“The disks—”

“Could be part of the ruse.”

He smiled. “Then why did you risk punishment to get them?”

“To prove Broken Man wrong.”

“Then go ahead, prove us wrong.” His confidence turned smug and he watched my expression with a knowing grin. “You can’t resist a challenge. It got you into all kinds of trouble in the care facility.”

“We’re not in the care facility anymore.” I tapped his bruised ribs, emphasizing my point. “The stakes are higher.”

“So is the reward.”

I shook my head. We had lapsed into the same old argument with no ending and we had talked too long. The Pop Cops headed our way. Their continued interest in Cogon meant he remained their primary suspect.

“Why did they let you go?” I asked.

“Two scrubs came forward while I was being questioned and claimed they saw Broken Man wrestle the Pop Cop for his weapon before the elevator doors closed.”

My breath locked in surprise. After a moment I asked, “Did you get their names?”

“Not yet. But I will.”

“Keep playing innocent,” I whispered to him as the Pop Cops came within earshot. Then in a louder voice I said, “And my cleaning device has been making weird noises.”

“I’ll let maintenance know,” Cog replied.

“Thanks.” I walked away.

Another twist. I sighed. Why would two people lie? Especially when the right information could make their lives a lot easier.

The questions would have to wait while I dealt with my supervisor. She paced the hallway in front of my cleaning troll’s storage area. A red cuff clenched in her long-fingered hands. She frowned at it.

“Trella,” she said with a snarl. “Going to show up for work this shift?”

I braced myself. What rotten luck. The supervisors checked to make sure each scrub assigned to them was at the proper work location about once a week. My bad luck to have her looking for me during my last shift. At least I hoped it was bad luck and not the directive of a certain lieutenant commander.

“Where were you?” she asked.

“Special assembly.” I glanced at the cuff. If she snapped it around my wrist, I would have to report to the Pop Cops for discipline. They would probably assign me to work in waste handling during my off hours. When I completed the punishment, the cuff would be removed. Until then, everyone would know I was in trouble.

She hissed in exasperation. “The assembly lasted two hours. You were missing for eight.” She pulled the cuff open.

“It took me almost two hours to get out of the dining room, and then I had to wait to speak with Lieutenant Commander Karla.”

The LC’s name elicited the desired effect. Her hand paused in midair and she shot me a white-faced look. Usually only ensigns and lieutenants policed the lower levels. LCs were as rare as a change in routine, and all the scrubs knew to keep their distance.

“Oh, well, in that case.” She lowered her arm, probably assuming time spent with a Pop Cop lieutenant commander was worse than working in waste handling.