Inside Out by Maria V. Snyder Page B

registered. “What about the lock?”
    Logan flashed me a bright smile. He pulled a narrow timer from his pocket and handed it to me. “I thought you would need this. Place it below the keypad and press the button. Instead of the time, the display will show the code for the lock in about three to four seconds.”
    I marveled at the device. “How?”
    “Do you really want to know?” Anne-Jade asked.
    “No. This is wonderful.”
    “Anything else?”
    I hesitated. Broken Man had said it was impossible, but, with these two, impossible could be possible. “Do you have a device to access the uppers’ computer network?”
    Anne-Jade and Logan exchanged a glance. Once again, she scanned the room before asking, “Like a port?”
    I nodded.
    Another significant look flashed between them. “That’s the ultimate goal of a Tech No,” Logan said. “I managed to hack into the uppers’ computer system about as far as I cango without one. All I need is a port to open the door, then I would own the system. Own it!”
    “Has anyone achieved that goal?” I asked, wondering just how many Tech Nos there were.
    “No, but…” He sought Anne-Jade’s permission. She waved him on, despite the strain lined on her face.
    Logan stepped close to me. “But, we’re almost there.”
    “How soon?”
    “Twenty weeks, maybe more.”
    Too late to help me. “Any chance you could speed it up?”
    Anne-Jade turned on me. “No. Crafting these devices takes an immense effort. And it’s just us. You’re looking at the entire Tech Nos. The Pop Cops have decimated our group, and the only reason we’re still alive is because we move slow and proceed with the utmost care. So far, we have out-smarted the uppers.” Twin circles of red spread on her cheeks.
    “We know we’ll be found out eventually,” Logan added. His tone remained flat as if he discussed a routine event. “We just want to impart the maximum damage before we’re fed to Chomper.”
     
    With Zippy leading the way, I crawled through the air shaft on level four. The trip here felt routine. Bad sign. Before Broken Man, I had limited my trips into the upper levels to once every five or ten weeks. Now I popped up here every off-shift.
    I turned Zippy off as we neared Riley’s room. No sense alerting him to our presence even if hour fifty-eight was only minutes away. Peering through the vent, I searched for Pop Cops.
    Riley sat on the edge of the couch. After a moment hestood, glanced at the clock, smoothed his shirt and adjusted his headset. Nervous or bored, I couldn’t tell for sure. The Pop Cops could be waiting in the corridor for Riley’s signal. And why would he be wearing his headset?
    Now or never. I reached the vent above the couch and removed the cover. Riley jumped at the sound. I suppressed a grimace. He was nervous. Because of a trap or because of me? At least he wasn’t armed.
    I dropped Zippy onto the couch and climbed down the ladder. Keeping my feet on the lowest rung, I prepared to bolt at any sign of trouble.
    “I thought you wouldn’t come,” Riley said.
    He appeared older. No longer in training, he wore a plain gray shirt and black pants. Fresh scratches marred his cheek and neck, and his left sleeve was torn and bloody.
    “What happened?” I asked, gesturing to his arm.
    A wry smile twisted his lips. “Extra duty with Commander Vinco. The commander delights in knife fighting and uses his unarmed helpers for target practice.”
    I couldn’t resist. “Unarmed?”
    Impishness lit his face. “So far, I’ve managed to survive the duty, much to his annoyance.” He rubbed his shoulder as the humor faded from his expression. “But he’s getting creative, which is not the reason you’re here.” He stared at me for a moment.
    Warmth flushed through me. I imagined I was quite the sight. Wisps of brown hair had sprung from my braid long ago and clung to my sweaty face. Stains and tears marked my one-piece cleaning uniform, which felt rather tight all