Chapter 13 #2
I relaxed when it became obvious that most of the injuries were minor. Cuts, bruises, a few broken arms and legs, a couple concussions, and a number of sprained ankles and wrists. Nothing like the overwhelming deluge after the Big Shake. And no burns.
Sometime during the next ten hours, Bubba Boom stopped by. He had a small cut on his arm, but wouldn't let me clean and bandage it.
He waved away my efforts. “It's fine. Save the supplies for those who need it.”
When I asked about the others, he said, “I haven't heard of any fatalities.” He pulled me outside and a few meters away from the infirmary. He lowered his voice. “The Transmission blew again. Jacy's Travas either overloaded it by mistake or incompetence. Or they did it on purpose.”
“I heard them say fix.”
“Maybe that meant fix it so it won't run again.”
“That bad?”
“It's a mangled mess. We won't know for a week or more.”
I wondered if Logan had watched the Travas with his video camera. Hank and Bubba Boom still thought he was in protective custody. They hadn't asked how I would bypass Jacy’s Controllers, but at least they hunted for the active link.
“Any news about the link?” I asked.
“Nothing. And we'll have to postpone the search until we can figure out what to do about the Transmission.”
Just what we needed—more delays. Jacy was bound to clamp down on our freedoms soon and release all the Travas. It still puzzled me why he hadn't by now.
After the last of the injured had been seen and I slept for over eight hours, I climbed into the ducts and visited Logan.
He pounced on me as soon as I dropped down into his room.
“I've been calling you for hours,” he said.
“I turned my receiver off so I could sleep. Sorry. Are you hurt?”
“No.” He twisted the bottom of his shirt, coiling it tight.
“What's wrong? Did you see what happened—”
“Of course! I saw it all and I've been dying to talk to someone about it.” He paced and twisted. “I'm bored.”
I glanced at all his half-completed devices. “No. You're lonely. I should stop by more often.”
He waved my comment away. “I'm sure you were busy.” He sprinted to the computer and tapped a few keys. “Come see what happened before the video camera died.”
The screen showed the long cylinder and control panel for the Transmission.
Bluelights glowed in the empty room. Then the daylights flooded as three men dressed in maintenance coveralls approached the control panel.
Logan pressed a key and the men moved super fast as they went back and forth from the panel to the machine.
“They worked on the Transmission for about an hour,” Logan said. “Here's where it gets interesting.”
Their actions didn't make sense to me, but there was no missing the bright flash just before the panel exploded. The men flew back and the screen turned dark.
“The energy pulse blew the video camera.” Logan swiveled around to me.
“Did they cause the explosion?”
“No. I studied that whole hour and it appeared to me they were repairing the damage from before.”
“What happened then?”
“The panel must have been rigged to blow when they reached a certain point.”
“Rigged by who? Did you see anyone else work on the machine?”
“No. The booby trap was in place before you installed the video camera.”
Booby trapped prior to the explosion? It didn’t make any sense. Everyone wanted the Transmission fixed. I pointed at Logan’s screen. “That first explosion set off a bunch of others.”
“Overkill for sure. One was enough to obliterate the controls. Can you place another video camera in there for me. I'd like to see the extent of the damage.”
“A mangled mess, according to Bubba Boom.”
Logan sniffed. “I'd still like to see it for myself.”
“Okay.”
He gave me another video camera and a list of supplies. I climbed into the air shafts and crossed to the power plant. The Transmission was located in the southeast corner and the damage to the floor and walls from the first explosion hadn’t been repaired yet.
Finding an intact shaft was difficult, but I switched to the heating ducts, and managed to circumvent the open areas. As I drew closer, the sound of an argument reached me. Strained, worried, and upset voices shouted at each other. I doubted anyone listened to the replies if there were any.
I peeked through the vent. Most of the Committee members gathered around a hole in the middle of a control panel.
The metal had been peeled back as if a giant fist had punched through the panel.
Black scorch marks streaked along the sides and water dripped from everything.
At least the sprinkler system had doused the fire.
Unlike the fabric in the air filters, there wasn’t much here to burn.
It looked bad, but not quite the mangled mess of Bubba Boom’s description.
Hank and a few of his crew stood together, enduring the ire of the Committee members. I waited until they left and placed the video camera just below the vent.
I returned to the infirmary and helped Lamont change bandages and feed patients.
The follow up care wasn’t as interesting to me as the initial treatment.
Surgery fascinated me, but I’d be happy to let someone else take charge of a patient’s recovery.
All part of my impatience. Another aspect of my personality that led me into trouble.
A few hours into my shift, Domotor wheeled into the infirmary. Three shades past pale, his haggard expression regarded me with desperation. I yelled for Lamont and ran to him, asking him to list his symptoms, checking his pulse.
He gave me a weak smile. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Well…I’m physically as fine as possible considering the broken back.”
Lamont arrived with her scanner. “What hurts?”
“My ego. Apparently, I don’t look well.”
She paused. “That’s putting it mildly.”
“Nothing a good meal and ten hours of sleep won’t cure, Kiana,” he said.
I winced at the use of her first name. It had been so long since I heard it. To me, that name equaled pain. They pretended not to notice.
“Are you here for a checkup then?” she asked.
“No. I need to talk to Trella. Do you have a few minutes?”
I glanced at Lamont. She nodded and returned to work.
“Here?” I asked.
“If you’d be so kind as to wheel me over to the dining room, we can talk there.”
Interesting how no one wanted to talk in the infirmary. I wondered if someone had planted a listening device here. Perhaps it was due to the patients. Lying around with nothing to do, they would enjoy eavesdropping on our conversation.
Domotor remained quiet as I pushed him to Quad G3, helped him fill his tray, and found an empty table far away from those who eyed us with curiosity. He attacked his food as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks.
“If you need a break from Committee business, I know a little place in Quad C1 where no one would bother you,” I said. “You’d probably eat more often, too.”
He laughed. “Tempting except for the black dust and roar of the power plant.”
Domotor finished his meal. He wiped his mouth with a napkin, but kept the cloth clutched in his hand. A little color had returned to his face. No spark lit his blue eyes. Even during the worst moments of the rebellion, he’d never looked this bad.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Everything. But first tell me how you bypassed the tracer in your arm.”
Was he guessing? Or did he know? I kept my expression neutral. “I didn’t bypass the tracer.” The truth.
“You can tell me. I’m no longer on the Committee.”
A sinking feeling of unease stroked my stomach. “Why not?”
“There is no longer a Committee. The Controllers have taken over Inside.”
“But the computer—”
“They have the network and all system controls. Except the Transmission’s.”
“All systems?” Fear swirled and I fought to keep from grabbing the chair’s arms in panic.
“Yes. If they decide to cut off our air, we’re dead.”
“Did they release Karla and Vinco?” Funny how I was more terrified of those two than the threat of suffocation.
“No.”
Surprised, I asked, “Why not?”
“The Controllers are not the Travas.”
“Not all of them,” I said. “Jacy’s in charge, but he’s working with them.”
Domotor laughed. “Jacy? Where did you hear that?”
“I have my sources.”
“Well your sources are wrong.”
“Really? Then who are the Controllers?”
“Outsiders.”