“The only problem with using the vampire boxes is we can’t put the results in the computer, and we don’t have enough wipe boards,” I said.
“Then we’ll do it the old-fashioned way.” Lamont gestured to the white metal walls. “They’re just giant wipe boards and we’ll have plenty of space.”
I laughed.
“Do you want to test everybody? Even those who know their family names already?”
“No. Just test the people in the lower levels. Will the boxes be able to tell which family they belong to from the blood sample?”
“The families have been mixing together for the last 145,025 weeks in the lower levels. It might be hard to find a clear match. We could do hybrid families like the Ashekos?”
“That would give us too many groups. I’d like to keep the numbers small. If possible, pick the dominate family and tell each person his or her family name.”
“And if I can’t?”
“Pick a family. Preferably one that is short on members.”
Lamont grinned then sobered. “One last problem. I can’t leave level three.”
“I’ll have to send them to you.”
“All eighteen thousand? How?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe Bubba Boom or Hank will have a suggestion.”
But I didn’t have a chance to ask them because soon after I finished my shift for Lamont at hour twenty, a series of loud metallic clangs rolled through Inside. The walls and floor shuddered with each, clearing the shelves and tripping anyone standing, including me. I had been in my room debating between sleeping and visiting Logan.
It wasn’t as severe as the Big Shake. More like Little Trembles.
I joined Lamont in the exam room.
“You think it was another bomb?” she asked.
“I hope not, but unless a piece of machinery malfunctioned there aren’t many other ways to cause that much movement.” And then I remembered Jacy had talked about creating a distraction. Bubba Boom had assured me Hank had changed his schedule and eliminated the need for a distraction. Perhaps Jacy suspected an ambush. Otherwise, it meant Jacy risked all our lives just because he could.
Helping Lamont prep for casualties, I worried about my friends. I would have liked to search for them, but already a few injured people had arrived.
I felt better when it became obvious that most of the injuries were minor. Cuts, bruises, a few broken arms and legs, a couple concussions and a number of sprained ankles and wrists. Nothing like the overwhelming deluge after the Big Shake. And no burns.
Sometime during the next ten hours, Bubba Boom stopped by. He had a small cut on his arm, but wouldn’t let me clean and bandage it.
He waved away my efforts. “It’s fine.”
When I asked about the others, he said, “I haven’t heard of any fatalities.” He pulled me outside and a few meters away from the infirmary. He lowered his voice. “The Transmission blew again. Jacy’s Travas either overloaded it by mistake or incompetence. Or they did it on purpose.”
“I heard them say fix.”
“Maybe that meant fix it so it won’t run again.”
“That bad?”
“It’s a mangled mess. We won’t know for a week or more.”
I wondered if Logan had watched the Travas with his Video Camera. Hank and Bubba Boom still thought he was in protective custody. They hadn’t asked how I would bypass Jacy’s Controllers, but at least they hunted for the active link.
“Any news about the link?” I asked.
“Nothing. And we’ll have to postpone the search until we can figure out what to do about the Transmission.”
Just what we needed—more delays. Jacy was bound to clamp down on our freedoms soon and release all the Travas. It still puzzled me why he hadn’t by now.
After the last of the injured had been seen and I had slept for over eight hours, I climbed into the ducts and visited Logan.
He pounced on me as soon as I dropped down into his room.
“I’ve been calling you for hours,” he said.
“I turned my receiver off so I could get some sleep. Sorry. Are you hurt?”
“No.” He twisted the bottom of his shirt, coiling it tight.
“What’s wrong? Did you see what happened—”
“Of course! I saw it all and I’ve been dying to talk to someone about it.” He paced and twisted. “I’m bored.”
I glanced at all his half-completed devices. “No. You’re lonely. I should stop by more often.”
He waved my comment away. “I’m sure you were busy.” He sprinted to the computer and tapped a few keys. “Come see what happened before the Video Camera died.”
The screen showed the long cylinder and control panel for the Transmission. Bluelights glowed in the empty room. Then the daylights flooded as three men dressed in maintenance coveralls approached the control panel. Logan pressed a key and the men moved super fast as they went back and forth from the panel to the machine.
“They worked on the Transmission for about an hour,” Logan said. “Here’s where it gets interesting.”
Their actions didn’t make sense to me, but there was no missing the bright flash just before the panel exploded. The men flew back and the screen turned dark.
“The energy pulse blew the Video Camera.” Logan swiveled around to me.
“Did they cause the explosion?”
“No. I studied that whole hour and it appeared to me they were repairing the damage from before.”
“What happened then?”
“The panel must have been rigged to blow when they reached a certain point.”
“Rigged by who? Did you see anyone else work on the machine?”
“No. The booby trap was in place before you installed the Video Camera.”
Booby trapped prior to the explosion? It didn’t make any sense. Everyone wanted the Transmission fixed. I pointed at Logan’s screen. “That first explosion set off a bunch of others.”
“Overkill, for sure. One was enough to obliterate the controls. Can you place another Video Camera in there for me? I’d like to see the extent of the damage.”
“A mangled mess, according to Bubba Boom.”
Logan sniffed. “I’d still like to see it for myself.”
“Okay.”
He gave me another Video Camera and a list of supplies. I climbed into the air shafts and crossed to the power plant. The Transmission was located in the southeast corner and the damage to the floor and walls from the first explosion hadn’t been repaired yet.
Finding an intact shaft was difficult, but I switched to the heating ducts, and managed to circumvent the open areas. As I drew closer, the sound of an argument reached me. Strained, worried and upset voices shouted at each other. I doubted anyone heard the replies if there were any.
I peeked through the vent. Most of the Committee members gathered around a hole in the middle of a control panel. The metal had been peeled back as if a giant fist had punched through the panel. Black scorch marks streaked along the sides and water dripped from everything. At least the sprinkler system had doused the fire. Unlike the fabric in the air filters, there wasn’t much here to burn. It looked bad, but not quite the mangled mess of Bubba Boom’s description.
Hank and a few of his crew stood together, enduring the ire of the Committee members. I waited until they left and placed the Video Camera just below the vent.
I returned to the infirmary and helped Lamont change bandages and feed patients. The follow-up care wasn’t as interesting to me as the initial treatment. Surgery fascinated me, but I’d be happy to let someone else take charge of a patient’s recovery. All part of my impatience. Another aspect of my personality that led me into trouble.
A fe
w hours into my shift, Domotor wheeled himself into the infirmary. Three shades past pale, his haggard expression regarded me with desperation. I yelled for Lamont and ran to him, asking him to list his symptoms, checking his pulse.
He gave me a weak smile. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Well…I’m physically as fine as possible considering the broken back.”
Lamont arrived with her scanner. “What hurts?”
“My ego. Apparently, I don’t look well.”
She paused. “That’s putting it mildly.”
“Nothing a good meal and ten hours of sleep won’t cure, Kiana,” he said.
I winced at the use of her first name. It had been so long since I heard it. To me, that name equaled pain. They pretended not to notice.
“Are you here for a checkup then?” she asked.
“No. I need to talk to Trella. Do you have a few minutes?”
I glanced at Lamont. She nodded and returned to work, giving us some privacy.
“Here?” I asked.
“If you’d be so kind as to wheel me over to the dining room, we can talk there.”
Interesting how no one wanted to talk in the infirmary. I wondered if someone had planted a microphone here. Perhaps it was due to the patients. Lying around with nothing to do, they would enjoy eavesdropping on our conversation.
Domotor remained quiet as I pushed him to Quad G3, helped him fill his tray and found an empty table far away from those who eyed us with curiosity. Blake wiped off tables, ignoring us, but I had the strange feeling he’d been keeping track of the people who shared my table. I wondered if Riley had asked his brother to keep an eye on me. I hadn’t seen Riley since our conversation in Logan’s room.
While I pushed my food around my plate, Domotor attacked his food as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks.
“If you need a break from Committee business, I know a little place in Quad C1 where no one would bother you,” I said. “You’d probably eat more often, too.”
He laughed. “Tempting, except for the black dust and roar of the power plant.”
Domotor finished his meal. He wiped his mouth with a napkin, but kept the cloth clutched in his hand. A little color had returned to his face. No spark lit his blue eyes. Even during the worst moments of the rebellion, he’d never looked this bad.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Everything. But first tell me how you bypassed the tracer in your arm.”
Was he guessing? Or did he know? I kept my expression neutral. “I didn’t bypass the tracer.” The truth.
“You can tell me. I’m no longer on the Committee.”
A sinking feeling of unease stroked my stomach. “Why not?”
“There is no longer a Committee. The Controllers have taken over Inside.”
“But the computer—”
“They have the network and all system controls. Except the Transmission’s.”
“All systems?” Fear swirled and I fought to keep from grabbing the chair’s arms in panic.
“Yes. If they decide to cut off our air, we’re dead.”
“Did they release Karla and Vinco?” Funny how I was more terrified of those two than the threat of suffocation.
“No.”
Surprised, I asked, “Why not?”
“The Controllers are not the Travas.”
“Not all of them,” I said. “Jacy’s in charge, but he’s working with them.”
Domotor laughed. “Jacy? Where did you hear that?”
“I have my sources.”
“Well your sources are wrong.”
“Really? Then who are the Controllers?”
“Outsiders.”
Chapter 14
“Outsiders.” I repeated the strange word. “You think the Controllers are Outsiders? How… Why…” The concept was so outrageous, I couldn’t say more.
“Logan isn’t the only one who is good with the computer, Trella,” Domotor said. “I’ve been trying to find a way around the Controllers since they showed up. I managed to isolate a small part of the network, and I traced where the link is coming from. It’s not from anywhere in Inside.”
“Are you sure? Jacy—”
“He could be helping them. It wouldn’t surprise me. That boy’s an opportunist.”
“Do you know what the…Outsiders want?” I asked.
“To come in.”
I felt as if I had drifted into Outer Space—unable to breathe as ice stabbed deep into my bones. “Can they?” My voice squeaked.
“Yes, they can and will.”
No wonder he looked so haggard. “Maybe it would be a good thing. They could be in trouble or need our help.”
“Then why didn’t they ask? They infiltrated our network, they ordered us to lock down our people and they told us they’re boarding. Not the actions of a friendly group.”
“Can we stop them?” I asked.
“I’ve been trying, but since this last explosion they’ve shut down all access. I can’t get into my isolated system.”
My head spun. “Why are you telling me all this?”
“You need to give this…” He handed me a small round disk. “To Logan.” Domotor studied my face. “He needs this disk to get to the isolated system. I know you’ve been visiting him so don’t lie to me and say you can’t. This is vital to our world.”
“What can Logan do that you can’t?”
“Work his magic, get control back and stop the Outsiders from coming in.”
“What if he can’t?”
“Then we’re all at the mercy of the Outsiders.”
Logan didn’t mince words. “Holy crap, Trella, this is bad.” He had inserted Domotor’s disk into his computer and had been typing away.
“How bad?”
“We’re screwed.” He tapped the screen with a fingernail. “No wonder we couldn’t locate the link. I never considered an Outside source.”
His fingers flew over the keys as he murmured and cursed under his breath.
“But now that you know what’s going on, you can stop them. Right?” I prodded.
“No can do.”
My knees refused to hold my weight. I sank into a nearby chair.
He pushed back from the computer. “We’re blocked out of everything. Domotor isolated an area, but I would need an untainted computer to access it.”
“Untainted?”
“One that hasn’t been hooked into the network.”
“What about the computers in the Trava Sector?” I asked. “Anne-Jade said they were cut off from the network.”
Logan fiddled with the ends of his hair. He hadn’t bothered to cut it while in protective custody. “It would depend on when those computers were unhooked. If the Outsiders had already gained access, they won’t work.”
“How do we get you there without anyone knowing?”
His face lit up. “I rigged a device that feeds off the heat from the lamp. It’ll keep the tracer at a constant temperature.”
“If we wait until right after your keepers leave, we’ll have about twenty hours before the game is up.”
I considered the steps needed to get Logan to Sector D4. After I scouted out a computer, he could travel through the air shafts with me. However, what would we do with the Travas in the room?
Time to pay Anne-Jade a visit.
“You want to borrow what?” Anne-Jade sat behind her desk and blinked at me as if she could clear me from her vision.
I had waited until the ISF office emptied of her lieutenants before dropping in on her. Keeping close to the heating vent in case one of the others returned, I repeated my request. “A stun gun, A
nne-Jade. Not a kill-zapper. I need it to help Logan.” And when she didn’t answer, I added, “Trust me.”
“Stun guns can kill if set high enough.”
“I know.” Cogon had killed a Pop Cop by accident because the Pop Cop’s gun had been set to maximum. “Can’t you lock it at a certain level?”
She crumpled. There was no other way to describe it. One second sitting straight and being stubborn, the next a defeated slouch. “You have the worst timing.” Anne-Jade spun her monitor around so I could see it. The white screen had a row of black letters that read, Collect all the weapons Inside and lock them in the safe, including your own.
“Is that—”
“Yes. Orders from the Controllers.”
“Do you know they’re not—”
“Yes. And they know exactly how many weapons we have because our inventory was in the computer.”
“But if you’re locking them—”
“The floor of the safe has a weight sensor in case anyone decides to try to steal anything.”
My mind raced. “Then add in extra weight. You can’t lock up all the weapons! That’s suicide.”
“I don’t have much time.” She pointed to the bottom of the screen. A small clock counted down. She had less than an hour. “If I don’t do as they say, they’ll gas Sector D2.”
“Sleeping gas?”
“I wish.”
I sorted through the potential problems. “If I find you the weight, will you loan me a stun gun?”
“Sure.”
Anne-Jade gave me the approximate weight of each weapon. While she called in her officers, I returned to the air shafts.
As I slid through them, memories of other panicked scrambles through the tight shafts replayed in my mind. I had hoped never to be in this situation again. In order to put a positive spin on my rushed descent to level one, I considered this trip practice. If the Outsiders did gain entry into our world, we would have one advantage of being in familiar territory.
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