The Sewer Rats

by JT Griffiths

  The imminent arrival of the skycart was announced by a flashing amber light on the wall. They hid behind a table while robots unloaded cargo destined for countless unknown worlds. Eventually when all the cargo was unloaded the robots returned to the skycart for a recharge allowing them to stretch their legs.

  Suddenly a panel behind them slid open and more robots appeared bringing with them dozens of crates to be loaded onto the skycart. The children froze like statues hoping the robots would be too busy to notice them and several crates were loaded before a robot stopped mere millimetres from Tycho’s boots. Crates crashed to the ground as the long line of robots swivelled their heads towards Tycho. The lead robot extended its neck bringing its soulless red eyes close to his face.

  “Please move out the way. Loading in progress,” it sang in a mechanical voice.

  They relaxed and moved against the opposite wall allowing the convoy to pass. Once a robot swung its head inquisitively towards them but said nothing. So why did the robots ignore them? It was part of the robot’s duties to report stowaways. This had to be the general’s handiwork and it must be a trap. Jaime felt naked without his tattoo to help him and he knew he had to come up with a plan soon.

  After the robots had finished their loading the panel slid into place behind them. Taking their chance they stepped into the skycart.

  No one talked as they settled between the crates. A deep sense of fear and resignation hung over the three eldest children.

  Annoyed at what she was missing Heen pleaded, “I still don’t understand what’s going on. Who’s General Bluetash?”

  Carina tried to forget their troubles by telling Heen the story of Jaime’s first trip to Hub-World while the boys sat facing each other in silence. Soon the skycart jolted and begun its long descent to the planet below.

  “I wonder if there is anything in these crates that could help us.” Jaime tried to sound optimistic.

  Carina gave him a bewildered look.

  “Yes I know I said it was important to leave the crates alone but we aren’t hiding anymore. They know we’re here. Search for anything that might give us an advantage over General Bluetash however small.” Jaime’s stomach groaned as he spoke.

  “I don’t know about you but I’m starving. See if you can find something to eat. Remember if we are still free when we land we won’t have money to buy food or water.”

  Wandering around the skycart and examining the crates they found each was marked with the same strange wavy letters they had seen on the sky platform consuls. Tycho tugged at a flap but it was securely nailed down.

  “Are you expecting to find guns?” Carina asked nervously.

  “No. I don’t think we could win a gun battle, but we need to find something to help us soon otherwise I don’t fancy our chances,” replied Jaime.

  Irritated he kicked at the nearest crate and a strange howling noise came from within.

  “I think I’ve found a way to tell what’s inside. Come on. Let’s kick some crates!”

  The first two Heen kicked remained silent, the third produced a dramatic reaction. A distinctive “chiut chi chi chi chig” sound came from all corners of the crate.

  “Slemons! A crate full of slemons! Just our luck! What would this planet want with Slemons?” Heen gasped.

  She moved as far as she could from the noisy reptiles.

  “Do you think any of the other crates contain slemons?” she shuddered.

  “Well there’s no noise coming from this one,” said Jaime as he kicked another crate.

  He pulled hard against a wooden door then rocked it backwards and forwards until the hinges snapped. An unpleasant smell wafted out making them choke. The crate was full of large orange maggots some as fat as the children’s wrists. Several fell onto Jaime’s shoes and wriggled off towards the darkest corners of the skycart.

  “A maggot! A maggot! Put a maggot in your pocket. The bigger the better,” a gnat voice commanded.

  “I’m not putting a maggot in my pocket. That’s revolting,” Carina screwed up her nose as she spoke.

  “Glad to hear it Carina. Why would you want to put a maggot in your pocket?” Jaime laughed.

  “Well someone asked me to,” replied Carina.

  The others stared at her. Heen put a finger to her ear and began to twist it.

  “I’m not loopy. I heard a squeaky gnat-like voice,” insisted Carina.

  “That’s exactly what I meant,” replied Heen twisting her finger in her ear again and ducking a swipe from her sister.

  They continued to search the crates and had the others been watching they would have seen Carina absent-mindedly pick up a large squirming maggot and place it carefully into her pocket.

  “Never mind the slemon. Why would any planet import those horrible things?” croaked Carina as she tried to stop herself from gagging.

  “Simple answer, slemon food, I bet those maggots are vey nutritious.” laughed Jaime. “OK. From now on smell the crates as well as kicking them.”

  Short of ideas they continued their inspections. Tycho slid a panel back exposing a window. It was dark inside so he slipped his hand in and wiggled it around, but found nothing. Hoping Newton would light up the interior he called him, but the tattoo remained unobtainable. A further kick from Tycho’s boot and the whole side of the crate swung open revealing thousands of tiny boxes packed tightly together.

  Tycho pulled one out and tore it open. Heen threw her arms up shielding her from anything that might jump out, but Tycho reached in and pulled out a wad of crisp new banknotes all bearing the seal of Hub World.

  “Wow I’m rich. I’m mega-giga-rich,” he boasted.

  “Hold on Tycho,” Jaime scolded. “Money won’t help us escape and anyway I doubt that’s real money. One thing is for certain if the general knows we’ve discovered it he won’t be happy.”

  “Come on. I’m starving. Let’s check out more crates,” encouraged Carina.

  “We’ll look for food while you go and catch your maggot,” Tycho added cheekily.

  They continued to search and found a further two crates filled with money. Heen was the next to make a discovery. She pulled open a box containing thousands of transparent paper sheets each with twelve black smudges printed side by side. Resting at the bottom of the crate appeared to be a gun.

  “These sheets of paper are odd! Someone’s pen doesn’t work, look at all these blotches,” Heen laughed.

  Pausing from their own searches the others examined her discovery. Both Tycho and Jaime’s faces lit up with huge grins. Jaime ran to her and gave her a bear hug and kissed her.

  “Well done Heen,” he shouted, as she tried to extract herself from his grip.

  “Why? What’s so great about ink blots? Heen makes them every day at school,” Carina joked.

  Heen grinned happy to be the centre of attention.

  “These are no mistakes. What we have here are tattoos,” Jaime picked up the gun, “and this is what fixes them to your skin.”

  “There are zillions of sheets, enough for an enormous army,” exclaimed Heen.

  “I hope you’re wrong Heen,” Jaime replied. “Do you think that’s what General Bluetash is planning? With so much money, which I bet is counterfeit, and an army equipped with fighting tattoos he could attack any planet in the galaxy. Give them to me.”

  Heen gave him a pack of tattoos; next to each smudge was a coloured dot.

  “I remember my tattoo had a dark blue dot next to it whereas Newton had an orange dot, but these are brown,” Jaime mused as he flicked through more sheets. “These are silver and these are gold. I reckon gold should be the best. Yes I think I’ll try a gold one.”

  He tore a tattoo from a sheet and inserted it into the gun. He held the nozzle to his wrist above the bruise that was all that remained from his original tattoo. As he pulled the trigger the splodge jumped onto Jaime’s wrist. The ink appeared to be alive as it spread across Jai
me’s arm and into the air above him eventually forming into a dodecahedron, a twelve-sided solid shape. Without warning it jumped, twisted and turned, spun and sliced the air. Jaime relieved at having a tattoo again weaved his wrist letting it learn his movements.

  “But can it talk?” Carina asked.

  “Hey tattoo what’s your name?” Jaime asked joking, not really expecting an answer. Then, as they watched, the dodecahedron split apart, it was as if thousands of tiny jigsaw pieces were resorting themselves into a three dimensional picture of a beautiful young woman with long black hair and dark green eyes.

  “You will call me Cleopatra,” the tattoo responded in a deep contralto voice.

  “Cool,” exclaimed Heen.

  “Jaime, she’s too pretty to be of any use to us. She’s no fighting tattoo and she doesn’t sound as clever as Newton,” Carina scowled.

  Jaime was about to accuse Carina of being jealous when Cleopatra shot the locks off every crate containing food and drink.

  “I sensed you were all hungry. Eat up! Then the rest of you will need a tattoo. I have information that General Bluetash will be waiting for you when we land,” said the tattoo. “Soon you must be ready to escape.”

  They stood in stunned silence this tattoo was far more intelligent than Newton, but would she be as strong? They gulped down a selection of exotic fruits gathered from unknown worlds, then sat on the skycart floor discussing which tattoos to activate next.

  “I choose this one,” Heen suggested, pointing to a splodge with a pink dot beside it.

  “It’s only a splodge, what makes that one so special?” asked Tycho.

  Cleopatra interrupted, “Jaime, take the sheet with the violet dots and give Carina the second tattoo on the fourth row.”

  Jaime followed her instructions and shortly Carina was testing her own tattoo. Heen was next and screamed with delight as she practised weaving her new companion around the crates. Finally Tycho rolled back his sleeve expecting Cleopatra to choose his tattoo, but she only uttered the words Jaime had been dreading.

  “You already have a tattoo. It is too risky to have more than one. If the tattoos have a disagreement and fight things could get especially nasty for you.”

  “Can’t we burn Newton off Tycho’s wrist?” Carina asked. ‘Then we could replace him with a new tattoo.”

  Tycho immediately hid his arm behind his back. He had grown fond of the grouchy tattoo and didn’t want to lose him, especially at the expense of a burnt wrist.

  ****

  General Bluetash gathered his troops at the landing bay. In less than an hour the skycart, all its passengers and cargo would arrive. Soon these troublesome rats would be dead and his army would have the money and weapons to take over this pathetically rich planet.

  He took a few moments to daydream what it would be like to rule the entire galaxy. In his imagination he spoke to a large cheering crowd. He waved contemptuously at them selecting those who pleased and those who displeased him. A quick point and wink aimed at the victims brought his police into action. They would grab all those he had named and take them away never to be seen again. Ending his daydream he smiled, what a wonderful time awaits this world.

  Then the general pondered the fate of the children. Maybe the most fitting way to dispose of them would be to let the youngest boy’s tattoo do the dirty work. Yes, that would be entertaining. He barked an order and his own tattoo relayed the message up to the skycart. After a long spell of silence Newton opened his eyes.

  Chapter 18

  The Jump

  Tycho turned from the others and placed a protective hand over his wrist.

  “Leave me alone. I’m not losing Newton. He’s my best friend and would never hurt us,” he wailed.

  He was still protesting when a blue ball of light rose through his hand and hovered above their heads. Streaks of lightening flashed from the awakened Newton knocking the locks from several crates. Wooden hatches dropped spilling out an assortment of venomous creatures. Some were baby slemons who took the opportunity to gobble up the wriggling maggots. Slowly and confidently three adult slemons emerged. They tasted the air with their pronged tongues before creeping behind a crate ready to pounce on any unsuspecting victim that passed by.

  Newton, full of the confidence gained from defeating Archimedes, aimed a searing flame at Jaime causing all the tattoo sheets he was holding to burst in to flames. Satisfied that he had prevented them from adding another tattoo to Tycho’s wrist Newton turned his attention to the new tattoos and began to fire at them. Blasting a beam of electric blue light at Cleopatra she swerved uninjured, but for a few seconds spun out of control before changing back into a dodecahedron.

  Heen’s new tattoo, a sparkling diamond, dived narrowly missing the treacherous Newton. From below Carina brought up her new companion, a spinning hendecahedron, which grazed Newton with each of its eleven sides. Injured and now furious Tycho’s tattoo retaliated by swinging up from below and barging against all three newcomers. A squeaky hysterical laugh filled the skycart as Newton shot bolts of fire directly at the children.

  “Newton, you’re not allowed to hurt us,” whined Tycho, but the tattoo now controlled by General Bluetash continued its attack.

  “Do you know what will happen if I blow a hole in the skycart wall? We are so high above Hub-World that there’s hardly any air outside. You’ll all be sucked out and die,” Newton cackled.

  Jaime smiled, “I always thought you were an intelligent tattoo Newton, obviously not. All the remaining sheets of tattoos, all the counterfeit money and all the other valuable cargo would be sucked out with us. I’m betting that your boss wouldn’t like that.”

  Newton went silent. Jaime guessed that he was talking to General Bluetash.

  Suddenly the entire skycart was bathed in a strange bluish-purple fog. Tycho had used the confusion to grab a spare tattoo sheet from a crate and stamp a new tattoo onto his other wrist. Quickly reshaping itself from a tetrahedron the tattoo became a bright green octopus that immediately released the murkiness to hide the youngsters. Moving forwards to join the battle it swam into its dark ink cloud that filled the air so thickly that no one could see beyond their nose. For several heartbeats there was silence.

  As the air cleared Tycho let out a cry of pain and grabbed his wrist while his new companion came to rest above him. Jaime had to prise his brother’s fingers apart to reveal a black shrivelled smudge where Newton had once been. Tycho started to wail.

  Distracted for a brief moment by Tycho’s misery Carina found she had lost control of her tattoo. Its eleven sides peeled like flower petals opening to the sun. In the centre stood a tiny young woman, not a harsh image like a tattoo but the soft holographic shape of a real person. She regarded them with soulful eyes as she spoke.

  “Hello. I am President Rotanova, leader of Hub-World. My army is for the moment controlling your tattoo from our headquarters. We have been following your dealings with General Bluetash since you last visited our world. The general is planning to conquer not only our planet but every inhabited planet within fifty light years. He would have succeeded had you not distracted him. Now, you need to get out of the skycart immediately, there isn’t much....”

  The tattoo became fuzzy and her final words were lost. When the scene cleared the tiny three- dimensional image that stared back at them was that of General Bluetash.

  “Good evening rats I do hope you are having an unpleasant journey and soon it is going to get much worse,” he cackled.

  His eyes focused behind Heen as he spoke.

  “You’ll soon see what I mean.”

  As the general finished his sentence Heen felt a rasping on her shoulder. Turning, she screamed, an adult slemon had crept behind them and now was using its tongue to decide who would make the tastiest meal.

  As the slemon’s jaws opened the dribble from the monster’s mouth splashed against the floor drowning some large wriggling maggots. Ignoring the chil
dren the slemon scooped the maggots up, tossed them in the air and caught them in its gaping mouth.

  “OK,” Jaime advised, “pick up as many maggots as you can and throw them at the slemon. Be careful though, grab them by the back of the neck, those maggots have strong jaws and sharp teeth.”

  The girls were horrified by the idea of those giant blobs squirming and squelching against their skin, it sent shudders of disgust throughout their bodies. Yet for Carina it stirred a memory she had tried to forget, what was it that the gnat-voice had ordered her to do?

  They gathered the grubs and tossed them at the reptile that happily caught and gulped them down. Tycho took hold of a maggot and held it next to his head. As it wriggled and squirmed it opened and closed its mouth with the vain hope of biting its tormentor.

  “Hello my name is General Bluetash and I’m a maggot,” Tycho mouthed.

  The general, watching the proceedings from his office, started to shout out threats. He issued more orders to Newton and was baffled when the tattoo didn’t respond.

  “I’m afraid that Newton has fought his last battle,” Jaime shouted triumphantly.

  The general shrieked at the sewer rats describing the most gruesome tortures he could imagine. Tycho’s octopus, which had been waiting for its next command, swam straight for the screaming officer. It squirted out more ink, smothering the image of the military man in a dense violet haze.

  “Enough of this mischief, it’s time for your escape,” scolded Cleopatra.

  “What about the president? Shouldn’t we wait to hear what she wants us to do?” Carina asked.

  “We can’t rely on President Rotanova we must jump before we are discovered,” answered Cleopatra.

  “Jump?” they all questioned simultaneously.

  “Perhaps you would prefer to spend the remainder of the journey dodging slemons?” Cleopatra replied.

  The tattoo flew over to the far wall opening a door into a small room.

  “Go inside and put on a spacesuit, as the general reminded you, it’s cold and airless outside.”

  “Isn’t there a rocket car or an escape pod like we see in the movies?” Heen asked hopefully.

  “Nothing so old fashioned here, we get to use the latest technology, rope. It’s a special rope that cannot break. Unless you have two black holes tugging at each end...” responded Cleopatra.