Cinnamon would have liked to ignore the alarm. In fact, nothing would have pleased her more than just turning over, pulling the covers over her head, and going back to sleep.
Her younger sister's voice pierced through the walls and machinery between their rooms. "Cinnamon! Would you just go check on it already? It's your turn tonight!"
Cinnamon grumbled pushed herself up into a sitting position. Jordan was right, of course: it was her turn to be on duty. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and looked at the alarm indicator.
The indicator was one of several small lights near the round portal that served as the exit to her room. One of them was blinking green, with a just-too-obnoxious-to-sleep-through buzz accompanying each blink.
She huffed. Just the food intake alarm. What was Hope doing eating so late? Surely this could wait until morning.
Except if she waited, and there was something that spoiled and stunk up the whole sifting room, she would never hear the end of it. Better to just deal with it now. Cinnamon pulled on a large nightshirt and climbed out of bed. She braced herself, punched the button that opened her door, and climbed into the small hatchway behind it.
Like the rest of her family, she was an excellent climber, and she navigated the narrow tunnels with ease, moving along the metal ladders so quickly it almost felt like she could fly. She didn't have far to go, and within a minute she had opened the hatch to the sifting room and climbed inside.
The room itself was filled with late-night quiet, the kind of oppressive silence that seemed to glare at you for daring to not be in bed. Even the hum of machinery, usually a constant in their world, was muted and dull. Hope was asleep, and Cinnamon very much envied her.
Cinnamon approached the large, plastic cylinder in the center of the sifting room. It connected a hatch in the ceiling to the opening in the floor, the latter of which was currently covered by a metal grate. A series of eight rectangular woven nets, which criss-crossed the area above the grate, currently bulged with Hope's recent meal.
If this had been a more reasonable hour, Cinnamon, likely with the help of Pops or Jordan, would have entered the cylinder to sort through whatever food or supplies had come down. They would take out whatever they needed, and then allow the rest to dump into the dark abyss below. But this late at night? She would just let the whole lot fall through. Let Hope enjoy her midnight snack.
Besides, she thought she saw something that looked suspiciously like a pile of fur in the mess of veggies that Hope had eaten, and Cinnamon did not want to deal with that if she didn't have to.
She had walked to the controls -- a series of levers sticking out of the floor near one side of the cylinder -- and pulled the appropriate one. With a metal whirring, the metal grate began to slide aside. She tugged another lever, and the nets began to move towards the side of the chamber, tilting up to drop their contents into the pit.
"H-hey! What's going on!"
Cinnamon jumped, both because the voice was unexpected and because it was unrecognized. She blinked and peered into the cylinder.
The pile of fur she had seen earlier was moving. It was, in fact, a male squirrel, who was currently balanced on the nets, trying to avoid falling into the void opening up below him.
"Hey!" He shouted, spotting Cinnamon. "Help me!"
Cinnamon looked through the clear walls at him. He looked to be around her age, lean and muscled. His fur was a bit unkempt -- not too surprising, considering where he was. He wore a pair of pants that were a similar color to his fur; if he had had a shirt, he had lost it on the way down. He clung desperately to the net, which was now flush against the wall; his legs dangled above the hole where the vegetables had plummeted just seconds before.
Cinnamon waited, watching.
"Hey!" He shouted again. "Come on! Do something!"
"Like what?" She asked.
"I don't know! Do something! Turn this off! Get me out of here!"
Cinnamon shook her head. "I can't do that. We can't rescue everyone Hope eats. She's a predator, and she caught you as her prey. We use the things she eats to help maintain her, but we don't really have a use for most organic material other than fuel, and that includes you."
"I am not fuel!" He tried to climb up to the net, his feet scrabbling against the smooth walls. "Look, you use the stuff she eats? Well, then use me! I can help you fix the hydrolics in her leg!"
Cinnamon furrowed her brow. She was trying to determine how to respond when a large hand came out of the darkness behind her. It reached forward, pushing the lever that caused the metal grate to swing back into place.
Cinnamon stepped aside, letting the broad, imposing figure of her father step forward.
The squirrel released the net and alighted on the grate. He turned towards them, rubbing his sore arms. "What's going on here?"
"I'll ask the questions," Pops said. "Tell me, young'n, how'd you know about the problem with her leg?"
The squirrel brushed some loose pieces of lettuce leaf off his fur. "I saw her walking around before she found me. Her left leg was limping just a little. Judging from the way she walks, I figure it's an issue with the hydrolics."
Pops scratched his chin. Cinnamon knew that face: it was his thinking face. "What were you doing in her house?" Pops asked.
Cinnamon watched as the squirrel hesitated. Finally, he answered, "I was trying to steal food. I was starving, thought the cat was asleep. She caught me, though, and swallowed me, and then suddenly I was here."
Pops nodded. "What's your name?"
"Ace."
"Alright Ace, I think I have a deal for you."
"Wait," Cinnamon put a hand on her father's arm. "Pops, I know you were saying you wanted to find us another worker, but you can't possibly mean..."
Pops ignored her protest. "If I let you go, you got a home to go back to?"
"Not really."
Pops nodded again. "Here's the deal: I let you out, and you work with us to maintain Hope -- that's the cat we're currently inside -- for one month, and you'll be free to leave."
"What's my alternative?" Ace asked.
"You just got eaten by a cat, even if she's kind of a special one. What do you think your fate would be if I don't interfere?"
Ace swallowed hard. "I think I'll take your deal."
"I thought you might."
"Can we really trust him, Pops?" Cinnamon asked. "I mean, he did just admit to being a thief."
"Yes, but at least he was honest about it," Pops answered. He looked at Ace again. "I want to make sure we're clear: you don't work hard, or if you try to sabotage Hope in any way, I throw you in the engine myself."
Ace smiled. "Yeah. That seems fair."
"Good."
"So are you going to let me out?"
"Not quite yet," Pops said. "There's one more person we have to clear this with."
--------
Hope woke up early, with the first rays of the sun just starting to peek through her bedroom's small window. She yawned and stretched before climbing out of bed.
She could tell that something was going on inside her. She could feel movement, and a fluttering in her belly. Something had happened.
She didn't worry about it. If it had been an emergency, the mice would have woken her up. They would let her know what had happened soon enough.
Sure enough, she was in the bathroom brushing her teeth when she felt the pitter-patter of something climbing up her throat. She took a swig of water, sloshed it around in her cheeks, and spit it into the sink. Then she held both of her hands in front of her face in a cup shape, then opened her mouth.
She felt something climbing across her tongue, and then Jordan slipped out between her lips and landing in her waiting hands.
"Ack," the tiny mouse said, coughing. "Minty."
"I was just brushing my teeth," Hope said with a smile.
The tiny mouse put her hands on her hips and grinned back. "Glad to see you're taking your maintenance just as seriously as we do."
Hope laughed, then patted her abdomen. "Alright, little mouse, what's happening in there? Does it have something to do with the pain I felt in my left knee this morning?"
"Huh? Oh, no, it isn't about that. We're aware of that problem and we're working on it. But you could tell something's up, huh?"
"It is my body," Hope said. "Even if you guys made it for me. And you are here a little early for your weekly status report."
Jordan nodded. "We can't get anything past you! Anyway, you ate a squirrel last night."
"Oh, yeah," Hope said. "I hope that didn't cause a problem? I know I don't usually eat that late, but I was half asleep and I happened upon him getting into my food. That is still okay, right? I know you've told me that I can keep eating prey like I used to before, but..."
"Like I've said before, it's fine, Jordan said. "Since we can't eat prey like that ourselves, we usually just let them fall through into the biofuel converter. But actually, Pops wants to keep this one."
"Keep him?" Hope asked.
"Like, as a helper. We've been having trouble keeping up with everything with just the three of us and Pops has been wanting to find another worker for a while."
"Do you think we can trust him?"
"Pops seems to think we can. Cinnamon isn't so sure, but I think she'll come around."
"And you?"
Jordan grinned. "I like him. He played cards with me while we were waiting for you to wake up."
Hope nodded. "Well, if you three think it's okay, then I say go for it. I already trust you to use whatever I eat however you think is best. If you think this squirrel is better used as a worker than as fuel, I trust you in that decision, too."
"Great!" Jordan said. "I figured you'd say that, but we didn't want to make a decision like this without asking you. Anyway, they're waiting for me in there, so if there's nothing else you need, go ahead and send me back down."
Hope smiled, then she lifted her hands up and tilted her head back. She opened her mouth wide, tilted her hands so Jordan would slip inside, and swallowed.
--------
Cinnamon, Pops, and Ace were still waiting in the sifting room when Jordan came flying in, hooting wildly as she bounced into the empty nets.
Pops walked in to help her down from the nets. "She's cool with it!" Jordan proclaimed. "Also, she said she's been having a problem with her left knee, apparently."
Pops nodded, then walked over to Ace. "Looks like you're in... well, you know what I mean." He held out his hand.
Ace took it, and shook firmly. "You won't regret this decision."
"I hope not. The work starts right away." Pops pulled a wrench from his tool belt and handed it to Ace. "Come with me; we'll go have a look at that knee."
As Pops disappeared down into the hatch that led to the legs, Cinnamon put a hand on Ace's arm, holding him back for a moment.
"Pops may trust you, but I don't," Cinnamon said. "You do anything to hurt my family, and I'll throw you in the engine myself."
Ace responded with a smile. "Duly noted. Good thing I'm not planning on doing anything to hurt you," he said, before disappearing into the hatch behind Pops.
Jordan walked up and stood next to her, also looking at the hatch. "I like him."
"You just like anyone that you can beat at Cribbage," Cinnamon said.
"True. But he also stood up to Pops. I think he'll be fine."
Cinnamon nodded. She couldn't do anything about it now: Ace was part of the crew. She just hoped they wouldn't live to regret it.
