“Good point.” I considered his offer. “Where is your suite located?”

“Sector E4.”

I waited for the number, but he stared at the wall as if making mental calculations. “What’s your—”

“Are you going to tell me why you need access to the computer?”

“No.”

“You still don’t trust me.” He stated it as a matter of fact, but his arm muscles bulged as he pressed his palms into his legs.

I looked at Sheepy and his mother lying between us. The information about the uppers circled in my mind. Coddled, pampered and privileged had been the line. Yet it missed the mark with Riley. “I trust you.”

“Then why won’t you confide in me?”

“Partly for damage control and for selfish reasons.”

“We’re not accepting cryptic and vague answers right now. More detail, please.”

“We?” I asked.

He pointed to the sheep. I couldn’t help smiling. Such a stupid little toy, yet I admitted he filled the missing gaps deep within me. Picking up Sheepy, I held him close to my face. He was easier to talk to than Riley. “Damage control is to minimize the number of people who could expose this whole adventure. The selfish reasons are mine. Eventually, I’ll be caught and fed to Chomper. I’m hoping to cause a lot of trouble before then, and I hope I can convince the Pop Cops you were just a dupe. Someone I used and who didn’t know what was going on. I’m already responsible for sending one person to Chomper and another…” I swallowed as a shudder of guilt and horror swept through me. “It’s only a matter of time before he is sent. Don’t you see, Sheepy? I don’t want anyone else to be recycled because of me.”

Silence stretched, but I kept my gaze on the sheep, avoiding Riley’s expression. I couldn’t face his censure.

“I didn’t know you were a Trava,” Riley said.

“What?” I glanced at him. His eyebrows hovered midway between his eyes and hairline in almost thoughtful surprise.

“The Trava family decides who is fed to Chomper. I hadn’t realized you were a part of them.”

“That’s too easy. I can’t blame them. The Travas set the rules and carry out the punishments. My actions caused another to break the rules.”

“Oh. So you forced this person?”

“No, but—”

“But what? I’m trying to understand how you’re responsible. Is the blame all yours? My father told me the Travas aren’t supposed to be setting the rules—that it should be a Committee of all the families. The rules themselves are suspect. And there is also a thing called free will. I had a choice back in Karla’s office. You never asked me not to tell. I decided to help you instead. Are you responsible for my extra duty? No. I am.”

“You can twist the argument any way.”

“Exactly. You can shoulder all the blame and become a martyr. Provided anyone knows what or who you’re martyring for. Or you can accept that some things are important enough to fight for and realize there will be sacrifices along the way.” He peered into my eyes. “I’ve assumed this is one of those important fights. An effort to regain some of the freedoms we all lost. I’m well aware of the danger, but am still committed to helping you. You trust me and I need to trust you. So let’s take it to the next step. Tell me why you need access to an upper computer.”