Maurice leapt off her and onto some sacks.
“Hah!” said Malicia, rubbing her head. “We were told that the rats had got it all. I see it all now. The rat-catchers get everywhere, they know all the sewers, all the cellars… and to think those thieves get paid out of our taxes!”
Maurice looked around the cellar, lit by the flickering lantern in Malicia's hand. There was, indeed, a lot of food. Nets hanging from the ceiling were indeed stuffed with big, white, heavy cabbages. The aforesaid sausages did indeed loop from beam to beam. There were indeed jars and barrels and sacks and sacks. And, indeed, they all worried him.
“That's it, then,” said Malicia. “What a hiding place! We're going to go right away to the town Watch, report what we've found, and then it's a big cream tea for all of us and possibly a medal and then—”
“I'm suspicious,” said Maurice.
“Why?”
“Because I'm a suspicious character! I wouldn't trust your rat-catchers if they told me the sky was blue. What have they been doing? Pinching the food and then saying, ‘It was the rats, honest’? And everyone believed them?”
“No, stupid. People have found gnawed bones and empty egg baskets, that sort of thing,” said Malicia. “And rat droppings all over the place!”
“I suppose you could scratch the bones and I suppose rat-catchers could shovel up a lot of rat droppings…” Maurice conceded.
“And they're killing all the real rats so that there's more for them!” said Malicia triumphantly. “Very clever!”
“Yeah, and that's a bit puzzling,” said Maurice, “because we've met your rat-catchers and, frankly, if it was raining meatballs they wouldn't be able to find a fork.”
“I've been thinking about something,” said Keith, who had been humming to himself.
“Well, I'm glad someone has,” Malicia began.
“It's about wire netting,” said Keith. “There was wire netting in the shed.”
“Is this important?”
“Why do rat-catchers need rolls of wire netting?”
“How should I know? Cages, maybe? Does it matter?”
“Why would rat-catchers put rats in cages? Dead rats don't run away, do they?”
There was silence. Maurice could see that Malicia was not happy about that comment. It was an unnecessary complication. It spoiled the story.
“I may be stupid-looking,” Keith added, “but I'm not stupid. I have time to think about things because I don't keep on talking all the time. I look at things. I listen. I try to learn. I—”
“I don't talk all the time!”
Maurice let them argue and stalked away into the corner of the cellar. Or cellars. They seemed to go on a long way. He saw something streak across the floor in the shadows, and leapt before he could think. His stomach remembered that it had been a long time since the mouse, and it connected itself straight to his legs. “All right,” he said, as the thing squirmed in his paws, “speak up or—”
A small stick hit him very sharply. “Do you mind?” said Sardines, struggling to get up.
“Dere's bno deed to be like dab!” muttered Maurice, trying to lick his smarting nose.
“I've got a rkrklk HAT on, right?” snapped Sardines. “Do you ever bother to look?”
“All ride, all ride, sorwy… why're you here?”
Sardines brushed himself off. “Looking for you or stupid-looking kid,” he said. “Hamnpork sent me! We're in trouble now! You just won't believe what we've found!”
“He wants me?” said Maurice. “I thought he didn't like me!”
“Well, he said it's nasty and evil so you'd know what to do, boss,” said Sardines, picking up his hat. “Look at that, will you? Your claw went right through it!”
“But I did ask you if you could talk, didn't I?” said Maurice.
“Yes, you did, but—”
“I always ask!”
“I know, so—”
“I'm very definite about asking, you know!”
“Yes, yes, you've made your point, I believe you,” said Sardines. “I only complained about the hat!”
“I'd hate anyone to think I don't ask,” said Maurice.
“There's no need to go on and on about it,” said Sardines. “Where's the kid?”
“Back there, talking to the girl,” said Maurice sulkily.
“What, the mad one?”
“That's her.”
“You'd better get them. This is seriously evil. There's a door at the other end of these cellars. I'm amazed you can't smell it from here!”
“I'd just like everyone to be clear that I asked, that's all…”
“Boss,” said Sardines, “this is serious!”
Peaches and Darktan waited for the exploration party. They were with Toxie, another young male rat, who was good at reading and acted as a kind of assistant.
Peaches had also brought “Mr. Bunnsy Has an Adventure”.
“They've been gone a long time,” said Toxie.
“Darktan checks every step,” said Peaches.
“Something's wrong,” said Dangerous Beans. His nose wrinkled.
A rat scurried down the tunnel and pushed frantically past them.
Dangerous Beans sniffed the air. “Fear,” he said.
Three more rats scrambled past, knocking him over.
“What's happening?” said Peaches, as another rat spun her around in its effort to get past. It squeaked at her and rushed on.
“That was Finest,” she said. “Why didn't she say anything?”
“More… fear,” said Dangerous Beans. “They're… scared. Terrified…”
Toxie tried to stop the next rat. It bit him, and ran on, chittering.
“We must go back,” said Peaches urgently. “What've they found up there? Maybe it's a ferret!”
“Can't be!” said Toxie. “Hamnpork killed a ferret once!”
Three more rats ran past, trailing fear behind them. One of them squealed at Peaches, gibbered madly at Dangerous Beans and ran on.
“They… they've forgotten how to talk…” whispered Dangerous Beans.
“Something terrible must have frightened them!” said Peaches, snatching up her notes.
“They've never been that frightened!” said Toxie. “Remember when that dog found us? We were all frightened but we talked and we trapped it and Hamnpork saw it off whimpering…”
To her shock, Peaches saw that Dangerous Beans was crying. “They've forgotten how to talk.”
Half a dozen more rats pushed their way past, screeching. Peaches tried to stop one, but it just squeaked at her and dodged out of the way.
“That was Feedsfour!” she said, turning to Toxie. “I was talking to her only an hour ago! She… Toxie?”
Toxic's fur was bristling. His eyes were unfocused. His mouth was open, showing his teeth. He stared at her, or right through her, and then turned and ran.
She turned and put her paws around Dangerous Beans, as the fear swept over them.
There were rats. From wall to wall, floor to ceiling, there were rats. The cages were crammed full of them; they clung to the wire in front, and to the ceilings. The netting strained with the weight. Glistening bodies boiled and tumbled, paws and noses thrusting through the holes. The air was solid with squeaking and rustling and chittering, and it stank.
What was left of Hamnpork's exploration party were clustered in the middle of the room. Most of it had fled by now. If the smells in that room had been sounds, they would have been shouts and screams, thousands of them. They filled the long room with a strange kind of pressure. Even Maurice could feel it, as soon as Keith broke down the door. It was like a headache outside your head, trying to get in. It banged on the ears.
Maurice was staying a little way behind. You didn't need to be very clever to see that this was a bad situation and one which might need some running away from at any time.
He saw, between their legs, Darktan and Hamnpork and a few other Changelings. They were in the middle of the floor, lookin
g up at the cages.
He was amazed to see that even Hamnpork was trembling. But he was trembling with rage.
“Let them out!” he shouted up to Keith. “Let them all out! Let them all out now!”
“Another talking rat?” said Malicia.
“Let them out!” Hamnpork screamed.
“All these foul cages…” said Malicia, staring.
“I did say about the wire netting,” said Keith. “Look, you can see where it's been repaired… they gnawed through wire to escape!”
“I said let them out!” screamed Hamnpork. “Let them out or I will kill you! Evil! Evil! Evil!”
“But they're just rats—” said Malicia.
Hamnpork leapt and landed on the girl's dress. He swarmed up towards her neck. She froze. He hissed, “There are rats eating one another in there! I will gnaw you, you evil—”
Keith's hand grasped him firmly around the waist and pulled him off her neck.
Screeching, hair bristling, Hamnpork sunk his teeth into Keith's finger.
Malicia gasped. Even Maurice winced.
Hamnpork drew his head back, blood dripping from his muzzle, and blinked in horror.
Tears welled up in Keith's eyes. Very carefully, he put Hamnpork down on the floor. “It's the smell,” he said, quietly. “It upsets them.”
“I… I thought you said they were tame!” said Malicia, able to speak at last. She picked up a lump of wood that was leaning against the cages.
Keith knocked it out of her hand. “Never, ever threaten one of us!”
“He attacked you!”
“Look around! This is not a story! This is real! Do you understand? They're frightened out of their minds!”
“How dare you talk to me like that!” Malicia shouted.
“I rrkrkrk will!”
“One of us, eh? Was that a rat swearword? Do you even swear in Rat, rat boy?”
Just like cats, Maurice thought. You stand face to face and scream at one another. His ears swivelled as he heard another sound, in the distance. Someone was coming down the ladder. Maurice knew from experience that this was no time to talk to humans. They always said things like “What?” and “That's not right!” or “Where?”
“Get out of here right now,” he said, as he ran past Darktan. “Don't get human about it, just run!”
And that was quite enough heroism, he decided. It didn't pay to let other people actually slow you down.
There was a rusty old drain set in the wall. He skidded on the slimy floor as he changed direction, and there, yes, was a Maurice-sized hole where a bar had rusted clean away. Paws scrabbling for speed, he darted through the hole just as the rat-catchers entered the room of cages. Then, safe in the darkness, he turned around and peered out.
Time to check. Was Maurice safe? All legs present? Tail? Yes. Good.
He could see Darktan tugging at Hamnpork, who seemed to have frozen on the spot, the others scuttling towards another drain in the opposite wall. They moved unsteadily. That's what happens when you let yourself go, Maurice thought. They thought they'd got educated, but in a tight corner a rat is just a rat.
Now me, I'm different. Brain functioning perfectly at all times. Always on the lookout. On the case and sniffing bottom.
The caged rats were making a din. Keith and the story-telling girl were watching the rat-catchers in amazement. The rat-catchers weren't unamazed, either.
On the floor, Darktan gave up trying to get Hamnpork to move. He drew his sword, looked up at the humans, hesitated, and then ran for the drain.
Yes, let them sort it out. They're all human, Maurice thought. They've got big brains, they can talk, it should be no problem at all.
Hah! Tell them a story, story-telling girl!
Rat-catcher 1 stared at Malicia and Keith. “What're you doing here, miss?” he said, his voice creaking with suspicion.
“Playing Mummies and Daddies?” said Rat-catcher 2 cheerfully.
“You broke into our shed,” said Rat-catcher 1. “That's called ‘breaking in’, that is!”
“You've been stealing, yes, stealing food and blaming it on rats!” snapped Malicia. “And why have you got all these rats caged up in here? And what about the aglets, eh? Surprised, eh? Didn't think anyone would notice them, eh?”
“Aglets?” said Rat-catcher 1, his brow wrinkling.
“The little bits on the end of bootlaces,” mumbled Keith.
Rat-catcher 1 spun around. “You bloody idiot, Bill! I said we had enough real ones! I told you someone would notice! Didn't I tell you someone would notice? Someone has noticed!”
“Yes, don't think you've got away with anything!” said Malicia. Her eyes were gleaming. “I know you're only the humorous thugs. One big fat one, one thin one—it's obvious! So who's the big boss?”
Rat-catcher 1's eyes glazed slightly, as they often did when Malicia talked at people. He waved a fat finger at her. “You know what your father's been and gone and done just now?” he said.
“Hah! Humorous thug talk!” said Malicia triumphantly. “Do go on!”
“He's been and gone and sent off for the Rat Piper!” said Rat-catcher 2. “He costs a fortune! Three hundred dollars a town and if you don't pay up he gets really mean!”
Oh dear, thought Maurice. Someone's been and gone and sent for the real one… three hundred dollars. Three hundred dollars? Three hundred dollars? And we only charged thirty!
“It's you, isn't it,” said Rat-catcher 1, waving his finger at Keith. “The stupid-looking kid! You turn up, and suddenly there's all these new rats around! There's something I don't like about you! You and your funny-looking cat! If I see that funny-looking cat again it's going to have mittens!”
In the darkness of the drain, Maurice shrank back.
“Hur, hur, hur,” said Rat-catcher 2. He'd probably studied to get a thug laugh like that, Maurice thought.
“And we don't have a boss,” said Rat-catcher 1.
“Yeah, we're our own bosses,” said Rat-catcher 2.
And then the story went wrong.
“And you, miss,” said Rat-catcher 1, turning to Malicia, “are too lippy by half.” He swung his fist, lifting her off her feet and slamming her against the rat cages. The rats went mad and the cages boiled with frantic activity as she slumped to the ground.
The rat-catcher turned to Keith. “You going to try anything, kid?” he said. “You going to try anything? She was a girl so I was nice and kind but you I'll put in one of the cages—”
“Yeah, and they ain't been fed today!” said a delighted Rat-catcher 2.
Go on, kid! Maurice thought. Do something! But Keith just stood there, staring at the man.
Rat-catcher 1 looked him up and down, scornfully. “What's that you've got there, boy? A pipe? Give it here!” The pipe was grabbed from Keith's belt and he was pushed onto the floor. “A penny whistle? Think you're the rat piper, do you?” Rat-catcher 1 snapped the pipe in two and tossed the bits inside the cages. “Y'know, they say that over in Porkscratchenz the Rat Piper led all the kids out of the town. Now there was a man with the right idea!”
Keith looked up. His eyes narrowed. He got to his feet.
Here it comes, thought Maurice. He's going to leap forward with superhuman strength because he's so angry and they're going to wish he'd never been born…
Keith leapt forward with ordinary human strength, landed one punch on Rat-catcher 1 and was smacked to the floor again by a big, brutal, sledgehammer blow.
All right, all right, he got knocked down, thought Maurice as Keith struggled for breath, but he's going to get up again.
There was a shrill scream, and Maurice thought: aha!
But the scream hadn't come from the wheezing Keith. A grey figure had launched itself from the top of the rat cages right at the rat-catcher's face. It landed teeth first, and blood spurted on the rat-catcher's nose.
Aha! thought Maurice again, it's Hamnpork to the rescue! What? Mrillp! I'm thinking like the girl! I keep thinking it's a st
ory!
The rat-catcher grabbed at the rat and held him out at arm's length by his tail. Hamnpork twisted and turned, squealing with rage. His captor dabbed at his nose with his spare hand, and stared at Hamnpork as he struggled.
“He's a bit of a fighter,” said Rat-catcher 2. “How'd he get out?”
“Not one of ours,” said Rat-catcher 1. “He's a red.”
“Red? What's red about him?”
“A red rat's a kind of grey rat, as you would very well know if you'd were an hexperienced Guild member like me,” said the rat-catcher. “They ain't local. You get 'em down on the plains. Funny to find one up here. Very funny. Greasy old devil, too. But game as anything.”
“Your nose is all runny.”
“Yeah. I know. I've had more rat bites than you've had hot dinners. Don't feel 'em any more,” said Rat-catcher 1, in a voice that suggested that the spinning, screeching Hamnpork was a lot more interesting than his colleague.
“I only have cold sausage for dinner.”
“There you are then. What a little fighter you are, to be sure. Real little devil, aren't you. Plucky as anything.”
“Kind of you to say so.”
“I was talking to the rat, mister.” He prodded Keith with his boot. “Go and tie up these two somewhere, OK? We'll put them in one of the other cellars for now. One with a proper door. And a proper lock. And no handy little trapdoors. And you give me the key.”
“She's the mayor's daughter,” said Rat-catcher 2. “Mayors can get really upset about daughters.”
“Then he'll do what he's told, right?”
“You gonna give that rat a good squeezing?”
“What, a fighter like this one? Are you joking? It's thinking like that that'll keep you a rat-catcher's assistant your whole life. I've got a much better idea. How many's in the special cage?”
Maurice watched Rat-catcher 2 go and examine one of the other cages on the far wall.
“Only two rats left. They've eaten the other four,” he reported. “Just skin left. Very neat.”
“Ah, so they'll be full o' vim and vinegar. Well, we'll see what they do to him, shall we?”
Maurice heard a little wire door open and shut.
Hamnpork was seeing red. It filled his vision. He'd been angry for months, down inside, angry at humans, angry at the poisons and the traps, angry at the way younger rats weren't showing respect, angry that the world was changing so fast, angry that he was growing old… And now the smells of terror and hunger and violence met the anger coming the other way and they mingled and flowed through Hamnpork in a great red river of rage. He was a cornered rat. But he was a cornered rat who could think. He'd always been a vicious fighter, long before there was all this thinking, and he was still very strong. A couple of dumb, swanking young keekees with no tactics and no experience of down-and-dirty cellar fighting and no fancy footwork and no thoughts were simply not a contest. A tumble, a twist and two bites were all it took…
The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents d(-1 Page 9