Chapter 12 #2
Squirming into a comfortable position, I waited for Riley. I played with the sheep. Not caring I had lost it and gone soft. Not caring about Gateway. Not caring about what might happen the rest of the week. I enjoyed the moment.
“Trella.”
His voice pierced the bubble of my dream. Cold reality replaced the feelings of warmth and safety. I blinked awake. Lucky Riley hovered over me and not a Pop Cop. Falling asleep up here was deadly. I wanted to blame the couch, but knew my erratic snatches of sleep were to blame.
He straightened with a smile on his face. “Sheepy told me to let you alone, but I only have thirty minutes.”
His stuffed toys were still clutched in my hands. I sat and placed them on the cushion next to me. Riley settled on the opposite end. I smoothed my hair and wondered how long he had been here before waking me.
“I’ve been searching for a computer terminal, but every one up here is either in constant use or located in a populated area. The only option left is for you to use the terminal in my room.” He held up a hand, stopping my protests. “My father works even shifts; you can come during the next one.”
“What about the rest of your family?”
An odd half-flinch creased his face for a second. “He’s all I have, so no problem there.”
“What happens if the Controllers find out we used your computer?”
“As long as you don’t use my port, there is no way to prove I’m involved.”
“It’s still a big risk.”
“So is this.” Riley gestured to me and him.
“Good point.” I considered his offer. “Where is your suite located?”
“Sector E4.”
I waited for the number, but he stared at the wall as if making mental calculations.
“What’s your—”
“Are you going to tell me why you need access to the computer?” he asked.
“No.”
“You still don’t trust me.” He stated it as a matter-of-fact, but his arm muscles bulged as he pressed his palms into his legs.
I looked at Sheepy and his mother lying between us. The information about the uppers circled in my mind. Coddled, pampered and privileged had been the line. Yet it missed the mark with Riley. “I trust you.”
“Then why won’t you confide in me?”
“Partly for damage control and for selfish reasons.”
“We’re not accepting cryptic and vague answers right now. More detail, please.”
“We?” I asked.
He pointed to the sheep. I couldn’t help smiling.
Such a stupid little toy, yet I admitted he filled the missing gaps deep within me.
Picking up Sheepy, I held him close to my face.
He was easier to talk to than Riley. “Damage control is to minimize the number of people who could expose this whole adventure. The selfish reasons are mine. Eventually, I’ll be caught and fed to Chomper.
I’m hoping to cause a lot of trouble before then, and I hope I can convince the Pop Cops you were just a dupe.
Someone I used and who didn’t know what was going on.
I’m already responsible for sending one person to Chomper and another…
” I swallowed as a shudder of guilt and horror swept through me.
“It’s only a matter of time before he is sent.
Don’t you see, Sheepy? I don’t want anyone else to be recycled because of me. ”
Silence stretched, but I kept my gaze on the sheep, avoiding Riley’s expression. I couldn’t face his censure.
“I didn’t know you were a Trava,” Riley said.
“What?” I glanced at him. His eyebrows hovered midway between his eyes and hairline in almost thoughtful surprise.
“The Trava family decides who is fed to Chomper. I hadn’t realized you were a part of them.”
“That’s too easy. I can’t blame them. The Trava’s set the rules and carry out the punishments. My actions caused another to break the rules.”
“Oh. So you forced this person?”
“No, but—”
“But what? I’m trying to understand how you’re responsible.
Is the blame all yours? My father told me the Travas aren’t supposed to be setting the rules, but a Committee of all the families.
The rules in themselves are suspect. And there is also a thing called free will.
I had a choice back in Karla’s office. You never asked me not to tell.
I decided to help you instead. Are you responsible for my extra duty? No. I am.”
“You can twist the argument any way.”
“Exactly. You can shoulder all the blame and become a martyr. Provided anyone knows what or who you’re martyring for.
Or you can accept that some things are important enough to fight for and to realize there will be sacrifices along the way.
” He met my gaze. “I’ve assumed this is one of those important fights.
An effort to regain some of the freedoms we all lost. I’m well aware of the danger, but am still committed to helping you.
You trust me and I need to trust you. So let’s take it the next step.
Tell me why you need access to an upper computer. ”
I debated. If I told him about Gateway, he might think I was delusional. Yet he risked his life for me. “My colleague and I are hoping to find a way to circumvent the Controllers’ security in the network so we can access a few files and retrieve critical information.”
“Which information?”
“About how the various mechanical systems are set up and how to alter them without letting the Controllers know.” So I omitted a few facts. At least I wasn’t lying.
He relaxed. “See? That wasn’t so hard.” He stood and pulled a stack of clothes from underneath the couch. “I’ve borrowed a training uniform for you.” Riley gestured for me to stand and held the uniform against me. “Looks like it will fit.”
His knuckles touched my shoulders and a ripple of warmth spread through my body.
Riley continued to study me. He tossed the uniform over one arm and reached for my hair. More than a few stands had escaped my braid, and he smoothed them next to my face. “Leave your hair down. It makes you look younger.” His fingers brushed my jaw.
I suppress the sudden desire to press his hand against my cheek. “Younger?”
“You’re supposed to be a student.”
“We’ll be in your suite. Are you expecting visitors?”
“No. But there’s a chance someone might come, and I’d have a harder time explaining why two scrubs are in my room.”
“Good point.”
As he rummaged through the pile of clothes, I tugged the rest of my hair from the braid. Combing my fingers through it, I separated it into three sections.
“Don’t,” Riley said.
“Why?”
He didn’t answer. He pushed my hands away and drew my hair over my shoulders.
Stepping back, he cocked his head as if contemplating.
“You look so stern and serious with your hair tied back.” He gestured.
“That’s more like the Trella I first met.
But it’s not quite…right.” He mussed up my hair, pulling a few strands over my face. “Ah ha! Perfect!”
I shot him a withering look.
His smiled widened. “Even better. It’s like I’ve been transported back in time.”
“Ha. Ha. Funny,” I said in a flat tone. Sweeping the hair from my face, I tucked it behind my ears. “Do you have a disguise for my companion?” I asked, trying to return to the point of my visit.
“I didn’t know who you’re bringing along, so I found a basic coverall worn by the maintenance workers. It’s one-size-fits-all and we’re used to seeing the crew with rolled up sleeves and pant legs.”
He handed me the clothes. The fabric on the student’s garment had the same coarse and durable weave as the jumpsuits worn by the lower kids in the care facility.
A pained expression crossed his face. “Break’s over. I’m in three-six-ninety-five in Sector E4. Will you be able to find it?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
I calculated how much time I needed to find Logan and lead him to level four. I hoped Anne-Jade would cover my shift again. “Around hour forty-two.”
“See you then.” He slipped from the room.
I waited a moment just in case an upper saw him leaving the room and investigated.
Diving behind the couch probably wouldn’t be the best hiding place, but it was better than being caught half-way inside the air duct.
After enough time elapsed, I set the ladder under the vent.
But before I climbed, I snuggled Sheepy back in his protective spot under Mama Sheepy.
On my way to find Logan, one of Jacy’s guys bumped into me. He slipped me two listening devices without a word and ambled on his way. Laughter echoed through the hallways and people lingered in small groups, talking. The tension in the lower levels had eased.
After a few moments, I realized why. The number of Pop Cops patrolling the area had dropped to normal. As I hurried to Logan’s barrack, scrubs tried to catch my gaze. A few smiled at me with hope shining in their eyes and others cocked an eyebrow with a questioning look.
For the first time, I was the center of attention. Everyone watched me as if I was a bomb. Would I explode and cause a disaster or would I pop and cause a miracle? The pressure of their stares squeezed my chest until my lungs wheezed with the effort to draw a breath.
Pop Cop spies still worked among us. It amazed me that they hadn’t discovered my involvement.
Perhaps Karla waited for me to make a mistake.
Right now she had no evidence I was involved in Broken Man’s disappearance, but if she stalked me for a few weeks, she would eventually catch me breaking the rules.
Hard to believe, but breathing became more difficult, and I wished for simpler weeks.
My lonely life in the pipes seemed a distant and pleasant memory.
I met Logan and Anne-Jade as they entered the barrack. Odd hour shifts had finished and even would begin soon.
Logan’s light greenish-brown eyes sparkled. “Time to play?”
Anne-Jade shot him a sour look.
“Meet me in corridor A2-5 in one hour,” I told him. “Anne-Jade, can you cover my shift?”
“Sure.” She met my gaze. “Please don’t let anything happen to him.”
“I’ll try.” My mouth went dry.
“Hey,” Logan said with indigence. “I’m a grown man. I can take care of myself.”
“Are you kidding?” Anne-Jade shot back. “If it wasn’t for me, you’d be late for everything. Too busy playing with your toys.”
I left. The sounds of their mock argument followed me from the barracks. One of Jacy’s men waited in the hallway. He fell into step beside me.
“Boss wants to see you,” he said.
“When?”
“Now.”
“I can’t, my shift’s starting. Tell him I’ll stop by later.”
He wrapped his strong fingers around my right elbow. “You’ll see him now.” He pulled me along.
I squawked in protest, but he stared straight ahead. Twice my size, I knew I couldn’t pry his grip off, but I could jab him with a screwdriver. My left hand closed on the tool.
“I wouldn’t do it,” he said. “It would…annoy me.”
Interesting choice of words. I rationalized my cowardice and decided to wait. After all, there was no sense making a scene.
Jacy held court in his corner of Sector D1’s barrack. At least six unhappy expressions turned to me as my companion delivered me to his boss. My worry switched from the man clamped on my elbow to Jacy’s livid face.
“I knew it would happen eventually,” Jacy said. The muscles along his arms quivered and his eyes held a wild shine. “I just wasn’t…prepared.” He swallowed and his anger eased a bit.
“What happened?” I braced for the answer.
“I want to blame you, but I can’t.” He looked away.
My guard’s fingers dug into my skin and I yelped.
Jacy’s attention snapped back to me. This time grief lined his eyes. “Cogon’s been scheduled for execution.”