The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents

“He's getting old,” said Peaches. “He needs to rest a lot. And I think he's worried that Darktan or one of the others is going to challenge him.”

“Will they, do you think?”

“Darktan's more wrapped up in breaking traps and testing poisons. There's more interesting things to do now than bite one another.”

“Or do rllk, from what I hear,” said Dangerous Beans.

Peaches looked down, demurely. If rats could blush, she would have done. It was amazing how pink eyes that could hardly see you could look straight through you at the same time. “The ladies are a lot more choosy,” she said. “They want to find fathers who can think.”

“Good,” said Dangerous Beans. “We must be careful. We don't need to breed like rats. We don't have to rely on numbers. We are the Changelings.”

Peaches watched him anxiously. When Dangerous Beans was thinking, he seemed to be staring into a world only he could see. “What is it this time?” she asked.

“I have been thinking that we shouldn't kill other rats. No rat should kill another rat.”

“Even keekees?” she queried.

“They are rats too.”

Peaches shrugged. “Well, we've tried talking to them and that didn't work. Anyway, they mostly stay away these days.”

Dangerous Beans was still staring at the unseen world. “Even so,” he said quietly, “I should like you to write it down.”

Peaches sighed, but went off anyway to one of the packs the rats had carried in and pulled out her bag. It was no more than a roll of cloth with a handle made from a scrap of string, but it was big enough to hold a few matches, some pieces of pencil lead, a tiny sliver of a broken knife blade for sharpening the leads, and a grubby piece of paper. All the important things.

She was also the official carrier of Mr. Bunnsy. “Carrier” wasn't quite correct; “dragger” was mostly more accurate. But Dangerous Beans always liked to know where it was and seemed to think better when it was around, and it gave him some comfort, and that was good enough for Peaches.

She smoothed out the paper on an ancient brick, picked up a piece of lead and looked down the list.

The first Thought had been: In the Clan is Strength.

This had been quite a hard one to translate, but she had made an effort. Most rats couldn't read human. It was just too hard to make the lines and squiggles turn into any sense. So Peaches had worked very hard on making a language that rats could read.

She'd tried to draw a big rat made up of little rats:

The writing had led to trouble with Hamnpork. New ideas needed a running jump to get into the old rat's head. Dangerous Beans had explained in his strange calm voice that writing things down would mean that a rat's knowledge would go on existing even when the rat had died. He said that all the rats could learn the knowledge of Hamnpork. Hamnpork had said: not likely! It'd had taken him years to learn some of the 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.