Terry Pratchett - The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents

Perhaps you have to be close, Maurice thought. Perhaps, if you've been close, it knows where your head lives.

He'd never seen a rat so miserable as Dangerous Beans. The little rat was huddled by the candle, staring unseeing at “Mr. Bunnsy Has an Adventure” .

“I hoped it would be better than this,” said Dangerous Beans. “But it turns out we're just… rats. As soon as there's trouble, we're just… rats.”

It was very unusual for Maurice to feel sympathetic to anyone who wasn't Maurice. In a cat, that is a major character flaw. I must be ill, he thought. “If it's any help, I'm just a cat,” he said.

“Oh, but you are not. You are kind and, deep down, I sense that you have a generous nature,” said Dangerous Beans.

Maurice tried not to look at Peaches. Oh boy, he thought.

“At least you ask people before you eat them,” said Peaches.

You'd better tell them, said Maurice's thoughts. Go on, tell them. You'd feel better.

Maurice tried to tell his thoughts to shut up. What a time to get a conscience! What good was a cat with a conscience? A cat with a conscience was a… a hamster, or something…

“Um, I've been meaning to talk to you about that,” he muttered.

Go on, tell them, said his shiny new conscience. Get it out in the open.

“Yes?” said Peaches.

Maurice squirmed. “Well, you know I do always check my food these days…”

“Yes, and it does you great credit,” said Dangerous Beans.

Now Maurice felt even worse. “Well, you know how we've always wondered how come I got Changed even though I never ate any of that magical stuff on the dump…”

“Yes,” said Peaches. “That has always puzzled me.”

Maurice shifted uneasily. “Well, you know… er… did you ever know a rat, quite big, one ear missing, bit of white fur on one side, couldn't run too fast 'cos of a bad leg?”

“That sounds like Additives,” said Peaches.

“Oh, yes,” said Dangerous Beans. “He disappeared before we met you, Maurice. A good rat. Had a bit of a speech… difficulty.”

“Speech difficulty,” said Maurice, gloomily.

“He stammered,” said Peaches, giving Maurice a long, cool stare. “Couldn't get his words out very easily.”

“Not very easily,” said Maurice, his voice now quite hollow.

“But I'm sure you never met him, Maurice,” said Dangerous Beans. “I miss him. He was a wonderful rat once you got him talking.”

“Ahem. Did you meet him, Maurice?” said Peaches, her stare nailing him to the wall.

Maurice's face moved. It tried various expressions one after another. Then he said, “ All right! I ate him, OK? All of him! Except for the tail and the green wobbly bit and that nasty purple lump, no-one knows what it is! I was just a cat! I hadn't learned to think yet! I didn't know! I was hungry! Cats eat rats, that's how it goes! It wasn't my fault! And he'd been eating the magic stuff and I ate him so then Igot Changed too! Know how that feels, seeing the green wobbly bit like that? It doesn't feel good! Sometimes on dark nights I think I can hear him talking down there! All right? Satisfied? I didn't know he was anyone! I didn't know Iwas anyone! I ate him! He'd been eating the stuff on the dump and I ate him so that's how I got Changed! I admit it! I ate him! It wasn't my faauulltt !”

And then there was silence. After a while Peaches said, “Yes, but that was a long time ago, wasn't it?”

“What? You mean have I eaten anyone lately? No!”

“Are you sorry for what you did?” said Dangerous Beans.

“Sorry? What do you think? Sometimes I have nightmares where I burp and he—”

“Then that's probably all right,” said the little rat.

“All right?” said Maurice. “How can it be all right? And you know the worst part? I'm a cat! Cats don't go round feeling sorry! Or guilty! We never regret anything! Do you know what it feels like, saying ‘Hello food, can you talk?’ That's not how a cat is supposed to behave!”

“We don't act how rats are supposed to behave,” said Dangerous Beans. And then his face fell again. “Up until now,” he sighed.

“Everyone was frightened,” said Peaches. “Fear spreads.”

“I hoped we could be more than rats,” said Dangerous Beans. “I thought we could be more than things that squeak and widdle, whatever Hamnpork says. And now… where is everyone?”

“Shall I read to you from Mr. Bunnsy ?” said Peaches, her voice full of concern. “You know that always cheers you up when you're in one of your… dark times.”

There was a nod from Dangerous Beans.

Peaches pulled the huge book towards her and began to read. “One day Mr. Bunnsy and his friend Ratty Rupert the Rat went to see Old Man Donkey, who lived by the river—”

“Read the bit where they talk to the humans,” said Dangerous Beans.

Peaches obediently turned a page. “‘Hello, Ratty Rupert,’ said Farmer Fred. ‘What a lovely day it is, to be sure—’”

This is mad, thought Maurice, as he listened to a story about wild woods and fresh bubbling streams, being read to one rat by another rat while they sat beside a drain along which ran something that certainly wasn't fresh. Anything but fresh. To be fair, though, it was bubbling a bit, or at least glooping.

Everything's going down the drain and they have this little picture in their heads about how nice things could be…

Look at those little pink sad eyes, said Maurice's own thoughts in Maurice's own head. Look at those little wobbly wrinkly noses. If you ran out on them and left them here, how could you look those little wobbly noses in the face again?

“I wouldn't have to,” said Maurice, out loud. “That's the point!”

“What?” said Peaches, looking up from the book.

“Oh, nothing…” Maurice paused. There was nothing for it. It went against everything a cat stood for. This is what thinking does for you, he thought. It gets you into trouble. Even when you know other people can think for themselves, you start thinking for them too. He groaned.

“We'd better see what's happened to the kid,” he said.

It was completely black in the cellar. All there was, apart from the occasional drip of water, were voices.

“So,” said the voice of Malicia, “let's go over it again, shall we? You don't have a knife of any kind?”

“That's right,” said Keith.

“Or some handy matches that could burn through the rope?”

“No.”

“And no sharp edge near you that you could rub the rope on?”

“No.”

“And you can't sort of pull your legs through your arms so that you can get your hands in front of you?”

“No.”

“And you don't have any secret powers?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? The moment I saw you, I thought: he's got some amazing power that will probably manifest itself when he's in dire trouble. I thought: no-one could really be as useless as that unless it was a disguise.”

“No. I'm sure. Look, I'm just a normal person. Yes, all right, I was abandoned as a baby. I don't know why. It was something that happened. They say it happens quite a lot. It doesn't make you special. And I don't have any secret markings as if I was some kind of sheep, and I don't think I'm a hero in disguise and I don't have some kind of amazing talent that I'm aware of. OK, I'm good at playing quite a few musical instruments. I practise a lot. But I'm the kind of person heroes aren't. I get by and I get along. I do my best. Understand?”

“Oh.”

“You should have found someone else.”

“In fact, you can't be any help at all?”

“No.”

There was silence for a while and then Malicia said, “You know, in many ways I don't think this adventure has been properly organized.”