LITMIR.BIZ

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meter space. The damage to level four resembled level three, except the floor had been ripped apart instead of the ceiling. The water pipes and air conduits that criss-crossed this space looked like broken toys.

      Climbing higher, I found Logan in the plant’s main Control Room on level four. He pounded on a keyboard, muttering and cursing to himself. A white bandage covered his left temple and eyebrow. Dark purple and red bruises colored his left cheek.

      “How bad is it?” I asked him.

      He jerked. “Where the hell did you come from?”

      It took me a moment to respond. Riley had said Logan looked better than me, but I’d slept since the explosion. Logan’s haggard oval face and bloodshot eyes told me it had been a long time since he’d rested.

      “Where else would I come from? Outer space?”

      He grunted and his focus returned to the computer screen.

      “I’m fine. Thank you for your concern. However you look like Chomper’s been chewing on you. When’s the last time you’ve eaten?”

      “No idea. What time is it now?” Logan cursed and slammed his fist down.

      I pulled his chair away from the console.

      “Hey!” He braced his feet, trying to scoot back.

      “No.” I swiveled him to face me. Nose to nose, I gave him my best scowl. “You need food and sleep.”

      “But—”

      “Inside has power and heat.”

      “But—”

      “Whatever you’re working on will still be there when you return.”

      “But—”

      “You can’t think straight without rest.”

      He clutched the chair arms as if I had threatened to pick him up and carry him to the cafeteria. No need. I would roll his chair if I had to.

      His words rushed out in a panicked burst. “But this is important!”

      I straightened and crossed my arms. Keeping a stern expression, I said, “This had better be good.”

      Logan’s wild gaze flicked to the door and back to me. “Promise to say nothing?”

      “I can’t".

      “For now. Just for now. Until I confirm it.”

      “Logan, you’re starting to worry me.”

      “Promise to keep quiet for now?”

      “Okay, okay. Now spill.”

      Once again he checked the door. He pointed to the top button on his shirt. “Is your microphone off?”

      “Yes.” I almost screamed the word at him.

      “The power plant wasn’t the only system to be damaged by the explosion.”

      “All the systems were affected by the electrical outage. Why is this a secret?”

      He rubbed a hand over his face. “We didn’t even know this system existed until ten weeks ago.”

      “Oh. An Outer Space system?”

      “Yep. And not a minor one like Gateway. This one is called the Transmission. In simple terms, it takes a portion of the energy produced by the power plant and transmits it to Outer Space, pushing us toward our destination. With me so far?”

      “Yeah. It’s moving us through Outer Space.”

      “Right. Except the explosion wrecked it. Without the Transmission operating, we can’t go faster or slow down or maneuver.”

      “And why is that so upsetting?”

      He raked his fingers through his brown hair. “Outer Space isn’t empty. There are massive objects called Planets, huge projectiles with names like Asteroids and Comets, and dense balls of burning gas named Suns. If we don’t crash into one of them, all these things exert a force that can either slow us down, push us off course or trap us. In other words, we’re dead in the water.”

      3

      “ARE WE IN ANY IMMEDIATE DANGER?” I ASKED Logan.

      “I don’t think so.” “Think?”

      “Sorry, some well-meaning scrub interrupted me before I could finish my calculations,” he teased, but his humor didn’t linger.

      “Can we fix the Transmission?”

      “I don’t know. The maintenance scrubs didn’t perform the routine cleaning and upkeep on it. I’ve a terrible feeling the Travas had been in charge.”

      Not good. Since Inside had a limited number of holding cells, most of the Trava family had been confined to their quarters in Sector D4.

      “Can I go back to work now?” Logan asked. “You can finish your calculations,” I said. “You’re not going to leave, are you?” “Nope.”

      I stood behind him as his fingers flew over the keyboard.

      After twenty minutes Logan whistled in relief, relaxing back against his chair.

      “Good news?” I asked.

      “We’re not about to crash into anything in the next four weeks.” He turned and met my gaze.

      “But?”

      “We might be on a collision course.”

      “Might?”

      Logan gestured weakly to the computer. “I need to search through the data … ”

      “Not now. You need to eat and sleep.” I cut off his squawk of protest as I yanked him from his chair. Marching him down to the upper’s cafeteria in Quad G3, I stayed with him while he ate. Then I escorted him to his little suite next to Inside’s main Control Room. The small cluster of rooms had been used by the Captain so he would be nearby in case of an emergency.

      We didn’t have a new Captain yet, but Logan came close. With his technical knowledge and familiarity with the computer systems, he had his fingers on the pulse of our world.

      Since the rebellion, the uppers kept doing their jobs, monitoring the life-support systems. I realized the scrubs hadn’t. They didn’t want to clean and perform the mindless tasks anymore. I didn’t blame them, but those tasks were vital to our existence. How could we convince them?

      I tucked Logan into bed. “Don’t leave until you’ve had a few hours of sleep. Do you understand?”

      He gave me a tired salute. “Yes, sir.”

      As I headed to the infirmary, I mulled over the problem of dividing up the work. No brilliant idea sprung to mind. I wondered how the people had done it before the Travas took control and separated us into uppers and lowers. Logan had discovered hidden files about the history of our world. Perhaps our ancestors had found a perfect balance. They must have had a system worked out. Once this crisis was over, perhaps Logan could cull this information from those files and show it to the Committee.

      I stretched as far as I could, groping for the next hand-hold. It remained just out of my reach. Resting my sweaty forehead against the cool metal, I let the disappointment roll through me. At least I had gone an additional five meters higher than my previous climb. I would have to find another path to reach the top.

      Sliding down the rope, I returned to the half-completed roof of level ten. Work on the new levels had ceased until the power plant repairs were finished. I was used to the sounds of construction and the bright daylights, so the Expanse felt desolate. I walked the perimeter of the completed section, shining my light over the metal wall, looking for another potential route to the Expanse’s ceiling.

      Hank had suggested I use magnets to climb. A great idea, except

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