I left Domotor and climbed to level four. Reaching my hidden cabinet, I removed the comb. It was a beautiful gift and should be used and displayed. After counting the teeth, I pocketed it in my tool belt and headed down.

Finding a warm spot to sleep, I dozed in the shaft. If I was Queen of the Pipes, I should request a better throne. Dreams of Outside swirled through my mind. The doorway hovered in front of me, but stayed the same distance away no matter how fast I ran.

My supervisor waited for me at the beginning of my shift. She scowled at me, and I knew it wouldn’t be good. It wasn’t. She yanked my arm out and slapped a red cuff around my left wrist. It bit into my skin.

“For failure to finish your shift. Explain,” she ordered, “and don’t try the broken troll excuse. Your troll was found in the air shaft in perfect condition, but no one could find you.”

My thoughts raced. “I fell asleep.”

“Where?”

“Air shaft seventeen.”

“You’re lying.” She uncapped a marker and wrote the number ten on the cuff. “Report to Emek in solid-waste handling for ten hours extra duty. It can be broken into five-hour increments during your next two off-shifts.”

“But that’s—”

“Have Emek sign the cuff and return to me after assembly. Failure to comply will result in your permanent reassignment to Emek’s team.”

Her punishment was extreme for a first offense. “But—”

“My supervisor was not happy over your disappearance. Now I’m on notice. I’ll be watching.”

True to her word she stayed until I hefted the troll into the shaft, and she waited at each transition point during the next ten hours. I thought she would follow me down to the solid-waste plant in Sector H1, but she just made sure I headed in the right direction.

Emek smiled broadly when I arrived. Blood seeped from under the bright-colored cuff on my wrist. “Welcome to the crap cleaners. Grab a pair of overalls, a plunger and follow Rat. He’ll be your partner.”

“Rat?”

He pointed to a young scrub. Despite the name, Rat wore clean overalls and his brown hair was trimmed and tidy. His manner remained pleasant even when we un-clogged a bilious wad, reeking with the most horrible stench. My eyes watered and I almost lost the contents of my stomach.

To distract myself, I asked him, “How did you get the name Rat?”

“It’s my nickname. My real name is Mark.”

“Okay, so how’d you get your nickname?”

“Rats like me. I keep their population down and make sure the rest are healthy.”

“Healthy rats?”

He laughed. “Most people don’t want to know what goes on in solid-waste handling. All they want is clean water and fertilizer. Rats are important to our world. Bet you didn’t know that.”

“You’re right.”

“Bet you don’t know about the bugs, either.”

I held a hand up. “I don’t, and I don’t want to. For certain things, ignorance really is bliss.”