Chapter 11 #2
The bell rang for the hundred hour assembly as I climbed from the bag filter’s chamber.
Damn. No time to change the stained and sweat-soaked uniform.
I raced to my assembly station—the cafeteria—and ended up last in the short line.
Only three scrubs between me and LC Karla.
She leaned against a table, watching the check-in process. I wondered why she was here again.
My voice didn’t waver when I repeated my stats, but my heart beat a faster rhythm when Karla eyed my work suit with a contemplative purse on her lips. I tried to sidle past her.
“Running late?” she asked.
“Sorry, sir.” I stepped toward the dining room.
She blocked my way. “You weren’t scheduled to work. What have you been doing during your off time?”
Her stare could have frozen the warmest heart. I blinked. Caught by surprise, my mind blanked.
“Hey, Trella,” another scrub called. An older man with short gray hair and a stooped posture, he had gone through check-in just before me. “Thanks for helping with that clogged drain. Without your little hands, I don’t know what we would have done.”
“Any time,” I said, waving.
Karla snatched my hand and inspected my short fingernails.
“No dirt under your nails?” She waited.
“I washed my hands, sir. They were in raw sewage.”
She dropped my hand as if I was contagious and gestured for me to join the scrubs assembled in the cafeteria. I stood next to the man who had covered for me. As Karla pushed her way to the front, I leaned close and whispered my thanks.
“Any time,” he said, winking.
LC Karla climbed on a table to address the crowd.
“Citizens, welcome to the end of the week celebration. Now begins week number 147,003.” She scanned the scrubs.
“I have good news. We have caught the man responsible for my officer’s untimely recycling, and we will find Broken Man soon.
However, if you know of anyone who may have helped hide Broken Man, you are to tell me immediately.
Rewards for accurate information may result in promotion to the upper levels. ”
Absolute silence filled the room. All moisture evaporated from my mouth and gushed from my pores. I couldn’t help glancing at the man beside me. Why didn’t he raise his hand and tell the LC about lying for me? He didn’t move. No one did.
LC Karla’s body stiffened and she shook as if waves of pure anger pulsed off her. She glared at the crowd. “Fine, then you all will be interrogated. One at a time.”
She relinquished her table-top position to the ensign on duty. As he read the weekly announcements, murmurs circled the room. But the whispers held a timbre of outrage.
The man leaned over. “She’s made a mistake.” He met my gaze. “Whatever you’re up to, do it quick. I think you’ll be first on her interrogation list.”
I listened to the rest of the ensign’s message without hearing a word he said. My thoughts tumbled in circles, ending at the same point. I stifled the desire to jump on a tabletop and shout to the scrubs, “Don’t get your hopes up!”
When the assembly was over, I bolted into the kitchen. Karla stood at the exit and I didn’t want to remind her about me. If she caught me later, I could say I needed to start my cleaning shift. True to a point.
No Pop Cops had arrived yet, and the kitchen scrubs took my presence in stride, preparing food for the next meal. I could reach the air vent above the countertop, but would have difficulty getting inside. Scanning the kitchen, I searched for a stool to stand on.
A thud sounded behind me and I turned. On the counter rested a step-ladder. The type with only a few rungs and used to reach into high cabinets. Without delay, I climbed on the counter and up the ladder.
“Thanks!” I called as I pulled my body into the air shaft.
The ladder was gone by the time I closed the vent’s cover.
I traveled through the shaft to the hallway outside the care facility in Sector H2.
Once there, I glanced down. A stream of scrubs heading toward their work assignments flowed below me.
I waited a few minutes then dropped down on the stragglers.
No curses. No taunts. I could get used to it. Although if I failed to help the scrubs, the verbal abuse would resume. I laughed. If I failed, the scrubs would be the least of my worries.
Logan paced the hallway, biting a nail. I scanned the hallway to make sure no Pop Cops lingered nearby. He stopped when he saw me. I pulled his hand down.
“Try not to look so nervous,” I said. “How do you manage to work on Zippy and the other technology without giving yourself away?”
“Anne-Jade. She has nerves of glass. It has to be pretty hot for her to melt.”
“We’ll be out of sight soon.” I guided him to a small door near the care facility. Taking his decoder from my tool belt, I whispered, “Keep an eye out.” Then placed the device near the door’s lock, pressing the button.
“Anne-Jade? What are you doing here?” Logan asked.
I looked over my shoulder. Barefooted, Anne-Jade wore a skin-tight dark blue work uniform. Her thick hair had been wrestled into a single braid.
“I need Trella’s birth week and barrack number,” she said.
“Why?” Logan asked.
“Good idea,” I said, rattling off my stats. “I’m supposed to be in—”
“Shaft one eleven. Got it.” She hurried off.
I reviewed my cleaning schedule in my mind—two water pipes and a bunch of air ducts on level one. Nothing too challenging for her.
The decoder had finished. I unlocked the door and pulled Logan into a small storage room filled with stacks of linen diapers.
Closing the door, I switched on my light.
Situated under the shelves was a heating vent.
My fellow scrubs didn’t bat an eye when I wormed into the heating system, but Logan’s presence would draw unwanted attention.
I had thought ahead, remembering this closet.
However I had failed to find a solution for missing my shift, hoping we would be done in time for me to finish it. But Anne-Jade figured it out.
“Oh,” Logan said. His puzzled expression smoothed. “She’s pretending to be you so the Pop Cops won’t be suspicious. Smart!”
“So are you,” I said.
“Not that kind of smart.”
“There’s another kind?”
“Oh yeah. I know the tech stuff, but she’s the one who disguises it.
The Pop Cops walk by our stuff all the time and don’t know it’s there.
She’s the one who figures out what we can take from the recycling plant and when.
She’s the one who insisted that we didn’t tell the other Tech Nos about us so they couldn’t rat us out. ”
“That is smart,” I agreed. Pulling the vent cover down, I pointed. “Follow me, it’s not far. Close the vent when you’re through, and keep quiet. Voices carry in there.”
He nodded and then gnawed on a fingernail. I squirmed into the vent and moved ahead to give Logan room. My sore forearms protested. From all the time spent in the ducts, I would develop calluses on my elbows and wrists. How would I explain them to LC Karla?
The trip to Domotor’s room took twice as long as usual.
Logan’s slight build fit into the shaft, but his arm muscles weren’t used to pulling his weight.
When we finally entered the hideout, Domotor woke with a jerk.
He had been sleeping on the couch. He pushed into a sitting position, and studied Logan in alarm.
“I hope he is one of the ‘few things’ you needed to check on. And not a Pop Cop in disguise?” he asked me.
“Yes. Logan’s here to see if he can help with the computer system.”
“Unless he’s a technological wizard, he—”
Logan spotted the computer and wasted no time. He settled before the monitor. I helped Domotor into his chair and wheeled him closer to Logan.
The Tech No squealed in delight. His fingers flew over the keyboard. “You have a port!” He grinned.
“Yes, but you can’t—”
“I know stealth mode. I’ll be like a ghost. What are you trying to do?”
Domotor launched into technical double-talk.
Logan’s eyes lit with the challenge. The prophet nodded and made impressed noises as they worked.
I settled on the couch. My desire to interrupt to inquire about clothes for Cog’s ruse warred with my desire for sleep.
I tried to remember the last time I slept.
The effort needed to calculate proved too much for my exhausted brain, so I rested my head on the couch’s arm.
“… need an upper computer to access the data,” Logan said.
I sat up and rubbed my eyes. The vision of Logan and Domotor peering at me with twin concerned expressions failed to dissipate.
“What happened?” I asked.
“We figured out where the information is,” Domotor said.
His demeanor didn’t match his words. “But…”
“It can only be accessed from a computer on the upper levels.” He gave me a few seconds to let the news sink in. “Can you get Logan to level four?”
“Doesn’t he need a port?” I asked.
“Not anymore.” Logan smiled with smug satisfaction. “I set up my own account; all I need is a password and the right connection.”
“Why won’t it work here?”
Logan tried to describe the inhibitor function on a lower level computer. I lost him after the second word.
Domotor thankfully interrupted. “Five minutes is all he would need. Can you do it, Trell?”
Could I? Crawling through heating vents was easier than climbing to another level.
I doubted Logan had the upper arm strength needed to pull his body up the chains.
Unless we rode on top of the lift. But where would we find an unoccupied computer and if we did find one, then how long would it remain unoccupied?
“I need a few hours to think about it.”
“Perhaps Riley could help,” Domotor said. “I’m sure he would know where to find a computer.”
“I don’t think we should involve him,” I said.
“Who’s Riley?” Logan asked.
“It’s better you don’t know.” Too many knew about us already. Our chances of getting caught increased with each new person. Maximum damage, I chanted.