Vinco growled. “That’s Commander Vinco, scrub. Since you’re in such a chatty mood…Porter bring me my knife!”

There was a muttered reply. I strained to see Commander Vinco. I wanted to put a face to the man who hurt both Riley and Cog.

“Damn assembly. My knife will be talking to you on my next shift,” Vinco said.

The white light shrank then disappeared with the slamming of the doors.

“Trella?” Cog pitched his voice low.

“Still here.”

“You shouldn’t be. Get going before you’re marked tardy for assembly.”

“But I need to hide Broken Man’s stuff for you.”

“You have time. The Pop Cops won’t be looking for it until hour twelve.”

His matter-of-fact tone about the exact time had an ominous ring. A cold unease crept up my spine. “How can you be so sure?”

“Vinco’s next shift starts at hour ten. I can take a beating and I can endure most pain. But two hours of Vinco’s knife is all I can bear.”

The bell rang for the hundred-hour assembly as I climbed from the bag-filter’s chamber. Damn. No time to change the stained and sweat-soaked uniform. I raced to my assembly station—the cafeteria—and ended up last in the short line. Only three scrubs between me and LC Karla. She leaned against a table, watching the check-in process. I wondered why she was here again.

My voice didn’t waver when I repeated my stats, but my heart beat a faster rhythm when Karla eyed my work suit with a contemplative purse on her lips. I tried to sidle past her.

“Running late?” she asked.

“Sorry, sir.” I stepped toward the dining room.

She blocked my way. “You weren’t scheduled to work. What have you been doing during your off time?”

Her stare could have frozen the warmest heart. I blinked. Caught by surprise, my mind blanked.

“Hey, Trella,” another scrub called. An older man with short gray hair and a stooped posture, he had gone through check-in just before me. “Thanks for helping with that clogged drain. Without your little hands, I don’t know what we would have done.”

“Anytime,” I said, waving.

Karla snatched my hand and inspected my short fingernails.

“No dirt under your nails?” She waited.

“I washed my hands, sir. They were in raw sewage.”

She dropped my hand as if I were contagious and gestured for me to join the scrubs assembled in the cafeteria. I stood next to the man who had covered for me. As Karla pushed her way to the front, I leaned close and whispered my thanks.

“Anytime,” he said, winking.

LC Karla climbed onto a table to address the crowd. “Citizens, welcome to the end-of-the-week celebration. Now begins week number 147,003.” She scanned the scrubs. “I have good news. We have caught the man responsible for my officer’s untimely recycling, and we will find Broken Man soon. However, if you know of anyone who may have helped hide Broken Man, you are to tell me immediately. Rewards for accurate information may result in promotion to the upper levels.”