Space Station Rat Read online

  “Robots don’t tell fibs,” Mom said.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Nanny chirped.

  More chirps. But these came from Mom’s beeper. She dropped the report, snatching the beeper from her belt to read the message.

  “A development!” she said. Mom and Dad strode toward the door. They didn’t run. They couldn’t run. A fast waddle was tops. They hadn’t taken the time to learn.

  “Study time,” Nanny said.

  Jeff turned on the robot. “They should believe me!”

  The glowing green eye stared at him.

  “Study time.”

  “Not yet!”

  Jeff leaped onto the couches and chairs, scattered cushions onto the floor, pushed magazines off the tables, and ripped up the sunspot photograph. Then he ran out of the room.

  Nanny’s head rotated all the way around.

  “Dear dear dear.”

  Gobblers came out of the ceiling. They put everything back in order. They sucked up Nanny’s papers. But they left the torn bits of photograph because Nanny told them to.

  CHAPTER THREE

  STUDY TIME

  Rat was on time. So where was the boy? Rat did not like the boy to waste study time. Rat needed to learn a lot to survive on the space station.

  She had already learned how lucky she was to be alive. The roar and the squeezing and the floating had been the blastoff of a space shuttle. The enormous open space, with men and nosy robots scurrying and the huge ship hissing in the center of it, had been the landing area of the space station. A very dangerous place for Rat. But she escaped. She found the air tunnels, like the one she was in now. It ended at a vent near the ceiling above the boy’s bed. Perfect for observing.

  At first Rat thought she could just go back to Earth. But the boy studied space shuttles. Scary things. There was only one safe place to be. The crate she hid in had been put in that part. If it had gone with the regular cargo … well, Rat would be a dead rat. Going back would be complicated. She could not be half-starved and hope to succeed. Besides, there had to be a ship. None had come here since the one bringing her crate and the boy.

  Where was he?

  Patience, Rat told herself. The boy’s bad habits often meant food.

  Food would be nice.

  Rat sat up on her back legs, kinking her tail just right for balance. She groomed her elegant nose whiskers, then licked between her clean, pink toes. Not even a bit of sticky apple juice was left. Rat’s front paws drooped. She swayed, nearly tumbling, as her tail went limp. Rat snapped herself to attention.

  Bother! She rubbed her pink knuckles hard over her eyes. Do something!

  Rat checked the telescope. The telescope let her see across the room to the computer screen. The boy slouched when he studied, so his big head was not in the way. Another bad habit that was lucky for Rat.

  Rat had built the telescope from two lenses, a toilet-paper tube, and some gum the boy had stuck under a table. They blamed the boy for the missing lenses. Too bad.

  But it had not been the boy who had left half a bologna sandwich in the lab that day, right next to the lenses. What a double lucky day that had been! Rat remembered the tangy taste of mustard—how it made her nose tingle!—and the bread, crusty on the outside, wet-mushy inside, and the meat! The meat!

  Rat sniffed hard, trying to bring back all the good smells. But it had been a long time ago.

  She checked the aim of the telescope, then gave it a small nudge. When she peered in again, a shadow flashed by, a door slammed, and bed springs jounced. Rat pulled away from the grate. She must not let her nose, or a whisker, or the tip of her tail poke out because the boy often returned from family time upset. He would lie on the bed right beneath the vent, his arms jammed under his head, staring at the ceiling with angry, intense eyes.

  There was a knock on the door.

  “Go away!” Despite the boy’s command, the door opened. Rat smelled still-warm, bittersweet, chewy chocolate chips. Crumbs!

  “It is study time,” Nanny said. “I have some milk and cookies for you.”

  “Go away!”

  “I am not programmed to go away,” Nanny said. “I am programmed to bring you milk and cookies at study time and tell you what lesson—”

  “Oh, enough already.” Boots thumped on the floor and scritched to the door. Rat peeked. The boy snatched the tray from Nanny. The milk sloshed, and a few cookies slipped off and broke on the deck. A tidal wave of more intense smells rolled into the air vent.

  “Hasty hasty,” Nanny said.

  A small gobbler popped out of a wall tube in the corridor. It skittered around Nanny’s rollers, sucking up the spots of milk and crunching the crumbs, leaving a neat line of crumbs just inside the door. It did not come into the room. Except in an emergency, robots were not allowed in private spaces, not even Nanny.

  Nanny said, “Study the food machines today. Then you will understand why you should not spill your milk.”

  Nanny shut the door.

  Yes, thought Rat, yes yes yes. Study the wicked machines! Study now!

  But the boy did not study. He carried the tray to the computer table. He ate some cookies. Rat watched where every crumb fell. The boy played a game. Then he checked his e-mail. No mail. He used to get e-mail. But one by one his friends stopped writing when something called “camp” got them. At first the boy lied about his wonderful adventures on the space station. Later he admitted that he wished he was at camp with them instead.

  Rat wanted to be somewhere else, too.

  Study!

  Keys clicked. Rat went to the telescope. She gnashed her teeth. It was only the EVA Training Manual. He studied that over and over. But what good was it to Rat?

  “Oh, what’s the use?” The boy moaned and laid his head down on the desk.

  Rat wanted to jump down and bite him! She wanted to use some of the scientists’ tools on him. The nice ones, or the nasty ones, she didn’t care. Just so she could make him study.

  Rat ran far back into the air vent. She found a big, thick, black wire. Chew-chew-chew. Black bits piled up around her like chocolate chips. She felt a tingle in her teeth. She felt a tickle in her nose. She smelled copper wire. Rat made herself stop chewing. She picked black bits off her whiskers and groomed them out of her fur. Then she went back to her telescope.

  The boy was gone for exercise time. Rat removed the plastic clips and pushed against the grate. For a second Rat clung to the outside of the grate, pretending: I am a gobbler!

  Then she dropped onto the bed.

  Rat feasted. She ate all the crumbs first. Then she drank milk until she sloshed. What a prize, this wet, warmish milk! Today, at least, Rat would not have to lick ice off the air-conditioning coils. That hurt her tongue, but she hadn’t found water anywhere else.

  Three whole cookies were left on the tray by the computer. She carried them into the air vent for later. Tricky, not to bite the cookies too hard. At least the climb to the vent was easy—up book shelves and cubbies stacked like steps. Before taking the last cookie, she studied the computer screen.

  SORRY, NO MAIL.

  Rat wished she could find the lesson, but there was a password that only the boy knew. Only the boy, studying, could help her learn. The scientists had taught Rat a lot about computers, but she escaped before learning how to hack passwords.

  Rat looked at the message again.

  SORRY, NO MAIL.

  She could change that!

  Rat jumped onto the keyboard. Using all four paws and her tail, she danced on the slightly sticky keys. She wrote a macro virus and put it in the e-mail start-up routine. Now she could type e-mails that looked like they came from Earth.

  Why did she know how to do this? The scientists never completely explained. Sometimes they mentioned stealing information, plans, formulas. Sometimes they spoke about destroying these things. Services required by the client. Her training had not progressed far enough for her to need the details.

  She was her own client now.<
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  But she could not simply ask about the food machines. She needed a trick. Rat thought a moment, then began her first message. When she was done, the screen read:

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: Pen Pal

  Hi! I am looking for a pen pal who lives in an unusual place. Your address seems unusual. Do you live in an unusual place? Are you looking for a pen pal? Write back.

  P.S. Do you like peanut butter???

  CHAPTER FOUR

  PEN PALS

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: Re: Pen Pal

  YES! and YES!

  YES! I live on a space station. How’s that for unusual? YES! I want a pen pal. Do you really want me for a pen pal? I hope a space station is unusual enough. Please write back right away!!!!!!!

  And oh YES!!! I love peanut butter, chunky.

  The boy clicked SEND. He jumped out of his chair as if he’d launched a rocket. He whooped and danced around the room. When he sat back down, he played games. He jiggled. He checked his e-mail every ten minutes. Rat could only answer when the boy went away. She watched all this foolishness with a slow, tense grinding of her front teeth.

  Study! Rat could wish, but it was not going to be as easy as that.

  Eventually the boy would go to bed right under the air vent. When? Rat did not bother to wait. She curled up next to the telescope. It was not as comfortable as her nest, not as secret, not as safe. But Rat must be here when the boy went away to breakfast.

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: Re: Pen Pal

  A space station is very unusual. What is it like? Do you walk on the ceiling? What do you eat? I’m glad you want a pen pal.

  The boy came back from breakfast. He carried a plate of crackers with peanut butter on them. He munched them while he typed. Rat hoped he would not eat all the crackers.

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: YOU WROTE BACK!!!!!

  Hi again. You took so long. I worried I flunked unusual. We walk on the floor. Deck, we call it. The space station is like a big doughnut. There are ten rings around the center. I live on #9. I guess if the station was on Earth, you’d think we walked on the walls. But there is no down or up here. We have in and out. Because of the spin. Have you ever spun a rope with a knot on the end? That’s fake gravity. My mom says, “The earth hugs you, but a space station catches you.” It’s not as nice as real gravity. What’s your name?

  That explains a lot, Rat thought. The scientists put animals into a spinning machine in the laboratory. Not Rat, though. The machine was noisy. It often made them sick. Now she lived in a spinning machine! No wonder her first days were full of bad bumps, as if her legs forgot how to walk. And her tail moved in so many strange, new ways.

  The boy left for morning exercises. As Rat dropped from the vent, she thought, I am not going down, I am going out. Rat ate the last cracker and licked the plate clean. She typed:

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: Re: YOU WROTE BACK!!!!!

  I am slow writing. Don’t worry if answers take time. I am your pen pal now. But are we really spinning on the end of a rope? Isn’t that noisy? Don’t you get sick? I love Swiss cheese. Can you get that in space?

  The peanut butter made her thirsty. Too bad there was no milk. Rat went to find some ice to lick. The boy had come and gone by the time Rat returned.

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: no rope

  Silly! There is no rope. That was an analogy. And there can’t be noise in space. Outside is a vacuum—just black without air. Sometimes I worry about the black getting in. This place is so old, it creaks!!

  I have a space suit. I know how to put it on. It’s like trying to get into two snowsuits at once! My dad and I are going to do a space walk sometime.

  Hey! Do you have snow where you live? I used to go sledding all the time.

  You forgot to say your name.

  The boy forgot to answer about Swiss cheese, too. But he brought a cheese sandwich the next time he checked his mail, so Rat did get her answer.

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: no snow

  Sledding sounds fun. Creaking is scary. I don’t have a space suit or a snowsuit. I have never been outside in all my life. I want to feel grass between my toes someday.

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: WEIRD!

  How come you’ve never been outdoors? Are you in prison? Is that why you won’t tell me your name? I don’t think I can write anymore if you are in prison.

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: Re: WEIRD!

  I am not in prison. I am free. I am unusual, that’s all. Please keep writing. I like having a pen pal.

  My favorite food is liverwurst.

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: sorry

  Liverwurst—yuck! Chocolate for me!

  Sorry I made you mad. I like having a pen pal, too. Here is my picture. Can you send me your picture?

  Rat did not need the boy’s picture. She could see him in person, with chocolate smeared on his face. Rat relaxed. She had not been careful. She had told too much truth. But the boy was willing to ignore the strangeness. Lucky for Rat.

  When Nanny took the boy to family time, Rat went to work with the painting program on the computer. She mixed Windsor violet, cobalt blue, and alizarin crimson in a square color block. She pressed her paw against the screen, comparing the color of her fur to the square. It needed some lemon yellow. She adjusted the tint and hue, and added a little Payne’s gray. Good enough. Too bad she did not know how to capture the wonderful sheen of the living hairs. She pasted the color square in a new e-mail and typed:

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: no picture

  I cannot send my picture. But I am very beautiful. I have a lavender coat with white cuffs. Here is how it looks.

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: Are you a girl?

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: no

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: silly

  Well, boys aren’t beautiful, silly. Boys are handsome.

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: maybe

  Maybe. But I am beautiful!

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: FAT

  You should see the captain. He’s not handsome or beautiful. He’s fat! I’ll never get fat. I have to exercise four times a day. No one else has to. I am in the way, that’s why. They would keep me in the gym all day if they could! Remember in and out? All the way in, at the very center, there’s no gravity. The zero-g room is there. I can fly and do all kinds of flips and things. It’s like bouncing off a trampoline, but you never come down!! I would stay in the zero-g room all day, but NO, that’s not allowed. Too much fun!

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: scientists are not nice

  Scientists are not nice. I speak from experience.

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: Re: scientists are not nice

  I agree! I was trying to play chess (do you?) with my dad today. Mom kept bothering him with p factors and 1q angles, then he moved his knight wrong! He thought
I cheated!

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: knights

  I never move my knight wrong.

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: let’s play!

  Let’s set up a remote game! That’d be fun. Of course, best fun if you visited.

  We could have fun here, I think. This is an old space station. It is like a big house with dozens and dozens of rooms. Bits stick way out from center, like towers.

  I’m not allowed to go exploring. Many places have not been used, like forever. The lights don’t work. Some don’t have air anymore. I just know it would be fun to go exploring. Maybe if you came, they’d let us go together.

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: things we could do

  We could find where the food is grown. Maybe there would be grass.

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: no grass

  We don’t grow food here. I’m not sure where it comes from, but it is not grown. I will find out for you. Sorry about the grass.

  Rat pressed her eye more tightly to the telescope. The tip of her tail quivered. The boy sent his e-mail, then called up the study program. At last! The secrets of the food machines appeared on the screen.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  RAT MAKES A MISTAKE

  Rat was fat. She could not reach an itch at the bottom of her tail. She rubbed the itchy spot against the warm pipe, then sat down to groom her big, round belly. There were crumbs scattered around Rat. Imagine! Too full to eat every crumb! Rat liked that.

  Rat was in her nest in one of the forgotten parts of the space station. It was dim and musty-smelling and safe. There was the nice warm pipe, and even some dust. Every once in a while, something made a sound. Pffss-sit! It sounded just like when the scientists opened a bottle of fizzy water. But otherwise, it was quiet. Rat did not like the sound. However, she appreciated it. It reminded her—stay alert.