Inside

by Maria V. Snyder

  I lay in bed, curled under the sheet. Action was required. Plans needed to be made. A tracer to trick. I couldn’t let the Controllers or the Committee ruin what I had worked so hard for. What Cogon had died for. I hadn’t wanted the responsibility. No. If I was being honest, I had been…or rather was still terrified of the responsibility. And despite what Anne-Jade had said, it wasn’t too late.

  But for now, I needed to grieve for the loss of the world I had imagined with the Committee in charge. For the loss of Riley. And Sheepy.

  Lamont woke me. “An ISF officer is here to check on you.”

  “Why?” I blinked. Her presence had triggered the daylights.

  “You haven’t moved in eighteen hours.”

  An impressive amount of sulking time.

  Standing behind Lamont, an ISF officer nodded to me. “Just making sure you’re okay,” he said.

  “Yeah right. You’re more worried I’ve found a way to fool the tracer,” I said.

  He dropped the pretense. “AJ warned us not to underestimate you.”

  “AJ?”

  “Anne-Jade.”

  “Cute. Yet you still waited eighteen hours.”

  “The doctor’s word was sufficient until she also became alarmed as well.”

  “Guess I was tired.” I stretched my stiff muscles—the downside of being inactive for so long. However, my shoulder no longer ached, the swelling in my cheek had gone down and scabs covered the two cuts—the upside.

  “You should shower and eat. When you’re done, I need help with a couple patients,” Lamont said. She shooed the ISF officer out as she left.

  Ah, the glamorous life of an intern. I pushed the covers back and padded through the sitting area to the kitchen. Rebel that I was, I ate first then showered. Sad and pathetic.

  The water cleared my mind. I considered how to bypass the tracer as I helped Lamont with routine tasks. Rolling clean bandages, I figured I needed to find a way to keep it at a constant thirty-seven degrees and to move it around, but only on level three.

  Inserting it into another person would work. The next time Lamont has surgery, I could slip it in. Except as soon as the patient left this level, the ISF would pounce on the poor unsuspecting person. Avoiding the brig was imperative.

  I could use the newborn warmer, parking it in my room when I wanted to explore. But if it didn’t eventually move, the ISF would be suspicious. Absently, I reached to play with my pendant only to encounter smooth skin. The jolt of pain reminded me of when Vinco’s knife had found a sensitive spot.

  I wrenched my thoughts back to my current problem. The warmer could work if I moved it around the infirmary, wheeled it to the cafeteria and other areas on level three. Searching the patient area, exam room and surgery, I couldn’t find it.

  “Looking for something?” Lamont asked when I exited the surgery.

  “The newborn warmer.”

  She gave me a rueful smile. “Confiscated by the ISF.”

  Damn. “What if we need it?”

  “They’ll bring it back only when I have a newborn. We do have a few pregnant patients, but they’re not due for weeks.”

  So much for that idea. Again I grabbed for the pendant without thinking.

  Lamont noticed the gesture. “Did you lose your necklace in the riot?”

  “No. I lost it diffusing the bomb.”

  “Bomb?” Her voice squeaked. “The one found in the waste-handling plant? You were there? But I thought the riot…”

  “I had a busy week.”

  She stared at me for a few seconds. “I can only imagine.” She gestured to my neck. “Is Riley upset that you lost it? Is that why he hasn’t come around?”

  Normally, I would have snapped at her, telling her to mind her own business. But I couldn’t produce the energy. Instead I had a moment of weakness and told her about the choice I had made when disarming the bomb.

  She drummed her fingers on the exam table. “I think I would have done the same thing. This Bubba Boom is an expert in explosives after all.”

  “Yeah, but it was a wiring problem. That’s Riley’s area of expertise.” I rubbed the spot where the tracer had been inserted. “Riley thinks I have a death wish. He may be right.” I stared at the floor. “Ever since Cogon floated away…I keep thinking it should have been me. He wouldn’t have been afraid to guide us through all these changes. He would have united the uppers and lowers by now. Sabotage and riots would never have happened if Cog was here.”

  “And what would killing yourself accomplish?” Lamont asked. When I didn’t answer, she continued. “It won’t bring him back. Cogon is gone. And from a purely medical point of view, you don’t have a death wish. If you did, you wouldn’t have fought for every single breath in those first critical hours after the fire. Your skin wouldn’t have healed as fast as it did.”

  Even though I hated to admit it, she had a point. And damn it. I felt a little better. Looking up, I was going to thank her, but she had her doctor’s purse on her lips as if reviewing a diagnosis in her mind.

  “Who also has Cogon’s way with people?” she asked.

  “Hank from maintenance. Emek’s people love him. And Riley. He’s been able to work with both uppers and scrubs.”

  “Then you need—”

  I waved my arm. “I can’t do anything. Remember? I’m stuck here.”

  “Let’s pretend you don’t have the tracer. What would you do first?”

  “I’d find Logan, rescue him and set him up at a computer terminal to bypass the Controllers.”

  “What if he can’t see?”

  “Then I’d find someone who knows enough about computers to sit next to him and be his eyes.”

  “Riley?”

  “No. He’s good, but not Logan good.” I considered.

  “Your father was Logan good.” Pride filled her voice.

  I waited for the pain and anger to flair inside me, but only sadness touched. However, his name reminded me of another. “Domotor would be perfect.”

  “Would he agree to help?”

  I remembered his anger. He couldn’t be content taking orders from the Controllers. “Yes.”

  “Then it’s an excellent plan. Let’s get started.” Lamont headed for the surgery, pushing through the double doors.

  Curious, I followed her. “But—”

  She handed me two syringes. “I think a local anesthetic should be enough. Grab the lidocaine and alcohol wipes.” Then she collected a few other supplies—sutures, scalpel and long curved tweezers.

  Understanding hit me hard; I grabbed the operating table to steady myself. “You realize the risk you’re taking?”

  “There’s no risk to me. You’re the one who will be in danger of being thrown into the brig. And you’ll still need to work here so you’re visible to others. Otherwise, they’ll get suspicious.”

  “You’ll have to stay on level three.”

  She shrugged it off. “I’m always here anyway.”

  The final concern was mine alone. Could I trust her? No. But she offered the only possible solution. If I wanted to make Cogon…and Riley proud of me, I couldn’t give up.

  With the two of us working together, it didn’t take long to remove the tracer from my arm and implant it in Lamont’s. The device had only been exposed to the ambient air for a second.

  Just to be sure, I stayed and worked in the infirmary for the next six hours. Then we went to the cafeteria in Quad G3 with the intent to eat and then stock up on food for our kitchen.

  Riley’s brother Blake worked behind the counter, serving soup. His resemblance to Riley sent a flash of pain across my heart.

  I wondered what he was doing up here. “New job?” I asked him, trying to sound casual. />
  “Same job, new location.” He shrugged then tilted his head to the people sitting at the tables. “Change of scenery. Change is good. Right?”

  “Uh…yeah.” I wondered what he was implying. Was he glad Riley and I were no longer together? Hard to tell. I didn’t know Blake that well.

  After our excursion to the cafeteria I took a brief nap, then changed into my skin-tight uniform. As long as Lamont stayed in our suite or in the infirmary the ISF shouldn’t suspect anything.

  I climbed into the air duct, grinning.

  The Queen of the Pipes has returned.

  There weren’t many hiding places in Inside. I doubted the Committee knew the locations, but I didn’t want to leave anything to chance so I ruled them out right away. They had probably taken him to an empty apartment. Since I had been confined to level three, I suspected he would be on level four. The Travas filled Sector D4, so that meant I had to search Sectors E4 and F4. Doable in the time I had.

  I tried not to think about apartment number three-six-nine-five in Sector E4 as I carefully traveled through the air shafts and peered into rooms. At least there weren’t any air filters to bypass.

  After the rebellion we discovered that scrubbing air shafts and water pipes had been one of the jobs created purely for busy work. With a simple programming adjustment, the trolls cleaned the shafts and pipes without a scrub minder. Which worked well for me now.

  When I reached Riley’s apartment, I paused for only a moment. The empty living area and bedroom matched the hollow feeling in my heart. I didn’t see Sheepy and wondered where he was. Moving on, I finished searching Sector E4 and crossed into F4.

  I found Logan in a small room in the far northeast corner of Sector F. Sprawled on the couch, his arm covered his eyes. His space also had a bed, refrigerator and a tiny washroom. The computer station had a screen, but no keyboard or box.

  No guards, but I checked the hallway to make sure. A complex series of locks had been installed on his door. And when I returned to the air vent, I noticed the thick bolts securing it. What I worried most about were microphones and other sensors.

  The air shaft was free of any sensors, and knowing Logan, any sensors within his reach would be dismantled by now.

  So taking a chance, I said his name.

  He sat up and squinted. “Trella?”

  “Up here,” I said.

  He jumped to his feet and whooped. “I knew you’d find me!” No microphones then. “Come down! It’s safe.”

  “I can’t.” I explained about the bolts. “Next time I’ll bring my diamond wire.”

  “Oh.” He dropped back onto the couch. “I can’t escape anyway.”

  “Did they inject you with a tracer?”

  “Yep. Nothing like having your own technology bite you in the ass. If you see Anne-Jade can you punch her in the face for me?”

  “She didn’t lock you in there.” I explained about the Controllers.

  “The Travas have a link into the network,” he said right away.

  “That’s what I thought. How’s your eyesight?”

  “Better, I can see about a meter so I can read the monitor if I had a working computer.”

  “Could you fix the damage to the network?”

  “Of course. First thing I did when we gained control of the computer systems was to secure backup in case something like this happened.”

  I considered his problem. “You can’t leave, but I can bring you what you need. Will you be able to hide it when your keepers come to check on you?”

  “I should with proper warning.” He surged to his feet, excited. “I have a sweet little sensor you can install in the ceiling of the hallway, and I’ll need—”

  “Slow down, Logan. Remember it’s me. Start with the most important and we’ll work from there.”

  He listed several items and I determined how many trips I would need.

  “Zippy can pull the skid I rigged,” Logan said in excitement. “Then you can bring more.”

  “Where’s Zippy?” I hadn’t seen the little cleaning troll since the rebellion.

  “Under the bed in my room.”

  Ugh. Too close to the Committee for my comfort, but almost all the gadgets he needed could be found there, including the computer.

  “Okay, Logan. I’ll be back with your supplies, but it may be a while.” I used more time to locate Logan than planned so I hurried back through the shafts as fast as I could without making noise, which wasn’t very fast at all.

  At least I arrived in my room without encountering trouble. It was hour thirty-five. I changed my clothes and joined Lamont in the exam room. She helped an elderly man down from the table.

  “I’m not sure when your ears will stop ringing, Ben,” she said. “You were close to the blast and are lucky you didn’t lose your hearing.” Lamont handed him a bottle of small white pills. “Try these, one pill every ten hours. They might help.”

  He thanked her and shuffled through the patient room.

  She watched him go then said, “When we move to a bigger place, I’d like a separate waiting room for walk-ins.”

  “You should be the one to design it,” I said. “Do you know how to use the blueprint program?”

  “No.”

  “Here, I’ll show you.” I went into her office and sat at the computer. The blueprint program was the only one I used. After the rebellion, Hank had me draw out the layout of the Gap between levels.

  “You might have trouble,” she said. “Something’s wrong with the network. I can’t access patient records right now.”

  I wondered why the Controllers would block them. No idea, but the program I sought popped up without hesitation, and I demonstrated to Lamont how easy it was to draw lines and type in labels.

  I surrendered the chair to her. She caught on pretty quick. “This is fun.”

  Her comment reminded me of my trip through the shafts. I asked her if she had any problems while I was gone.

  “Not really,” she said.

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “One man stopped by to talk to you, but I said you were asleep and he said he’d come back later.”

  “ISF?”

  “No. Big guy with freckles. Kind of cute.”

  Bubba Boom. I wondered why he came by.

  “No trouble from him,” she said. “But what if the ISF comes by and you’re not here?”

  That could be a problem.

  “I need a way to contact you,” Lamont said.

  I touched my earlobe, but remembered I’d lost my receiver in the riot, and the microphone on my uniform had been thrown into a hazardous waste bag. “I’ll see what I can find.”

  “Did you locate Logan?”

  “Not yet.” I lied, but thought the less she knew the better.

  I spent the rest of week 147,023 fetching supplies for Logan. Sneaking into his room next to the main Control Room caused my pulse to race. And even though I had been here two times before, I still sweated.

  This last trip was for me. I had planted all those mics and they remained in position. Why not listen in? Logan had a device I could use. I also picked up a set of communication buttons and receivers for me and Lamont. Logan would program them so no one could overhear our conversations.

  Back in the duct, I used Zippy to haul the supplies. Round with cleaning brushes and a vacuum, he rolled along, pulling the skid. The noise hadn’t bothered anyone so far. I’d encountered a few other cleaning trolls in the air ducts.

  I reached Logan’s without incident and opened the vent. The diamond wire had sawed through the bolts and we had rigged them to appear as if they still secured the vent. I dropped the supplies I brought to him, then swung down. He had managed to disguise most
of his new toys. I hoped his keepers wouldn’t check under his bed or under the couch.

  “Who brings your food? ISF?” I asked him.

  “No. The same two guys. Uppers, but not part of the ISF and I would know. Anne-Jade had me check into the background for all her officers to make sure they were trustworthy.” He chuckled. “They’re armed with stunners, but they have no idea their weapons won’t work in here.”

  “Any luck?” I pointed to his computer. It looked the same, but according to Logan, he had installed all the important components behind the screen and the keyboard could be hidden before all the locks on the door were opened.

  “No. They have built a wall around the important systems. I’m trying to find a way to slip inside without anyone noticing, but it’s been difficult.” He rummaged in the cushions of the couch, pulling out a long glass tube. It resembled a light bulb. He handed it to me. “A Trava computer in Sector D4 has to be connected to the network. Use that to find which one.”

  “How?”

  “Get as close as possible and if the tube glows green, you’ve found it. Then…” He knelt next to his bed and reached under the mattress. Logan tossed me a small box. “Insert that into Zippy’s undercarriage and he should be able to knock out that computer.”

  “Like when I used him to disable all the weapons in the Control Room?”

  “Yep.” He straightened and wiped the dust from his pants.

  “Why not use a stronger pulse and hit all the computers in Sector D4 at once?”

  “It’s too risky over a large area.”

  “But after the computer’s zapped, you’ll be able to take back control?”

  “Don’t see why not.”

  Between sleeping, working for Lamont and searching Sector D4, I didn’t have much time for listening to the mics or for implementing the other part of my plan—talking to Hank and Emek. I tried to think of a better way to organize my time.

  Logan picked up the button mic I had brought and fiddled with it. He snapped it onto my uniform. “All you have to do is turn it once to the right and it’ll go to this receiver only.” Dropping a small earring into my palm, he grabbed the other mic, adjusted it and gave it to me. I placed the set into my tool belt.