I slid out from under the collector. The adjoining Quads should be evacuated as well as the infirmary and care facility filled with children directly above the plant. I checked the clock. Five minutes past hour ninety-nine. The bomb was set to detonate at the very beginning of week 147,023.

There was enough time to evacuate, but I couldn’t leave. What if Bubba Boom arrived while I was gone? Instead, I paced and worried and second-guessed myself, sending out a call to Riley every ten lengths.

When Emek and his crew arrived, I rushed over. Not caring that they seemed upset to see me. My words tumbled out in a flood as I explained about the bomb. Emek quickly grasped the situation and he organized three teams to evacuate the Quads and Sector H2. Since the explosion would be so close to flammable gases, Emek told them to go to Sector E1 and H3 if they had time. Rat volunteered to find Bubba Boom in case Riley slept through my calls. He still hadn’t answered any of them.

I showed Emek the bomb. He barely fit under the collector. Another worry flared in my chest. Would Bubba Boom fit?

“Should we move it?” I asked.

“No.”

“How much time left?”

“About thirty-five minutes.” He pulled himself out and stood. “I wonder why the bomber left it with so much time. Could this be a distraction?”

“I hope not. Perhaps he wanted enough time to be far away. He did wait until everyone left the plant and probably figured no one would find it. Plus he didn’t know I was here since I came through the heating ducts.”

“After causing problems in Sector F1.” Emek crossed his arms, clearly unhappy.

“If I hadn’t been here, we wouldn’t know about the bomb.” I snapped at him.

“True. Although you being here to witness it seems too coincidental.”

“But who would know I’d be here? I didn’t know I’d be here. I was supposed to be in the air ducts, installing filters.”

“Perhaps someone saw you come in and he placed it here at this time to throw suspicion on you.”

“Why would I plant a bomb and then tell everyone about it? That makes no sense,” I said, outraged by his suggestion.

“So starting a riot made sense?” Emek asked, but his stern expression had softened.

“Nothing has made any sense since the first explosion!” I paced again. “Where are Bubba Boom and Riley?”

“If Bubba Boom was in Sector F1, then we’ll have to find someone else who’s an expert with explosives.”

“Why?”

“The ISF had to gas the entire Sector, putting everyone to sleep. They’re looking for you so you can identify the trouble makers before they wake.”

Lovely. I’d go from traitor to snitch. Getting blown to bits didn’t seem so bad.

When Bubba Boom finally arrived with both Riley and Rat right behind him, the tight band around my chest eased a bit. Emek showed Bubba Boom where the bomb had been planted.

“Why didn’t you respond?” I asked Riley.

“I did.” He touched my earlobe. “Your receiver is gone.” Blood dotted his fingertips.

“Oh.” I must have lost it in Sector F1.

Then Riley cupped my chin and turned my head. “Who slapped you?” Anger flared. “I’ll kill him.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him.”

“What happened?”

“She started the riot in Sector F1,” Emek said.

I shot Emek a sour look as Riley rounded on me, demanding an explanation.

“We have more pressing problems,” I said, gesturing to Bubba Boom as he knelt next to the collector. “A bomb. Remember? I’ll tell you later.”

Since Bubba Boom was too large to fit underneath, he used a mirror to read the display. The counter read nine hundred seconds, which meant we had fifteen minutes.

Riley insisted everyone else leave, including me.

“I need Trella to stay,” Bubba Boom said. “She’s the only one who fits underneath.”

Riley closed his eyes for a moment. “Fine, then I’m staying too.” He shooed Emek and Rat out the door.

As Bubba Boom inspected the bomb with his mirror, I pulled Riley aside and whispered, “There’s no reason for you to stay.”

“You’ve been trying to get yourself killed since Cog’s death. At least this time I won’t have to wait for news or wonder if you’ll survive your injuries. If this thing blows, we’ll both go.”

“I’m not trying to kill—”

“I think I know how to disarm it,” Bubba Boom said.

“Think or know?” Riley asked.

“It’s a basic mixing design. The glass containers are filled with two stable chemicals. When the counter reaches zero, it removes the barrier between the liquids. They’ll pour into the bigger pipe and mix together, creating a highly explosive combination. The counter will then create a spark and good bye half of waste handling.” Bubba Boom met my gaze. “As long as the bomber didn’t get cute with the wiring, it should be easy to disarm.” He handed me a pair of wire cutters.

Once again, I wriggled underneath the collector. Ten minutes left. My guts twisted and knotted with each second that disappeared.

“Pull the counter gently away from the pipes to expose the wires behind it,” Bubba Boom instructed.

My hands shook, but I eased the box out from where it was nestled between the glass containers. I moved the mirror so he could see.