Outside In

Bubba Boom’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Or she would need protection. Even the Queen of the Pipes can make wrong assumptions.”

I smiled. “Never said I was perfect. And I’m not going to accuse an innocent.”

He held up a hand to stop me. “I didn’t get a chance to fully examine the blast site. Did you find any shrapnel that looked like it didn’t match any of the surrounding equipment?”

“Shrapnel as in pieces of the bomb?”

“Exactly.”

“Yes.”

He set his torch and mask down. “Okay, I’ll look at the site first, and then I’ll need to see what you found.”

I followed him to the blast location. He squinted at the damage, ran his fingers along the scorched marks, sniffed the wreckage, and sorted through the rubble. Filling his pockets with odd bits of metal and wires, he straightened and asked to see what we had collected.

The control room was empty when Bubba Boom and I entered. I showed him the pieces Logan found. He set everything out on a table, including the fragments he had gathered. Arranging and turning the bits, he scrutinized each one.

Logan arrived, but I hushed his questions. He stood next to me as we waited for Bubba to finish.

“This doesn’t look familiar,” Bubba said. He held the biggest chunk up to the light.

“Not one of yours?” Logan asked. His tone was almost nasty—very unusual for him.

“I stopped building these. You know that better than anyone,” Bubba said.

These two had a history. Wonderful.

“The Pop Cops aren’t around. You could have returned to your old ways.”

Bubba Boom huffed in exasperation. “You’re still mad at me? I never told the Pop Cops about you and your sister. That was more important than the fact I stopped helping you design your little gadgets.”

“Those gadgets—”

“Logan, that’s enough,” I said. “He agreed to assist us with finding the bomber.”

Giving me an odd look, Logan said, “How did you find out about him?”

“Jacy.”

Logan and Bubba exchanged a glance.

“What?” I demanded.

“A distraction?” Logan asked him.

“Could be.”

Fear sizzled up my spine. “Another bomb?”

“No,” Logan said. “More like keeping you busy and away from the real culprit.”

“Why would Jacy do that?” I asked.

“Don’t know,” Logan said. “He’s hard to read.”

“Anything that doesn’t have numbers scrolling across it is hard for you to read,” I teased.

“Real funny. At least I didn’t fall for Jacy’s disinformation.”

“Not quite,” Bubba Boom said.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“Just because I stopped playing with fire, doesn’t mean I ignore what’s going on around me.” He held up a twisted piece of metal. “I recognize this.”

5

“DO TELL,” LOGAN SAID. I swatted Logan on the arm. “Cut it out.” He acted like a two-hundred-week-old, and I wondered if he had looked up to Bubba Boom only to be disappointed when the man caved in to the Pop Cops.

“There’s a couple of scrubs,” Bubba said. “I wouldn’t call them Tech Nos as their devices are rudimentary, but they’ve gotten together and built a few incendiary apparatuses.”

“Could they be responsible for the damage in the power plant?” I asked.

“Possible. One of them works in the wastewater treatment plant, the other in hydroponics. As far as I know they’ve only set off a couple stink bombs. One time they cleared everyone out of Sector E2 due to the stench.” He smiled at the memory. “They also helped keep the Pop Cops occupied while you were busy rebelling.”

Which meant Jacy knew about them. “What are their names?”

Bubba Boom squinted at the warped metal in his hands. He turned it over and over. “What if they’re innocent?”

“Then we keep searching. We’re not like the Pop Cops,” I said.

“Really? Then why are there ISF goons patrolling the barracks all the time?” he asked.

“Because of the fights,” Anne-Jade said from the doorway. “They’re not working so they’re bored. Nine times out of ten boredom leads to trouble. We did our share of proving that theory didn’t we, Bubba?”

A wide grin spread on his face, matching Anne-Jade’s. “We sure did,” he said.

Logan’s displeasure deepened. “As much as I’m not enjoying this little reunion, we need the names of the two stink bombers.”

Bubba Boom met Anne-Jade’s gaze. “Promise me you won’t do anything rash? That you will be one hundred percent sure they’re guilty before you arrest them?”

“When have I ever done anything rash?” Anne-Jade asked.

He gestured to me. “When you risked everything helping her.”

“That wasn’t rash,” she corrected. “Risky, dangerous and suicidal, but not rash. We studied the situation carefully before offering our assistance.” She winked at me. “Stubborn scrub almost turned us down, but it worked in our favor.”

Bubba Boom tapped the metal piece against his leg as he considered. “All right. Kadar works in waste management, and Ivie is one of the gardeners in hydroponics.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Can you keep our … suspicions quiet for now? I don’t want people to panic.”

“Sure.” He hesitated and glanced at Anne-Jade before leaving the control room.

“He’s full of sheep’s manure,” Logan said. “A woman named Ivie who just happens to work in hydroponics. Come on, how dumb does he think we are?”

“At least he didn’t say Crapdar,” I said.

Logan laughed. “Close enough.”

Anne-Jade frowned. “I think he’s telling the truth.”

“You would,” he said.

“What’s that suppose to mean?”

Before they could launch into an argument, I asked Logan, “Can you look up those names in the population records, see if they do exist?”

“I don’t have the time, but you can do it. It’s easy,” he said.

I tried to object, but Anne-Jade said, “I need you first.”

Her tone didn’t give me a warm feeling. “For what?”

“None of the Travas will tell me who worked on the Transmission.”

Cold fingers gripped my stomach as I braced for the rest of her news.

“However, ex-Lieutenant Commander Karla Trava is willing to cooperate. But she’ll only negotiate with you.”

“Do I want to know why?”

“I think it’s obvious,” Anne-Jade said. When I failed to respond, she added, “Gloating over our problems for one, and just being difficult because she can. Plus she sees you as her ultimate enemy. If it wasn’t for you, she would still be in command of the Pop Cops.”

“Does she know I don’t have the authority to grant anything she asks for? That I would need the Committee’s approval?”

“Yes. And that may be part of the gloating.”

“Wonderful,” I grumbled. “Do I have to talk to her in the brig?”

“No. We’ll bring her to my office and secure her, then give you two privacy.”

This kept getting better and better. “When?”

“Now.”

The thought of negotiating with Karla Trava sapped my energy. I rubbed my hand over my eyes.

Logan said, “Trella, each second we stand here brings us closer to a collision. We need to fix the Transmission.”

“All right.” Let the fun begin.

Anne-Jade had commandeered half of Karla’s office in Quad A4, including her large desk and multiple computers. The other side held two smaller worktables for her lieutenants. The room remained almost the same from when Karla occupied it. Weapons and handcuffs hung from the side wall, Remote Access Temperature Sensitive Scanners (RATSS) lined a shelf and a bench with chains and cuffs bisected the area.

The couch had been removed and a variety of high-tech devices filled the long table. Anne-Jade’s little receivers and microphones made the Pop Cop’s communicators look clunky and old.

While Anne-Jade and her lieutenants fetched Karla, I paced the room. I automatically noted all the points of escape—two air vents in the ceiling and four heating vents near the floor.

When the door banged open, I steeled myself for the encounter. Sitting on the edge of a hard metal chair, I fidgeted with the buttons on my shirt. Wedged between the two ISF officers, Karla’s smirk didn’t waver as they cuffed her to the bench. She had twisted her long blond hair up into a knot on the top of her head. Her gaze swept my face and clothes, sparking amusement in her violet-colored eyes.

Now that I knew the doctors could change a person’s eye color, I wondered if Lamont had tampered with hers.

“We’ll be right outside.” Anne-Jade handed me a stunner. “Just yell if you need us.”

The door shut with a metallic clang that vibrated in my heart, matching my rapid pulse.

Karla laughed. “Still afraid of me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. It’s disgust and not fear on my face. You reek of the brig.”

“And you should know, having spent many hours there.”

“Yes, I spent about thirty hours in your custody before I escaped. You’re up to … what? Fourteen hundred at least and counting. Big difference.”

Her humor faded. “We underestimated you. Something that won’t happen again. But who could blame us? Look at you. Leader of a rebellion and you’re still a scrawny little scrub.”

“What did you expect?”

“Better clothes.” It was my turn to laugh, but it died when she said, “And more power. You risked your life for them, yet you have to beg for the Committee’s permission to do anything.”

“Unlike you, I’m quite content with my role as support personnel. I never desired power, just freedom,” I said.

“Uh-huh. And do you have your freedom?”

“Of course.”

She opened her mouth, but I cut in and said, “Let’s skip the small talk crap. We need the names of those who know how to repair the Transmission. What do you want in exchange?”

A sly half-smile teased the corners of her mouth as she leaned back, crossing her legs. “We never had that type of trouble when we were in charge. I think some of the scrubs miss us. And when you combine unhappy scrubs and bored prisoners, you can get an explosive reaction.”

I studied her. Was she guessing about the sabotage? And was her comment a hint of more problems to come? Either way, a quick negotiation didn’t seem likely.

“Should we recycle all the Travas to avoid any more trouble?” I asked.

She shrugged. “You obviously need a few of us to help with unexpected repairs, but this indecisiveness over what to do with us will only cause more problems. Which I’m more than happy to sit back and watch.”

Anne-Jade had been right about her desire to gloat. “Thanks for the tip,” I said. “But I’m here to get names and not a lecture.”

Annoyance flashed in her eyes before she returned to acting casual. “Fine. In exchange for fixing the Transmission, we want the people in the brig to be released to our quarters, and we desire trials to determine degree of guilt in your warped little minds. There is no reason the entire Trava family should be confined.”

I hated to admit this, but she had a point about the Trava family. However, releasing the upper officers from the brig would be a mistake.

Karla waved her hand as best she could while cuffed to the bench. “Run along to the Committee now and deliver my request like a good little scrub.”

I couldn’t suppress my grin as I toggled on my button microphone. Repeating her demands to the Committee, I waited as they discussed them. She rested her hands in her lap in an attempt to disguise the fury pulsing through her body, but her rigid posture betrayed her. I slid back in my chair, relaxing.

As expected the Committee was willing to review each family member’s actions prior to the rebellion to determine degree of guilt for each, but they refused to move the brig prisoners. I relayed this to Karla.

“Next?”

She scowled and my heart stuttered for a few beats—an automatic response.

“My terms are not negotiable,” she said.

My temper flared. This had been a waste of time. “Then we’re done.” I stood to leave.

“You have to fix the Transmission.” Karla’s voice held a bit of panic. “The survival of our world depends on it.”

I pressed a finger to my ear as if listening to a message. “The Committee is willing to include those in the brig in the review process.”

“No. We want out of the brig.”

Keeping my hand near my ear, I cocked my head and furrowed my brow. “Okay, then you’ll be taken out of the brig and sent to Chomper.”

Shock bleached her face. “That’s not what I meant. What about the repairs?”

It was hard not to snigger over her reaction. “I’m sure once the others see how we cleaned out the brig, they’ll be more cooperative.”

Her hard stare burned like acid on my skin, but I kept my face neutral.

“You’re lying,” she said.

“Doesn’t matter if you believe me or not.” I strode toward the door.

“Wait,” she said.

I paused but didn’t turn around.

“I’ll tell you the names if you do a review for all the Travas, including those in the brig.”

Glancing over my shoulder, I said, “All right.”

I rummaged for a wipe board and marker and returned to Karla. “Don’t lie,” I said. “If the names are wrong, you’ll be the first to be sent to Chomper. I’ll do the honors myself.”

Karla rattled off three and I wrote them down. I didn’t recognize any of them, but I hadn’t been expecting to. Without saying goodbye, I left the office. Anne-Jade waited in the hallway.

“Well?” she asked.

I handed her the board.

She whistled. “Last I heard, the Committee was waiting for a counter-offer. What happened?”

“She pissed me off.”

Feeling rather satisfied over my meeting with Karla, I changed into my climbing clothes and returned to the Expanse. I found the mark I had left on my last trip. The safety equipment hung nearby, so I strapped it on and made another attempt to reach the ceiling.

The new route looked promising and, after finding plenty of handholds, I climbed higher than ever before. I rested at twenty-three meters above level ten. Craning my head back, I shone my light up into the blackness. Still no ceiling. Logan had found a few diagrams in the computer system, and from them he estimated Inside’s height to be about seventy-five meters, which would put it about two meters above my head. Either the computer or Logan had been wrong.

I yanked on the safety line and guessed I had another couple meters before I was literally at the end of my rope.

When I felt strong enough, I continued and discovered why meter seventy-five was mentioned in the computer. A bottom rung of a ladder started at that point. I grabbed the wide cold bar, hoping the rung would hold my weight. The smooth and rounded shape fit nicely in my hands. And my light illuminated the ladder which continued up with more rungs disappearing into the darkness.

I climbed on the ladder another meter, confirming the metal hadn’t rusted or deteriorated with time. Squinting, I shone my light higher, but the ceiling still remained out of sight. However, I thought I spotted a dim gleam of a reflection. Wishful thinking or my imagination, it didn’t matter. It was enough to justify my decision to unhook my harness from the safety line.

Despite the cold, sweat soaked the fabric of my uniform. I rubbed my moist palm on my arm before grasping the next rung. Continuing up the ladder with slow and careful movements, I tested each before allowing it to bear my weight. In the silence of the Expanse, my breath sounded loud and mechanical. My heart thudded with urgency as it reminded me of the danger. One slip, and … I wouldn’t think about it.

Instead, I focused on keeping a tight grip and my balance on the rungs. Concentrating so hard on my hands and feet, I bumped my head on the ceiling. I clung to the ladder in surprise, and when my muscles stopped trembling, I scanned the flat expanse of metal over my head. Finally!

I checked the altimeter. Inside was eighty meters high, which meant we could build six more levels for a total of sixteen. Wow. That was mind-numbing. I hoped our systems could service all those levels. And what about keeping them clean and in good condition? And when did I turn into such a worrier?

Eventually, someone would need to explore the entire ceiling. Logan had read about another Outer Space Gateway in the computer files. By the way he described the file system, it had sounded as jumbled as the infirmary’s supplies after the explosion. Between the Travas’ attempts to erase files and the sheer amount of information, Logan had said—with his usual glee over a technical challenge—that it was an utter mess.

With one last look upwards, I steeled myself for the descent and stopped. Moving the beam of light slowly, I searched for the almost invisible indentation I thought I spotted from the corner of my eye. I swept the beam back and forth over a square meter-sized section. When I was just about to give up, the light skipped over a line.

I found a near-invisible hatch! Pleased over my discovery, it took me a few seconds to understand the full ramifications of my find. Above each of the four levels we have been living in, was a near-invisible hatch to the Gap between levels. This meter and a half space housed pipes and wires and room for someone like me to move between levels without being seen.

I had thought I reached the ceiling. But the presence of a near-invisible hatch meant there was something on the other side.

6

SOMETHING ON THE OTHER SIDE. I REPEATED IT IN MY mind in order for the logical side of my brain to catch up. No black rubber ringed the hatch, which meant it wasn’t a Gateway to Outer Space. There could be another Expanse and room for additional levels. I laughed, but it sounded strained and metallic as it echoed. I had thought sixteen levels incomprehensible.

Only one way to know for sure, I hooked my legs through the rungs on the ladder to anchor my body. Stretching my hands up, I felt for the release.

The pop-click reverberated through the bones in my arms. I pushed the hatch. The metal groaned and creaked, setting my teeth on edge. A dusty stale smell drifted down.

When the opening was big enough for me to fit through, I shined my light inside. The ladder continued another meter before stopping. Odd shapes decorated the wall. Taking a risk, I climbed into the space. The floor seemed solid so I stepped down, but still held on to the ladder just in case.

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