The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents

“There's no sub-texts, no social commentary…” Malicia went on, still fiddling. “The most interesting thing that happens at all is when Doris the Duck loses a shoe—a duck losing a shoe, right?—and it turns up under the bed after they've spent the entire story looking for it. Do you call that narrative tension? Because I don't. If people are going to make up stupid stories about animals pretending to be human, at least there could be a bit of interesting violence…”

“Oh, boy,” said Maurice, from behind the grating.

This time Keith did look down. Peaches and Dangerous Beans had gone. “You know, I never had the heart to tell them,” he said, not to anyone in particular. “They thought it was all true.”

“In the land of Furry Bottom, possibly,” said Malicia, and stood up as the lock gave a final click. “But not here. Can you imagine someone actually invented that name and didn't laugh? Let's go.”

“You upset them,” said Keith.

“Look, shall we get out of here before the rat-catchers come back?” said Malicia.

The thing about this girl, Maurice thought, was that she was no good at all at listening to the way people spoke. She wasn't much good at listening, if it came to that.

“No,” said Keith.

“No what?”

“No, I'm not coming with you,” said Keith. “There's something bad going on here, much worse than stupid men stealing food.”

Maurice watched them argue again. Humans, eh? Think they're lords of creation. Not like us cats. We know we are. Ever see a cat feed a human? Case proven.

How the humans shout, hissed a tiny voice in his head.

Is that my conscience? Maurice thought. His own thoughts said: what, me? No. But I feel a lot better now you told them about Additives. He shifted uneasily from paw to paw. “Well then,” he whispered, looking at his stomach, “is that you, Additives?”

He'd been worried about that ever since he'd realized he'd eaten a Changeling. They had voices, right? Supposing you ate one? Suppose their voice stayed inside you? Suppose the… the dream of Additives around inside him? That sort of thing could seriously interfere with a cat's napping time, it really could.

No, said the voice, like the sound of wind in distant trees, it is I. I am… SPIDER.

“Oh, you're a spider?” whispered thought-Maurice. “I could take on a spider with three paws tied behind my back.”

Not a spider. SPIDER.

The word actually hurt. It hadn't before.

Now I'm in your HEAD, cat. Cats, cats, bad as dogs, worse than rats. I'm in your HEAD, and I will never go AWAY.

Maurice's paw jerked.

I'll be in your DREAMS.

“Look, I'm just passing through,” Maurice whispered desperately. “I'm not looking for trouble. I'm unreliable! I'm a cat! I wouldn't trust me, and I am me! Just let me get into the nice fresh air and I'll be right out of your… hair or legs or furry bits or whatever!”

You don't want to run AWAY.

That's right, thought Maurice, I don't want to run—Hold on, I do want to run away!

“I'm a cat!” he muttered. “No rat is going to control me. You've tried!”

Yes, came the voice of Spider, but then you were STRONG. Now your little mind runs in circles and wants someone else to do the thinking for it. I can think for you.

I can think for EVERYONE.

I will always be with you.

The voice faded away.

Right, thought Maurice. Time to say farewell, then, Bad Blintz. The party is over. The rats have got lots of other rats and even these two humans have got one another, but I've just got me and I'd like to get me somewhere where strange voices don't talk to me.

“'scuse me,” he said, raising his voice. “Are we going or what?”

The two humans turned to look at the grating.

“What?” said Keith.

“I'd prefer going,” said Maurice. “Pull this grating out, will you? It's rusted right through, it shouldn't be a problem. Good lad. And then we can make a run for it—”

“They've called in a rat piper, Maurice,” said Keith. “And the Clan is all over the place. He'll be here in the morning. A real rat piper, Maurice. Not a fake one like me. They have magical pipes, you know. Do you want to see that happen to our rats?”

His new conscience gave Maurice a good kicking. “Well, not exactly see,” he said reluctantly. “Not as such, no.”

“Right. So we're not going to run away,” said Keith.

“Oh? And what are we going to do, then?” said Malicia.

“We're going to talk to the rat-catchers when they come back,” said Keith. He had a thoughtful look.

“And what makes you think they'll want to talk to us?”

“Because if they don't talk to us,” said Keith, “they're going to die.”