Emek issued orders to a couple scrubs. When they left, I pushed a marker into his hands. “Sign, please.”

“Hold on, you still owe me five hours,” he said.

I met his gaze. “Cogon’s execution is in twenty-four hours. I don’t have time.”

Understanding softened his face; he signed the cuff. “Ever have a cuff before?”

“My first.”

“Put a little sheep’s oil on your wrist under the cuff before the Pop Cops remove it. Otherwise, the sucker tends to grab a hunk of skin when it’s cut off.”

“Thanks.” I strode from solid-waste handling and headed to the right. My supervisor’s voice called from behind me. She wasn’t kidding about watching me. Suppressing a groan of annoyance, I turned.

My heart dropped into my stomach and ran laps. Lieutenant Commander Karla and three Pop Cops followed my supervisor. The LC’s smug expression and the terrified fury on my supervisor’s face told me all I needed to know.

Without hesitating, I ran.

16

MY SUPERVISOR’S SHRILL VOICE CALLED FOR ME TO stop. One of the Pop Cops threatened to shoot me, but LC Karla’s calm order to stun me made my legs run faster. I reached an intersection just as a sizzle slap sounded behind me. Diving into the hallway on my left, I felt the pulse clip my legs.

I rolled along the floor. A burning pain danced along my calves and left my muscles numb. Scrubs yelled and scattered. The corridor filled with noise and confusion. Regaining my feet proved difficult, I used my upper arms to balance on numb legs. The quickest of Karla’s Pop Cops reached the intersection.

Pushing scrubs out of his way, he aimed his stun gun at me. Without thinking, I grabbed a screwdriver from my belt and flung it at him. The tool knocked into his arm. His shot flew low, hitting me below the waist.

I fell over, landing on my back, feeling as if a million needles jabbed through my uniform and into my thighs. The Pop Cop stepped closer, raising his gun again.

He was bumped from behind. Cursing, he turned to stun the closest scrubs. I hurled my wire cutters at him. They grazed his head, so I lobbed my flashlight. A direct hit. His gun clattered to the floor with a satisfying crack. Surprised, he stared at me a moment, then glanced over his shoulder.

His buddies should be arriving any second, but sounds of a commotion reached us from the other hall.

Taking advantage of his hesitation, I rolled onto my stomach and pulled my body away from him—the benefits of having strong arm muscles. A heating vent beckoned from two meters away.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” he said.

Too much weight on me, I strained to a stop. He had latched onto my ankles.

“Don’t you want to help your boss? Sounds like she’s in trouble.” I transferred my weight to my left elbow, turning my body sideways and freeing my right arm.

He paused. Karla’s voice boomed through the sounds of panicked scrubs, ordering them to get out of her way. The sizzle slap of a stun gun increased the noise level.