Space Station Rat (8 page)

Rat landed on her side and bounced once with the liverwurst. She lay still, panting. She had nearly lost her life.

Her fault? Another mistake? But she never touched the wire, or the switch. As more air got to her brain, Rat remembered the words:
Emergency meteor decompression. A
moment longer, and they made sense. Not her fault.

The tunnel walls seemed too close suddenly. What if more meteors came crashing through? She got up to search for a way out. The liverwurst was heavy, but she could not leave it behind. She did not want to lose everything she had worked so hard for. She did not want to escape decompression only to starve.

An open shaft led out of the tunnel. Rat shoved the liverwurst in. She followed, pushing it along ahead of her. The shaft angled steeply and the liverwurst started to slide. There was too much dust for Rat to get a grip and she slid helplessly behind it. The walls disappeared. A moment in air, then a floor,
thump
—not hard enough to hurt. The liverwurst lay next to her.

Rat felt bigness all around. She was in the forgotten room. It was silent and dark. The sounds of the emergency couldn't be heard here. Though her lungs burned for air, lots of air, Rat forced herself to breathe in tiny, nearly silent sips.

A door whooshed open, the sound dull and distant. Light blazed a narrow wedge through the center of the room. Not near Rat. She stood absolutely still. She planned where she would run. She might have to leave the liverwurst.

Rrriiippp!
A Velcro boot. Rat recognized it.

What was the boy doing here?

Then the sniffer got her.

C
HAPTER
F
OURTEEN

T
HE
R
ESCUE

Jeff pressed the button over and over. But he could not make the elevator go in any faster. He sagged against the wall. There was time to catch his breath; time to think. Only bad thoughts came: What if Nanny … What if Mom and Dad … What if the rat …

The loudspeaker spluttered: “
Emergency! Emergency!
Decompression in Ring Eight section D. Nanny, report for damage control.
Emergency!
”

Yes. Go away. Go help, Jeff thought. Forget the rat.

Jeff had never felt the space station jiggle so sharply or so often. The meteor hits nearly knocked him off his feet as he ran to the elevator. There must be a big hole somewhere, or more than one. Somebody might even be hurt. But Ring 8, section D wasn't anywhere near where his parents worked. It wasn't near the Mid-Ring workshop, either. Good thing, because he'd forgotten the air mask.

The elevator stopped, and its door snapped open. Jeff looked across an unlit corridor as wide as a street. He gagged with his first breath. The air smelled spoiled. Opposite him the elevator cast a square light on a huge door crisscrossed with bands of steel. The sign read:
MID-RING WORKSHOP MAIN ENTRY.
Jeff took a step.

Rrriiipppp.

His knee flew up out of control and knocked against his arm. The gun jerked up and hit him on the chin. He stumbled back into the elevator. The clack of his teeth echoed like a cackle in the vastness.

Stupid!

Jeff ran his tongue over his teeth. Nothing broken. No taste of blood. He should have adjusted his step to the gravity here, but worrying about everything else, he'd forgotten. Mid-Ring had half the gravity of Outer Ring, where Jeff spent most of his time.

Nanny didn't make mistakes. What chance did he have to save the rat, making mistakes like that? But then he remembered: Nanny had been called away.

Jeff stepped out of the elevator again. He kept a stiff leg and walked with a shuffle. Sensing the motion, the lights in the corridor turned on, popping and flickering. Half of them didn't work. Dust swirled all around him.

The elevator door closed, leaving Jeff with the silence. No air fans whirled here. No machinery chirped. Even the sound of the emergency sirens didn't reach this place. Jeff shivered. He didn't like it, but it might be just right for a rat, a rat that needed a place to hide.

He shuffled up to the door. It was three times his height. Steel beams as thick as his waist framed it. Incredibly there was some rust. Because of the air and the robots not knowing …

So Nanny was right, people had been sloppy. He reached for the door's
OPEN
button and hesitated.

Something was wrong.

The silence! No sirens, no announcements. Nanny could not have heard the call. Nanny was still here.

Jeff stabbed the button. The door slid aside, revealing machines, row upon row of them. They spread in all directions, far beyond where the light from the corridor reached. Some were as big as elephants. They cast enormous shadows against the back wall of the workshop.

How would he ever find a rat in there? But there was no time to waste on doubts. He
had
to find it. Jeff hurried over the threshold.

Rrriiippp—SNAP!

The snap sounded like a book being slammed shut.

A scream. Jeff froze in midstride. The scream crescendoed to an agonized shriek that cut off abruptly. He had never heard such a sound in real life, only in horror movies. He felt sick, waiting for more. But the echo faded. The silence came back briefly. Then Jeff heard small sounds he did not understand.

Thump-clatter-scratch-scratch-thump-clatter.

The sounds repeated in a desperate rhythm. Somehow they were more unnerving than the scream had been.

A shrill, mechanical drone overwhelmed them—Nanny's motor. Far, impossibly far away, he saw a green glow sweeping along the back wall. The sounds must be the rat, struggling with a sniffer—
and Nanny was closing in for the kill.

Jeff ran. In the half-gravity each surging step became a giant's stride. He moved like a gazelle, bounding. He did not have to find a path between the machines—he jumped over the smaller ones. He sprang from top to top of the biggest. The half-gravity worked for him now. He was too slow for Nanny in the Outer Ring, but here he had a chance. Wheels could only turn so fast, no matter how weak the gravity.

Jeff landed on the last machine. An open space as wide as a street stretched to the back wall. The light from the door faded here, leaving a murky twilight. To his left the greenish glow moved with the eye burning brightly at the center of it. No other part of Nanny was visible. He could not see the rat. But he heard the struggle off to his right. A minute, maybe two, and the gap would be closed.

Jeff raised the gun and peered in the scope. The target beam flared. He aimed.

“Nanny, stop!” His voice quivered, feeble. It was swallowed by the room. Sweat slicked his palms. Jeff yelled, “Stop! I'll shoot!”

Stop! Stop! Shoot! Shoot!

The words were loud enough this time, but Nanny paid no attention. Jeff pressed the trigger.

Nothing happened.

He did it again and again.

But each time the scope simply flashed:
WRONG TARGET
.

Of course! The gun would only shoot rats. That's what the captain was doing when he programmed it. That's why he told his parents hunting would be perfectly safe.

Nanny's target beam blazed. Jeff saw the rat at the center of the spotlight. The rat lay on its back, the sniffer gripping a rear leg. Blood, black and glistening in the harsh light, stained the sniffer's jaws. It matted the white cuff and flecked the dust in little beads. Ragged trails crisscrossed the dust. Jeff didn't know why, until the rat strained to sit up. Her front paws flailed, trying to grab the sniffer. The rat lashed at the quivering eyestalks with its teeth. The sniffer jerked backward. The rat collapsed and was dragged. The leg twisted. Then the rat tried again, slower, weaker.

A sound surged out of Jeff. He sprang, and in one bound, landed in front of Nanny. He smashed the gun down as hard as he could on the robot's head. The impact felt like flames on his palms and hammers in his bones. Nanny gripped the gun, ripped it from his grasp, and flung it away.

Jeff stood half bent, hugging his hands tight against his ribs. The terrible sounds were right behind him, feebler now. Jeff shouted, “Make it let go!”

“Naughty boy! Get out of the way.”

“No! You've got to stop. They're calling. Orders.”

“I have my orders.”

“There's an
emergency
”

The green eye blazed. “I will kill the rat
first
!”

Nanny surged. An arm jabbed, then swung sideways. Jeff dodged. Too slow. It hit him in the ribs, swept him into the air. He hit the wall. His legs crumpled under him.

“
Ow!
Oh! Ow!”

Jeff pushed against the floor to lift his weight off his harshly twisted legs, the searing blister. His left hand touched something cold and rubbery. What?

Nanny asked, “You are hurt?”

“
You
hurt me!”

“Nanny cannot hurt the boy. Nanny protects. Orders.” Nanny moved toward him, hesitated—just like it had when he forgot his air mask. He couldn't outfight Nanny, but maybe he could outthink it.

Nanny's eye swiveled to look at the rat. “Priority. Kill the rat.”

The rat lay still, front paws splayed to the sides, mouth slack. It breathed, and Jeff acted.

“Oh my leg! My leg! It's broken. Nanny, help, I need help!”

“Decision. Decision.” Nanny looked at Jeff. Nanny looked at the rat. Back and forth, regular as a pendulum in an old clock.

At last, power over Nanny. But for how long? Time enough to escape with the rat?

Jeff almost got up, then realized that would show Nanny he'd lied. But if Nanny couldn't see …

His hand slid toward the liverwurst, gripped it. When the head glanced away, he lunged and rammed the liverwurst into Nanny's eye. The tube popped. The greasy meat squished between Jeff's fingers as his full weight crashed into Nanny. They went skidding along the floor, a tangle of arms and grippers. Nanny whirled, flinging Jeff into the dust. Then Nanny veered. Nanny bumped into the wall, jittered backward, bumped the wall again. Grippers swiped at the liverwurst.

“Naughty boy! Naughty boy! Naaauuuu—”

There was a pop deep inside Nanny. Electricity arced like swamp lightning all over the black body. Nanny stopped and did not move again.

C
HAPTER
F
IFTEEN

R
OUGH
B
EGINNINGS

When Nanny threw the boy into the air, Rat gave up. She would die. The boy had done his best, but he was only a boy. It felt peaceful to accept her fate. But while she lay there, something more happened. She was not sure what, because she had closed her eyes. She heard a loud pop. She tried to lift her head to see, but that was beyond her strength now. Still she needed to pay attention. Everything was suddenly quiet. Something important had happened.

Even though it would twist her leg, Rat rolled. What an effort that took! It seemed the struggle had taken all the roundness out of her body. But she succeeded. Her leg did not twist. She looked back along her body. For a second Rat stared at the sniffer's bloody jaws gaping like a dead clam. She almost did not understand that she was free.

Her body knew. Up! Move!

Rat found herself on three legs. She wobbled, almost fell, then turned the stumble into motion. Keep going! Rat did not feel any pain, just the heaviness of her useless leg dragging in the dust.

“Don't go! Hey, stop! I can help!”

Rat's legs would not stop. Rat was deep down in her ancient brain seeking darkness, wanting aloneness, searching for a little hole.

“Please! Your message. I got it. I won't hurt you!”

Rat looked back over her shoulder. The boy glittered in his silver jumpsuit. His arms were stretched out to her. One hand was covered with brown splotches. More brown was smeared along his leg.

Messy boy!

The friendly thought broke the urge to flee. Rat sagged into the dust. The boy approached. Panic threatened. Rat had vowed never to let human hands touch her again.…

Rat smelled liverwurst. But the boy does not like liverwurst. Why was he messy with her liverwurst?

The boy knelt beside her. He did not touch Rat right away. He just looked, his hands resting in his lap. Rat remembered how carefully the boy tended his own blister. His face was full of concern. His clean hand moved toward her.

Let him. Rat fought the urge to bite him. Let him.

The boy stroked Rat very lightly from the tip of her nose to the top of her head. The boy's gentleness unnerved Rat. Her heart surrendered to his touch. With that relaxation the pain came so strongly that Rat lost all awareness of what happened next.

Rat smelled the boy. Not the boy himself, but the boy smell that stayed in his clothes.

Clever boy. He had put Rat in his laundry drawer. Just the safe place she would have picked. Rat stayed curled tight, eyes closed. She could come back to the world slowly, cozy on a used T-shirt.

Rat smelled medicine and tape and bandage. She opened her eyes and looked at her leg. The injured leg did not fit in the close hug of the rest of her body. That was because something stiff was wrapped in with the bandage. She sniffed the end that poked out. It smelled of wood and coffee and the boy. It kept Rat from moving the leg. She did not like that, but there was no pain—amazing after such a terrible thing! She decided to trust the boy. She could always chew the bandage off later.

Rat uncurled and lay on her side. She stretched. Many muscles hurt, but the stretch felt good. She groomed her whiskers, then sniffed—hard, harder. Something was not right!

Fresh air flowed
down
onto Rat in a tiny stream. Rat looked up. Only a body's length above her was a lid with holes poked in it. Rat twisted onto her paws. The bandaged leg made her rump go lopsided.

Rat saw a rat!

Rat startled. It startled.

That rat
was
Rat, reflected in the clear plastic side of a box. Beyond the reflection Rat saw the boy's room.