Inside Out Read Online Free PDF Page B

match the rivets up right, no one can tell what’s behind the blind. I’ll do it during my next shift,” he said.
    “Good. Make sure no one sees you. And when you’re done, keep far away from this room. I’ll take care of Broken Man.”
    Cog nodded, pulled out a set of earplugs from his belt and handed them to Broken Man. “I’ll also bring some insulating foam to cut down the noise.”
    The quarters had a bathroom, but I had to make sure the water was turned on. Our shifts started in a few minutes. “Can you take care of yourself for the next shift?” I asked the prophet.
    “I’ll be fine for now,” he replied though his eyes looked a little wild. He held his hand out. “I’ll keep the disks.”
    “No. If they find you, they find the disks. I’ll hide them,” I said. I stuffed the disks back into my belt. Broken Man pulled his hand away. His expression guarded.
    Cog left through the door, and I locked it behind him. “I’ll be back after my shift with a few supplies.”
    The prophet blinked at me, but said nothing as he pushed the green foam plugs into his ears.
    I climbed into the vents and found the valves to turn on the water. Then I hurried to level two to report for work.
     
    Ten hours seemed like an eternity as my thoughts dwelled on the need to hide the disks.
    After my shift, I climbed to level four. This time I didn’t slip and I didn’t encounter any RATSS. Ultrasonic scanners and RATSS they might have, but I knew plenty of hiding places all over Inside where the electromagnetic currents scrambledultrasonic waves. Spots that reflected a solid wall on their scanner displays. I stayed in those hidden areas as I traveled.
    In the Gap on top of level four, I had hidden a small box where I kept my valuables. It was difficult to find and dangerous to reach. Perfect for hiding Broken Man’s disks.
    My niche appeared untouched. Until now, I had stored only two items in this cabinet. I placed the disks next to the thread-picture of my Care Mother. Colored threads had been sewn onto a white handkerchief, and, from a distance, her face and kind eyes could be seen.
    She understood my need to disappear in the pipes. Her support when Cog grew out of our group had made living bearable. I wondered what my CM would think about the trouble we were in now. Considering the problems my care mates and I had managed to cause during our stay, I imagined she would sigh with exasperation.
    Imagining her frown, I smiled because, no matter how hard she had scowled, she couldn’t stifle the gleam in her eyes. The gleam that said she was proud of our inventiveness. The gleam that encouraged us during lessons to think for ourselves even while she taught us the standard Pop Cop propaganda.
    It must have been difficult for her, getting a new child when one of the older kids reached the age of maturity and left. Our ages had ranged from newborn to fourteen centiweeks old.
    I folded the handkerchief and smoothed a few wrinkles before returning it to the cabinet. The other item in my niche was a comb decorated with pink pearls along its spine. The smooth spears pushed into my fingers as I pulled the comb through my long brown hair. With all the excitement, I had forgotten to rebraid it and it had knotted.
    Thoughts of the comb wove through my mind as the comb’s teeth worked at the knots in my hair. According to my CM, it had been a gift from my birth mother. My CM had kept it safe for me until I reached 1400 weeks, the age of maturity. The age when you were no longer considered a child. It was when you became a scrub and the reality of what the rest of your life would be like became suddenly and brutally apparent. The old-timers called it sweet sixteen, but there wasn’t anything sweet about it.
    I finished combing my hair and examined the gift, wondering which adult scrub cared enough to part with such a precious item, yet didn’t care enough to contact me. Even though it was forbidden, a few mothers kept in touch with