Outside In
Page 51
“What happened then?”
“The panel must have been rigged to blow when they reached a certain point.”
“Rigged by who? Did you see anyone else work on the machine?”
“No. The booby trap was in place before you installed the Video Camera.”
Booby trapped prior to the explosion? It didn’t make any sense. Everyone wanted the Transmission fixed. I pointed at Logan’s screen. “That first explosion set off a bunch of others.”
“Overkill, for sure. One was enough to obliterate the controls. Can you place another Video Camera in there for me? I’d like to see the extent of the damage.”
“A mangled mess, according to Bubba Boom.”
Logan sniffed. “I’d still like to see it for myself.”
“Okay.”
He gave me another Video Camera and a list of supplies. I climbed into the air shafts and crossed to the power plant. The Transmission was located in the southeast corner and the damage to the floor and walls from the first explosion hadn’t been repaired yet.
Finding an intact shaft was difficult, but I switched to the heating ducts, and managed to circumvent the open areas. As I drew closer, the sound of an argument reached me. Strained, worried and upset voices shouted at each other. I doubted anyone heard the replies if there were any.
I peeked through the vent. Most of the Committee members gathered around a hole in the middle of a control panel. The metal had been peeled back as if a giant fist had punched through the panel. Black scorch marks streaked along the sides and water dripped from everything. At least the sprinkler system had doused the fire. Unlike the fabric in the air filters, there wasn’t much here to burn. It looked bad, but not quite the mangled mess of Bubba Boom’s description.
Hank and a few of his crew stood together, enduring the ire of the Committee members. I waited until they left and placed the Video Camera just below the vent.
I returned to the infirmary and helped Lamont change bandages and feed patients. The follow-up care wasn’t as interesting to me as the initial treatment. Surgery fascinated me, but I’d be happy to let someone else take charge of a patient’s recovery. All part of my impatience. Another aspect of my personality that led me into trouble.
A few hours into my shift, Domotor wheeled himself into the infirmary. Three shades past pale, his haggard expression regarded me with desperation. I yelled for Lamont and ran to him, asking him to list his symptoms, checking his pulse.
He gave me a weak smile. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Well…I’m physically as fine as possible considering the broken back.”
Lamont arrived with her scanner. “What hurts?”
“My ego. Apparently, I don’t look well.”
She paused. “That’s putting it mildly.”
“Nothing a good meal and ten hours of sleep won’t cure, Kiana,” he said.
I winced at the use of her first name. It had been so long since I heard it. To me, that name equaled pain. They pretended not to notice.
“Are you here for a checkup then?” she asked.
“No. I need to talk to Trella. Do you have a few minutes?”
I glanced at Lamont. She nodded and returned to work, giving us some privacy.
“Here?” I asked.
“If you’d be so kind as to wheel me over to the dining room, we can talk there.”
Interesting how no one wanted to talk in the infirmary. I wondered if someone had planted a microphone here. Perhaps it was due to the patients. Lying around with nothing to do, they would enjoy eavesdropping on our conversation.
Domotor remained quiet as I pushed him to Quad G3, helped him fill his tray and found an empty table far away from those who eyed us with curiosity. Blake wiped off tables, ignoring us, but I had the strange feeling he’d been keeping track of the people who shared my table. I wondered if Riley had asked his brother to keep an eye on me. I hadn’t seen Riley since our conversation in Logan’s room.
While I pushed my food around my plate, Domotor at tacked his food as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks.
“If you need a break from Committee business, I know a little place in Quad C1 where no one would bother you,” I said. “You’d probably eat more often, too.”
He laughed. “Tempting, except for the black dust and roar of the power plant.”
Domotor finished his meal. He wiped his mouth with a napkin, but kept the cloth clutched in his hand. A little color had returned to his face. No spark lit his blue eyes. Even during the worst moments of the rebellion, he’d never looked this bad.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Everything. But first tell me how you bypassed the tracer in your arm.”
Was he guessing? Or did he know? I kept my expression neutral. “I didn’t bypass the tracer.” The truth.
“You can tell me. I’m no longer on the Committee.”
A sinking feeling of unease stroked my stomach. “Why not?”
“There is no longer a Committee. The Controllers have taken over Inside.”
“But the computer—”
“They have the network and all system controls. Except the Transmission’s.”
“All systems?” Fear swirled and I fought to keep from grabbing the chair’s arms in panic.
“Yes. If they decide to cut off our air, we’re dead.”
“Did they release Karla and Vinco?” Funny how I was more terrified of those two than the threat of suffocation.
“The panel must have been rigged to blow when they reached a certain point.”
“Rigged by who? Did you see anyone else work on the machine?”
“No. The booby trap was in place before you installed the Video Camera.”
Booby trapped prior to the explosion? It didn’t make any sense. Everyone wanted the Transmission fixed. I pointed at Logan’s screen. “That first explosion set off a bunch of others.”
“Overkill, for sure. One was enough to obliterate the controls. Can you place another Video Camera in there for me? I’d like to see the extent of the damage.”
“A mangled mess, according to Bubba Boom.”
Logan sniffed. “I’d still like to see it for myself.”
“Okay.”
He gave me another Video Camera and a list of supplies. I climbed into the air shafts and crossed to the power plant. The Transmission was located in the southeast corner and the damage to the floor and walls from the first explosion hadn’t been repaired yet.
Finding an intact shaft was difficult, but I switched to the heating ducts, and managed to circumvent the open areas. As I drew closer, the sound of an argument reached me. Strained, worried and upset voices shouted at each other. I doubted anyone heard the replies if there were any.
I peeked through the vent. Most of the Committee members gathered around a hole in the middle of a control panel. The metal had been peeled back as if a giant fist had punched through the panel. Black scorch marks streaked along the sides and water dripped from everything. At least the sprinkler system had doused the fire. Unlike the fabric in the air filters, there wasn’t much here to burn. It looked bad, but not quite the mangled mess of Bubba Boom’s description.
Hank and a few of his crew stood together, enduring the ire of the Committee members. I waited until they left and placed the Video Camera just below the vent.
I returned to the infirmary and helped Lamont change bandages and feed patients. The follow-up care wasn’t as interesting to me as the initial treatment. Surgery fascinated me, but I’d be happy to let someone else take charge of a patient’s recovery. All part of my impatience. Another aspect of my personality that led me into trouble.
A few hours into my shift, Domotor wheeled himself into the infirmary. Three shades past pale, his haggard expression regarded me with desperation. I yelled for Lamont and ran to him, asking him to list his symptoms, checking his pulse.
He gave me a weak smile. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Well…I’m physically as fine as possible considering the broken back.”
Lamont arrived with her scanner. “What hurts?”
“My ego. Apparently, I don’t look well.”
She paused. “That’s putting it mildly.”
“Nothing a good meal and ten hours of sleep won’t cure, Kiana,” he said.
I winced at the use of her first name. It had been so long since I heard it. To me, that name equaled pain. They pretended not to notice.
“Are you here for a checkup then?” she asked.
“No. I need to talk to Trella. Do you have a few minutes?”
I glanced at Lamont. She nodded and returned to work, giving us some privacy.
“Here?” I asked.
“If you’d be so kind as to wheel me over to the dining room, we can talk there.”
Interesting how no one wanted to talk in the infirmary. I wondered if someone had planted a microphone here. Perhaps it was due to the patients. Lying around with nothing to do, they would enjoy eavesdropping on our conversation.
Domotor remained quiet as I pushed him to Quad G3, helped him fill his tray and found an empty table far away from those who eyed us with curiosity. Blake wiped off tables, ignoring us, but I had the strange feeling he’d been keeping track of the people who shared my table. I wondered if Riley had asked his brother to keep an eye on me. I hadn’t seen Riley since our conversation in Logan’s room.
While I pushed my food around my plate, Domotor at tacked his food as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks.
“If you need a break from Committee business, I know a little place in Quad C1 where no one would bother you,” I said. “You’d probably eat more often, too.”
He laughed. “Tempting, except for the black dust and roar of the power plant.”
Domotor finished his meal. He wiped his mouth with a napkin, but kept the cloth clutched in his hand. A little color had returned to his face. No spark lit his blue eyes. Even during the worst moments of the rebellion, he’d never looked this bad.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Everything. But first tell me how you bypassed the tracer in your arm.”
Was he guessing? Or did he know? I kept my expression neutral. “I didn’t bypass the tracer.” The truth.
“You can tell me. I’m no longer on the Committee.”
A sinking feeling of unease stroked my stomach. “Why not?”
“There is no longer a Committee. The Controllers have taken over Inside.”
“But the computer—”
“They have the network and all system controls. Except the Transmission’s.”
“All systems?” Fear swirled and I fought to keep from grabbing the chair’s arms in panic.
“Yes. If they decide to cut off our air, we’re dead.”
“Did they release Karla and Vinco?” Funny how I was more terrified of those two than the threat of suffocation.
