Текст книги "Inside Out"

Автор книги: Maria V. Snyder

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

19

ONCE I UNDERSTOOD, THE DOCTOR’S EXPLANATION slammed into me, shattering my beliefs. “Uppers are only allowed one child?” The foreign concept refused to find an empty seat in my logic.

“Yes. We have limited space, so the Travas have made it a law.” The doctor peered at me in concern.

Perhaps if I broke down her information into manageable bits. “You mentioned the couple having an accident. How can getting pregnant be an accident? If you have sex, you’re bound to have a baby in time.”

“We have birth control, Ella. Women can choose if they want a baby or not. I’m guessing by your horrified surprise, scrubs don’t have that option.”

The revelation made perfect sense and yet made no sense at all. My mind grappled with it. It explained why Riley only saw his brother once, why he had said you don’t have to have a child, and it meant perhaps my mother hadn’t abandoned me. I could have been a second or third child—an astounding notion! Finally Domotor’s comment about my blue eyes made sense.

“Those drops?” I asked.

“Drops?”

“In the baby’s eyes.”

“Oh. To change the color so the babies blend in with the scrubs and don’t get teased for being different.”

It didn’t always work. I mulled over what she had said about birth control. Why not let the scrubs use birth control? With the overcrowded conditions getting worse every hour, why not limit the number of children born?

“Ella, are you all right?” Doctor Lamont stood beside me. She placed a cold hand on my forehead. “You lost all color in your cheeks. Take another sip of your drink.”

I gulped the spirits, welcoming the harsh sting as it ripped down my throat. I asked Lamont why scrubs weren’t offered birth control.

“Truthfully, I’m surprised they don’t. The uppers have assumed scrubs don’t cherish their offspring. That they keep having babies because they don’t have to care for them. Basically, we all thought the crowding in the lower levels was your own fault.” She returned to her seat. “Interesting how certain facts have been ignored in the computer. Or deleted.”

I mulled over the ignorance on both sides. The results created two groups of people who distrusted each other, which would be ideal if you didn’t want them to join forces. Again my contemplations looped back to why they let the scrubs grow in number.

We did the grunge work, but even if we limited births, there still would be plenty of scrubs to work. Another theory popped into mind. “Is the birth control hard to make? Or of limited quantity?”

“Not really. It’s grown in hydroponics. You only need to ingest it when you’re planning to be intimate.” She jerked her head as if struck with a sudden thought. “You didn’t seem concerned about your damaged ovary. Was it because you don’t want children?”

“Yes. I’m not going to be intimate with anyone so that—” I waved toward the infirmary “—doesn’t happen to me or to a child.”

We discussed various reasons the Travas would allow the scrubs to increase in number, but we couldn’t find a logical explanation.

“I’ll ask LC Karla next time I see her,” I joked.

But Doctor Lamont’s demeanor turned to ice. “If that woman was injured, I would not save her life. In fact, I would happily feed her to Chomper myself.” She stood and strode from the room, claiming she needed to check on her patients.

While I agreed with the doctor about Karla, I wondered what the LC had done to cause such a strong reaction from a caring individual.

The meeting with the uppers who’d agreed to help us convened in the doctor’s sitting room at hour sixty. Riley and Doctor Lamont stood apart from the group, who talked among themselves in low whispers, getting acquainted and reminiscing about prior events. Riley’s father, Jacob, kept peering at his son as if amazed the boy was there.

After learning about the uppers’ birth control, I had wanted to discuss so much with Riley, but the group arrived and we had limited time.

Takia Qadim was the most vocal and spoke for the group. “Why will this attempt work when our first one failed?” Her sharp and intelligent gaze focused on me.

I willed my heart to stop its panicked thumping, and reminded myself about the need for full disclosure. “First we already know where Gateway is.” A mixture of expressions spread over the four uppers. I waited for the information to sink in.

“Second, we have access to the other hidden files. One led us to the location, and I’m reasonably sure the others will tell us how to open Gateway and what to expect on the other side.”

“Why do you need us?” Hana Mineko asked. Her black hair had been piled on top of her head in a pleasing twist of curls. She fiddled with a curl hanging by her ear, pulling it straight and releasing it. The hair sprang back each time.

“When Gateway is open, it will alert all the systems in Inside, and we need you to cover the alert so the Controllers and the Travas don’t know. Once we know exactly what to expect on the other side of Gateway, then we can plan how to use it.”

“Why don’t you know what’s in the rest of the files?” Takia asked.

“They’re protected by passwords. We haven’t figured out the rest of them yet.” A rumble of alarm rolled through the uppers. “We have the password clues, and I hoped as a group we could deduce the answers.”

“Let me get this straight,” Jacob said. “Provided you open the files, we then have to hide your activity from the Trava family while you open Gateway.” He looked around. “You’re going to need to recruit more uppers.”

“We have two scrubs willing to ghost through the network and aid in hiding data. And don’t forget Domotor.” As long as he listened to Logan’s instructions.

Breana Narelle pulled her shirt down over her pregnant belly. “Four people were recycled last time because Domotor was caught. This time we all know who’s involved. What if someone here is the person who ratted us out?”

“We know who spied for Karla and she hasn’t been invited back. Obviously you don’t say anything to anyone, but especially not to Kiana Garrard,” I said, proud I didn’t stutter over her name. It’s possible she hadn’t abandoned me, but she still caused much pain and suffering.

Most of the group nodded with understanding, but Jacob flashed the doctor a strange, pain-filled look, which she returned. I wondered if they both knew Kiana.

“Why should we risk our lives for the scrubs?” Breana asked. “They hate us and are jealous of us. They won’t do anything to help us. Why should we help them?”

I counted to ten before answering her, reminding myself she has been fed lies about the scrubs all her life. Then I explained to the group just how much the scrubs had done to get me here. The ghosting through the network, Cog’s sacrifice and Jacy’s risks as well as the amazing fact that not one scrub has yet to provide information to the Pop Cops despite the fantastic rewards offered by the LC.

“The Travas are our mutual enemy. They have lied to you and to the scrubs to keep us from joining together. Think about it. The scrubs outnumber the uppers ten to one. But you have control of the systems keeping us alive, and the Travas have control of us both. Teaming up takes the Travas out of the equation. We can return to the times when each family had an equal say.”

My speech worked and the uppers set about planning. They wanted to hear the password clues and I read them aloud. Two questions produced answers right away. Six left. I repeated the first question and everyone brainstormed.

During an unusual lull in the conversation, LC Karla spoke from my pocket. Terrified faces turned to me and I hurried to explain about the listening device and Riley’s receiver. I retreated to my room to hear the conversation better.

“…another busted scanner? That’s three this shift. Something’s going on,” the LC said. Her voice strained with frustration.

“It can’t be sabotage. No scrub was allowed near them. They were guarded the entire time by my men,” a man said. His voice sounded familiar.

“Eyes on the devices? Or an ensign stationed outside the supply cabinet?”

“Why would it matter?”

“The scrubs are using the air shafts to get around, you idiot!”

“Lieutenant Commander, no one is in the shafts. The RATSS have found no evidence.”

“I saw her with my own eyes, Commander.” Karla’s tone was even, but each word had a little kick to it as if she bit back her anger.

She was talking to Vinco, the knife-wielding bastard.

“I believe you. But she’s not there now. She’s hiding with this Broken Guy. We need to entice her out,” Vinco said.

“I’ve tried. I promised to not recycle her friend if she turned herself in. It didn’t work.”

“Perhaps we need to find someone she cares for more,” Vinco said.

“She has no other friends. The general opinion is she’s a loner and detests being among the scrubs. Not that I blame her.”

“She might think you’re bluffing about her friend. Schedule him for execution. Parade him down through the lower levels on his way to Chomper’s Lair, take him inside and kill-zap him if she doesn’t give herself up.”

“And if she does?”

“Contact me and I start the interrogations.” I shuddered at the delight in his voice.

“Then what should I do about her friend?”

“Keep him alive. He’s fun to play with.”

“What time should I schedule him?”

“Before the hundred-hour assembly.”

“All right. Go spread the word, Commander.”

The sound of a shutting door echoed through Riley’s metal box. I stared at the clock. Hour sixty-two. Thirty-eight hours to turn myself in. Yet another countdown. I felt as if I had already grieved for Cog, either that or I felt more confident of our success.

I rejoined the others. They had answered another two questions. Four left.

“What’s the one about turning something in?” Takia asked me.

“Oh. It’s number six. It’s What do you turn to get the outside in?”

A discussion ensued, producing the same answers I had. Riley sat in the midst of them, adding his own arguments to the debate. But Doctor Lamont kept her place along the wall. Her pale face appeared strained. I walked over to her.

“Do you feel all right?” I asked.

She gave me a wan smile. “Isn’t that my line?”

“When you look as white as the lady sleeping in the infirmary, it’s a valid question.”

“Just tired.” She pushed away from the wall. “I better check on her and make sure there’s no internal bleeding.” Doctor Lamont hurried from the room.

That’s all the poor woman needed, I thought. She had lost so much blood; I hoped she wasn’t bleeding on the inside.

Daylights flooded my mind. Of course, how stupid! I punched the wall. Everyone quieted and stared at me.

“I know the answer to number six!” I cried.

“Don’t keep us in suspense,” Riley said.

“Inside out! You turn the inside out to get the outside in.”

The group worked another hour, then each left at different times. We had answers, or what we thought were the correct answers to six out of eight questions. Not bad. I turned on my button microphone and hoped someone was listening like Jacy had promised. I sent a message, asking Jacy to bring Logan to Domotor’s hideout at hour eighty-one. His hidden room would be the best to access the network without interruption and without Pop Cops looking over his shoulder. I toggled off the microphone.

Riley returned to his workstation and Doctor Lamont rested in her room. Exhaustion pulled at me, but the doctor had asked me to watch over her patients while she slept.

They all appeared to be asleep, and I wasn’t sure I would even know if they were in trouble. Watching them sure beat scrubbing air ducts. At one point the woman moaned and I rushed over. Lamont had left a few pain pills by the patient’s bedside in case she needed more.

“Are you in pain?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said. Her voice was thin and weak.

“The doctor has pills.” I moved to get her a glass of water, but the woman grabbed my arm.

“A pill can’t ease this kind of pain. Can you sit and talk to me?”

“Sure.” I pulled a chair beside her bed. We sat in uncomfortable silence for a while.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Ella.”

A half smile played on her white lips. “That’s it? No family names?”

“Oh. Ella Garrard Sanchia.”

“Still no mate, then?”

“No. I’m Doctor Lamont’s intern.” I pulled on my sleeves, reminding myself to tread carefully and watch what I said.

“Did you…Did you see her?”

Only one possible “her.” The baby. “Yes. She is beautiful.”

“Really?” The woman bit her lip.

Instinct took over my voice box. “She has long dark eyelashes and already a full head of hair. Her face was a perfect oval, her chin came to a little point with a dimple. Skin so smooth and as soft as the underside of a sheep’s ear.” My surprise matched the woman’s. I’d held the baby for minutes, yet I could form a lifelike picture of her in my mind’s eye.

Unfortunately, my description caused the woman more pain. Tears flowed and her chest heaved in quiet sobs. Feeling terrible, I tried to ease her anguish. “Don’t worry so much. She will be loved in the lower levels. The care facility is broken into units of ten children per Care Mother. The Mothers love all the children and she will grow up with care mates, who will look after her. I’m sure one of the older boys will become very protective, and she will fuss about his attention but be his staunchest supporter.”

The woman stared at me as if I had sprouted wings. I didn’t know what caused me to say so much. At least I didn’t lie to her. Care mates could be very protective.

Instead of questioning me on how I knew so much, the upper sighed in relief. “What do you think they’ll name her?”

“Hmm…She’ll need a pretty name, but not too girly as I think she’ll be a bit of a tomboy.”

“Gillie? I always liked the name.”

“A good choice.”

We discussed Gillie’s life, her toddler years, her schooling and her career.

“I think she might gravitate to working in the care facility. As a helper to start and then as a Care Mother,” I said.

By this time, the upper’s tears had dried. She smiled proudly. “Yes, I’m sure she will love the little ones and have enough patience for the active three-hundred-week-olds.”

“And the nice man who works in recycling, you know, the one who made her those metal flowers?”

“Do you think he wants to be her mate?” she asked.

“There’s not much time or material to make those petals for just anyone. He’s interested.”

We talked through Gillie’s life from start to finish, including all her accomplishments and major life events. The woman fell asleep with a dreamy half smile still on her lips.

I remained by her bedside. Cog would be amused by my efforts to comfort an upper. No. Not amused. Proud. I liked Ella. She was a good sort, much nicer than Trella, and I hoped she managed to survive the next thirty hours.

Doctor Lamont woke me. I had been dozing in the chair. “Sorry,” I said.

“No, I’m sorry. You had a hellish twenty hours and I left you to watch my patients.”

“You need to sleep, too.” Memories of the emergency replayed in my mind. “I don’t know how you could be so rational with all the blood gushing, and being able to cut through her stomach.…” My own stomach rolled and I had to put my head in my hands to stop the swirl of dots in front of my eyes.

“But you were fine during the crisis. I’ve had to step over interns who had passed out during surgery.”

“Like I said, I didn’t think about it.”

Lamont pressed her fingers to the woman’s wrist, checking her pulse. “Poor Doreen. She’s in for a rough time. Losing a child…”

She stared at the wall, but her gaze peered into another world. “The loss lingers inside you, clinging like beads of moisture until rust forms and spreads. Eventually, the structure can’t hold the weight and it collapses.”

Her description had to come from experience. Not knowing what to say, I again let instinct guide my words. “I hope she finds another way to support the weight and keep the rust at bay. It would be a pity for her to live her life as an empty shell, when she has a mate and another child to care for.”

The doctor snapped out of her reverie. “It would be, but words are easy. It’s convincing the heart that’s hard. Get some sleep, Ella.”

I did as the doctor ordered and slept for the next eight hours. Feeling almost normal, I ate a large portion of a three-bean casserole Lamont had cooked. She had access to the same ingredients as the lower levels, but her concoctions tasted better.

After enduring a lecture to be careful, I climbed into the air shafts above level three. The tight duct was at once comforting and oppressive. An unfamiliar moment of panic washed over me. I ignored the flood of doubts and fears that soaked me. It was just like being in the surgery, if I stopped to think too much about what we planned to do, I would be unconscious.

The trip to Logan’s barrack lasted twice as long as normal. My movements were slow and my muscles protested being used after such a long time. I paused every few minutes to listen and search for RATSS. The mechanical clicking of their metal rollers echoed through the vents and I managed to dodge two devices.

Logan waited for me by the heating vent near his bunk.

“What about your Pop Cop?” I asked.

“He thinks I’m sleeping.” Logan grunted as he squeezed into the vent.

I led him to Domotor’s room. It had been over a hundred hours since I’d been there and I hoped he was well.

Slumped on the couch, Domotor’s drawn face relaxed a bit when he saw me sliding from the vent after Logan.

“Where have you been? What’s going on? I’m a wreck, jumping at every noise.”

Dark smudges under his eyes stood out in contrast to his pale face. His uncombed hair hung in greasy clumps. An overripe smell emanated from his body.

He noticed my expression. “I didn’t want to be caught in the shower. I do have my dignity.”

“Not to worry,” Logan said. “I covered your computer trail just in time.” He aimed for the computer and pulled a chair close to the keyboard. “Trella, what are the passwords?”

For a moment, I felt as if he talked to another person and I didn’t respond.

“Passwords?”

As if waking from a dream, I cleared my head and repeated the ones we had figured out. “We still have three unanswered, but at least we’ll get some information.”

“What about the teeth one?” Logan asked.

“Forty-one.”

“I’ll plug in the others first and see what happens.”

Domotor struggled into his chair and wheeled it over to watch Logan. The images and numbers on the screen meant nothing to me. Trusting Logan would extract the needed data, I checked Domotor’s food supplies. Low. He would need more and soon. With so many RATSS I doubted the kitchen scrubs would risk discovery by filling the air shaft again.

Perhaps I could raid the pantry when everyone attended the hundred-hour assembly. But I remembered I would either be in LC Karla’s custody by then or perhaps I would be Outside. The strange thought of being somewhere else kept slipping away. With nothing to compare to, I couldn’t even imagine it. To me, Outside resembled Inside with no Pop Cops and with more space.

I planned to touch base with Riley, and coordinate the opening of Gateway during hour ninety-seven. But first, I needed to uncover it.

After cleaning Domotor’s washroom and bedroom as best as I could, I joined them. Huddled over the keyboard, Logan’s eyes were lit with a childlike glee and even Domotor seemed thrilled. They turned to me with identical grins.

“What?”

“We know,” Logan said.

“Outside. Look.” Domotor pointed to the screen.

My stomach boiled as I peered at the image. Green and blue jumped out, but I blinked and the details became clearer.

“It’s like hydroponics,” Logan said. “But the plants are huge and the sheep’s special grass is all over the place. Look at the ceiling, it’s blue and goes on forever.”

“Does anyone live there?” I asked.

“I don’t quite know. The text states numbers and details for things like breathable air mixture, compatible food source, mineral deposits, drinkable ground water and something called wildlife. Which, as far as I could tell, are animals without any real intelligence.”

“In order to obtain the information, someone has been to Outside.” Even though thrilled with the news, I wondered how long ago the data was collected. Everything changed with time. “Can you find out when?”

“No. The information was pulled from various files and dumped together. A few sentences are incomplete, and the topic changes abruptly. Some of the files are damaged and I can only read about half of what’s in them.”

“It doesn’t matter when,” Domotor said, dismissing my concern. “Most likely it was before the Travas took control. Perhaps after the scouting mission, the Travas panicked, thinking they would lose power in such a big place. We know it’s safe to go to Outside.”

“And we know the code to open Gateway.” Logan typed at the keyboard and numbers marched across the computer screen.

I committed the code to memory.

“Something else…” He pointed. “Colored buttons. Green to open. Red to close. Any ideas?”

“To get back to Inside,” Domotor said. “There would have to be controls on Outside. Proof that no people live there or they would have opened the door by now.”

He had a point.

Finally, Logan announced he had no more useful info. “Wish we had those last three passwords.”

“What about the file with my birth week on it?” I asked.

Domotor glanced at me in surprise. “There’s a file with your birth week on it?”

“And the hour of her birth. I forgot about that one.” Logan’s fingers flew and he hummed to himself. A white screen flashed and he paused for a second. “Uh…Trell, you’d better read this. It’s from your mother.”

I backed away. “She couldn’t have…No way to know I would be involved…A trap?”

Domotor leaned closer to the screen. “No. She admits the chances of you finding this letter is little to none.” He continued to read. “It’s similar to a diary entry. Written more for herself than you, explaining what had happened. Interesting…A confession. Why didn’t you tell me Kiana was the spy?”

I plopped on the couch. “A lot has happened since I last saw you.”

“Do you want to know her reasons for—”

“No. Four people were recycled because of her. I’ve no desire to hear her pathetic excuses.”

He frowned at me. “Someday you’ll want to know.”

“Then I will ask you. It’s not important right now—she isn’t one of the uppers who have agreed to help us.”

Domotor brightened when he heard this, and I explained what I had been doing in the upper levels, but I didn’t tell him Doctor Lamont’s name or Riley’s cousin. He knew of the others, but those two were new. Despite my conviction that Kiana was responsible for my father and Riley’s mother’s fates because she had spied for the Travas, Domotor had been the one to name them.

“Excellent news,” he said when I finished updating him. “Just imagine, we’ll open Gateway and usher out all the scrubs and uppers who want to go, leaving behind the Travas with no one to rule.”

I laughed at the humorous picture.

After I escorted Logan back to his barrack, I borrowed a few supplies from maintenance, filled my tool belt and headed to the Gap. With visions of blue ceilings and grass rugs filling my mind, I didn’t stop until I reached the outer wall near Quad G1—Gateway’s location.

I removed my new flashlight and shone it on the insulation. The thick yellow foam rippled on the wall, and I couldn’t see any marks indicating a doorway underneath. Starting at the southwest corner, I sprayed water from the floor to level two’s support beams and worked my way to the left. Made from vegetable starch, the biodegradable foam dissolved and dripped. It didn’t take long to realize two bottles of water wouldn’t be enough. One meter thick foam had been sprayed onto the wall.

When the bottles were empty, I pulled the insulation off. The bottom layers were brittle and easy to break apart with my new screwdriver. Logan had said Gateway would be between three to four meters from the corner. I planned to clear at least five meters.

The air around me cooled as I worked. My breath made clouds, but the cold felt good against my sweaty skin. Foam piled on the ground, and I reveled in the effort.

Bits of foam clung to my student’s uniform and hair. I stopped well past four meters. Panting in the icy air, I grabbed my light. The beam lit specks of floating insulation. My attention focused on the exposed wall as I swept the light across the surface.

Its appearance matched the interior walls—metal panels riveted together with support beams. No obvious doorway. I searched for a near-invisible hatch.

Nothing.

I drew in a deep breath. Once again, I scanned the wall, but this time I started from the corner and concentrated on each section in a systematic way.

Nothing.

Emotions soured, but I ignored them. We had coordinates and codes and pictures. I ripped another meter of insulation from the wall.

Nothing.

We had uppers willing to risk their lives and knew which colored buttons to use to return to Inside. Another meter piled on the floor. I choked on the dust, but pulled off another half meter convinced it would be here. It had to be. Otherwise, I would have made the worst mistake of my entire life. Believing before seeing. Another meter landed on the pile.

Nothing.

I lost track of how long I worked or of how many meters of wall I exposed or of how many times I scanned the wall. My body transformed into a machine with one task: find Gateway.

Eventually the fuel was depleted and the machine broke down. It was unable to complete its task. There was nothing to find.