The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents

Darktan took one look and knew that, for this rat, it was all over. It was only a matter of time. For the rats back in Scrote, it had been a matter of horrible time.

“I could bite her in the back of the neck,” a rat volunteered. “It'd be all over quickly.”

“It's a kind thought, but that stuff gets into the blood,” said Darktan. “Find a snapper trap that hasn't been made safe. Do it carefully.”

“Put a rat in a trap, sir?” said Nourishing.

“Yes! Better die fast than slow!”

“Even so, it's—” the rat who had volunteered to do the biting started to protest.

The hairs around Darktan's face stood out. He reared up and showed his teeth. “Do what you're told or I'll bite you!” he roared.

The other rat crouched back. “All right, Darktan, all right…”

“And warn all the other squads!” Darktan bellowed. “This isn't rat-catching, this is war! Everyone's to pull back smartly! No-one touch nothing! We're going to—Yes? What is it this time?”

A small rat had crept up to Darktan. As the trap-hunter spun around, the rat crouched hurriedly, almost rolling on its back to show how small and harmless it was.

“Please, sir…” it mumbled.

“Yes?”

“This time we've found a live one…”

CHAPTER 6

There were big adventures and small adventures, Mr. Bunnsy knew. You didn't get told what size they were going to be before you started. Sometimes you could have a big adventure even when you were standing still.

—From “Mr. Bunnsy Has an Adventure”

“Hello? Hello, it's me. And I'm going to give the secret knock now!” There were three knocks on the stable door, and then Malicia's voice rose again with “Hello, did you hear the secret knock?”

“Perhaps she'll go away if we keep quiet,” said Keith, in the straw.

“I shouldn't think so,” said Maurice. He raised his voice and called out, “We're up here!”

“You've still got to give the secret knock,” shouted Malicia.

“Oh, prbllttrrrp,” said Maurice under his breath, and fortunately no human knows how bad a swearword that is in cat language. “Look, this is me, OK? A cat? Which talks? How will you recognize me? Shall I wear a red carnation?”

“I don't think you're a proper talking cat, anyway,” said Malicia, climbing the ladder. She was still wearing black, and had bundled up her hair under a black scarf. She also had a big bag slung from her shoulder.

“Gosh, you've got that right,” said Maurice.

“I mean, you don't wear boots and a sword and have a big hat with a feather in it,” said the girl, pulling herself into the loft.

Maurice gave her a long stare. “Boots?” he said at last. “On these paws?”

“Oh, it was in a picture in a book I read,” said Malicia, calmly. “A silly one for children. Full of animals that dressed up as humans.”

It crossed Maurice's cat mind, and not for the first time, that if he moved fast he could be out of the city in five minutes and on to a barge or something.

Once, when he was no more than a kitten, he'd been taken home by a small girl who'd dressed him up in doll's clothes and sat him at a small table with a couple of dolls and three-quarters of a teddy bear. He'd managed to escape through an open window, but it had taken him all day to get out of the dress. That girl could have been Malicia. She thought animals were just people who hadn't been paying enough attention.

“I don't do clothes,” he said. It wasn't much of a line, but it was probably better than saying “I think you are a loony”.

“Could be an improvement,” said Malicia. “It's nearly dark. Let's go! We shall move like cats!”

“Oh, right,” said Maurice. “I expect I can do that.”

Although, he thought a few minutes later, no cats ever moved like Malicia. She obviously thought that it was no good looking inconspicuous unless people could see that you were being inconspicuous. People in the street actually stopped to watch her as she sidled along walls and scuttled from one doorway to another. Maurice and Keith strolled along after her. No-one paid them any attention.

Eventually, in a narrow street, she stopped at a black building with a big wooden sign hanging over the door. The sign showed a lot of rats, a sort of star made of rats, with all their tails tied together in a big knot.

“Sign of the ancient Guild of Rat-catchers,” whispered Malicia, swinging her bag off her shoulder.

“I know,” said Keith. “It looks horrible.”

“Makes an interesting design, though,” said Malicia.

One of the most significant things about the door below the sign was the big padlock holding it shut. Odd, Maurice thought. If rats make your legs explode, why do rat-catchers have to have a big lock on their shed?

“Luckily, I'm prepared for every eventuality,” said Malicia, and reached into her bag. There was a sound as of lumps of metal and bottles being moved around.