“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him.”
“What happened?”
“She started the riot in Sector F1,” Emek said.
I shot Emek a sour look as Riley rounded on me, demanding an explanation.
“We have more pressing problems,” I said, gesturing to Bubba Boom as he knelt next to the collector. “A bomb. Remember? I’ll tell you later.”
Since Bubba Boom was too large to fit underneath, he used a mirror to read the display. The counter read nine hundred seconds, which meant we had fifteen minutes.
Riley insisted everyone else leave, including me.
“I need Trella to stay,” Bubba Boom said. “She’s the only one who fits underneath.”
Riley closed his eyes for a moment. “Fine, then I’m staying too.” He shooed Emek and Rat out the door.
As Bubba Boom inspected the bomb with his mirror, I pulled Riley aside and whispered, “There’s no reason for you to stay.”
“You’ve been trying to get yourself killed since Cog’s death. At least this time, I won’t have to wait for news or wonder if you’ll survive your injuries. If this thing blows, we’ll both go.”
“I’m not trying to kill?—”
“I think I know how to disarm it,” Bubba Boom said.
“Think or know?” Riley asked.
“It’s a basic mixing design. The glass containers are filled with two stable chemicals. When the counter reaches zero, it removes the barrier between the liquids. They’ll pour into the bigger pipe and mix together, creating a highly explosive combination. The counter will then create a spark and good-bye half of waste handling.” Bubba Boom met my gaze. “As long as the bomber didn’t get cute with the wiring, it should be easy to disarm.” He handed me a pair of wire cutters.
Once again, I wriggled underneath the collector. Ten minutes left. My guts twisted and knotted with each second that disappeared.
“Pull the counter gently away from the pipes to expose the wires behind it,” Bubba Boom instructed.
My hands shook, but I eased the box out from where it was nestled between the glass containers. I moved the mirror so he could see.
“Interesting.”
“Good or bad?” Riley asked. I recognized the tight tension in his voice.
Bubba Boom ignored him. “Trella, I need to see where the second wire on the left ends.”
All the wires were covered in black. I pointed to my guess. “This one?”
“No. One over. That’s it,” he said when I touched the next wire.
Running a finger along it, I followed it until the end and repositioned the mirror. I rubbed my sweaty palms on my uniform.
“Well?” Riley asked.
“I’m thinking.”
“Eight minutes left,” I said.
“Not helping. Riley, I need a wipe board to draw out the circuit.”
“Emek’s office,” I called, remembering the neat stack of them on the corner of his desk.
The desire to scream at him to hurry lodged in my throat. His pounding feet faded then returned. Through the gap in the machinery, I watched Bubba Boom draw on the board. Riley peered over his shoulder. Dark gray sweat stains covered his gray shirt and strands of damp hair clung to the side of his face.
