The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents

tricks he'd learned! Why should he give it all away? That'd mean any young rat would know as much as him!

Dangerous Beans had said: We co-operate, or we die.

That had become the next Thought. “Co-operate” had been difficult, but even keekees would sometimes lead a blind or wounded comrade, and that was certainly cooperation. The thick line, where she'd pressed heavily, had to mean “no”. The trap sign could mean “die” or “bad” or “avoid”.

The last Thought on the paper was: Not to Widdle where you Eat. That one was quite simple.

She grasped the piece of lead in both paws and carefully drew: No Rat to Kill Another Rat.

She sat back. Yes… not bad… “trap” was a good sign for death, and she'd added the dead rat to make it all more serious.

“But supposing you have to?” she said, still staring at the drawings.

“Then you have to,” said Dangerous Beans. “But you shouldn't.”

Peaches shook her head sadly. She supported Dangerous Beans because there was… well, something about him. He wasn't big or fast and he was almost blind and quite weak and sometimes he forgot to eat because he came up with thoughts that nobody—at least, nobody who was a rat—had thought before. Most of them had annoyed Hamnpork no end, like the time when Dangerous Beans had said, “What is a rat?” and Hamnpork had replied, “Teeth. Claws. Tail. Run. Hide. Eat. That's what a rat is.”

Dangerous Beans had said, “But now we can also say ‘what is a rat?’” he said. “And that means we're more than that.”

“We're rats,” Hamnpork had argued. “We run around and squeak and steal and make more rats. That's what we're made for!”

“Who by?” Dangerous Beans had said, and that had led to another argument about the Big Rat Deep Under The Ground theory.

But even Hamnpork followed Dangerous Beans, and so did rats like Darktan and Donut Enter, and they listened when he talked.

Peaches listened when they talked. “We were given noses,” Darktan had told the squads. Who had given them noses? The thoughts of Dangerous Beans worked their ways into other people's heads without them noticing.

He came up with new ways of thinking. He came up with new words. He came up with ways of understanding the things that were happening to them. Big rats, rats with scars, listened to the little rat because the Change had led them into dark territory and he seemed to be the only one with an idea of where they were going.

She left him sitting by the candle and went and looked for Hamnpork. He was sitting by a wall. Like most of the old rats he always stuck close to walls, and kept away from open spaces and too much light.

He seemed to be shaking.

“Are you all right?” she said.

The shaking stopped. “Fine, fine, nothing wrong with me!” snapped Hamnpork. “Just a few twinges, nothing permanent!”

“Only I noticed you didn't go out with any of the squads,” said Peaches.

“There's nothing wrong with me!” shouted the old rat.

“We've still got some potatoes in the baggage—”

“I don't want any food ! There is nothing wrong with me!”

… which meant that there was. It was the reason he didn't want to share all the things he knew. What he knew was all he had left. Peaches knew what rats traditionally did to leaders who were too old. She'd watched Hamnpork's face when Darktan—younger, stronger Darktan—had been talking to his squads, and knew that Hamnpork was thinking about it, too. Oh, he was fine when people were watching him, but lately he'd been resting more, and skulking in corners.

Old rats were driven out, to lurk around by themselves and go rotten and funny in the head. Soon there would be another leader.

Peaches wished she could make him understand one of the Thoughts of Dangerous Beans, but the old rat didn't much like talking to females. He'd grown up thinking females weren't for talking to.

The Thought was:

It meant: We Are The Changelings. We Are Not Like Other Rats.

CHAPTER 4

The important thing about adventures, thought Mr. Bunnsy, was that they shouldn't be so long as to make you miss mealtimes.

—From “Mr. Bunnsy Has an Adventure”

The kid and the girl and Maurice were in a large kitchen. The kid could tell it was a kitchen because of the huge black iron range in the chimney breast and the pans hanging on the walls and the long scarred table. What it didn't seem to have was what a kitchen traditionally had, which was food.

The girl went to a metal box in the corner and fumbled round her neck for a string which, it turned out, held a large key. “You can't trust anybody,” she said. “And the rats steal a hundred times what they eat, the devils.”

“I don't think they do,” said the kid. “Ten times, at most.”

“You know all about rats all of a sudden?” said the girl, unlocking the metal case.

“Not all of a sudden, I learned it when—Ow! That really hurt!”

“Sorry about that,” said Maurice. “I accidentally scratched you, did I?” He tried to make a face which said Don't be a complete twerp, OK? which is quite hard to do with a cat's head.

The girl gave him a suspicious look, and then turned back to the metal box. “There's some milk that's not gone hard yet and a couple of fish-heads,” she said, peering inside.

“Sounds good to me,” said Maurice.

“What about your human?”

“Him? He'll eat any old scraps.”

“There's bread and sausage,” said the girl, taking a can from the metal cupboard. “We're all very suspicious about the sausages. There's a tiny bit of cheese, too, but it's rather ancestral.”

“I don't think we should eat your food if it's so short,” said the kid. “We have got money.”

“Oh, my father says it'd reflect very badly on the town if we weren't hospitable. He's the mayor, you know.”

“He's the government?” said the kid.

The girl stared at him. “I suppose so,” she said. “Funny way of putting it. The town council makes the laws, really. He just runs the place and argues with everyone. And he says we shouldn't have any more rations than other people, to show solidarity in these difficult times. It was bad enough that tourists stopped visiting our hot baths, but the rats have made it a lot worse.” She took a couple of saucers from the big kitchen dresser. “My father says that if we're all sensible there will be enough to go around,” she went on. “Which I think is very commendable. I entirely agree. But I think that once you've shown solidarity, you should be allowed just a little extra. In fact, I think we get a bit less