Inside Out (18 page)

He laughed. “We should make that your code name. Soul of Conformity or SOC for short.”

After Riley left, I contacted Jacy through the device, telling him about our plans. “Send Logan up at hour twenty-six. He tends to get nervous so it would be a good time for another distraction. I also need the frequency of the bug in Karla’s office.”

If all went as planned at hour twenty-six, Logan would dress in the Pop Cop uniform and take the lift to level four where Riley would be waiting to escort him to our storeroom.

Realizing I’d used
our
instead of
Riley’s,
I grunted with amusement. Storeroom also failed as a descriptor. Recent events had transformed the room into an infirmary, a hideout and a bedroom. Riley had ordered me to rest.

I wormed into a comfortable position, but my thoughts swirled with worries and my hip ached. Giving up, I scanned the room for something to distract me. Besides Riley’s
electrical sketches, nothing caught my eye. I could understand why Domotor hadn’t waited for Logan. Boredom was worse than unclogging pipes for waste handling.

A little gray lump rested under the desk. Careful of my stitches, I eased to my feet and shuffled to pick up Sheepy. His mother was a few feet away. I carried them both to the couch. Small flecks of blood dotted their coats and I used the water in my drinking glass to clean them off.

I wondered about Riley’s brother. From his comments, I guessed the boy died right after birth. So where was Dada Sheepy?

Eventually, I dozed, dreaming about sheep. I held a bleating lamb as I waded through a hallway filled with sheep. A wet crunching sound chased me. It grew louder as I stumbled over the animals, convinced Chomper’s blades would soon bite me. I tripped. Rolling over, I pushed the lamb behind my back to face the threat, but Cog stood between me and darkness.

He offered his hand. I grasped it and he pulled me to my feet. Then he stepped aside and flung me toward the LC.

“Use her to ensure their cooperation,” he said.

His laughter followed me as she dragged me away.

“Game’s over, Tre…Trella. Trella. Wake up.”

I squinted into the daylight. Riley stood next to a Pop Cop. Wide awake in an instant, I nearly tore my stitches sitting up before I recognized the face. “Anne-Jade? What happened?”

“Logan’s being monitored,” she said. “A Pop Cop noticed he was spending a lot of time on the computer.”

“I thought they were all busy with the search,” I said.

“Most are, but a few Pop Cops are convinced the missing scrub is being helped and are determined to be the one to
find you and get a promotion. They’ve made life in the lower levels even more intolerable.” Her gaze swept the room. “Although, I must say I’m disappointed by level four. Is level three any better?” Anne-Jade asked Riley.

“No. It’s about the same.”

“Pity.”

“Anne-Jade, do you have any news?” I asked.

She settled on the couch, leaving Riley to sit on the floor. “The first thing I’m supposed to tell you is from Jacy.” Her nose creased with distaste. “He says you owe him big and when this whole mess is over, you’re his slave for a week.”

Nice of him to be optimistic.

Riley’s mouth opened in stunned outrage. “He doesn’t mean—”

“No.” I assured him. “Jacy’ll have me planting his bugs all over Inside. Go on, Anne-Jade.”

“Logan gave me a list of password questions to memorize. Do you have a wipe board?”

Riley rummaged through the desk, and wrote down the questions. All were vague yet had enough information to make them seem possible to answer. The third question mentioned a platitude about being unable to see. No quick answers jumped to mind.

“What about the uppers? Did Logan have time to check them?” I asked.

“Yes. He said he found one of the names mentioned as an informant in the security files. The rest had clean records.”

“Which one?” I asked.

“Kiana Garrard.”

Her name banged hard against my metal heart, sending
vibrations along my skin. I shouldn’t be surprised. If she could abandon her child in the lower levels, she could rat out her husband and others.

“Anything else about the uppers?” Riley asked.

“Yes, Logan said Takia Qadim would be the best person to have on our side as she has access to multiple systems.”

“How will she and the others know to trust us?”

I shuffled through all the information Domotor had told me. “This is going to sound hokey, but tell them the Force of Ten is back in action.” Which was true. If I counted Logan, Anne-Jade, Riley, Doctor Lamont and myself the number was ten.

“I don’t know if I can say that with a straight face,” Riley said.

“Just think of the consequences if they don’t help us.”

“Good point.”

Anne-Jade had been fidgeting with the top button on the Pop Cop uniform. Dipping her head down, she spoke to her chest. “Did it work?” Then she pressed a fingertip to her earring, cocking her head.

Riley and I exchanged a significant look. Had the pressure been too much for her?

“Okay. I’ll give it to her. Thanks.” Anne-Jade noticed our dubious expressions. “I can’t keep playing messenger between you and the lower levels.” She pulled the small blue earring from her earlobe. “Receiver.” She dug into her pocket, and removed a strange metal device that resembled a rivet gun. She placed the earring in the gun and pressed it to my left earlobe. “Hold still.”

Before I could protest, she squeezed and a loud pop sounded in my ear followed by a sharp pain. Anne-Jade batted
my hand away as she finished, wiping my lobe with a medicinal-smelling cloth. It came away wet with my blood.

“Now you can hear Jacy.” She yanked on her top button. It popped off with ease and revealed an identical button underneath. “Microphone. It’s built into a standard issue button and attaches with ease. Go on, try it.”

I clipped the metal microphone to my top button.

“She’s on,” Anne-Jade said.

“Trella?” Jacy asked.

I started and glanced around. His clear voice sounded as if he stood next to me.

“Trella, are you there?”

“Yes.”

“No need to shout, I can hear you just fine. These devices of the Tech Nos are wonderful. Once they make more, we can coordinate our team’s efforts.”

“What team?”

Anne-Jade averted her gaze.

“The Gateway team of course.” Jacy’s matter-of-fact reply contrasted with his upsetting revelation.

“How did you—”

“He threatened to report us to the Pop Cops,” Anne-Jade said in her defense.

Under normal circumstances, Jacy wouldn’t interact with the Pop Cops.

“You fell for his bluff. How much did you tell him?” I asked her.

But Jacy answered. “Everything and you should have come to me right away instead of blundering around.”

Riley’s confusion increased as I talked to Jacy, but he kept quiet.

“Blundering? You would have done better?” I asked.

“Of course. I would have assigned people to cover your shift, to help smuggle food and to supply you with information.”

“But I couldn’t—”

“Trust anyone. I know.”

I had planned to say “get you in trouble,” but he was right, too. “You’re helping now.” With Jacy, we were the force of eleven. It didn’t have the same cachet.

“Small consolation, considering the havoc down here.” Yet a gleeful challenge spiked his tone as if he looked forward to the upcoming difficulties.

“What’s the status?” I braced for his answer.

“Pop Cops everywhere, snooping around. It’s only a matter of time before they do a full level-wide search, and there are certain…things I’d rather they not find.”

“What about the negotiations with Karla?”

A pause. “There are none. Before you yell, hear me out.”

I growled my assent.

“Karla offered every enticement possible to get the scrubs to rat you out. Failing that, she has announced Cogon’s life could be spared if you turn yourself in. Wait! Since nothing has resulted from her efforts, she believes you’re hiding in the ducts, wounded and close to expiring. The air shafts are filled with RATSS. And I don’t want to bust her illusions.”

“What about Cog?”

“He’s been protecting you since we were toddlers, and the worst thing you can do for him is to undermine his efforts and turn yourself in. Besides, once you open Gateway, it’ll be a whole new world.”

“But what if—”

“Stop! Don’t what-if me. Do your part and get Gateway
opened, and I’ll do mine, making life miserable for the Pop Cops. Time to go. I’m needed elsewhere, but I’ll keep a man monitoring this frequency.”

His comment reminded me. “Jacy, what’s the frequency for Karla’s bug?”

“Ninety-eight megahertz.”

“Thanks for your help.”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry, you
will
return the favor. And once the Tech Nos build more of those receivers, I’ll contact you.”

I turned off the button microphone, and filled Anne-Jade and Riley in on what Jacy had said.

“What’s to stop the Travas from picking up the frequency?” I asked.

“Nothing, but with a large number of frequencies, the odds are small they would find it,” Riley explained. He stood and brushed off his pants. “I’ll escort Anne-Jade back to the lift.” He handed me the board with the password questions. “You work on these, and I’ll start recruiting uppers.”

I couldn’t help smiling at his bossy tone. “Who put you in charge?”

“Sheepy.”

“Are we the Force of Sheep now?”

“No. We are the Force of Onaaaaae.” He bleated the word as if he were a sheep.

I THREW A PILLOW AT RILEY FOR HIS AWFUL PUN. HE
ducked easily and escorted Anne-Jade from our storeroom. Before he left, he poked his head back into the room and said, “Byaaaaae.”

My aim was off and the next pillow hit the closing door. I debated the merits of standing to retrieve the cushions and decided to stay on the couch and study the list of ten password questions. We had solved the one to gain access to Gateway’s coordinates, and the other referred to the number of teeth on my comb with the pearl handle—which I had counted before losing it when the Pop Cop had attacked me.

Eight questions remained. I puzzled over them, but I couldn’t solve any of them with one answer. Number six was,
What do you turn to get the outside in?

The answer could be a doorknob, a handle, a lock or a screw. With no one for me to bounce ideas off of, I wrote down as many possible answers and tried another.

Your eyes can see, but mine don’t work, yet I see what you can’t.
What am I?
And tried another. After a few hours, my head ached. I abandoned my task and rested. Hour thirty meant Riley had returned to work and it would be a while before my next meal. My empathy for Domotor increased with every passing hour. Those first seventy hours in his hideout had been rough. At least he had a washroom and kitchen. I calculated how long he could survive on the food stocked in his refrigerator. His continued freedom still amazed me.

I tried to sleep, but my empty stomach complained, and Doctor Lamont’s offer of using her shower tempted me. The floor plans of the four levels of Inside matched for the most part. Quad C4 was dedicated to the power plant, and Sectors D4, E4 and F4 contained living areas. The biggest difference between level four and one was the water tanks.

Sectors B4 and H4 housed large water-storage tanks, while on level one those sectors held the laundry and the waste-water treatment plant. The infirmary for the scrubs was in Sector H2 along with the care facility.

I had limited my excursions to the upper levels to avoid being detected, but I remembered seeing the uppers’ infirmary on level three Sector B. To gain access through the air shafts, I would need to climb into the Gap. My tender hip would be a problem.

I still wore the upper’s student jumper. Could I stroll through the upper levels as if I belonged there? More importantly, would I? Anne-Jade had worn Jacy’s listening device in plain sight. Zippy appeared to be a regular cleaning troll. Even the decoder had an ordinary disguise as a timer.

Was a shower worth getting caught? No. But it was worth testing if I could travel through the upper levels without being recognized. A thin rationalization. And the Pop Cops
wouldn’t think to look for me up here. Right? Decision made, I searched for a good spot to leave Riley a note, hoping he wouldn’t be too upset.

Before leaving the storeroom, I combed my hair with my fingers and let it hang down past my shoulders to cover the earring. I used the water in my glass to wash my face and rinsed the dried blood from my hands. A tool belt around my waist would appear odd to the uppers. Funny how I felt improperly dressed without its comforting weight, but all I had left was the decoder. It fit into a long pocket in the uniform’s pants. Once I tucked the wipe board of password questions inside the top of my jumper, I was, at least physically, ready to go.

I mapped the shortest route from the storeroom to the infirmary in my mind, drew in a steadying breath and left the room. After a quick peek around the optical illusion of the hallway to check for people, I strode with purpose as if I had an important message to deliver.

A few uppers met my gaze and nodded, others ignored me and the three Pop Cops I passed didn’t show any signs they recognized me. With my heart somersaulting in my chest, I arrived at the infirmary. The possibility that Doctor Lamont wouldn’t be there didn’t occur to me until I pushed open the door. The rectangular room duplicated the scrub’s infirmary, containing a row of beds against each long wall, with a narrow path between them. But the privacy curtains hanging from a U-shaped metal track on the ceiling above the beds weren’t included in the scrubs’ room. Two beds were occupied with sleeping patients. A high counter arched from the back right wall next to a wide entrance.

When I was halfway across the room, Doctor Lamont bustled from the entry, carrying a tray. A slight hitch in her step indicated her surprise, but she smiled.

She gestured toward the back room. “I’ll be there in a minute. I need to give Izak his meds.”

I aimed for the door. Shelves filled with medical supplies hid behind the high counter on the right. Through the entrance was an examination room. Stainless-steel instruments glinted in the harsh light. I balked at the threshold. The flat table covered with a black pad, straps and stirrups reminded me of my first medical examination.

Scrubs were required to have a complete physical at fourteen centiweeks. No part of my body had been left un-examined. I shivered at the memory of the cold probes. The Pop Cops claimed the exam ensured the scrub’s heath and ability to perform the job they had been assigned.

I jumped when Doctor Lamont placed her cold hand on my back, guiding me into the room.

“The surgery is over there.” She pointed to a wide door on the right. “And my office is back here.”

We entered a small alcove in the back left corner, which opened into her workplace. A far friendlier place than the last. My gaze was drawn to the oversized quilt hanging on the wall. Small squares of color had been sewn together in a pattern. I squinted and stepped back, trying to discern it.

She noticed my gaze. “It’s a stethoscope.”

The shape of the long tubes and round bottom became clear.

“You’re wondering why a stethoscope.” Her thin eyebrows arched as if inviting me to speculate.

“No. It’s one of the tools of your trade.”

“But why not a thermometer or a scope or a scalpel?”

“It’s your quilt. I think you would know the answer better than me.”

She laughed. “Yes, but I want your opinion.”

I hid my surprise by focusing on the quilt. All the doctor’s instruments were important. Each played a role. A stethoscope listened to a patient’s heart and lungs. I imagined working as a doctor as patient after patient came through the doors. After a while, I thought doctors would view their work as just another job. How would a doctor make a connection with so many different people?

“You picked the stethoscope because hearing a person’s heart beating is a…” I moved my hands as if I could pull the right word from my throat. “Treasured part of being a doctor. No one else can hear it unless they’re really close to the person. By letting you listen to their heart, they’re trusting you.”

She nodded her head as if impressed by my answer.

“Am I right?” I asked.

“There is no right or wrong answer. You could have said it was my favorite instrument, which is also true. One thing I like to do with my stethoscope is listen to Inside’s heartbeat.” Doctor Lamont pulled it from her neck and handed it to me. “Go ahead. Press it to the wall.”

Curious, I placed the ends in my ears. My left lobe throbbed when the instrument brushed the earring. Touching the wall with the round sensor, I braced for an amplified Hum. Instead, a distinct rumble sounded, alternating from louder to softer. A series of knocks also repeated in a steady beat. I returned the device.

“Interesting, isn’t it? Our ears can’t discern all those mechanical noises. To us it’s just the Hum. Unnoticed until we
make an effort to hear it. I enjoy listening to the different components of Inside’s heartbeat. It comforts me.” She swept her hand out in a dismissing wave. “Silly, I know.”

“It’s not silly.”

“Well, I’m sure you didn’t come here to discuss my quilt. I’m guessing my offer sounded more inviting with time.”

“Yes.”

“Any trouble on the way over?” she asked.

“None at all.”

A tired sadness filled her olive-colored eyes. “I’m not surprised. People have been afraid to get to know others who are outside their families. The halls are filled with strangers.”

Sounded liked the scrubs. “Why?”

“When noticed by the Travas, the friendship is immediately a cause for suspicion. The Travas view any group of people as potential rebels. Also, people are afraid of being reported. If you don’t have a friendship with another, then when they get mad at you, they can’t call you a scrub-lover and have you arrested.”

I stared at her. If I exchanged Trava for Pop Cop, she could be talking about the lower levels.

She shook her head. “You don’t want to hear about this. Wait here, let me check to make sure my clothes aren’t all over the floor.” The doctor disappeared through another door.

This place reminded me of a maze. I glanced around the rest of the room. Her computer occupied the middle of her neat desk, and two big armchairs faced it. A basket of toys sat on the floor. I knelt next to it and rooted through the meager contents. When disappointment stabbed, I realized I had been searching for Dada Sheepy.

“For my younger patients,” she said behind me. “The
shower is clean, but I want a peek at your incision before your stitches get wet.”

She led me to her suite. Bigger than Riley’s, it had two bedrooms, a sitting room, a small kitchen and a washroom. I peeled the uniform down and showed her the cut. In the brutal glare of the daylights, the bruises appeared purple, and black thread held together a swollen and angry red line. I swayed and rested against the wall.

“Healing nicely despite your adventures.”

I gave her a dubious look.

“Trust the doctor.” She sniffed and eyed my uniform. “Shower. I’ll bring you a bowl of hot soup and a change of clothes.”

I removed all the devices and decoder and hid them under a towel. The warm water felt wonderful despite the sting of the soap. When I finished, a steaming cup and a clean jumper waited for me as promised. I could get used to this attention.

Perhaps I could let Trella die in the air shafts so Ella could remain here.

“Better?” Doctor Lamont asked.

“Much.”

“Your room’s on the right. Get some sleep.”

My room, I repeated in my mind. My room. With a narrow bed and single table with lamp, it wasn’t elaborate or even special. But it was a rich luxury compared to sleeping in the barracks. The mattress springs creaked when I sat on the bed. Fun. I bounced, enjoying the feel. The bunks in the lower levels were cushioned with thin mats. Not that it mattered to me, I could sleep in an air shaft. But this was the first time I felt a real difference between the uppers and lowers.

If my parents hadn’t abandoned me, would I be living in
a similar room? Would I be happy? I imagined my life before the whole mess with Domotor. Would I trade that life for this? Yes. But trade my life now? No way.

As I stretched out on the bed, I worried I would be spoiled and unable to sleep in the vents after spending time here. For once, I decided to enjoy the moment.

Riley’s insistent voice roused me from a dreamless slumber.

“…need to speak with her.”

I stepped from the room feeling stronger and followed the voices to the doctor’s office. Riley sat on the edge of one of the armchairs, leaning forward as if ready to launch himself across the desk. He sprang to his feet as soon as he spotted me in the doorway.

“You
are
better. When I saw your note…” Riley glanced at the doctor.

“He thought your condition had worsened and you sought medical help.” A glint shone in her eyes. “He didn’t believe me.”

“Do you know how long it took her to trust
me?
” he asked the doctor. “I couldn’t imagine Ella risking so much for a shower.”

He had a point. Normally, I would be very suspicious of the doctor’s motives. But my regular instincts no longer felt right. All I thought I knew had been wrong.

“Not just a shower,” Doctor Lamont said, “but a bowl of my famous soup. And I’m sure she’s ready for another serving.” She winked at me as she left the room.

An awkward silence descended.

“I’m sorry you worried,” I said.

He smiled. “It’s not all bad. At least now I know to offer you a shower and soup if I need you to trust me again.”

With the tension broken, I settled into the other armchair. “You were talking about others when I first came in. Do you have any news?”

“They’re being difficult. The near miss before has convinced most of them it won’t work, but they’re willing to at least listen to you.” He paused in thought. “If the doctor is agreeable, I can have the others come to the infirmary at different times, complaining of a headache or something. You can talk to them here. It wouldn’t draw as much suspicion and we can still keep our room a secret.”

His plan made sense.

“And it avoids having the group members find out about each other, making it safer,” Riley added.

Domotor had done the same thing, yet four people had been recycled. Keeping the others ignorant sounded logical, and my initial reaction was to agree. But the notion clanged. The atmosphere of the upper levels mirrored what the Pop Cops tried to do to the lower levels. Keep to yourself. Trust no one. Report your fellow to gain favor. I fell for it. From my ease in traveling in plain sight, I knew the uppers had fallen for it, too.

And so had the scrubs. Before.

Before what?

My thoughts raced over the last four weeks. They had kept my secret despite enticements and threats from Lieutenant Commander Karla. The kitchen scrubs worked together to stow the food for Domotor in the air shaft. Jacy and his buddies. Logan and Anne-Jade. They never would have risked themselves before.

Before…Broken Man and the promise of Gateway. He gave them a reason to join together and risk themselves for another.

“No,” I said. “It will fail.”

“What do you mean?” Riley asked.

The doctor came in carrying a bowl of soup, but I had her full attention. I wondered how much she had heard or what she suspected.

I answered his question regardless of the doctor. “Keeping everyone separate won’t work. They all need to know who is in the group. They need to talk and make a connection.” I looked at the doctor. “Hear each other’s heartbeat, and know they’re all risking themselves for the same reason. It’s too easy to report a name. Or to give up when you don’t know who you’re letting down.” I glanced between Riley and Doctor Lamont, willing them to understand.