Inside Out. Maria Snyder V.

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      I just shook my head.

      The corridor to Quad A1 teemed with scrubs and Pop Cops, hopefully delaying progress of the Pop Cop pushing the wheelchair. When I spotted an air vent, I climbed up the metal wall. Metal rivets on the walls were the perfect size for my toes and fingers. Once inside the air duct, I scurried through the horizontal tube, using my hands and feet while sliding on my belly.

      The hum of the lift set every nerve in my body afire. If they were in the elevator, I was too late. Occasionally, I slowed to peer through the air vents, trying to spot Broken Man.

      I grunted with frustration. A Pop Cop wheeled Broken Man into the open lift.

      3

      I HAD MERE SECONDS TO RESCUE BROKEN MAN.

      Good thing level one’s near-invisible hatch was next to the lift. I scrambled out of the air pipe and hunched my way over to the shaft. The elevator’s shaft was solid except for half-meter openings at each level’s Gap. If the lift passed level one’s, I would be too late.

      Reaching the opening, I glanced inside. The lift remained on level one, but the doors hissed closed. I squeezed through and landed on the lift’s roof. I held still, listening as something scraped against the doors before they shut.

      “Stop,” a voice ordered.

      The lift began its ascent. I clutched a cable to keep from falling. Huddled on top, I regained my balance. Risking notice, I pried up the roof hatch just enough to see inside.

      A meter below me, Broken Man slumped in his wheel-chair, while a Pop Cop stood with his stunner pointed at Cog. The big oaf must have squeezed into the elevator to rescue his prophet, and now he was caught.

      I altered my plan. Tracing wires, I found the electric feed into the elevator and fitted the white electrical wire between my rubber-handled pliers. I opened the emergency control panel on the roof, yelled, “Fire drill” and punched the stop button while cutting the wire. The lift jerked to a halt.

      The occupants of the elevator were now in total darkness. I hoped Cog knew what to do. My call had warned him. As I lifted the hatch, a soft thud, a loud grunt and the unmistakable sizzle slap of the stun gun reached me.

      “What’s going on?” Broken Man asked with a nervous tremor in his voice.

      I sucked in my breath, biting my lip.

      “We need to get out of here,” Cog replied.

      Relief washed over me as my clenched muscles relaxed. I pulled the hatch wide open. It squeaked.

      “Trella?” Cog asked.

      “Hold on. I’ll get a light.” I fumbled for the flashlight on my belt as Broken Man repeated my name in shock.

      I leaned through the open hatch, dangling upside down from my waist and held out my light. The Pop Cop lay on his side. His wide-eyed, lifeless gaze stared at nothing.

      Cogon gaped at the Pop Cop’s weapon in his own hand in horror. “This is a stun gun,” he cried. “Why would it kill him?”

      “What’s the setting?” I asked.

      Cog just looked at me. His eyebrows pinched together, and confusion shone in his eyes.

      “The intensity.” I tried again. “It’s on the side.”

      Cog turned the weapon over. “Ten.”

      “That’s why. It’s on the maximum setting. A ten blast could easily kill an average-sized man.” I still didn’t see understanding in Cog’s creased face. “You’re twice the Pop Cop’s size. I would have set the damn thing to ten, too, if I had to incapacitate you. Look, we don’t have time for this. We need to get Broken Man to a hiding place.”

      “Impossible,” Broken Man said. “Inside has no hiding place.” His face looked pale in the light.

      I smiled at Broken Man’s regurgitation of Pop Cop propaganda, then pulled myself back onto the roof. Using my rubber-handled pliers again, I fixed the broken wire, restored the lights and accessed the lift’s controls.

      “Push the button for level two,” I called.

      When we reached level two, I opened the back doors. A maintenance room was located adjacent to the elevator shaft.

      “Cog, wheel him out and take the Pop Cop, too.”

      Cogon finally realized how dangerous it was to delay. Galvanized into action, he cleared everyone from the elevator.

      “Leave them here, and get back on the lift,” I said through the roof’s hatch.

      “He can’t stay here. It’ll be the first place they’ll look,” Cog said.

      “I know, but he can’t travel through the corridors. We’ll have to camouflage him.”

      “How?” “Laundry bin.”

      Understanding smoothed Cog’s face. He delivered the laundry to the upper levels, so it wouldn’t look out of place if he was seen pushing a bin.

      With Cog as the sole occupant, I sent the lift back to level one, and again opened the back doors. This time the doors led to the laundry. Bins full of clean laundry filled the area by the lift. Cog grabbed one, waved to the working scrubs and pushed it into the elevator. I brought him back to level two.

      “Stand in the doorway,” I said. Returning the controls to the panel inside the lift, I swung down. “Help me put the hatch back on.” I sat on Cog’s broad shoulders and replaced the cover.

      We joined Broken Man in the maintenance room as the lift resumed its regular service. The bin was full of towels. We removed them and Cog lifted Broken Man into the bin.

      Before we covered him, he asked, “My wheelchair?”

      “It’s too big. We’ll have to leave it behind,” I said.

      “Now what?” Cog asked as he finished arranging the towels.

      “Take him down to Quad C1, but don’t use this lift.”

      “To the Power plant?” Cog asked.

      “Yes. I’ll meet you there.”

      “What about the Pop Cop?”

      “Leave him. Someone will find him.”

      “And the stun gun?” he asked.

      “Put it back in his belt. It’s too dangerous to keep.” The Pop Cops would be mad enough once they discover a fallen colleague, but it would be worse if they believed one of the scrubs was armed.

      Kneeling beside the prone form, Cog shoved the weapon into the Pop Cop’s holder, but he paused. He closed the man’s eyes and smoothed his limbs to a more comfortable position—not that the Pop Cop would care. Cog rested a large hand on the man’s shoulder, bowed his head and СКАЧАТЬ