Chapter 17
Even though they were shaped like us—two legs, two arms, hands, torso and, I guessed, a head, I backed away from the Outsiders. Bubba Boom stopped me. “It's okay, Trella, they’re just wearing protective suits. They look just like us, and these two men are here to help us get ready for the others.”
Men? Their silver heads reflected like a mirror. Hank’s broad shape alone covered half of the one’s on the left.
“Are you out of your mind?” Hank asked Bubba Boom. “Why did you bring her here?”
“She understands. I was right about her.”
Hank snorted. “You're a fool.”
It was time for me to convince Hank. I forced my gaze away from the strange Outsiders and met his. “He isn't a fool. I'm the foolish one. I thought once we gained control of Inside, my job was done. A mistake I plan to fix. I'm here to do it right this time. To get us back on track.”
Hank stared at me as if he could read my thoughts.
I suppressed the urge to squirm under his intense scrutiny.
“Cogon told me you didn't believe in the Controllers.
And you never stopped to consider our beliefs before you carelessly announced they didn't exist.” He stepped closer to me.
“The Controllers are just system safeguards and directives from our ancestors, you and Logan said. Do you know how upsetting that was?”
He didn't wait for my reply. “Do you even understand that when you told the scrubs Outside was not the paradise they believed in for thousands of weeks, but some airless void, you destroyed their hope of ever reaching a better place?”
“I do now.”
“Too late! The damage has been done. I never gave up hope. I kept searching for them. I knew they wouldn't abandon us.” He swept his hand out. “And here they are. Just like us. On a journey through Outer Space to find a home. And now I don’t have to play nice with the Committee or you.”
I glanced at Bubba Boom. “If everyone believes the Controllers are our leaders, then why did you say you needed me?”
“Because there are many like you who don't believe. And who trust your word,” Bubba Boom said.
“But all you need to do is show them proof.” I gestured toward the Outsiders. They moved closer. Their gait awkward. And so had Karla Trava. Oh joy. Two nightmares within easy reach.
“We don't want to spark a panic. They accepted the Committee because you endorsed them, so they'll accept the Outsiders as our Controllers as well.”
Such confidence that I didn't deserve. Hank had been right about me. I hadn't considered the ramifications of my discoveries. But I did know taking out the Pop Cops had been a good thing.
“Why is Karla here?” I asked Bubba Boom.
“The Travas have been cooperating with the Controllers long before your rebellion. She helped us when they contacted us.”
“Did the Travas know they’re from Outside?” I asked.
“No,” Karla said. “We believed they were intelligent beings living inside the computer network. The reality is far more logical.”
“How did you get out of the brig?”
Bubba Boom answered. “Anne-Jade. All this time Logan’s been under our…protection not the Committee’s. We have control of the life systems as well. Anne-Jade won’t risk her brother’s life. She cares too much to refuse us.”
“I think Trella does too,” Hank said. “And I'm not convinced of her change in heart either.”
Bubba Boom pulled me close as if to protect me. “She was taken by Jacy. Sloan tried to kill her, and she understands.”
“Understands what exactly?” Hank asked.
“I understand that we need something to unite us,” I said. And this I believed one hundred percent. Except my thinking skewed to uniting us as Insiders and not as servants to the Outsiders. “And I believe the Controllers will help and not hurt us.”
Hank turned to Karla. “What do you think?”
“I think you should recycle her right away,” she said. “She will ruin all your plans. She should never be trusted.”
Bubba Boom's grip on my hand tightened. “I trust her. And Cogon loved her like a sister.”
“And look how that worked out for him,” Karla said.
Hank chewed on his lip. “I'll let the Controllers decide. Come with me.”
It was a good thing my heart had already run away, otherwise it would have exploded in my chest from the sudden surge of terror.
Bubba Boom pried my hand from his. “It'll be okay. Just tell them the truth.” He nudged me toward Hank and the Outsiders.
They waited for me to join them. I followed them into another room. When the door hissed shut, I couldn't breathe in the thin air. Gasping, I was suffocating. Panicking, I glanced around.
The room was a standard conference area with a table and chairs. But big silver tanks lined the far wall and metal boxes had been stacked in the corner. Metal plates covered the air and heating vents.
Hank gestured to a chair. Once I sat, he showed me the small tank near the chair's legs and the oxygen mask. Understanding cut through the dizziness and I covered my nose and mouth with the mask, filling my lungs with thick air.
The Outsiders fiddled with clamps around their necks. A popping noise followed a whoosh, and they removed their round silver helmets.
They did resemble us. Short brown hair, brown eyes, a nose, mouth and ears. But their skin had an unhealthy yellowish cast, almost like jaundice. And their expressions were far from friendly.
The Outsider on the right crinkled his nose as if he smelled something rotten. “This is sheep leader?” He spoke with a thick accent. He struggled to pronounce each word.
Hank pulled his mask away from his face. “Yes. This is Trella Garrard.”
“She look...”
“Insignificant,” the other Outsider said.
“She is not. She caused much trouble for our world, but her actions enabled us to contact you.”
As if I didn't feel bad enough.
Hank introduced the Outsiders. “This is Ponife.” The Outsider on the right inclined his head. “And Fosord.”
“What is problem?” Ponife asked Hank.
Hank explained in concise sentences how they needed me yet they doubted my sincerity. The two Outsiders conferred in a strange dialect. I could understand every fourth or fifth word.
Ponife stood and went to the stack of metal boxes. He removed the top one and set it on the floor, then rummaged in the second one. He returned with a thin silver loop, walking toward me.
“Stand, Trella Garrard,” he ordered.
I glanced at Hank.
“If you truly believe, you'll do as they say,” Hank said.
Escape would be difficult, considering the blocked vents, and the room full of people between me and freedom. I rose. Ponife touched a small metal X to the loop and it opened, breaking into two half circles hinged together.
He held the broken loop out and approached me, aiming for my neck. I decided I had learned more than enough and ducked. Running for the door, I hoped the element of surprise would be on my side when I raced through the new control room.
It wasn't. The door refused to slide open.
Hank tackled me to the ground. Despite my struggles, Hank kept me pinned, and Ponife snapped the loop around my neck.
It was loose at first, but the metal warmed against my skin and.
..softened before tightening. Hank released me and I dove for the oxygen mask convinced I was being choked to death.
After a few deep breaths, I realized my windpipe had not been compressed. I tried to hook a finger under the loop, but it was skin tight.
“I knew you were lying. Did Jacy send you to spy on us?” Hank asked.
“No. I panicked.” I pointed to Ponife. “He scared me.” I tugged on the loop. It didn't budge. “What is this thing?”
“A control collar,” Ponife said. “You will...listen to us.”
“But she can't be trusted,” Hank said.
“No matter. She is…attached to us. We know where she go.”
“She will listen or…” Fosord, who hadn't moved during the whole incident, motioned to his colleague.
Ponife twisted the metal X with his fingers. Sharp needles of pain stabbed into my neck and traveled down my spine. Unrelenting pulses of fire coursed through my body. I collapsed to the ground, shrieking. Vinco's knife had been a caress in comparison to this anguish.
The pain stopped as quickly as it had arrived. My relief was almost as intense as the pain. Hank pressed the mask to my mouth as I gasped. Shudders overwhelmed my muscles as sweat pooled. If I had to guess how it felt to be kill-zapped, I'd imagine that torment came pretty damn close.
Hank straightened. “Impressive. Do you have more of those control collars?”
“Yes,” Ponife said. “We find them to be…useful for…solving problems.”
“Can I?” Hank wanted to take the X.
“No. Only Controllers can…correct problems.”
“What else can it do?” he asked.
Ponife pulled on one of the ends. Numbness spread down my body, deadening all feeling below my neck. I could only move my head.
“She is…stopped,” Ponife said. He flipped it around and tugged another side.
Feeling returned with a sudden flush of heat. My body tingled like I had just been kissed by Riley. It intensified as pure pleasure raced along my skin as if invisible hands stroked my body. To me, this was more humiliating than the pain.
“She is…rewarded. That is all.” He righted the X.
The tingling stopped, and I had control of my body. For now.
“Plus, you know where she is, right? It works like a tracer?” Hank asked.
Ponife dug into the pocket of his suit. The white material creased like fabric but crinkled like very thin metal.
He pulled out a small box that resembled a hand sized computer the Pop Cops had used.
He opened it, displaying a miniature screen.
Inserting the X into the opposite side, he pushed a few buttons. Then he showed Hank the screen.
“That's a map of level five,” he said. “What are those numbers on the side?”
“Her vitals. To know if she tells untruths,” Ponife said.
Just when I thought my situation couldn't get any worse, he proved me wrong.
“Can we interrogate her now?” Hank asked.
“No. She is…terrorized. You must wait until her vitals return to normal.”
“How long?”
“Depends on her.”