Outside In

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Outside In Page 23

by Maria V. Snyder


  It was a beautiful raid. Anne-Jade and her lieutenants charged into the plant and stunned most of the maintenance workers before they knew what hit them. A couple of Hank’s men fought back, swinging large wrenches. The supervisor pulled his stunner and disabled a few of Jacy’s goons before Anne-Jade shot him.

  By the time I jumped down from the air shaft, the fight was over. We had taken the plant.

  “We have the air plant. What’s next?” Anne-Jade asked.

  “We disconnect the computer and work the controls the old-fashioned way.”

  “Old-fashioned?” she asked.

  “Manually.”

  “You can do that?”

  “Not me. Riley.” I pointed. He and Sloan had unscrewed the main console’s covering. They bent over the jumble of wires and circuits with rubber-handled pliers. “Logan’s talking him through it right now.”

  Anne-Jade acted a bit strange. She kept glancing at the entrance where two of her lieutenants guarded the door. And she kept tugging the collar of her uniform as if it chafed her skin.

  “Logan sounded in his glory when I talked to him earlier,” Anne-Jade said.

  “He’s been exploring and learning all about the history of Inside and how it works. It’s only a matter of time until we get back control of our life systems, and send the Outsiders away.”

  “I wish I’d known your plans before you rescued Logan,” Anne-Jade said.

  “We’ve been sort of making them up on the fly. Why?”

  Anne-Jade touched her neck. “When they had him in the brig on level five, the Outsiders threatened to put a command collar on him. You know he would have been a mess. He doesn’t do well with pain.”

  “What are you trying to tell me?” I asked, even though I had my suspicions and they weren’t pleasant.

  “I’m wearing the collar meant for him. I agreed to—”

  “Work for us,” a familiar voice said.

  I turned. Hank, Bubba Boom and Ponife stood in the doorway.

  19

  ANNE-JADE AIMED HER STUNNER AT RILEY. HE DIDN’T have an anti-stunner. I yelled a warning to him as I knocked her arm aside, causing her to miss. Riley ducked behind the console.

  She cursed and pointed the gun at me. Now I knew why I didn’t get an anti-stunner as well. “Sorry, Trella. I really am. I guess I lost faith in the Force of Sheep.”

  Hank’s people ran into the plant, shouting at Jacy’s goons to surrender. They were armed with kill-zappers.

  Hank, Bubba Boom and Ponife drew closer to us. I glanced around. All the members of our force—except Anne-Jade’s men—knelt on the floor with their hands behind their heads.

  I met Riley’s gaze. He inclined his head toward the air console. A tendril of smoke rose from it.

  Lowering my voice, I said to her, “We know how to disable the collar.”

  She covered her surprise as Hank and his smug entourage reached us. Ponife wore the standard off-duty clothes of an upper, but there was no hiding his sickly-colored skin.

  The smoke thickened and puffed from the console.

  Riley shouted, “Fire,” and dove to the floor as a bright light flashed.

  I followed his example. A microsecond later a boom shook the room. A wave of energy knocked anyone on their feet to the ground. Riley and a few others bolted toward the door during the ensuing confusion. I was close behind them when a sharp pain ringed my neck, knocking me flat. We hadn’t disabled my collar after all. And now, Hank and the Outsiders knew our plans to bypass the computer. Knew about the instructions on the walls of the port.

  They had let me escape and allowed Logan to be rescued. A ruse to discover Jacy and Riley’s strategy. It had worked. I’d been a fool.

  Awareness crept back. Shapes coalesced from my haze of agony and sharpened into Hank and Ponife. Their words reached me, but failed to make sense inside my head until I concentrated. My memory returned. I had been taken to another cell on level 5—this one without any vents—and questioned. Repeatedly.

  “Her vitals off the scale. Her heart will not…tolerate more at this time,” Ponife said. “Another…session will stop it.”

  Hank hovered over me. “Do you understand him? One more blast and you’ll die.” I nodded.

  “Last chance, Trella. Where are Riley and Jacy?”

  “Level one.” My words were just audible.

  Hank leaned close. “Where on level one?”

  “Sector…”

  He cocked his head to the side to hear me better.

  “Sector…” I wrapped my hands around his throat and squeezed with all my strength.

  Ponife twisted the metal X and my body numbed from my neck down. The up side—no more pain. The down—Hank removed my hands.

  “Damn, she’s stubborn,” Hank said, rubbing his throat.

  “We can threaten to harm her friend… Anne-Jade wears a collar,” Ponife said.

  “I don’t think they’re friends anymore. But…” He considered. “We can find someone she does care about. Release her.”

  Feeling returned in a sudden rush. I gasped as pins and needles attacked my skin. But the pain was a small distraction compared to the self-satisfied gleam in Hank’s eyes.

  “You can tell us where your boyfriend is hiding, or Bubba Boom will invite your mother up here for a little visit.”

  An impotent fury burned in the pit of my stomach. I bit my lip. “Level one, Sector H1.”

  “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?” Hank’s condescending tone grated on my nerves. He lumbered to his feet and moved toward the door.

  “Why didn’t the EMP disable the collar?” I asked Ponife before he could follow Hank.

  “It is protected,” he said.

  I ran my fingers over it. “What’s it made of?”

  “Living metal. An ingenious piece of technology we have perfected.”

  After they had secured the cell’s door, I lay on the mat and wondered how long it would be until they figured out I had sent them to the waste-handling plant. Not to any hiding places. I didn’t know Riley’s or Jacy’s location.

  Then it occurred to me that if my collar had been working all along, Ponife knew all the places I’d been. Hank hadn’t asked about the Expanse or the port. Which might mean Ponife had kept that information from him. An interesting possibility that I may be able to use to my advantage.

  Ponife returned hours later with Fosord, the other Outsider. No Hank. I pushed up to my elbow and regarded them. They both wore uppers’ clothes and solemn expressions. Ponife held the metal X in his right hand.

  Fosord gestured to me. “Come.”

  No real choice, I gained my feet and followed Fosord. Ponife stayed behind me as we navigated the brig on level five. The closed doors with the red light glowing near the lock meant the cell was occupied. I stopped counting after ten—too depressing.

  At one door, Fosord stopped and slid back the metal panel.

  “Look,” he said.

  Dread rose like bile in my throat. I swallowed it down. Peering into the cell, I saw Jacy. Bruises covered his face and he tugged at something invisible around his neck—probably a collar. Fosord shut the panel before I could say anything.

  He did the same thing at the next cell. I refused to move, but his gaze slid behind me.

  “Trella,” Ponife warned.

  Bracing for another shock, I glanced inside. Logan sat on the mat with his head buried in his hands. We moved to the next cell. Riley lay on a mat as if asleep, but he could have been unconscious. Blood dripped from a large gash across his forehead and temple. My legs refused to hold me up and I sank to the ground. Fosord closed the panel.

  Ponife crouched next to me. “See? We have all your friends. You will cooperate now.”

  “You don’t need me,” I said. “Unless you have injured?”

  “No. Come.”

  Once again wedged between the Outsiders, we left the brig and walked through level five toward Quad A5. The hallways were filled with Outsiders. I shouldn’t h
ave been surprised. Many of them still wore their white suits and helmets.

  “They’re getting used to the air,” Ponife said.

  We climbed up to the top of the half-completed level ten. I stopped in amazement. Bright daylights filled the Expanse, reflecting off the ceiling. And the Outsiders had attached a lift to the west Wall, explaining the smooth groove and tracks I had noticed on one of my early explorations.

  An odd thought occurred to me. It seemed we’ve been stumbling around in the dark for thousands of weeks, while these Outsiders had no trouble making everything work for them. Maybe our ancestors had stolen this ship from them.

  I turned to Ponife. “Why didn’t you try to talk to us? We probably could have worked out an agreement between us.”

  “We do not want to be…a part of your world. We want our ship back.”

  His answer confused me. “You want to be in charge, right? And make the rules?”

  Ponife attempted to smile. I shuddered at the creepy effort and hoped he wouldn’t do it again. “No. We want our ship back and you…gone.”

  Oh. No. “As in gone gone?”

  “Like your ancestors had done to us.” He gestured to the ceiling. “Put you in transports with little food and supplies and send you all out to die in space.”

  My emotions flipped from horrified to terrified and back. “Why did they—”

  “It does not matter why!” Fosord shouted, grabbing my shirt and slamming me into the Wall. “No crime deserves such punishment. Your people are…savages. You kill your own and crush them into…pulp.”

  I thought it best not to argue with him.

  He released me. “Tell her,” he said to Ponife.

  “You will help us find everyone,” he said. “Hank says you know all the hiding places. We want everyone gone.”

  Even overwhelmed with the information, I still couldn’t help asking, “Even Hank?”

  “Yes. Everyone,” Fosord snapped.

  Ponife glared at him. Fosord wasn’t supposed to tell me that. Good to know they can make mistakes.

  “Does Hank know?” I asked.

  “No. And you will not tell him,” Ponife said. He held up the X. “Understand?”

  “Yes.” I just needed a little time alone with Ponife and his X. For him to forget to keep his distance from me. Just one lapse in judgment.

  Fosord led us onto the lift. It rose up the Wall. Hanging next to it in the bright daylights was my safety rope. We reached the ladder and the pulley remained in place.

  “You are certainly resourceful…for a savage,” Fosord said to me.

  A section of the ceiling had been removed. The lift shot through the gap and stopped level with the floor. Outsiders milled around the Bubble…er…transport vehicles.

  “We are preparing them for your…journey,” Ponife explained.

  “Will we know how to operate them?”

  “Yes. Several of your people are quite…able,” Fosord said.

  “When are we leaving?”

  “As soon as the Transmission is repaired. We will not make the same mistake and let you catch us.” Ponife gestured to the bays. “Hank says you did not know this place, or Outer Space existed until recently?” He seemed amused.

  “We had a bit of trouble about fifteen thousand weeks ago.”

  Ponife and Fosord exchanged a glance. Interesting.

  “What trouble?” Ponife asked.

  “Another rebellion. According to the records, saboteurs deleted a bunch of computer files. The Trava family defeated them and took over control of Inside to avoid any more issues. We thought the sabotage was a ruse by the Trava family to justify their takeover, but…” I shrugged. “Maybe it had happened. We thought the Controllers were a fabrication as well.”

  Another look passed between the Outsiders.

  “There is some truth. We controlled all Inside’s mechanical and life systems.” Ponife thumped his chest. “While the nine families bred like rabbits and took care of all the soft jobs…” He cast about as if looking for the right words. “Soft like growing and cooking food, cleaning clothing and raising children. The Trava family were the saboteurs. They wanted more.” His speech had winded him even though, of the two, he had seemed to adjust to our air faster.

  I mulled over his story. Fosord mentioned a crime when he had been upset, which didn’t match this explanation at all.

  When he regained his breath, I asked, “Why are you working with Karla Trava then?”

  “She offered her help,” Fosord answered instead.

  “But you can’t trust her.”

  “She doesn’t know. The Trava family created a new history and deleted all records of the old. After enough time passed and the following generations grew up learning this false history, no one questioned it,” Ponife said.

  Yet they had. Stories of Gateway had persisted. The Controllers had transformed into mythical beings. Beings the Travas listened to. As Logan had explained, the Controllers were Inside’s operating parameters, fail-safes and the keeper of directives set by the builders. If I believed Logan—which I did—then when the Travas took over, they naturally accessed the Controller files to learn how to run our world.

  So who were the Outsiders?

  “Why are you telling me this?” I asked.

  “Once all your people are on the ships, you can tell the others why they have been exiled,” Ponife said.

  “Really? Sounds like you’re feeling guilty.” The comment sailed from my mouth without censure. Big mistake.

  Their expressions hardened.

  “We do not tolerate insolence.” Ponife played with the X, bending the one leg back and forth.

  The first wave of pain brought me to my knees. The second jolt forced me to the floor and the third seized my muscles and wouldn’t let go. Each one lasted longer than the last until they all blurred together.

  I woke back in my cell. As I lay on the mat, I reviewed everything Ponife had told me. Besides being touchy over the reason for their exile, all I had was their version of the events fifteen thousand weeks ago. I tried to think of a way to counter their plans, but failed to come up with a brilliant strategy.

  Time passed and I wasn’t any closer to a solution. I marked the hours by the arrival of food and water. The meals were delivered on trays slid through the panel into my cell. If Hank would believe me, I’d tell him he was going to be exiled with the rest of us. But Hank never came to my cell without Ponife.

  The metallic scrape of my panel opening woke me from a light doze. A hand held the end of the tray. I recognized the thick callused fingers and an idea popped into my head. I removed the meal and seized his wrist, yanking his arm inside my cell.

  The element of surprise would only net me a few seconds. “Listen, please,” I said before Bubba Boom could break free. “One minute.”

  He stopped. “Thirty seconds,” Bubba Boom said.

  “You once told me the Controllers wouldn’t torture or trick people. But I’ve been tortured and tricked.”

  “You lied and were spying for Jacy,” he said.

  “So? When the Committee was in charge, we didn’t torture or trick the Travas. We treated them well. Anne-Jade wouldn’t even resort to strong-arm methods to get them to help us repair the Transmission. And we had no plans to recycle the Travas either.”

  “The Controllers won’t kill anyone. You’re trying to confuse me.”

  “No, I’m not. Think about it, Bubba Boom. I’m at Ponife’s mercy. He’s forcing my cooperation. Just like the Pop Cops did to you long ago.”

  Silence. I pressed my advantage. “You also told me we’re their children who have run away. Do you even know why we ran?” I released his arm.

  Bubba Boom drew it back and closed the panel. I hoped he would think about what I had said, but I had no idea if I had reached him or not.

  A few meals later, my panel slid open. No tray came through, but Bubba Boom peered at me from the other side.

  “The Transmission is repaired,”
he said.

  No time left. No idea how to stop the Outsiders. No hope of rescue. Anyone who had the resources or determination had been captured.

  “Did they tell you what’s next?” I asked.

  “Yes.” He waited.

  “Are they still planning to send everyone out into Outer Space?” I asked.

  “How do you know?”

  “Ponife told me.”

  “Did he tell you that those who aided the Controllers will be allowed to stay?”

  “No. Fosord said everyone.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “I wish I were.”

  Bubba Boom shut the panel.

  The next time my door opened, Ponife rushed in. His agitation was clear. I braced for pain, but he yanked me to my feet and dragged me from the cell. It was the first time he had touched me. He was surprisingly strong. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the X in his hand.

  He hurried me to a room in Sector E5. Five Outsiders lay on a row of beds. Blood drooled from their mouths and they were all curled on their sides as if in agony. Bubba Boom, Hank and a few others hovered nearby, but they looked panicked.

  I didn’t wait for orders. Running to the closest Outsider, I felt her pulse. It raced and her skin felt clammy. She shook as a spasm seized her muscles. I opened her eyes. The whites were stained red.

  “They had acclimated and were doing fine,” Ponife said.

  “We need to get them to Doctor Lamont, now.” I shouted to Hank and Bubba Boom to help me carry them. The beds didn’t have wheels.

  They jerked, but remained frozen in place.

  “Hurry! They’re dying,” I said.

  Ponife said, “We will bring the doctor—”

  “No. She’ll need access to her medicines and equipment.” I pulled the slight female Outsider upright and managed to get her weight over my shoulders.

  Bubba Boom followed my example and swept one of the Outsiders up in his arms. Without waiting to see if the others followed, I bolted for the lift between Quad A5 and Sector B5.

 

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