“I told you I don’t—”
“I don’t need names. How about locations?”
“Locations of what?”
“If you could have eyes and ears in the lower levels again, where would you want them?”
His expression smoothed as he caught on. “Sector F1, waste handling and maintenance.”
I waved the bag of mics. “Why not ask me to install these there?”
“Because the scrubs didn’t know about the Transmission, and they don’t necessarily know Logan’s the brains of our operation, so I think they’re just following orders. Besides, I have a limited number of mics.”
“Well, it may be a week or more before I can install these,” I said. “It depends on Lamont and how much help the air plant workers need.”
“Let me know when they’re in place.” He stood, but paused. “I also suspect the explosion in the power plant and the fire in the air plant were done by two separate groups.”
Double the trouble. Wonderful. “Why?”
He spread his hands out. “A gut feeling. Before the rebellion, I’ve dealt with many scrubs that broke the laws, and they get comfortable with one method or one type of defiance and rarely move beyond that. A bomb and a fire are two different methods.”
“But the results were the same.”
He studied me a moment. “No they weren’t. Think about it.”
Jacy had given me plenty of information to mull over. The explosion had targeted the Transmission, which only a limited number of people knew about. It affected our travel through Outer Space and killed many. To me, the sabotage screamed a message that someone wasn’t happy about our situation and wanted to be noticed. I wondered why they hadn’t made any demands yet, or announced the reason they damaged our world. Perhaps the Travas engineered the explosion and didn’t want the Committee to know they still had connections with…who? Uppers or scrubs? It didn’t matter.
The fire had targeted Logan. Most Insiders knew he was a member of the Force of Sheep, but only a few were aware of his brilliance with the computer network. No one was killed, and I wondered about the timing of the fire. The attack on him felt more intelligent and part of a greater plan. Unfortunately, I couldn’t fathom why anyone besides the Travas would desire the problems that would be caused by Logan’s inability to access the network.
Even though I failed to solve anything, I understood the logic behind Jacy’s two-group theory. I played with the cloth bag of microphones, turning it over and over, and listened to them clink together. Jacy had been quick to mention those three areas when I had asked him where he’d like eyes and ears. Two of them made sense. Scrubs filled Sector F1, and the waste handling workers had the worst jobs. They would desire change. But maintenance didn’t fit with the others.
Why not? Jacy had mentioned maintenance before. I searched my memory and remembered his comment about how maintenance and security were the only systems working. Busy and productive had been his words. Which was opposite to the two things that led to trouble—bored and destructive.
I changed tactics. Chasing the reason those two systems kept working despite all the chaos, I found the answer. Anne-Jade and Hank. They led their people, and they weren’t on the Committee but reported to them. And then I considered “their people.” A mix of uppers and lowers. Riley and a bunch of his cousins helped Hank all the time. Anne-Jade had recruited from both as well.
What did all this mean? Perhaps one of the uppers working in maintenance wished to cause trouble. And one of Jacy’s ducts crossed over Anne-Jade’s office. He could suspect the uppers working in those two areas—that would be one group. The waste handling scrubs and those living in Sector F1 could be the other.
But which one was which?
My restless agitation inflamed all my burns. Before I helped myself to a pain pill, I visited Logan again. He no longer needed a mask—a good sign. I said his name in a soft voice in case he slept.
“Done with all your visitors?” he asked.
“I only had two.”
“Two more than me,” he grumped.
“You had lots of visitors, but they were all quiet.”
“Oh real funny. Tease the blind man.” But a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“Any better?”
“I’ve gone from seeing nothing but white to seeing large black spots on white. Doctor Lamont’s pleased voice indicated this is a step in the right direction.”
“Good. At least your hearing has improved. Did you hear what my visitors said?”
“Most of it. Except for Jacy’s last bit. What jingled and what does he want you to do?”
I told him.
He whistled. “Cheeky of him. He’d be privy to more than he should. Are you going to plant them?”
“I promised to in exchange for information, but didn’t agree to where I put them. It just doesn’t feel right. We shouldn’t have to spy on our own people.”
“True, but I think bugging the Trava apartments and brig is a good idea,” he said. “Before you plant them, ask Riley to get the frequencies from them. We might as well listen in, too.”
“Should we tell Anne-Jade?”
“Not yet.”
“Is that wise?”
“Probably not, but I’ll blame the pain medicine and say it clouded my thoughts if she finds out.”
“Good luck with that, I’ve seen her mad and it’s not fun.” Her new profession suited her. As soon as she had donned that stolen Pop Cop uniform, she’d fit right in. Then I remembered. “Logan, do you have any mics not being used?”