The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents (16 page)

Maurice yowled under his breath. Other, smaller tunnels branched off on either side, but the thin red streak led straight ahead, and there, under another grating, the
shape
lay in the water, the red leaking gently from it.

Maurice sagged.

He'd been expecting—what? But this…this was…this was
worse
, in a way. Worse than anything.

Soaked in water, leaking the red ink from Ratty Rupert the Rat's red vest, was
Mr. Bunnsy Has an Adventure
.

Maurice hooked it out on claw tip, and the cheap paper pages fell out, one by one, and drifted away in the water.

They'd dropped it. Had they been running? Or…had they thrown it away? What was it Dangerous Beans had said? “We're nothing but rats?” And he'd said it in such a sad, hollow voice.

Where are they now, CAT? Can you find them? Which way now?

It can see what I see, he thought. It can't read my mind, but it can see what I see and hear what I hear, and it's good at working out what I must be thinking.

It sees what I see.

Once again, he shut his eyes.

In the dark, CAT? How will you fight my rats? The ones BEHIND YOU?

Maurice spun around, eyes wide. There were rats there, dozens of them, some of them nearly half the size of Maurice. They watched him, all with the same blank expression.

Well done, well done, CAT! You see the squeaky creatures and yet you don't leap! How did a cat learn not to be a cat?

The rats, as one rat, moved forward. They rustled as they moved. Maurice took a step backward.

Imagine it, CAT,
said the voice of Spider.
Imagine a million clever rats. Rats that don't run. Rats that fight. Rats that share one mind, one vision. MINE.

“Where are you?” asked Maurice aloud.

You will see me soon. Keep going, pussycat. You have to keep going. One word from me, one mere flicker of a thought, and the rats you see will take you down. Oh, you might kill one or two, but there are always more rats. Always more rats.

Maurice turned and edged forward. The rats followed. He spun around. They stopped. He
turned again, took a couple of steps, looked behind him. The rats followed as if they were on a string.

There was a familiar smell in the air here, of old, stale water. He was somewhere near the flooded cellar. But how close? The stuff stank worse than canned cat food. It could be in any direction. He could probably outrun the rats over a short distance.

Bloodthirsty rats right behind you can give you wings.

Are you planning to run to
help
the white rat? said his conscience. Or are you thinking of making a dash for the daylight?

Maurice had to admit that the daylight had never seemed a better idea. There was no point in lying to himself. After all, rats didn't live very long in any case, even if they had wobbly noses—

They are close, CAT. Shall we play a game? Cats like PLAYING. Did you play with Additives? BEFORE YOU BIT HIS HEAD OFF?

Maurice stopped dead. A rat actually bumped into his back legs.

“You are going to
die
,” he said softly.

They are getting closer to me, Maurice. So
close now. Shall I tell you that the stupid-looking kid and the silly-sounding girl are going to die? Do you know that rats can eat a human alive?

 

Malicia bolted the shed door.

“Rat kings are deeply mysterious,” she said. “A rat king is a group of rats with their tails tied together—”

“How?”

“Well, the stories say it just…happens.”

“
How
does it happen?”

“I read somewhere that their tails become stuck together when they're in the nest, because of all the muck, and then get twisted up as—”

“Rats generally have six or seven babies, and they have quite short tails, and the parents keep the nests quite clean,” said Keith. “Have the people who tell these stories ever
seen
rats?”

“I don't know. Maybe the rats just get crowded together and their tails get twisted up? There's a preserved rat king in a big jar of alcohol in the town museum.”

“A dead one?”

“Or very, very drunk. What do
you
think?” said Malicia. “It's ten rats, like a sort of star, with a big knot of tail in the middle. Lots of others have
been found, too. One had thirty-two rats! There's
folklore
about them.”

“But that rat catcher said he
made
one,” said Keith firmly. “He said he did it to get into the Guild. Do you know what a masterpiece is?”

“Of course, it's anything really good—”

“I mean a
real
masterpiece,” said Keith. “I grew up in a big city, with guilds everywhere. That's how I know. A masterpiece is something that an apprentice makes at the end of his training to show the senior members of the guild that he deserves to be a ‘master.' A full member. You understand? It might be a great symphony, or a beautiful piece of carving, or a batch of magnificent loaves—his ‘master piece.'”

“Very interesting. So?”

“So what sort of masterpiece would you have to make to become a master rat catcher? To show that you could
really
control rats? Remember the sign over the door?”

Malicia frowned the frown of someone faced with an inconvenient fact.

“Anyone could tie a bunch of rat tails together if they wanted to,” she said. “I'm sure I could.”

“While they're alive? You'd have to trap them first, and then you've got slippery bits of string that are moving all the time and the other end
keeps on biting you? Eight of them? Twenty of them? Thirty-two? Thirty-two
angry
rats?”

Malicia looked around at the untidy shed, trying out the idea.

“It works,” she said. “Yes. It makes…almost as good a story. Probably there were one or two
real
rat kings…all right, all right, maybe just one—and people heard about this and decided that since there was all this interest, they'd
try
to make one. Yes. It's just like crop circles. No matter how many aliens own up to making them, there are always a few diehards who believe that humans go out with garden mowers in the middle of the night—”

“I just think that some people like to be cruel,” said Keith. “How would a rat king hunt? They'd all pull in different directions.”

“Ah, well, some of the stories about rat kings say that they can control other rats,” said Malicia. “With their minds, sort of. Get them to bring them food and go to different places and so on. You're right, rat kings can't move around easily. So they learn how to see out of the eyes of other rats, and hear what they hear.”

“Just other rats?” said Keith.

“Well, one or two do say that they can do it to people,” said Malicia.

“How? Has it ever happened,
really
?”

“It couldn't, could it?” said Malicia.

Yes.

“Yes, what?” asked Malicia.

“I didn't say anything. You just said, ‘Yes,'” said Keith.

Silly little minds. Sooner or later there is always a way in. The cat is much better at resisting! You will OBEY me. Let the rats GO.

“I think we should let the rats go,” said Malicia. “It's just too cruel, having them packed into those cages like that.”

“I was just thinking that,” said Keith.

And forget about me. I am just a story.

“Personally, I think rat kings really are just a story,” said Malicia, walking over to the trapdoor and raising it. “That rat catcher was a stupid little man. He was just babbling.”

“I wonder if we
really
should let the rats out,” Keith mused. “They looked pretty hungry.”

“They can't be worse than the rat catchers, can they?” said Malicia. “Anyway, the piper will be here soon. He'll lead them all into the river, or something—”

“Into the river…” muttered Keith.

“That's what he does, yes. Everyone knows that,” said Malicia.

“But rats can—” Keith began.

Obey me! Don't THINK! Follow the story!

“Rats can what?”

“Rats can…rats can…” Keith stammered. “I can't remember. Something about rats and rivers. Probably not important.”

 

Thick, deep darkness. And, somewhere in it, a little voice.

“I dropped
Mr. Bunnsy
,” said Peaches.

“Good,” said Dangerous Beans. “It was just a lie. Lies drag us down.”

“You said it was important!”

“It was a
lie
!”

…endless, dripping darkness…

“And…I've lost the Thoughts, too.”

“So?” Dangerous Beans's voice was bitter. “No one bothered with them.”

“That's not true! People tried to. Mostly. And they were sorry when they didn't!”

“They were just another story, too. A story about rats who thought they weren't rats.”

“Why're you talking like this? This isn't like you!”

“You saw them run. They ran and squeaked and forgot how to talk. Underneath, we're just…rats.”

…foul, stinking darkness…

“Yes, we are,” said Peaches. “But what are we on top? That's what you
used
to say. Come on—please? Let's go back. You're not well.”

“It was all so clear to me…” Dangerous Beans mumbled.

“Lie down. You're tired. I've got a few matches left. You know you always feel better when you see a light….”

Worried in her heart, and feeling lost and a long way from home, Peaches found a wall that was rough enough and dragged a match from her crude bag.

The red head flared and crackled. She raised the match as high as she could.

There were eyes everywhere.

What's the worst part? she thought, her body rigid with fear. That I can see the eyes? Or that I'm going to know they're still there when the match goes out?

“And I've only got two more matches,” she mumbled to herself.

The eyes withdrew into the shadows, noiselessly. How can rats be so still and so silent? she thought.

“There's something wrong,” said Dangerous Beans.

“Yes.”

“There's something here,” he said. “I smelled it on that
keekee
they found in the trap. It's a kind of terror. I can smell it on you.”

“Yes,” said Peaches.

“Can you see what we should do?” asked Dangerous Beans.

“Yes.” The eyes in front were gone, but Peaches could still see them on either side.

“What can we do?” asked Dangerous Beans.

Peaches swallowed. “We could wish we had more matches,” she said.

And, in the darkness behind their eyes, a voice said:
And so, in your despair, you come, at last, to me….

 

Light has a smell.

In the dank, damp cellars the sharp sulfur stink of the match flew like a yellow bird, rising on drafts, plunging through cracks. It was a clean and bitter smell, and it cut through the dull underground reek like a knife.

It filled the nostrils of Sardines, who turned his head.

“Matches, boss!” he said.

“Head that way!” Darktan commanded.

“It's through the room of cages, boss,” Sardines warned.

“So?”

“Remember what happened last time, boss?”

Darktan looked around at his squad. It wasn't everything he could have wished for. Rats were still trailing back from their hiding places, and some rats—good, sensible rats—had run into traps and poisons in the panic. But he'd picked the best he could. There were a few of the experienced older ones, like Inbrine and Sardines, but most of them were young. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing, he thought. It was the older rats who'd panicked most. They hadn't been so used to thinking.

“O-kay,” he said. “Now, we don't know what we're going to—” he began, and caught sight of Sardines. The rat was shaking his head slightly.

Oh, yes. Leaders weren't allowed not to know.

He stared at the young, worried faces, thought for a long moment, took a deep breath, and started again.

“There's something new down here,” he said, and suddenly he knew what to say. The words came. “Something that no one's ever seen before. Something tough. Something strong.” The squad
was almost cowering, except for Nourishing, who was staring at Darktan with shining eyes.

“Something fearful. Something new. Something sudden,” said Darktan, leaning forward. “And it's
you
. All of you. Rats with brains. Rats who can think. Rats who don't turn and run. Rats who aren't afraid of dark or fire or noises or traps or poisons. Nothing can stop rats like you, right?”

He remembered something else.

“You heard about the Dark Wood in the Book? Well, we're in the Dark Wood now. Oh, yes. There's something else down there. Something terrible. It hides behind your fear. It thinks it can stop you, and it's
wrong
. We're going to find it and drag it out, and we're gonna make it wish we'd never been
born
! And if we die…well”—and he saw them, as one rat, stare at the livid wound across his chest—“death ain't so bad. Shall I tell you about the Bone Rat? Me and the Bone Rat, we've got a little…understanding. He waits for those who break and run, who hide, who falter. But if you stare right into his eyes, he'll give you a nod and pass on.”

Now he could smell their excitement. In the world behind their eyes they were the bravest rats that there ever were. Now he had to lock
that thought there.