If you haven't read the above-mentioned book already, do so. It's a soulful and thrilling read for any age, plus this story will make more sense afterwards. All credit for these characters goes to the knight who wrote the book on L-Space. I'm just a visitor with a squashed membership card and a few funny looks from the Librarian about leaving behind bookmarks in my returns.
Lines have been translated into human-talk for your convenience. Have a nice trip.
Gasping, the soaked rat dragged itself up onto the riverbank. It limped into the grasses, filthy water draining from its charred and torn fur. The sheer drive to get away from that underground inferno and vicious beast had set it squeezing through walls, darting down the first drain it found and tumbling into the almost-water, utterly dark rapids rolling and tossing it in every direction.
Air… shelter…
The shadows of bushes and trees fell over it as it felt a stab in its gut that (this time) had nothing to do with blood. Food… Waving its nose sluggishly through the air, it staggered through the brush until it reached a sweet-smelling bush. In the act of fumbling to pick up a fallen berry, it failed to notice the extra creak of a wooden branch. Then it looked up and saw the wings blotting out the sky.
Legs limp, it did not run, instead twitching its ragged stump of a tail. Holding its head steady, it struggled to make eye contact with the hawk. It mustered a faint squeak, faintly baring its teeth and laying back its ears just before the talons clamped and pierced its neck.
\\\
When he opened his eyes, there was no smell of bushes or soil, trees or hawks. In fact, the sight of the forest around him had gone faint and blurry. The air was lukewarm, the light fell dimmer, and the soil beneath felt less springy and more fluid, like dark sand.
A sound of feet in the sand snapped his gaze around. Another rat? But this one had no smell either, and it stood on two paws. It also had a dark bit of cloth draped over it, and it held a stick topped with a fang of metal that seemed too sharp for his comfort.
It gave a squeak colder than a stone falling down a well. FOLLOW ME.
The rat scurried off immediately after the cloaked one. The two of them made their way across the valley, which had gone from resembling sand to a total desert. No scents in the air, no tracks in their path, no sounds—
His ear twitched. There was something, not too far off to the side. A squeak? More than one.
IT WOULD BE SAFER IF YOU KEPT WALKING FORWARDS.
The rat looked down at his slowing feet, discovering that they had veered away from the cloaked rat. Even so, he kept moving in his slanted path, and then he saw other shapes more clearly in the gloom ahead.
Multiple rats milled around in the sand, noses sweeping back and forth, half-hungry squeaks escaping their throats. They stared at nothing, but some lingered in his direction for a few instants, and he realized he was nearing them much more quickly. Soon, they were all together – five of them, no, six, seven…
Plus one more.
Their noses, their heads, their eyes stopped surveying at random, but stopped, then all turned to face the cloaked rat.
…Then it is over. All of my minds are dead.
THAT HAPPENS EVENTUALLY. MOST RATS LOSE EVERYTHING AT ONCE.
Is it too much to hope that the cat died in the fire?
Delivering his words with care, the Bone Rat replied, HE SURVIVED…
The overlap of rats – Spider, he remembered – shrieked and gnashed his teeth.
…THOUGH IT WAS A CLOSE THING, ESPECIALLY AFTER CARRYING A RAT OUT OF THAT FIRE.
Spider's gaze reassembled on the cloaked one. Unthinkable. No cat or rat would ever rescue the other!
HE DID. THE ONE HE RESCUED VERY NEARLY DID THE SAME FOR HIM. I BELIEVE IT WAS THE RAT THEY CALL "DANGEROUS BEANS."
Confusion flickered among his faces. That was the white, nearly-blind rat from the very end. The one who had stared straight at him, heard all his anger, and had denied him. Him! All his fire and vengeance had fallen on deaf ears… deaf… What is happening to me? Why do I feel cold inside my lungs, in my head?
YOU DO NOT HAVE LUNGS OR A HEAD. YOU HAVE NO BLOOD OR PULSE, NO STOMACH OR HUNGER. "FEELINGS" HAVE OTHER MEANINGS HERE, AND THERE ARE FEWER OF THEM.
Spider's many legs felt numb, and his gazes began to drift a bit across the sand. Certain words began slipping away from his minds – hatred… power… prey… Blank. Standing in empty sand. What am I now? What is left?
YOU ARE RATS, AND THIS IS YOUR TRAIL. FOLLOW ME.
The crowd of rats shuffled along after the cloaked rat, leaving a confused mess of footprints up and down the ripples of sand. Now and again, the slowest rat would trip over its feet a bit and fall behind by a few inches. Immediately, the rest of the group swooned, their heads drooping until they looked around and swerved towards the stray rat, letting it leap up and spring back into the crowd.
Each time, the skeletal rat paused and waited, looking back just until they had regrouped.
They kept moving, as quickly as they possibly could, though never entirely fast enough. Shuffle, stumble, dizziness, again… Scurry, swerve, confusion, again… The sets of tracks veered wider and frayed across the landscape.
When they were so scattered and facing in all directions that they formed a sluggishly-moving ring, they all squeaked plaintively, turned tail and clustered as tight as they possibly could. I cannot! I will not!
YOU MUST. ALL BEINGS MUST.
No! If I keep going like this, I will fall apart to nothing! I will remain! I will not lose myself!
THAT IS NOT YOU.
Sixteen unnecessarily-heaving lungs stopped moving. What?
YOU STILL BELIEVE THAT YOU ARE ONE, BUT YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN MORE THAN ONE. NOW YOU MUST LEARN TO WALK AS THAT MULTITUDE.
I AM one! I am the rat king! I am s... s- strong! I am strong!
AND THESE? ARE THEY STRONG?
Spider looked around as the other rat gestured with its scythe, and he realized they were not alone.
In any direction, a cluster of rats could be seen huddled on the dark sand. Quite a few masses of four or five, some six, occasionally seven.
Other rat kings?
YES. IT IS NOT A NEW TECHNIQUE.
They have all stopped… They cannot even walk!
Most stared at nothing, noses and tails limp, and even the nearest group of seven only twitched its whiskers and flicked its ears sporadically.
Spider's unspoken voice sagged. Is this what you dragged me here for? To languish and rot?
I DO NOT DRAG. YOU ARRIVED HERE DUE TO OTHER CAUSES. I MARK A PATH SO THAT YOU CAN MOVE ON. WHAT MATTERS NOW IS HOW YOU TAKE THE NEXT STEP.
But how can I walk when they cannot?
THAT IS FOR YOU TO DETERMINE. IT WILL BE A GROUP EFFORT, AND IT WILL NOT HAPPEN BY FORCE. THEY DO NOT KNOW ANY OTHER WAY. YOU DO.
Silence stretched throughout the bleak landscape, before the cluster of rats remembered. The white rat… He spoke of rats being a clan of… something more than rats? Many rats thinking from the view of each other? A shudder ran through the group. How could such a mess of thoughts work?
I UNDERSTAND HUMANS DEAL WITH THAT QUESTION EVERY DAY.
How do they manage it?
I DO NOT KNOW. YOU WOULD HAVE TO ASK MY FELLOW GATHERER. Seeing them drift back into silence, he twitched his whiskered skull at them. I WILL RETURN OCCASIONALLY. IF YOU WISH TO ASK ANYTHING ELSE, I AM ALWAYS LISTENING. He turned and walked away, his tail dragging a line in the sand behind him.
The many rat kings, from the smallest to the very largest, faded from sight into the gloom.
Some distance further, a taller robe appeared beside the skeletal rat. A human skull stared out from that hood, tiny blue firey eyes glinting from its ever-grinning face. DOES THIS GROUP REMAIN ALSO?
The rat climbed up the other's black robe, perching on his shoulder as the other strode onwards. SQUEAK.
OH? GOOD. THEY WILL HAVE PLENTY OF OPPORTUNITY FOR THAT. AND DO YOU BELIEVE THE OTHER GROUPS WILL NOTICE?
SQUEAK.
HMM. The two vanished into the darkness.
Back amidst the sand, the most recent cluster of rats did not fall entirely still. Slowly, occasionally, they sniffed and listened. It would be some time yet before they tried doing so with a combination of rhythms.
