Let’s Circle Back

Zanna Sharpe has seven minutes before she changes history, but first, she has to save a rat.

Save, of course, being a relative word, and one whose nuances are lost on the rat as it tries to wriggle free from her grasp. Zanna picks up a high-heeled trot through the chrome-plated elevator lobby and slams her bent elbow into the button to call the cabin, hissing through her teeth at the jolt of pain that spasms up her arm at the impact. The little white rat hisses, too.

“I’m sorry, god!” Zanna whispers, tapping her heel beneath her floor-length green dress. The elevators are empty now, all the press and shareholders having already filtered into the 30th floor ballroom for the tech demo, but it still takes time for the cabin to shoot up from the basement. “It’s your fault for hitching a ride. You know you’re not supposed to be up here.”

The rat, offended, nips at her cuticles.

“Motherfu—”

The elevator dings, its shiny doors opening wide, and Zanna darts inside. With her still-smarting elbow, she presses the button for LL — Lower Laboratories — before leaning back against the smooth glass interior with a heavy sigh, holding the rat at arm’s length. Its beady red eyes boggle back at her, as if this is an adventure, not a barbed-wire hurdle on the path to the most important night of Zanna’s life.

“I’m sure this is fun for you,” Zanna muses breathlessly, nudging the rat’s tiny cheek with the pad of her finger. “Free from your cage, out in the big, wide world…”

The rat wiggles its pink paws, fleshy tail lashing and curling, as if to say, I’m not free anymore, thanks to you.

“I know. But it’ll happen soon. Maybe not for you, but for your brothers and sisters… or their children, or their children’s children…”

The elevator chimes its way down the floors — 23, 22, 21 — and Zanna tucks her arms close, nestling the poor rat against her chest.

“Little sacrifices. But we’ll get there.”