Chief Francis Ethelbert Sharkey frowned. The large orange pumpkin in front of him was slightly mishaped, and he had been trying to decide which side to carve into a jack-o-lantern. At the same table, senior ratings Patterson and Kowalski had long since finished their own carvings and sat watching the Chief with pitying looks. Slowly shaking his head, Patterson said, "Mind's the first thing to go, 'Ski."
"Yeah, Pat, poor old guy has lost it. Hey, Chief, why don't you carve a turkey on that thing? It'll be Thanksgiving before you're done, anyway."
Sharkey ignored the taunts, having finally decided that he could incorporate the large bump on one side into the final design. "All right, you knotheads, you just sit back and watch a master at work."
With the knife poised for the first crucial incision, Sharkey was distracted by a flutter at the edge of his sight. He turned his head to see a rat scurrying along the baseboard. Involuntarily, he jumped at least a foot high. "Geesh, a rat!!"
Patterson and Kowalski also reacted. "Didja see the size of that sucker? Get a broom." Sharkey threw his knife at it, but it missed and clattered away. The rat ran under a bank of personal lockers, and when the men hesitatingly got down and looked, it was gone.
The three shipmates stood in shock, looking at each other. "Maybe it was a lab rat?" said Patterson tentatively.
Sharkey replied, "The admiral only uses white rats, you know that, Pat. That thing was a wharf rat. I've seen 'em before on other ships, but I never thought I'd see one on Seaview."
"Yeah, well, Chief, who you gonna report this too?" Kowalski asked.
Sharkey calculated. Which of the senior staff was least likely to go ballastic? Morton would have a heart attack, Crane would burst a blood vessel, and Nelson, well Nelson was as likely to kill the messenger as anything else. "I'm not going to report it, and neither are either of you. We're gonna catch that vermin and get it off the boat before anyone else finds out."
"Chief...."
"Aw, c'mon, Chief! How you gonna keep a rat hunt quiet on THIS boat? The Exec will know something is up the minute we leave this room."
"Yeah, Chief, and you've said yourself that the skipper is psychic when it comes to problems with the boat."
"Okay, you boneheads, you wanna tell the Skipper that there is vermin on his boat, you be my guest, but I for one wanna live to a ripe old age."
Put that way, Pat and 'Ski quickly agreed to help the Chief catch the offending rodent. The three men, armed with crowbars, went down the line of lockers, opening each, and checking for telltale movement. Crowbars raised, they converged on the last possible hiding place. Sharkey pulled open the door, and sure enough the large brown rat scurried out. With cries of 'get 'im', all three men crowded in, resulting in a tangle of arms and legs and crowbars, and the rat running past unmolested. Before the hapless ratkillers could untangle themselves, the corridor door opened to admit Seaman Riley, and the rat took advantage and escaped out into the passageway. Riley, who didn't notice the rat, backed away with wide eyes from the three angry men wielding crowbars.
"What? What did I do?"
Without a sound the three men shoved past the bewildered Riley, and ran out into the corridor. Looking wildly in both directions, Patterson cried out, "There!" And the Chief and 'Ski looked just in time to see a long hairless tail disappear around a corner.
Sharkey held up a hand, and in a low voice, said, "Easy, men. We'll sneak up on it." The ratkillers tiptoed down the corridor, and Chief Sharkey held a finger to his lips, and carefully peeked around the corner. His blood ran cold when he saw the rat cautiously advancing up the passageway, approaching Lt. Cmdr. Chip Morton who was working in a circuitry panel on the corridor wall. Sharkey watched as the rat advanced. Morton so far had not noticed the rodent within ten feet of his shoes. Sharkey pulled his head back around the corner when he thought his heart could take no more.
Pat and 'Ski looked at him questioningly. In a whisper he explained the problem, then said, "Patterson, you go down the corridor, and distract the Exec. 'Ski, you and I will wait 'til Patterson has the Exec's attention, then we will just walk on past."
Patterson had paled, "Chief, how? How am I supposed to distract Mr. Morton?"
"I dunno, kid, but whatever you do don't let him look down. Now get out there!" Sharkey shoved the reluctant seaman out into the corridor. Sharkey and 'Ski heard the Exec call out, "Patterson, I sent Riley for that crowbar ten minutes ago. Get down here, I haven't got all day."
With a glance at the Chief, Patterson trotted down the passageway. "Sorry, Sir. Can I help?" The Exec's reply was muffled as he stuck his head into the circuitry panel. Sharkey and 'Ski, casually came around the corner and stopped dead. Unseen by Morton, Patterson was kicking at the rat, which appeared to be mesmerized by the shine on Cmdr. Morton's shoes. Patterson could not get close enough to make contact without alerting the Exec, and as Sharkey and 'Ski watched, the little horror actually put a paw on the shiny shoe. Chief Sharkey could tell by the rat's movement that it was thinking of climbing.
With a wordless shout, he bolted down the hallway and swung the crowbar, just as Mr. Morton jumped at the commotion. The inevitable result was the Chief and Exec going down. The rat scurried away.
"Chief!!! What in blazes are you DOING?" The Exec roared.
"Sorry, sir, tripped. Won't happen again, Sir. C'mon 'Ski, we're needed in the..... uh ..... reactor room."
Morton climbed to his feet and stared in amazement as the Chief and 'Ski hurried down the corridor. Patterson sidled away, but Morton pinned him with a sardonic look, "Where do you think you're going? Brace the crowbar in here against this."
Patterson, with relief said, "Aye, Sir."
In the meantime, the would-be ratkillers cornered their prey in a stairwell two corridors away. It hunched on it's hindquarters screeing defiance at it's pursuers.
"All right, 'Ski, here's what we're gonna do. I'm gonna bash it, you stay back in case I miss. Don't let it get past you!"
"Don't worry about me, Chief, you just go ahead and nail it."
Chief Sharkey was actually a peaceable fellow, and generally chose a 'live and let live' philosophy, but as he approached the rat, his eyes were hard, unforgiving. He had no tolerance for imperfection where the Seaview was concerned, and this animal had crossed the line where the Chief's sympathies were concerned. He swung the crowbar high, and brought it down with a resounding crash.
The rat, like something supernatural from a cheesy horror film, leapt aside at the last moment. Then, to the horror of both men, ran up the crowbar and Sharkey's arm. The Chief immediately began to scream and dance around, "Get it off! Get it off!"
Kowalski who was no less startled by this turn of events, caught himself just before he swung his crowbar at the rat climbing up the Chief's back, and instead tried to brush the rodent off with his hand. The Chief however, was still jittering around and 'Ski was unsuccessful. The rat leapt from the Chief's head, and landed halfway up the staircase and was off again, up the stairs and away. Both men paused, hyperventilating. "Chief, that was no normal rat!"
Sharkey was enraged, the little so-and-so was making a fool of him. And in front of Kowalski, a man whose respect was hard to earn. "Normal or not, that is one dead rat. C'mon."
Sharkey set off up the stairs. There was no sign of their quarry, and the only opening was the one leading into the control room. Determined, Sharkey marched down the short passageway. When he reached the curtained doorway, he paused, listening for any sign of commotion. Only the sounds of normal shipboard activity reached him. Holding up a hand to stop Kowalski, he stepped through the curtain and looked around. No sign of the rat. Captain Crane was at the chart table along with Lt. O'Brien involved in plotting a course. With a sinking feeling, Sharkey quietly moved to the other side of the plot board, certain that he would see the little monster by the Captain's feet.
He breathed a sigh of relief when his fear was not confirmed. He glanced behind him into the radio shack and almost dropped the crowbar. Not five feet away, perched on the back of the radio operator's chair, sat the rat, watching him. Only Sparks' habit of hunching forward prevented the rat from stepping across onto the lieutenant's shoulder.
Sharkey was stunned. What kind of rat was this, anyway? A dead one, he reminded himself firmly. He wasn't quite sure how to handle this. He didn't want to risk injury to Sparks, and he really, really didn't want to capture the Captain's attention. The rat just sat there, as if it understood the Chief's dilemma. Sharkey's anger grew. It was as if the damn thing was mocking him. Well, he'd fix that! He reached out with the crowbar to poke at it, making sure he held the metal bar at an angle to prevent the rat from running up it. A good hard poke and the rat fell from it's perch. Sparks looked around, and eyes widening, drew a deep breath to sound the alarm.
Years of dealing with young sailors had taught Sharkey how to quell an outburst with a hard look. He'd never used it on an officer before, and was surprised and gratified when it worked. Sparks stood swallowing, his handsome face reflecting his loathing. But he made no sound. Sharkey gave him a curt nod, and went back out into the corridor, where he ran directly into Kowalski, who was standing right beyond the curtain.
"Didja get it?"
"What...? No, did it come out this way? Geez, Chief, I was so busy listening, I didn't see it."
"That's okay, Kid. That rat, it must be some kinda genius rat. It climbed up Sparks' chair, and just sat there thumbing it's rotten little nose at me. But I'll be damned if any rat is gonna get the better of me. Let's go."
The two increasingly grim men strode down the passageway to the stairwell landing. At the foot of the stairs, the rat hunched, watching. When it saw it's enemies, it danced over to the wall and casually sprayed urine. With a wordless yell of rage, Sharkey flew down the stairs. The rat scampered away up the corridor, but this time, it had gone too far. Sharkey heaved the heavy crowbar after the escaping rodent, and it crashed into the rat, which without a squeak or cry, died.
Sharkey and Kowalski stood there, half disbelieving. They looked at each other, and started to laugh. Sharkey walked over, picked up the crowbar and poked the rat to make sure, but there was no movement. Kowalski reached down and gingerly picked the rat up by the tail. "Now what?"
With a rueful smile, Sharkey said, "I dunno, Kid, maybe we should have it stuffed and mounted. It was harder to bring down than any deer I ever hunted."
"Okay, Chief, here ya go." Kowalski made as if to give the defunct rat to him.
With a shudder, Sharkey said, "No, that's okay. Let's take it down to the pressure hatch."
The two triumphant rat killers started down the corridor when the intercom came to life. Admiral Nelson's gruff voice rang out. "Attention all crewmembers. A very important laboratory animal has escaped. It is vital that it be captured alive. Several months work is tied up in this animal, and I want it back. All offduty personnel report to the Exec for assignment to search details. You are looking for a brown lab rat. It can be identified by the two fine wires protruding from it's head. Chief Sharkey, please report to my quarters."
Sharkey felt sick. With his eyes tightly closed, he spoke, "Ski."
"Yeah?" said the equally sick Kowalski.
"Do my a favor, wouldja?"
"Sure, Chief, what can I do for you?"
"Ski, I want you to look at that rat. Does it have wires comin' out it's head?"
"Yeah, Chief, it sure does."
"Yeah. Yeah, that's what I thought."
"What are we gonna do, Chief?"
"Do? I'm gonna do what I was ordered to do. I'm gonna report to the Admiral."
"What about the rat?"
It was tempting. The pressure hatch was just a few compartments away. The evidence could be disposed of with no one the wiser. Kowalski would never tell. With a sigh, Sharkey extended his hand. Without a word, 'Ski handed him the offending rodent.
Holding with two fingers by the tail, as far from his body as he could, Chief Francis Sharkey marched away to face his doom. When he reached Admiral Nelson's cabin, he stood for a moment collecting his nerve. He rapped twice on the door, and opened it when the Admiral ordered 'Come'.
Admiral Nelson sat at his desk, writing. Swallowing hard, Sharkey walked over and gently laid the dead rat on the desk. Nelson looked up, and just stared. After a moment, he poked the rodent with his pen and called "Teddy?"
Sharkey immediately started in. "Admiral, I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't know it was a lab rat. I just saw what looked like a wharf rat, and. . . .Sir?"
The Admiral had put his head down on his desk, and his shoulders heaved with sobs. Sharkey was stricken. "Sir! I. . .I don't know what to say, Sir. Please, Admiral, say something!"
Never raising his head, Nelson ordered Sharkey out. Dejected, the Chief left. Eventually the Admiral looked up, and wiped tears of mirth from his eyes. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen anything as funny as Chief Sharkey chasing that rat. From a drawer, he pulled out the remote control device with which he had controlled the mechanical rat. It was amazing how lifelike the little robot was. When Jiggs Starke had first suggested that he test it, he had balked. It was a spy device, pure and simple, and had no function on a research vessel. But Jiggs had insisted. He suggested with adolescent glee that Harry let his hair down and 'peek up a few skirts'. Nelson had virtuously said he would do nothing of the sort, but once he started, he couldn't help himself and he had led the Chief a merry chase. He picked up the rat. Just as he thought. No real damage, the crowbar had apparently hit the offswitch. He turned it on, and the rat sat up on its little hindlegs, and looked at the Admiral as if awaiting instructions. Nelson looked at it, and regretfully reached for the remote control to shut it down. As his finger caressed the off button, a thought occurred to him. I wonder if I could get it to run up Lee's leg. His finger left the off button unmolested.