bottles were empty, I pulled the insulation off. The bottom layers were brittle and easy to break apart with my new screwdriver. Logan had said Gateway would be between three to four meters from the corner. I planned to clear at least five meters.

  The air around me cooled as I worked. My breath made clouds, but the cold felt good against my sweaty skin. Foam piled on the ground, and I reveled in the effort.

  Bits of foam clung to my student’s uniform and hair. I stopped well past four meters. Panting in the icy air, I grabbed my light. The beam lit specks of floating insulation. My attention focu
sed on the exposed wall as I swept the light across the surface.

  Its appearance matched the interior walls—metal panels riveted together with support beams. No obvious doorway. I searched for a near-invisible hatch.

  Nothing.

  I drew in a deep breath. Once again, I scanned the wall, but this time I started from the corner and concentrated on each section in a systematic way.

  Nothing.

  Emotions soured, but I ignored them. We had coordinates and codes and pictures. I ripped another meter of insulation from the wall.

  Nothing.

  We had uppers willing to risk their lives and knew which colored buttons to use to return to Inside. Another meter piled on the floor. I choked on the dust, but pulled off another half meter convinced it would be here. It had to be. Otherwise, I would have made the worst mistake of my entire life. Believing before seeing. Another meter landed on the pile.

  Nothing.

  I lost track of how long I worked or of how many meters of wall I exposed or of how many times I scanned the wall. My body transformed into a machine with one task: find Gateway.

  Eventually the fuel was depleted and the machine broke down. It was unable to complete its task. There was nothing to find.

  20

  I HAD NO RECOLLECTION OF LEAVING THE GAP, OR the trip back to Riley’s storeroom. My body felt insubstantial as if crushed into powder and reduced to a layer of dust to be sucked up by a cleaning troll.

  Rooting under the couch, I pulled Zippy from his hiding place. Tufts of dust clung to his brushes. I hefted the troll, cradling his weight. The hunt for Gateway had been a whirlwind. A thrill of risks, and I had been swept up by the excitement. I had allowed myself to believe in something that didn’t exist. Gateway.

  Cog. I’d already decided to lie and tell him we found Gateway. It would give him a moment of joy before Vinco played with him again and the Pop Cops recycled him.

  I resisted the urge to hide in the pipes. Instead, I sat in the storeroom, savoring an ill humor with the hope I could build up an immunity to it and form another metal layer around my heart. The first one was ill-wrought and had cracked with ease.