Outside In
Page 16

 Maria V. Snyder

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
“Yes.”
“I need you to plant more in another air duct.”
“Why?” I asked. “The Pop Cops are gone and you should know everything that’s being decided from the Committee meetings.”
“Let’s just say I like another opinion. Deal?”
“Yes, I’ll plant the mics for you.” But I didn’t say where I would.
“Good. I’ll get them to you soon.”
“And that expert?”
Jacy grinned. “His name is Bubba Boom and he works for maintenance.”
“You got to be kidding me.”
“Nope. He probably had a real name when he was born, but his care mates gave him that nickname at a young age. Bubba Boom can set fire to anything, and he loved setting off little explosions. Drove his Care Mother crazy, burning up various things in the care facility. He was the youngest scrub to be a member of the fire response team since he’s equally adept at extinguishing fires.”
He sounded familiar. “Is he the guy who rigged that container of casserole to explode?”
“Yep. He had to help the kitchen scrubs clean green goo from the walls and ceiling for a week.”
I remembered hearing about his pranks. My care mates used to delight in telling the stories, but I had never learned his name. By the time I graduated from the care facility, he had stopped his mischief. “Did working for the fire response team settle him down?”
“Nope. The Pop Cops took care of that.”
Understandable. Vinco could convert anyone after a couple sessions with his knife.
Hank worked on repairs to the pipes below the blasted section of the power plant between levels three and four. He shouted orders and the others rushed to follow them. A few faces weren’t familiar and I hoped that meant more of the lower level citizens had volunteered. My optimistic assumptions burst when I spotted a number of armed ISF officers nearby.
Anne-Jade didn’t waste time. She had mentioned using Travas for the repairs a mere twelve hours ago and here they were.
When Hank took a break, I asked him about Bubba Boom.
He chuckled. “I haven’t heard that name in a long time. We just call him Bubba and he’s up on level four welding the ruptured water tank.”
I thanked him and headed for the water storage tanks located in Sector B4. When I entered, the humid air reminded me of hydroponics except there was nothing living growing here—only rust. The spilled water had been cleaned, but not before some of it had dripped down to the infirmary.
The crackle and hiss of a torch sounded in the corner closest to the explosion. Sparks flew, pointing out Bubba even though he wore a metal shield over his face. He worked on a long crack along the seam of the metal tank. Wearing gray maintenance coveralls streaked with dirt and peppered with holes, his large frame reminded me of Cog.
Looking at the damage to the tanks, I wondered how Cogon would have reacted to the explosion. He would’ve been angry and upset and I would have had to force him to take breaks. He’d have every single person of Inside helping until the damage was repaired, and they would have been happy to do it for him.
Not for the first time, nor for the last, I thought it should have been me, not him that floated away into Outer Space.
I waited until Bubba finished before I cleared my throat, letting him know I was there. He pulled off the shield, revealing messy light brown hair that seemed to stand on end. Sweat trailed down the sides of his face and freckles sprinkled his cheeks and nose. Close to my age, I figured he couldn’t be more than a hundred weeks older than me.
“Need something?” Bubba Boom asked.
Going with the second opinion ruse, I asked him if he had a chance to see the point of the blast.
The edges of his mouth dipped as a guarded expression covered his face. “Everyone in maintenance has looked at it. I wondered when one of you would start asking about it.”
“One of us?”
“Committee upper.”
“I’m not…” Correcting him would be a waste of time. Since Lamont had changed my eye color back to its original blue, I had difficulties convincing people I had been raised in the lower levels like them. “Are all your colleagues wondering or just you?”
Again he masked his emotions. “Just me.”
“And you didn’t say anything to Hank?”
“No.”
I waited.
Wiping the sweat off his chin with his shoulder, he jabbed the torch in my direction. “I knew this would happen if I said anything.”
Just in case he decided to attack me with his torch’s white-hot flame, I planned which tool I would grab from my belt. Hopefully, my outward calm remained. “This?”
“Stop with the dumb act. You figured out a bomb set off the explosion, you talked to Jacy, and now I’m your primary suspect.”
Guess I needed to work on my investigative skills. Even though I wasn’t an expert in reading people, I noted the edge in his voice when he said Jacy’s name. “You would have looked less guilty if you reported your concerns to Hank.”
He shrugged, but there was nothing casual in the move ment. “Force of habit. I’ve learned to keep a low profile.” Bubba Boom absently rubbed his hand along the bottom of his rib cage.
“If you didn’t build that bomb, who did?”
I surprised a laugh from him. “I don’t know. And if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”
“Why not? You like welding up ruptured tanks? Sanding out rust spots and re-painting the walls? What if he sets off another one? What if someone you care for dies in the next blast? What if he blows a hole to Outside and—”