Chapter 20
I had no recollection of leaving the Gap, or the trip back to Riley’s storeroom. I drifted as if I’d been crushed into a powder and flowed through the air vents.
Rooting under the couch, I pulled Zippy from his hiding place.
Tufts of dust clung to his brushes. I hefted the troll, cradling his weight.
The hunt for Gateway had been a whirlwind.
A thrill of risks, and I had been swept up by the excitement.
I had believed in something that didn’t exist. Gateway.
Cog. I already decided to lie and tell him we found Gateway. It would give him a moment of joy before Vinco played with him again and the Pop Cops recycled him.
I resisted the urge to hide in the pipes. Instead, I sat in the storeroom, savoring an ill humor with the hope I could build up an immunity to it and form another metal layer around my heart. The first one was ill wrought and had cracked with ease.
“What happened?” Riley stood over me.
I stared at him in confusion.
“You were supposed to report back to the infirmary hours ago and tell us the content of those files.”
The files. I almost laughed. We’d been duped. Domotor had to be a Pop Cop spy.
“Riley forget about the files. Gateway doesn’t exist. It’s all a big con. The Pop Cops planted those files and sent Broken Man here to see who they could get to fall for it. It’s just a matter of time before we are arrested.”
He rocked back on his heels as if slapped in the face. “Wait. You didn’t say you were going to Gateway.”
“Logan showed me a picture of Outside and I was…excited.” I could have substituted stupid, naive or brainless.
“Really? What did Outside look like?” Even knowing Gateway didn’t exist, Riley couldn’t contain the excitement in his voice.
“Doesn’t exist, remember? It was just a picture.”
He sat next to me on the couch. If he wondered why Zippy was in my lap, he didn’t show it. “Are you sure about Gateway? Were you at the right location?”
“I cleared at least six meters of insulation off the west Wall outside Quad G1. From the floor to the next level.”
“Those files are old. Perhaps the coordinates are wrong.”
“The age of the files is all part of the scheme.”
“What about Logan? Is he part of the ruse?”
If Domotor duped me with ease, so could the others. “I don’t know anymore. I guess those who don’t get arrested are in on it.” Karla and Pop Cops must be enjoying the show. I wondered when they would spring their trap on us.
Riley wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. I sank against him, breathing in his warm scent.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Riley said. “You’re suspicious of everyone. Domotor has to be a heck of a liar to convince you to help him.”
“Deep down I wanted to believe. I probably saw what I wanted instead of the truth.”
He rubbed my arm. “I don’t know. It’s a pretty complicated set-up. The Travas don’t have the imagination for it. Unless someone else is involved or something else is going on.”
I straightened. “The Controllers?”
He frowned. “It’s possible.”
“Do you know who they are?”
“No. When I think about them in a logical way, I believe they don’t exist. The Travas desire control of all systems, and I don’t see them obeying orders from mysterious Controllers.
I’m sure they invented them to have someone to blame when things don’t go well.
However, when I access the computer network, I get the creepy sensation that I’m being watched.
That every time I go into the system I lose a part of myself, and when I’m done I have a horrible head ache.
Sounds silly. My dad says the pain is from eye strain. ”
“It’s not silly. I wish I knew why someone went to all this trouble. Maybe Karla will grant me a last request and explain it all to me.” Doubtful, but a girl could try.
“Don’t say that.”
“Why not?”
“Because we’ll figure it out.”
I didn’t share Riley’s optimism. Instead I checked the clock. Hour ninety-four. Six hours until Cog’s final walk, until I…
No. I wouldn’t think those thoughts. At least, not yet. Riley’s arm remained around me. I turned toward him. Our lips met. A wave of heat rushed through my body as we kissed. Understanding why scrubs hooked up flashed through my mind.
He pressed me against him; his hot hands splayed on my back. Wherever our bodies met, tremors vibrated on my skin. All my problems disappeared in that moment.
Too soon, Riley pulled away. “My break’s over. I need to get back.” He stood. “Don’t do anything rash. Don’t go anywhere. You’re safe here.” He hesitated as if he wanted to say more, but instead, squeezed my arm then hurried away.
When the door clicked shut all warmth fled my body. Reality returned and time continued. My dreamy thoughts solidified and I planned my next move. I would have to find the perfect spot to approach Karla.
My head throbbed. I stared at the opposite wall, counting rivets. Twenty for each sheet of metal. No more, no less. The builders of Inside had never deviated from their plans. No creativity. No surprises.
However, the Pop Cops managed quite the surprise with a fair amount of creativity. Impressive.
Time marched like Pop Cops on patrol. I located my scrub uniform balled up in a corner of the room. The musty-smelling fabric was stiff with dried sweat and blood, but I pulled it on any way. No need to dress up for the Pop Cops.
I covered the large hole and biggest blood stain, by ripping a part of the student’s jumpsuit and tying it around my waist. My goal was to get as close to Karla and Cog before some other overenthusiastic Pop Cop arrested me.
Hour ninety-nine. Time to go. I glanced around the room, memorizing the details and decided to write Riley a quick note. The words refused to come. I scrawled an inappropriate thank you and an I’m-sorry-for-causing-so-much-trouble-for-nothing message.
Back into the airshaft, I proceeded to the lower level not caring if RATSS spotted me. I reached the bottom without encountering a single one. Figured.
As I crawled through the duct, a strange droning noise vibrated the metal. It grew louder as I drew closer to the vent. Scrubs packed the hallway below. In a few places, scrubs stood three deep on each side, leaving a narrow space.
Pop Cops tried to get them to move, but stubbornness radiated from tight jaws and hard eyes.
The hundred-hour assembly bell rang—a faint ring compared to the general murmuring.
Again, Pop Cops demanded they report to their assembly locations, screaming and harassing the scrubs to no avail.
I wondered how long it would be before they started stunning people.
They seemed reluctant to pull their weapons.
I wondered if they feared a panicked stampede if they started shooting.
I stayed in the duct until I found a location without Pop Cops.
When I dropped to the floor, the closest scrubs jerked in surprise, but soon they beamed at me.
The line of people shifted, creating an opening my size.
Sliding into the spot, I swallowed, trying to push my heart back down to its proper place, but it refused to budge, choking me.
While waiting for a sign of Cog, pressure built inside me as if I held too much water.
My nose dripped and tears blurred my vision.
I concentrated on the floor, counting the lines of rivets.
If I couldn’t see and was barefoot, I could probably navigate through the hallways of Inside by feeling the little bumps.
At least, Inside’s predictability would benefit the blind.
A sudden jolt of insight flashed, like two live wires just connected in my brain. I had the answer to question number three, Your eyes can see, but mine don’t work, yet I see what you can’t. What am I? It was the reason I couldn’t find Gateway.
The noise level rose to my left, and Cog’s head bobbed through the crowd. I gasped when he came into view. New bruises covered his swollen face, patches of blood soaked his coveralls and his hands were cuffed behind his back.
But the most astonishing aspect was his smile. He grinned at everyone.
I leaned out past the scrubs. Four Pop Cops led the way, pushing back the edges of the crowd, and four were behind him. Lieutenant Commander Karla wasn’t there. Instead, Lieutenant Arno followed the procession.
I turned to a woman on my right, and stood on my tiptoes so I could talk into her ear. “Can you take a message to Jacy for me?”
She nodded. Her face pale and serious. When I told her the message she gazed at me in frank astonishment.
“It’s very important,” I said. “Promise?”
When she promised, I stepped into the middle of the corridor. An angry frown replaced Cog’s smile as soon as he spotted me.
“I found it,” I yelled over the buzz and babble of many voices.
I knew he couldn’t stay mad. His whoop of joy rang through the hallway. Everyone stopped talking. The silence became an eerie almost living presence.
The Pop Cops in front finally noticed me. They shouted and pulled their stunners.
Maximum damage, I thought and rushed them. The element of surprise was the only reason I managed to knock one of the Pop Cops over. I yanked his gun from his hand and stunned him.
“No one recycles Cogon!” I yelled. Pleased the ad-hoc battle cry rhymed.
Then everyone moved as if my shout was a signal. Scrubs overwhelmed the rest of the Pop Cops, taking their weapons and knocking them down. A short and brutal attack. I gaped at the unexpected turn of events.
The chant rippled through the lower levels. No one recycles Cogon.
It didn’t take long for the scrubs to overpower the Pop Cops.
A few scrubs were stunned, and little blood was shed on both sides.
Cuffed with their own hand-cuffs, the Pop Cops huddled in the middle of the dining room.
All the tables had been pushed to the side and scrubs surrounded Cog, slapping him on the back.
Cog organized teams to secure entrances. Every resident of the lower two levels had come to level one for Cog.