Location: The Lee of the Stone, Nimh-Beta Uplands.
Day 5For the next three days, Josh stayed well clear of the mice's farm, leaving his shelter only for supplies. Fearful that he might be discovered, he'd also refrained from building any campfires and stayed alert every time he ventured outside the hollow. Following that close shave down at the farm, he now slept restlessly, afraid that the children might give him away. Meanwhile, his problems weren't getting any better.
So far he had been unable to re-establish contact with the NIMH-One. He had tried setting up his emergency transmitter on the forest floor but hadn't picked up any signal from the mothership. What was taking his crew so long? Were they still in orbit, or had they landed? He'd tried doing a ground sweep for a homing signal, but, unfortunately, the Lee of the Stone was situated in a crater, severely limiting his instrument inception radius. He needed someplace high for long-range transmissions. The only favourable spot around here was that peculiarly shaped rock formation which gave this place its name, but with the Brisby farm situated right at the foot of the hill, made it impossible to approach without risking exposing himself again.
Meanwhile, the cold was slowly intensifying. As he couldn't risk building a fire, all he had was his spacesuit to keep him warm at night, making it quite unbearable. He couldn't go on like this forever. Once winter came, he would inevitably be forced to build fires, just to stay alive; and even then, his tree shelter wouldn't suffice to sustain him through, what would probably be, the longest and coldest winter any human being had ever experienced before.
From his survival training, Josh knew the only place to take refuge was underground. Unfortunately, the terrain in the surrounding area was completely flat, without mountains or any other likely places to find caves and other natural-occurring shelters. Nor did he have the tools to build himself one in time.
He had combed every inch of the forest, looking for any place that might serve as a winter shelter, but without success. He had considered returning to the Lee of the Stone and stealing some of those hoes he had seen the mice use on their plantation, to try and dig himself a snow cave. But he knew that if that old mouse caught him around there again, she'd turn him in to the Rats for sure. It was simply out of the question.
Then, there was the problem of food. The wild fruits of the forest wouldn't last him through the winter, as they'd quickly spoil. His emergency rations were also running low; even by restricting himself to a third of the daily allowance recommended in the manual, he was already down to his last tube of protein-gel. He had considered hunting animals for food but soon realised that all the animals here were species that either went into hibernation or immigrated south during winter. There wouldn't be anything left for him to hunt during the freeze. The bottom line was pretty clear: unless he could get help from somewhere, or was rescued, he wasn't going to survive.
It was late afternoon on the fifth day on Nimh-Beta that Josh found himself down at a nearby waterhole, having a wash. Stripping down to his underwear, a small bar of soap from his kit in hand, he took the plunge. The water felt chilly but clean. His analysis of the Nimh-Beta water showed it had a high iron and sulphur content, much like a mineral spring – a far better option to the dirty permafrost of the desert.
Soap was scarce and he wanted to make it last for as long as possible, so he took great care in using it sparingly, constantly reminding himself that he couldn't afford any Earthly luxuries at the moment. Nonetheless, Josh valued proper hygiene and always liked being presentable. Taking out a disposable razor, he got to work, shaving away the itchy stubble slowly growing on his face, using the surface of the water as a mirror. But, without shaving cream, the process was so painful, he figured he'd be better off simply letting nature take its course.
He had just finished zipping back into his overalls and space-suit thermal, which he still wore outside to keep warm, when he heard a chilling scream coming from close by – a somewhat familiar, desperate feminine voice screaming for help. Someone was in trouble! Grabbing his gun, he hurried over to investigate. Tearing through the foliage and into a clearing, his eyes fell upon a sight that made his blood curdle.
Out in the clearing, at the foot of a tree, was one of those humanoid mice lying cowering on the ground, her foot snagged in the crack between two thick tree roots. Towering above her was a gigantic adder, enlarged beyond the size of the largest serpents found on Earth, preparing to strike. The hissing monster had its mouth agape, its poisonous fangs, long as sabres, exposed, as its forked tongue hungrily tasted the air, preparing to devour its helpless, soon-to-be prey.
Snapping out of his trance, Josh sprang into action. Raising his gun, he fired. The snake hissed wildly as the electric bullet blew a sizzling hole straight through the roof of its mouth and out through the back of its head. Mortally wounded, it began thrashing about in its death agonies, its whooshing tail slamming hard into Josh and sending him flying, before it finally crumpled to the ground lifeless.
Groaning in pain, his ribs feeling like they'd been struck with a sledgehammer, Josh shakily got to his feet, breathing a sigh of relief to see that monster dead. Then he remembered the mouse; the poor creature lay curled up in a ball, her face buried in her hands and trembling violently from shock, but otherwise unhurt. Looking closer, he recognised her; it was the children's mother from the farm, Mrs Brisby. What was she doing out here on her own?
For an instant, Josh was tempted to take to his heels and go; the mouse was alive and out of harm's way, and could go her own way without seeing him. But the idea of leaving her there all alone, looking so frail and terrified, got the better of him. Swallowing his sense of safety, he hurried over to make sure she was all right. Looking closely, he saw she'd passed out; her woollen cape was torn from where the snake's fangs had grazed her, but fortunately there were no bite wounds, which would have unquestionably been fatal, given that monster's size.
Damn, she's one lucky mouse, thought Josh. At that moment, she opened her eyes…
Elizabeth Brisby was walking by herself, making her way back from Mr Ages' reclusive home with some medicine for Timothy. For the past three days, her son had been bedridden with a high fever. All her attempts to bring that horrible fever down with hot broths and willow bark tea had been fruitless. With her son now delirious and looking like he might slip away at any moment, the desperate mother had turned to her last resort: her old, eccentric neighbour and his weird concoctions.
Mr Ages had been irate as always for being disturbed, still sore about his spat with Auntie Shrew, but had thankfully agreed to help. Analysing the symptoms up top of his head, he had diagnosed Timothy with pneumonia and given Mrs Brisby a pouch containing some grains of antipyretic salts he had extracted from a healing plant he'd experimenting with – formerly known to humans back on Earth as quinine –, with instructions to keep her son warm and confined to bed for the next few weeks, giving him the medicine in a broth at daily intervals.
Realising her son's life was in even greater danger than she thought, Mrs Brisby had thanked Mr Ages and hurried to return home. Unfortunately, in her anxiety and her attention focused on not spilling the medicine, she'd strayed off the path and gotten lost. In these woods, every sensible mouse knew better than to wonder off alone and always to stay alert for danger; but Mrs Brisby, worried sick for her son's life and dreading the thought that she might already be too late, had made her negate any sense of caution.
It had happened so fast; one minute she had stopped to catch her breath and try and get back her bearings, when she suddenly found herself being chased by the hungry adder. Running for her life, with the reptilian killer in hot pursuit, she hadn't gotten far. With her foot snagged between two tree roots, she watched helplessly as the snake raised its massive head, its fang-lined mouth agape, preparing to swallow her whole. The torturous thought of what would become of her children, who would now be growing up as orphans because of her carelessness, playing over in her mind, Mrs Brisby braced herself for a horrible demise.
I'm so sorry, Jonathan. I let our children down…
But the agonising pain of those massive, poisonous fangs sinking into her flesh never came; her tearful eyes shut tight in terror, suddenly, she heard a thunderous noise, unlike anything she had ever heard before, the snake hissing loudly in pain, followed by a loud thud, and then there was only silence. What had happened? Too scared to open her eyes or even move, Mrs Brisby couldn't take this nightmare anymore and felt herself sink into unconsciousness.
She didn't know how long she lay there, before she woke to someone gently caressing her forehead. As it all came back to her, she shuddered. Was she dead? Slowly, she opened her eyes, half-expecting to see her beloved Jonathan again, only to encounter a new shock.
Crouching above her was the strangest-looking creature she had ever seen before in her life. Although similar to her in many ways, with two arms and two legs, he was unlike any Mouse or Rat she had ever seen. He was completely furless and wearing a strange outfit resembling a suit of armour, which was Josh's spacesuit. On the breastplate she could see letters spelling out the name ANDERSON, as well as a peculiar owl-shaped engraving bearing the words NIMH-I, neither of which made any sense to her.
The stranger was kneeling beside her, looking concerned, if not a tad bit weary at seeing her wake up. Who was he? Where did he come from? Mrs Brisby was neither a fearless, nor a strong mouse and this stranger, almost twice her size, looked fearsome and intimidating! She wanted to scream but the sight of this alien creature kept her petrified with amazement. Her spell of amazement was broken however as she saw the human pull out a knife.
"No!"
With her foot still trapped and unable to run, she curled up into a ball again, expecting to die, "Please, I beg you, think of my children!" she cried, "I'm all they have in the world…!" The stranger seemed taken aback by her cries but didn't back away. Slowly, he reached out to her. Elizabeth thought he was about to run her through with that knife, but instead he spoke in a kind voice, very unlike his intimidating appearance.
"Take it easy there, little lady. I mean you no harm. I'm only trying to help…" It was only then that Mrs Brisby noticed the unmoving carcass of the dead snake lying in the grass beside them, realising that it had been this strange human who had saved her from a terrible death…
Josh froze as the mouse he'd just saved gasped in fear at the sight of him. This time, the cat was really out of the bag. Anything short of capturing her and holding her prisoner until he was rescued, to keep her quiet, he had unthinkingly allowed himself a witness who might give him away at the first opportunity. Despite his uncertainty of how to handle this, he still couldn't help but admire how pretty she was. Her well-groomed, chocolate-brown fur curled around her sweet face, her stunning, sapphire-blue eyes, wide with fear like those of a frightened child, staring back at him.
Noticing her foot was stuck, he pulled out his pocketknife to free her from her entrapment. At the sight of the gleaming blade flipping open in his hand, the frightened mouse began to panic again, thinking he was about to hurt her. Amidst her cries for mercy, Josh struggled to calm her down.
"Take it easy there, little lady. I mean you no harm. I'm only trying to help." His kind voice seemed to calm her somewhat, yet she continued to stare at him in amazement, uncertain of what to make of him.
Satisfied that she wouldn't try and struggle, and maybe hurt herself, Josh got to work. Sliding his knife in the gap between the roots, he managed to pry their snare-like grip loose, so she could pull free, "There you go. See? No harm done." The instant she was free, Josh had half-expected her to bolt, in which case he would be forced to restrain her, but she stayed where she was.
"T…Thank you, sir," she mumbled, still staring at Josh wide-eyed, but at least she wasn't trembling anymore, "I owe you my life. But what…I mean, who are you?" she asked, weary of insulting this stranger that had just pulled her out of the jaws of death.
"Captain Josh Anderson, piloting officer of the NIMH-One starship. I come from planet Earth," said Josh, remembering his manners with the ladies, as he politely offered his hand to shake. Mrs Brisby's blank expression told him she had never heard of Earth or the NIMH-One. The mother mouse hesitated for a moment but then timidly offered her hand as well.
"I'm Elizabeth Brisby," she said, smiling gratefully at Josh, as he gently helped her to her feet. Her voice was as kind and as warm-hearted as her beautiful looks. Josh politely kissed her hand, glad to see his gamble of revealing himself to an inhabitant of this strange planet might actually have been worth it. Five days without any company had been driving him mad. Then he suddenly realised his new friend couldn't stand unaided, clutching her ankle in pain.
"Are you all right? Does it hurt?" he said, catching her before she could trip, "Here, let's have a look at that."
Helping her to sit down on a nearby rock and placing her leg on his lap, he took out his HHC and performed an x-ray scan on her ankle. The digital, high-definition scanner revealed a clear image of the ankle bones, but no traces of red, indicating no fractures – only some mild swelling in the joint area, probably from a mildly torn ligament.
"You're lucky, there's nothing broken. I think you've just sprained it," said Josh, gently massaging her injured ankle with the skill and precision of a trained medic. Unpacking the first aid kit, he took out some bandages and a disposable icepack to bring down the swelling. Mrs Brisby winced slightly as Josh applied the icepack, wondering what kind of 'magical' healing this was, but feeling the pain lessening all the same. "May I ask what were you doing out here all alone?"
"My son Timothy has fallen ill with a fever," she explained, "I'd gone to see my neighbour, Mr Ages for some medicine…Oh, no!" She suddenly gasped, realising she had dropped her pouch of medicine in the chase, "Timmy's medicine! I've lost it…!" She broke down crying, looking awfully distraught. All that trouble she had gone through and nearly getting herself killed in the process, had all been for nothing. Josh, who had just finished bandaging up her ankle, felt his heart melt at the sight of this beautiful creature looking so upset. Tenderly, he sat down beside her and gently pulled her into a comforting embrace.
"There, there now, it's all right," he said reassuringly, letting her cry on his shoulder, "Come on, don't cry…" Mrs Brisby somehow managed to compose herself but it didn't ease her worrying for her son's health in the slightest. She looked desperately at Josh.
"What am I going to do? Mr Ages said he was leaving for Rosebush City tonight on some urgent business and won't be back until next week. Timmy can't last that long without medicine…!" But Josh, who knew how to keep his head in a crisis and think, reassured her. After all, he was a soldier of honour, whose moral duty was to help and protect the weak, and thus was determined to help this poor mouse in any way he could.
"Don't worry, I'll think of something. Now then, what kind of illness is it? Did this...Mr Ages give you a diagnosis of any kind? Anything like that? Come on now, think!" Mrs Brisby struggled hard to remember the old healer mouse's gibberish from earlier that evening, knowing her son's life depended on that information.
"Mr Ages called it…pneu-monia, I think," she explained, struggling to pronounce the word properly, "He said it could be fatal if not treated. Oh, my goodness, not my little Timmy…!" But Josh already had the perfect solution: the ampoules of emergency penicillin in his kit. Although only intended for general use, they had far more potential than any crummy herbal remedy he might find round here. They should be just the thing for a case of pneumonia…assuming, of course, it had no ill side effects on these giant mice, for which it had obviously never been tested. How he wished his friend, Dr Boniface was here now; good old Gordon, the space medical genius, would have been able to give him all the answers in a heartbeat.
"All right, then we haven't got a lot of time," said Josh, suddenly faced with a new dilemma. Timothy would need to be given the penicillin as soon as possible; and since Mrs Brisby was obviously not qualified to administer the medication herself, it would mean another visit to the Lee of the Stone. Did he dare go there again? He had been damned lucky to get away the first time. But knowing there was a sick child down there, dying, he couldn't just turn his back on him. He would just have to chance it and hope Mrs Brisby could vouch for him if things got out of hand. Making up his mind, he turned back to his friend.
"I'll come with you and see what I can do to help your son. I'm fairly certain I can do something for him," he said, silently berating himself for doing something so stupid. Why was he risking his neck for some giant talking mouse he hardly knew when he should be lying low, waiting for a rescue to get him off this godforsaken planet? Your blasted nobility is going rub off on you one of these days, Joshua, you dumb bastard, he thought. Mrs Brisby, on the other hand, was delighted.
"You will help my Timmy? Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!" she cried, grabbing Josh into a hug, catching him by surprise. Even though she was petite, she could hug pretty tight, accidentally pressing against Josh's bruised ribs, where the snake's tail had slammed into him. The man's groan of pain made her pull back in alarm, "Are you hurt?"
"It's all right. Blasted snake slammed into me when I shot it, that's all. Just some bruising, I think," groaned Josh, nursing his bruised ribs. Although luckily there was nothing broken, he wouldn't have turned down another icepack if he had one. Mrs Brisby however looked most concerned. She took his hand.
"Come with me. When we get home, I'll find something for you." Then she remembered she couldn't limp more than a few paces because of her sprained ankle. The Lee of the Stone was a good mile walk and it was getting dark. In another hour, the forest would be crawling with more predators. Mrs Brisby clutched her injured ankle, feeling so helpless, "I don't think I can get very far on this…"
"That's no problem. Allow me," said the dashing Josh and scooped her up into his arms, very gentleman-like. In spite of his aching ribs, the feeling of having the warm body of this beautiful girl pressed against him gave him strength. Mrs Brisby was momentarily caught by surprise but then smiled at the noble gesture.
"You're a real gentleman, Captain Anderson," she said, battling her eyelashes at him. Whoever this strange human was, or wherever he came from, he had definitely won her liking. Josh smiled.
"Just preserving the good old British code of etiquette, my fair lady," he said, always a gentleman, a trait he took great pride in, "And please, call me Josh; only my iron-fisted Commander ever calls me by my rank." Carrying Mrs Brisby in his arms, and his survival kit, containing the medicine for Timothy Brisby, over his shoulder, he set off once again towards the Lee of the Stone, hoping to receive a warmer welcome this time…
Meanwhile, the Brisby household was buzzing with worry. Teresa, Martin and Cynthia, left under the supervision of Auntie Shrew, sat anxiously, waiting for their mother to return with the medicine. In the children's bedroom next door, Timothy lay burning up in bed, growing quieter and quieter by the minute as the last of his strength slowly left him.
Teresa sat with Cynthia and Auntie Shrew by the fire, while Martin paced impatiently back and forth, muttering possible scenarios of what could be taking their mother so long, and getting on Auntie Shrew's nerves. While little Cynthia kept pestering her great auntie for attention, Teresa sat in silence, worrying about her mother. It was past nightfall and still no sign of her. What could be taking her so long? Mr Ages was not the type to keep visitors around for long.
Every so often, her mind would wonder off to that strange human they had met a few days ago. Could that stranger, hiding somewhere out there, be the reason their mother was late? Had he done something to her? Perhaps they should have listened to Auntie Shrew? Trying to ignore the quarrel that had broken out between Martin and their Auntie – a common occurrence when those two were stuck in the same room for too long – Teresa struggled to banish those fearful thoughts from her mind, reassuring herself that everything was fine.
Outside, in the garden patch, Josh made his way to the front door of the Brisby home, carrying the young widow mouse in his arms. Carrying her up to the front door – a rough design, fashioned out of several stout logs lashed together with twine, and without any doorknob or handle -, he finally put her down, helping her keep her balance on one good leg. They could hear voices inside, arguing. A familiar elderly voice seemed to be scolding the children.
"…Cast not pearls before swine, I always say, and that includes impudent piglets. Good night!" They heard some heavy steps marching up to the door, followed by a scream, and then what sounded like a large, water-filled beech ball tumbling down the stairs. The children's laughter carried all the way up to the door.
"That's my Auntie Shrew," said Mrs Brisby, pushing the door open and leading Josh inside, "She raised me after my parents died when I was little. Now she looks after my children whenever I'm away."
The interior of the Brisby home came as quite a surprise to Josh, who had been expecting a dug-out with some straw bedding at best. Instead, the sophistication he saw shocked him: With stone boulders and wooden beams securely reinforcing the earthen walls, and a couple of small, glassless windows providing ventilation, the Brisby home had the appearance of a fallout shelter: semi-subterranean, it was built in a hollowed-out cave underneath a clamp of rocks, only with a more rustic look about it. With a massive stone fireplace providing heat and light, the kitchen was furnished with a large, well-scrubbed table, some wooden benches and stools and a dresser filled with earthenware pottery and dishes. The dirt floor was covered in giant rabbitskin rugs, making the place look most cosy and welcoming. A massive tree root protruding from the floor by the front door had been carved into a flight of stairs, leading down into the kitchen.
Now Josh knew how the humanoid rodents of Nimh-Beta endured the solar winter of their planet. With their subterranean dwellings, built like elaborate underground human homes, they had developed the perfect shelters for braving the long, freezing Nimh-Beta winters.
Auntie Shrew was lying in a heap at the foot of the stairs, having tripped on her overlarge shawl. The Brisby children were giving their aunt sad, puppy-dog looks, struggling to hold back their laughter – well, except for Martin, who was guffawing loudly at the prank he'd just pulled to get even with her for telling him off. Josh had to hide his snort of amusement at the sight of that mean-tempered old mouse, who had clobbered him over the head with a hoe only a few days ago, being driven insane by the children's innocent pranks. Mrs Brisby however, didn't seem to find it funny.
"Stop it, Martin!" she scolded her son, as she entered the parlour, "Auntie Shrew, what's going on here?" The old mouse scrambled to her feet, red in the face and very cross.
"Well!" she shouted, "About time you showed up, Brisby! I'm on my last nerve with that brat son of yours… Him!" The tension suddenly died down as all eyes suddenly turned to Josh, who had stepped into the parlour behind Mrs Brisby, helping her along. Auntie Shrew was the first to recover; thumping furiously up the stairs, brandishing her walking stick like a sword, she growled at Josh with utmost hatred and distrust.
"You again! Get your hands off my niece this instant! How dare you show your face here, you scoundrel! Get out! Out, I say!" She raised her walking stick to run Josh out the door but was stopped by Mrs Brisby.
"Auntie Shrew, please! He means no harm! He saved my life in the forest today. He might be able to help Timmy…" Auntie Shrew rounded on her niece in a rage.
"What did you bring this riff-raff here for? Are you out of your mind? Strangers like him can't be trusted! Whatever lies he's put into your head, he'll only backstab you at the first given opportunity…!"
"Excuse me, madam," snapped Josh coolly, "But I'm not the one here with the attitude problem of striking people over the head with hoes and then tying them up!" Mrs Brisby looked disapprovingly at Auntie Shrew, not happy to hear of her rude treatment of Josh. Downstairs, the children were also voicing their own opinion, Martin being the best of all. Seeing that she was fighting a losing battle, Auntie Shrew finally turned back to her niece, speaking in a softer, but no less disapproving, tone.
"Very well. I'm not the one in charge of this household, so it isn't my place to dismiss any visitors your let in," she huffed in defeat, "But I do hope you know what you're doing, especially for the children's sake – ill-mannered brats as they may be." She shot Martin a glare, who pulled a face at her in response, but recoiled under his mother's stern glare.
"And as for you, hoodlum," she said, poking Josh roughly in the chest with the tip of her walking stick in warning, "I'll be keeping a close watch on you and if I find you're trying to bring trouble upon my niece's very, very odd family, you will rue the day you were born! Good night!"
Without another word, she turned and strode out the door in a huff, muttering about disrespectful little hooligans and naïve young lady mice. Mrs Brisby turned back to her children with an angry glare. She clearly wasn't pleased with their behaviour towards Auntie Shrew.
"Well children, now you've done it!" she scolded them, "Auntie Shrew means well and this is a very poor way to repay her! Especially you and your little games, Martin!" Although she rarely lost her temper with them like their father sometimes used to, the disappointment in her voice always got the message across. Martin looked hurt, while Teresa, the least guilty, looked reproachfully at her brother with crossed arms, giving him a stern 'it-serves-you-right' look.
"I…I'm sorry, Mother…" the boy stammered, staring shamefully at the floor.
The grim atmosphere quickly faded however as Mrs Brisby introduced Josh to her children (it came as quite a surprise to her when they told her they had in fact already met), and how she had met him. Teresa and Cynthia clasped their mouths in horror as she told them about the snake attack and how Josh had saved her and offered to help Timothy when she discovered that she had lost Mr Ages' medicine. Martin was struck dumb with awe.
"You killed a full-grown snake with a bolt of lightning? Boy, I wish I were there! I would have really given that big, fat, stupid worm what for…!" He paraded around, swinging his stick around in mock-attack. Chuckling, Josh playfully grabbed the young mouse in a bear hug, ruffling his hair, while his sisters looked on, giggling. They were beginning to really like this weirdo human visitor, Captain Anderson. But this was not the time to be playing games however, as Mrs Brisby reminded them that their brother needed help.
Leading Josh through a doorway obscured by a curtain, they entered the children's bedroom. Four roughly carved, children-sized beds with rabbit skin duvets and decorated with painted flowers, some homemade toys sitting on shelves and a small fireplace providing light and heat testified to the meagre means of living the Brisbies had.
Lying sleeping on one of the beds in the far corner was a young boy mouse of around seven, looking terribly frail and weak, every few seconds coughing and shivering in his sleep from chills, testifying to his grave illness. Young Timothy Brisby lay burning up in bed, slowly slipping away.
Mrs Brisby knelt beside her sick son's bed, tenderly stroking his hair, "Timmy, wake up, dear. I've brought some help for you. Wake up, please." Timmy's eyes opened briefly but he had no strength left to greet his mother, other than give her a weak smile of recognition. Josh took the boy's hand and felt his pulse; it was racing like a steam engine. Running his hand across his forehead, it felt hot as a boiling kettle.
Taking out his HHC, he activated the med-scanner; the x-ray revealed severe inflammation in the lungs, among other critical readouts, which came up in red on the flexible screen. Running the automatic diagnosis program, the computer confirmed the seriousness of the situation:
MEDICAL ANALYSIS:
SEVERE INFLAMMATION ASSOCIATED WITH PATHOGEN CONTAMINATION DETECTED IN RESPIRATORY SYSTEM
CORE TEMPERATURE: 110 degrees Fahrenheit
PULSE RATE: 165 bpm
RESPIRATION LEVEL: CRITICAL
IMMEDIATE MEDICAL TREATMENT REQUIRED
Setting his survival kit down on a nearby bed, Josh unpacked the medical kit. In a side pocket, he found the three ampoules of penicillin he carried. Taking out the kit's syringe gun and hypodermic needle, he turned to Mrs Brisby.
"While I'm getting this ready, I need you to get some cool water and some towels we can use to bring down his temperature. He will also have to be given plenty of liquids every few hours to prevent dehydration." Without questioning his peculiar instructions, Mrs Brisby hurried back to the kitchen to get the water and towels as instructed, her eldest daughter assisting her. The rest of the children gathered around their sick brother, looking scared. Josh pitied them; someone looking so ill was definitely not a pretty sight for children.
"Is Timmy going to die?" asked Cynthia, looking on the verge of tears, as she gently tucked her doll beneath her sick brother's arm, as if to keep him company.
"No, sweetheart, he's just very sick," said Mrs Brisby, hurrying over with a ball of cool water, Teresa bringing the towels.
"Your brother has got a touch of pneumonia, sweetie," explained Josh, trying to reassure her, as he prepared the syringe gun, "But don't you worry. I'm going to fix him up good as new!" At that moment, they were all caught by surprise as they heard Timmy speak.
"Dad? Is that you…?" To everyone's surprise, it was directed to non other than Josh, the boy's bloodshot eyes, only a fraction open, staring unfocused in his direction. His siblings seemed to lose it as they started muttering nervously to each other.
"Of course he isn't Dad, Timmy, you dunderhead! Dad is dead…!" said Martin incredulously, but Teresa furiously cuffed him over the head, hissing at him to shut up. Josh, who could recognise fever delirium when he saw it, remained focused on his work. On his instructions, they applied the wet towels to the boy's forehead, soothing his fever somewhat. Timmy continued to stare at him in his state of semi-consciousness.
"Who…who are you…?" His voice sounded raspy and weak. Mrs Brisby reached over and kissed her son's cheek, trying to reassure him, "Someone who's going to make you feel better, Timmy. You just try and go back to sleep, darling." Josh patted the boy's hand reassuringly, doubling his efforts.
Extracting the drug from its ampoule, he removed the safety cap from the syringe gun needle, preparing to administer a shot. Mrs Brisby, who was still feverishly soaking Timmy's forehead with cool water, recoiled as she noticed Josh about to stick her son with that long, gleaming needle.
"W…what are you going to do with that thing?"
"The medicine has to be injected into his bloodstream so it can work. Don't worry, it's perfectly safe." What few remedies Mrs Brisby knew about mostly involved herbs, which were usually administered in hot drinks, completely unfamiliar with the concept of injections and serums. Fortunately, however, she didn't argue and helped roll Timmy over so Josh could give him the shot.
After helping the boy swallow some water mixed with powdered aspirin, there was nothing more left to do but wait and hope that Josh's strange remedy worked. Whispering to her children to keep their voices down so their brother could have all the peace and quiet he could get, he ordered them off to bed. It was the end of a long day for the whole family.
Josh sat waiting in the kitchen while Mrs Brisby tucked her children into bed, singing them their favourite lullaby, Dream by Night, Wish by Day. How he admired the strong bond between the members of this little family, envying their happiness. He could hardly remember his own mother's affection, as she had died when he was around Timmy's age; and his father had left the family when he was still a baby. His aunt and uncle had always been firm disciplinarians, bossy like Auntie Shrew, and while they had never mistreated him, his childhood had hardly been one filled with the tender love of a mother as caring as Mrs Brisby.
Then again, she's a natural mother at heart, he thought with a smile, as Mrs Brisby put out the oil lamp in the children's bedroom and returned to the kitchen.
"They're sleeping finally," she said, "My goodness, they kept asking about you. I think they like you."
"Well, that's good to hear," Josh chuckled. Then he noticed his host was still limping from her injured leg, "How's the ankle?"
"Feels much better already, thank you," said Mrs Brisby, walking over to the cupboard and taking out a jug of some sweet-smelling beverage resembling wine. Pouring two wooden mugs, she led Josh before the fireplace and they made themselves comfortable on the soft rabbit-skin hearthrugs. She passed him a mug.
"Thank you," said Josh politely, taking a sip. It was unlike any homemade wine he had ever tasted, but pleasant nonetheless, "I'm sorry to drop in on you at such a bad time…"
"Anyone who helps my sick child is welcome in my home. My mother always told me it was only right that we repay any favours in kind," said Mrs Brisby firmly, "Please don't let Auntie Shrew's behaviour give you any bad impression. She can be a little eccentric at times but she doesn't really mean any ill will to anybody."
"Don't mention it, no harm done," said Josh, looking at a portrait hanging above the mantelpiece. He could recognise the entire Brisby family posing for the painter, including a handsome-looking male mouse, with greyish fur, similar to Martin's, holding Mrs Brisby's hand and bouncing a toddler Timmy on his lap, "Is that your husband?" Mrs Brisby's smile fell.
"Yes, that's Jonathan," she said, "He died a few years ago, during one of his expeditions for the King of the Rats, Nicodemus…" At the mention of the family having contact with the Rats, Josh grew uneasy. He turned to Mrs Brisby.
"Do pardon my asking, Mrs Brisby, but, about these Rats, do you still retain close contact with them? I mean, do they come up here often…?" The mouse looked rather confused at his awkward question.
"Well, no, not since my husband's death," she said, "My neighbour, Mr Ages still does because of his work though. Also, there's Justin, Jonathan's closest friend and my children's godfather, who still visits us occasionally. He was a great support to me after Jonathan disappeared…" She stifled a sob as the memory of her late husband resurfaced. Josh sighed, realised he had gone a bit too far with his questioning.
"I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to upset you," he said, "It's just that I don't want to bring any trouble down on you and your family, should they show up here, looking for me…"
"You needn't worry about that, Josh," she said kindly, "They have no business here and they've always respected Jonathan's privacy. But why were you running from them anyway?" she asked, suddenly getting suspicious. Josh, feeling he owed her an explanation, launched into his story of how he had come to this planet and of all his escapades that had eventually brought him to the Lee of the Stone.
"They didn't give me a single word of warning," he explained, telling her of his encounter with the two savage Rats back at the crash site, "The instant they saw me, they just moved in for the kill, completely unprovoked. That's why I was on the run, hiding out here…"
Mrs Brisby listened intently, still struggling to grasp the idea that her guest actually came from another world from somewhere way across the heavens. The concept of building machines that could fly was regarded by many as pure fantasy, let alone space travel, which went beyond her wildest imagination. However, she now realised her new friend was in quite a difficult situation, stranded and all alone. And after everything he had done for her today, she was determined to do something about it. She took Josh's hand.
"Josh, why don't you stay with us? I'll be happy to put you up, until your friends come for you. I'm sure my children would be delighted to have you around. What do you say?" Josh, who had been about to say he'd be on his way in the morning before he became a burden to them, was caught by surprise at the invitation. At this point, he could either accept or turn it down. But which was the wisest course of action?
Although still weary of the Rats tracing him here before the NIMH-One could send a rescue, which could land the entire Brisby family in trouble for harbouring him, declining would only leave him back out there in the wilderness, with the threat of the approaching winter not far off. At least, here he had shelter, food and he was fairly confident Mrs Brisby wouldn't turn him in. Now, he had a fighting chance.
The dice has been cast, he thought, resigning himself for the inevitable, before finally nodding in agreement. Boy, did Mrs Brisby smile with joy!
Later that night, Mrs Brisby got out of bed and tiptoed over to the spare bed on the other side of the master bedroom, where Josh slept. The astronaut had removed his spacesuit and overalls, leaving only his underpants and t-shirt on. She smiled, watching him peacefully sleeping. He was snoring slightly but pleasantly, unlike Auntie Shrew's loud snoring, which would make the furniture rock around the room all night. Staring beneath his pulled-up t-shirt, she noticed the bruising the snake had given him.
Noiselessly, she took out one of her mother's special ointments from the bedside table and mixed the ground-up herbs in a paste. Gently and tenderly, she applied the ointment onto Josh's bruises. The man winced slightly in his sleep at her touch but luckily didn't wake. After bandaging up his ribs, Mrs Brisby pulled the blanket back over him, making him as comfortable as possible, before returning to her own bed.
For hours, she lay awake, silently admiring the sleeping Josh across the room. He was so noble and so warm-hearted, it made her feel almost as if she might be falling in love again... almost. In a way, it saddened her that he wasn't a mouse like her – Timmy mistaking him for her late husband in the midst of his fever delirium had almost caused her heart to melt…
Author's note: So now Josh is staying with the Brisby family. Coming up next, his attempts to regain contact with the NIMH-One begin, and Jenner slowly begins to pick up his trail… Enjoy and please review!