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The cargo ship, Hail Proton, was docked in Lomé, Togo. The crew was unaware that they were under intense scrutiny and surveillance—by a rat. Like most rats, this rat was hungry. From the darkness of the small drainage pipe, the rodent watched as a large door opened on the dock level. It watched the men load tons of food onto the large ship. A forklift was busy making a procession of back-and-forth trips from the truck to the ship, delivering what seemed to be endless pallets of wonderful-smelling food the rat would love to sink its tiny yellow teeth into. The rat stuck its furry little head out of the drainpipe and tentatively lifted its wet nose into the air. It inhaled deeply and salivated at the smells of seafood, produce, meat and many other wonderful aromas wafting on the night air. The rat hesitated, contemplating making a break for the cavernous opening on the side of the ship. But deep down instinct warned that it would never make it. One of the men responsible for the loading of the ship might see it, and it would be “lights out” for the rat once it met the business end of either a broom or stick. But more than likely, within this less populated and violent country of Togo, a man brandishing a gun would accomplish the rat’s demise.
Thus, the rat lurked in the shadows because otherwise the bright light would expose it. The rat rarely ventured from the obscurity of the shadows, which provided the rat a measure of safety. The light had cornered many of the rat’s comrades. Their transgressions were met with quick and violent deaths. Running around at night had other associated risks that did not involve humans. Many animals preyed upon rats. The main enemies of the rat included hawks, eagles, kites, harriers and Old-World vultures. In addition, there were also 91 species of snakes, which represented ten families that would rejoice over a fat rat for supper.
The area around the large ship was well lit. It was so bright that, to the rat’s little brain, it almost resembled daylight—a time of day when it was typically sleeping in a cool underground burrow.
No sooner had the food truck driver closed the big vehicle’s back doors and driven away than a dirty garbage truck took its place under the dock’s sodium vapor lights. The smells from the garbage truck were equally tantalizing to the rat. Maybe even more so. Once again, the rat twitched its nose into the air and was instantly rewarded with the smells of stale and rotting food remnants. Most of it was sitting in the open doorway of the ship. The forklift picked up its first load of compacted trash that was strapped together with baling wire. The machine delivered the first block of trash to the garbage truck, and then it returned for the next block of rubbish. Several more trips were made loading trash blocks. The rat was delirious in its desire to scuttle either onto the ship or into the garbage truck.
Alas, the driver of the garbage truck closed its back doors. Just like that, the garbage truck disappeared into the night. By this time, the rat was going out of its food-starved mind. It had seen such an immense buffet of food in both wonderfully fresh and spoiled block form. The rat had to make a move fast.
A scratching metal-on-metal sound broke the silence of the night and startled the rat. The doors of the big ship were closing. Seeing its opportunity slipping away, the rat darted out from the protection of the drainage pipe. It began scampering along the edge of the dock, desperately seeking an entrance to the ship. But the rat had to get out of the bright light before Death grasped it.
As it scurried along, doing its best to stay within the shadows, it was mindful of humans and other predators. After several terrifying moments running toward the vessel, the rat came upon a thick rope connecting the huge ship to the dock. In spite of having tried this method in the past only to discover disks had been placed on the rope acting as a barrier to prevent vermin from boarding the ship, to the rat’s amazement—this rope—this bridge to all the food it could ever hope to eat didn’t have any type of blockade affixed to it. Maybe the humans had forgotten to add the deterrent. Maybe they didn’t mind sharing food with the rats. Right now, none of that really mattered. The rat had already ascended fifty feet up the rope.
Looking down, the rat didn’t see any further activity on the dock. The trucks were long gone, and everything was still. Both deliriously happy and excited, the rat continued its climb up the rope extending from the great vessel like a giant’s umbilical cord. It slowed only once it had reached the top. Ten feet ahead was the wide opening offering the rat sanctuary inside the ship from which light emanated. The rat heard other sounds associated with humans that, during its life on the dock, it had become accustomed to. An engine was running. Water was running through pipes. Tools clanged off metallic implements, and just at the periphery of the rat’s hearing, someone was whistling. None of these sounds particularly concerned the rat. They were not gunshots, sounds of humans yelling, or sounds of people jumping up onto chairs. The rat associated those with the possibility of imminent danger. Those noises always made the rat flee in terror. The light coming from the hole was very dim, and it gave the rat an increased measure of confidence. The rat stole up the remainder of the rope very slowly.
As the rat crossed the threshold of the hole and entered the ship, it unwittingly tripped an invisible laser beam. A plastic flapper came down over the top of the rat’s head, which knocked it from its precarious position on the rope. For an instant, the disoriented rat flailed helplessly, letting out a loud squeak, believing a human had hit it with something. Maybe a broom (which was common to the rat). Maybe something a little harder. But now the rat was falling, tumbling down a wide pipe and picking up speed. The rat’s sharp claws did nothing to abate its fall. It screeched out, unable to gain purchase against the sides of the pipe.
Three seconds later, the rat came to an abrupt stop, landing softly on something very alive. The rodent not only heard movement, but also it felt movement. The floor beneath its tiny body began to undulate and thousands of hisses surrounded the terrified rodent.
Prior to its death, the rat realized its horrible mistake. In its desire for food, it had trespassed into the rodent version of the very worst place in the world. It had landed inside a tank writhing with thousands of snakes residing at the bottom of the cargo ship Hail Proton.