Which meant Jacy knew about them. “What are their names?”

Bubba Boom squinted at the warped metal in his hands. He turned it over and over. “What if they’re innocent?”

“Then we keep searching. We’re not like the Pop Cops,” I said.

“Really? Then why are there ISF goons patrolling the barracks all the time?” he asked.

“Because of the fights,” Anne-Jade said from the doorway. “They’re not working so they’re bored. Nine times out of ten boredom leads to trouble. We did our share of proving that theory didn’t we, Bubba?”

A wide grin spread on his face, matching Anne-Jade’s. “We sure did,” he said.

Logan’s displeasure deepened. “As much as I’m not enjoying this little reunion, we need the names of the two stink bombers.”

Bubba Boom met Anne-Jade’s gaze. “Promise me you won’t do anything rash? That you will be one hundred percent sure they’re guilty before you arrest them?”

“When have I ever done anything rash?” Anne-Jade asked.

He gestured to me. “When you risked everything helping her.”

“That wasn’t rash,” she corrected. “Risky, dangerous and suicidal, but not rash. We studied the situation carefully before offering our assistance.” She winked at me. “Stubborn scrub almost turned us down, but it worked in our favor.”

Bubba Boom tapped the metal piece against his leg as he considered. “All right. Kadar works in waste management, and Ivie is one of the gardeners in hydroponics.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Can you keep our…suspicions quiet for now? I don’t want people to panic.”

“Sure.” He hesitated and glanced at Anne-Jade before leaving the control room.

“He’s full of sheep’s manure,” Logan said. “A woman named Ivie who just happens to work in hydroponics. Come on, how dumb does he think we are?”

“At least he didn’t say Crapdar,” I said.

Logan laughed. “Close enough.”

Anne-Jade frowned. “I think he’s telling the truth.”

“You would,” he said.

“What’s that suppose to mean?”

Before they could launch into an argument, I asked Logan, “Can you look up those names in the population records, see if they do exist?”

“I don’t have the time, but you can do it. It’s easy,” he said.

I tried to object, but Anne-Jade said, “I need you first.”

Her tone didn’t give me a warm feeling. “For what?”

“None of the Travas will tell me who worked on the Transmission.”

Cold fingers gripped my stomach as I braced for the rest of her news.

“However, ex-Lieutenant Commander Karla Trava is willing to cooperate. But she’ll only negotiate with you.”

“Do I want to know why?”

“I think it’s obvious,” Anne-Jade said. When I failed to respond, she added, “Gloating over our problems for one, and just being difficult because she can. Plus she sees you as her ultimate enemy. If it wasn’t for you, she would still be in command of the Pop Cops.”

“Does she know I don’t have the authority to grant any thing she asks for? That I would need the Committee’s approval?”

“Yes. And that may be part of the gloating.”

“Wonderful,” I grumbled. “Do I have to talk to her in the brig?”

“No. We’ll bring her to my office and secure her, then give you two privacy.”

This kept getting better and better. “When?”

“Now.”

The thought of negotiating with Karla Trava sapped my energy. I rubbed my hand over my eyes.

Logan said, “Trella, each second we stand here brings us closer to a collision. We need to fix the Transmission.”

“All right.” Let the fun begin.

Anne-Jade had commandeered half of Karla’s office in Quad A4, including her large desk and multiple computers. The other side held two smaller worktables for her lieutenants. The room remained almost the same from when Karla occupied it. Weapons and handcuffs hung from the side wall, Remote Access Temperature Sensitive Scanners (RATSS) lined a shelf and a bench with chains and cuffs bisected the area.

The couch had been removed and a variety of high-tech devices filled the long table. Anne-Jade’s little receivers and microphones made the Pop Cop’s communicators look clunky and old.

While Anne-Jade and her lieutenants fetched Karla, I paced the room. I automatically noted all the points of escape—two air vents in the ceiling and four heating vents near the floor.

When the door banged open, I steeled myself for the encounter. Sitting on the edge of a hard metal chair, I fidgeted with the buttons on my shirt. Wedged between the two ISF officers, Karla’s smirk didn’t waver as they cuffed her to the bench. She had twisted her long blond hair up into a knot on the top of her head. Her gaze swept my face and clothes, sparking amusement in her violet-colored eyes.

Now that I knew the doctors could change a person’s eye color, I wondered if Lamont had tampered with hers.

“We’ll be right outside.” Anne-Jade handed me a stunner. “Just yell if you need us.”

The door shut with a metallic clang that vibrated in my heart, matching my rapid pulse.

Karla laughed. “Still afraid of me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. It’s disgust and not fear on my face. You reek of the brig.”