Chapter 8
I closed my eyes as a hot flush of terror liquefied my muscles for an instant.
“Put your hands where I can see them. Slowly,” he ordered, but his voice squeaked a bit. Either from nerves or youth.
Perhaps I could talk my way out of this. I moved my hands to the side.
“Turn around. Slow.”
I faced him. My surprise transformed into suspicion. “Did you follow me?”
Riley lowered the stun gun. “No… I… What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing. Unless you’re Lieutenant Commander Karla’s assistant? Why didn’t you tell me you’re a Pop Cop?” My bold response seemed to have the desired effect as Riley struggled to answer questions I had no authority to ask.
“I’m not… I monitor the electrical system.” He gestured to his head set. “There was an electrical drain coming from here. I came to investigate.”
“All right then. Investigate.” I swept my hand, indicating the room. “I’m finished cleaning the ducts.” Picking up Zippy, I headed toward the open vent. The little troll was hot.
“Wait.” Riley stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. He still held the gun, but he aimed it at the floor. “You’re not cleared to be on this level.” He glanced at the open evidence closet. “Why are you here?”
I dodged the question. “How do you know I’m not cleared?”
“I checked.”
“But you don’t know my name.” And unlikely to find it.
“I pulled up the computer list. Assuming your birth week is close to mine, I only found one scrub under eighteen hundred weeks old, but I forget his name.”
“I’m on special assignment this week. The records haven’t been updated yet.” The heat from Zippy grew intolerable. I dropped him by the vent and crouched down to enter the duct.
“Stop or I’ll stun you.”
I looked over my shoulder. He pointed his gun at me. By the intensity radiating from his blue eyes, I knew he was serious. And he seemed taller than before. Why hadn’t I noticed his muscular build?
“You’re not going to tell me why you’re here, right?”
“Right,” I said.
He sidestepped to the closet, keeping his weapon trained on me. A quick glance at the shelves, then his focus returned. I met his gaze. He squinted as if his thoughts raced.
“There are weapons and devices free for the taking, but you stood here. You want a port. Except you wouldn’t be able to use it. No scrub can.”
Riley was smarter than I had thought. Too smart.
Hoping to throw him off, I said, “I was just curious, seeing what would be important enough to be locked away. I stopped in here to fix my cleaning device.” Zippy’s hum increased and small tendrils of smoke reached for the ceiling. Good boy.
“No. I’ve been learning about the lower levels. Being caught in the upper levels is bad enough, but to be found in Karla’s office…to risk your life... Wait. Something big is going on in the lower levels. Someone can’t be found.” His eyes unfocused as he followed the logic.
No time left. I spun Zippy. The metal burned my hand.
He snapped his fingers. “You want Domotor’s port!”
I switched Zippy off, and raised my arm, triggering the motion sensors.
A shrill clang pierced the air. Distracted by the noise, Riley sought the source.
Without hesitation, I shoved Zippy into the vent and followed the troll, pushing him as fast as possible through the narrow space despite the heat searing my fingertips.
“Listen!” Riley shouted after me.
An odd request. I craned my neck to look back.
His hand grabbed the vent’s cover and slammed it closed.
After a few moments, the alarm cut off in mid-clang.
Damn. I wanted the noise to mask my retreat.
As I debated how much sound I was willing to risk, the rumbled of many feet and the crash of a door reached me.
Reinforcements. Foul air.
I had managed to crawl three meters from the vent. All the Pop Cops had to do was send one of Karla’s RATSS after me and I would be caught in no time.
“What’s going on here?” Karla demanded.
Her voice stopped my heart and I wondered if she kill-zapped me, would it resume beating?
“Sensor malfunction, Lieutenant Commander,” Riley said.
“But the alarm—”
“My fault. I accidentally triggered it while repairing the device. I apologize for any inconvenience to you, sir.”
“Inconvenience! Your accident disrupted our meeting and woke every off duty officer on level four. You’ll have to be reported. Name?”
“Riley Narelle Ashon.” His voice remained calm. Impressive, considering how terrifying Karla’s scrutiny could be.
“Narelle? What are you doing monitoring security systems?”
Good question. Only the Trava family had access to the security network.
“I’m with electrical, sir. When the device malfunctioned it sent a spike through my workstation and I came to investigate. I thought I could fix the sensor, sir.”
“You thought wrong. What’s your birth week?”
“145,414, sir.”
Ha. He was only seventy-three weeks older than me.
“You’re just out of training. How did you get assigned electrical?”
“It was my choice, sir.”
“Your choice? Oh. Top of your class. Well you obviously need more training. Report to Commander Vinco Trava for extra duty.”
Extra duty meant the dreaded red cuff and hard physical labor in the lower levels. The uppers were probably assigned a boring or mindless task nobody else wanted to do.
“Yes, sir,” Riley snapped.
After a few seconds of quiet, it dawned on me. Riley hadn’t reported me. Faced with a punishment, he still kept quiet.
“You’re dismissed Mr. Ashon. Lieutenant Arno, your unit can return to their stations, but I want you to stay,” she ordered.
The shuffle of feet faded and the door clicked shut. I decided to wait. No sense alerting Karla to my presence, I wondered how long I would be stuck here.
“Where were we, Arno?” Karla asked.
“Discussing the situation below,” Arno said.
“Anything?”
“No. No one is talking. The scrubs are terrified. They’re ratting out their friends. We’ve uncovered more illegal activities this week than in the last thirty weeks. Caught a woman who was raising her own children. A whole family unit.”
“That’s new. What did Vinco do?”
“The kids were too old for the care facility. They would remember a mother. He sent them to Chomper, and the woman was assigned to the sheep breeders.”
He reported the demise of three children in a bored voice. Enraged, I wanted to strangle him.
“Harsh.” A hitch cracked her voice, but then she continued speaking without emotion. “But appropriate. You’ve increased the pressure to find Domotor and still no results?”
“Yes, sir.”
Domotor? Riley had mentioned his name, too.
“Cogon’s our best suspect, but he’s had dozens of scrubs vouch for him.” She paused.
Dozens? Wow. I knew he was well liked, but didn’t think so many would risk their lives for him.
“He knows something, I can feel it,” Karla said. “What about our informers? Have they heard any rumors?”
“No. Everyone’s keeping quiet. No speculation. No gossip. It’s as if Domotor never existed. Usually when a prophet disappears, there are rumblings of unease and talk of martyrs. This time nothing.”
Domotor must be Broken Man’s real name.
“What about the young girl…Trella?”
The air shaft seemed to tightened around me as I struggled to draw a breath.
“I had a few of my men ask about her,” Arno said. “Keeps to herself. No absences. No reprimands on her record. No friends except Cogon.”
“There’s an interesting connection. Arrest them both. Perhaps Cogon will be more informative if we threaten Trella’s life and vice versa. Put them each into an interrogation room. Inform Commander Vinco when they’re there.”
“Yes, sir.”
Polluted water. I had to warn Cog. He needed to disappear. But where could I hide the big man? With Broken Man? No. Cog had sealed his door.
Arno left the office, but Karla remained.
No more time. Risking capture, I slid through the vent, pushing Zippy ahead.
Cooler to the touch, the little troll had worked.
I wondered if Logan and Anne-Jade had invented a device to open locks.
I bit down on a laugh. I would be lucky to survive the next ten hours let alone make another attempt to steal Broken Man’s port.
I reached Riley’s storeroom. No sounds, but I paused for a few precious minutes before opening the vent’s cover. The place was empty. However, the ladder had been set up underneath the air shaft, and a wipe board rested on the couch. A note for me written on the surface.
It read: I’ve covered for you, now you can do something for me. Meet me here at hour fifty-eight.
I erased the message with a corner of my sleeve. By hour fifty-eight, I would either be in custody or on the run. It was doubtful I could meet him. A tweak of disappointment surprised me. I repeated my mantra. Never trust the uppers, the Pop Cops, and the scrubs. It all boiled down to survival.
As I climbed the ladder I wondered, was survival enough?
“Shouldn’t you be in an air shaft working?” Cog asked. He was elbow deep in a piece of machinery in the solid-waste facility. Black goo smeared his coveralls and dripped onto the floor. A fetid stench fogged the air.
“The Pop Cops are coming to arrest you and me.”
He ceased tugging. “How do you know?”
“Overheard Lieutenant Commander Karla. They’re going to threaten to recycle me if you don’t tell them about Broken Man. You need to hide. Now.”
Instead of pulling his arms out, he resumed his work.
“Cog!”
“Hush a minute. I need to think.”
“I thought it out. We both hide and then…”
“What? We live like fugitives for the rest of our days? Or do we find Gateway and leave? Do you believe in Gateway, Trella?”
“I believe something is going on in the upper levels. I believe the Pop Cops are lying to us.”
“No kidding. You need to answer my question. Do you believe in Gateway?”
“It doesn’t matter. We need to get you somewhere safe first, and then we’ll worry about the next step.”