Chapter 17 #2
Hank yanked me off the floor and hustled me from the conference room. He pushed me toward Bubba Boom. I fell into his arms.
“What happened?” Bubba Boom asked, supporting me.
“She tricked you boy. She's spying for Jacy,” Hank said. He tossed a long thin box at Bubba Boom who caught it in midair. “Take her to the lock up. When she settles down, we're going to have a nice long chat.” He returned to his post.
Bubba Boom looked at me with a pained expression, but he followed orders, half carrying me from the control room. Right before the doors closed, I spotted Karla Trava watching me with a smug smile.
I tried to explain to Bubba Boom. “It's a misunderstanding. I got scared and—”
“Hank said you're spying for Jacy.”
“You believe Hank over me?” I asked.
“Yes.” Then he didn't say another word.
He kept a bruising grip on my upper arm.
I was really sick of being manhandled all the time.
We arrived in what would be Sector D5, which should contain apartments.
Except the normally open hallways, had barred double doors.
Bubba Boom aimed that long box at the first set. He pushed a button and a click rang.
“What's this place?” I asked as he opened the gate.
“Anne-Jade had wanted more cells because of all the Travas. The Committee agreed to convert this Sector into a brig.” Bubba Boom pointed his box to the first door on the right. It clicked open. This door was solid except for a panel about eye-level. “You're our first guest.” He shoved me inside.
Daylights switched on as the door banged.
I shot to my feet, but it was too late. There were no handles or anything on my side of the locked door.
The cell was two meters wide by three meters long.
A mat covered the floor near the back wall.
Solid bars covered the vents. Nothing else here but a toilet.
Trapped, I experienced a sudden premonition that being kill-zapped and fed to Chomper would be a kindness in comparison to my future.
As I lay on the mat in my cell, I tugged and pulled at the loop around my neck, but it refused to budge. I doubted even Logan could remove it. Not that I could go anywhere.
There was only one thing I could do. I slid my hand into my pocket and removed Riley's sheep pendant. Dangling it over my face, I considered my next move. Should I trigger the beacon? It would probably alert Hank. And without working computers, would Riley even know I had signaled for his help?
What if he tried to rescue me and was caught?
I couldn't risk him. Jacy needed him. But did they know Hank had been using level five as his own personal headquarters?
Did they know two Outsiders had come in?
Too many questions and no answers. My emotions flipped from terrified to worried and back again.
One thing I did know. I trusted Riley. He was smart and wouldn't be as easy to catch as I had been. At least that was the reason I clung to in desperation as I pressed the sheep, sending the signal.
I waited for Hank to arrive and confiscate my pendant, but as the hours passed, I slowly relaxed.
Eventually, I lost track of the time. It seemed so long ago when Bubba Boom had arrived in the infirmary around hour eight of week number 147,026.
Would the Outsiders repair the Transmission and resume our journey?
The click of the lock startled me from my musings. I shoved my pendant back into my pocket as Hank and one of the Outsiders—I couldn't tell with his helmet on—entered my tiny cell. I noted Bubba Boom's absence. The door closed behind them. Ice cold fear spread inside me. This would be painful.
Hank questioned me and Ponife played with the metal X. The interrogation went something like this:
Hank: “What is Jacy up to?”
Me: “I don't know.”
Ponife (with a mechanical sounding voice): “An untruth.” He twisted the X.
I screamed in pain.
Hank: “What is Jacy up to?”
Me: “I don't know.”
Ponife twisted the X.
I screamed.
And so on until I lost count. Eventually, I broke and confirmed I had been spying for Jacy, and he had been attempting to bypass the Outsiders' hold on our network.
At least I retained some dignity and hadn't said how they planned to circumvent the controls to all our life systems. Although right now I wished he hadn't shared that with me.
Not when my muscles vibrated from the repeated bouts of agony and my clothes reeked of fear.
Not when I lay curled tight in a ball, wishing for a quick trip to Chomper.
Hank seemed happy with my confession and left, but Ponife remained. My terror doubled. He popped his helmet off. Terror tripled. Ponife knelt next to me. Terror headed off the scale.
“Do not…fear,” he said, panting with the effort. “Your air is…thick. We will not harm…world. We desire…to reclaim what is ours.”
“What is yours?” I asked.
“This ship.”
That was the last thing I expected. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Your…ancestors stole it. Exiled us.”
I noted his use of the word exile. Of course, it could have a wide range or meanings. “How do you know? As you said, our air is thicker than yours.”
“We have…records. We had to…ration air so long…we are used to it. The air mixture is easy to alter. We’ll find a…common setting. Good for all.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“You are leader,” Ponife said.
I touched the collar. “Not a good one.”
“Work with us. You will have…chance to repair damage.”
I doubted it would be that easy. “Why did they exile you?”
His demeanor changed in an instant. Wrong question.
“Impertinent child.” Ponife twisted the X.
When I came to my senses, Ponife was gone.
In his place was a tray of food and a glass of water.
My throat burned so I gulped down the water.
Then I attacked the food. Only after I had consumed most of it, did I consider the danger.
I shrugged. They didn't need poison or drugs.
A couple more sessions with the collar and I would do anything for them.
I considered Ponife's comments, trying to list reasons for banishing a person.
It would also depend on if the Insiders at the time knew about the extra space or not.
The Committee hadn't recycled the Travas, but if they hadn't known about the Expanse I was sure the Travas would have been recycled to in order to make room for our growing population.
Maybe instead of recycling the trouble makers, our ancestors put them into a bubble monster and sent them on their way. Was that better or worse than being recycled? Given the choice, I would rather take my chances in Outer Space in a bubble than be Chomper's dinner.
Eventually, I fell into an exhausted sleep.
A rasping sound woke me. Disorientated, I blinked in the daylights as the shushing grew louder. Deep down, I recognized the noise, but my brain hadn't quite connected it.
After a few more seconds, I jumped to my feet. Climbing up to the air vent, I peered inside. Zippy had come!
I rattled the bars over the vent, but they wouldn't budge. Riley would guess I was stuck. Otherwise, I would have escaped by now. I searched with my fingers and found a cloth bag tied to Zippy. Good boy.
Pulling the bag through the bars, I carried my treasure back to the mat. Funny how the smallest things became so important when you'd been reduced to utter helplessness.
I upended the bag. A listening device and a receiver tumbled out along with a diamond wire. Inserting the receiver in my earlobe, I turned on the device.
“Anyone listening?” I asked, trying not to sound pathetic, but strain shook my words, giving me away.
“Trella!” Riley's relieved voice reached me.
I collapsed back onto the mat. This was the first thing to go my way in a long time.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Worried about Hank detecting the transmission, I explained about the new control room and the Outsiders as fast as I could.
After I finished, Riley asked me a few questions. Then he said, “Get out of there, and meet me at—”
“I can’t. They have a…tracer on me.”
“Can you cut it out? I could send a scalpel.”
“No. It’s around my neck.” I gave him a basic run down on all the wonders of the command collar.
He responded with an extended period of silence.
Unable to endure another minute, I said, “Don’t be upset. I tried to run away, but Hank—”
“Trell, I’m not mad—well, not at you. I’m going to throttle both Hank and Bubba Boom and feed them to Chomper myself.” He paused. “I’m thinking of a way for you to escape. You could use Zippy’s short range EMP to disable it.”
“I thought that only worked on weapons.”
“Logan had to limit what the pulse could affect because of all the sensitive equipment and computers back when you ambushed the main control room. But you’re far away from anything vital right now.
Actually, if Zippy was stronger and if we had our network in place, he could have taken out Hank’s new control room. ”
“How do I switch him over?” I asked.
Riley told me how to remove the safety filter.
“How can I tell if it works on the collar?”
“You escape, hide, and wait. If it’s operating, they’ll find you pretty quick. But the pulse will ruin your listening device and receiver. If they don’t come after you, meet me in our storeroom.”
“Sounds like a plan. Thanks for the help.” Before Riley could switch off, I said, “If this doesn’t work, I just want to tell you that…” I closed my eyes. Why was this so hard? “That…I was an idiot to keep my distance from you. That I didn’t realize how much I love you until I lost you.”
“You’ll get free, Trella.” Riley’s voice sounded tight. “You’ve survived worse than this. And this time you have more motivation.”
“More motivation?”
“Yes. I’m not going to respond to your comment through a listening device. You’ll have to hear it from me in person.”
After Riley clicked off, I used the diamond wire to saw through the bars over the air vent. I hoped Ponife didn’t check my vitals because my accelerated heart rate would alert him. Once I had enough space to wiggle through, I pulled Zippy from the shaft and removed the safety filter.
With nothing else to lose, I flipped the switch on Zippy.
My receiver whined and popped, but the little cleaning troll remained silent.
Logan had given Zippy a special protective coat so his inner electronics weren’t zapped as well.
I shoved the cleaning troll back into the duct and climbed in after him.
In case Zippy’s pulse hadn’t disabled my collar, I didn’t want to hide in any of my favorite spots. Instead, I worked my way up to the top of level ten, which was the bottom of the Expanse. Finding a space between two storage containers, I settled in to wait.
At first, every single noise jolted me. Eventually, I grew used to the sounds of the Expanse looming over me. After enough time had passed—if my collar worked, they would have found me by now—I descended to level four and headed toward our storeroom.
The glow of bluelights shone through the vent, indicating no one was in the room. Disappointed, I aimed my feet at the ladder and climbed down. The clock on the wall read hour forty-seven. I sank onto the couch. Thirty-nine hours had passed since I left the infirmary with Bubba Boom.
The horror, pain, and fear had taken a toll on me. My head throbbed from the thin air. Exhausted, I curled up on the couch with Zippy, but I wished for Riley and Sheepy.
Chaotic dreams swirled. Outsiders chased me.
Daylight reflected off their silver helmets, blinding me.
Then a wall of people blocked my escape route.
Jacy led the group, and I ran to him. Instead of protecting me, he grabbed my arm and dragged me back toward the Outsiders.
He handed me over to Ponife in exchange for the metal X.
As Jacy laughed and turned away, Ponife’s white gloves stroked my skin.
I woke with a cry and with cold hands on my shoulders. My nightmare had turned into reality. I was caught.