Outside In

I turned and met Lamont’s measuring gaze. She had watched me, but instead of commenting on my nurturing instincts, she checked Emek, nodded and returned to the operating room to clean up. Knowing the importance of a sterile area, I helped. We worked in silence, but the tension between us wasn’t quite as thick. When the surfaces gleamed and the place smelled of antiseptic, I tossed the dirty rags into a special medical bag and sent it down the laundry chute.

“You did well,” she said. “Thank you.”

I grunted a reply, heading to my room. The rush from the emergency surgery fizzled and exhaustion soaked into my bones.

“There’s a package on your bed from Logan,” Lamont said as I pushed open the door.

Good thing she had mentioned Logan’s name. Because if I hadn’t known he brought it here, I would have assumed it was from Lamont. Then I would have carried it to Lamont’s office and smashed the thing to little pieces. Instead, I set the vampire box on the table. The device had been used by the Pop Cops to test the scrubs for illegal drugs and pregnancy by taking blood samples. It could also settle the issue of my birth mother, determining if Lamont was indeed my parent. It had been Logan’s idea to use the box.

I stretched out on the bed. Staring at the ceiling, I wondered why Logan sent it now. He knew I had no desire to prove the relationship. Lamont hadn’t acknowledged me—that was proof enough. Guess I would need to visit Logan and ask him.

Eventually I drifted to sleep. Floating in a sea of blackness and surrounded by nothing, I strained to reach solid ground. But my body thinned. My arms turned translucent. My legs disappeared. I dissolved into a void.

Sound and touch returned with a vengeance. A roar woke me. The noise rattled the floor and my bed lurched so hard it tossed me across the narrow room. I slammed into the wall along with the table. The vampire box clipped my forehead as it shattered against the sheet metal.

Loose items spun around and knocked into me as if the contents of my room had been stuffed into one of the huge laundry dryers and turned on.

The bluelight died, plunging me into darkness. Then it all stopped. I ended up sprawled in a heap on the floor amid a pile of debris. Dazed and confused, I stayed still, trying to clear my head.

Then the silence hit me. As familiar as the beat of my own heart, the Hum had always rumbled throughout Inside. A comforting constant noise noticed more on a subconscious level than noted on a conscious level.

The Hum meant the power plant was doing its job, producing electricity and heat, keeping us alive.

Silence meant the opposite. Until that moment, I hadn’t known true terror.

2

IN THE BLACKNESS OF MY ROOM, I UNTANGLED FROM the heap and stood. A wave of dizziness hit, spinning me back onto the ground. Pressing my fingers to my temple, I touched a tender spot covered with a sticky wetness—blood. I probably had a concussion.

Unable to trust my legs, I crawled, shoving aside debris as I moved toward the door. Or so I hoped. In the darkness, direction was hard to determine.

My hand touched a round dome, and I picked up my exploring helmet with a cry of triumph. Funny how the small things become important in an emergency. I donned the helmet, toggling on the light.

I faced the wrong way and the room was a mess—no surprise. A thick glass splinter jutted from my right forearm—a surprise since it didn’t hurt. Of course once I stared at the blood welling from the wound, pain shot up my arm. Basic first aid instructions that I’d learned when I lived in the care facility replayed in my mind. I left the glass in place.

The crushed innards of the vampire box crunched beneath me as I reached the door. Despite my refusal to use the box, the damn thing had still gotten my blood via the glass shard.

I stumbled through the door and illuminated another disaster area. The sitting room appeared as if a giant had upended all the furniture. I checked Lamont’s bedroom. It mirrored mine, but at least she wasn’t trapped under debris.

The sudden understanding that whatever had shaken Inside most likely caused major injuries and maybe death, cleared the confused fog from my mind in a microsecond. Energized, I wove through the carnage of the apartment. Ignoring the disaster area that used to be her office and exam room, I reached the patient area.

I swept the light around the broken beds. Emek waved a bloody hand from underneath a pile. Digging through the debris, I uncovered him.

“What happened?” he asked.

“No idea. Are you injured?”

“I woke up on the floor.”

“Any pain?”

“Don’t think so.”

I righted a bed, returned the mattress and helped Emek lie down. A groan sounded across the room. I followed it to the other patient. She had a gash on her cheek, but I couldn’t find any other injuries.

“Is Doctor Lamont all right?” she asked.

“I haven’t seen her,” I said.

“She was right here before …”

What to call it? The Big Shake? Then the thought of Lamont being one of the casualties sent panic, fear and … grief? … shooting through my heart. It triggered another horrible possibility—Riley. He could be hurt or worse.

My first impulse was to run to his apartment and check on him, but he could be anywhere. The ten-hour shifts had ceased after the rebellion and no other schedule had replaced it yet. Once I settled my out-of-control pulse, I decided to stay here. Riley knew my location. He would come to me. If he could.

I searched the infirmary and found Lamont unconscious and bleeding from a nasty gouge on her head. Something like relief flowed through me, but, if asked, I would deny the feeling. After I hefted her into a bed and bandaged her wound, I worked to get ready for the inevitable arrival of the injured.

As I rushed to clean up, redlights came on. I skidded to a stop. Redlights? That was new. And creepy. I’d never seen it before or even heard stories from the old-timers. In Inside, bluelights stayed on for sleeping or in temporarily unoccupied areas. Daylights brightened occupied rooms and work places. Darkness stayed in places like the Gap between levels, and closed rooms. In the Expanse, there had been a couple rows of bluelights in the Expanse, marking the walls.

I switched off my light and removed the helmet. The eerie red glow gave enough illumination to see, which meant I had little to no time before my “guests” showed up.

At first, they trickled in, coming in pairs or by themselves, seeking medical treatment. The trickle transformed into a stream then a deluge. I recruited those who had carried friends. We divided the injured into three groups—bad, really bad and dire. The first two groups were taken next door to Quad A3—a common area. The last stayed in the main infirmary.

Then the emergencies arrived. Panicked, I flipped the switch that called Doctor Sanchia even though I knew he would be swamped with his own problems up on level four. I tore through the piles on the floor under the supply cabinets, searching for smelling salts to wake Lamont.

When I found them, I broke the package open and waved it under her nose.

She jerked away, but opened her eyes. “Trella? What—”

Her eyes cleared as I rushed to explain. By the time I finished, she was on her feet and issuing orders. Every ablebodied person was pressed into service. She took one look at the glass shard in my arm and yanked it out.

“Wrap it for now. We’ll deal with it later,” she said.

The hours blurred together. It seemed complete and utter chaos was but a moment away, yet somehow Lamont kept us on track. I sewed stitches until my fingers turned numb. Set bones until my arms ached. The bandage around my forearm dripped blood, but I had no idea if it was mine or not.

At one point a mechanical voice boomed. Everyone froze for a second as an announcement played. “Citizens of Inside, please do not panic.”

Too late.

“All life support systems are fully operational,” it continued. “Please remain at your posts. Those off-duty, please remain in your barracks and apartments. Anyone with medical experience is asked to report to the infirmaries on levels four, three and two. More information will be relayed when available.”

We all stared at each other for a moment. Who was speaking, the computer or one of the Committee members? Before the rebellion, only the Travas had made announcements. However, nothing like this had happened when the Travas held power.

Just like the redlights, the mechanical voice was probably an automatic safety measure. After another minute of stunned silence, activity resumed and I gave up keeping track of anything.

But all through the frantic hours, bits and pieces of what had happen started to emerge. From half caught conversations and comments, I learned the power plant had caused the Big Shake. The plant occupied Quadrant C on all four levels. And the most severely injured were from Sectors B, F and a few from E. All shared a wall with Quad C. Which explained why the infirmary—Sector B3—had been in such disarray.

At some point, the daylights returned, which meant we had power again. Eventually, the flow of patients eased and dribbled. I filled a tray with glasses of water and handed them out. A numb exhaustion had soaked into me, muting my emotions and slowing my reactions.

For the first time since the … accident, I saw faces. Before I had focused on the injuries. But now I searched for those I recognized.

Half of me was relieved not to see Riley among them, but the other half was terrified that his lifeless body was in the pile on level one, waiting to be fed to Chomper. Other horrible scenarios danced through my tired mind. His body hadn’t been discovered yet. He clung to life in level four’s infirmary. He was trapped, pinned under a heavy piece of machinery.

I reached for another glass, but my tray was empty. Staring at the ripple pattern on the metal, I tried to remember what I should do as I swayed. Strong hands grabbed my shoulders from behind and guided me to my room. The bed had been cleared and the hands encouraged me to lie down.

My weak protests were ignored. Unable to resist, I collapsed onto the mattress and through a slit in my heavy eyelids, I saw Doctor Lamont. She pulled a blanket over me. And the touch of her lips on my forehead was my last memory.

Familiar voices woke me. They argued. I tried to produce the energy to care, failed and rolled over to return to sleep.

But my mind wouldn’t cooperate. It mulled and tugged until it plucked the proper memory from the depths, exposing it in a series of images. The Big Shake. The injured. Beds filled with people. Blood everywhere.

I lurched to my feet and ran from my room. My sudden exit surprised the two people on the other side of my door. Not caring I almost knocked Lamont down, I flung myself into Riley’s arms.

He squeezed me as I clung to him. Questions poured from my mouth. “Are you all right? Where have you been? What happened?”

“I’m fine. I’ve been helping Doctor Sanchia. Logan—”

I pulled back. “Is he …” The word stuck in my throat.

“He’ll be all right.” Riley swept my sleep-tousled hair from my eyes. “He looks better than you.” He rubbed his thumb lightly over the cut on my forehead. “This needs a few stitches. Want me to sew you up?”

I studied his face and realized he was half serious. “Doctor Sanchia let you suture wounds?”

“He didn’t have much choice. We were swamped with people.” Riley feigned nonchalance, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s just a needle and thread. I’ve repaired rips in Sheepy before so I was more than qualified.” Humor sparked in his blue eyes.

My mouth formed an automatic smile whenever I thought of Sheepy and his mother. The stuffed animal family had a special place in my heart. “I hope Sheepy and Mama Sheepy weren’t damaged.”

“They’re fine. I checked on them before coming here. I do have my priorities straight,” he teased.

I swatted him on the shoulder and he winced. Yanking his collar down, I exposed a fist-sized purple bruise.

He peeled my fingers from his shirt. “It’s okay. No broken bones.”

“How did you get hurt?” I asked.

“I was inspecting the wiring on level five with Logan and the floor just heaved, tossing us across the room. He hit his head, but it’s a minor concussion.”

“Heaved?”

“An explosion happened in the power plant and we stood directly above it,” he said.

“Does anyone know what set it off?”

“No. That’s for another week.” He straightened his shirt and smoothed his black hair. Since the rebellion, Riley had let it grow. It smelled of shampoo. “Right now attending to the wounded and finding missing people is the main concern.”

“Have you slept?”

He nodded to the couch. “I arrived just after you went to bed. I didn’t want to wake you, so I showered and slept here. I’ve been helping Doctor Lamont.”

Which reminded me. I stepped away from him, glancing around, but Lamont had left. “I should …”

Riley stared at me in horror. Not my face, but my clothes. Dried blood stained almost all the white fabric, which had stiffened.

“Relax, it’s not mine.”

He pointed to a wet patch on my forearm. “And that?”

“Just a cut. I need to shower and—”

Unwinding the tattered bandage, he exposed the gash. I hissed in pain when he touched it.

“Come on.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me from the apartment.

Patients recovering from their injuries lay on the floor in Lamont’s office and in the exam room. Only a thin walkway remained free. At the examination table, Lamont finished with a young girl. The girl’s mother, who hovered nearby, swept the girl into her arms and carried her out.

“Since you refused to get some rest, you might as well do Trella next,” Riley said to Lamont.

He had been more forgiving of her betrayal. Which didn’t make sense to me. His mother had been recycled when he was little because of her. Well, not directly. But with Lamont spying for the Pop Cops, the Force of Ten had failed. The consequences had been high. My father—if Karla Trava had been telling the truth about me—Riley’s mother and two others had been recycled.

Lamont claimed she had spied to protect her daughter, Sadie, which would be me if Karla’s word could be trusted. Except Karla said she recycled Sadie along with Lamont’s husband afterward. The lesson that should have been learned—don’t trust Karla or her word.

Yet when the rebels were on the verge of winning, Karla told Lamont her daughter had really been living in the lower levels as a scrub. Once again Karla threatened to harm Sadie unless Lamont helped Karla stop the rebellion.

How could such an intelligent woman fall for the same trick twice? When Karla had pointed to me as the long lost Sadie, Lamont had refused to believe her. It had been too coincidental. And I agreed.

“Sit up on the table,” Lamont said to me.

I stared at her. Deep lines of exhaustion etched her pale face. She moved as if she’d shatter at any harsh sound.

“You’re in no condition. Go to bed before you do more harm than good.” I snapped my mouth shut before I said “again.” As a doctor, she might be one of the best, but as a decent, reliable person, she failed.

“But your arm—”

“I can do it.”

“One handed?”

“Riley will help. We’ll keep an eye on everyone for you. If there’s an emergency, we’ll wake you.” I gave Riley a significant look.

Understanding my hint, he released my hand and led Lamont back to her bedroom.

I sorted supplies. Since the majority of the injuries from the accident had been cuts, we were low on sutures. I would need to restock them.

“Why did she listen to you and not me?” Riley asked when he returned.

I shrugged. “She thinks I’d be a good doctor.”

“Like her?”

“Don’t start.” I almost growled at him.

He kept pestering me to test my blood. I couldn’t make him understand that the result wouldn’t change my opinion of her.

“We’re running out of supplies. Has anyone opened all the crates found in the Expanse?” I asked.

“Not yet.”

“Somebody should go through the crates and inventory them.”

“Good idea, you should bring it up at the next Committee meeting. Oh, wait.” He smacked his head as if remembering something. “Since it’s a good idea, it will be promptly ignored.”

“They have a ton of decisions to make. Just give them time to sort everything out.”

“You’re defending them?” Riley cupped my cheek. “Are you feeling ill? Headache? Fever?”

I swatted his hand away. “I’m serious.”

“And this change in opinion is due to …”

“I realized they have a tough job and I shouldn’t be so critical. Especially since I’m no longer a part of the Committee.”

He gaped at me. “What did you just say?”

“I resigned. They don’t need me. I’m going to explore, and now I’ll have time to go through those crates.”

“I think that’s a bad idea.”

“What? Inventorying the crates or exploring?”

“Resigning.”

“Why? I’ll have more time for …. Sheepy. I’m sure he misses me.”

“Sheepy can wait. You’re the voice of reason. You’ve seen both sides.”

“They don’t listen to me. I’m too young.”

“You led the rebellion.”

“And almost all the people who were involved are on the Committee—Domotor, Hana, Takia, Breana, Jacy and your father. If you really think about it, I started it, but Jacy, Anne-Jade, Logan and the rest finished the rebellion. This is the same thing. The Committee has it covered. I’m just in the way.”

Riley tried to argue, but I didn’t want to dwell on how useless I was in those meetings. I handed him the antiseptic and pointed to the gash on my arm. He grumbled, but helped to clean and then suture the cut. Although a bit awkward, he didn’t balk when it was time to pierce my skin with the needle. That part tended to unnerve potential interns. I shouldn’t be surprised. He had assisted Lamont with surgery in our storeroom when a Pop Cop had knifed me. Maybe he should be the one to train with Lamont.

When he finished tying the last stitch, I examined his handiwork. Yet another scar on my arm. Between Vinco’s knife and my various injuries, I resembled one of those striped tigers listed in the computer files. A wild animal we had left behind. Why we left, I’d no idea, but I was sure Logan’s efforts to find the original files for Inside would be successful. Then we would know everything.

After Riley and I finished checking on all the patients, I showered and changed into clean clothes. Since I no longer traveled through the air ducts and pipes, I wore the comfortable light green V-neck shirt and pants Lamont and the other caretakers wore. Yes, I realized the irony, but since I was only 1.6 meters tall, only a few uniform types fit me—unless I wanted to wear the student jumpers. And I wasn’t about to go around Inside wearing my air scrubbing uniform or the surgery whites—a special white fabric worn during an operation that allowed the blood stains and other fluids to be easily bleached clean.

After my shower, I returned to the infirmary and organized the mess left by the Big Shake. Riley went to search for his father. Their rooms were located in Sector E4, cattycornered to the power plant, but he wasn’t too worried.

“He didn’t come to the infirmary on level four,” Riley had said. “I doubt he’s hurt, but I want to make sure.”

As I worked, people stopped by to look for loved ones and to visit the injured. Everyone seemed dazed, and I wondered how long it would take them to recover.

Hana Mineko arrived to record the names of the injured. She carried a portable computer—one of Logan’s new devices. Not only a member of the Force of Sheep, she had also been involved with Domotor’s first effort to regain control of Inside from the Trava family. Now she was a member of the Committee.

Her black curly hair, usually fixed in an intricate knot, hung in messy clumps. Dirt smudged her cheek and scratches marked her petite nose.

When she finished, I asked her how bad it was.

Pressing a few buttons on her computer, she said, “So far, I’ve listed five hundred and three.” Hana glanced at my forehead. “Make that five hundred and four injured and sixty-six to be recycled.”

My heart lurched and I put a hand to my chest. “That many are going to Chomper? Are you sure? The blast wasn’t that strong.”

“The number is unfortunately accurate and bound to increase slightly. It could have been worse,” Hana said. “The explosion happened between levels four and three. The hardest hit areas were Sectors F3 and F4, which houses apartments for the uppers. If the blast had been in the lower two levels, the scrub barracks in Sectors F2 and F1 would have been in the line of fire, and thousands would now be waiting for Chomper.” She swept a hand, gesturing to the far wall of the infirmary. “Another piece of luck, the energy went south. If it had gone west, this place would have been torn to bits. You and Doctor Lamont would be waiting for Chomper. And if it had blown to the east or north …”

Horrified, I stared at her. “Was it strong enough?”

“To punch a hole to Outside?”

A disaster that would cause the end of our world. “Yes.”

“We don’t know yet. Maintenance is looking into it.”

At the start of week 147,020, another announcement played. It had been thirty hours since the accident—looking at how much we’ve done in the meantime, thirty hours seemed an impossibly short time. The mechanical voice—which I had been correct in assuming was the computer’s automatic safety system—informed us maintenance had bypassed the damaged sections of the power plant and operations have resumed.

Once again electricity and heat were being generated and we would be up to full capacity in a matter of hours.

A new voice, sounding like Hana, requested helpers to assist with cleanup in Sector B4. One of the water storage tanks had ruptured. I imagined rust growing on the walls and floor of B4, spreading like a disease.

During the week, the infirmary emptied as people healed. About mid-week, I finally had a few hours to myself. I decided to inspect the damaged areas, starting with Sector F3.

In the back of my mind, I knew the force of the blast had been significant. But to see a huge jagged hole, crinkled metal and scorch marks was a whole other experience. A number of apartments had been destroyed. Wires hung to the floor and water dripped and pooled. The ceiling had been peeled back, exposing the Gap between levels three and four.

Using the buckled metal wall, I climbed up into the Gap. At this location, I could stand, but normally I would have to crouch in the one and a half meter space. The damage to level four resembled level three, except the floor had been ripped apart instead of the ceiling. The water pipes and air conduits that criss-crossed this space looked like broken toys.

Climbing higher, I found Logan in the plant’s main Control Room on level four. He pounded on a keyboard, muttering and cursing to himself. A white bandage covered his left temple and eyebrow. Dark purple and red bruises colored his left cheek.

“How bad is it?” I asked him.

He jerked. “Where the hell did you come from?”

It took me a moment to respond. Riley had said Logan looked better than me, but I’d slept since the explosion. Logan’s haggard oval face and bloodshot eyes told me it had been a long time since he’d rested.

“Where else would I come from? Outer space?”

He grunted and his focus returned to the computer screen.

“I’m fine. Thank you for your concern. However you look like Chomper’s been chewing on you. When’s the last time you’ve eaten?”

“No idea. What time is it now?” Logan cursed and slammed his fist down.

I pulled his chair away from the console.

“Hey!” He braced his feet, trying to scoot back.

“No.” I swiveled him to face me. Nose to nose, I gave him my best scowl. “You need food and sleep.”