Inside

by Maria V. Snyder

  Understanding lit his eyes and another emotion softened his posture. When I realized he pitied me, I crossed my arms over my chest to keep myself from punching Riley in the face.

  “Since we already did a partial board-ectomy, let’s just move on. What do you say, Sheepy?” Riley pressed his nose against the sheep’s as if communicating with the stuffed toy telepathically. He pursed his lips and nodded. “Sheepy says he’s hungry.” He quirked a smile at me. “Sorry. Oh…wait.” Once again, Riley stared at his toy. “Sheepy also says he doesn’t believe you’re a stupid scrub. In fact, he thinks you’re quite smart and if you say otherwise, he’ll bite you on the leg.”

  Amused, I huffed in mock outrage. “Tell Sheepy that if he bites me on the leg, I’ll send Zippy after him.”

  “Zippy?”

  “My little cleaning troll. He has a nasty habit of shredding dust bunnies.”

  He laughed. “Sheepy’s not going to back down. He meant what he said.” All humor evaporated from Riley. He pressed fingers into his right temple, wincing in pain. “My break’s over. I need to return to my station.” He met my gaze. “Did you come here for a reason?”

  “Yes. I need help…” How should I phrase the request?

  “Name it.”

  I stared at him. He used the exact same words I had when talking to Cog. Did he overhear us?

  “What? Did you expect me to say no?” His confusion seemed genuine.

  “I…”

  “I have to go.”

  I told him about needing a computer, but didn’t mention Logan’s name. “Preferably one located in an isolated area.”

  “I’ll see what I can do, and let you know during my next shift.” He strode to the door.

  “How?”

  He paused with his hand on the knob. “Come to our room, I’ll try and schedule my break time to coincide with your visit again, but you might have to wait a bit.”

  “You knew I was here?”

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  He gave me a mischievous smile. “Sheepy told me.”

  On my way back to level two, I checked to see what I had netted in the laundry chute. A couple shirts, three pants, a handful of undergarments and a Pop Cop’s uniform. I debated about the uniform as I sent the rest down. It could be a great disguise, but it also could be trouble. Did the Pop Cops keep track of their uniforms? Did they all recognize each other by sight? If a person wore a white kitchen uniform, I wouldn’t know if they were scrub or spy. Postponing my decision, I rerigged the net and left the uniform within its black web.

  I stopped at the cafeteria, pushing my way through the miasma of so many people gathered together. When I reached the serving scrub who had mentioned the clogged air shaft, I paused.

  “Your problem is fixed,” I said.

  He nodded.

  “Thanks.”

  He made eye contact and resumed filling the bowls with food. But he squared his shoulders, stood a little straighter and the barest hint of a smile settled on his face. The image of his smile hovered in my mind. Even though we had a limited variety of food, the kitchen scrubs worked hard to cook meals for the rest of us.

  Cogon had always thanked the servers, calling them by name as he moved through the line. I remembered being annoyed and impatient with him as he held up the rest of us who waited. Considering Cog’s present situation, I regretted every harsh word I’d said to him.

  I fought my way around filled tables, searching for a seat. Jacy and his buddies occupied an entire table. When I glanced back at them, Jacy patted the vacant seat next to him. Funny. There hadn’t been an empty one there a second before.

  Understanding the hint didn’t mean I would take the hint, I hesitated, but couldn’t produce a good reason to avoid him. I sat next to him.

  “The microphones are working well. Thanks,” Jacy said.

  “No problem.” I shoved a spoonful of green bean casserole into my mouth.

  “We’ve already gotten a few nuggets of useful intelligence. Do you think you could install a few more?” His casual tone didn’t match the intensity in his eyes.

  “Where?”

  “Over the Control Room and in the lifts.”

  “Monitoring Pop Cops not enough?”

  His gaze slid over the mass of scrubs. I copied him, trying to see the people through his viewpoint. Clusters of miserable expressions dominated, but a few smiles and a couple of laughing faces stood out from the crowd.

  “No. Not enough at all,” he said. “Can you do it?”

  “Sure.” I ate a few more scoops of casserole. When I realized I hadn’t even tasted the food, I slowed down and made a conscious effort to savor it. Not bad. Did the cooks change the recipe?

  “What do you want in return?” he asked.

  Interesting question. He dealt in information. “How about you tell me if you hear anything I would consider important through those microphones?”

  “Deal. In fact, I’ll start now. I heard Cog confessed to killing Broken Man and dismembering him.” Jacy watched my expression. “Gruesome, I agree. And despite the evidence the Pop Cops found, I don’t believe Cog is capable of harming anyone.” He gestured to the scrubs around us. “And neither do they. If Cog killed the Pop Cop, we all know it had to be an accident.”

  He waited, but I wasn’t going to confirm nor deny his theory.

  “Cog has taken the blame for everything. However, Lieutenant Commander Karla knows Cog is too big to fit into the air shaft above Broken Man’s room, and she’s determined to find the scrub who started this whole mess.” Jacy stared at me. “And do you know what Cogon did then?”

  Icy fingers of dread clutched my heart. “No.”

  “He saved your ass. Again. He told Karla that Roddie was in the air shaft.”

  Roddie? I spun the name around my mind, but failed to recognize him. “A friend of Cog’s?”

  “You don’t know who he is?” Jacy’s face creased as if he smelled a rotten stench.

  “Should I?”

  “You damn well should! He was the man who Karla kill-zapped at assembly 147,002. He was recycled because of you and you don’t even know his name!”

  Stunned, I lost the ability to even form a reply. He was right—when he…Roddie had been kill-zapped, all I had worried about was my own skin. Karla had claimed he lied to her, but I didn’t know why he had lied.

  Jacy answered my question before I could voice it. “Roddie told LC Karla Broken Man hid in the recycling plant to help Cog. When the Pop Cops discovered the ruse…well you know what Karla did. But Cog told Karla she had been too hasty in kill-zapping Roddie and he was in on the plan from the beginning.” Jacy leaned closer to me. “Karla didn’t want to believe the explanation. Too easy, she said. But her boss ordered her to close the case. So you…” He jabbed me in the shoulder with a stiff finger. “You are clear. Unless you do something stupid, you’re no longer a suspect.”

  He grabbed his tray and stood. “I hope you’re worth the effort. I hope you manage to do something with all of this, because as a human being, you’re worthless.” Walking away with his cronies in tow, Jacy didn’t look back.

  The seats at the table remained empty as I moved the food around my plate, building heaps and creating designs out of the cold vestiges of my casserole. The bell sounded for the new work shift, jarring me from my morbid thoughts.

  I hurried to my assigned ducts and went through the motions. Insert cleaning troll, turn on and follow. Turn off troll, remove and lug to the next shaft. Gratitude to Cog for taking the heat off me warred with Jacy’s admonishments. Worthless might be the right word for me. Events had spun beyond my control. I relied on Logan and Riley to reach the next step.

  I dragged the troll to the cleaning closet
when my shift ended. Every muscle in my body ached and my head felt as if it were stuffed with wet towels. I wanted to find a warm spot and sleep, but Riley worked the odd-hour shift and I needed to climb to our room.

  Our room. I stifled a laugh. Riley’s name, not mine for where we met. The trip was a hard slog. Bluelight from the room shone through the vents and, after checking for ambushes, I dropped to the couch. White daylights switched on. My tired brain connected the dots and linked the motion sensor with Riley’s precognitive knowledge of my arrival. Too bad. I liked his explanation better.

  After scanning the room, the only change of note was the presence of Mama Sheepy. A twin of Sheepy except for her larger size. He rested in the space under her belly and between her legs, protected and safe. Mama Sheepy’s wool was flat in the middle as if she had been used as a pillow. An image of a young Riley with his black hair mussed, sleeping on Mama while clutching Sheepy formed in my head. I braced for a stab of jealousy, but I couldn’t produce the emotion. Instead, I kept the pleasant image in my mind as I carried the sheep family to the couch.

  Squirming into a comfortable position, I waited for Riley. I played with the sheep. Not caring that I had lost it and gone soft. Not caring about Gateway. Not caring about what might happen the rest of the week. I enjoyed the moment.

  “Trella.”

  His voice pierced the bubble of my dream. Cold reality replaced the feelings of warmth and safety. I blinked awake. Luckily Riley hovered over me and not a Pop Cop. Falling asleep up here was deadly. I wanted to blame the couch, but knew my erratic snatches of sleep were to blame.

  He straightened with a smile on his face. “Sheepy told me to let you alone, but I only have thirty minutes.”

  His stuffed toys were still clutched in my hands. I sat and placed them on the cushion next to me. Riley settled on the opposite end. I smoothed my hair and wondered how long he had been here before waking me.

  “I’ve been searching for a computer terminal, but every one up here is either in constant use or located in a populated area. The only option left is for you to use the terminal in my room.” He held up a hand, stopping my protests. “My father works even shifts. You can come during the next one.”

  “What about the rest of your family?”

  An odd half-flinch creased his face for a second. “He’s all I have, so no problem there.”

  “What happens if the Controllers find out we used your computer?”

  “As long as you don’t use my port, there is no way to prove I’m involved.”

  “It’s still a big risk.”

  “So is this.” Riley gestured to me and him.

  “Good point.” I considered his offer. “Where is your suite located?”

  “Sector E4.”

  I waited for the number, but he stared at the wall as if making mental calculations. “What’s your—”

  “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.