I arrived at Domotor’s room without any trouble. The prophet sat on the couch surrounded by bits of metal. Anne-Jade and Logan worked together at the table. They all stared at me as if seeing a ghost.

Logan whooped and ran over to me. “You escaped!” He hugged me.

“Easy,” I said as his arms brushed several healing cuts.

“We thought you didn’t. What took you so long?” Anne-Jade asked.

“Overprotective doctor.” I tried to explain about the uppers and the Force of Sheep, but they already knew more than I did. “What’s been going on?”

“I’m getting good at traveling through the ducts,” Logan said, “and Anne-Jade’s been wearing the Pop Cop uniform so much the others are calling her Ensign Mineko.” His brow creased. “They keep close track of the scrubs, it would make sense that they would keep even closer track of their own people.”

“They’re glad to have the extra help,” Anne-Jade said. “Besides, just because the Travas have control of Inside doesn’t mean they are smart enough to know all their weaknesses.” She smiled with a predatory glint in her eye. “Weaknesses we can exploit to the fullest.”

“But don’t get too cocky,” I said, thinking of my father. “The Pop Cops have, and see what’s happening?”

“But it’s all noise,” Domotor said. “Travas control the computer systems. Despite these anti-stunners—” he flourished the metal piece in his hand “—another outright revolt will fail again. Although this time they might use poison gas instead of sleeping gas to subdue us.”

“Won’t happen,” I said. “They need us.”

“But what’s to stop them from putting us all to sleep and then going around and kill-zapping the troublemakers?” Domotor asked.

Nothing. “Then we’d better get control of the computer systems. Logan?”

“It’s going to take a coordinated effort from both uppers and lowers, but it’s doable.” He met my gaze. “And we’ll need to get into the Control Room.”

“Impossible,” Domotor said.

“Why? We have one upper who works there,” I said.

“All the overrides are there. One person isn’t enough,” Logan said.

I considered. All the high-ranking officers work there and they were all armed. Probably had extra guards, too. No way to walk through the door. Air duct seventy-two was the best way in, but we could be picked off as we dropped down.

“Logan, do you have any anti-kill-zappers?”

“No, but I have Zippy.” He hunted under the table and pulled Zippy from a pile of metal. “I’ve added another feature. Toggle this switch—” he pointed “—and Zippy will emit a pulse that should knock out their weapons.”

“Should?” I raised my eyebrows.

“I haven’t fully tested it yet. And he only has a short range.”

“What about the computer systems?” Domotor asked.

“They’ll be fine.”

A full-out rebellion would take a major amount of luck and coordination. The Tech Nos and Domotor looked at me, waiting. No one else would be able to organize both sides. I drew in a deep breath. We had the technology, the intelligence and the people—put enough sheep together and you have a herd, a force to be reckoned with. We needed a leader.

“Anne-Jade, how many of those listening and receiving devices do we have?” I asked.

“Four.”

“We’re going to need seven more all on the same frequency, plus all the anti-stunners you can make.”

“We’ll need more supplies,” Logan said.

“Make a list, I’ll contact Jacy.” He should be able to find a few skinny scrubs willing to make deliveries through the air shafts.

I made my own mental list of all the steps we would need to take. A daunting effort. Sadness gripped my heart. I wished Cog were here to help. He would be able to motivate the scrubs.

Maximum damage. It was the beginning of the end. Either we would fail or not. At least we could say we tried.

The Force of Sheep planned to declare war on the Travas during week 147,006 at hour sixty-six. After eighty hours of planning, of secret meetings, of setting distractions and false trails and of assembling illegal technological devices, we were ready.

At hour sixty-five, I crouched in air duct seventy-two with Zippy, waiting for the signal. Takia worked at her station. Even through the vent I could feel her nervous energy, and I willed her to stop looking over her shoulder. The atmosphere throughout Inside had been charged. Those who didn’t know what was about to occur, still sensed the keyed-up feeling of expectation. The Travas had tripled the number of Pop Cops on patrol.

Twice as many Travas had assembled in the Control Room. Both the fleet admiral and the admiral studied maps over the conference table in the far corner. I knew to expect one admiral, but not both. Surrounded by computers, the captain occupied the center of the room. I checked Zippy for the hundredth time. So much rested on the little cleaning troll.

Various stations called in their readiness. Riley and the rest of the uppers had changed their shift times and managed to be at their workstations. Domotor and Logan ghosted in the network. Doctor Lamont prepped for casualties. Anne-Jade, Jacy and his gang waited to overpower the Pop Cops on the lower levels and I prepared to spring a surprise on the Control Room.

Jacy’s voice sounded in my ear. “We go.”

Warning lights flashed in the Control Room’s panels. Banks of computers lined three walls of the room, and uppers sat before them, leaving an open space in the middle for the captain’s station.

“Call for help from Commander Vinco, sir,” an upper called. “Scrubs are revolting.”

The fleet admiral strode over to the captain. “Time to weed out the troublemakers, Captain,” he said.

“Send reinforcements, alert the air controllers to prepare the poison gas canisters,” the captain ordered. He typed on his keypad. “I’ve had it with these bothersome scrubs.”

A spinning feeling of panic grew in my stomach.

“Sir? The air controller on duty just told me to blow the gas out my ass.” Shock whitened the upper’s face.

I suppressed a chuckle. Logan’s voice sounded. “We’re in.”

All I needed to hear. I finished loosening the screws on the vent cover and pulled the cover inside the duct. No need to mask my noise as the upper workers reported one by one to the captain that the mechanical systems failed to respond.

“What do you mean not responding?” the captain demanded.

I lowered Zippy a few inches into the room and flipped the switch. No hum or spark, according to Logan the pulse would be silent. Still I would have felt better to at least see a flash. Trusting the technology, I yanked Zippy back.

The captain pounded on his computer. “Damn thing.”

“Engage the override, we’ll control the systems from here,” the fleet admiral ordered.

My turn. I dropped down onto the fleet admiral. A few cries of alarm had alerted him, but all he had time to do was look up. We landed together in a heap. The stun guns from all the Travas aimed at us, but none of them worked. I wore one of Anne-Jade’s anti-stunners just in case. Yanking my protected stunner from my belt, I neutralized the fleet admiral, the captain and the uppers working near the override controls.

It didn’t take long for a flaw in my plan to become obvious. I needed more time to aim and shoot than I expected. The other uppers left their seats to join in the fray, grabbing for me. Takia remained at her post.

Outnumbered, it was a matter of time before I was unarmed. Stunned bodies littered the ground and a few uppers moved awkwardly with half-stunned body parts. Two men held my arms with tight grips. Not part of the plan. I was supposed to stun everyone and open the Control Room door from the inside.

The admiral remained by his station. He glanced at his stun gun in his hand, then tossed it aside. “Report,” he ordered his team.

Except for the two holding me, the uppers returned to their posts.