I jumped to my feet. “I’m not like those sheep. I don’t listen to all that bull.”

“Really?” He raised one eyebrow in a mocking sneer. “Where did you acquire your vast knowledge of life in the upper levels?”

“In the care facility.”

“Which is run by the Pop Cops.” Smugness replaced his scorn.

I preferred the sneer. “So your purpose in inviting me here was to prove I’m an ignorant scrub?”

“No.” The word ground out as if it originated deep within him. He held up both hands in a stopping motion. “I’m trying to understand why you automatically assumed I’m a spoiled brat. And I wanted you to think about where you’ve gotten your information. It’s either from the Pop Cops or from the computer system, which is run by the Controllers. Both can’t be trusted.”

“Gee, thanks for that little nugget of advice. I wonder how I survived all these weeks without it.” I headed to the ladder. What a waste of time.

“Wait.” He grabbed my arm.

I yanked a screwdriver from my tool belt. He let go.

“Please listen,” he said to my back. “This isn’t going the way I thought it would. When my father asked why I was so interested in the scrubs, I told him—”

I rounded on him. “I knew this was a trap! Is your father waiting outside with a troop of Pop Cops?”

“No.” This time the word growled. Riley’s hands shook as if he fought to keep from grabbing me again. “I told him I wanted to help the scrubs, to do something…anything to ease their horrid living conditions.”

“Really?” Disbelief tainted my voice.

“Yes.” He practically shouted the word.

“Why?”

“Because of what you told me when you…er…visited last week. Before you dropped in, I thought scrubs were…” His arms moved in a vague all-encompassing gesture. “Were like your little device there, but bigger. We’re taught nothing more about scrubs than they clean and work. We’re threatened to be exiled to the lower levels if we do anything really bad. It’s implied that if we survived, the rest of our weeks would be filled with hard physical labor.” He held a hand up, stopping me from contradicting him. “Look. There are no pictures in our training computers. Truthfully, I hadn’t really thought about who lives in the lower levels at all. But there you stood, a real human being. My age, with…” He dropped his arms, slapping his hands against his legs. “Never mind, you wouldn’t believe me. My father said there was nothing I could do to help. He was right until Domotor went missing and I caught you in LC Karla’s office.”

“Caught?” I feigned innocence—all I could manage. His speech rolled around in my mind, and I couldn’t quite grasp the significance. “Don’t you mean found?”

“No. Caught. You didn’t see the petrified look on your face when you turned around. It was gone in an instant, but I’ll never forget it.” He smiled at the memory.