The noise in the room rose to an uncomfortable level. I grabbed my tray, intent on leaving, but two scrubs stood right behind me. A young man and woman. They both had the same nose—a distinctly petite feature with a perfect shape. Combined with their matching oval faces and light greenish-brown eyes, I knew they were related. They wore the drab-gray and shapeless overalls of the recycling-plant workers.

Pitching his voice so the sound cut through the din, the man said, “We want in.”

I stepped aside so he could claim my seat.

He shook his head. “We want to help you.”

“With what?” Confused, I glanced at each one.

She gestured to the table. Two more seats were empty. The scrubs sat and she pulled me back down.

I yanked my arm away. “Who do you—”

“I’m Anne-Jade and he’s my brother, Logan. We want to help you find Gateway.”

Stunned, I gaped at them a moment. “But, I’m not—”

“Save it for the Pop Cops,” Logan said. “We know what you’ve been up to. We saw you with Cogon before he entered the lift. Saw the lift stop and Cogon leave the elevator’s maintenance room with the laundry bin. It wasn’t hard to figure out.”

They hadn’t told Karla, which meant a bribe. “What do you really want?”

“To help,” Anne-Jade said. Her lips pressed into a thin line, drawing her oval face into a serious expression.

“Why? You could get recycled.”

She swept her hand out, indicating the mass of people. “This is intolerable. I’d rather be recycled than to continue to live as livestock.”

Instinct kicked in. Too many people increased the chances of getting caught. Besides, I couldn’t trust them and I preferred to work alone. “Sorry, no. I can’t get anyone else involved.”

“We’re already involved,” Logan said. “Who do you think covered for Cogon?”

I scrambled for a reply. “Look, I’m thankful you saved Cog, but I really don’t know how you can help right now, and—”

“Listen.” Logan held up a metal wind-up toy near his ear then handed it to me.

“What—”

Logan gestured for me to listen to the toy. Not happy, I brought it close and almost dropped it when Broken Man’s voice whispered in my ear. He talked about Gateway and the disks, and I heard my own harsh reply. I stared at the little mouse murmuring in my hand. Its metal key turning. “How?”

Logan grinned. “Voice transmitting device sewn onto Broken Man’s shirt. This—” he picked up the mouse “—records and replays the conversation.” He held the device in the palm of his right hand, acting indifferent to the incredible danger he had placed us all in.

Realization finally clicked, and my bad situation turned downright rotten. I groaned. “You’re Tech Nos.”

Working in the recycling quadrant, Tech Nos “rescued” certain discarded items from the upper levels. They played around with the illegal technology—illegal for scrubs to have—and made it better. The Pop Cops hunted and killed these Tech Nos as fast as they would disease-carrying vermin. It was amazing Logan and Anne-Jade were still alive.