“We’re going to be discovered anyway. Might as well go out with style,” Logan said.
She scowled as Logan pouted, but, by the tight set to Anne-Jade’s shoulders, I knew she wouldn’t change her mind. A Pop Cop sauntered by and we concentrated on our work.
Her reaction didn’t make sense. They had covered for Cog and told me about Zippy. Why was this different? I ran a tattered shirt through my fingers. The steady plink of buttons dropping into a bucket and clack of zippers kept time with my thoughts.
The answer was right in front of me in the movement of their hands. They worked as one, progressing through the pile of clothes without any signs of communication. Anne-Jade wasn’t afraid he would be recycled, but that he would be recycled without her. They were a matched set.
I used logic. “If he doesn’t help, Broken Man will go after the information anyway. He’ll be arrested and interrogated, which will lead the Pop Cops to me and I’ll lead them to you.” I suppressed a shudder. The pain would have to be horrible for me to rat on them.
“Are you threatening me?” Anne-Jade thrust her scissors in my direction.
“No. I’m just stating the facts. We’ve come too far to back off now. If Broken Man’s effort fails, then you and Logan will be recycled without causing any damage.”
Her arm dropped and she returned to cutting zippers. “When do you need him?”
“Right after assembly is over. Logan, meet me in the hallway outside the care facility.”
He flashed me a grin, but Anne-Jade kept her gaze on her work, ripping threads and seams with more force than needed. The sound of tearing cloth followed me as I left the plant.
I had a few more bits of unfinished business. Jacy’s listening device needed to be installed. The Pop Cops headquarters and holding cells were in Quadrant A4. Extra filters and special air scrubbers had been installed in the air ducts leading to that quadrant.
Remembering the gas hissing from the canisters in Domotor’s room, I guessed the extra precautions kept an enemy from sending airborne poisons through the air vents. I considered installing the device in the heating ducts, but it would be easier to find it.
Instead, I worked my way through air filters and wire security screens. I reached Karla’s office and placed the listening device near a vent.
I couldn’t resist making a side trip to the holding cells. Risky, yes, but there could be a way to rescue Cog, I rationalized. When the covers on the vents turned into solid bars, I knew I reached my destination. Slowing, I moved with care. Only a slight whisper of fabric sounded.
Harsh daylight streamed from below. Armed Pop Cops occupied the room. Desks and chairs with handcuffs littered the space, appearing to be a processing area for the inmates. Double doors festooned with locks comprised the back wall.
Further along the shaft the light changed into a muted yellow. The smells of sweat, blood and fear created an acidic stew. Taking shallow breaths, I peered into the dank cells. Black bars caged tiny areas only big enough for a bed and toilet. Although calling the metal slab a bed was being generous. Three cells lined each side of the room with a short corridor between them. Cog was the sole occupant.
His bulk filled the slab and his feet dangled off the end. In the sickly half-light the raw and bleeding bruises on his face resembled rotten meat. His eyes were swollen shut and his breath rattled. I rested my forehead on the duct for a moment, trying to see past the fog of horror and guilt clouding my vision. Pressure built inside my skull and chest as if I would explode. I fought to muffle my sobs.
My fault. Retrieving those disks had been a lark. I didn’t believe in Gateway, didn’t care about the prophet. One mistake, letting the cover slip through my fingers and Cog… I wanted to shy away from the vision, but I conjured up the image of Chomper crushing and pulping Cogon’s lifeless body, and imagined the sound of splintering bones and the wet smack ofbody fluids. I let the consequence of my actions burn into my mind.
No way to change the past, I could only hope to affect the future before I met the same fate. For Cogon and in Logan’s words, I would inflict the maximum damage.
“Cog?” I whispered. When he didn’t stir, I cupped my hands around my mouth and called louder. After the fourth try, he moved his head.
“Trella?” His voice rasped like a rusty hinge. “You caught?” He struggled to sit up with frantic haste.
“No. I’m in the air shaft above you.”
He relaxed, resuming his prone position. “Good, cause I can’t break those bars to the duct to help you escape. So don’t get caught.”
“How are you?—”
He waved his hands in a pushing motion. “No worries. Did you find Gateway yet?”
Despite being beaten his confident tone astounded me. I squashed the honest reply between my molars and hedged. “Not yet.”
“How soon?”
“Don’t know.”
“I hope I’m alive when it’s opened. Just to see the look on the lieutenant commander’s face.”
My jaw ached as the Chomper vision flashed. “Cog can I bring you anything?”
