Space Station Rat

by Michael J. Daley

  Rat was not interested. She jabbed her forepaw at the computer.

  “You want to go to the computer?”

  Rat nodded and pointed sternly.

  The boy limped as he carried Rat to the desk. He held her against his chest. He was very warm, but the open zipper of the jumpsuit rubbed her ribs. Annoying. She was thinking about biting him again, when he set her down gently in front of the keyboard. Rat shivered. She washed a ruffled spot on her shoulder until the fur lay down properly.

  Bones filled the computer screen. They were put together in a pattern. Rat read the diagram label: MAMMAL-RODERE-RATTUS-SKELETON. Rat studied the picture. She looked at her forepaw. She wiggled her toes.

  “Your bones are different from people bones. I needed to know how to put the splint on. I hope I did a good job.”

  Rat was not ready to thank the boy. She climbed onto the keys. She tried to get into the proper starting stance, but it was impossible with the hurt leg. She had to use her good back leg and tail to keep from toppling. She could not reach the SHIFT key using only her forepaws. Rat did not like that. It wasn’t correct, and she had always been a perfect typist. Besides, it was harder to make the words angry enough without exclamation points. She hit CAPS LOCK and typed: NEVER EVER EVER EVER PUT ME IN A CAGE AGAIN.

  “Cage? It’s just a box. I thought it would be a safe place while your leg healed. It’s busted, you know.”

  SCIENTISTS USE CAGES. THEY ARE NOT SAFE. FREEDOM IS SAFE.

  “That’s what you meant! You said you’d never been outdoors! You’ve been a lab rat! I’m sorry. How could I know?”

  How could he know? He couldn’t, of course. He did not know anything about Rat.

  “You’re a Modified, aren’t you? And you escaped from somewhere.”

  Rat nodded.

  “I bet you’re in big trouble with those scientists, whoever they are. And now you’ve gotten me in trouble, too. The captain’ll kill me when he finds Nanny!”

  Rat startled straight up. The hurt leg could not support her. She toppled and slid off the keys.

  “Careful!” The boy stopped her from going over the edge. Rat lay on her back, looking into his pale face. Would the captain really kill the boy? Rat remembered the terrible eyes, furious about the stolen food. The captain wanted to kill Rat for that.

  “I only meant to blind Nanny so we could get away. But when I hit it with the liverwurst, it went haywire and stopped.”

  So that was what happened, thought Rat. Her liverwurst had killed the vicious machine. Rat had saved it to eat, but what a better use! Rat wished she could see the robot dead in the dark and the dust.

  In the boy’s world, destroying Nanny was a mistake. Big enough to bring death? Rat could not be sure. She did not know enough about people. Too many mistakes in the lab, and the black tag got hung on the cage. Next day came the needle full of death. That was animals. But she saw on the news—every day—people killed their own kind, too, in many many ways.

  Rat signed, “Will they really punish you with death?”

  “It’s neat you can do that, but I still don’t understand.”

  How annoying!

  Rat rolled and reached for the keys. The boy helped her into position. Even upset he was gentle. The scientists rarely handled Rat as nicely.

  LEARN SIGN LANGUAGE SOON. WOULD HE REALLY KILL YOU

  “No, silly, but I can’t imagine what he will do!”

  Relieved, Rat sagged onto the keys. She was glad to know the captain would not hang a black tag on the boy’s cabin door.

  “Poor rat! You need rest, not problems.” His finger stroked Rat’s nose, but too quickly, too roughly for comfort. The boy was worried.

  Rap-rap-rap.

  “Hello in there.”

  “The captain!” the boy hissed.

  Run! Hide!

  But Rat could not run. She could not scurry into air vents. Her quick eye saw a shadowy place. Big enough! Most of Rat slipped inside the boy’s jumpsuit. The bandage snagged on the zipper.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  WHERE’S NANNY?

  The captain’s voice instantly reminded Jeff of the many urgent calls for Nanny while he cared for the rat. Nanny never answered, and now the captain had found out why.

  What would he do?

  A tickle along his belly made him look down. The rat struggled to get her broken leg into his jumpsuit. He was worrying about the wrong problem! Unsnagging the bandage, he scooped the rat in. She settled along the top of the waistband.

  “Jeff?” Mom, too! He jerked the zipper up.

  “Is everything okay in there?” And Dad! Everything was not okay. The box sat in plain sight on the bed.

  “Ah—wait—I’m not dressed,” Jeff called, then crossed the room in three quick strides, hunching over to keep the jumpsuit loose. He flicked the bed covers over the box and sat on the edge of the bed. He tried to sound groggy.

  “Okay. Come in.”

  The door slid open. Jeff stretched and yawned and groaned. He didn’t have to fake blinking. It seemed a three-headed monster crowded his doorway. The captain stood in front. Mom and Dad’s heads poked over his shoulders. It wasn’t an angry monster, and this surprised Jeff. Their expressions were eager, then quickly slumped with disappointment.

  “Not here, either,” the captain said.

  They don’t know!

  Mom said, “This is terrible! What are we going to do now?”

  What was terrible?

  The captain asked, “Why aren’t you hunting with Nanny?”

  “Nanny wouldn’t let me.”

  “But I ordered Nanny to take you along.”

  “Nanny doesn’t obey orders,” Jeff said. “Nanny threatened me when I tried to follow it!”

  “Preposterous,” the captain said. “Nanny is programmed to protect you, to keep you out of trouble, that sort of thing. It couldn’t threaten you.”

  Mom said, “It was awfully aggressive about reports, and it did blast that discarded barrel section to pieces right there in the cafeteria. Maybe it’s gone vicious or something.”

  Nanny was vicious! Jeff’s ribs hurt if he breathed deep. He had bruises. What if he told them that? Would that make wrecking Nanny okay? He wished there had been more time to talk with the rat. The rat was clever. She was sneaky. Maybe they could have come up with a story, like criminals with an alibi. He felt her warm body across his belly, but there was no way to communicate now. He had to figure it out himself.

  The captain said to Mom, “Nanny was in hunt mode then—it just needed a target.”

  “Nanny is in hunt mode now!” Mom said.

  “Ah … right …” The captain agreed. Then, considering, he shook his head. “No. It’s impossible. There must be some other explanation.”

  “I don’t need explanations!” Mom said. Her voice rose. “I need that robot now! What are you going to do?”

  What could be wrong that they needed Nanny so desperately? Maybe he would have to tell. What could he say and stay out of trouble? Jeff was wondering, when he noticed Dad.

  While Mom and the captain stood in the door arguing about what to do next, Dad had been observing. Now he stepped toward the computer. Jeff almost gasped. The computer was still on—with rat skeletons and rat words! The words seemed to glow in neon:

  NEVER EVER EVER EVER PUT ME IN A CAGE AGAIN.

  SCIENTISTS USE CAGES. THEY ARE NOT SAFE. FREEDOM IS SAFE.

  Did Dad see them? Jeff willed the screen saver to come on.

  Dad picked up the toilet-paper-tube telescope next to the keyboard. Just as Jeff remembered doing, Dad looked in each end. They’d accused him of stealing those lenses. Would Dad remember that?

  Dad glanced briefly at Jeff. Jeff couldn’t imagine what his own face showed at that moment. Dad puzzled over the three pairs of neat marks. He fingered the charred spot on the tube. Then his eyes turned up to the air vent above the bed.

  “Are you listening to me?”

  Jeff wrenched his gaze away from
Dad, who was lifting the tube to his eye, and looked toward the captain.

  “Don’t yell at him! This isn’t his fault,” Mom snapped. “Jeff, I know you’re always groggy when you wake up, but please pay attention. The captain asked if Nanny told you where it was hunting.”

  “I don’t remember,” Jeff said, hating to lie when she was taking his side. “I was mad. Nanny wouldn’t let me go. I didn’t pay attention. Why do you want to know, anyway? Are we going to die or something?”

  “We’re scaring you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” Mom said. “It’s not us, it’s the project … the world! Just the most senseless thing has happened! If we don’t … we’ll miss … it’s just terrible!”

  Mom stopped abruptly. She was shaking.

  Dad slipped the tube into his pocket and put an arm around her. He said, “One of the meteors damaged a rocket stabilizer somewhere. It’s out of control. It keeps jiggling the station.” Dad glanced at his watch. “We have four hours and thirty-six minutes to find it and shut it off. Otherwise, we’ll miss solar maximum.”

  Jeff had no idea the critical time for the experiment was so close. He hadn’t been paying much attention to his parents lately.

  “Only Nanny can work fast enough to find it,” the captain said. “There are thousands of those things. We’ve lost the records on some. Of course, it’s one of those that’s malfunctioning!”

  “Sloppy,” Mom muttered. Then her fury got the better of her. “I just can’t understand how you could be so incompetent!”

  “I am not listening to that again!” The captain turned like a great blimp and stomped into the hall.

  Mom was right behind him, yelling, “Well, just what are you going to do? The fate of Earth is at risk here!”

  The captain said, “Only if you’re right, lady. Otherwise, this is just a royal waste of my time!”

  Boots ripped along the corridor.

  Mom poked her head in the doorway. Her face was splotchy. “That man! That ignorant man! Please, Jeff. Think hard. Any clue, maybe some place you went yesterday … anything might help. If we don’t … I mean … it’ll be another eleven years before we can try again. Too late! Those fools will begin global cooling.”

  She hurried after the captain.

  A surge of feeling hit the middle of Jeff’s chest. For the first time since arriving here, he wanted to help Mom.

  What a mess.

  CHAPTER SEVETEEN

  A WARM, DARK SOFTNESS

  When the zipper had gone up, the cloth squeezed tight, squashing Rat hard. It pressed on her body like the sleeve in the lab. They slipped it over you, a stiff ribbed cloth that stank of elastic.

  Gotcha!

  Can’t run!

  Can’t hide!

  It pinned paws flat. It pinched and did not let you move while they did whatever they wanted to you.

  Only the angry voices shouting to be let into the room stopped her from scratching at the boy. The captain! The mother! The father! She was helpless. Only the boy could keep her safe.

  A lurch. The cloth snatched tighter, hurting her leg.

  What is that boy doing?

  A violent twist. The zipper dug across her back. Then a jounce.

  “Okay. Come in.”

  The boy’s voice, heavy with forced tiredness, vibrated against Rat. Clever boy! He was pretending he’d been asleep. Rat heard the door open and a heavy tread. The boy’s breath caught.

  The boy leaned forward, and Rat missed some things as she adjusted to the sudden roominess. But soon she understood what mattered. They were looking for Nanny. The boy was not telling, not about Nanny, not about Rat.

  Rat relaxed into the warm, dark softness of her hiding place. Her body moved with the rhythm of the boy’s breath. It was like a lullaby, taking Rat back. Back, back to memories of a time when the fur in her nose was not her fur, the foot in her ear was not her foot, the tail under her chin did not belong to her. Feel the pulse of a dozen hearts different from her own. Smell sweet milk and sour pee and the warm largeness full of goodness.

  Such sadness for the long-lost goodness.

  Such bliss in the newfound closeness of the boy.

  Rat began to knead his T-shirt with her front paws, lost to the passing of time.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  TOO MUCH ATTENTION!

  Dad leaned against the desk. At least the screen saver was on now! He took the tube from his pocket. He twirled it thoughtfully.

  What did he suspect?

  Dad was good at making intuitive leaps on thin evidence. He didn’t know about the e-mail, and maybe he hadn’t seen or understood the rat’s words; but Dad did find the wire. He’d seen the tooth marks in neat pairs, just like Jeff.

  “Now wasn’t that something?” Dad said, looking up at last. “She yelled at him.”

  “Yeah, she did, didn’t she?”

  “A development.” Dad’s smile flashed briefly. “Too bad it took circumstances like this. You do realize how serious the situation is, don’t you?”

  Jeff nodded. He hardly ever lied to his parents, but the damage to Nanny was so bad, and the consequences were so huge, he couldn’t find a voice to admit what had happened.

  “Imagine! The fate of the world decided by a stray meteor and a missing robot.”

  Dad looked around. Jeff, too.

  So much to hide! He wasn’t doing such a great job, either. The mistakes were piling up: the computer left on, the box a big bulge under the blankets, bandages all over the place, the telescope left lying around.

  “Are you sure you can’t help, Jeff?”

  Earlier Jeff had thought there might be a way. But that was before Dad said there were only four hours and thirty-six minutes until solar max. With so little time, what good would it do to tell them where to find a broken robot?

  “I can’t.”

  “Hmmm,” Dad said. “What happened to your foot?”

  Didn’t Dad miss anything?

  “I got a blister from following Nanny halfway around this stupid space station!”

  Dropping the tube into his pocket, Dad knelt to inspect Jeff’s foot. A little red seeped through the wrapping. At least that could explain all the bloody bandages on the floor.

  Dad sniffed. Jeff noticed some liverwurst still smeared on his jumpsuit leg. How would he explain that?!

  Dad sniffed again, then with a little shake of his head, examined the foot.

  “Nice job. That’s right—you got the first-aid prize at camp last year, didn’t you. Bet you’d rather be at camp right now!”

  “I guess.” Jeff shrugged, then squirmed from a sudden tickle. What was that rat doing?

  “Oops, did I hurt you?” Dad asked.

  “A bit,” Jeff lied. He forced his body rigid against the rhythmic push and pull along his left side. The rat was kneading, just like a cat—slow, trancelike. Do rats purr?!

  Dad looked at Jeff, a frank, total seeing that made Jeff feel completely noticed—and nervous!

  “The rat was here, though, wasn’t it?”

  Jeff nodded. Lying about the obvious didn’t seem smart.

  Dad pointed at the vent and asked, “Did you shoot?”

  Jeff shook his head. “Nanny.”

  “Nanny missed?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So what actually happened here?”

  Jeff told about forgetting the emergency mask and coming back to find the rat. Nothing about the Mid-Ring workshop. Or about the rat standing on the keyboard. He dwelled on Nanny knocking him down and threatening him when he wanted to join the chase. Jeff paused, feeling his terrible anger again as he watched Nanny zip along the corridor, leaving him behind.

  What if Nanny had let him come? Would he have killed the rat?

  Jeff focused on the warm aliveness inside his clothes. It still seemed lost in some good feeling.

  “But Jeff.” Dad frowned. He glanced around the room. “Jeff. Where’s the gun?”

  “Oh no!” Jeff stood straight up. Sharp claws brace
d deep into his skin. He sat abruptly.

  “Oh no …”

  The sound of excited voices surged in the corridor.

  Rip-rip-rip-rip.

  The captain had remembered the gun, too.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  NANNY FOUND

  Rat did not mean to dig her claws in. She thought she was in a cozy place, a safe place. Quite a shock, the sudden movement and the fierce pressure when the jumpsuit went taut. The pain awakened in her leg didn’t help her think, either.

  She almost struggled more, harder, bit, and tore, afraid someone, something had caught her.

  Then there was a jounce and roominess and the sharp, frightened scent rising from the boy.

  Rat remembered where she was.

  She felt the boy groan from deep in his chest. “Oh no …”

  Something’s happened!

  She forced herself still.

  Good thing.

  The next sound she heard was the captain saying, “Where’s that gun?”

  The scent of the boy’s fear grew so strong, Rat had to fight against a sympathetic panic herself. The smell spoke to her instincts. Run! Escape! Hide!

  “I—ah—I—”

  “Don’t bother,” the captain said. “Control? Locate the boy’s gun immediately.”

  “Jeff! You didn’t shoot Nanny?”

  The father’s voice blared into Rat’s ears. He must be very close! Where are the other adults? Her teeth started to grind together. She clenched her mouth tight. The father might be close enough to hear!

  “He couldn’t have,” the captain said. “The SmartGun was programmed only to shoot rats.”

  Wicked gun! Wicked man!

  Beep. “Captain, we have a signal from the gun. It appears to be in the Mid-Ring workshop.”

  “What do you mean ‘appears’? Is it there or isn’t it?”

  Beep. “The maps say there’s no air in the workshop, so I don’t understand how it could be there.”

  “Well?”