Chapter 3
I had mere seconds to rescue Broken Man.
Good thing level one’s near-invisible hatch was next to the lift.
I scrambled out of the air pipe, and hunched my way over to the shaft.
The elevator’s shaft was solid except for half meter openings in each level’s Gap.
If the lift passed level one, I would be too late.
Reaching the opening, I glanced inside. The lift remained on level one, but the doors hissed closed. I squeezed through and landed on the lift’s roof. I held still, listening as something scraped against the doors before they shut.
“Stop,” a voice ordered.
The lift ascended. I clutched a cable to keep from falling. Huddled on top, I regained my balance. Risking notice, I pried up the roof hatch just enough to see inside.
A meter below me, Broken Man slumped in his wheelchair, while a Pop Cop stood with his stunner pointed at Cog. The big oaf must have squeezed into the elevator to rescue his prophet, and now he was caught.
I altered my plan. Tracing wires, I found the electric feed into the elevator and fitted the white electrical wire between my rubber-handled pliers. I opened the emergency control panel on the roof, yelled, “Fire drill,” and punched the stop button while cutting the wire. The lift jerked to a halt.
The occupants of the elevator were now in total darkness. I hoped Cog knew what to do. My call had warned him. As I lifted the hatch, a soft thud, a loud grunt, and the unmistakable sizzle slap of the stun gun reached me.
“What’s going on?” Broken Man asked with a nervous tremor in his voice.
I sucked in my breath, biting my lip.
“We need to get out of here,” Cog replied.
Relief washed over me as my clenched muscles relaxed. I pulled the hatch wide open. It squeaked.
“Trella?” Cog asked.
“Hold on. I’ll get a light.” I fumbled for the flashlight on my belt as Broken Man repeated my name in shock.
I leaned through the open hatch, dangling upside down from my waist and held out my light. The Pop Cop lay on his side. His wide-eyed, lifeless gaze stared at nothing.
Cogon gaped at the Pop Cop’s weapon in his own hand in horror. “This is a stun gun,” he cried. “Why would it kill him?”
“What’s the setting?” I asked.
Cog just looked at me. His eyebrows pinched together, and confusion shone in his eyes.
“The intensity.” I tried again. “It’s on the side.”
Cog turned the weapon over. “Ten.”
“That’s why. It’s on the maximum setting.
A ten blast could easily kill an average sized man.
” I still didn’t see understanding in Cog’s creased face.
“You’re twice the Pop Cop’s size. I would have set the damn thing to ten, too, if I had to incapacitate you.
Look, we don’t have time for this. We need to get Broken Man to a hiding place. ”
“Impossible,” Broken Man said. “Inside has no hiding place.” His face was pale.
I smiled at Broken Man’s regurgitation of Pop Cop propaganda, then returned to the roof. Using my rubber-handled pliers again, I fixed the broken wire, restored the lights, and accessed the lift’s controls.
“Push the button for level two,” I called.
When we reached level two, I opened the back doors. A maintenance room was located adjacent to the elevator shaft.
“Cog, wheel him out and take the Pop Cop, too.”
Cogon finally realized how dangerous it was to delay. Galvanized into action, he cleared everyone from the elevator.
“Leave them here, and get back on the lift,” I said through the roof’s hatch.
“He can’t stay here. It’ll be the first place they’ll look,” Cog said.
“I know, but he can’t travel through the corridors. We’ll have to camouflage him.”
“How?”
“Laundry bin.”
Understanding smoothed Cog’s face. He delivered the laundry to the upper levels, so it wouldn’t look out of place if he was seen pushing a bin.
With Cog as the sole occupant, I sent the lift back to level one, and again opened the back doors.
This time the doors led to the laundry. Bins full of clean laundry filled the area by the lift.
Cog grabbed one, waved to the working scrubs and pushed it into the elevator. I brought him back to level two.
“Stand in the doorway,” I said. Returning the controls to the panel inside the lift, I swung down. “Help me put the hatch back on.” I sat on Cog’s broad shoulders and replaced the cover.
We joined Broken Man in the maintenance room as the lift resumed its regular service. The bin was full of towels. We removed them and Cog lifted Broken Man into the bin.
Before we covered him, he asked, “My wheelchair?”
“It’s too big. We’ll have to leave it behind,” I said.
“Now what?” Cog asked as he finished arranging the towels.
“Take him down to Quad C1, but don’t use this lift.”
“To the power plant?” Cog asked.
“Yes. I’ll meet you there.”
“What about the Pop Cop?”
“Leave him. Someone will find him.”
“And the stun gun?” he asked.
“Put it back in his belt. It’s too dangerous to keep.” The Pop Cops would be mad enough once they discover a fallen colleague, but it would be worse if they believe one of the scrubs was armed.
Kneeling besides the prone form, Cog shoved the weapon into the Pop Cop’s holder, but he paused.
He closed the man’s eyes and smoothed his limbs to a more comfortable position—not that the Pop Cop would care.
Cog rested a large hand on the man’s shoulder, bowed his head and whispered.
Only the words, sorry and journey were audible to me.
I suppressed the urge to hurry him, knowing Cog needed this time. When he finished, he stood and wheeled the bin from the room. I waited for a few minutes before climbing into the air shaft. I traveled to level one to assess the situation, exiting the shaft to join the other scrubs.
Walking through the corridors, I scanned faces. Level one appeared normal. So far, the Pop Cops hadn’t raised an alarm. I headed to Quad C1.
I pressed past some scrubs until I found a heating vent near the floor.
After sliding inside, I replaced the vent cover and rested in the warm metal tube, catching my breath.
The enormity of what I had just done slammed into me.
My body shook as doubt and fear fought for control.
With effort, I pushed the ugly thoughts away; I had no time for recriminations.
Right now I was navigating by instinct alone.
Propelled by the need to keep moving, I followed the heated air to its source.
The power plant in Quad C1 was Inside’s beating heart.
It pumped out electricity and heat to keep us all alive.
Encompassing all of Quadrant C on the first, second, third and fourth levels, the plant’s main controls were located on level four.
Noise, excessive heat, dirt, and fuel tanks filled level one, and hardly anyone worked in this area.
The air burned my lungs as I drew closer to the plant, forcing me to leave the vent. Sweat soaked my uniform, but a sudden chill gripped my spine when I couldn’t find Cogon and Broken Man anywhere near the plant.
My name sounded in the thick air and I spun in time to see Cogon waving me over. He had hidden behind one of the fuel tanks. Broken Man was propped up in the laundry bin.
“Now what?” Cog shouted over the chugging engines.
“There’s an abandoned controller’s room by the fuel intake valve.” I pointed. “The door’s locked, but I can open it from the inside.”
Finding the air return duct crossing over the controller’s quarters, I asked Cogon to lift me up.
I crawled through the duct until I found a vent into the controller’s room.
I had discovered this small living space on one of my excursions.
Thinking it was a perfect hideaway, I had proceeded to make it my own.
It hadn’t taken me long to figure out why it had been empty.
The noise from the plant was intolerable, the heat oppressive, and a fine coating of black grit covered everything, and eventually drove me away despite the rarity of such a space.
As Cog wheeled Broken Man in, I cleaned the room as best as I could with the towels. Cog lifted the prophet into a chair. Dust puffed out from the cushions.
We stared at each other for a moment as the engines roared.
“We’re in trouble,” Cog yelled. “This isn’t going to work. They’ll find us.”
“They’ll think I killed the Pop Cop. I’ll be recycled,” Broken Man said.
“You were going to be recycled anyway,” I said.
Broken Man jerked his head in shock.
“What did you think they would do after they interrogated you?” I asked.
“But what happened to you?” the prophet asked.
“Yeah, why are you here, Trell?”
Broken Man’s nose crinkled in confusion.
He was either a good actor or genuinely flustered.
Drowning in trouble and still unable to trust the blond-haired man, I hesitated.
Cogon stepped toward me, a mixture of fear and anger twisting his face.
An expression I had never seen on Cog. There was only one scrub I cared for in this whole metal world, and he wallowed in this predicament with me.
Polluted water! I pulled out the disks, spreading them in my hands like a fan. Cog’s mouth dropped open as though someone had slapped him.
Broken Man raked his fingers through his hair as understanding dawned. “But the Pop Cops didn’t know about the disks,” he said.
“Why not?” I asked.
“I used an untraceable port and covered my tracks for the file transfer. However, I wasn’t as clever with my other forays into the computer system and was caught. When they questioned me before my accident and exile, they hadn’t a clue about the hidden files.”
He glanced around the room. “Unless they suspected.”
“So the Pop Cops rigged your former quarters just in case,” I said.
“Why not just pick me up and ask?” Broken Man shuddered. The Pop Cops had a gruesome reputation.
“They knew where to find you. They knew you didn’t have the disks on you. Plus if they waited, they could see who you recruited to break the rules in order to help you.”