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 movement. “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—”
“Impossible.”
“Which one?”
“Damaging one of the Walls. We measured them, they’re two meters thick.”
“How?”
“Cogon’s Gateway. That inner room between the doors is as wide as a Wall.”
Interesting and good to know. “My other points are still valid. There might be another explosion.”
“And I still wouldn’t squeal on a fellow scrub.”
“You do know the Pop Cops are no longer in charge, right?” I didn’t wait for his answer. “The worst thing we’d do is incarcerate the saboteur. He wouldn’t be fed to Chomper. And he wouldn’t be tortured into submission either.”
A stubborn tightness hardened his gaze.
I couldn’t say when I decided he wasn’t guilty; it was an internal instinct. “You think I’m an upper.”
A slight confused nod.
“My clothes and eye color gave me away.”
“Yes.”
“Do you think being called an upper is better or worse than my old nickname of Queen of the Pipes?” I asked him.
He stared at me.
“I like Queen of the Pipes better. It doesn’t have any prejudices or wrong assumptions associated with it. And the best thing, the Pop Cops didn’t give me that name. I earned it. Just like these …” I pulled up the bottom of my shirt, and showed Bubba Boom the line of round scars that followed the edge of my ribcage where Commander Vinco had gouged out my skin. “And if I knew the bastard who was blowing holes in our home, he wouldn’t need to worry about Chomper. Oh no. He’d need the ISF to protect him from me.”
Bubba Boom’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Or she would need protection. Even the Queen of the Pipes can make wrong assumptions.”
I smiled. “Never said I was perfect. And I’m not going to accuse an innocent.”
He held up a hand to stop me. “I didn’t get a chance to fully examine the blast site. Did you find any shrapnel that looked like it didn’t match any of the surrounding equipment?”
“Shrapnel as in pieces of the bomb?”
“Exactly.”
“Yes.”
He set his torch and mask down. “Okay, I’ll look at the site first, and then I’ll need to see