room was empty when Bubba Boom and I entered. I showed him the pieces Logan found. He set everything out on a table, including the fragments he had gathered. Arranging and turning the bits, he scrutinized each one.
Logan arrived, but I hushed his questions. He stood next to me as we waited for Bubba to finish.
“This doesn’t look familiar,” Bubba said. He held the biggest chunk up to the light.
“Not one of yours?” Logan asked. His tone was almost nasty—very unusual for him.
“I stopped building these. You know that better than anyone,” Bubba said.
These two had a history. Wonderful.
“The Pop Cops aren’t around. You could have returned to your old ways.”
Bubba Boom huffed in exasperation. “You’re still mad at me? I never told the Pop Cops about you and your sister. That was more important than the fact I stopped helping you design your little gadgets.”
“Those gadgets—”
“Logan, that’s enough,” I said. “He agreed to assist us with finding the bomber.”
Giving me an odd look, Logan said, “How did you find out about him?”
“Jacy.”
Logan and Bubba exchanged a glance.
“What?” I demanded.
“A distraction?” Logan asked him.
“Could be.”
Fear sizzled up my spine. “Another bomb?”
“No,” Logan said. “More like keeping you busy and away from the real culprit.”
“Why would Jacy do that?” I asked.
“Don’t know,” Logan said. “He’s hard to read.”
“Anything that doesn’t have numbers scrolling across it is hard for you to read,” I teased.
“Real funny. At least I didn’t fall for Jacy’s disinformation.”
“Not quite,” Bubba Boom said.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“Just because I stopped playing with fire, doesn’t mean I ignore what’s going on around me.” He held up a twisted piece of metal. “I recognize this.”
5
“DO TELL,” LOGAN SAID. I swatted Logan on the arm. “Cut it out.” He acted like a two-hundred-week-old, and I wondered if he had looked up to Bubba Boom only to be disappointed when the man caved in to the Pop Cops.
“There’s a couple of scrubs,” Bubba said. “I wouldn’t call them Tech Nos as their devices are rudimentary, but they’ve gotten together and built a few incendiary apparatuses.”
“Could they be responsible for the damage in the power plant?” I asked.
“Possible. One of them works in the wastewater treatment plant, the other in hydroponics. As far as I know they’ve only set off a couple stink bombs. One time they cleared everyone out of Sector E2 due to the stench.” He smiled at the memory. “They also helped keep the Pop Cops occupied while you were busy rebelling.”
Which meant Jacy knew about them. “What are their names?”
Bubba Boom squinted at the warped metal in his hands. He turned it over and over. “What if they’re innocent?”
“Then we keep searching. We’re not like the Pop Cops,” I said.
“Really? Then why are there ISF goons patrolling the barracks all the time?” he asked.
“Because of the fights,” Anne-Jade said from the doorway. “They’re not working so they’re bored. Nine times out of ten boredom leads to trouble. We did our share of proving that theory didn’t we, Bubba?”
A wide grin spread on his face, matching Anne-Jade’s. “We sure did,” he said.
Logan’s displeasure deepened. “As much as I’m not enjoying this little reunion, we need the names of the two stink bombers.”
Bubba Boom met Anne-Jade’s gaze. “Promise me you won’t do anything rash? That you will be one hundred percent sure they’re guilty before you arrest them?”
“When have I ever done anything rash?” Anne-Jade asked.
He gestured to me. “When you risked everything helping her.”
“That wasn’t rash,” she corrected. “Risky, dangerous and suicidal, but not rash. We studied the situation carefully before offering our assistance.” She winked at me. “Stubborn scrub almost turned us down, but it worked in our favor.”
Bubba Boom tapped the metal piece against his leg as he considered. “All right. Kadar works in waste management, and Ivie is one of the gardeners in hydroponics.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Can you keep our … suspicions quiet for now? I don’t want people to panic.”
“Sure.” He hesitated and glanced at Anne-Jade before leaving the control room.
“He’s full of sheep’s manure,” Logan said. “A woman named Ivie who just happens to work in hydroponics. Come on, how dumb does he think we are?”
“At least he didn’t say Crapdar,” I said.
Logan laughed. “Close enough.”
Anne-Jade frowned. “I think he’s telling the truth.”
“You would,” he said.
“What’s that suppose to mean?”
Before they could launch into an argument, I asked Logan, “Can you look up those names in the population records, see if they do exist?”
“I don’t have the time, but you can do it. It’s easy,” he said.
I tried to object, but Anne-Jade said, “I need you first.”
Her tone didn’t give me a warm feeling. “For what?”
“None of the Travas will tell me who worked on the Transmission.”
Cold fingers gripped my stomach as I braced for the rest of her news.
“However, ex-Lieutenant Commander Karla Trava is willing to cooperate. But she’ll only negotiate with you.”
“Do I want to know why?”
“I think it’s obvious,” Anne-Jade said. When I failed to respond, she added, “Gloating over our problems for one, and just being difficult because she can. Plus she sees you as her ultimate enemy. If it wasn’t for you, she would still be in command of the Pop Cops.”
“Does she know I don’t have the authority to grant anything she asks for? That I would need the Committee’s approval?”
“Yes. And that may be part of the gloating.”
“Wonderful,” I grumbled. “Do I have to talk to her in the brig?”
“No. We’ll bring her to my office and secure her, then give you two privacy.”
This kept getting better and better. “When?”
“Now.”
The thought of negotiating with Karla Trava sapped my energy. I rubbed my hand over my eyes.
Logan said, “Trella, each second we stand here brings us closer to a collision. We need to fix the Transmission.”
“All right.” Let the fun begin.
Anne-Jade had commandeered half of Karla’s office in Quad A4, including her large desk and multiple computers.