The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents (14 page)

Darktan took a deep, fiery breath.

“
Think
, you…miserable widdler!”

“Er, er…it's all rusty…. Er…Rust everywhere! Looks like…er…could be a…Breakback.” There was a scratching noise behind Darktan. “Yes! I gnawed the rust off! It says Nugent Brothers Breakback Mk.1, sir!”

Darktan tried to think as the constant, dreadful pressure squeezed him further. Mk.1? Ancient! Something out of the dawn of time! The oldest he'd ever seen was an Improved Breakback Mk.7! And all he had to help him was Nourishing, a complete
drrtlt
with four left feet.

“Can you…see how…” he began, but there were purple lights in front of his eyes now, a great tunnel of purple lights. He tried again as he felt himself drift toward the lights. “Can…you…see…how…the…spring…”

“It's all rusted, sir!” came the panicking voice. “It looks like it's a nonreturn action like on the Jenkins and Jenkins Big Snapper, sir, but it hasn't got the hook on the end! What does this bit do, sir? Sir?
Sir?
”

Darktan felt the pain go away. So this is how it happens, he thought dreamily. Too late now. She'll panic, and she'll run. That's what we do.
When we're in trouble, we bolt for the first hole. Even me. But it doesn't matter. It
is
just like a dream, after all. Nothing to worry about. Quite nice, really. Perhaps there really
is
a Big Rat Deep Under the Ground. That'd be nice.

He drifted happily, in the warm silence. There were bad things happening, but they were a long way off and they didn't matter anymore….

He thought he heard a sound behind him, like rat claws moving across a stone floor. Perhaps it's Nourishing running away, part of him thought. But another part thought: Perhaps it is the Bone Rat.

The idea didn't frighten him. Nothing could frighten him here. Anything bad that could happen already had. He felt that if he turned his head, he'd see something. But it was easier just to float in this big, warm space.

The purple light was darkening now, to a deep blue and, in the center of the blue, a circle of black.

It looked like a rat tunnel.

If the youngsters were right and there is a Bone Rat, he thought, then that means maybe there is also the Big Rat.

And that's where he lives, thought Darktan.
That's the tunnel of the Big Rat. How simple it all is.

A shining white dot appeared in the center of the tunnel and got bigger quickly.

And here he comes, thought Darktan. He must know a
lot
, the Big Rat. I wonder what he's going to tell me.

The light grew bigger and did indeed begin to look like a rat.

How strange, thought Darktan, as the blue light faded into the black, to find it's all true. Off we go, then, into the tunn—

There was noise. It filled the world. And the terrible, terrible pain was back. And the Big Rat shouted, in the voice of Nourishing:

“I gnawed through the spring, sir! I gnawed through the spring! It was old and weak, sir! Prob'ly why you weren't cut in half, sir! Can you hear me, sir? Darktan? Sir? I gnawed all the way through the spring, sir! Are you still dead, sir? Sir?”

 

Rat Catcher 1 leaped out of his chair, his hands bunching into fists.

At least, it started out as a leap. About halfway it turned into a stagger. He sat down heavily,
clutching at his stomach.

“Oh, no. Oh, no. I
knew
that tea tasted funny,” he muttered.

Rat Catcher 2 had gone a pale green.

“You nasty little—” he began.

“And don't even think of attacking us,” said Malicia. “Otherwise you'll never walk out of here. And we might get hurt and forget where we left the
antidote
. You haven't got
time
to attack us.”

Rat Catcher 1 tried standing up again, but his legs didn't want to play.

“What poison was it?” he muttered.

“By the smell of it, it's the one the rats call Number Three,” said Keith. “It was in the bag labeled ‘Killalot!!!!'”

“The
rats
call it Number Three?” said Rat Catcher 2.

“They know a lot about poison,” said Keith.

“And they told you about this antidote, yeah?” said Rat Catcher 2.

Rat Catcher 1 glared at him. “We
heard
them talk, Bill. In the pit, remember?” He looked back at Keith and shook his head. “Nah,” he said. “You don't look like the kind of kid that'd poison a man to his face—”

“How about me?” said Malicia, leaning forward.

“
She
would! She
would
!” said Rat Catcher 2, clutching at his colleague's arm. “She's
weird
, that one. Everyone says so!” He clutched his stomach again and leaned forward, groaning.

“
You
said something about an antidote,” said Rat Catcher 1 to Malicia. “But there's no antidote to Killalot!!!!”

“And I told you there is,” said Keith. “The rats found one.”

Rat Catcher 2 fell to his knees. “Please, young sir! Have mercy! If not for me, please think of my dear wife and my four lovely children who'll be without their daddy!”

“You're not married,” said Malicia. “You don't have any children!”

“I might want some one day!”

“What happened to that rat you took away?” said Keith.

“Dunno, sir. A rat in a hat come down out of the roof and grabbed it and flew away!” Rat Catcher 2 burbled. “And then
another
big rat come down into the pit, shouted at everyone, bit Jacko on the—on the unutterables, and jumped right out of the pit and did a runner!”

“Sounds like your rats are all right,” said Malicia to Keith.

“I haven't finished,” said Keith. “You
stole
from
everyone and blamed it on the rats, didn't you?”

“Yes! That's it! Yes! We did, we did!”

“You killed the rats,” said Maurice quietly.

Rat Catcher 1's head turned sharply. There was an edge to that voice that he recognized. He'd heard it at the pit. You got them there sometimes, high-rolling types with fancy vests, who traveled through the mountains making a living by betting and sometimes making a killing by knives. They had a look to their eye and a tone to their voice. They were known as “killing gentlemen.” You didn't cross a killing gentleman.

“Yes, yes, that's right, we did!” babbled Rat Catcher 2.

“Just go carefully there, Bill,” said Rat Catcher 1, still eyeing Keith.

“
Why
did you do it?” asked Keith.

Rat Catcher 2 looked from his boss to Malicia and then to Keith, as if trying to decide who frightened him the most.

“Well, Ron said the rats ate stuff
anyway
,” he said. “So…he said if we got rid of
all
the rats and pinched the stuff ourselves, well, it wouldn't exactly be like
stealing
, would it? More like…
rearranging
stuff. There's a bloke Ron knows who comes up with a sailing barge in the middle of the night and pays us—”

“That is a diabolical lie!” snapped Rat Catcher 1, and then looked as if he was going to be sick.

“But you caught rats alive and crammed them into cages without food,” Keith went on. “They live on rats, those rats. Why did you do that?”

Rat Catcher 1 clutched at his stomach.

“I can feel things happening!” he said.

“That's just your imagination!” snapped Keith.

“It is?”

“Yes. Don't you know
anything
about the poisons you use? Your stomach won't start to melt for at least twenty minutes.”

“Wow!” said Malicia, seriously impressed.

“And after that,” said Keith, “if you blow your nose, your brain will—well, let's just say you'll need a really
big
handkerchief.”

“This is great!” said Malicia, rummaging in her bag. “I'm going to take notes!”

“And then if you…. Well, just don't go to the lavatory, that's all. Don't ask why. Just don't. It'll all be over in an hour, except for the oozing.”

Malicia was scribbling fast. “Will they go runny?” she said.

“Very,” said Keith.

“This is inhuman!” shrieked Rat Catcher 2.

“No, it's very human,” said Keith. “It's
extremely
human. There isn't a beast in the world that'd do
it to another living thing, but your poisons do it to rats every day.
Now tell me about the rats in the cages.
”

Sweat was pouring down the assistant rat catcher's face. He looked as if he, too, was caught in a trap.

“See, rat catchers have always caught rats alive for the rat pits,” he moaned. “It's a perk. Nothing wrong with it! Always done it! So we had to keep up a supply, so we bred 'em. Had to! No harm in feeding 'em dead rats from the rat pits. Everyone knows rats eat rats, if you leave out the green wobbly bit! And then—”

“Oh? There's a then?” said Keith, calmly.

“Ron said if we bred rats from the rats that survived in the pit, you know, the ones that dodged the dogs, well, we'd end up with bigger, better rats, see?”

“That's
scientific
, that is,” said Rat Catcher 1.

“What would be the point of that?” said Malicia.

“Well, miss, we—Ron said—we thought—I thought—we thought that—well, it's not exactly
cheating
to put really tough rats in amongst the others, see, especially if the dog that's going in is a bit borderline. Where's the harm in that? Give us an edge, see, when it comes to betting. I
thought—he thought—”

“You seem a bit confused about whose idea it was,” said Keith.

“His,” said the rat catchers together.

Mine,
said a voice in Maurice's head. He almost fell off his perch.
What does not kill us makes us strong,
said the voice of Spider.
The strongest breed.

“You mean,” said Malicia, “if we didn't have rat catchers here, we'd have
fewer
rats?” She paused, head on one side. “No, that's not right. It doesn't feel right. There's something else. Something you haven't told us. Those rats in those cages are…mad, insane…”

I'd be too, Maurice thought, with this horrible voice in my head every hour of the day.

“I'm going to throw up,” said Rat Catcher 1. “I am, I'm going to—”

“Don't,” said Keith, watching Rat Catcher 2. “You won't like it. Well, Mr. Assistant Rat Catcher?”

“Ask them what's in the other cellar,” said Maurice. He said it fast; he could feel the voice of Spider try to stop his mouth moving even as the sentence came out.

“What is in the other cellar, then?” said Keith.

“Oh, just more stuff, old cages, stuff like
that…” said Rat Catcher 2.

“What else?” said Maurice.

“Only the…only the…that's where…” The rat catcher's mouth opened and shut. His eyes bulged.

“Can't say,” he said. “Er. There's nothing. Yeah, that's it. There's nothing in there, just the old cages. Oh, and plague. Don't go in there, 'cos there's plague. That's why you shouldn't go in there, see? 'Cos of the plague.”

“He's lying,” said Malicia. “No antidote for
him
.”

“I had to do it!” Rat Catcher 2 moaned. “You've gotta do one to join the Guild!”

“That's a Guild secret!” Rat Catcher 1 snapped at him. “We
don't
give away Guild secrets—” He stopped and clutched at his rumbling stomach.

“What was it you had to do?” asked Keith.

“Make a rat king!” Rat Catcher 2 burst out.

“A rat
king
?” said Keith sharply. “What's a rat king?”

“I—I—I—” the man stuttered. “Stop it, I—I—I don't want to—” Tears ran down his face. “We—I made a rat king—stop it, stop it—stop it…a rat king…”

“And it's still alive?” said Malicia.

Keith turned to her in amazement. “
You
know
about these things?” he said.

“Of course. There's a lot of stories about them. Rat kings are deadly evil. They—”

“Antidote, antidote,
please
,” moaned Rat Catcher 2. “My stomach feels like there's rats running round in it!”

“You
made
a rat king,” said Malicia. “Oh, dear. Well, we left the antidote in that little cellar you locked us up in. I should hurry, if I was you.”

Both of the men staggered to their feet. Rat Catcher 1 fell through the trapdoor. The other man landed on him. Swearing, moaning, and, it has to be said, farting enormously, they made their way to the cellar.

Dangerous Beans's candle was still alight. Beside it was a fat twist of paper.

The door was slammed behind the men. There was the sound of a piece of wood being wedged under it.

“Oh, we forgot to mention that there's only enough antidote for one person,” said Keith's voice, muffled through the wood. “But I'm sure you can sort it out—in a humane sort of way.”

 

Darktan tried to get his breath back, but he thought he'd never get it all, even if he breathed in for a year. There was a ring of pain all around
his back and chest.

“It's amazing!” said Nourishing. “You were dead in the trap and now you're alive!”

“Nourishing?” said Darktan carefully.

“Yes, sir?”

“I'm very…grateful,” said Darktan, still wheezing, “but don't get silly. The spring was stretched and weak and…the teeth were rusted and blunt. That's all.”

“But there's teeth marks all round you! No one's ever come out of a trap before, except the Mr. Squeakys, and they were made of rubber!”