“I wouldn’t do it,” he said. “It would…annoy me.”

Interesting choice of words. I rationalized my cowardice and decided to wait. After all, there was no sense making a scene.

Jacy held court in his corner of Sector D1’s barrack. At least six unhappy expressions turned to me as my companion delivered me to his boss. My worry switched from annoying the man clamped on my elbow to Jacy’s livid face.

“I knew it would happen eventually,” Jacy said. The muscles along his arms quivered and his eyes held a wild shine. “I just wasn’t…prepared.” He swallowed and his anger eased a bit.

“What happened?” I braced for the answer.

“I want to blame you, but I can’t.” He looked away.

My guard’s fingers dug into my skin and I yelped.

Jacy’s attention snapped back to me. This time grief lined his eyes. “Cogon’s been scheduled for execution.”

13

HIS WORDS SLICED THROUGH MY HEART, CUTTING IT into little pathetic pieces. I understood how he could feel unprepared. The knowledge that the Pop Cops would recycle Cog had been trapped deep within me and ignored. I planned to deal with it later or, better yet, hoped it would disappear altogether.

“When?” I asked.

“Hour ninety-nine. They plan to walk him down to Chomper’s Lair and kill-zap him there.” Outrage filled Jacy’s voice. “They figured it would be easier than lugging his body down there. The timing is so Lieutenant Commander Karla can use his execution to lecture us during the hundred-hour assembly on the consequences of disobeying the Pop Cops.”

I did the math. Fifty-eight hours left.

“If what you’re doing can help Cog, you’d better do it quick,” Jacy said.

“I can’t do anything with a broken arm.”

He nodded and the big guy released my elbow. I rubbed the joint and turned away.

“Trella,” Jacy called.

“What?” I almost growled at him.

“Let me know if you need anything. Anything at all.”

It was a generous offer, considering the last time we conversed he had called me worthless. “Got it.”

With my emotions spinning, I hurried to meet Logan. I walked right past my turn and had to stop. Distractions would be dangerous, and all our efforts would be for nothing if we were caught before accessing the computer. I squashed my fear and worries into a small metal box and dropped in the shattered remains of my heart for good measure. Locked with an obnoxiously big lock, I pushed the container into a far corner of my thoughts.

Focused and almost robotic, I marched toward corridor A2-5. Logan fidgeted and paced, trying to appear nonchalant, but failing miserably. At least he wasn’t chewing his nails.

I led him to the door of the maintenance room next to Quad A’s lift. While he watched the hall, I opened the door’s lock. Memories of Cog and I hiding Broken Man in a laundry bin in this room threatened to overwhelm me. I clamped down on the feeling. No emotions allowed. We slipped inside and locked the door.