There were no rats.

If there were any still aboard, they would be here. They liked to huddle near the warmth of the heat exchangers foraging amongst the cold stores and dry silos.

Gar had shown Dru the way through the maze of ducts and narrow cavities. It had taken them nearly an hour to reach it, climbing through spaces that would have trapped a Grownup.

That time, there had been a hoard of rats scurrying along the walls or flinging themselves across the gaps, using their tails as a counter-balance in the microgravity. Who knew that rats could work out how to fly?

Dru had hovered open-mouthed watching them from behind the safety glass of Brown Sector. Gar had laughed when he'd seen his reaction and teased him for weeks afterwards. His mother had been less gentle: the climb left him filthy and she had scolded him before handing him off to his father to administer the corporal reminder of his foolhardiness.

He'd visited the rats often after that, always in the suit he had pilfered. The rats were special to him. He'd watch them for hours and had managed to identify and name twenty of them. He liked how they functioned in groups - little families - working against the others. Defending and caring, everyone looking out for the members of their clan. None left behind and all.

He'd even taken Meri with him once. It had taken him nearly a week to steal a suit in her size and another day to find something to protect Chocolate. She refused to leave it behind.

However, she'd screamed and fled as soon as she saw the rats. He had to give up his last bar of chocolate to calm her down. His younger sister loved chocolate – both kinds.

Even then, she had called the rats horrid and beastly - just like him! He couldn't understand her reaction. Maybe he should have warned her before, but he wanted to surprise her so they could share it together.

Every time he was down here, he wanted to slip beyond the locked door and touch the rats. He had even dreamt once that he was their Lord and they would bring him food and huddle next to him at night to keep him warm. However, Gar had told him it was too dangerous, that the rats would attack him and then gobble up his corpse. He never got up the courage to open the door by himself. Until now, and by then the rats were all gone.

There had been rats in places other than the Hub of course. They were in every Habitat and ship across the system. There were rumours that the Di Ren had modified the ones aboard their vessels to work for them, cleaning refuse from the gel and even carrying little packages on their backs. That's what Gar had told him.

There were mice, rats, cockroaches and spiders everywhere, a lasting legacy from the planet-born days. At least there used to be. The Grownups had flooded the Rim with gas and purged all the critters. The rats near the Rim had always been hard to find. They would constantly move and hide in the darkest places, scampering away as soon as they heard him approach. Unlike the ones in the Hub, their lives were constantly under threat: lights all over the place and people everywhere. He understood their fear well. Now he had become like them: hiding in the shadows and hurrying away as soon as he heard even the hint of someone approaching.

He drifted through the doorway. Abandoned long ago, the chamber had been one of the auxiliary cargo holds. That's why the rats had flourished undisturbed. It was located in the bowels of the Habitat. There was no reason for the Grownups to come down here. There weren't enough supplies to fill even the primary holds.

Dru scanned slowly, his lantern barely reaching the pitted, yellow wall. There was no indication that the rats had ever been there. Their nests were all gone and so was the pile of refuse they had gathered in the middle of the metallic, green floor. Somebody had beaten him down here. The place was dead.

Although he had overheard his parents complaining about how closely the Navy were policing the rationing, he assumed the rats would be safe down here. Nobody knew about them except Gar, Meri and himself.

Even with his freedom heavily curtailed, Dru still managed to sneak one last momentary visit. That last image of their scampering and flying forms had kept him going through the following months. He had learnt so much from the rats: loyalty; honour; teamwork. It kept him focused and hopeful throughout the Internment. Now they were all gone.

Dru gazed around. The chamber was much larger than he had imagined viewing it through the tiny window. The small lamps dotted across on the red-coloured ceiling hadn't provided much light, just enough to see the rats. Apart from the narrow beam provided by his lantern, now darkness enveloped the chamber. It was also oppressively silent. Even his breathing sounded muffled.

He'd never been anywhere this quiet before. Even in the most isolated parts of the Habitat, there was a constant hum or the distant fluidic gurgle. Here, there was nothing. He half-expected to turn around to see some ghastly shadow creature creeping up behind him.

He refused to let himself become upset. Crying was for babies. The rats were gone. He needed to deal with that fact.

Instead, he blew the snot from where it had congealed on the inside of his nose. He was immediately greeted by the faint smell of cleaning agent. He'd mostly gotten used to the runny nose by now. It was just one of the inconveniences of being in microgravity for so long. With no gravity to draw it down into the philtrum, the snot froze where it formed.

The first time Dru tried to clear his nose; he had tumbled backwards, slamming his helmet into the wall behind him. This time however, he used the momentum to gently float up toward the curved ceiling.

There was a ledge, high up. The rats had used it to travel to and from the main stores.

Even under rotation, the Hub had only ever had weak centrifugal gravity. That meant that the rats could get into places down here that would have been impossible near the Rim or even the Spokes. He reached into the shadow cast by his light and found what he was seeking almost immediately. Whoever cleaned this must have been in a hurry.

He looked down at the dark grey pellets in his gloved hand. They were frozen like everything else in the room. A week ago, he would have gagged at the thought, but he barely hesitated before popping them into his mouth.

It was the first food he'd taken in days.