3--

It was about this time that Sid arrived at the other side of Chinatown. He gaped at the surroundings for a while.

"Boy, a bloke leaves a place for a few months and they go and change everything."

"Good grief, mate, are you alright?"

Sid turned to see a short, stocky mouse behind a food cart. The suggestion of food reminded him of the last time he had eaten, which was ages ago. He was more than motivated to stop and chat.

"Heh, sure I am! Why not?"

"Sorry, just looked like you were run over by a bus or somethin'."

"Say, you happen to have teeny-weenies in there?"

"Oh, sorry mate, it's Chinatown, y'know? Mostly fruit and nuts sell 'round here," said the Fruit-seller, showing Sid a cart piled with grapes, almonds, celery, and a few items Sid couldn't identify but was sure he had ignored recently. The rat wrinkled his nose at the sight, missing Kensington for a moment, but the memory of the cats snapped him back to the present.

"No worries, mate, I'm actually lookin' for an old friend. He's a rat, like me...well, maybe not much like me," Sid grinned, "...about so high, skinny, dapper, talks all fancy..."

"Oh, you must mean Millicent Bystander!"

Sid raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"

"Oh, most everyone who attended the World Cup Finals last year knows about him...he saved the town, he did! Quite a guy, knew all about the local Crime Boss' plan to flush the city away at halftime..."

"Yeah, that'd be him!"

"Well, he's partners with Rita Malone in a delivery and salvage service. Kinda mid-profile, you could track 'em down pretty easy by askin' around. I'd head for the docks, if I was you. They're bound to swing by some time or other."

"Much appreciated, me friend!" Sid called, dashing off for the docks.

Back to the other side of Chinatown, Spike and his thugs had just recovered from their encounter with Roddy and Rita. Spike was fuming on the inside, but he dared not show it, since he was still intent on earning some street cred, AND scoring vengeance on Rita. The best way to do that was with a gang, and it wouldn't do to alienate his lads at the moment. Besides, their recent acquisition made the second aim dramatically more possible. No more need for tricks. They had chosen one of the smarter-looking dives in the area to lick wounds before tracking down their prey.

"Well, I hope you lads are rested up...dried off yet, Whitey?"

"Nothin' to it, Spike," said Whitey. "I kept me legs straight, you know..."

"Nice," groaned Spike. "Now, lissen up...Rita should be easier to track down, now that Millicent, or Roddy, or whatever he calls himself now is outta the picture. There's just the old man now, and if I know Rita, she's still gonna look for a silver lining. We're gonna be hiding just behind it, though, ready to strike..." At this, Spike threw a mock punch far too enthusiastically, tossing himself backward in his chair. The others stifled laughter as Whitey made an observation.

"Couldn't we just take the silver, Spike? Seems like that would be easier..."

"Just pay attention, Whitey," whispered Spike, leaning against the lava lamp. "Here's the plan..."

Rita could barely believe what was happening. By far, this was the most helpless she had ever felt, as she cradled her head in her hands, concentrating her energy in fighting back tears. The kindly curator had indeed brought them to Chinatown's finest physician, whose staff had begun to work on saving Roddy right away. The doctor was very honest, which was something Rita liked. Unfortunately, he did share that it didn't look good, since Roddy had lost quite a bit of blood, and whenever they did stabilize him and get him out of danger, the chances were good that he wouldn't be traveling for a while.

"Here, Rita, dear. I thought you might need this."

The curator, Jonas Merriman, handed Rita a cup of water. Rita hadn't noticed how dry her mouth was with worrying about her first mate. Taking the cup, she also noticed for the first time how much she was shaking. She took a small sip, then rested the cup on the table before them.

"Thank you, Mr. Merriman."

"Jonas, my dear, please. I feel just horrible about all this..." Jonas placed a hand on Rita's shoulder as he spoke.

"No, this whole score was my idea...and those thugs were after me. I got Roddy into this, and now...and now one of the best friends...I've ever had...might...might..." Rita was overcome, she sobbed quietly, but uncontrollably, as kindly Jonas embraced her.

"Now, now. You mustn't even think that! It will all turn out right, we need only believe."

Rita managed a brave smile, but she wasn't really convinced. She had prided herself on a devil-may-care stance toward things; part of her motivation for spending so much time away from a house filled with kids. It was difficult to watch out for someone because you had to, but harder still was watching out for someone because you wanted to. Sure, she loved her family, and she had seen her dad through a number of scrapes, but with Roddy, it was different. He was the first person to risk himself for her outright. The more she thought of it, the more convinced she was that Merriman was right. She had to believe. It was only right that she and Roddy finish the job...

Rita sprang to her feet. "The lamp! It's still at the docks with those blighters! We have to..."

"Oh, Ms. Rita, forget the lamp. I think the young chap still needs you! I will happily compensate you both for your trouble..."

"I appreciate that, Jonas, but a Malone never leaves a job half-done. Please watch over Roddy for me. I won't be long..."

"But those hooligans! You can't mean to face them alone!"

"Well, we did leave them out-of-sorts," Rita thought out loud, with a note of desperation. "Maybe I'll get lucky, and the lamp will still be down at the docks. In any case, I have to do this. For Roddy..."

Rita squeezed a worried Jonas' paw briefly, then strode out the clinic door and into the dusk with purpose.