Space Station Rat (6 page)

And they were evil. One day her neighbor would make perfect sense—for an ordinary rat. Then he would come back from where the scientist took him. He ate and drank and moved around, but he no longer sniffed noses through the bars or talked to Rat. Then one day the cage would be empty, too. This had happened many times. Rat was smart enough to know it might happen to her. But she had not thought about escaping until she saw the television and, later, the window.

A new lab worker had come. He fed her bits of his liverwurst sandwiches. He always brought a small TV set. He had put the TV on the counter near Rat's cage while he worked. Rat remembered the first program: a documentary on wheat farming in Iowa. There were miles and miles of wheat the same color as the cardboard they put in the cage for her to chew. After the harvest there were miles and miles of
dirt
! What a revelation! Places without walls! Places almost without people!

The weather reports had fascinated Rat. So many new words: cloudy, hot, cold, rain, snow, wind, clear skies, breezy …

What were these mysterious things? Rat did not know. Until the window.

The scientist had been in a hurry that day, something forgotten. He had carried Rat into a kind of room she had never been in before: an office. The light inside was yellow, not white like from the tubes in the ceiling. Its brilliance blinded Rat. The cage thunked down. Smells exploded in her nose. She had no idea what these smells were—something like the vegetables they gave her to eat, only more green, more alive. Something like her cage when the shavings hadn't been changed, only sweeter, crumblier, cleaner.

When Rat was able to open her eyes, she thought her cage rested in front of a huge TV. She could see trees, grass, and flower beds with black dirt all bathed in a light so brilliant and clear. The clarity made her feel as if her eyes had never seen before. She could see every leaf that fluttered on the trees. They winked silver-green.

The light darkened, then returned. Rat looked up into the sky—out there was what the TV weatherman had described that morning:

“And now my forecast for today. High pressure will dominate our region, while a cold front moving in from the north will bring partly cloudy skies and a southwesterly breeze by afternoon.…”

Rat shook the stupid voice out of her head. It was all so much more beautiful than those words!

Layer upon layer of odors flowed through the open window. Rat stood perfectly still. Her nose worked delicately, sorting, mystified. The scientist fumed, slamming drawers and cursing. Between his noises, Rat heard a new sound. It sounded like grain pouring into her food bowl, only much softer. This delicious sound came from the leaves of the trees.

The startling light had gradually moved into Rat's cage, yellow as crisp new shavings. She stepped into it. Warmth embraced her. Every hair in her coat glittered. Sunlight. From outside. Wildness, anger, and resolve seized Rat. She began to plan her escape.

And now look at her! Trapped on a space station! It made her want to chew wire, chew lots of wire, chew
all
the wires!

The door opened, and the boy's complaining voice drove everything from Rat's mind. “It wasn't fair! You left me alone for
hours
! Then sneaking up. You
scared
me!”

“Noisy, dull boy,” said Nanny. “Lucky
we
are the hunters. Lucky
you
are not a rat. Sleep now.”

“I don't want to!”

We?!
Rat could not see them. Rat did not let a single muscle even feel a wish to see them.
We are the hunters!

“Annoying boy, you must.”

“You, too, then. You sleep, and we'll start again together.”

“Nanny does not sleep.”

“Well, go fix something. Just don't hunt anymore. Not until I can help again.”

“Nanny does not need help.”

“Stop saying that! I'm helping
them,
not you. That's why it's important.”

“Them?”

“Mom and Dad. The captain. Don't you remember? The captain said the rat had to be caught quickly before it chewed something important, maybe something that could ruin Mom and Dad's work. That's when they really got excited about my going. So I'm helping them.”

How could Rat have been so stupid, thinking the boy was her friend? He was human. Of course he would help them, not her.

“Nanny is not programmed to understand. We are wasting time. Go to sleep.” Nanny's motor hummed.

“All right already. I know I have to sleep. But I don't need lots. Come get me in four hours, okay? I'll set my alarm.”

“Nanny will work very fast while you sleep. You will not go hunting again.”

“Oh yeah? You didn't get it last time you were alone. I don't think you'll get it now.”

Nanny clicked. “You are a stubborn boy. Nanny will return in six hours.”

“But—”

The door closed.

The boy clomped toward the bed. Besides the
scritch
of his boots, Rat heard a dragging, then a heavy thud as the boy dropped something on the floor. He flopped onto the bed. Rat nudged an eye out of the folds of the T-shirt. She stared at the gun. It looked nearly as big as the boy.

The gun changed everything.

The boy got off the bed. The computer started up, followed by typing. Rat guessed he was writing his pen pal. Telling all about the hunt. Stupid boy! You're trying to
kill
your pen pal.

But the boy did not know that. Rat had to be fair to him.

What would he do if he knew?

The boy shut off the computer. He took something out of a locker. He came back and sat on the bed. He pulled off his boots. Blood stained the back of his right sock. Rat leaned closer to the screen. The sock and then a bloody bandage came off. The broken blister looked more painful than the one on her tail.

The boy set the first-aid kit on the floor. He began to clean his hurt foot. He took sharp, short breaths as he worked. Rat's own tail began to throb as she remembered how much it hurt to touch. The boy gingerly rubbed on ointment. It looked and smelled as if it would work much better than butter. He put on a bandage, working with careful fingers. Rat never saw the boy do anything so neatly before.

The boy put the first-aid kit away, set his alarm clock, then fell into bed still wearing his clothes.

“Please don't let Nanny find it … please.” The boy whispered this a few times, then his breathing changed to the rhythms of sleep.

Rat was not so lucky. She slept badly, waking often. She must get the message perfectly right. She dreamed she forgot how to type. Or suddenly, she floated, too light to press the keys. Once the screen filled with paw prints instead of letters.

Each time Rat woke, the bulky shadow of the gun greeted her tired eyes. A flashing light on its control panel winked rapidly, as if excited, as if to say to her, “I know you are there.”

C
HAPTER
T
EN

T
HE
R
AT

When the alarm rang, Jeff got straight out of bed. He was ready for something to happen. He was ready to make something happen. He grabbed the gun. Lunge. Pivot. Aim.

“
Blam-blam-blam!
” He yelled these words even though the modern gun did not make such crude noises. It was more fun than quietly saying, “
Zizz-zizz
.”

“I got the moves.”

Lunge. Hop into reverse crouch.
Thwack!
The blistered heel slammed against the laundry drawer.

“Ow!”

He dropped the gun and fell onto the bed. He rocked back and forth, clutching just above his ankle, trying to throttle the pain. When the throbbing lessened he looked at the clock. Ten more minutes. Would Nanny come? Had there been any real shooting while he was asleep?

Just be ready, Jeff told himself. Don't give Nanny any excuse to leave you behind.

He packed his backpack. He ate a concentrated breakfast ration. He checked the bandage and put on his boots. He brushed his teeth.

Five minutes.

He wanted to check his e-mail. As soon as he turned on the computer, a warning notice flashed on the screen:
METEOR RISK HIGH NEXT FOUR HOURS
.
ALL PERSONNEL TAKE PRECAUTIONS
.

That meant lots of jiggles on the space station, maybe even a puncture. Mom and Dad would be nervous wrecks today. Jeff reached into a cubby next to the desk and took out the emergency air mask. He set it next to the keyboard. For once Jeff was glad he'd be with Nanny. He hadn't believed the robot before when it told him it could fix any meteor damage. Now he knew better—the safest place to be in a meteor storm was with a prowler.

He checked his e-mail.
SORRY
,
NO MAIL
.

What had happened to his pen pal? The last message said he was sick and not to worry. But Jeff did worry. It made him sad to think he might lose his new friend just like that. What fun if they were
both
hunting the rat—so much more fun than hunting with Nanny! Fat chance his pen pal could ever visit the space station, but it was fun to imagine. Would they meet when he got back to Earth? That might be—

The door buzzed. Jeff spun the chair around and hurled himself out of it. Then he stopped. Was Nanny waiting there with a dead rat dangling from a gripper?

The door opened and there was Nanny. Just Nanny. “Follow me. You are wasting time.”

Nanny turned and moved down the corridor. Jeff grabbed his backpack and gun, and followed. When he caught up, Nanny said, “Progress report: Analysis indicates the rat's nest is in the Mid-Ring workshop. We will find it now. The hunt will end.”

“What's the Mid-Ring workshop?”

“The parts for the last five rings were made there. The machines are worn out. The workshop has not been used for twenty years, four months, three days. The records say there is no air in it.” Nanny stopped abruptly. Jeff bumped into it. The green eye swiveled to face him. “Sloppy people! The records are wrong! There is air. How can Nanny search properly if the records are wrong?”

Jeff shrugged.

Nanny's eye glowed brighter.

“Sloppy boy,” Nanny said. “Where is your emergency mask?”

Jeff touched his belt clip. “Shoot! Left it on the desk. I'd better go get it.”

“Delay delay—unacceptable. Top priority: Kill the rat,” Nanny droned, and started to move away from Jeff. Then Nanny hesitated, stopped. “Nanny must protect the boy from harm—orders.”

Nanny was his protector? He'd thought they'd made the robot just to keep him out of their way.

Nanny spun around. “Go back. Quick.”

Jeff hurried. He didn't want Nanny to march him back. What a surprise to see Nanny confused! A perfect example of fuzzy logic. He was telling himself to remember it for Mr. DiSalvo's artificial intelligence class, when he opened the door. The
clickity-tap
of keys immediately drew his attention to the computer. Something lavender stood on the keyboard.

“
Hey!
”

It startled, turning eyes as black as sunspots on him.

Jeff had never seen a rat before. He didn't know they could be that color. He didn't know rats had eyes like that, or such big, pink ears. He wasn't even sure rats had ears. They were so delicate. The light from the monitor shone through them. They had dark little veins, just like a leaf.

“
Alert! Alert!
Privacy override!”

Jeff's legs went out from under him. The world tilted, like a bad step while running.

Meteor!

But then he felt Nanny's hard shell shoving against the side of his leg, collapsing his knee. He flailed for balance. His boots slid on Nanny's smoothness. Door frame. Grab it. He missed and toppled down on Nanny. Motors whined shrilly. Flashes of laser fire lit the room.
Zizz. Zizz.
The wall above his bed exploded in a shower of hot sparks.

Nanny regained its wheels and rushed to the bed, grippers extending as it moved. It ripped the grating off the vent. Something fell onto the bed, bounced, rolled off.

The rat? But it couldn't be, because Nanny paid no attention to it. Nanny seized the edge of the vent and hauled its body up so that its eye could see inside.
Zizz-zizz. Zizz-zizz.

Nanny dropped onto the bed.
Rattle-bump-ping: A
sniffer popped out, jaws snapping madly. Nanny lifted it into the vent, then somersaulted to the floor.

“Get out of the way,” Nanny said.

“
That
was the rat! What was it doing here?” Jeff asked, scrambling to his feet.

“Get out of the way,” Nanny said.

“Where are you going?”

“It is ninety percent likely the animal will flee to its nest. I will be there.”

Jeff picked up his gun. “Me too!”

“
No.
You will stay here.”

“That's not fair! I would have blasted it. It's just … well, I thought rats were brown!”

“You are an ignorant boy. Move aside.”

“No!”

“Yes!”
Nanny seemed to get bigger, like a porcupine raising its quills. Dozens of mechanical arms poked out of hidden holes in Nanny's black armor and waved and clattered. Nanny lurched forward.

Jeff meant to hold his ground, but the instant before Nanny touched him, he flinched and let Nanny scoot past.

C
HAPTER
E
LEVEN

T
HE
C
HASE

Rat was not running as fast as she wanted to. Rat was not running as fast as she needed to.

Faster! Faster!

But the metal air duct was not very grippy. Rat's sharp nails and soft toes slapped and slipped. The sniffer motor whined behind her, louder every moment. The shrill noise hurt her sensitive ears.

Rat ran straight toward her goal. No point in dodging this way or that. Once a sniffer got on your trail, it never lost you. It followed you by sight and scent and heat and many other signs. The only way to escape was to break the trail completely. There was only one place Rat might do that: the central air shaft. She needed to leap all the way across it. She must do it before the sniffer saw her.