Inside the Shadow City (11 page)

• • •

My mother had named the mouse Hubert Jr., in honor of her father, who had claimed to be the world's foremost expert on rodents. A man of great compassion, my grandfather had once planned to devote his talents to ridding the world of rodent-borne diseases. (As a teenager, Hubert Sr. had repeatedly tried to contract the bubonic plague in order to cure himself.) However, when he discovered that his medical training would require the sacrifice of scores of lab rats, he became so disgusted with the human race that he chose to focus on saving the rodents—not their tormentors.

Like most sane people, my parents and I did not share my grandfather's love of all things small and furry.
But out of respect for him, we had never attempted to harm Hubert Jr. He had been allowed to live a long and productive life (for a rodent) and in a way, he had become a part of the family.

Rats, however, are not mice. Hubert Jr. was old and feeble, but he was still somewhat charming. Rats, on the other hand, are filthy, flea-ridden creatures with teeth as sharp as hypodermic needles. In New York, they will always be the subjects of legend. Gangs of hungry rats are said to roam the city's subway tunnels, searching for unlucky transit workers who've become separated from their crews. And you don't have to live long in the city before you hear a story about a giant rat that climbed into a cradle with a sleeping baby and feasted on its fingers and toes.

If, on some future visit to New York, you happen to come across a solitary rat in an alleyway or on a subway platform, odds are it will scamper away. Don't be misled by this behavior. If you remember nothing else, remember this: New York rats aren't afraid of people. They consider us a delicacy.

I had only to skim a couple of the books I found under the kitchen sink before I realized the hopelessness of my task. As I read from a book entitled
The Devil's Army,
I began to doubt whether six girls could ever be a match for the rats of the Shadow City.

Nature's super-villains, the powers of the rat are humbling to behold. The beady-eyed beasts can scamper up the slickest surface, leap three feet in the air, and squeeze through openings the size of
gumballs. With their sharp teeth and amazing powers of concentration, they are able to gnaw through an astounding variety of materials. Entire buildings have been known to collapse after rats have eaten through the support beams.

Once they have invaded a home, rats are almost impossible to expel. Traveling in groups called “mischiefs,” they outwit all but the most ingenious traps and employ taste testers to identify poisoned food. Many a frustrated apartment dweller has resorted to flinging them out of a window, only to discover that rats can survive falls from as high as six stories.

Mankind is in danger of losing our war against rats. To avoid defeat, we must stop underestimating the cunning of our enemy. We should avoid thinking of them as lowly rodents, and realize that they are more intelligent than we have ever imagined. Recent university studies, for example, have shown that rats can count—though they rarely make it past the number five. What other secret skills might they be hiding?

As I shut
The Devil's Army,
I noticed an old spiral notebook tucked between
The Scourge of Europe
and
Rat Fancier.
In the corner was my grandfather's name, Hubert Snodgrass. I thumbed through the notebook's brittle, yellowing pages. The first, rather dull section was devoted to sketches of rat ears in various shapes and sizes. When I flipped to the second section, however, I found an intricate drawing of a device that resembled a battery-powered
kazoo. The title, written in a fancy script, read,
Invention #466. The Reverse Pied Piper
.

I knew I had found what I needed. My eyes scanned the smaller print at the bottom of the page.
An effective rodent-removal device that does not cause injury or death
. Reading on, I learned that my grandfather, in the course of his studies, had discovered that rats could be driven to distraction by sounds that the human ear can't even detect. He developed the Reverse Pied Piper, a miniature megaphone of sorts, which could emit a blast of sound that would have no effect on a human being, but would cause a rat to run as far as possible in the opposite direction. They would abandon their nests—even leave their food and helpless offspring behind—just to escape from the noise. Amazingly, laboratory tests had proven that just the memory of the sound could keep rats at a distance.

Apparently, my grandfather had considered even this too cruel, and his notes showed that he had abandoned the project. Fortunately for the Irregulars, I was no rat-lover. Once I had studied my grandfather's drawings, I decided to ask Luz if she could make a Reverse Pied Piper. I said a quiet good-bye to Hubert Jr. and left to join the rest of the Irregulars.

On my way to the living room, I bumped into my mother and father, who were leaving for their lecture.

“We were just chatting with your little blond friend,” my mother said, adjusting her hair and beaming down at me. “You're lucky to have such an intelligent study partner. I hope this means your grades will be improving? You're too smart to keep getting C's.”

Hope away, I thought. “You promised you wouldn't interfere with my schoolwork,” I said.

“I beg your pardon, my dear, but we were passing through the living room when your friend asked your mother a question,” my father scolded.

I turned to my mother in surprise. “Kiki asked you a question?”

“Yes, something about the long-term effects of poisoning. I showed her a couple of books that I thought might help. She said you two were writing a paper about that unfortunate foreign politician who was poisoned by his rivals. It sounded very exciting. By the way, where is your friend from? She has such a charming accent.”

“Accent?” I asked. “Kiki doesn't have an accent.”

“Oh, dear,” said my mother. “You should try to be a little more observant, Ananka. And make sure to give your friend something to eat. She looks a little malnourished to me.”

• • •

It had been hours since the meeting had kicked off, and slowly the girls began to trickle back into the living room. Betty was first, carrying a stack of books and an oversized pad of drawing paper. Oona emerged next with the sack of locks and two wire hangers tucked under her arm. She plopped herself down on the sofa, pulled an emery board from her handbag, and proceeded to file her nails, which were broken and jagged. DeeDee and Luz chose to sit in a shadowy alcove at the back of the room. Every few minutes, they would lean toward each other and exchange a barrage of angry whispers.

“Okay, let's see what you've got,” said Kiki. “Betty, you're up. Show us your ideas for uniforms.”

Betty's hands and forearms were smeared with charcoal. She flipped to a page in her artist's pad and held it up for the group to see.

“Sorry,” Betty whispered. “I know it's not very good, but maybe you could use your imaginations.”

“How about that? You really
are
as crazy as you look!” cried Oona in mock astonishment as she studied a marvelously lifelike drawing of Kiki wearing a black jumpsuit. “That's amazing. I've never seen anything like it before.”

Betty blushed.

“It's probably not what you were expecting. But I did consider the standard catsuit. You know, like the one Cat Woman wears. It's attractive, but it's really not that practical. My design has a looser fit so we can wear our own clothes underneath, and the seams are made of waterproof Velcro, so the suit can be pulled on or taken off in a couple of seconds.”

“Good thinking,” said Kiki, nodding with approval. Betty managed a nervous smile.

“I got the idea for the fabric from this book on military textiles.” She opened the book to an image of a handsome Marine filling a large sack with grenades. “See the duffel bag he's carrying? You can buy them in the Army and Navy store near my house. They're made of a material that repels water, resists flames, and can't be punctured. I once overheard the man in the store saying it's used to make bulletproof vests. But the company that designed the fabric found a way to manufacture it cheaply, so now they make other things out of it, too. I'm
pretty sure it's tough enough to protect us from what-ever's down there.” She raised her eyes and looked cautiously around the room, but she quickly lost her nerve and returned her gaze to the pile of books.

“Umm … just a few more things. First, we're all going to need boots. Since we don't know what's down there, I think it's safest to go with knee-high boots, but we'll also want something with good traction. So I thought these might work.” She pulled a fly-fishing catalog out of the pile. I couldn't imagine where she might have found it. No one in my family had ever been within a hundred miles of a crisp mountain stream. Betty held up a picture of a pair of tall black boots. “They've got little spikes on the bottom, so you can anchor yourself against the current. And they come in boys' sizes, of course, not girls', but I think we can make do.” She turned a page in the drawing pad and held up a very flattering sketch of me wearing the tall black boots.

“They'll be good for defensive purposes as well,” noted Luz. “Give somebody a good kick with one of those, and he'll be feeling it for weeks.”

“I hadn't thought of that,” said Betty. “Do you think we'll be kicking people?” she asked Kiki.

“Don't worry. We'll let Luz do all the kicking,” said Kiki. “Anything else?”

Betty struggled to recapture her train of thought. “Oh, right. The hard hats. I think a spin on the classic miner's hat, with a flashlight in front, should work nicely. I'll have to find small ones and adapt them to the size of our heads. It shouldn't be too difficult.”

“I also thought it would be a good idea for the Irregulars to have a logo. You know, to give the outfits a little flare.” She flipped a page and revealed a drawing of a small golden
i
she had designed to look like a girl in motion.

“Fantastic,” said Kiki as the girls broke into a round of applause. “Great job, Betty. Oona?”

Oona stepped forward with the bag of locks and the two hangers, the ends of which had been bent into bizarre shapes.

“These old locks are a cinch,” she boasted. “If I had been around a hundred years ago, I could have made a killing as a thief. The only problem was that I tried to pick them with a bobby pin like you always see in the movies, and I ended up breaking all of my nails. Then I found these wire hangers.” She picked up a lock and inserted a wire hanger. “You can twist the wires into any shape you need. All you've got to do is listen closely and make sure all the tumblers are compressed.” She flicked her wrist, and the lock sprang open.

“Here, Fishbein. You try.” She closed the lock and tossed it to me. “I've already shaped the wire to fit that style of lock, so it won't be too hard. Just put your ear as close as you can, and listen for three little clicks.” I turned the wire carefully. One by one, three little clicks sounded and the lock opened again.

“According to the books, there were only a few styles
of lock in use back then,” said Oona. “I think we should make six small kits that will have wires shaped to fit each. That way, any of us can do the honors, and I won't always have to be the one ruining my manicure.”

“Great,” said Kiki as Oona sat down and resumed filing her nails. “Ananka, are you ready to tell us about rats?”

“There are rats in the Shadow City?” squealed DeeDee.

“Don't wet your pants, DeeDee,” said Kiki. “Rats are everywhere in New York. There's probably a nest in this building somewhere.”

The other girls squirmed.

“It's okay, I think I've found something that will make us all feel better,” I told them. “I was going through some of my grandfather's old papers, and it turns out he invented a device that should get rid of the rats in the Shadow City.”

“Your grandfather was an inventor?” asked Luz.

“He was a lot of things, including a little strange. He probably liked rats more than people, but he understood that the rest of us prefer to stick with our own species. So he invented something he called ‘The Reverse Pied Piper.' ” I explained the way the device worked, repelling rats without doing them any harm.

“That's perfect,” said Kiki. “The last thing we need is to end up wading through a bunch of dead rats. Luz, do you think you could make a couple of these things?”

“Sure,” replied Luz as she studied a drawing of the Reverse Pied Piper. “I can have a working model in a couple of weeks.”

“Excellent. We're making good progress,” Kiki said. “DeeDee, what about you?”

I saw Luz look up and catch DeeDee's eye.

“It's complicated,” replied DeeDee. “I mean, the explosives part is pretty easy. Just a simple mixture of a few household chemicals would be enough to blow a hole in a wall without taking the whole tunnel down. But there's one little problem.”