The sky over Elora was calm that night, painted in deep indigos and lunar greens. Matt lay in the grass, arms crossed behind his head, watching the foreign stars. Beside him, Sehr’mana slept peacefully. The distant song of the Lorn’ka hummed like a recurring memory.
Another memory—far older—resurfaced.
A space station. A white corridor. And a shout.
"KEEEEN! Get over here, he went this way!"
Twelve-year-old Matt sprinted down the curved hallway of Artemis-4, clutching a cereal box in his arms. Behind him, Ken—hair a complete mess—was following like an inverted rocket, meaning zigzagging and complaining.
"Why is it always me who has to do the dirty work?!"
"Because you’re the smallest, and Sébastien refuses to get his hands dirty!" Matt shot back, the confident grin of a self-declared team leader on his face.
"I heard that!" Sébastien yelled from the observation room, adjusting his glasses. He was fiddling with a tablet displaying thermal scans. "The rodent is in conduit 4-B. Just ate through a pack of protein bars."
"Shouldn’t we tell an adult?" Isabella asked as she approached calmly. Even at their age, she was taller than most, speaking with the composure of a miniature adult.
"Are you crazy? They’ll eject him straight into space!" Ken protested. "It’s a rat, not a terrorist!"
Matt stopped, set the cereal box down, and nodded.
"He may be small… but he made it past the airlock, survived quarantine, and has been sneaking around unnoticed. That rat is a survivor."
Isabella crossed her arms.
"You want us to adopt a stowaway?"
"I want us to protect him."
They named him Turbo.
Small, gray, with a chewed-up ear and a black mark on his back shaped like a rocket. He ran fast, climbed everywhere, and had an affinity for nesting in Sébastien’s socks.
For weeks, the kids hid him in an abandoned storage unit, between crates of tools and cans of food. Matt sneaked in leftovers, Isabella cleaned up after him, Ken played with him using a laser pointer, and Sébastien… took notes for an unauthorized scientific project.
"If we prove Turbo only consumes 0.02% more oxygen than we do… he could become our official mascot."
"Or our emergency meal if all systems fail," Ken joked.
Turbo became their secret. A symbol. They lived in a world of discipline, tests, and authority. But he—this tiny, fragile, and free creature—represented their ability to choose compassion.
Until the day Turbo wandered into the conference room.
A shriek. A chase. Alarms blaring.
And an angry captain.
"WHO brought an animal on board?! This rodent could contaminate the entire station! It will be eliminated within the hour."
Matt, barely thirteen, stepped forward.
"It was me."
Isabella grabbed his arm.
"No… Matt, it was all of us."
Sébastien adjusted his glasses.
"Then you’ll have to eliminate us too. Scientifically speaking, that’s logical."
Ken shrugged.
"I’m not leaving without Turbo."
The captain stared at them, dumbfounded. Then he laughed. The captain's name was Rudy.
"You’re serious? You’re defying protocol over a rat?"
Matt clenched his fists.
"He’s not just a rat. He’s Turbo."
Against all odds, the man sighed. Then he said:
"Once… I had a stowaway cat on the Moon. His name was Einstein."
Turbo wasn’t ejected.
He even became a subject of study. Then an unofficial mascot. He lived two more years, often curling up in Isabella’s boots and stealing crumbs from Ken. He passed away one quiet morning, curled against Sébastien’s data tablet.
That day, Matt understood what he wanted to be.
Someone who protects the weak.
Someone who defies unfair rules.
A leader. Not because he was the strongest, but because he dared to do what others wouldn’t.
Elora, present.
Matt felt a tear slide down his cheek. He smiled faintly.
Sehr’mana stirred, drawn by his silence.
"You were dreaming?"
He shook his head.
"Not a dream. A memory. The sweetest, and the saddest."
She studied him, curious.
"Turbo," he murmured.
And, as if in response, a Lorn’ka flower beside them slowly unfurled, projecting the blurred image of a tiny rat, scampering happily through a white-walled station.
Far from Earth.
Close to the heart.
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