 
## Red Raiders

K.H.Gordon

Copyright 2013

Smashwords Edition

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This ebook is licensed for personal use only, and may not be re-sold or transferred. To purchase additional copies, please visit Smashwords.com

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For Keegan,

who heard it first

and made me finish it.

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### Part I

Chapter One

It was a wet, gray afternoon. A young rat crouched between two bags of garbage in a grimy alleyway and watched a man eating a sandwich. The man bit the sandwich and chewed it deliberately, giving it his complete attention. He did not see the rat watching him. A splotchy brown dog lay at the man's feet and also watched the sandwich and also didn't see the rat. The rat stayed still and watched the man and the sandwich and the dog, and waited.

The man started to take another bite, then stopped and made a face at the sandwich. He pulled a pickle slice out of the middle and threw it on the ground.

The rat pricked up his ears, and his tail twitched, but he kept still and stayed where he was hidden, his dark gray coat blending into the shadows. He would wait until the man left and then he would dash out and grab the pickle. His name was Torus. He lived in the building on one side of the alley and the pickle would be the first thing he had eaten since breakfast. He waited while the sandwich slowly disappeared and the dog fell asleep. He watched so intently he didn't hear the soft footsteps behind him until it was too late.

"Hey, Torus!"

He jumped and whirled around.

"Chello, don't do that!"

It was another young rat, a little smaller than himself, with a rusty brown coat, a quick tail and glittering eyes.

"You're too jumpy. What're doing here? Who're you hiding from?

"Nothing, I'm watching Sandwich Man. I think he's got pastrami today."

"Ooh! I want some! Is that a pickle? I want a pickle! I'll race you for it!"

"We have to wait. That dog is there again."

"Pfff! What dog? That's no dog, it's a piece of carpet wrapped around a pile of old laundry! Let's go!"

Torus laughed silently. "You're crazy. Just wait, they'll leave soon."

Chello crouched down next to Torus and looked out into the alley with him. The narrow gap between two old apartment buildings was full of big plastic bags of human trash and piles of broken human junk. The rats lived in the building and ran in spaces between the walls. They had homes in the basement and under the floors and they lived by eating what they could find whenever they found it.

After a little while Chello started shifting around restlessly. The man paused eating the sandwich and held it in his lap, staring out the mouth of the alley to the street.

"Cheese! Why doesn't he just drop the rest and get out of here so we can eat?" said Chello.

"Be quiet! Be patient! If that dog hears you we won't get anything at all."

"Uh-oh, look!" Chello pointed out toward the opening of the alley. A pigeon had fluttered down a few feet in front of the man and was eyeing the pickle.

"Oh, no!" said Torus.

"Stupid bird..." muttered Chello. His eyes were dark and hard in the shadows.

The pigeon hopped forward and cocked its head sideways to look at the pickle. The dog lifted up its ears, but didn't raise its head from its paws. The pigeon picked up the pickle with a swift peck and hopped back away from the man. The dog closed its eyes and yawned as the bird flew up to a window ledge on the corner of the opposite building, its wings clattering in the damp air.

"Hey!" said Chello. "Stupid bird! That pickle was ours! Why don't they just stay away from here?"

"Calm down," said Torus. "Just be quiet and wait! Please!"

The pigeon put the pickle down on the ledge and looked at it, cocking its head, first to one side, then the other. Then it picked the pickle up and shook its head sharply, throwing the pickle out onto the sidewalk. It watched it fall, then flapped off the ledge and flew quickly out of sight.

"Oh, great! Just great!" Chello was furious. "It can't even throw it back where we can get it? Why did it even take it? Isn't it smart enough to know if it doesn't like something and just leave it alone? Stupid pig-bird!"

"What? A what-bird?"

"That's what my dad calls them," Chello grumbled.

"Oh," said Torus. "I heard that humans call them 'flying rats.'"

"What?" said Chello, indignantly. "That's stupid! Humans can't even talk. Besides, it's insulting! Rats are sleek and fast and smart, everything pigeons aren't."

He turned around disgusted and was about to leave when Torus saw something.

"Hey, look!" he said.

Chello turned around. The man had moved, taken another careful bite, and something had fallen to the ground.

Chello started to hop from side to side.

"It's a pickle! It's a pickle!"

"Okay, well, when they leave we can go get it."

"No, I want to get it now!"

"But this one's right under the man's feet! Even a pigeon wouldn't be stupid enough to try to get it there."

"I don't care! I don't want to lose another one."

"But what about the dog?"

"What dog? I don't see any dog"

Torus rolled his eyes. "You can't just run out into the alley like that. What about cats? What about the hawk?"

"The hawk never comes down into the alley," said Chello with exaggerated patience, "and there won't be any cats as long as that dog is there, right?"

"So what about the dog, then?"

"Pff! He's asleep! Maybe he's dead! He's just a bag of rags and I'm the quickest rat in the building. He'll never even see me!"

Chello slipped out of the shadow of the garbage bags and shot silently behind an empty bucket that lay on its side behind the man.

"Chello!" Torus whispered as loud as he could. "Don't be an idiot!"

Chello looked back and smiled. He waved his arms like wings and mouthed "I'm a flying rat," then crept out toward the man and the dog. The man was sitting on an old wooden crate and Chello slipped in through a gap in the slats so he was hiding right under the man.

Torus's heart was pounding. He could see Chello's black nose poke out of the crate between the man's feet. The pickle was right in front of him, but so was the sleeping dog. The gap between the slats of the crate was too small for him to squeeze through, and though he strained and stretched as far as he could he couldn't reach the pickle. Torus wanted to call out to him but he was afraid of waking the dog so he watched silently.

Chello pulled his head back into the crate and tried reaching out with his paw. He could get a little closer that way, but he was still unable to reach the pickle. He pulled his arm back into the crate. For several moments there was no sign of him. Torus thought he had given up and decided to wait for them to leave. Good, he thought. He needs to learn to be more patient.

But then Chello's arm appeared again through the gap, this time holding something, a stick or a piece of wire. He reached out and stabbed at the pickle with it, trying to hook it and pull it into the crate. He tried three or four times and then finally snagged it and started pulling it toward him.

As he worked, the stick scraped on the ground and made a small scratching sound. The man didn't react, but Torus saw the dog's eyes fly open.

"Chello!" he called, but the dog had already whipped its head around to see a rat's arm, holding a slice of pickle, disappear into the crate.

"Rat!" it shouted. "Rat! Rat! Rat!" It lunged at the gap in the crate. The man jumped up but the dog slammed into his legs and he lurched backwards, falling on top of the crate and smashing it. Chello ran out from under the pile of splintered boards with a pickle in his teeth and sped toward the back of the alley. The dog saw him and leaped over the man lying on the ground and chased after him. It kept shouting "Rat! Rat!" and the man howled at the dog with strange, wordless, human sounds.

Chello ran in a long arc around the back of the alley, leading the dog over piles of trash. Torus hadn't moved, still hidden by the garbage can, watching with amazement. When Chello and the dog turned around, though, and came racing toward him, he jumped up and dashed back to the wall, to the gap in the bricks that led to the secret passageways of the rats' home. Once inside, he turned around just in time for Chello to race in and crash into him. They tumbled over in a heap in the dark crevice while the dog growled and shouted at the entrance.

"Rat! Rrrrrrrrrrrrat!"

Chello was laughing wildly.

"That was great!"

"You're insane!"

"Do you want a pickle?" Chello asked. "I'll split it with you."

"No, I don't want a pickle, I want you to not be insane!"

The man pulled the dog away, making angry wordless sounds while the dog said "Rat! MY rat! Why?"

Then there was silence and Chello slowly stopped laughing.

"Dogs are soooo stupid," he said.

"Who's stupider, the dog or the rat that offers himself for lunch?"

Chello stretched grandiosely.

"I'm the fastest rat and the best fighter in the Clan," he said pompously. "Maybe next time I'll give him a head start. Now do you want some of my pickle or not?"

Torus looked at his friend and shook his head.

"Sure," he said. "You split it."

"Nah, you have it. I'm not hungry. I ate before I came down."

Torus stared at him in disbelief.

"Not hungry? Then why did you—?"

Chello smiled. "Because," he said expansively, "it was there."

Torus rolled his eyes and bit the pickle slice in half, handing a piece to Chello. Then he took a bite of his half and closed his eyes. It was salty and sour and crunchy, with a little bit of mustard on it. The pungent flavor made his teeth ache a little and his stomach lurched in anticipation. They munched in silence for a while and then Chello chuckled to himself.

"Dogs are so stupid."

"You shouldn't have used that stick, you know," said Torus.

Chello glanced up at him.

"This is a really good pickle."

"I'm serious! What if that human had seen you?"

"It _didn't_ see me and you've got a really good pickle. Relax."

"You need to be more careful. Thank you for the pickle. You just make me nervous, that's all. They shouldn't see things like that."

"Okay. You worry too much." Chello suddenly brightened. "Hey! Do you think that human dropped its sandwich when that stupid dog knocked it over?"

Without waiting for an answer he ran through the crevice in the wall and out into the alley. Torus followed him out as far as the garbage cans and watched as he nosed around the broken crate. A light rain had started. There was no sign of the man or the dog or the metal cart full of bundles the man pushed around. Chello came back looking damp and dejected.

"Nope. Nothing left. It probably gave it to that stupid dog. Stupid dog." He picked up a pebble and threw it at the pile of broken boards.

"Hey!"

Torus and Chello both jumped at the sudden sound of a voice and turned back toward the hole in the wall. Another young rat, a female, was looking out at them holding the last bit of Chello's pickle. Her coat was darker than Torus', almost black. She was practically invisible in the shadows.

"Don't do that!" said Chello.

"Hi, Nevi," said Torus.

"Greetings, Mighty Pickle Hunters," she said.

"You'd better enjoy that pickle," said Chello. "I worked hard for it. I fought a dog for it!"

"Oh really? You're so wet I thought you went diving for it." She turned and went back into the wall and they followed her.

"There was a dog," said Chello, shaking out his fur. "A big one. Stupid dog."

"I know. I was watching from the second-floor lookout. You fought that dog good!" She laughed and winked at Torus.

"You bet!" said Chello. He lay on his back and closed his eyes.

"I came to get you guys for the gathering."

"Nope. Naptime," said Chello without opening his eyes.

"No, you have to come to this one. Everyone has to come. It's a ruling."

"A ruling? How come?" said Torus.

"What do you mean, 'a ruling'?" said Chello. "Do you mean it's a ruling that we have to go or that the Chief is going to make a ruling at the meeting?" He yawned.

"I don't know, maybe both," she said impatiently. "Now come on, I don't want to come in late again."

"Everyone has to come?" said Torus. "That's strange. Usually they just want the Family Heads and maybe the Patrol Commanders. Why would they need everyone?"

"It's something to do with the food," said Nevi. "I heard someone talking to PC Dumash about it."

"Patrol Commander Dumash makes me nervous," said Chello. "PC 'Dumpish.' Of course he's talking about food. He's twice as fat as a normal rat! He keeps talking to me about joining his Patrol when I come of age." He was still lying on his back with his eyes closed.

"It's because he knows you're such a mighty pickle hunter," she said. She poked him in the ribs and scampered away down the winding tunnels that were the rats' paths through the building. Chello jumped up and chased after her and Torus watched his friends disappear into the tunnels.

He sat for a moment and then got up to follow them. He strolled along toward the meeting place thinking about what the Ruling might be. There weren't many Rulings anymore. The Chief had been Chief for so long – since before Torus' parents were born – that everything had been Ruled already and he didn't have any more ideas. Mostly he relied on the recommendations of his advisors. The recommendations had become just like Rulings and it seemed like nobody paid much attention to either of them. Torus walked through the empty tunnels and past the empty nests of rat families. Everybody must be there already, he thought.

He'd be last again. Oh, well... Then, in the tunnel up ahead, he saw the figure of an old rat shuffling along and pausing to rest. He hurried to catch up with him.

"Hello, Mr. Nile."

"What? Oh, hello, Torus. You'd better hurry, you'll miss the Entrance."

"I can miss the Entrance. I've seen it before. I'll walk with you. Do you need help?"

"No, thanks, I can get along fine. I'm just slow these days."

They walked in silence through the tunnels. Then, as they approached the meeting room, Mr. Nile spoke again.

"Big changes are coming. My bones feel it. Everyone should be ready."

"Ready for what?"

"Ready for anything, Torus," said the old rat, comically ominous. "Here, let's see what the Chief has for us today."

They turned a corner in the tunnel and came into the meeting room, a room behind the furnace room that used to hold piles of coal and now was empty except for cans of old paint and other junk. The room was in the basement of the building and had one window high up on the back wall. The glass had been painted over, but one pane was broken out in one corner and that allowed enough light for the sharp eyes of the rats. No humans had been in the room for as long as anyone could remember.

Now the room was filled with rats, sitting on piles of rubbish in the corners, laying on the floor, or perched on the empty shelves that lined two of the walls. Torus looked for his friends but couldn't see them among the crowd of dark, furry bodies. He didn't see his father or his younger brother and sisters, either, so he stayed with Mr. Nile as the old rat found a spot on the floor close to the podium. The podium was a metal box about a foot high in the center of the room, and on this box stood the old Chief and his two advisors.

"We missed the Entrance after all," said Mr. Nile with a wry smile. "We'll have to apologize to the Chief afterward."

The Chief looked around at the crowd of rats gathered in the room, smiling pleasantly. His advisors stood behind him, conversing in hushed tones. Then one of them stepped up beside the Chief and whispered in his ear, and the Chief nodded vaguely, still smiling, but said nothing. The advisor waited a moment and then whispered again, more urgently, and gestured out at the crowd. The Chief opened his eyes wide, as if he had suddenly remembered something, then stepped out to the edge of the platform and raised his arms as a hush fell over the crowd.

"My friends!" he called. His voice rang through the room. "My friends, we have called you together today to discuss a matter of gravest importance to us all. There are great changes and tremendous opportunity ahead of us. But it will not be easy. We will need every rat's help and support in the days and weeks and months to follow."

Mr. Nile muttered under his breath, so only Torus could hear.

"That's what I was afraid of..."

* * *

Chapter Two

Torus only half listened to the Chief. It didn't sound like anything new. Times were hard, food was scarce, everyone must pull together and support the leaders. Torus yawned. He glanced at Mr. Nile who seemed to be concentrating very hard on the Chief's words. The Chief said something about the dumpster in the park across the street and Mr. Nile said "Hm!" Then there was more about supporting the leaders. It sounded exactly the same as every other gathering.

Torus looked around again for Chello and Nevi and finally found them sitting on a paint can on the other side of the room. He tried to get their attention, but Mr. Nile nudged him to keep quiet and pay attention.

"Listen," he said. "Something dangerous is happening."

"...as long as we all may live," said the Chief. "Why continue to waste our energy and squander our time? Why live with the uncertainty of conflict and...the uncertainty of..." he paused and one of his advisors leaned toward him and whispered something in his ear. "Conflict and confrontation." The Chief's voice was strong again.

"What's he talking about?" Torus whispered. "Conflict with who?"

"Shh!" Mr. Nile motioned back to the Chief. "Listen."

"Constant strife has weakened us," the Chief continued. "The daily struggle has made its mark on every family in the Clan. But soon that will change. Very soon, today in fact, my advisors and I will meet with—"

The other advisor stepped up to the Chief's other ear and whispered urgently. The Chief listened and nodded slowly, then started talking again, with the advisors still leaning close to his ears.

"That is, today we will begin planning for a new...arrangement with our...neighbors...that will ensure peace and...tranquility and...tranquility for all. Most importantly, none of us will ever go hungry again!"

The advisors stepped back and let the Chief accept the cheers and applause of the crowd. They continued whispering to each other while the Chief waved and smiled to all the rats gathered in the room. Torus couldn't tell if they were applauding his speech or if they were just glad it was over.

"Bah!" Mr. Nile was neither cheering nor stamping his feet on the floor. "Empty, dangerous words from a clumsy puppet." He turned to go. "Wait here," he said to Torus. "I have to check on something."

Torus started looking around for his family, but just then Chello and Nevi ran up to him.

"Was it everything you expected?" he asked Nevi.

"What did he say?" Chello interrupted. "I wasn't listening."

Nevi rolled her eyes and answered Torus.

"Well, most of it wasn't very clear. It was like a pep talk to get us ready for something, but he never really said what we're supposed to be ready for."

"What about the dumpster in the park?" asked Chello. "What was that about? Is there a problem with it?"

"He didn't say. He just mentioned it," she said. "He called it our birthright, or something like that."

"Clan-right. He called it our Clan-right." Mr. Nile had come up while they were talking. At his words they turned to look at him, and followed him toward his home.

"What's a Clan-right?" asked Torus.

"It means something that a clan of rats is entitled to, something that no other clan has a right to. The Chief called the dumpster in the park our Clan-right which means--"

"It means it's ours, right?" Chello interrupted. "It belongs to us."

"It means," continued Mr. Nile, "that theoretically we have the right do decide what happens with it."

"What do you mean 'theoretically'?" asked Nevi. "Isn't it ours?"

"The dumpster is just the dumpster by itself, really. It doesn't 'belong' to anybody any more than we 'belong' to anybody. A Clan-right means that a clan of rats has the right to control something, or live someplace, without interference from other clans. For example, we've lived in this building for more than 20 generations. Based on that history, we can claim this building as our Clan-right, which we do, and can then decide who can live here and who can't."

"What do you mean?" asked Torus.

"Well, if a rat from another clan, or a family of rats, wants to live in this building, we have the right to allow that or deny it. Our neighboring clans recognize our Clan-right to this building and we recognize theirs, and that helps keep the peace."

"So what about the dumpster?" said Chello.

"The dumpster has never been claimed by a clan before. All the clans nearby use it, so do the Park-rats. Even the pigeons use it – during the day of course. I don't know why the Chief would decide to claim Clan-right on it. It seems to be courting trouble if you ask me."

They came to Mr. Nile's hole in the rearmost wall of the building.

"Now, please go and play somewhere. I need a nap before the forage starts." He went into his hole and the three friends turned back toward the meeting place and walked for a while in silence.

"'Please go and play someplace'," Chello sneered. "Cheese, we're not pups anymore!"

"Don't swear," said Nevi. "Besides, what else is there to do until we come of age? You can't forage or patrol until you're older. And smarter!" She poked him in the ribs and scampered away, laughing.

Chello took off after her, and Torus struggled to keep up as they ran through the tunnels in the walls, up and down, and around corners until they collapsed at last in a heap of rags piled under the sink in the kitchen of a vacant apartment on the third floor of the building.

They lay in silence for a while, and Torus poked around in the rags looking for something to eat. Then Nevi spoke suddenly.

"What do you think the Chief is doing?"

"Right now? He's probably sleeping," said Chello.

"No, I mean with the dumpster in the park. Why claim Clan-right on it now?"

"I dunno. Who cares? Why shouldn't we have a right to it? It's closest to our building, isn't it?"

"I guess so. That's the way it looks from the lookout posts. I just don't know why he would do that. I know food is short, but it seems like – I don't know – it seems reckless. I mean, the other clans might be upset, right?"

"What do we care about other clans?" said Chello. "We've got to take care of our own families, don't we?"

Torus gave up on looking for food and poked his nose between the cabinet doors to peek out at the room.

"Hey," he said, "where are we?"

"Nowhere important," said Nevi, lowering her eyes. "Just a place. My place. One of my places."

"'Your place?'" said Chello. Since when do you have 'places?'

"None of your business," she shot back. "Nobody comes up here. There's no more food, and the humans have been gone for more than ten moons. So I come up here sometimes. That's all. It's just my place. If you don't like it you can leave. If you can find your way." She turned her back on them and was silent.

"No, it's great," said Torus.

"Yeah, I love how you've decorated it," added Chello.

She smacked him with her tail, but giggled a little.

Torus stepped out onto the kitchen floor.

"It's really quiet here, and the space is huge! It's almost like being outside. Hey, look! Pigeons!"

Two splotchy gray pigeons were huddled on the ledge outside a window. The rain had stopped and the clouds were breaking up into a mottled purple and orange sunset. Torus stared at them. They kept twitching their heads around nervously, but they didn't seem to see him. He hadn't seen pigeons that close before. They were so strange-looking he couldn't even form an opinion about them.

"Phah! Stupid birds!" said Chello.

"They're so strange-looking...do all those different color feathers mean something? They look like they were put together by accident."

"No, they're just naturally a mess."

Torus crept forward, gazing at the birds. They were mostly gray and black with odd patches of white. They fluttered their mottled wings and flicked their heads from side to side. The iridescent feathers on the sides of their heads almost sparkled when they caught the fading sunlight.

"Flying rats..." he muttered under his breath.

"Don't!" said Chello, irritably. "It's an insult! My dad says – "

"Hey, guys, come back in here!" The urgency in Nevi's voice made them turn and rush back, slipping into the cabinet as quickly as they could.

"What's going on?" asked Torus.

"Look outside," she whispered, and the three of them peeked out from between the cabinet doors, stacked on top of each other in the darkness.

"Look there, at the window."

From where they were, they could just see the window with the two pigeons outside. They were now standing perfectly still, side by side, looking steadily at the other end of the ledge. There, silhouetted against the evening sky, evidently speaking to the birds very intently, was a rat.

* * *

Chapter Three

"Who is that? What's going on?" Chello sounded panicked and angry. "We don't talk to pigeons! We never talk to the enemy."

"Shhhhh," said Torus, "Be quite, you idiot! It's one of the Advisors. Do you want him to know we're here?"

"An Advisor? Which one? Is it Dinnick?"

"No," said Nevi, squinting through the dingy glass of the window. "It's Nogolo, the one that's always whispering in the Chief's ear."

"What then, did he come out to chase them away? Keep them off our building?"

"No," said Nevi. "They were waiting for him. It was a planned meeting. They're discussing something."

"What is there to discuss with pig-birds? How about 'Keep away from our dumpster!'? Rotten birds..." Chello growled under his breath and scowled at them.

"What do you care?" asked Torus. "They're just birds"

Chello didn't answer, but kept staring malevolently out the window.

"Look, they're leaving," said Nevi. "And Nogolo is leaving, too. There's a tunnel entrance or something at the far side of the window frame."

"I hope he told them to leave our pickles alone!" Chello's dark mood seemed to pass as quickly as it had come. "Come on, let's go. It's almost dark." He headed back the way they had come, under a loose board at the back of the cabinet and into the maze of tunnels that riddled the walls of the old building.

They wandered up and down and left and right. It seemed longer going back than it had coming up. Torus lost track of the turns, but Chello seemed to know his way even though it was the first time he had been there. Suddenly Nevi piped up from the rear.

"I wonder why that spot isn't one of the Lookouts. It's got a great view of the whole south side from that tunnel entrance. It's got the perfect cover, too."

"Maybe it _is_ one of the Lookouts." Torus said. "Maybe you just didn't know about it."

"I know about _all_ the Lookouts," she said. "I want – well, I just learned where they all are."

"Maybe you 'just learned' where they are because that's where the Scouts work," said Chello, "and maybe there's a Scout you want to know where he is, and maybe his name is – "

"Shut UP!" shouted Nevi, and she jumped all the way over Torus and landed on top of Chello, knocking him off his feet. They scrabbled for a moment and when they stopped, Nevi was on top with her paws on Chello's chest and his tail firmly in her teeth. He was laughing so hard he couldn't talk.

"Okay, okay..." he said finally, gasping for breath. "I'm sorry, I just made that up. I didn't expect it to be true!"

"Mff mf mffff," said Nevi. Then she spit his tail out and said "You are a solid cheese moron and you have _no idea_ what you're talking about."

"Obviously," said Chello, grinning.

"Hey, where are we?" asked Torus. "I need to get home and help with the little ones so my dad can go on the forage."

"I dunno," said Chello. "Ask Scout-Girl."

Nevi pushed him away with disgust and said "You know exactly where we are! Once we're past the next corner we're right next to your den!"

And so they were. Torus hadn't recognized the area they were in, but once they got a little further along the tunnel he saw the small hole Chello shared with his parents and brothers.

"Hey! There's your house!" said Torus. As they walked up to the entrance they could hear the clamor of voices inside.

"Yeah," mumbled Chello, "home sweet home." He paused for a moment. "Well, see you guys tomorrow. Let's go poke around the north dumpster, okay?"

"Yeah, sure. See you," said Torus.

Chello turned and headed into his family's den.

"Hey, I'm home!" he shouted as he disappeared. Among the jumble of voices coming out of the hole it was impossible to tell if anyone responded to him or even noticed him at all.

They were back in a part of the building Torus knew well, and they walked along for a while without saying anything. Nevi suddenly muttered to herself. "I'm not a 'guy' you jerk..."

"He's alright, you know. He just likes to get under your fur," said Torus.

"I know. He just bugs me. He's so self-centered."

"I think he gets lost between all those brothers. But at least you know he likes you. If he didn't like you he'd just ignore you while he plotted your ultimate downfall."

Nevi laughed.

"I know. And I guess it makes sense he acts that way, since his older brother's exactly the same only ten times more."

They walked in silence beneath the floor of a human child's bedroom, then Nevi spoke again.

"What's it like being in a big family like that?"

"I don't know. It's okay, I guess. It's busy. And noisy. But we don't have as many kids as Chello's family. And my folks didn't fight like his do, you know, before..."

"Yeah, I know," said Nevi. "I just wonder. It's just me and Mom since Dad scrammed and we mostly just sit around trying to think of something to say. Mom complains about little dumb things and I complain about other dumb things, then she goes out to forage and I go to bed."

"Do you ever hear from your dad?"

Nevi paused.

"No. No we don't. Why?"

"Just wondering."

They stopped in front of Nevi's family's den.

"Thanks for showing us your...your place," said Torus.

"No problem," she said. "I can show you the way again tomorrow, if you want. It's nice to have a place to get away from everything sometimes."

"Yeah, okay." Torus felt awkward. "Well, see you later."

"Okay." She smiled and turned to go down the tunnel to her house and Torus turned finally for home. What a weird day, he thought to himself. Everything's so crazy and tense lately.

He wandered slowly down the long tunnel that led to his den, stopping to look at things from time to time. The tunnel wound under the floorboards of some human's living room, then up through the back wall of a bathroom, and finally along the shared wall between two kitchens until it finally came to an end at a snug little rat-house in the floor under a hot water heater.

When Torus finally poked his head into the den his father was waiting.

" _There_ you are! It's about time."

"Sorry."

"You knew I needed to go out early tonight. I'd hoped you'd take that into account and be home on time."

"I said 'sorry.' I'm here now, so it's cool...you can go."

His father paused for a moment, then said, "There's some food in the nook. Feed the pups when they get hungry. With any luck I'll bring more home tonight, but just in case try not to eat up everything. Now I've got to go, I'm already late."

"Sorry! I'm sorry! You could have left earlier, you know I'd be back! Cheese, they're older than I was when you started leaving me by myself. Moki's more than half grown."

His father stopped in the entrance to the den and turned to look over his shoulder at Torus.

"That was a long time ago. Things are different now. I think you should understand that."

Torus looked down at his feet.

"Yeah, I know. I'll...try to...you better go before someone else gets all the good garbage." His voice was calm, but his ears were hot.

His father came back in and put a paw on his shoulder.

"I know things are rough now, but we'll get through it, okay? You and me and the kids, we'll pull through." He punched him gently on the shoulder and then went out. Torus listened to the scratching of his footsteps until they faded away in the darkness of the tunnel.

Then, he became aware of the sound of stifled giggling coming from the back of the den. He turned slowly around and looked at the neat pile of rags that was the family bed. It was empty, except for three tiny rat tails poking out from under an old green towel.

"Gee, I'm tired," he said, I think I'll lay down and take a NAP!"

He leapt on the bed and tore the towel away. The three little rats shrieked with delight.

"Ho NO! What's this? Rats! Rats in my bed!" The little ones squealed hysterically as he chased them around and around the room, and as they chased him in turn, until they finally collapsed in an exhausted heap in the middle of the floor.

He was still catching his breath when they started to clamor about food.

"We're hungry! Feed us!" said Moki. He was the biggest, although he was only a couple of moons older. He was a dusty gray, like Torus and their father, but the two little girls were smaller and dark brown. Their names were Shona and Nosha, and he called them Beetle and Buggle.

"Are you hungry?" he asked them, and they looked up with their big eyes and nodded. "Well, okay, let's see what there is here." He went to the nook that served as a pantry high up on one of the side walls and pulled aside the little cloth curtain. There wasn't much, some dry bread and an apple core and some popcorn in a plastic baggie. Torus was hungry, too. It had been a long time since he had half a pickle slice in the alleyway, and he had done a lot of running since then. He divided it up as well as he could, setting aside part of the apple core and some of the popcorn for later. The little ones gobbled up all their share right away and started looking longingly at Torus's food. He was far from full himself, but he gave them each a piece of his popcorn and then hurried through the rest of his dinner.

"Why can't we go look for food like everyone else?" asked Moki.

"You're too little," said Torus. "It's too dangerous."

"Shoo, we are not. We're big enough to look for food, or at least stay here while you go."

"I can't go. Dad wants me to stay here with you."

"Dad can't get enough food by himself, though. My friend Mitti says his mom and dad both go out and they have plenty of food."

"Well, we've just got Dad, so we have to make do with what we can get. Now shut up, I don't want to talk about it."

Shona spoke up around a mouthful of popcorn.

"You're big, why don't you go with Daddy to get food?"

"I haven't come of age, yet," said Torus. "I poke around a little here and there for food, but after I come of age then they'll put me on a forage team and we'll go out to the dumpsters and the humans' kitchens to collect food for the whole clan."

"Daddy goes out alone sometimes, though, right?" asked Nosha.

"Yeah, he has to sometimes to get enough for all of us, but it's kind of dangerous to go out solo."

"What's dangerous about it?" asked Moki.

"Oh, there's traps and poison and cats and humans and all kinds of things."

"What if he gets sick?"

"He always says he's too mean to get sick," said Torus. "Now it's getting late, so I need three little rats to go to bed."

Moki and Shona said "Awwwww!" but Nosha looked up sleepily, said "Okay," and shuffled toward the bed. Shona and Moki started wrestling on the floor. Torus rolled his eyes and followed Nosha to the bed. He helped her find her special piece of yellow satin cloth and got her snuggled into a corner of the nest. Then he went back to get the others, and by the time he got them to the bed (pulling one by an ear and the other by the tail) she was already asleep.

"All right, you twiddlebugs, keep fighting if you want, but if you wake up your sister I'll weave your whiskers together."

Moki said "Shoo!" and Shona yawned.

After they settled down, Shona said "Tell us a story."

"Nope, no stories tonight. It's too late."

"Aw, come on," said Moki. "It doesn't have to be a _good_ story."

"Okay, but then go to sleep, okay?" He told them about the Great Pickle Hunt in the alleyway that afternoon. They gasped when Chello ran out under Sandwich Man, and laughed when the dog knocked the man over. When it was over, Shona was asleep.

Moki said, "That's awesome! I'm as fast as Chello."

"No you're not," said Torus. "No one's as fast as Chello the Great Pickle Hunter."

"I will be when I'm big, you big – " he yawned hugely, "you big dummy." Then he closed his eyes and Torus watched until his breathing was deep and even. Then he got up and went back out into the main part of the den. He knew, even with a half empty stomach, that lying down with the sleeping pups would put him to sleep as well, and he needed to stay awake. The last time he had fallen asleep while his father was out he had been in big trouble for two whole days afterward.

So he sat against the wall under the food nook and stared at the faint light that came through the floorboards above him and tried to remember everything he could about the afternoon. He wanted to ask his father about pigeons and about the Chief's strange speech at the meeting.

He had been sitting there for he didn't know how long, and he wasn't really asleep, when a sound outside suddenly brought his attention back into the darkened space of the den. Someone was walking carefully and quietly outside at the entrance to the tunnel. He could tell it wasn't his father, and he stood up and waited silently. The footsteps stopped and there was a tense whisper in the dark.

"Torus! Torus! Can you come out here?"

It was Nevi, and she sounded frightened.

* * *

Chapter Four

Torus went to the entrance and called out softly.

"Nevi? What are you doing here?"

"Torus! Can you come up?"

He walked up the short tunnel and out into the main tunnel outside the nest.

"What's going on? Why are you out after curfew?"

"Something strange is happening. Something's not right. Where's your dad?"

"Out foraging, I guess."

"No, I don't think so. No one is out tonight. They're all somewhere else."

"How do you know? Why are you wandering around so late? You'll get into trouble."

"When I got home my mom wasn't there. That's no big deal, she's always out doing stuff so I didn't really worry about it. I got something to eat, and then I thought I'd see if I could find her. Sometimes she takes me out on the forage if things are quiet."

"Really? That's kind of risky."

"No, we keep out of the way and it's no problem. Anyway, I went out looking for her and she wasn't in any of the places she usually forages. And I didn't see anyone else out foraging either. All the tunnels are empty. It's weird." She shuddered a little.

"I can't believe you go out when it's late like this. Aren't you worried someone will see you?"

She gave him a funny look.

"No one ever sees me if I don't want them to."

"Okay, well, do you want to come in and wait 'til my dad comes home so you don't have to get back home by yourself?"

"No, that's not it at all! I want you to come out with me and figure out what's going on and where everyone is."

"What? I can't do that! I have to stay with the kids or my dad'll kill me."

"I thought they were big enough to stay alone for a little while," said Nevi. "Aren't they half grown?"

A small voice came out of the tunnel behind him.

"What's going on?" Moki came up beside him and blinked his big eyes.

"Nothing," Torus said, "Nevi just came over to say 'Hi.'"

"I heard you talking. You can go if you want. I can watch the sisters."

"Are you sure?" Torus asked uncertainly.

"Sure he can," said Nevi. "He's more than big enough." Moki smiled and his tail twitched.

"I don't know," said Torus. "What if my dad comes back?"

"He'll be gone for at least another hour if he's out foraging. Besides, we won't be long, just a few minutes to check some things out and then you can come right back."

"It's okay," said Moki. "I'll stay awake the whole time."

"Okay," said Torus. "Okay, but if anyone comes, don't say anything, okay?"

"Sure," said Moki, and he turned and went back down into the den.

Torus sighed nervously and turned to Nevi.

"All right. Where are we going?"

"Follow me," she said and she stepped quickly and silently down a side tunnel that led toward the center of the building.

Nevi led them down a winding course of little-used tunnels and pathways. It was late in the evening. Occasionally they passed near a room full of noisy humans, but for the most part the building was quiet. Torus had hardly ever been out during foraging time, but he could tell that things were unusually quiet.

"Nevi!" he whispered. "Where are we going?"

She stopped and looked over her shoulder at him, holding one claw up to her lips. Then she gestured forward and continued along the tunnel. They came at last to a small, abandoned nest and she turned and spoke to him.

"I checked some of the lookouts earlier and no one was out. There weren't even any Scouts at the posts. I can only think of two things – either there's some really amazing garbage at the park and the entire clan is over there, or else they're all gathered together inside the building for something."

"Neither of those makes any sense," said Torus. "The tunnel to the park is too small for everyone to use at once, and we already had a gathering today."

"I know, but I don't know what else to check. The park is too far to check out now, so I just want to check out the meeting place and see what's up."

"So why bring me along?"

She smiled sheepishly.

"I didn't want to be crazy all by myself."

She started off again, skittering silently along the tunnel. Now that he knew where they were headed, Torus could make some sense of the route she was taking. They were headed toward the meeting room but using side passages that avoided the main tunnels where they might run into someone. He had never been in most of them, but Nevi was running along like she went this way every day.

They finally came to the furnace room and she paused before running out on to the floor. Torus thought she was going to the doorway to the meeting room, but instead she ran to the far wall behind the enormous metal furnace. He followed her and saw her disappear into a very small hole at the base of the wall. It was almost too small for him to squeeze through, but he finally managed it. Then he followed the sound of her feet up inside the wall.

There, near the top, was a metal vent. By perching on a board below the vent and stretching up as high as they could reach, they could peer through the slits in the metal and see nearly the whole room. The floor was covered with rats, all facing the Chief and his advisors. Everything was silent. The Chief had evidently said something very profound and was pausing to let it sink in. Torus and Nevi were behind the Chief and his advisors on the platform, so all the rats on the floor were facing them as well. Torus suddenly felt very visible.

"Can they see us up here?" he whispered.

"No, I don't think so. No one has ever seen me before."

"How did you find this place?"

"It's a long story. Shhhh"

The Chief started speaking again.

"I understand your concerns," he said. "Many of you may be upset, some of you are even angry, perhaps. Please understand we took all these things into account before we made this choice. We would never have embarked on this path if we didn't feel it was in the best interests of the clan."

A rat in the front row spoke up.

"Why do we need to do this? If we claim the dumpster as Clan-right the neighboring clans will be angry. My wife is from across the alley and her family there might suffer if we do this." There were murmurs of agreement in the crowd and Nevi nodded her head silently.

"As I said, we understand your concerns," continued the Chief. "It's best for the clan that we take this course."

"I agree!" said another rat, back in the middle of the floor. "My family has barely enough to eat now. If we claim the dumpster, then we can at least take care of our children through the winter." There were louder murmurs in response to this, and some rats stomped on the floor with their feet.

"Yes, you see?" said the Chief. "It is as I said: We must do this for the good of the clan. Our very survival may depend on it. Our very survival..." The Chief paused and looked down at the floor. One of his advisors stepped up and whispered in his ear and he looked up again.

"Yes, of course," he said. "Not alone."

The advisor whispered again, more urgently. The Chief nodded but remained silent.

"Hey, look!" said Nevi. "There's my mom! And there's your dad over there."

"Where?" Torus was suddenly nervous again about being seen.

"Over there on one of the paint cans." She pointed. "By the main door."

Torus stretched up even higher to try to see better. Then the Chief spoke again.

"No one denies there are risks associated with this action. Of course we must be prepared for unhappiness and even anger from our neighbors. That is why we are not doing this alone. No. We will go forward together with friends and allies and we will protect each other's interests and each other's safety."

Torus was tired of stretching so high and he slumped back down onto the board. There was really nothing to see, anyway, and he could still hear clearly.

"Tonight is the dawn of a new day," said the Chief. "Tonight we are no longer a single clan scrambling for survival, but a member of an alliance! Together with our new partners we will secure this valuable resource for ourselves and our children!" There was more excited murmuring and foot-stamping.

"Now, if I have your agreement, I would like to introduce our new allies to you. They are a powerful friend in our time of need and I am very pleased to bring them here to meet you now."

There was a sudden clattering commotion and startled uproar of astonished shouting from the room.

"Oh, no!" Nevi said. "No, no, no..."

"What! What is it?" said Torus. He scrambled up and tried to peer out the vent again.

Nevi's voice was thin and tense.

"Pigeons."

* * *

Chapter Five

"What? Are you kidding me? Pigeons? Are they attacking us?"

Torus scrambled back up to the vent to peer out into the room. It certainly looked like an attack at first. Two mottled pigeons were flapping in wide circles around the room, while the floor below was a writhing sea of rats, some trying to run for cover, some trying to chase after the pigeons, or climb the shelves to get closer to them, some looking for weapons, or already brandishing whatever they could find, and all tumbling over one another in a mad, chaotic swirl of tails and whiskers and black flashing eyes. Torus saw his father standing on a paint can with a small nail in his hand, watching the pigeons closely. He felt a sudden surge of excitement. If there was going to be a fight, he half wanted to run home and half wanted to be down there in the middle of it!

Then, over the clamor of voices he could hear the shouts of the Chief and his advisors.

"Peace! Peace!"

"Be calm!"

"These are our guests! Calm yourselves!"

"Peace!"

Slowly the crowd settled down to an agitated silence. Torus saw his father slide down from his perch on the paint can, but he noticed he didn't put down the nail.

Once the room was quiet, the Chief called to the two birds still circling the room.

"Friends, please! All is well! Please, come and join us here!"

The pigeons stopped flapping and glided down to the box where the Chief waited. They swooped close over the heads of the crowd, causing many rats to flinch and duck their heads down. They alighted gently on the box, one on each side of the Chief. He looked a little baffled, and stood smiling nervously at them for a moment before one of his advisors, the rat named Nogolo, stepped up beside him. To Torus' surprise, instead of whispering to the Chief, he spoke directly to the pigeons himself.

"Welcome, friends," he said. His voice was thin and watery. Torus couldn't remember ever having heard him speak before. "We are certainly privileged and pleased you have taken the trouble to visit us here in our humble home."

"Welcome indeed, in deed, well come, welcome," said the pigeon. "A fine greeting, fine, fine greeting, greeting a fine welcome deed indeed!" He cocked his head to the side and regarded the advisor coolly.

Torus whispered to Nevi. "What is that? What does that mean?"

"I don't know," she whispered back. "I can't tell if it's sincere or sarcastic. It's like there's no emotion in their eyes."

"Ah, yes," continued the advisor in his thin voice. "Welcome, as I said, to our home. We wish this to be the beginning of a long legacy of friendship and faith between our kinds. We had, ah, hoped that your great leader would see fit, that is, that he would be able to join us this evening." There was a long pause while the pigeons stared unblinkingly at him. "That is...that is what we understood would happen."

There was another pause and then the other pigeon suddenly squawked.

"He joins! Join does join! He when clear the way the way is clear joins! Indeed!"

Both the birds turned toward the back of the room and called up to the cracked window.

"Culuu! Culuu! Cu cuu culuu!" they cried, before falling silent again. The room was so still Torus could hear his heart pounding in his ears. Then, there was a scratching sound at the window and a very fat pigeon pushed through the gap into the room. He, too, circled the room before descending to the box, but with only occasional flapping. He was mottled like the others, but he had many large patches of white feathers scattered irregularly around his body and wings. When he came down at last to the box the other pigeons and the Chief's advisors moved aside, allowing him to land face-to-face with the Chief. The Chief seemed to have regained his composure, and he addressed the visitor with great dignity.

"Cu'ulucu, Pigeon King of Street and Park, our sometime foe, now our friend, welcome!" and he bowed his head low.

The pigeon twitched his head to one side, and then the other, and then addressed the Chief in return.

"King Rat King Rat, great Rat King, Greetings!" Then he stared at the Chief without moving.

"You do me too much honor, friend. I am only a Clan Chief, and a poor one at that. More than ten generations have gone into darkness since we rats last had a King on this block." The Chief seemed to pause to consider this fact, and was then startled by Nogolo whispering in his ear. "Yes," he said, starting again, "we are glad of your visit and what it portends."

"What is he talking about?" whispered Torus.

"I think these pigeons are our new 'allies,'" said Nevi. She spoke the words like they made a bad taste in her mouth.

"Friendly friends indeed in deed friend," said the King. "Alas. Alas the past."

The Chief looked at him blankly and the other advisor spoke up. It was the Dinnick, who Torus had heard speak before, many times. In addition to advising the Chief, he was in charge of various training sessions for young rats, and Torus had spent many dull afternoons learning Clan History and Nesting Etiquette and innumerable other things.

"Ah, yes, there are certainly some regrettable time in the past. Our history has not always been filled with good will, as we all know. But I look to this moment, and I hope you will all look with me, as a time of change, and a chance to right the wrongs of a darker time."

"Darker yes right wrongs wrong right dark!" exclaimed one of the King's attendants.

"Alas," said the King again.

The Chief then turned and regarded the crowd of rats gathered silently on the floor before him. They were silent and still, but there was an anxious tension in the air. Many whiskers quivered and many tails twitched.

"My friends," said the Chief. "My rats. My Clan. We have struggled long enough with the shortages and uncertainties of this time. We can no longer afford to continue to waste our energy on needless conflicts with our neighbors. Tonight is the beginning of a new era of cooperation. As you know, earlier I claimed Clan-Right on the dumpster in the park. This was necessary in order to complete what is now, tonight, completed." He paused again and looked to his advisors who both urged him on with their eyes.

"This is a great day for us, the Rats of the Acme Apartment Hotel. For tonight we begin a new alliance with the Pigeons of Park Street. And we will share with them, and only with them, the bounty of the dumpster. They will guard it by day, and we by night. We will protect it from any others and retain this valuable resource for our mutual benefit." He stopped, apparently at the end of his prepared words. He smiled vaguely as if he expected something other than the stunned silence that greeted him.

Nogolo stepped forward and his weak voice seemed even more strained than before. "Please, please, my fellow rats, please accept this for what it is – a chance at a secure future and a stronger place in the neighborhood. The weather will get colder before it gets warmer, and food will be scarcer in the coming moons before it is plentiful again. Why should we continue to struggle and fight with creatures that share our needs and our desires, when instead we can work together to ensure all our survival? I ask you please, allow this thing to happen, and we will all be better off for it." He stood and gazed hopefully out toward the crowd, which began stirring and muttering restlessly.

Then the pigeon king turned to the Chief and spoke.

"Thinking sleep and on sleep think. Pigeons' parts kept and will keep, so sleeping think."

"Yes, yes, very good," said the Dinnick. "Go and think upon it and we will discuss it further tomorrow. I'm sure tomorrow everything will be clear to you all. Go now, back to your homes and listen for word of another gathering tomorrow."

Torus and Nevi watched as the crowd of rats filed out through the door and into the various tunnels that led away from the meeting place. The Chief closed his eyes as the last of the rats slipped out of the room. Then the pigeon king spoke.

"Difficult. Difficulty. Rats to follow king rat rat king rats follow, we thought, we thought. Difficult."

Nogolo spoke up, his voice smooth and wheedling. "Rats are free-thinking creatures, my noble friend. It is a great strength, but it requires delicate leadership. Be assured, they will not disappoint us. All will be as we have agreed."

"Must indeed in deed must be," said the King's attendant abruptly. Then all three pigeons leapt into the air and flew straight to the broken window and out into the late evening sky.

Nevi spoke softly.

"When Chello hears about this he's gonna have knots in his tail for a week."

* * *

Chapter Six

They watched a moment longer, but the Chief and his advisors appeared to have no plan of leaving soon.

"I think we can leave now," said Nevi quietly. "Let's go get Chello and tell him what we heard. We can probably sneak back because everyone will be out foraging now."

Torus was suddenly nervous. "I don't know, my dad might check back at the house first. I better get back quick I think."

They climbed back down to the floor of the furnace room and were halfway across when they heard voices coming from behind them as the Chief and his advisors left the meeting place. They sprinted the rest of the way across the room to the door and were surprised to see several small groups of rats gathered in scattered places around the basement standing around murmuring in low voices.

"What's going on?" Torus asked Nevi. "What about the forage?"

"No forage tonight," said a short, stout rat he didn't recognize. "Chief gave us a night off, didn't you hear?"

Torus was panic-stricken.

"Oh, no! Nevi, I've got to get home. My dad'll kill me!"

He turned and sprinted away toward the hole that led to the main tunnel through the walls to his nest. The tunnel was fairly straight, but it still twisted and turned enough to slow him down. Once he missed a turn and had to double back, and in his haste he almost missed the turn again going back the other way. He dodged past a few small groups of rats without stopping, and at one point he ran right under the nose of a Patrol Commander who shouted "Hey, pup! Where are you going?"

Torus dashed at last into the tunnel that led to his nest. Everything seemed quiet, but he was panting too hard to breathe a sigh of relief. He slowed to a trot and then a walk as he came up to the entrance and was getting ready to go inside when he was nearly knocked over by a rat who came bursting out of the hole in a fury.

It was his father. He seemed frantically distracted and confused for a moment, but as soon as he recognized Torus in the darkness his anxiety and anger became focused and sharp.

"Torus!" he said, shaking. "Where were you? Where have you been?"

"I...I..." Torus stammered. "I...we...went to – "

"' _We'_ went? Unbelievable! I can't believe you would leave the little ones sleeping and go off with your mousy friends! Why can't I trust you to do this?"

"No, Moki was awake! He said it was okay and he could watch the girls."

"Moki is not grown enough to say anything is okay! He's just a pup! It is _not_ okay for you to just go off and leave when I told you to stay here. When I got here they were all asleep and you're nowhere around – what am I supposed to think?"

"I...I'm sorry...Nevi – "

"No! No, I don't want to hear about your friends! They can't be more important than your brother and sisters. You had a responsibility to them and you let them down! You let me down! You let us all down!"

"Dad, I'm sorry, I just – "

"Stop. Just stop." His father closed his eyes and shook his head. "I can't talk about it now. Go back inside and stay there. I've got to try to find some food before the night's over."

Then, the sudden noise of a running rat rattled up the tunnel in the dark. They both turned toward the sound and within moments Chello had run into the den, his fur bristling and his eyes snapping.

He stopped in front of Torus, without acknowledging his father and said, "Why didn't you come and get me before?"

"What?" said Torus and his father together.

Before Chello could respond, Nevi ran up to them as well.

"Chello, wait," she said breathlessly. "You don't understand."

"Oh, I understand pretty well," he said sharply, glancing at her and then back at Torus.

"What's going on," his father asked, irritably. "What have you pups been up to?"

"Nothing," said Torus, trying to calm things down.

"We're not pups," said Chello edgily.

"We were just...hanging out," said Nevi, and Torus nodded in agreement.

"Hanging out?" said Chello sharply. "Is that what you call it?"

"Chello, please!" Nevi pleaded, wringing her paws.

"What are you talking about?" asked Torus's father.

"Chello!" A voice came toward them from the darkness of the tunnel.

"Oh, cheese," Chello muttered to himself. "What is it?" he called out irritably.

Chello's father came shuffling toward them. He was a little older than Torus's father. One eye was closed under a ragged scar and one front paw was crippled. It hung curled and limp as he hobbled forward on three feet. He seemed nervous, and he glanced only briefly at Torus's father before looking away.

"Hey, Nolki," he said, awkwardly.

"Hey, Neighbor," Torus's father replied. "Long time."

"Yeah, I guess so," said Chello's father. He turned to Chello. "Come on home, okay son? Don't make any trouble tonight. Just come on home."

"Dad, you know what's going on, right?" said Chello sharply.

"What's going on?" said Torus' father.

"Nothing's going on!" said Torus.

Chello's father tried to move away from the group, pulling Chello by the arm.

"Just leave it alone, son," he said. "Whatever happens is what happens. Just leave them alone and come on home."

Chello shook his arm free and faced his father angrily.

"So you're just going to let it happen? Just like that?"

"What are we talking about?" said Torus' father again, his voice edged with frustration.

"Nothing!" said Torus. "We were just – "

"I should be getting home, too," Nevi interrupted. "I'll see you guys tomorrow, okay? _Tomorrow_?" She put extra emphasis on the word as she turned to leave.

"Okay, tomorrow," said Torus.

Chello was still staring at his father, who held himself tense against his son's gaze, as if it pained him.

"I can't believe you," said Chello finally. "I thought you would have..."

Without finishing his thought he turned and rushed away, leaving his father to hobble painfully along behind him, trying to keep up.

"Dad," Torus started, but his father waved him to silence.

"Don't," he said firmly. "I don't know what that was all about, but you're not going anywhere tomorrow."

"What?!" Torus exclaimed. He was about to protest, but his father silenced him with a look.

"You go inside and stay there," he said again. "You pay attention to what needs to be done, or you won't be doing anything at all, ever! Understand?"

Torus nodded silently and blinked his eyes hard. His father turned and walked a few steps away, then stopped and turned over his shoulder.

"I'm serious," he said. "You'll stay in this hole until I say you can come out. This family needs to stick together, and if you can't do your part willingly, I swear you will do it under duress." They stared at each other for a tense moment and then his father turned quickly and disappeared into the darkness of the tunnel.

Back inside the nest, Torus paced back and forth furiously, tears of rage and frustration itching at the corners of his eyes. It was so unfair! Why wouldn't his father listen to him? Why was he expected to just hang around the den with the little pups when everyone else his age was out exploring and training? He picked up a chip of wood and threw it at the wall. It made a dull, unsatisfying sound and fell uselessly to the floor.

"Torus?" It was Moki, peeking out from the bed with big, bright eyes.

"Hello," said Torus sullenly.

"I heard Dad shouting. I'm sorry I got you in trouble."

Torus shook his head.

"No, it wasn't you, Killer. Just dumb old me again. I can't get anything right." With these words, two big tears rolled down his cheeks and he dashed them away with his paws.

"Did Dad bring any food? I'm hungry."

"No, not yet. He'll bring some later. Go back to sleep now, I want some quiet."

"Okay..." said Moki, and he rolled over and was quiet.

Torus sat in the darkness for what seemed like a long time. He couldn't explain why he felt so restless all the time. When he was a pup, he was happy to just hang around the den and play. Even when the little ones were _really_ little, he was fine just staying home and playing with them for hours on end. It seemed adventurous then to simply creep up the entrance and peek out into the main tunnel. Then they would squeal with excitement and scamper back down to the safety and comfort of the den. But a couple of moons ago that started to change. He started wandering around the nearby tunnels and exploring his neighborhood in the building.

He also started going to the Young Gatherings lead by Dinnick where he and the other young rats learned about the adult life of the clan. He met Chello and Nevi there, and some other friends, and started exploring with them and spending less time with his family. He began to feel a little trapped whenever he was in the den for too long. His feet would feel itchy and he would look for any excuse to go out and find something to do, or find one of his friends and just wander around. The idea of being trapped back in the den, even for only a few days, was unbearable.

Finally, after he didn't know how long, he stood up and shook off his tension. His fur crackled with electricity as he stretched and yawned. Suddenly, the events of the day all crashed down around him and he felt nothing but a crushing tiredness, tinged with a slight empty feeling in his stomach. If I don't think about food, he thought, I'll be asleep before I close my eyes. He climbed up on the bed and nudged Moki gently aside to make room for himself.

"Is Dad back yet?"

"Nope. Go to sleep."

Moki yawned and Torus joined him.

There was a pause, and then Moki murmured, "I wouldn't have gotten caught."

In spite of his frustration and his weariness, Torus smiled in the darkness.

"Yes, you would too get caught," he said. "Dad catches everything."

* * *

Chapter Seven

Although he spent the next day inside the den, it wasn't at horrible as he had feared. His father gave him some things to do around the house, so while the little ones played, he busied himself enlarging the food nook and re-stacking the bed.

The food nook was easy. It had originally been a large knothole in a beam of the floor above them and had been enlarged by successive families that had used the space. Torus decided the hole needed to be slightly deeper and to have a flatter bottom, so he spent the first half of the day carefully gnawing away with his sharp front teeth. It felt good to be working at something constructive. He was so absorbed in his project that he didn't notice Shona talking to him until she pulled his tail.

"Ow! Don't do that!"

"Torus..."

He pulled his head out of the hole and looked down at her.

"What is it Buggle?"

"Can I eat some of that?"

They had eaten the popcorn for breakfast, but their father had brought quite a bit of food during the night and it was piled in a neat stack on the floor while Torus worked on the nook. Among the food was a packet of crumbled cookies – a rare treasure – and the pups were anxious to open it up. This was the third time he had been interrupted with the request.

"No, we need to save that until Dad comes back. Have some of the apple core if you're hungry."

"No, I don't feel like apples..." she said sadly.

"Sorry," he said, smiling to himself.

By the time his father came home at midday, he was done gnawing at the hole and was busy hanging a scrap of cloth to cover the opening. He chose a bright flower print that had been one of his mother's favorites and carefully worked it onto the wire hooks that were jammed into the gap between the beam and the floorboards above.

As soon as his father entered the den the little ones ran to him and started jumping up and down in circles around him.

"Daddy! Daddy! Can we have cookies? Please please please please Daddy?"

He sighed tiredly.

"Sure, I guess so. They're not going to get any fresher."

The little ones squealed and danced with excitement while he came toward where Torus was working to get the packet.

"Hey," Torus said, still working.

"Hey," said his father, casting a look up at Torus's work. He didn't say anything else, and Torus hoped that meant he was pleased, or at least he wasn't disappointed. He finished hanging the cloth and went over to where the others were gathered to get his share of the cookies. His father opened the package carefully and started passing out the small, crumbled pieces. Nosha and Shona started nibbling on their pieces right away, but Moki just held on to his first piece, evidently waiting to see if the distribution would be fair. Torus was going to wait, too, just to be polite, but once he smelled the cookie in his paw he couldn't resist. He bit into it and a flood of sweetness filled his mouth. The cookie was dark and crumbly, with bits of white frosting still stuck on one side. He had a sudden urge to stuff the whole thing in his mouth, but he was able to refrain. His father continued passing out whatever pieces were worth bothering with until there was nothing in the package but crumbs.

"Hey, what about you?" Torus suddenly asked. "Aren't you going to have any?"

His father answered without looking up.

"What? Oh, no, I had some the other night before I brought these home. You kids go ahead and I'll have something else later. Right now I'm just tired. I think I'll lay down for a little nap." He folded up the package with the remaining crumbs and put it carefully back on the stack of food on the floor. "If you're done with that food nook, will you put all of this back up?"

"Sure," said Torus. He and the others kept eating their cookies until they were all gone. Torus considered for a moment that he should save a couple of pieces and put them back in the package for later, but the sweetness was overpowering. He finished the last piece, and then licked the last tiny crumbs from his claws. The little ones were already done and had started bouncing up and down and chasing each other back and forth squealing hysterically. He looked over at his father lying on the bed with his back to the room and then spoke to them.

"Listen, Dad's trying to rest. Why don't you go out and play in the tunnel just outside?"

"Really? Can we?" said Moki?

"Sure, just stay in sight of the entrance and come back inside if you hear anything or see anyone you don't know."

They scampered off and Torus busied himself with putting all the food back in the newly enlarged food nook. He worked carefully, trying to organize things in a way that made sense. He put anything that might spoil soon on one side, like the apple core and a small bunch of grapes. On the other side he put the folded package of cookie crumbs and another small package of something that might be nuts. In the middle he put everything else; some more bread crusts, an orange peel, some chicken bones and other miscellaneous, barely identifiable foods.

He stepped back and looked at his handiwork before letting the bright flowered cloth fall back into place covering the nook. He looked back over toward the bed and saw that his father had rolled over and was watching him.

"How's that?" Torus asked.

"Looks pretty good," said his father. "With a little luck we'll be able to find enough food to really fill it soon."

Torus thought he was probably talking about the new arrangement with the dumpster in the park, but he didn't say anything other than "Yeah, I hope so."

There was a sudden sound of running and shouting outside and Moki came tumbling in laughing and out of breath.

"Hey Torus," he gasped. "Your friends are here. Chello's here and he raced us and I beat him!"

"No you didn't either beat him!" The girls' voices came down the entrance in unison. "He let you win!"

"No way!" Moki shouted, and he ran back up the tunnel.

"Can I go out and talk to them?" Torus asked his father.

His father considered for a moment, glancing at the newly enlarged food nook.

"Sure," he said. But don't wander off anywhere. Bring the little ones back in before too long."

"Thanks, I will," Torus said. "Thanks." He turned and raced up the short entrance tunnel and found Nevi and the girls watching a spinning ball of fur that he could only assume was Chello and Moki.

"Hi," he said. "What brings you guys over here?"

"We didn't see you anywhere today, so we thought we'd come over and see what was going on."

"Oh." Torus paused. "Nothing...just doing some stuff with the kids and taking care of some things in the nest."

"Yeah, I figured..." said Nevi. "Sorry about last night. I didn't expect it to lead to any trouble."

"Oh, it's no trouble. It's all cool." Torus wished she would talk about something else.

Chello and Moki stopped wrestling and stood staring at each other, panting.

"You're pretty fast, Micromouse."

"Yeah I am! I'm faster than you any day!"

"Maybe so...in like a hundred moons!"

"Nyaah!" said Moki. "Hey, Torus! I beat Chello in a race and then I beat him just now wresting!"

"Yeah, I saw you!" said Torus. "We better all be careful now!"

Shona tugged on his elbow and looked up at him.

"Can we go down the long tunnel?" she asked.

"Sure," he said. "Just stay where I can see you, okay?"

"Okay," she said, and she and Nosha started away.

"Hey, I wanna come!" shouted Moki, and he scampered off after them.

Chello came up laughing and shaking dust out of his fur.

"He's great!" he said.

There was a pause that went on too long.

"So...what's going on?" asked Torus.

"Nothing, really," said Nevi.

"Yeah," said Chello, "nothing unless you count the Pigbirds taking over the Clan."

"Shhh! Keep it quiet! My dad doesn't know that's where I was last night."

"Yeah, well, at least you were somewhere other than home listening to your parents fight. You guys should have had me come along..."

"Sorry," said Nevi. "I already told you we didn't know what was going on until we were already there."

"Okay. Whatever."

"But that's what we came to talk about," said Nevi. "There's some things that don't make sense."

Chello snorted.

"None of it makes sense."

"Hush," said Nevi. "For example, your dad was there and my mom, but Chello's parents and his big brother weren't. How come? And did you see Mr. Nile? He's at almost every meeting whether he's invited or not."

"No, I...well, I wasn't looking for him, so..." Torus trailed off. He glanced down the tunnel and saw his siblings in the distance. "Hey!" he shouted. "Not too far!" Moki waved a paw at him and they continued wandering.

"So why do you think those rats weren't around last night? There were others, too. It wasn't the whole Clan that was there."

"I'll tell you why," said Chello. "If me and my brother were there those stupid birds wouldn't even have a chance to land."

"What is it with you and pigeons?" asked Torus.

"Are you serious? Where have you been?" Chello was incredulous.

"But they're just birds, right? What's the problem with them?"

"Have you seen my dad? His eye? And his crippled paw? He didn't get those falling down the stairs. Pigeons did it to him!"

"What?" Torus was stunned.

"They're vicious," said Chello, his voice rising. "He got in a fight with them when I was just little, right after my little brothers were born. He almost didn't make it home."

"Chello, quiet." Nevi put a gentle paw on his arm.

"All I remember, my whole life, is my dad laying there hurt and my mom screaming. Then he gets a little better, but he can't forage right, and he doesn't like to leave the nest. Someone's always got to scratch his back 'cause of his bad paw. He talks tough at home, always saying he's going to go out and kill them and stuff, but you saw what he was like last night, right? As soon as he's out of the den he starts shaking unless he's with a crowd. Pathetic. So my mom's always on his case and my brother's in and out of the den all the time. It's a mess. Those birds wrecked my family. I can't stand them!" His voice was shaking.

"Okay," said Torus. "Okay, that's...wow..."

Nevi continued. "So we think maybe anyone who might be a danger to the plan was 'left out' of the meeting last night."

"Whatever's going on, it stinks," said Chello. "It stinks like scat."

"Calm down," said Torus. "If my dad hears you I'll be stuck in the den forever."

"Are you really in trouble for last night?" asked Nevi.

"Kinda, yeah..." Torus didn't like to admit his father still treated him like a pup. "I've got to keep my tail clean until it blows over."

"What about gatherings? Can you go to gatherings?"

"I don't know, I'd have to ask. Why?"

"They called a Young Gathering for tomorrow. See if you dad will let you go."

"If they talk about this stinking deal with the pigbirds I'm walking out," said Chello.

"Yeah, fine, I'll ask my dad – hey! Where are the pups?" Torus jumped up and looked as far down the tunnel as he could. He could just make out the form of some small creatures in the distance and he took off running toward them.

"Hey!" he shouted. "That's too far! Come back!" As he drew closer, however, it became clear that these were not his brother and sisters. There were only two of them, and they weren't rat pups but full grown mice. They regarded him with skepticism as he ran up panting.

"Have you seen three little rats?" he asked.

"Oh, aye. Down yonder," said one of the mice waving further down the tunnel.

"Thanks!" Torus gasped and he headed off again. He was almost at the far wall of the building when he found them crouched in a small nook off one side of the tunnel. They jumped out at him.

"Bark bark bark!" they said.

"We're dogs!" said Shona, "and you're a pickle hunter!"

"We got you!" laughed Nosha, falling on her side in hysterics.

"No pickle for you this time!" said Moki. "The dogs ate you up!"

"You shouldn't have wandered this far away," said Torus. "This is too far! It's time to come home now, anyway. Let's go."

"Awww! How come?"

"Because I said so! Come on, I'll race you!"

They all set off running back toward the den. Torus thought about letting Moki win, then changed his mind. But he was already tired from running to find them and by the time they came close to home he was trailing behind all three of them.

"I winned!" shouted Moki. "I winned again!"

"Yes," panted Torus. "Yes you did. Go on inside now and see if Dad has a snack for you."

They tumbled down into the den, leaving Torus and his friends outside. Chello looked at Torus and shook his head.

"Pitiful," he said.

"Whatever," said Torus. "I ran twice as far as they did."

"Yeah, and you're also twice as slow, so if you run twice as far but you're twice as slow, you'll get there at the same time as them. That's math."

"Very impressive."

"Are you coming to the south dumpster with us?" asked Nevi.

"No, I've got to stay here, I already said..."

"Okay, House-Mouse," said Chello. "We'll bring you a pickle!"

"Whatever," said Torus again, but this time he was smiling.

Chello and Nevi turned to go and Torus went back into the den. The pups were sitting around an orange peel arguing about splitting it up and his father was over near the bed grooming himself to go back out.

"Hi there," he said.

"Hey," said Torus. "There's a Young Gathering tomorrow. Can I go?"

His father glanced up and then went back to grooming.

"What's it about?"

"I dunno." Torus shrugged although he suspected it had something to do with the pigeons and the dumpster. "Probably more about coming of age and 'what do you want to do for the Clan' and that kind of thing. I don't have to go if you don't want."

His father continued grooming the fur on his back without looking up.

"No, I think it's alright," he said. "Just come home as soon as it's over, okay?"

"Okay, thanks! I will, sure, thanks!"

Torus was suddenly hungry.

"Is it okay if I eat that apple core?"

"Let's split it. I need to go back out and I'll try to bring more back tonight."

Torus got the apple out of the nook and handed it to his father, who broke it in half. He handed Torus the larger piece and they ate in silence for a while. Then, Torus cleared his throat and spoke.

"How's the foraging going?" His father paused and looked at him questioningly. "I mean, with winter coming, will there be enough food?"

"Winter's always hard," said his father. "You were born at the beginning of the last winter, so you don't remember it, but it was harder than most. There's always less food, but we can always find enough to get by. That's what we do."

"Yeah, I know. At least this winter I'll be able to help, though, right?"

His father's expression was unreadable. "I suppose so. It depends on a lot of things, you know."

Torus didn't know what to make of that statement, so he finished the rest of his apple in silence.

After his father left, Torus turned to the task of re-stacking the bed. The bed was a pile of neatly stacked pieces of cloth they family had collected over many moons. Periodically they took the stack apart and shook out the cloths to fluff them. They discarded any worn out pieces and added any new scraps they had collected. Torus had helped his father with the chore, but this was the first time he had been asked to do it himself. The pups were playing on the bed, so the first step was to push them off onto the floor.

"Tor-RUS!" shouted Moki. "We were playing there!"

"Sorry, I've got a job to do."

All the pups started yelling at him at the same time.

"Cheese, you guys are too noisy!" He took a piece of green dustcloth and threw it over the top of them. "Noisy noisy noisy!" As quickly as he could he snatched pieces of cloth from the bed and tossed them over the squirming, giggling pile on the floor. Soon Moki and the girls scrambled out and started throwing them back at him.

"Hey! Stop that! I'm trying to work here!"

Eventually there was nothing left where the bed was and scraps of cloth were scattered all over the den.

"Okay," said Torus. "Help me put all this back together now."

"How come?"

"You started it!"

"I'm hungry!"

"After the bed is back together we can eat, okay? Just bring me the pieces and I'll put them back."

The pups grumbled, but soon made a game of retrieving the scraps and bringing them to Torus. While the pile grew at his feet, Torus worked to lay each piece smoothly in place. It was more difficult than he remembered. Every time he lay a piece down and tried to smooth it out with his paws, the pieces underneath would become crumpled. He became increasingly frustrated until he finally picked up a piece of brown cotton that was too worn to be useful and he threw it across the room. Something about the way he threw it made it unfurl in the air and it flattened out and sailed through the air to land on the floor almost perfectly flat. Torus stared at it for a moment, then picked up another piece and tried throwing it the same way.

"Hey, I just brought that over already," whined Nosha.

"Shush, I'm trying something," said Torus. The second piece also sailed through the air although it didn't land as smoothly as the first piece. Picking up another cloth, he tried throwing it over the bed. He soon figured out how to fling the cloths over the bed while holding one or two corners. The cloths settled gently and slowly where he wanted them, without any wrinkles or crumples. When he was done, the bed was smooth and flat and more fluffed up than he remembered it being in a long time. The little ones wanted to jump on it, but he made them stop.

"Wait until Dad comes home so he can see what a great job we did."

"Where is he?" asked Shona.

"I don't know. It's kind of late, I guess he's gone out foraging at this point." He got them all something to eat and they were so tired from all the day's running that by the time they finished the pups were nearly asleep where they sat.

"Alright, up on the bed you three," he said. He expected them to argue, but they only resisted feebly while he guided them to the back of the den. They curled up together in their favorite corner and fell asleep almost at once.

Torus made sure they were asleep and then sat in his waiting spot under the food nook. This was a good day, he thought. I did good today. If tomorrow is just as good then everything should be back to normal after that.

Thinking these thoughts, he rested his chin on his paws and prepared himself to stay awake until his father returned.

He woke up suddenly to the sound of footsteps in the entry and snapped his head up just in time to see his father coming in with a large bundle in his arms.

"I'm awake!" he said.

"I can see that," his father smiled. "Jump up in bed. I'll just put this stuff away and be there in a minute."

Torus wanted to stay up and talk, but while he was thinking of what to say his mind wandered away. He started thinking about looking for a piece of string and it was lost under some papers. He picked up the papers one by one and they floated up into the air and swirled around him, fluttering gently. Then his father's voice startled him awake again.

"To bed! To bed!"

This time Torus got up and shuffled over to where the pups were sleeping. He climbed up and stretched out, yawning. He barely noticed when his father came over a few minutes later and scratched him behind the ear.

"Goodnight, son," he said.

"Mm," said Torus. He was looking for string again.

* * *

Chapter Eight

By the middle of the next morning, Torus was restless and frustrated and bored. He and his father were in the middle of the room on either side of a pile of cardboard scraps and pieces of stiff wire. His father was building some kind of contraption and Torus was trying to help, but he couldn't stop thinking about getting out of the den and going to the gathering.

"Hey you!" his father said. "Hello?"

"Sorry...what?"

"Hold your end up a little higher so I can stick this piece on." His father was holding onto one end of the construction and was trying to secure a triangular piece of cardboard to the underside by looping a piece of thick, gray tape over a stiff wire that ran under the thing from front to back. Torus held up his end and watched his father struggle with it for a moment.

"Why don't we turn it over so you don't have to work underneath it like that?"

His father glared at him but he was holding the tape between his teeth and didn't say anything. He finally got the piece stuck on and they set the object down gently and stepped back to look at it. It looked like a strange sort of shoe with a kind of handle on one end. Torus thought it might be the back end but it was hard to tell.

"What is it we're building here?"

His father was silent for a moment. "I think we should turn it upside down to get the other pieces on the bottom." Torus rolled his eyes. "That way we won't have to hold it up in the air, see?" and he poked Torus in the ribs with a piece of wire.

"Stop it!" said Torus. "What is this thing? It doesn't make any sense."

"Oh, you'll see once I get the straps on later. Here, help me turn it over."

They struggled to get the thing onto its top and finally succeeded with only one or two of the taped joints coming undone.

"Don't worry about those," said his father. "We can get those later. Here hold this while I tape this other thing on."

Torus stood bored again holding pieces of cardboard and wire while his father puttered with the tape. The contraption was taking shape, but Torus still couldn't tell what shape it was supposed to be. It looked lopsided and like it would fall apart if someone looked at it the wrong way.

"Okay," said his father finally, "let's flip it back over. They did, and he quickly repaired the broken joints, as well as one other that had separated as they turned it upright.

"There!" his father exclaimed proudly. "I admit I'm not much of a builder, but put some straps on the front of that and it's the best little food sledge anywhere."

"A food what?"

"A sledge. A food sledge. You fill it up with food and then you can drag it home without having to carry it all on your back in a bundle."

Torus thought he knew why his father was suddenly interested in bringing lots of food home, but he didn't want to let him know he knew, so he paused a moment and then said casually, "I thought food was scarce. Is there enough food to fill up a sledge this big?"

His father was equally casual.

"Oh, well, the food supply goes up and down all the time. I just want to be ready the next time there's a lot to be had. With just me foraging there's no way for me to take advantage of a really good night."

"Huh. I guess that's good, then..." Torus said. "Of course, I'm coming of age soon, and then I can forage too, right? That ought to help, I guess..." He trailed off, suddenly self-conscious at his boldness.

His father looked at him amusedly.

"We'll see. It depends on a lot of things." He looked back at his creation and stepped over to press a loose piece of tape back down. "It's not exactly beautiful, is it? Well, like I said, I'm not much of a builder, but this way if some human finds it then it won't think it's anything but a wad of trash that got stuck together."

"Do humans ever find our stuff?"

"Oh, sure, sometimes, but the way humans are, they never find anything they're not looking for."

"What does that mean?"

"It means they don't think we can build anything or do anything meaningful, so when they find something we made they only see garbage and get rid of it. They think they're the only ones here, so they don't notice anything else. Rats and dogs and cats and bugs and birds – we're all the same to them."

Torus thought about that for a minute. He had hardly ever seen a human, other than Sandwich Man. Normally he just caught a fleeting glimpse of a foot or heard one of them howling before he bolted for the nearest hole.

"Well, I need to go find some straps," said his father. "Wait here until I get back."

"What if the gathering starts? What if Chello or Nevi comes to get me."

His father stopped and considered.

"If they come before I get back, wait until after the pups have eaten lunch, then you can go." With that he turned and disappeared up the tunnel.

Torus watched him until his tail was out of sight and then muttered to himself.

"Fine. Great. 'Feed the pups. Wait 'til I get back. Don't do anything exciting or normal and whatever you do don't come of age and help out around here.' Cheese!" In frustration he threw a piece of cardboard at the strange shoe-sledge his father had built. It wasn't a very big piece of cardboard, but it was enough to knock one of the sides loose and undo one of the taped joints that held it up. With a side panel hanging loose the whole thing looked dangerously close to collapsing.

"Oh, scat!" he said in a tense whisper. He watched frozen for a moment but nothing else happened, so he breathed a sigh and went over to inspect the damage. As he looked at it, it seemed to him that the thing was not so much damaged as poorly built to begin with. He started putting the side panel back in place, but he noticed if he flexed it a certain way it stayed in place better. And it was just a little too long for its space, so he nibbled it judiciously to get a better fit. Once he was done with that, he noticed a loose joint at the back near the bottom that he also adjusted. He moved from there to re-setting the sliders on the bottom and then to some careful adjustments to some of the wires that supported the structure. It took a few tries to learn to bite off the right size of tape without getting it gummed up in his teeth, but after he managed that he moved gradually around the sledge tightening up and adjusting almost every connection. He was so engrossed with his project he didn't notice for quite a while that Moki and the girls had come out of the back room and were standing around watching him and whining about their empty tummies.

Moki finally shouted at the top of his lungs, "Hey TORUS!"

Torus looked around at him, startled.

"What is it?"

"What did you do to Dad's thing? We're hungry!"

"I didn't do anything to it, why? What time is it?"

"It's lunchtime, can't you tell?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess so..." Torus had no idea what time it was, but his stomach suddenly felt like it could use something to eat as well. He pulled a piece of tape from his paw and stepped back to look at the sledge. It was the same sledge, of course, but it seemed to look a lot more purposeful and less haphazard than before.

"Seriously," said Moki. "What did you do to it?"

"I don't know, nothing, really. I just put a little more tape on a few spots..."

"It looks good," said Nosha, and Shona nodded in agreement.

"It looks like it might even work," said Moki.

Torus laughed.

"Maybe, but remember, it's still basically Dad's work. Let's see what there is to eat okay?" he said, and they raced to the food nook to fight over lunch.

They had almost finished eating when a voice came down the short tunnel. "Torus? Are you there?"

"Yeah, we're here, Nevi, come on down."

Shona and Nosha rushed over to her and started chattering at her.

"Come and do something with us!"

"Come in and see our toys!"

"Will you stay and play with us?"

She laughed and said, "Maybe later. I came to get Torus to go to a gathering. Besides, you should finish eating before you start playing."

"Come in and join us," said Torus.

"No, thanks, I'm not hungry."

"But we've got orange peels! Look, here's a whole half an orange with most of the pulp still on it."

"No, I..."

"Oh, come on, you love oranges," he said, waving the fruit at her. "Eat the orange. Eeeaaat the oooorannnge," he said hypnotically.

She rolled her eyes.

"It's your last piece. I'm not going to take the last piece of orange when you have all these little ones to keep happy."

"Pff. They're stuffed. They've lost interest. Come on and share this orange. There's going to be plenty of food from now on, you know. It's new golden age."

"Be careful," she said, suddenly nervous. "Don't be so glib until things are clearer. What if your dad hears you?"

"He won't hear me, he went out for straps," said Torus.

"Won't hear what?" said his father coming into the room with an armload of string.

"Straps?" said Nevi. "What does he need straps for?"

"For this," said Torus hastily, gesturing at the sledge.

"Wow," said Nevi. "That's impressive. What is it?"

"It's a food sledge," said Torus. "We built it."

"Won't hear what?" said his father, looking from one to the other.

"I put some extra tape on some of the joints," he told his father. "I think it'll be stronger now."

"Really? Huh," said his father looking at the sledge. "Yes, it looks pretty sturdy now." He gave Torus a long, penetrating glance. "Did you use up all the tape?"

"What? No, there's plenty left. Here," said Torus picking up the roll and handing it to him.

"So, this is for pulling loads of food?" asked Nevi.

"Yes," said Nolki, still looking at Torus. Then he turned and put the string and the roll of tape down inside the sledge. "Yes, it's for pulling enormous loads of delicious food from the park here to our little home. I'm starving. Did you save me any orange peel?"

Torus and Nevi shared a quick glance.

"Absolutely," said Torus, retrieving the orange. "We saved you the best one!"

"Well!" said his father. "That's a pleasant surprise. Let me eat quickly and then we can get to work on the straps."

"Actually, I came to get Torus for the gathering," said Nevi. "Is it okay if he goes?"

"Oh, is it that late already? Um, yes, sure, he can go. That's fine. Go ahead and I'll work on the straps." He looked down at the orange and scratched his head. "Yes, that's fine...go to your gathering and...we can talk when you get back." He looked back up at Torus and seemed slightly cofused. "Okay?"

"Yeah, that's great, thanks," said Torus. "We'll come right back after and help finish up." Then he and Nevi turned and walked out into the main tunnel.

Once they were out of earshot of Torus's house Nevi spoke.

"Why are parents so weird? It's like your dad doesn't want you to go to this, but my mom couldn't wait to get me out of the house. She kept saying 'You don't want to be late,' and 'Why don't you go over and make sure you get a good spot.' She even sent me over to Chello's to make sure he knew about it even though she reminded him about it herself when she saw him yesterday."

"I don't know," Torus replied. "My dad's okay, I guess, but every time I mention coming of age he gets all weird and anxious and can't wait to change the subject."

"Yeah, it's crazy. And who even knows about Chello's parents. They're so busy fighting I don't think they pay him any attention at all."

"Did you see him this morning?"

"Yeah, for a minute, until his brother came out and started acting like an idiot."

"Did you talk to him about...the thing last night?"

"What? Oh, no, it...it didn't come up. We can talk about it more after the gathering. Hopefully he's calmed down by now."

"Where's he meeting us?"

"I don't know, we didn't talk about it. I guess we'll just meet him along the way or meet him there or something."

"Well what did you talk about then, if you didn't talk about the gathering and you didn't talk about the pigeons?"

"Nothing! We didn't talk about anything! I just said 'Hey' and he said 'Hey' and then that jerk brother of his came out and I left. Cheese, Torus, you're like my grandma."

Torus had no response for this, and they walked the rest of the way in silence. As they got closer to the gathering place, more rats joined their path one or two or three at a time. Torus saw many rats he knew, and many more he did not know, all about his age. But there was no sign of Chello.

The crowd was unusually quiet. Instead of a steady murmur of greetings and gossip, there was only the low rustle of claws and tails on the hard floor, and the faint hiss of a few whispered conversations.

Once inside the gathering place, Torus saw Chello already far inside. He nudged Nevi and gestured with a nod toward their friend. Chello was standing near the raised platform in the middle of the room, apart from the other young rats, talking with Patrol Commander Dumash, or rather, listening and nodding while Dumash spoke. Even as quiet as it was, they couldn't make out a single word he said.

Nevi whispered to Torus, "Dumash wants him in the Patrol. He's probably bugging him about that again."

"That's okay, though, isn't it? He'd be pretty good in the Patrol, I guess."

"Shh!" she hissed, and nodded back toward the center of the room. Chello had seen them and was coming over to join them and Advisor Nogolo was climbing onto the platform, talking with Dumash and one of the Scout officers.

Chello shuffled up with a curious mixed expression on his face and whispered to his friends.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Shh."

"What's up?"

"I've got to – "

"Shh!"

"Where's Dinnick?"

"I dunno..."

"SHH!"

Advisor Nogolo was facing the crowd and the quiet rustling grew still and the whispers became silence.

Nogolo paused for a moment and smiled warmly.

"My young friends," he said, "I have the opportunity to participate in and preside over many gatherings. Some are dark and some are light, and they are all rewarding in their own ways. But these Young Gatherings are my favorites, and this particular gathering is my favorite among favorites. That's why I've asked Dinnick to let me take his place today. Do you know why?" He paused again, still smiling at the stony silence that met him.

"Well, I'm sure some of you at least have some idea, even if it is not entirely clear in your minds. Friends, this is your last Young Gathering. At the next moon you will all come of age. You will cease to be pups and children and begin to take your full places in the Clan. This gathering is to prepare you for that change."

He stopped, still smiling, and a low murmur grew out of the silence. He clearly expected his audience to be excited, and perhaps a little nervous. He had not yet sensed the tension that Torus and his friends had felt ever since entering the room, indeed ever since the events of two nights ago. Suddenly a voice called out from near the back of the room. It was a rat Torus didn't know, a big, dark-furred rat with a steady gaze and a splash of white on his chest.

"We heard about something else," he said, bluntly. "Something about the birds. Are you going to tell us about that?"

The tension broke in the room and a clamor of voices rose up. Clearly word about the agreement with the pigeons had gotten around and everyone's thoughts were preoccupied with that. Torus was stunned. He couldn't imagine having the courage to speak out in that way. He looked back at the Advisor and the smile was gone. In its place was a look of shock. He stood for a moment with his mouth slightly open but without a word to say. Then, he regained his composure and raised his arms, motioning the crowd to quiet. The muttering died away slowly, but he waited patiently. He gazed slowly around the room, catching the eye of one rat after another until the room settled down to silence. Then, at last, he spoke.

"Yes," he said. "Yes, there is another change. Most remarkable, most amazing you have learned of it. You are without doubt a most exceptional group of young rats. I am pleased, and humbled, to be with you at this time. Yes, a great change is coming, is indeed already upon us. And since you now know of it, you will have a part in it, whether you will or no. In some ways your fate was handed to you, but in other ways, you have shaped your own fates with this knowledge. I will help you, I will do what I can to help you be ready for this. But you must take the greatest part of that burden yourselves. And I think you are ready. A few moments ago, I doubted you were ready. Before I stepped up here, even when I began speaking, I doubted you were ready. But you have surprised me. You brought this to me and demanded to know, and so I think you are now ready. I look in your eyes and I know you are. I am pleased, and hopeful. And a little frightened. We should begin."

* * *

Chapter Nine

It was the longest, most boring gathering Torus had ever been to. Dinnick's Young Gatherings had been informal and entertaining, and he always had kept them active by playing Cats and Rats, or Spring the Trap. Instead of lecturing, he mostly told stories, and yet the young rats came away having learned more than they realized about life in the Clan and how to survive.

But Nogolo's approach was to stand nearly motionless and recite information in his wheedling voice. After tying to get them all excited about coming of age, he stood on the platform and told them all about what that meant. Torus and the others already knew most of what he was talking about, but that didn't stop him from going into excruciating detail about every aspect of it. They would all be given some responsibility in the Clan (he called it a 'purpose'), such as Patrol, or Scout, or Runner, or some function in the Chief's circle. Everyone would forage, if they were able. Most of them would leave their families' dens and make dens of their own (this made many of them uncomfortably nervous, and they glanced around to see who was watching them, if anyone). Torus had to fight to keep himself from drifting off to sleep.

He startled awake when Chello punched him in the shoulder.

"Why is he going on and on and on like this?" Chello whispered. "He could have told us everything we need to know in the time it takes to scratch your nose, but we've been here for half the day!"

"I don't know, maybe he's trying to make us forget about the pigeons."

Chello snorted in reply and went back to picking specks of dirt off his tail.

Torus looked around at the crowd and saw that they were all in a similar state. When the meeting had started, they were alert and upright, and for the first little while, most of them really tried to pay attention. But now, in the middle of the afternoon, they sat slumped against one another, or even laid out on their sides with their eyes glazed over like they'd been poisoned. Some of them were plainly sound asleep, and others were huddled in little groups whispering conversations that had nothing to do with the gathering.

And still Nogolo kept talking steadily about responsibilities and privileges and the minute details of Foraging Etiquette. Torus wondered how he could keep going when it was clear no one was paying any attention to him. Then he noticed the big rat who had spoken up at the beginning. He was still at the back of the crowd, and still was sitting straight up with his eyes locked on the speaker, apparently taking in every word. His expression was unreadable, but he looked more grimly determined than seemed natural, considering the subject.

He nudged Chello.

"Hey, who is that?" he asked, gesturing at the tall rat.

Chello glanced up briefly and then returned his attention to the end of his tail.

"I dunno...his name is Jube or something like that. He's from up on the second floor."

"His name is Juke," said Nevi. "His parents are friends with my mom."

"Why is he so interested in this?" asked Torus.

"Maybe he just has to work really hard at paying attention so he understands what's going on," said Chello.

"No, I don't think so," said Nevi. "I don't know him very well, but he's always really intense. I think he wants to get onto the Patrol."

"Huh," said Chello without looking up. "He's big enough, I guess. Don't know if he's any good in a fight, though."

"Why do you care?" asked Nevi. "Are you going for Patrol, too?"

Chello shrugged.

"Dunno yet. Haven't decided." He paid extra close attention to an invisible speck on the very tip of his tail and didn't say anything else.

Advisor Nogolo was at the end of his speech and the crowd started moving restlessly. He raised his voice above the growing murmur.

"So when you have decided what it is you want to do, be sure to talk to the lead rat for that group. And don't waste time making up your mind or all the positions might be filled and you'll have to wait for an opening. All right, well. Thank you for your attention. You may go."

With that, the rats got up and started stretching and yawning and preparing to leave. Then a voice could be heard shouting above the chattering voices.

"Wait! Wait! What about the other thing? What about the pigeons?"

It was Juke, still standing perfectly still and staring at the advisor. The crowd grew suddenly quiet. Nogolo momentarily lost his warm and friendly manner and he stared sharply at Juke for a few seconds.

"Very well," he said. "I would prefer more patience on your parts, but it won't do to have you all leave here with half-formed or wholly incorrect ideas about the future." He took a deep breath and seemed to relax a little. "Please settle back down, all of you, and I'll do my best to explain things as far as I can. I can't pretend to know all that happens at the highest level of the Clan Leadership, but I think I can tell you what you will need to know to assist with the changes that are coming."

"Liar," muttered Nevi under her breath. "He knows exactly what goes on at the highest level. He _is_ the highest level, since the Chief is getting so soft in the head."

"Shh!" Torus hissed.

"It is certainly not news to any of you that food is scarce," Nogolo continued. Most of you are old enough to know that food supplies fluctuate over time, but you must also have noticed, or have heard from your parents, that things are unusually lean at this time. It's not clear what the reason is behind this shortage, but it's clear we can't simply sit by and wait for things to improve. Things certainly _will_ improve in time, but we can't say for how long we would have to wait, and the shortage is such now that we feel we must take more direct action to ensure the continued health and safety of the clan."

Some in the crowd murmured approval while some remained skeptical and others looked positively frightened.

"And you must also know that, beside the dumpsters for this building, a crucial source of food for us is the big dumpster in the park across the street. Nearly every night members of the clan make the dangerous journey through the tunnels under the street to gather food in the park. This resource is critical to our survival through this difficult time, and the actions we have taken will ensure we will continue to benefit from it.

"You will all remember the previous gathering when The Chief claimed Clan-Right to it. The dumpster is closer to our building than to any other building on the block, and we have been visiting it for generations. We are the only Clan with a direct tunnel right to the dumpster, so naturally we can claim Clan-Right to it. So far no other clan has disputed our claim, so they will surely recognize it." He paused to let this sink in.

"But what if they don't?" he continued. "What if they refuse to allow us our rightful access to it? And what of the Park Rats, who have no laws and no orderly way of resolving disputes?"

"And the pigeons? What about the pigeons?" Juke asked persistantly.

"I'll come to that!" snapped Nogolo. "Hold your peace!" The fur on his shoulders raised up slightly, then smoothed down again.

"Clearly we cannot guard the can all day and all night. Clearly we will need to engage in some partnership to be successful in this. There is not enough food in the dumpster for all the rats on the block, nor all the pigeons, but there is enough for _one_ Clan of rats, and _one_ flock of pigeons. The Chief in his wisdom has agreed to a partnership with the King of the Pigeons of Park Street. His flock will guard the dumpster from other pigeons and the Park Rats by day, and we will guard it from other Clans by night. We will share the resource with them while we benefit from each other's vigilance." He paused to let the idea sink in. Across the floor rats looked pensive, or confused, or still slightly frightened. A few, including Chello and Juke, looked frankly skeptical.

"Why pigeons?" someone asked. "Why not team up with one of the other clans?"

"We considered, that. Actually, that was our first choice. But there would be no way to protect the dumpster during the day. The humans in the park wouldn't tolerate rats guarding it and then there would be no one to keep the other pigeons away. For some reason humans are more tolerant of the birds than they are of us. So by necessity we approached the flock and made the agreement we now have."

Another voice piped up.

"My family has relatives and friends in the next building over. What if we meet them at the dumpster?"

"There will doubtless be some period of transition while everyone becomes used to the new...arrangement," Nogolo replied. "It may be uncomfortable for some, but I'm sure you'll agree that for the greater good of the clan a little discomfort is worth the reward."

Suddenly Chello stood up.

"I won't do it," he said. "Agreement or not, I won't work with pigbirds and neither will my family." He turned to leave and there was a sudden angry murmur of agreement from across the room.

"Wait! Please wait," said Nogolo. "Please, I beg you, stay and hear this through." Chello paused, and then returned to his place and settled back down, his eyes snapping angrily.

"Thank you," said Nogolo. "I understand your feelings...Chello, isn't it? I know your father, Chello, I know the struggle he bears. Many rats among us have similar pains and more. I have scars myself from many battles, not only with pigeons, but with rats from other clans, with cats and dogs...that has been our way of life as long as anyone knows. How long can that continue? Of course we must protect ourselves from threats, but how long can we continue the fight alone? If we don't begin to form alliances with our adversaries, it is only a matter of time before they begin to unite against us. How long would we stand then? We might go from having partial access to the can to having no access at all. How would we live through the winter moons then, with less and less food in the building? I'm not asking you to be best friends with all the pigeons in the park, just to agree not to fight with the birds of one particular flock. And they agree not to fight with us. It may be an uneasy alliance – I have no doubt there will be conflicts or arguments from time to time – but in the end we will all be better off. We will have more access to the dumpster than we have now and we will have to fight less to get it. Can you agree to that? Can you agree to try?" He looked imploringly at Chello, and then around the room, finally looking at Juke at the back of the room and holding his eyes steady for several seconds.

Chello seemed to hold his breath, and then finally broke the silence.

"I can try it. I'm willing to try it. But put me on Patrol and let me be part of the squad that keeps the pigbirds in line. I don't trust them."

Nogolo looked down at him, visibly relieved.

"Good!" he said. "Excellent, thank you, Chello. Talk to Commander Dumash about Patrol. I have no doubt with you on the squad the alliance will be a success." He smiled and spoke to the crowd at large.

"There will be time to answer all your questions in the days to come. It's getting late and you all need to be in your homes before the forage starts. Go now and think things over. Talk with your parents about it, and about what job you would like to take on in the Clan. Talk to whatever Commanders or Leaders are in charge of the teams you are interested in. In the next few days you will need to decide so we can make the announcements at your Introduction."

With that, he stepped down from the platform and the crowd started to disperse.

"Wow," said Nevi as they left the room. "I didn't expect all that."

"What did you expect?" asked Torus. "More Clan History?"

"Yeah, maybe," she said sarcastically, "or maybe some actual information on foraging or patrolling or scouting or anything else we're supposed to want to do. How are we supposed to know what choice to make if they don't tell us anything about what those jobs actually do?"

"I don't know..." Torus's mind was full of all the things he had heard and he felt dizzy. "I just want to go home and eat something and think about it tomorrow."

Just then the big rat named Juke came up to them.

"Hey, is your name Chello?" He was still direct, but now he seemed strangely awkward.

"Uh, yeah," said Chello. "You heard him call me that, right?"

"Well, yeah. Yeah, I did." He blinked uncertainly. "Are you really going for Patrol?"

"I dunno..." said Chello evasively. "I haven't really decided."

"I think you should. I am. You should, too, because of what you said. I don't trust them either and we'll need rats on the Patrol that know what's really going on." He paused, but Chello didn't say anything and the silence stretched out uncomfortably. Juke looked down at his big front paws.

"Well, anyway, I think you should. We should talk about it." He turned to go. "Hey Nevi. Bye"

Nevi smiled.

"Bye, Juke. See you later."

Juke was already leaving and said "Okay," without turning his head at all.

Chello watched him leave and then turned to Nevi.

"Your friend's not exactly the deepest tunnel in the nest, is he..."

Nevi hit him in the shoulder.

"You stop it. He's a good rat. And at least he knows what direction he's going. Are you really thinking about Patrol? I thought you hated Dumash."

"Cheese! Why is everyone so interested in what I want to do with my life? I think Torus's idea of eating and thinking is a pretty good one. We don't have to decide until the end of the moon, so forget about me for a minute and worry about yourself." He stopped walking, sat up and announced to the empty tunnel: "I'm starving. Who wants to go to the alley and look for a snack?"

"We should really get home," Nevi said. "The forage is about to start."

"Pff! We'll be foraging ourselves in a few days. Going to the alley will be good practice."

"I don't know," said Torus, "I'm exhausted. I just want to get home and crash."

"Baby!" said Chello. "I'll bet there's ten pickles just sitting in a pile right next to the hole in the wall, and you'd leave them there to go home and eat yesterday's leftover garbage? Fine, then, there's more for us. Come on, Nevi."

As he turned to go Nevi laughed and said, "Sorry, Chello, I'm with Torus on this one. It's really too late."

"Suit yourself," said Chello wandering slowly away. "Don't come crying to me for pickles in the middle of the night, though."

"Not likely," said Torus. "Your problem is you've got no sense of reality."

"And your problem," said Nevi, "is you don't know when you're being followed. Hi, Mr. Nile."

"Hello, young ones," said Mr. Nile, shuffling up beside them. "I wasn't really following you, so much as simply going in the same direction as you."

Nevi smiled.

"How about 'Going in the same direction very very quietly and staying in the shadows'?"

"That's fair," said Mr. Nile, smiling. "You've got sharp ears and a sharp mind. In fact, I was following you. I was hoping to speak with Chello once you had all gone home and he had sneaked back out during the forage."

"What?" said Chello indignantly. "I would certainly never do such a thing."

"Of course not," said Mr. Nile, "and neither would Nevi or Torus, and yet here we are."

"What are you saying?" said Torus. "I've never snuck out late."

"Torus, forget it," said Nevi. "He knows all about the other night. Don't worry about it, okay?"

"Yes, I know all about the secret meeting the other night, and about two young rats that listened in. But that's off my point. As I said, I had been hoping to speak with Chello, but, after hearing the three of you talking, I think it might be wise to speak with all of you together."

"Okay," said Chello. "What's up?"

"Hm," said Mr. Nile. "Not here. You and I are not the only ones with secret places, Nevi. I think if you are willing to be home a little late we might go to my den. It's nearby, and no one spies on me there, at least not yet."

"I don't know," said Torus, "I really should get back home."

"Oh, it won't be long," said Mr. Nile. "I'll walk you back and if your father says anything I'll remind him what a young scoundrel he was when he was a pup. Come this way," he said turning down a small side tunnel. The three young rats waited a moment and then Chello spoke.

"Well, you heard him," he said with mock self-importance. "He mostly wants to talk to me, but if you two want to tag along, I guess that's okay."

"Sure, I guess," said Nevi, and the two of them set off after the old rat.

Torus's stomach was in knots. He felt like he should turn and run home as fast as he could, but at the same time he felt a little thrill of excitement. He tried to picture his father as a scoundrel, but all he could imagine was an angry face and an angrier voice, so he put it out of his mind and hurried after his friends into the tunnels.

* * *

Chapter Ten

Mr. Nile's den was small and clean and very warm.

"The human above me does lots of baking." Torus and the others responded with blank looks. "That's making bread or cake or cookies in an oven," he explained. "An oven is hot like the furnace, but it's small and humans use it to make food. They mix things together and put them in the oven and they come out food."

"Doesn't food come from stores and restaurants?" asked Chello. "That's what my dad says."

"Well, yes, of course it does, but many humans also make their own food in their homes. That's what kitchens are for. Not just where they store their food, but where they make different kinds of food."

"Oh," said Nevi. "I guess I never thought about it."

"And the oven is hot, so it makes my home warm. Pleasant."

"Do you have to forage, or is there enough food in your human's kitchen?"

"It's not 'my' human, it's just the human that lives over my home. And yes, I forage, but mostly from the human's kitchen. It's convenient and warm and don't think my human – the human here, I mean, I don't think it minds. I'm pretty sure it's seen _me,_ but I never find poison or traps, and it hasn't gotten a cat or a dog. It's been the same human as long as I've been here, ever since I came of age. I think we're used to one another after so many moons."

"So why is it so warm right now?" asked Chello. "Is your human breaking something in the ovum right now? Can we get some to eat?"

"No, Chello, she might be _baking_ something in the _oven_ , but we can't have any. We just enjoy the warmth while we talk."

"How do you know it's a 'she'?" asked Nevi. "Humans are so many different shapes, how can you tell?"

"Just practice, really. Careful observation. You'll get the hang of it, if you're interested enough to keep watching humans. And other creatures, too. There's a lot to learn from all the creatures that live around us."

"Even pigeons?" asked Chello, suspiciously. "Is that what you brought us here for? To tell us that the pigbirds are really our friends and we should learn from them? Forget it!"

"No, no, Chello," Mr. Nile said soothingly. "There is much we can learn from the birds, but that doesn't mean they are our friends. In fact, one must watch one's enemies even more closely than one's friends. The things you learn then might save your life." His expression was suddenly grim, and Torus, Nevi, and Chello watched him silently and waited for him to continue.

When he finally spoke again, his voice was low and intense.

"I don't fully understand what is happening with the Clan," he said. "I haven't been involved in the meetings. I have, in fact, been actively excluded from them, or conveniently neglected when the meetings are called. The meeting you saw, Nevi, was held while I was on the roof marking the moon. The Chief and his advisors knew very well I would be occupied, and yet they chose this time to invite the pigeons into our home. Most unsettling."

He sat for some moments in silence, and seemed lost in his thoughts. Finally, Nevi spoke up.

"So what should we do?"

"Do?" Mr. Nile looked up and seemed suddenly amused. "Well, in the broadest sense I suppose we'll do what we've always done. We will go on scavenging food from the humans and living in the gaps between their homes, you three will come of age and begin scavenging for yourselves and your families, I will go on watching the moon and gathering interesting things until I finally go into the darkness. Eventually your parents will go into darkness as well, and so will you, and your children's children. And the pigeons, too, and all the cats and dogs and the humans and their children's children as well, with more and more behind to take their places. I don't see any reason it won't go on like that forever."

"No doubt you're right," said Nevi patiently, "but I was thinking about the near future, and about right now, not about the cosmic scope of space and time."

Mr. Nile laughed aloud.

"Ha! You are a credit to your father, Miss Nevi, and you deserve a real answer." Nevi looked strangely uncomfortable. "And the real answer," he continued, "is 'I don't know.'"

"Then why are we here?" asked Chello impatiently. "Why did you bring us up here, where we're risking all kinds of trouble, if you didn't have anything real to tell us?"

Mr. Nile answered slowly, choosing his words carefully.

"I don't know exactly what's happening with the clan, as I said. Neither do any of you, nor your families. I doubt even the Chief and his advisors have a complete picture. The clan has a long history, and the way the clan is governed has changed over time, but the way things are happening now is all wrong. The leaders have never been so secretive, or so rash, and the clan as a whole seems unusually disinterested. When I was a pup, clan gatherings could last for days, with every rat having a say and arguing with his friends over the fine details of different plans, and at the end of it the clan would be united behind a single plan that everyone understood, even if he didn't agree with it in every detail. It was messy and slow, but it worked. Now, though, the Chief and his council meet quietly with known enemies and then announce new plans without the clan as a whole having any say at all. Why is the clan changing in this way? I can't find the answer." He paused again and looked at each of them in turn.

"There is too much going on and I'm moving more and more slowly. I can't be everywhere I want to be to learn what is happening. I would like...that is, I was hoping you three would be able to...you see..." He trailed off, apparently unable to find the right words.

"You want us to spy for you," said Chello. He clearly found the idea distasteful.

"Oh, no. No, no, no, certainly not," said Mr. Nile quickly. "Spying! Goodness no, I'd certainly not ask you to do anything like that." Chello seemed slightly mollified, but Torus thought he caught Mr. Nile winking slyly at Nevi.

"No," he continued, "I'm not asking you to do anything different than you normally do. Go about your business, come of age, choose a profession and go about that as well. Just pay attention to what goes on around you, what other rats are saying, how they feel about things. Then just come and visit me from time to time and we'll talk about it. That's all. Just talking."

"Or maybe gossiping?" said Chello. "How will that help?"

"I'm not sure it will," said Mr. Nile. "But it's better than nothing. It's been twenty moons since I went on patrol, and I wind up foraging on my own as often as not. So I don't hear much that goes on anymore. And you youngsters strike me as being different than most of your peers. More interested in what's going on around you, more interested in doing what's right than in simply staying out of trouble. You're inquisitive and resourceful and a little bit reckless, all admirable qualities."

Torus watched his friends. Chello was gazing steadily and skeptically at Mr. Nile and Nevi was suddenly very interested in the claws on her left front paw.

"Well," said Mr. Nile finally, "nothing has to be decided tonight. Go on home and think about what we've discussed. And if nothing else, if you're ever hungry, stop by for a snack. I can usually find something in the kitchen. Feel free to bring me chocolate any time, though. She never leaves any behind for me..."

And with that he motioned them to the entrance and out into the tunnel, then turned and went back into his home without another word.

"That," said Chello decisively, "is one weird old rat." Then he turned and started for home, with the others following.

"I think he's okay," said Nevi. "He wants what's good for the clan and he wants us to help. He's just got a funny way of expressing things."

"How can you tell?" retorted Chello. "He doesn't say anything that makes sense, he never comes to the point, he just talks around in circles and changes the subject and tries to manipulate rats into doing stuff when they don't even know what he's asking them to do!" He huffed along angrily in silence while Torus struggled to keep up without actually breaking into a trot.

"Well, you have to admit things are pretty strange around here lately," he panted.

"I don't know what to think," Chello snapped. "Between my mom complaining about my dad and Dumpish cornering me every time he sees me and pigbirds flying in and out of our building and now Mr. Crazy I don't have time to think any of my own thoughts at all." There was a tinge of desperation in his voice and Nevi reached out and touched his shoulder.

"Hey," she said, "slow down."

He flinched at her touch, but then turned to look at her and slowed his pace.

"It's okay," she said. "Things are crazy now, but that's just what Mr. Nile is talking about. Something is wrong with the Clan. No one knows what's going on or why, and everyone's too worried to do anything about it. He wants us to help him figure it out, and then maybe we can fix it. We can make things better."

They slowed to a stroll and then finally stopped, Chello staring at the floor between his paws.

"I don't want to fix it." His voice was flat. "I don't care about the Clan anymore. They let my father get torn apart by pigeons and then they let those same birds in here...I can't do that. I just need to take care of myself, come of age and then get out of my house, get out of the building..." He looked up at Nevi. "There's other buildings on the block, there's even the Park. I might go there...I don't know...I just don't think I can stay here with all this going on."

Torus was suddenly alarmed at the thought of losing his friend.

"But what about what Nevi and Mr. Nile said? What if we can fix it?"

"Pff!" tossed his head bitterly. "Fix it? Fix what? Something we don't know what it is or what's wrong with it? Look at us! We're just three pups from broken families in a broken clan. There's nothing left to fix!"

"Chello..." Nevi reached out to him and he pulled away.

"No, look," he said. "I'm coming of age at the next Moon, then I'm learning the forage routes and then I'm gone. I'm already gone!"

He turned and sprinted down the tunnel. Nevi called his name again, but he had already disappeared by the time the echo of her voice faded in the darkness.

* * *

Chapter Eleven

Torus came home to find his father trying to work his way into the harness of the sledge they had built earlier.

"Oh, there you are," he said. "Come here and give me a paw with this."

Torus helped get the straps arranged on his father's shoulders and made sure they were securely fastened to the frame of the sledge.

"You're getting home a little late aren't you?" asked his father once the straps were all in place.

"Yeah," Torus muttered. "The, uh, gathering went a little long, and..." He trailed off.

"Well, at least you got here before I left," said his father. "The pups have eaten, but they'll be hungry again soon enough, so go ahead and pull something out later. Have you eaten?"

Torus was shocked at his father's casual attitude. He shook his head No.

"Well, get yourself something, too, then. Make some room in the nook for all the food I'm going to bring back tonight!" He was clearly excited about using his new contraption.

"Do you think it'll work okay?" asked Torus, pointing at the sledge.

"It should," said his father. "It's pretty sturdy, really. At least it held up to pulling the pups around the house."

"Okay, well, good luck tonight, then," said Torus.

"Thanks, son. I don't know how long it'll take me to fill it up. Put the little ones to bed and then you can go to sleep, too, if you want."

"No, I'll stay up. I want to hear about how it works."

"Okay, then. Save some cookies for me and we'll talk when I get back."

With that his father turned and pulled the sledge out of the den. He struggled a little getting it through the entrance, but once he was in the main tunnel he headed off at a brisk pace and was soon out of sight.

Torus spent the rest of the evening trying to keep the pups occupied and out of trouble. Once he got them fed and into bed, and then fed again and back into bed again he felt exhausted, but his mind was racing too fast to sleep. He found a piece of string and some small sticks left over from the sledge and started building little structures and then taking them apart aimlessly. He built a little three-legged object with a fourth stick that stood up straight into the air, then he made a star-shape that hung from the end of the string. He was working on tying all the sticks together into one long stick when he heard the sound of a heavy object being dragged outside the entrance to the den.

He went out and found his father straining to pull the sledge. He was out of breath, but managed to greet Torus.

"Hi there. Get behind and push, would you?"

Torus nodded and went to the rear of the sledge to help get it into the den. It was only about two thirds full, but he noticed one of the runners was bent and partly broken, which made it hard to maneuver. When they got inside, he helped his father out of the straps and asked, "How did it work?"

"Except for breaking halfway home? It worked great. We need to find a way to fix that runner, and then we'll have no problem getting enough food into the house."

Torus went to the sledge and pulled off the damp paper towel his father had used to cover the load.

"Wow, this is great," he said. "This is like a week's worth of food here!"

"Yes, I guess it's about that. It would have taken me three or four trips with my old bag. Hand me that baggie there."

Torus handed him a plastic baggie filled with the un-eaten crusts of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and his father opened it and divided the crusts between them.

"So," he said, as they settled back to eat. "Tell me about your gathering."

"Oh, it was okay, I guess. It was all about coming of age and stuff."

"Oh really? I guess that is coming up sometime."

"Yeah, Councilor Nogolo said it's at the next moon. When is that?"

"Hmm..." said his father thoughtfully. "Five days. Five or six. I'm not sure. I'll ask Nile the next time I see him."

"Wow, that's pretty soon," said Torus.

"Well, don't get too excited yet. A lot can happen in five days." His father yawned hugely. "Five or six days...I'm exhausted. Let's leave this until tomorrow and go to sleep."

He got up and shuffled toward the bed where the pups lay in a furry pile. He lay down and stretched and then fell asleep in the middle of a yawn.

Torus followed him to the bed, but he wasn't able to quiet his thoughts enough to drift off. He lay awake a long time listening to the mixed breathing of his family and thinking about ways to fix the broken runner on the sledge.

The next morning he was awakened by the sound of struggling and looked over from the bed to see his father trying to hold Moki down for his morning grooming.

"Stop it! Stop it! Lemme alone, I can groom myself!" Moki squealed.

" _You_ stop it!" said his father sharply. "You're just making it worse!"

Torus slid off the bed and called out to them.

"Do you need some help?"

"Yes!" said his father.

"No, me!" said Moki. "I need help!" He wriggled free of his father's grasp and scampered across the room, his fur sticking every which way.

"Fine then," said his father. "Groom yourself, then. Good luck with it." He scowled and turned away rubbing his shoulder and rotating his arm gingerly.

"Is your arm okay?" asked Torus.

"What? Oh, yeah, it's just a little sore from last night I guess."

"I have an idea how to fix the runner," said Torus. "We can take some string and tie on a new runner on the struts and –"

His father cut him off.

"Let's think about that later, okay?" He winced as he walked over to the food nook. "I don't feel like working on it right now. Later."

Torus was confused by his father's mood.

"Okay, sure. Do you want me to put this food away now?"

His father looked up and blinked as if he had been thinking about something else.

"What? Oh, sure, that would be great. Thanks." He took a piece of stale pastry out of the food nook and took it over to where Shona and Nosha were waiting on the bed. He divided it between them and they nibbled at it carefully while he groomed them. Shona sat still and quiet, but Nosha giggled when he checked between their toes.

"Stop it," he said, scowling. Then she sat holding her breath with her eyes squinched shut tight.

Torus set to work emptying the sledge. The pile of food didn't look as big as it had the night before, but it was still enough to almost fill the newly enlarged food nook. It was the usual mix of leftover scraps of human food, and Torus guessed his father had spent most of his efforts at the dumpster in the park.

"Hey dad," he called. "How does it work, exactly? After I come of age do I come with you foraging or what?"

His father released Nosha from his grasp and sat on the bed thoughtfully.

"Well, that depends," he said.

Torus waited as long as he could, and then said, "Depends on what?"

"A lot of things," his father replied. "Your family's needs, for example. Maybe a family already has enough foragers so a young rat might do something else instead. Or it can depend on what your profession is. It might be more important to the clan that you patrol or scout or something and so you would do that and other rats would forage in your place."

"How do you get a profession?"

His father lifted himself off the bed and shuffled across the floor toward the food nook, still limping a little on one front paw.

"You pick one at the coming of age ceremony."

"How does that work?"

"Why? Do you know what you want to pick?"

Torus paused and looked at the empty hot-dog wrapper in his paws.

"Not really..."

His father suddenly seemed impatient.

"Well, you'd probably better think about it," he said. "If you don't have one picked out then they pick one for you and you wind up being a forage porter or you get stuck cleaning tunnels or running messages for the leaders."

"Is that bad?" Torus asked.

"Well it's not great," replied his father. "You can do a lot better for your family than spend all day telling the Scouts what the Chief wants for breakfast..." He scowled darkly.

Torus was silent for a moment, and then spoke again.

"So how does it work, then? How do you choose something?"

"Well, you go up when they call you, and they have you state your name and family, and you pledge your loyalty to the clan and then they ask you what you choose to do in the clan's service. Didn't they go over all this at your gathering?"

Torus looked at the ground and mumbled.

"I dunno. I guess so, maybe. It was hard to pay attention..."

"You'd better work on paying attention if you want to get anywhere, son," said his father sharply. It won't do you any good to get up there and say 'I dunno,' when they ask for your Clan loyalty, and 'I dunno,' for your profession." His voice became a mocking slur. "'I dunno if I'm loyal to the clan, I dunno what I wanna do, I guess I'll just end up wandering around cleaning up after other rats and sweeping scat out of the gathering place.'" His ears stood up straight and his whiskers began to tremble.

"You'd better pull you tail out of the trap, Torus! You've got to have something better than that when the ceremony comes."

He paused and stared at Torus, breathing heavily. Torus stood uncomfortably next to the empty sledge, staring at his paws. His ears were hot. Finally his father relaxed his gaze and turned away.

"I don't know," he said. He sounded tired and disappointed. "Maybe you're not ready."

"What?!" Torus's shame was lost in a flood of shocked anger.

"Maybe we should wait until the next moon, to – "

"But – " Torus tried to interrupt, but his father raised his voice and shouted him down.

" – to give you time to figure things out."

"But that's not fair!" yelled Torus.

"It's not about fair," said his father. "It's about survival. Young rats that go out into the world before they're ready get _killed_ , Torus."

There was a note of desperation in his father's voice, but Torus was too overwhelmed by his own anger to notice.

"That stinks!" he cried. "That stinks like scat!"

"Hey! You watch your tongue, mister!"

Torus turned and bolted out of the den, ignoring his father's shouts, and ran down the tunnel away from his home as fast and as far as his legs could carry him until he collapsed in a heap in a dark corner far away from his normal haunts. He sat panting raggedly, staring fiercely into the darkness until his eyes finally welled over and he buried his face in his paws.

After what seemed like an hour he felt drained and hollow. He dragged himself up and went looking for Nevi. She wasn't at home, but he found her nearby, walking toward the back of the building. She seemed surprised to see him.

"Oh, hi," she said.

He mumbled noncommittally.

She looked at him closely.

"Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah, just great," he said. He looked around for something to say. "Where're you going?" he asked finally.

"Nowhere," she smiled wryly. "Do you want to come?"

Torus shrugged, but when she started off again he joined her, walking beside her as she turned this way and that, working her way through the little-used passages she seemed to know so well.

Torus finally started talking awkwardly.

"So, have you seen Chello?"

Nevi shook her head but didn't say anything.

"Do you think he'll really leave the clan? You know, after the...the coming..." he couldn't make himself complete the phrase and trailed off into silence.

Nevi stared straight ahead.

"After the coming of age ceremony? I don't know. Some rats do leave," she said darkly.

They went on for a while in silence, but Torus's head was swimming with confused thoughts, so he finally spoke again.

"So, what...what profession do you think you'll choose at the...thing?"

Nevi glanced at him sharply and then looked ahead again.

"Who cares?" she said, picking up the pace. They walked on for a short time, Torus trotting for a few steps to keep up. Then Nevi spoke again.

"Who cares about any of it? Coming of age is a joke for females, anyway. Nothing changes for us. We just wind up foraging and cleaning until it's time for us to have pups. We can't do anything real!"

"Why not?" asked Torus.

"Because we just _don't_ ," she snapped. "How many female Scouts are there? How many on Patrol? How many in the chief's circle? None! Exactly zero! It doesn't matter how much you know about the tunnels or how well you can fight. If you're a girl you just get to keep cleaning the dens until it's time to clean your own den for the rest of your life."

Torus was surprised to discover he had never thought about it.

"That doesn't seem fair," he said, half to himself.

Nevi rolled her eyes.

"Fair!" she said bitterly. "It's got nothing to do with Fair! It's just 'the way things are.' It stinks! The whole thing stinks and I wish it wasn't even happening."

"Yeah, tell me about it," he muttered. They walked the rest of the way to the alley in silence and spent the afternoon poking around aimlessly in the trash that littered the broken pavement.

Torus spent the next few days trying not to think about it, but unable to think about anything else. He helped take care of the pups and with cleaning the den. He helped his father fix the broken sledge and helped store the food he brought home on it. Through it all, the one thought in his mind was whether he would be allowed to participate in the approaching ceremony.

He avoided asking his father about it, but whatever he did say, he felt the question was lurking behind his words. And no matter what his father said to him, he could feel the answer underneath, and the answer was always the same.

Late one evening, when his father returned from foraging with a full load on the sledge, Torus asked him how the sledge was working now with the new runner.

"Great," his father said. "With this I can get us plenty of food with no problem, and even give some extra to the Clan stores."

But what Torus heard was, "Great, with this sledge I can do all the foraging myself and we don't need you to come of age so you can help. You stay home and take care of the pups forever!"

He saw Chello only once, briefly, during all the days leading up to the ceremony. He was walking through the tunnels, thinking about going to the dumpsters when Chello came around the corner and walked toward him.

"Hey, Chello," said Torus happily. "Where've you been? You going somewhere?"

Chello looked at him and shook his head awkwardly.

"Yeah, I'm kinda going somewhere. I've been busy with stuff...you know..."

"What kind of stuff? Getting ready for the...the thing? Have you decided on a profession?"

"No, not really. I'm not sure I'm going through with it, you know? I'm just busy with other stuff going on. No big deal. I've got to go, though. See you later, okay?"

Then he hurried off down the tunnel and disappeared.

"Okay, sure," said Torus. He didn't know what to think about his friend. He thought about going to find Nevi and see what she thought, but she was spending all her time in her secret "places" tearing paper into tiny pieces and complaining about all the good professions being taken.

Finally, on the day before the ceremony he decided to go talk to Mr. Nile about it. He took a small piece of chocolate candy and went to the cozy den on the second floor. Mr. Nile wasn't home, however, so Torus decided to wait. He waited long enough to decide to eat the chocolate himself, and Mr. Nile came up the tunnel just as Torus was cleaning his whiskers.

"Well, hello, Torus," said the old rat. "Would you like to come in for a snack?"

"Uh, no, thanks," said Torus. "I just came to...because, there's the...how do..."

"Come inside before you hurt yourself," said Mr. Nile gently. He guided Torus into the den, sat him down on a small cushion and handed him a pretzel. "Now," he said, "what are you trying to say?"

Something about the old rat's tone of voice unleashed all the tangled thoughts in Torus's mind.

"What do I do about the coming of age ceremony? My dad thinks I'm not old enough and wants me to wait for the next moon, but that's not fair because I'm old enough to come of age _now_. And Chello isn't around anywhere and I don't know what he's going to do or what profession I should choose, and my dad's all goofy about that, too, like he doesn't want me to just be a forager or whatever. Or _whatever_. And Nevi's just hiding out in her own world and doesn't talk to anyone, and the whole thing with the pigeons has everyone tense, but no one's talking about it and I don't even _see_ anybody anymore."

Mr. Nile took a thoughtful bite of his own pretzel and chewed slowly.

"What do you enjoy doing?" he asked finally.

"What? What do you mean?"

"You should choose a profession based on what you enjoy doing."

"I don't know...I..." Torus stammered to a halt.

"Even at a very simple level, tell me what you like. Do you like to run fast? Do you like to sleep? Do you like wrestling? Eating cookies? You can't know what you want to do until you know who you are, and what you enjoy is a huge part of that."

"Well...I like pickles, I guess, and playing with my brother and sisters..."

"Then find a profession that helps you do those things. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go up and mark the moon. Tomorrow is the new moon, but I always have to double check just to be sure."

He gave Torus another pretzel and escorted him out of the den and back to the main tunnel. Then Torus headed for home and Mr. Nile turned toward the network of tunnels that led ultimately to the roof of the building, more than twice as high as Torus had ever ventured.

When he got home he broke the pretzel into pieces and gave some to the pups.

"Yay!" said Moki. "Salty crunchy!"

His father was still there, too, puttering with the sledge.

"Do you want a piece of pretzel before you head out?" Torus asked him.

"No, no thanks. You and the pups have it. I don't think I'm going out tonight anyway. We have plenty of food and I'd like to work on the sledge a little bit."

"Oh, okay. Can I help?"

"Sure," said his father. "I guess you didn't cause too many problems last time, so why not?"

Torus tried to smile, but he wasn't in the mood for his father's teasing. He wanted to ask about the ceremony but he didn't know how to bring it up, so instead he said, "Okay, do we need any supplies? I could run down to the alley for stuff if you want."

"No, I think we have everything we need here. Except maybe a sense of humor."

Torus rolled his eyes and went over to the sledge. His father was working on the harness system, adjusting the straps and trying to get them to fit better.

"I have to pull too hard when it's full and the straps cut into my shoulders," he explained.

"Why don't you put some padding on them?" asked Torus. "You could wrap pieces of soft cloth or cotton balls around the straps and then they wouldn't be so skinny."

His father looked surprised at the idea.

"That's a pretty good idea," he said. "How would we get them to stay in place?"

"I don't know, maybe some tape? Or tie them on with string somehow?" Torus looked down at the runners. "Hey, look!" he exclaimed. "The front of the runners are square. So when the sledge is full they dig into the ground. I'll bet if we curved them up it would work better."

"What do you mean? I don't understand."

"I can do it," Torus said. "Here, help me flip it over so I can work on them." He picked up one side of the sledge and lifted it up. His father started to pick up the other side. "No, no, this side," said Torus. "I want it upside down for a minute."

"Oh, I see," said his father uncertainly. He came around the sledge and joined Torus in lifting the sledge and turning it onto its top.

"Careful!" he said. "Careful, careful! It'll get crunched!"

"No," said Torus. "It won't crunch, we reinforced the sides, remember?"

"Okay," said his father. "If you say so."

Torus didn't respond. Using his sharp teeth he started rounding the square corners on the front end of the runners. After a few minutes his father said, "What are you doing?"

Torus stopped to pull a splinter of wood from between his teeth.

"You'll see when I'm done. Why don't you work on the pads for the straps? I think there's some squishy cloth you could take out of the bed if the pups don't see you."

His father nodded uneasily and turned away. Torus continued nibbling on the runners until the front ends tapered in smooth curves. Then he carefully rounded the square edges along the lengths of the runners and smoothed any uneven spots. His father was working on the straps again and looked up occasionally to see Torus's progress. Each time he looked away again with the same puzzled expression.

Finally, Torus felt the runners were ready.

"Okay, we can turn it back over again," he said. Once the sledge was righted he pulled on the straps of the harness to test the runners. They slid easily across the rough floor of the den.

"Oh!" exclaimed his father. "Now I see what you mean. That's great!"

Torus pulled the straps to one side and the sledge pivoted easily. "See, it'll turn easier now, too."

"Let me try!" His father slipped the harness over his shoulders and gave a pull. "Wow!" he said. "This is incredible! How did you think of that thing with the runners?"

"I don't know," Torus shrugged. "It just seemed to make sense..."

"Well, all right," said his father, happily pulling the sledge this way and that. "Hey kids! Pups! Come and help us test the new and improved sledge!" The pups came running out of the back room and jumped onto the box that sat on the runners. His father strained a little to start out, but once he was moving it slid easily over the floor.

"This is really good, Torus," he said. "This will be much easier. Thanks for your help."

"No problem," said Torus. "Hey, Dad?"

"Watch out!" His father crashed past at a trot with the pups teetering and laughing in the box behind him. "Coming through!"

"So, Dad, you know the coming of age ceremony is tomorrow, right?"

"Yes? And?"

"So...can I go?" Torus's stomach was in a knot and he held his breath, waiting for his father to lash out at him.

But instead he simply turned the sledge around and came barreling back.

"Of course you can. We're all going. Watch out!"

Torus dodged to the side and stared perplexed at his father.

"Oh...okay. Because I thought...from the other night..."

His father came to a stop and collapsed.

"Oh, that? No, that was just me in a bad mood. There's no problem with going to the ceremony. You come of age when you come of age, after all, whether you're ready or not. If you not ready, I guess you'll get ready in a hurry like everyone else."

"More ride!" shouted the pups. "Pull us more!"

"Oh, I'm ready, I guess," said Torus. He didn't know whether to be relieved or nervous or angry with his father for the past five days of anxiety.

"Sure you are," said his father. He didn't sound like he was teasing, but Torus was never sure.

"More ride! More ride!" the pups continued.

"No, I can't," said his father. "I'm beat."

"I could pull them a little," offered Torus. "Do you think the straps will fit me?"

"Yaaarrrgh!" His father stretched and yawned hugely. "Be my guest," he said, shrugging off the straps. "Don't wreck it."

"I won't," said Torus.

"Yay, Torus!" shouted the pups.

After another half hour of racing back and forth across the den the sledge only needed minor repairs before everyone shared a half an orange and collapsed in a pile on the bed.

* * *

Chapter Twelve

Torus slept restlessly, and woke up early while the rest of the family still slept. He got up quietly and went to the middle of the room. He stood silently and listed carefully to the sounds of the sleeping building. He could hear the soft hum of human appliances in the apartment above him, but no humans moving or talking. Far away he could hear the sound of water running in pipes. He didn't hear any rat activity from his neighbors, but at the very limits of his hearing there was the tiny scratching sound of a mouse gnawing a wooden baseboard. Then the scratching stopped suddenly and there was the sound of tiny feet scampering away.

Torus stood for a long time, listening to the stillness. He imagined he was drawing the silence in and filling himself with its emptiness. Then he imagined he was dissolving out into the silence like smoke until there was nothing left of him but a rat-shaped space in the larger space that was the den. Then he decided he was hungry and went to look for something in the food nook.

He was just finishing a snack of bread crust when his father woke up, rolled over off the bed and ambled over. He scowled at Torus groggily and scratched his stomach.

"You're up early," he said.

"Yeah. I couldn't sleep."

"Huh," his father grunted. "Did you leave me anything to eat?"

"Nope, this is it," said Torus, popping the last of the crust into his mouth.

His father grunted again and shuffled over to the nook, coming back with a lump of some indefinite human food. He sat down next to Torus and held the lump in his paws and stared straight ahead at the wall. He sat for a long moment without moving and Torus had to check to see if he was still breathing. Finally he yawned an enormous yawn and took a bite of his food.

"What time is your ceremony?" he asked with his mouth full.

"I don't know..." said Torus. "How would I find out?"

"They might have said something at the meeting last week. Do you remember if they did?"

Torus shook his head.

"No, I could barely stay awake while Nogolo was talking. It was almost like he didn't want us to think about it too much so he was making it as boring as possible."

"Well, I guess we'll figure it out when everyone starts gathering. Isn't your friend Nevi going, too?"

Torus nodded.

"Her mother always knows what's going on. We'll follow them."

All the calm silence that had filled Torus earlier was gone, replaced by a combination of fluttering nervousness and heavy dread. He was suddenly aware of his breakfast in his stomach like a cold stone.

"I don't know what profession to choose," he said suddenly.

His father glanced over at him and took another bite of his lump of food.

"Don't worry about it," he said. "I didn't either, and it came out all right in the end."

"You didn't?" Torus asked, surprised.

"Well, not exactly. I knew I wanted to get out of the building sometimes, so when they asked me at the ceremony I said 'Undecided, but I want to work outside sometimes,' and so they made me a scrap gatherer. It's not glamorous, but it helps the clan. Plus I don't really have anyone bossing me around like I would on the tunnel team, or something like that."

"Did you just answer that way on impulse, or did someone tell you to?"

His father smiled.

"It's hard to say. I didn't know what I wanted to do so I went and talked to Nile and he said 'What do you like to do?' It didn't seem like it was much help at the time, but, like I said, it all worked out in the end. Why do you ask?"

"He said the same thing to me," said Torus. "I told him I like pickles..."

There was a moment of silence, then both Torus and his father burst out laughing.

Torus became increasingly nervous as the day wore on. His father had finally found out from Nevi's mother that the ceremony was in the afternoon before the human children returned. No one knew where they went every day, but they came back at about the same time most days and that was a time to be especially cautious since the children of humans had sharper eyes than the adults. But, as his father pointed out, there was less of a problem in their building than in other buildings, since there were so few children there.

"But then how do we know when to go?" asked Torus. "What if we miss it?"

"I know when to go," said his father. "Don't worry. Go eat something if you're nervous."

It seemed to Torus that they waited forever to leave, and once they were finally on their way the short trip to the gathering place took twice as long as it should. It was the pups' first trip so far from the den. The girls kept getting distracted by new sights while Moki kept running ahead and taking wrong turns so they had to wait and call him back. A few other families passed them on their way and Torus was sure the whole thing would be over by the time they got there.

Finally, though, they came to the big room at the back of the building. The crowd was small compared to most gatherings, and Torus and his family were almost the last to arrive. He saw Nevi and her mother near the front of the crowd and he waved to her. Juke was in the middle of the group, sitting with two other huge rats Torus assumed were his parents. He looked around the room but didn't see Chello at all. He tried to get Nevi's attention to ask her if she'd seen him, but she was looking the other way.

Finally, as Torus and his father herded the pups into a spot near the far wall, he glanced up and saw Chello come in. He came in alone, and his expression was unusually stern. Torus waved and tried to catch his eye, but Chello just plopped down in the nearest available spot and stared straight ahead.

At the front of the room, Nogolo and the Dinnick climbed up on the platform and waved the crowd to silence. As the noise subsided the Chief came in and looked around the room, smiling gently at the rats assembled there. Nogolo hopped off the platform and took the chief by the arm, guiding him onto the platform and to a spot on the side. The silence in the room had become uncomfortable and tense. Nogolo moved to the front of the platform and raised his arms.

"My friends, you all know why we are here."

Torus felt his mind begin to cloud over as it always did when any of the leaders started talking, but he struggled to shake it free. He was determined to pay attention and not miss anything this time.

"Our Mr. Nile has marked the new moon, but this is not just another moon for the families gathered here today. Today an even dozen and a half young rats have passed their tenth moon and are ready to come of age as full members of the Clan." Nogolo paused and the crowd cheered, some more enthusiastically than others.

"I had prepared some remarks for this occasion," Nogolo continued, "but why wait? These young rats have waited long enough, I think." The crowd responded with more evenly enthusiastic cheers. "Let me just say this. The change we mark today is important, certainly, but largely symbolic. After this afternoon, you will still be the same rats you were this morning. You have been growing toward this moment all you lives, and you will continue to grow in the moons to come. You will not be suddenly stronger or faster, or ready to start a family, nor will you suddenly give up the youthful things that have occupied you to this time.

"What is changing is your place in the Clan. Up to this point you have been wards of the Clan, under its care as you are under the care of your families. As of today, you are full members and participants in the Clan. You will still enjoy its care and protection, but you will be expected to contribute to that care in ways that you have not before. Think hard about that. The Clan is only as strong as the bonds between its members, and those bonds are forged by shared effort and common goals. The rats that work together thrive together!"

Torus' father leaned over and whispered in his ear.

"This speech hasn't changed since I came of age twenty moons ago!"

"But enough talk!" cried Nogolo. "Let's move forward! Mr. Nile, do you have the names?"

Mr. Nile shuffled up and climbed slowly onto the platform. He took his spot next to the advisors and spoke softly to them. Then Dinnick stepped forward and called out loudly.

"Arkon, son of Jokon, of the Fourth Floor. Come forward!"

A slim rat with a worried face stepped up to the front of the platform and looked up at the old rats gathered there. Then Nogolo spoke.

"Arkon, do you come here today by your own will?" The young rat nodded barely perceptibly, and Mr. Nile said, "You have to speak, son."

"Okay. Yes." Said Arkon, his voice shaking a little.

"Good," said Nogolo, smiling. "Do you pledge your loyalty to the Rats of the Acme Apartment Hotel, and to the leaders of the clan?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And how will you serve the Clan?" Arkon looked confused, so Nogolo continued. "What profession would you choose to support the Clan?"

"Oh, okay. Um, the tunnels, please. I'd like to help build tunnels."

"Very well, we will consider it." Nogolo, Dinnick, and Mr. Nile all retreated to the back of the platform where the Chief sat waiting. They spoke quietly among themselves for a moment, then returned to the front and faced the crowd.

"Jeffon, Tunnel Crew Leader! Will you accept Arkon as a new member of the Tunnel Crew?"

"I will!" said a lean, dark-furred rat near the far wall, and the crowd cheered.

"Congratulations!" said Dinnick. "You may return to your place." Arkon turned and went quickly back to his place, visibly relieved.

Torus had a sudden thrill of anxiety. He didn't know what to choose for a profession, and the thought of saying "I don't know...I like pickles..." sounded just too ridiculous. He watched uneasily as a rat he didn't know got accepted into the Patrol, and then a female from his tunnel was called up.

When she was asked for a profession she said "Undecided," very quietly, and Nogolo looked down smiling at her. Without consulting the others on the platform he said, "Nothing is more important to the health of the Clan than a clean home. Will you join the tunnel cleaning detail?"

She shrugged and looked down.

"Sure," she said. Torus found Nevi in the crowd and her eyes were burning.

"Anaka, will you accept Luzi to the Tunnel Cleaning Detail?" called Nogolo.

"Yes I will!" said Nevi's mother clearly. Torus only had time to be surprised for a moment because just after that Dinnick called out, "Torus, son of Nolki, of the First Floor. Come forward!"

He sat still for a moment and his father nudged him with an elbow. Nosha whispered "Yay, Torus," and waved at him as he walked toward the platform. He tried to catch Chello's eye as he passed him, but his friend stared stonily ahead. Nevi was engaged in a whispered argument with her mother and didn't look up, so by the time he reached the front, Torus felt very small and alone.

"Torus, do you come here today of your own will?"

Torus nodded, then remembered he was supposed to speak.

"Yes, sir, I do."

"And do you pledge your loyalty to the Rats of the Acme Apartment Hotel, and the leaders of the Clan?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent! And how will you serve the Clan, Torus?"

"Um...undecided?" He knew that was the wrong answer. He could feel his father's disappointment on the back of his neck. He knew he was about to be assigned to the cleaning crew, or to some other meaningless team, but he didn't know what else to say."

"Very well, then. I think we can find room for you on the clean–"

"Wait!" Torus was struck by a sudden thought. Nogolo looked down at him, startled at being interrupted.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I, umm, I like building things. And fixing things. Is there a profession where I can do that?"

Nogolo seemed at a loss for words. Dinnick looked bored, like he was hardly paying attention, but Mr. Nile was gazing at him intently, as if he hadn't seen him clearly before. Finally Nogolo spoke.

"Well, Torus, usually rats build the things they need for themselves. And we're careful not to build too much so we don't attract the humans' attention. There's not a thing-building profession, exactly."

He stopped and gazed at Torus with a puzzled expression on his face. He was about to speak when Mr. Nile stepped up and began whispering in his ear. After a few moments, Nogolo's expression relaxed and he said, "Yes, I think that will work." Turning back to Torus he said, "Torus, we think the Tunnel crew is the best place for you, but when you are not engaged in a project with them, you can work building things for Mr. Nile and other, um, senior rats that may have difficulty building things for themselves. How does that sound?"

The idea had come so quickly that it hadn't really settled into Torus' mind, but he said, "I guess it sounds pretty good."

"Very good!" cried Nogolo. "Jeffon, if you agree...?"

"I do," said the tunnel crew leader without enthusiasm.

"Then Torus, son of Nolki, Congratulations! You may return to your place."

Torus turned and went back to where his father and the pups were waiting. He tried to keep a slow pace, but he was so relieved to have the ordeal over he could barely keep from running.

"Well done, son!" whispered his father.

"Thanks," Torus whispered back.

"That's stroke of luck, Nile speaking up for you."

"What do you mean?"

His father motioned him to silence, raising a claw to his lips.

"I'll tell you later. Shh."

Torus watched while a few other young rats took their turns going to the front. There were some he knew only by sight, and others he didn't know at all. He was a little surprised to learn there were so many rats his age he had never met before. He was looking around the room to see how many faces he actually recognized when he heard Dinnick call out.

"Nevi, daughter of Anaka, of the First Floor. Come forward!"

Nevi got up and walked unhesitatingly to the front. When she got to the front her back was to Torus and he couldn't see her face, but he could tell by the way her tail twitched that she was angry.

"Nevi, do you come here today of your own will?" asked Nogolo, smiling.

"Of course," she said.

Nogolo's smile faded a tiny bit.

"And do you pledge your loyalty to the Rats of the Acme Apartment Hotel, and the leaders of the Clan?"

"I will gladly pledge loyalty to the clan of my birth," she said, her voice clear and strong. "And its worthy leaders," she added, with just the slightest emphasis on the word 'worthy.'

Nogolo's smile faded completely and was replaced by a slightly puzzled, concerned expression.

"Good," he said. "Very good. Nevi, what profession do you choose to serve the Clan?"

There was a short pause. To Torus it looked like Nevi was drawing a deep breath and trying to keep calm. Then she spoke, and her voice rang like a bell in the silent room.

"Scout," she said. "I want to be a Scout." She stared straight at Nogolo, challenging him.

The stunned silence in the room was quickly replaced with a tense murmur of disbelief and incredulity. The look in Nogolo's eyes was one of tightly controlled panic.

"But my dear," he said, "it's...unusual for a...that is, Scouting is the most...dangerous profession and..."

"I know every tunnel in this building," said Nevi, interrupting him. "I'm fast and silent on my feet, my eyes and ears are as sharp as anyone's. And I can fight, if I have to. Ask anyone."

Torus glanced at Chello, who was staring at his feet with his tail twitching.

"One moment," stammered Nogolo, and he turned quickly to the back of the platform and huddled with the other leaders there. There was an animated discussion among them, but Torus couldn't hear any of it above the rising murmur of the crowd. He glanced at his father who was watching the advisors with an uninterpretable scowl on his face. The pups had lost interest and were wrestling in a pile on the floor. The tension in the air made Torus uncomfortable and the pups' playing irritated him.

"Stop it! Stop it!" he hissed. They stopped and Nosha pouted and looked at him reproachfully.

"This is boring," said Moki. "I'm hot."

Nogolo came back up to the front of the platform, joined by Mr. Nile. The crowd gradually quieted down, and Nogolo spoke.

"Nevi, to be a Scout..." He trailed off and looked to Mr. Nile for help.

"Scouting is an honorable and crucial profession," said Mr. Nile. "It is also risky and difficult. If you choose this path, Nevi, there will come times when you have no one to rely upon but yourself. Are you prepared for that?"

"Yes, sir, I am," she said.

"Then I for one see no reason not to recommend you for this profession," he said, with a note of pride in his voice. "Nogolo, will you continue?"

"Yes, of course," said Nogolo. "Hakan, Scout leader, will you...will you accept Nevi as a Scout in your squad?"

Scout Leader Hakan stood up and walked slowly to where Nevi was standing. He was small and slight for a grown male, not much bigger than Nevi herself. He cocked his head to one side and squinted at her.

"Will you follow orders?" he asked, "even if it means risking being seen by the humans?"

"I will," she said.

He paused, then spoke again.

"You have good nerves," he said. "You are too reckless, but that can be un-learned." He turned and walked back to his place and continued speaking without looking back. "Yes, Nogolo. I accept this young rat in my squad."

Nogolo sagged visibly.

"Very well then. Back to your seat, Nevi," he said. "Congratulations," he added, almost as an afterthought.

After that, Torus could no longer pay close attention and he started playing surreptitiously with the pups. Young rats continued to be called up for their part in the ceremony, but only a couple captured his notice.

Nevi's big friend Juke was enthusiastically accepted into the Patrol by Dumash, and a female, who he didn't know, when asked her chosen profession, said "Cleaning tunnels or Forage Porter is fine for me, thanks!" with a contemptuous glance at Nevi.

By that time, Torus was almost as restless as the pups and his father was on the verge of dragging them all out by their tails. Torus tried to make Moki calm down by sitting on him when he heard, "Chello, son of...of Chello, of the First Floor. Come forward!"

Chello got up and ambled to the front of the room.

"Chello, do you come here of your own will?"

"Sure," he said.

"And do you pledge your loyalty to the Rats of the Acme-"

"Yes, sir. Yes I do. Absolutely," Chello interrupted.

"The Acme Apartment Hotel," finished Nogolo resolutely. "And how will you serve the Clan?"

"I dunno, Patrol I guess," said Chello.

"Patrol, you guess?" said Dinnick. "Do you think you've got what it takes? There are things in your, ah, background that might suggest otherwise."

"Why don't you ask Dump- Dumash?" said Chello hotly. "He's been on me about it for two whole moons."

"Exactly," said Nogolo, resting a calming paw on Dinnick's arm. "Patrol Commander Dumash, are you willing to take this young rat into your Patrol and teach him to use his strengths in the service of the Clan?"

"Oh, yes," called Dumash from the back of the room. "We're very excited to have him join us and – "

"Good, very good," said Nogolo, waving Dumash to silence. "Now we're – congratulations Chello, back to your seat – Now we're at the end – what?" He leaned toward Dinnick who whispered in his ear. "Oh, yes, of course. Carry on."

"Finnick, of the Fourth Floor. Come forward!" called Dinnick

A tall rat with dark, glossy fur stepped forward.

"Finnick, do you come here today of your own will?"

"Yes, I do," he replied in a booming voice.

"And do you pledge your loyalty to the Clan and its leaders?"

"You know I do, sir,"

"And how will you serve the Clan, Finnick?"

"I feel I can best serve the Clan by service to the Executive Council. I'd like to join the administrative team, if the leaders see fit."

"Very good," said Nogolo, and the leaders gathered a final time at the back of the platform. Their conversation was subdued and short, and they returned quickly to the front.

Torus's father snorted quietly and rolled his eyes.

"What is it?" asked Torus.

"That's Dinnick's son," replied his father. "The leader's circle always brings their own in, and they _only_ bring their own in."

"That stinks," said Torus.

"That's life," said his father, resignedly.

"Young Finnick," said Nogolo, "on behalf of the Administrative Team we are happy to welcome you. Congratulations!"

There was half-hearted applause from the audience as Finnick returned happily to his place.

Torus' father leaned toward him.

"You should try getting to know Finnick," he whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"It's like I said about Nile. It's good luck to have the leaders speak up for you. Nile's not exactly a leader, but he's well respected by the whole clan. If you get to know Finnick it might help you in the future."

"Okay..." said Torus uncertainly.

"Now," called Dinnick above the noise, "here at the end – " He was interrupted again, this time by a tremendous clattering noise from the back of the room at the broken windows at the top of the wall. Then several things happened at once.

Two pigeons flapped through the broken window almost directly above Torus's head. The pups, who had never seen a pigeon, started screaming, as did many other rats, young and old. Nevi darted swiftly and silently through a gap in a nearby wall. Chello dashed in a different direction and snatched up a bent and rusty nail that was lying on the floor near the far wall. Torus saw them both, and saw them nearly collide, although neither seemed to notice the other. Torus's father put his arms around the pups in an attempt to calm them as the pigeons circled around and around the room. On the platform, Dinnick looked alarmed, Nogolo was looking at him smugly, Mr. Nile was looking at Nogolo shrewdly, and the Chief was watching the pigeons circle with a somewhat dreamy smile on his face.

As they had at the previous gathering, the pigeons slowly circled down and finally landed on the platform. Nogolo stepped up to meet them.

"Welcome, friends," he said. "We are nearly finished, but I'm glad you were able to join us."

"Greeting greet greet!" said one of the pigeons.

Nogolo turned and addressed the crowd. "You all are aware, I know, of the new arrangement we have entered into with our neighbors the pigeons. I took it upon myself to invite a delegation to attend our coming of age ceremony to help cement the ties we are building between Clan and Flock." The crowd regarded him with cold silence.

"Wise rat, old rat wise," said the other pigeon. "Listen rat young old rat young wise. Rat Rat!"

"Now, as Advisor Dinnick was about to announce, there is a small celebration after the ceremony. To honor our new members, you know, and I thought it fitting if our new allies would honor us by joining with us for some refreshment?"

There was a disgruntled murmur from the crowd, and the other leaders on the platform stared incredulously at Nogolo. The pigeons stared, too, with wide, glassy expressionless eyes.

"Join not," the first pigeon finally said. "Observe we observe only. Ratgathering. Uneasy makes it us we uneasy of ratgathering. Observe."

"Ah, yes, I understand," said Nogolo, nervously, "but this is simply our coming of age ceremony. We gather each second moon for this purpose. Surely you see it is of no consequence?"

"Join not. Now go we," said the pigeon, and they flapped noisily out the window.

When the birds disappeared through the window the crowd erupted in a flood of angry shouts.

"How dare you?" demanded a tall rat with brown fur. "How dare you invite those...creatures to this? This is supposed to be for us and our young ones! It's nothing to share with outsiders!" Several other rats shouted in agreement, including Torus's father.

Torus saw Nevi come out of the space in the wall, carrying something long and sharp. Chello saw her, too, and started over to where she was.

"Dad," Torus said, "can I go over and talk to my friends?"

"Sure," said his father. "We'll see you at home later. We'll do our own celebration there. I don't think Nogolo's party turned out like he hoped."

Torus looked up at the platform and saw Nogolo surrounded by a sea of angry, shouting rats while Mr. Nile watched with amusement. Torus went over to where his friends were waiting.

"Let's get out of here," said Chello, and they followed him out to a quieter place in the basement. He was still carrying his nail and occasionally poked it into the wall or floor of the tunnel.

They flopped down in the shadows and were silent for a moment.

"Well, I guess everything changes now," said Torus.

"Nothing ever changes," said Chello. "Just more of the same."

"So are you staying on then? On the Patrol? Or are you still thinking about leaving?"

"I don't know," said Chello. "If Nogolo keeps letting those birds in pretty soon there won't be any reason to stay."

"I think we can stop it," said Nevi. "If I can bully my way into being a Scout and Torus can invent a whole new profession for himself, then what _can't_ we achieve?"

"I'm hungry," said Chello. "If I'm going to be Dumpish Junior I'd better start eating right away. Who's got food?"

"We have lots of food," said Torus. Why don't you come over? Nevi, get your mom and Chello, you can –"

"Nah, they won't come," said Chello. "But I'll come along if you've got enough."

"Oh, sure," said Torus. "Loads. I'll go tell my dad. Go get your mom, Nevi and you all come over, okay?"

"Sure."

"Okay"

Then the three young rats scampered off in three different directions, leaving the crowd of rats in the meeting room behind them.

* * *

### Part II

Chapter Thirteen

On a cold afternoon Torus lay watching Sandwich Man from the safety of the hole between the bricks in the alley wall. Fat flakes of snow fell out of a dull, white sky and melted slowly on the wet ground. Torus lay on his side and waited for something to drop, but without much hope. In recent weeks the man had become more fastidious and seldom let anything fall from his sandwich other than a few crumbs. The dog lay shivering at the man's feet, also waiting for something to drop, also without much hope. The dog stood up briefly to shake out its wet fur, and Torus noticed the snowflakes were starting to stick to the ground, rather than melt. He curled up against the cold, but he wasn't willing to go back into the relative warmth of the building. Not yet.

"Hey, you," said a voice from inside the wall.

"Hi Nevi," he said, without turning his head, or even raising it from the floor of his observation hole.

"Are you here again? Is it really that fascinating?" She came out of the tunnel and sat down beside him.

"Not really," he replied tiredly. "It's more like a chance to get away for a little while. Take a little break before the forage starts."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," she said. "It's been a rough couple of moons, hasn't it..."

"Kind of..."

In fact, Torus was exhausted. Since coming of age he had worked nearly every day on the tunnel team, working on widening and straightening the tunnel under the street to the park. The leaders had decided the tunnel should be wide enough for two rats to run abreast in each direction, and that some of the sharp turns should be rounded to allow quicker passage.

"Isn't the tunnel just about done now?" asked Nevi. "Won't things quiet down then?"

"Yeah, almost done, I guess. It's hard to tell because they only let me haul away rubble and stuff. Arkon and I are the new pups on the team, so we just carry stuff. I don't know anything about the plans or what comes next." He closed his eyes. "And everyone wants a sledge now, and I keep getting called away to help with that, so I miss some of the instructions. It's hard to keep track of what's going on." He opened his eyes and looked at her. "How's the scouting?"

Nevi paused before answering.

"It's alright," she said. "Mostly it's more like running messages. I get sent to watch out some lookout for half the day, and then I go back to report that I didn't see anything. I'd think they were just picking on me and sending me to the boring spots, but everyone I talk to says it's the same all over. We just sit and watch for trouble and then if anything happens we get together to take care of it. Only nothing ever happens."

"Well, just be patient," said Torus. "There's bound to be an intruder or a cat or something eventually."

"I hope so," she said, without much enthusiasm.

Torus's stomach growled loudly and he looked out at Sandwich Man, who was just taking the last bite of his sandwich.

Torus sighed audibly.

"Nothing left. Typical."

"So how's the foraging going?" asked Nevi. "I don't go much because they've always got me scouting, and when they do send me it's always the same human's kitchen on the third floor. Is there as much food as they said there would be?"

"Well, there was at first, I guess. It seemed like there was a lot, anyway, especially at the dumpster in the park. And I guess they raised the amount that goes to the Clan stockpile to prepare for the winter. But lately there's less in all the dumpsters, including the park, and less in the kitchens, too. And they didn't change how much goes to the Clan and now it's like there's no more food than there was before. Less maybe. It's hard to tell."

"Where would all that food go?"

"I don't know, maybe there's just fewer people in the park so they don't make as much garbage."

"Are the pigeons taking it all?"

"Maybe some of it. They sure are there all the time. They hang out at the park after our guard duty has taken over, and they sit in the trees and seem like they watch everything we take. They don't say anything, but it makes me nervous anyway. And Arkon told me he's started seeing them hanging around the building dumpsters, too, which they never used to do. It's weird, but I'm too tired to think about it much."

Another voice came out of the wall.

"You're not much of a thinker even when you're not tired!"

"Hi Chello," said Nevi, smiling. "Nice of you to drop by."

"My pleasure," he replied, flopping down on Nevi's other side. "Did I miss the sandwich?"

"Yeah, but there's nothing left," said Torus.

"Pity," said Chello, casually. "Well, I'm not really hungry, anyway."

"What brings you down to ground level, then?" asked Nevi. "Patrolling for forage shirkers?"

"No, I just came to get you guys for the gathering."

Torus sighed again and Nevi rolled her eyes.

"Another gathering? That's the second one this week. What's this about, more Clan Hygiene?"

"Maybe if Torus would clean his ears once in a while it wouldn't be such a hot topic," said Chello, laughing.

Torus grumbled, "They aren't even real gatherings anymore. They're just announcements. Why do we have to go when we can just find out what they're announcing later?"

"I don't know," said Chello. "They just told the junior Patrol Officers to go around and 'remind' anyone the saw to come to this one."

"I don't want to," said Torus. "I want a nap before the forage starts."

"You should have gotten on Patrol, then. We have a fifty percent exemption from forage duty. That means we only have to forage every other day."

"I know what it means," said Torus. "How do you get enough to eat then?"

"They supplement our families out of the Clan stockpile. Scouts too, right Nevi?"

Nevi nodded silently without looking at Torus.

"Well, you guys lucked out, didn't you," said Torus, with just a trace of bitterness.

"Don't worry about it," said Nevi. "After a while you can move up in the Tunnel Team and things get easier, right? The leader gets a half exemption, and the assistant leaders get one third. That's one night off out of three."

"I know what it is," snapped Torus. "But that doesn't help me now, does it? All I want now is to go home and take a nap before I have to go out and restock the Clan stockpile for you."

"That's not fair," said Nevi. "It's not our fault."

"You're right, I'm sorry," said Torus. "I am tired, though. I don't want to go to any gathering right now."

"Well, I have to go," said Chello. "Dumpish is expecting his whole patrol to be there, and I don't want him on my case. In fact, he wants us there early, so I've got to scamper away now. See you later!" And with that he disappeared into the wall.

"I should go, too," said Nevi. "The Scout leader watches everything I do really closely. I don't want to make any waves." She stopped and waited until Torus turned and caught her eye. "Okay? Are you coming?"

"I might," he said, looking away again. "I'll see..."

"Okay, well, I hope so." She waved awkwardly and then turned and went the same way Chello had gone.

Torus lay for a short time and looked out into the alley. The ground was now covered with a thin layer of snow. The snowflakes were smaller than before, but more numerous and falling more thickly. The sky had darkened a little, and the temperature had dropped. Without the others there, the hole in the wall was as cold as the outside and Torus shivered a little. Well, he told himself, at least in the meeting room it will be warm. He got up and stretched his stiff limbs.

Maybe they'll have snacks, he added, and turned and made his way back into the tunnels in the wall.

On the way to the meeting room he came upon Mr. Nile, shuffling along even more slowly than usual.

"Hi, Mr. Nile," he said. "Are you okay?"

"What? Oh, hello, Torus. Yes, I'm fine." Mr. Nile stopped to talk. "I'm just a little stiffer than usual. Something happened in my den. There's a new draft from the back wall, and now the heat from my human's oven doesn't come into my house. So I'm much colder than I'm used to being, and it's making all my bones stiff."

"Why would there be a new draft?"

"Oh, I don't know. This building is full of cracks and holes. Perhaps some mortar fell out from between some bricks somewhere. Or maybe a window was left open in one of the rooms the humans have abandoned. It's just a tiny little draft – barely noticeable – but it makes the heat go the wrong way under the oven." Mr. Nile stopped and sighed. "It's too cold to stay there all the time, but it would be much too hard for me to find another home now."

"Isn't there something we could do?"

"I don't think so. I think I'll just shiver all winter and then in the summer the new draft will bring some welcome coolness."

"I'll bet there's a way..." said Torus, half to himself. He scowled at the floor, trying to remember how Mr. Nile's home was arranged. "I can't imagine your den in my head. Can I come over after the gathering and look around? Maybe I can think of something."

"Yes, that would be fine," said Mr. Nile. "If indeed we even get to the gathering. We've already missed the entrance and gatherings seem to be rather shorter than normal these days."

"I'm not really interested, anyway. I was just going for the warmth, and maybe some snacks."

"Well, I can't promise any warmth at my house, but I do have snacks. I'm sure we can find out all about the gathering later."

On the way to Mr. Nile's house, they passed several rats going about their various business. Down a side passage, a pair of young females worked halfheartedly at cleaning the tunnel while they talked and giggled. Further on, another pair, male and female, stood whispering in the shadows and lowered their voices as Torus and Mr. Nile passed. An older male that Torus didn't recognize came toward them, but ducked nervously into a side tunnel when he saw them coming.

"Apparently we're not the only ones with something better to do than go to gatherings," said Mr. Nile wryly.

"What's this one about? Do you know?" asked Torus.

"Food," said Mr. Nile. "What else is there? Food and loyalty, which really means obedience."

Torus caught the bitter note in this statement, but before he could respond Mr. Nile called out down the tunnel.

"Hello, Mindle!"

A very old female rat came shuffling toward them pulling a bulging bundle of rags behind her. She didn't respond until she was right beside them. Then she spoke without stopping and passed them.

"H'lo, Nile. Pup."

Mr. Nile smiled and said, without looking back, "Nice day for a bundle of rags,"

"Hm."

"Who is that?" Torus asked when she was out of sight.

"Just an old friend," said Mr. Nile. "One of us is older than the other, but we can never agree which."

They walked for a few moments in silence, and then Torus asked, "So, what about the gathering. Is it anything important?"

"I'm not sure...none of the leaders would tell me anything about it. They just came to me yesterday with a lot of questions about the sun and how long the days and nights are. I told them, Yes, the days get shorter in the winter, and the nights get longer, but I don't mark the sun, just the moon. There's no need for us to mark the sun for our way of life."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I mark the moon so we can keep track of the passage of time, so we can plan things, so we know how old we are and how fast our pups are growing. But we don't live outdoors, so marking the sun doesn't help us at all. Rats that live outdoors – "

"Like the park rats?"

"Like the park rats, yes, they mark the sun to know when the seasons change, and to know when the safe times of the night are. I learned to mark the sun once, but I don't think I could do it now, nor would I want to."

"Why would the leaders want to know about the sun?"

"I'm afraid to guess."

They arrived at the house and Mr. Nile gestured him inside. Torus could tell right away that it was much cooler in the house than before, but still not as cool as his own home. He started looking around while Mr. Nile busied himself at the back of the nest.

For the most part, the nest was snugly tucked between the ceiling of one apartment and the floor of the apartment above. It was a cozy space with room enough to move around, but still with the close, closed-in feeling that made rats comfortable. At the back of the room, though, was the brick outer wall of the building, and there was a narrow gap along the wall where there was no floor and no ceiling, just a slender space going down into darkness below, and up into darkness above. And indeed there was a draft of cold air coming down from the space above. It was hardly noticeable, but once he was aware of it, Torus could see how chilling it would be to sit in the draft for very long.

At the other end of the room the floor and the ceiling came together, and there was only a very small gap between them. A mouse, or a small young rat, could crawl inside that space, but it was much too small for a full-grown rat to move in comfortably. And this was the space that was warmed by the kitchen of Mr. Nile's human. But no warmth came out now. In fact, with the space compressed, Torus could almost hear the draft whistling into the little space and carrying away the heat to unknown places on the other side of the apartment.

Mr. Nile appeared at his side with some pretzels.

"You see?" he said. "Troubling."

"Yeah..." said Torus, nibbling absently and scratching his ear. "I'll be some rat did some tunneling or building that changed the way the air moves through."

He walked back over to the back of the room and stared up into the darkness, sniffing the air and listening for something he couldn't quite hear. Then he followed the path of the draft through Mr. Nile's den, over the floor and between the piles of collected objects, to the narrow space on the other side. He sat down heavily and took a large bite of his pretzel, staring hard into the little gap.

Mr. Nile joined him and they sat together in silence for a while. Finally, he spoke.

"Anything yet?" He seemed amused, but he was also shivering a little.

Torus shook his head and took another bite of his pretzel. He was about to say something when there was a sudden pattering of feet and a jabbering of young voices outside the door.

"Hey, Torus, are you in there?" called a voice.

Before Torus could answer Mr. Nile called out.

"Yes, he's here. Come on in, Nevi."

Nevi came in, and behind her came Chello and Juke. Torus could hear others outside still in the tunnel.

"Hi," he said, not very brightly. "What's going on? I thought there was a gathering."

Nevi rolled her eyes and said, "It's over. Just an announcement, like you said."

"Yeah," said Chello. "The Chief's selling us out again. Great, huh?"

"What do you mean?" asked Torus.

"We were all going over to Juke's place to talk about it. Do you want to come?"

"I'd like to hear what happened, as well," said Mr. Nile. "Why don't you all come in here? I have plenty of pretzels."

"Okay, sure..." said Nevi uncertainly. Juke turned without a word and lumbered out into the tunnel. They heard him murmur shortly, and then he returned, followed by a small crowd of young rats. Mr. Nile greeted them all as they came in.

"Hello, Arkon. Flinka, nice to see you again. Juke, hello..." He stopped and squinted at the last two to come in, twin females with identical brown fur and narrow faces. "Davin is it? And Vinda? Welcome. I haven't seen you two in a while. Come in, all of you, you know where to sit..." He shuffled to the back of his den to retrieve the bag of pretzels.

Nevi and Chello sat down near where Torus was still sitting. The others all found seats as well, in a rough circle. Juke had his back to the drafty wall and Flinka maneuvered herself between him and Vinda. Vinda rolled her eyes and whispered something in her twin sister's ear that made her laugh silently.

"Does everyone come up here?" Torus whispered to Cello. "Everyone seems pretty comfortable, and he knows everybody."

Chello shrugged.

"I dunno, I guess so. Everybody's got to go someplace, right?"

Torus snorted.

"That doesn't even mean anything."

Flinka suddenly whined and gave an exaggerated shiver.

"Mr. Nile your house is too cold!" She tried to scoot closer to Juke, but he didn't notice.

"I know, my dear," said Mr. Nile. "It's become quite drafty. I have a young builder working on the problem though, so perhaps things will improve."

Torus had in fact been occupied with the problem even though his friends were there.

"Yeah, I actually had an idea... do you have any extra rags?"

"The hole is too wide to stuff with rags. I already tried that."

"Oh, okay," said Torus, discouraged. Then he suddenly brightened. "What about some cardboard? And some tape?"

"That I have, over by the left wall. The tape I'm not sure of, but you can check in that coffee can over there."

Torus got up to look through the supplies, and Mr. Nile came back and plopped the open bag of pretzels in the middle of the circle.

"I'm too tired to pass them out, just help yourselves." He sat down on the floor next to Nevi and said, "Now. Whenever you're ready you can tell this old rat all about the latest developments."

The young rats all avoided looking at him and avoided looking at each other. Except for Chello and Akron, Torus's companion on the Tunnel Team, they also avoided looking at the pretzels, so mostly they all settled on looking at their toes or the tips of their tails.

Mr. Nile looked around the circle for a moment and then snorted.

"Well, really. I'm too old for this nonsense. At this rate I'll go into the darkness before I even find out what joke the Chief said to start the meeting. At the very least you can start eating pretzels while someone thinks of something to say."

"That's good enough for me," said Chello, reaching into the bag. "I'd hate to insult our host, wouldn't you, Arkon?"

"Absolutely!" he replied. He reached for the snacks so quickly that a pretzel was already in his mouth before he finished his next sentence. "Wouldn't think mff mffff."

There was a flurry of activity, and soon the silence was filled with happy crunching and rustling.

Torus found the cardboard and pulled out three or four pieces that looked fairly sturdy. There was no tape, but he found a small sheet of stickers with pictures of bats and cats and pumpkins and humans in strange clothing. He took his supplies over to the drafty wall and started thinking, nibbling thoughtfully on a piece of cardboard to straighten out one of its edges.

Mr. Nile helped himself to one of his own pretzels and spoke over the noise.

"Now, will someone please tell me what work of genius was begun today?"

"The Chief's giving the dumpster to the pigeons," said Chello through a mouthful.

"No he's not!" said Nevi, swatting him on the shoulder.

He shrugged and took another bite.

"Whatever," he said.

Nevi turned to Mr. Nile.

"It's more like changing the rules about sharing it," she said. "He said something about how the pigeons came to him and said the days were getting too short and the nights were too long, and that gave us an unfair advantage, or something. Like we have too much time now, and they don't have enough, so he agreed to let them be there for a while after dark while we're there, and for a while early in the morning before it gets light, too."

"And how did that go over?" the old rat asked.

"Well, no one seemed happy about it," she continued, "but only one rat spoke up. Flinka, I think it was your dad. He started to say something about how the neighboring clans were already unhappy with us for claiming clan-right on the dumpster, and how this new arrangement would make it even worse, but then he got nervous and stopped in the middle."

Flinka rolled her eyes.

"That was my dad alright," she said.

"Anyway, after that, no one said anything else and Nogolo told us it was all for the good of the clan to share with 'our partners.'"

"Like all of us there together, at the same time?" asked Vinda, "Like _that_ 'll work."

"Yeah, I think that's what he meant," said Nevi. "He wasn't very clear."

"Oh, he was clear," said Arkon. "He said 'We with our friends and partners share. Share.' He's even beginning to talk like them."

"Maybe he'll become one and fly away and we can get a new Chief that won't fall over like a wet rag when things get tough," said Chello. Flinka gasped and grabbed Juke's arm. Nevi turned to Chello in alarm.

"Chello, stop it," she said. "He's still the Chief, no matter what. You promised your loyalty, remember."

"Oh, that's right, I forgot," he said. "Thank you for reminding me of my duties, your Scoutness." He scowled and grabbed another pretzel. Half to himself he muttered, "Stupid pigscat birds. Taking over the whole clan. I'm going to go live in the park and kill every bird I see."

"What is it with you and birds?" said Arkon. "I agree they're disgusting and all that, like they can barely talk, and they smell weird. But come on! Why shouldn't we work with them if it can work out? Dumpish say's they're doing a pretty good job keeping cats away from the dumpster, and out of the alley, too. If they're keeping up their part why shouldn't we share the garbage in the park?"

"I don't trust them, that's why," said Chello. "I used to trust the Chief, but now his mind is full of pigeon-talk, and I never trusted the Advisors to begin with. Something about the whole thing stinks and that's that."

Some of the rats murmured in agreement, but Flinka said "You're dangerous! Someone should report you to...somebody!" She squeezed Juke's arm and he looked down at her. He apparently had only just noticed her. He furrowed his brow and then carefully pulled his arm away.

While everyone was talking, Torus had carefully shaped some long strips of cardboard so they would just fit in the space between the inner and outer wall. He worked his way along the wall, fitting one piece after another and sticking them in place with the orange and black stickers.

There was a short silence, and then Arkon spoke up again.

"Why are they so strange? I mean, how can they talk that way, anyway? I couldn't put words together in that order if I tried."

"Their minds work differently," said Mr. Nile, staring thoughtfully at the nearly empty pretzel bag. "All creatures have different minds, and their minds are reflected in the way they speak."

Torus stepped back from the wall and surveyed his work. The draft was noticeably less, but the room was still cold. He picked up a piece of cardboard and waved it in the air. It made a little gust of air the ruffled the fur on Flinka's back.

"Hey!" she said, turning around sharply. "Stop that!"

Torus ignored her and took his cardboard and stickers to the other side of the room where the heat used to blow in from under the oven. He couldn't fit all the way in, but by squirming a little he was able to get his front half in far enough to reach back and attach the cardboard to the far edge, where it hung down like a flap.

"Pigeon minds must be pretty mixed up," said Arkon.

"And I imagine ours must seem rather mixed up to them," replied Mr. Nile. "But in some ways I think it's to their credit that they approached us with the idea of sharing the dumpster. I don't know that rats would ever have made the first move."

"No, we wouldn't have," said Chello hotly. "Because rats are self-sufficient and have a sense of dignity. We would never sink so low that we had to rely on them. I tell you I don't trust them. They're up to something and this 'dumpster sharing' is just the beginning."

Torus wriggled out of the warm crevice and found a piece of string in Mr. Nile's supplies. He squeezed back in and tied the string to the lower edge of the hanging cardboard flap. When he pulled himself out again he gave the string an experimental pull and was delighted to feel a little puff of warm air hit his face.

"Hey, look!" he whispered, trying to get Nevi's attention, but she waved him to silence. He sulked a little and sat back down, still holding his string, which he began tugging rhythmically.

"And where do they live?" said Arkon, as if he hadn't heard Chello at all. "And how does their King become King? Since they can fly, do you think they like being on the ground or in the air better?"

"Why do you care?" said Chello. Arkon shrugged and looked down at his feet.

"I dunno," he said. "Just curious I guess..."

"'Just curious,'" muttered Chello as he reached for another pretzel.

"Chello, stop it," said Nevi. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to know more." Chello stared straight ahead without saying anything. "Anyway, we should go before we eat all Mr. Nile's food."

"Yes, let's!" said Flinka. "Let's go on to Juke's house like we said before. It's warm there, right, Juke?"

Juke looked like he had never thought about it.

"Warm enough," he said.

"Oh, there's no problem with that, Nevi," said Mr. Nile. "There's no shortage of pretzels here. And I do enjoy the company, after all."

But despite this, the crowd started to move toward the door, mumbling about having to get home, and tossing thanks over their shoulders to their host.

Torus watched the others leave. He wasn't sure what to do, but when Chello and Nevi moved toward the door he got up as well.

"Thanks," he said to Mr. Nile, handing him the string. "G'bye...I made a thing for the heat. Just pull on this a few times"

"Wait a moment, would you, Torus, Nevi?" said Mr. Nile.

"Okay, sure," he said, glancing at Nevi.

Nevi called out the door, "Chello, hang on a second," and turned back into the room.

There was a pause as Mr. Nile gathered up the remaining pretzels and the three young rats sat down again. When he came back from putting the bag away, Mr. Nile seemed lost in thought, and he sat experimenting with the string the controlled the fan for some time before he spoke. When he did, there was a distinct edge to his voice.

"I agree with Chello," he said. "I don't know very much about pigeons, but something about the current situation makes me very uncomfortable."

"Told you!" said Chello, giving Nevi a little shove.

"Whatever," she said.

"So, what should we do?" asked Torus.

"I think we need to learn more about the birds," said Mr. Nile. "In the old days, I would have just gone out to the park myself and talked to them, but now I'd have to wait for spring, and I don't know if we have that long."

"What about us? Would they talk to us?"

"I don't know if they would, Nevi. They're strange creatures, with a strong sense of hierarchy. I think they would recognize you as youngsters and refuse to talk to you instead of your parents or leaders."

"Well, what else can we do, then?" said Chello, impatiently.

"This is really quite remarkable," said Mr. Nile, holding up the string. "It's much warmer now than before, don't you think? Quite ingenious!"

He sat pulling the string with a regular, gentle motion that brought a noticeable warm breeze into the room. It wasn't as warm as in the past, but much better than before. The three young rats watched him for a moment, with Chello becoming increasingly agitated.

Finally Nevi said gently, "Mr. Nile?" and he turned toward them.

"So sorry," he said with a wink for Nevi. "The warmth must be making me sleepy. I have a friend here in the building that may be able to help," he continued. "It's difficult to get to his home, even for a young healthy rat, which I am not. I think you three could go, though, and I think he would talk to you if you gave him my name. He's quite old, and has a lot of knowledge outside the realm of rats and the clan."

"Who is he?" asked Nevi. "Is he a rat with another clan?"

"No, he's not," he replied. "He's not a rat at all, in fact."

He paused and looked at them with an expression that may have been a wry smile hiding an awkward apology, or may have simply been a myopic squint in the dim light.

"No, in fact, you may be surprised to find out that my wise friend," he finally said, "is a cat."

* * *

Chapter Fourteen

"This is ridiculous," hissed Chello from behind Torus. "Why are we doing this? We'll probably get eaten. He probably doesn't even know anything. We don't need to know anything either! Why are we doing this? This is stupid!"

He had been keeping up the same refrain for the past half hour as he followed Torus, and as Torus followed Nevi along the tortuous path Mr. Nile had given them the day before. From the first floor mop closet, though the wall into the unused elevator shaft, up a broken cable, along a drainage pipe, back into the walls and under the floor of a vacant room on the third floor, Nevi had led them quietly and, when possible, swiftly from shadow to shadow. Chello struggled at the rear with a long, blue-tinted knitting needle. As far as they knew they were unseen, and had themselves only seen one rat from a great distance.

Torus held his nose up in the air and sniffed deeply.

"It smells like no one ever comes here. I don't even smell any humans around here."

"Stupid," whispered Chello as he untangled his weapon of choice from an inconvenient spider web. "Waste of time."

"If you can find some string I'll make you a strap so you can carry that dumb thing on your back instead of having to drag it along getting it stuck all the time," said Torus.

"You just wait, you'll be glad I brought my poker when that cat tries to jump us"

"Hush!" hissed Nevi. She stopped them at the far side of the floor under the empty room, near a metal heating duct. "I think this is it."

"What is what?" asked Chello. "A waste of time?"

"No, shut up," she said. "There's a gap somewhere in the duct here that we can get into. Help me find it."

"Forget it!" said Chello. I'm not going in any heating duct. There's no food in them and rats that go in them never come out."

"Fine, then. Stay here." Nevi walked the length of the duct carefully scrutinizing each seam for a gap. "Or go back, if you think you can find the way. I've never gotten lost, and I'm not starting now. Hey, here it is!" She beckoned the other two over to where the metal joint of the ductwork had separated and made a narrow space, just wide enough for a rat to squeeze through. Chello squinted at it skeptically and wouldn't come too close, but Torus went up to it and sniffed the air inside.

"I can smell rat," he said. "Maybe Mr. Nile, but from moons and moons ago. It's hard to tell..."

"This is so stupid," said Chello. "I'm not going."

"Oh, come on, Chello," said Nevi. "You heard what Mr. Nile said. The heating duct goes up into the fourth floor and takes us to the apartment where the cat lives. But we're inside the duct and there's a grille over the vent so he can't get at us, we tell him we're friends of Nile's and he tells us all about the pigeons. Your mortal enemies, remember? We're here to find out what's going on so that _you_ ," she poked him pointedly in the ribs, "can figure out what to do with yourself."

There was a short silence while Torus looked at Nevi, Nevi looked at Chello, and Chello examined the point on his needle. Finally, Nevi turned and led the way into the duct. She only had to struggle a little, but Torus had trouble working his shoulders through. Chello reluctantly set his weapon down and slipped into the gap with no difficulty at all. He turned to grab the knitting needle, only to find it was too long to work easily into the narrow space of the duct. He could pull one end in, but it jammed against the top of the square metal tube before he could get the other end in.

"You don't need that, do you?" asked Nevi exasperatedly. "Can't you come back for it later?"

"I always need it," he replied, grunting with the effort of wrenching the stubborn weapon. Finally he worked it through and the three continued on their way, Nevi creeping forward carefully in the near-total darkness, and Chello resuming his whispered monologue.

"'Figure out what to do with myself.' Cheese! This is stupid..."

They followed the duct for a short distance and came to a place where it joined another, smaller duct at right angles.

"We go left here," said Nevi. "You can hang on to my tail if you want so we don't get separated."

Chello snorted. "The last time I pulled your tail you bit my ear off."

"You deserved it!" she retorted. "Besides, I didn't bite it all the way off, I only softened it up a little. Torus, you can hang on if you want."

"No, that's okay. If I get lost I'll just listen for the sound of you two fighting."

"Pff! This isn't fighting," said Chello. "This is like a friendly chat after dinner. I feel like I _need_ a good fight. All this sneaking around gives me the heebie jeebies."

"Where do we go after this?" asked Torus. "Is it much further? I'm afraid Chello's going to get his heebie jeebies on me. OW!"

"Oh, _sorry!_ ' said Chello. "I guess I couldn't _see_ you in the dark and I _accidentally_ jabbed you with Sticker."

"You named it?" asked Nevi, incredulously.

"All great weapons have names. It helps preserve their glory for future generations."

"Whatever," mumbled Torus, rubbing the sore spot on his rump. "So are we close? Or what?"

"Close, I think," said Nevi. "All Mr. Nile said was 'Get in the duct, take the left branch, then go up.' So all that's left is 'up'."

Torus was about to ask "What does 'up' mean?" when he collided with Nevi who had come to a stop in the narrow passage. Chello in turn ran smack into Torus and for a moment he couldn't tell which end was up as he struggle to regain his footing. Once he did he felt around to figure out where his friends were and what the situation was in the duct.

"Is it a dead end?" he asked. "Are we lost?"

"No," said Nevi. "Look up."

Torus craned his head back and saw that the duct went straight up and far above them was a tiny glimmer of faint light.

"Wow," said Torus. "That must be clear up at the fourth floor."

Nevi nodded silently. He couldn't see her, but could feel her whiskers on his shoulder, which gave him a sudden shiver.

"So, how do we get 'up,'" asked Chello from Torus's other side.

Nevi inched forward and reached up the sides of the shaft.

"I don't know," she said. "I don't...wait! What's this?" She lurched up suddenly and in a moment was gone from between the others.

"Nevi! Nevi? What is it?" Chello sounded almost panicked.

"It's a rope!" came Nevi's voice from close above them. "Nile must have put it here. That's his style. Come on, it's easy to climb."

There was a slight scrambling sound from above and Torus could tell Nevi was making her way quickly up the rope toward the light. He reached up himself and felt for the end of the rope swinging in the dark. He found it when it swung into his head and he grabbed it quickly. It was a thick, coarse human rope and his claws found easy purchase in the twisted fibers. He pulled himself up and began climbing as quickly as he could, trying not to think about how far below the bottom of the shaft was.

"Hey!" came a shout from below. "What about me?"

Torus paused climbing and called down.

"What _about_ you?"

"What about Sticker? How can I bring it up?"

"I don't know," said Torus, exasperated. "Let me tie a string on it next time like I said. Just leave it and come back for it."

"But I need it," called Chello, a little desperately.

"Oh, cheese, I don't know," said Torus, starting to climb again. "Hold it in your teeth or something."

"Will you two pipe down," Nevi called down in a harsh whisper. "You're making the whole building shake."

"How close is it?" Torus whispered up to her. "Is it much further?" But before there was time for her to answer he found himself nose to nose with her at the top of the shaft. The duct leveled out and ran for a short distance to a vented grill that was the end of the path and the source of the light. Torus blinked in the relative brightness and crept forward as silently as he could toward the vent.

Suddenly there was the sound of a scrambling struggle behind him and Chello heaved himself up onto the level surface with his knitting needle in his teeth and flopped over onto his side.

"Foof!" he said, panting.

"Shush!" whispered Nevi tensely. "We're practically inside a human's home. We can't attract any attention from it or we're doomed."

They sat in silence for a moment, resting from their climb, and then Torus asked, "Well, what now?"

"I'm not sure," said Nevi. "Mr. Nile didn't say. I guess we call the cat?"

Still lying on his side Chello stifled a giggle.

"That's great," he said. "Just what I've always wanted to do! Heeere, kitty kitty kitty!" he said. "Heeeeeeeerrreee, puss puss puss puss!"

"You stop that!" said Nevi, trying not to laugh. But soon she and Torus joined Chello in failing to suppress their giggles, and they lay on the floor of the duct and let the tension of their journey release into youthful hysterics.

An hour later, that mirth was a distant memory. Torus and Nevi stared out of the vent at the kitchen floor of the apartment while Chello lay snoozing on his back with one arm flung over his eyes and one hand on his knitting needle. Through the narrow slits in the vent they could see most of the floor, which was worn and colorless and spotlessly clean. In the middle of the floor they could see the feet and legs of a small table with two chairs and a patch of dim light from a hidden window. At the far side of the room they could just see the base of some cabinets with two plastic bowls on the floor in front of them. There had been no movement and no sound in the room the entire time they had been there. Torus yawned.

"This is great. The place looks vacant. How long has it been since Mr. Nile was up here? Maybe they left?"

"I don't think so. It looks like there's still someone here. I don't think a cat would have allowed its bowls to be left behind."

"Oh..." Torus tried and failed to suppress a second yawn.

"How come this place is so secret? It doesn't seem very threatening."

"I asked a couple of the other Scouts about that, actually. They said it wasn't worth coming up here because, One: it's restricted because of the cat, and Two: – " Nevi yawned herself. "Two: the human that lives here is a total neat freak that cleans up _everything_ and takes out the garbage _every_ day. So it's not worth getting killed to forage at a place with no food. So a convenient tunnel was never built." She turned suddenly and jabbed at Chello. "Wake up! You're putting us to sleep."

Chello replied without moving or uncovering his eyes.

"I figure that human's doing us a favor by putting all its garbage in a bag and throwing it in the dumpster for us. I hate having to sneak out into their kitchens at night to clean up after them. It's so inconsiderate!"

"Yeah, well, you know humans," said Torus. "Always thinking about themselves."

"Yeah, that and their stupid cats. Where is that cat anyway? I want to poke it!" Chello rolled over and shuffled over to the other two dragging his weapon behind him.

"I don't know," said Nevi. "It better hurry, though. Judging by the light on the floor we've only got a little more time before we have to head back."

Her words trailed off as they heard a sound from an adjacent room of the apartment, a metallic clinking and a mechanical click.

"Keys in the lock," whispered Nevi. "The human's home!"

They heard the sound of the door opening and closing, and huge footsteps coming across the floor. They saw the human's feet come into the kitchen with short, shuffling steps in black rubber boots that were wet with traces of snow. Then, from far above, they heard its voice. It made strange, wordless, human sounds in a high-pitched, warbling tone. It paused, and then made the same sounds again, and this time there was a reply from some out-of-sight place in the apartment.

"Yes, yes, yes, I hear you. I'll be there momentarily!"

The voice was smooth and liquid, with a strange combination of excitement and boredom. Torus craned his neck in the direction of the voice and tried to see where it came from. Chello sucked in his breath and tightened his grip on his weapon. Nevi stayed perfectly still without even blinking. They watched in rigid silence as the cat came in to view, mincing across the floor on silent feet that were remarkabley tiny, considering the creature's bulk. He was easily as big as the three of them put together, and nearly as wide as he was high. He wore a faded blue collar with a few small rhinestones on it, and he was covered in long, fluffy, striped fur that added to his apparent size. As he walked he switched his long, plume-like tail from side to side.

Chello let out his breath softly and whispered, "He's not exactly a lean, mean, killing machine, is he?"

"Shhhh," said Nevi. "With cats it's all about teeth and claws, and he's got plenty of both."

The cat went over to the human and sniffed disdainfully at its boots.

"There's something wrong with your feet," he said.

"I like his collar," said Nevi.

"Maybe he'll let you look at it while he eats you," Chello replied.

The human made more warbling sounds and walked out of the kitchen, with the cat following. It returned shortly, wearing a pair of fluffy, blue slippers, stooped to pick up one of the plastic bowls on the floor and took a small can from one of the cabinets.

"Oh, lovely!" said the cat cheerfully. "Slices in gravy, please, and don't skimp!"

"Yeah," whispered Chello, "save some for the rats."

"Shut up," whispered Torus back to him, "If that human hears us she'll set traps and then we'll never get back here."

Chello shrugged and stared out at the cat, who had begun eating happily.

"I'm starving," he said.

The human's fluffy blue feet shuffled out of the kitchen and didn't return. The cat ate for a few minutes and then sat back and began licking his paws and rubbing his face contentedly.

"We have to go pretty soon," said Nevi nervously. "Do you think we should try to talk to him?"

"I don't know," said Torus. "Do you think the human will come back?"

"Who cares?" said Chello. "This cat doesn't know anything anyway," he added almost hopefully.

"Okay, so what do we say?" said Nevi.

The cat paused its grooming and spoke up into the air.

"I know you're there, you noisy things," he said. " _Some_ body say _some_ thing to me soon, or I'll be forced to bring Mumsy back into the room." He looked down and gazed directly at the vent behind which they were hiding, then quietly resumed licking his left paw methodically.

Recoiling from the cat's glance, the three young rats slipped back into the shadow away from the light and froze. They watched the cat and glanced at each other back and forth for a few moments before Torus stepped back up to the vent and called out timidly.

"Excuse me? Sir? Mr. Gumble?"

The cat looked up with exaggerated surprise and put his paw down on the floor.

"Who calls?" he exclaimed. "Let me go and see." He stood up and walked slowly toward the vent, taking a winding path, stopping to stretch and yawn hugely, showing a large number of very sharp teeth. Finally, he reached the vent and lay down comfortably on his side with his head pointed toward them and his tail twitching on the floor behind him.

"So," he asked lazily, "who are you? And where is Nile?"

Torus knew there was no way the cat could reach him through the narrow slits in the vent, but he couldn't help being nervous so close to it.

He cleared his throat and said, "We're friends of Mr. Nile. He sent us. He says he's too old to climb so far."

The cat considered this.

"Pity," he said. "I wish he'd come to see me. He knows the most interesting things..."

"I'll let him know," said Torus. "He'll be glad to hear it. I think he would have come himself if it wasn't so far."

"No doubt," said the cat thoughtfully. After a short pause he looked at them questioningly. "But he has sent you...?"

"Yes," Torus continued uncertainly, "he sent us here to ask you some things. To get some...information, or something, about...about pigeons, I guess."

The cat may have responded, but from their position inside the heating vent he appeared to remain perfectly still, gazing at them steadily without twitching a whisker.

"There's something going on with them," Nevi interjected. "We don't really know what it is. It's like we're working together about food, but not really, and..." she trailed off.

"The Chief and his gang are making crazy deals with the pigeons, and the birds are always hanging around our dumpsters," said Chello hotly. "It stinks!"

The cat remained silent, but shifted his gaze slowly from Torus to Nevi to Chello and back to Torus. The silence grew uncomfortable and Torus finally spoke again.

"So Mr. Nile said he had a friend that knows a lot about pigeons and stuff, so he sent us to you." He shrugged. "That's all..."

The cat looked thoughtful.

"Curious," he said. "Curious indeed..."

"What's curious?" said Nevi. "That we came up here? Or that the pigeons are up to something?"

The cat sighed heavily.

"Alas," he said, "alas, no, my little rodent friends."

There was a pause, and then Chello blurted out, "'Alas'? What does that even mean? You sound just like the pig-birds and nutty old Nile! Nothing you say makes any sense!"

"Chello, stop it," said Nevi, somewhat alarmed. "Mr. Nile said he could help us. Just give him a chance."

"Phaa!" Chello waved his hand and turned to leave. "I knew this was a waste of time from the start. Let's get out of here. My patrol starts in an hour and I'm hungry."

Torus turned back to the cat who seemed slightly amused by Chello's outburst.

"Do you know what's going on?" he asked. "What can you tell us about them? The pigeons, I mean."

The cat rolled lazily onto his back and appeared to be gathering his thoughts. Torus had not seen many cats in his life, mostly the scrawny animals that prowled the alleys and the vacant lots behind the building, and one or two pets glimpsed briefly from a distance. Still, even with his lack of experience, Torus thought the cat seemed uncommonly fat, like a round ball of fur with four stubby little legs pointing up into the air. He had thought that cats were supposed to have a certain dignity that was definitely lacking in Mr. Gumble.

When the cat finally said in a grandiose and sonorous voice, "I _have_ had some ac _quaint_ ance with the birds," Torus laughed out loud.

The sound startled the cat and he twisted quickly and clumsily around and scrambled back onto his feet, with his eyes wide and his puffy tail thrashing.

"I'm sorry," said Torus, regaining his composure with difficulty. "I didn't mean to laugh, I just thought...I mean..." He couldn't find a way to finish so he started over.

"Look, we're just some young rats looking for answers when we're not even sure what the questions are. Can you help us?"

The cat sat down heavily on his haunches and sat still except for his twitching tail.

"Yes, I can help you," he said, "since you're friends of Nile's."

"That's great!" said Nevi, looking reproachfully at Chello, who was still lingering back in the tunnel.

"Yeah, great," said Chello. "Great until he decides to eat us."

At this the cat flinched and looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"Dear boy, don't be absurd! I don't know what sort of cats you have associated with in the past, but I have certainly never..." he shuddered slightly, "...eaten a rat." He shifted his front paws. "I mean, the very idea! Quite un-neighborly!"

"We don't associate with any cats at all," said Chello, irritably. "Besides, what's wrong with rats? Are you too good to eat a rat?"

"Well," said the cat diplomatically, "it's not _that_ , exactly. And I certainly wouldn't say rats are...un _clean_...necessarily. It's just that the food that comes from Mumsy is so much more appetizing, and so much less...fuzzy, if you get my meaning."

"It's not fuzz, it's fur!" said Chello, somewhat hotly.

"Mumsy?" asked Nevi. "What's that?"

"Well, my human, of course, who did you think?

"It has a name?" said Chello incredulously.

"Of course _she_ has a name. Everybody has a name. As I imagine you three do, friends of Nile?"

"Oh, yes, we do, sorry. I'm Torus, and that's Nevi, and that back there with the knitting needle is Chello."

Chello waved noncommittally.

"Hey," he said.

The cat seemed interested in that.

"'Chello,' really? Son of Chello by chance?"

"Sure, why? Do you know him, too? He never told me he hangs out with cats?"

"No, no, not at all. I know of him, from Nile, that's all."

"Great," said Chello. "My family's reputation precedes me."

"It does indeed," replied the cat, "and quite favorably, too."

"Whatever," said Chello, barely audible in the shadows.

"So, do we have to talk here?" asked Nevi. "Is this where you talk with Mr. Nile? Behind the vent it's like talking to someone in a cage."

"I was thinking the same thing, my dear, but I thought you were the caged ones."

"I guess it depends on what side of the bars you're on," said Torus.

"Quite right!" said the cat, "And now I'm on my side and you three are on your side, and if you like it that way, that's fine with me. But if you prefer someplace more comfortable, that can certainly be arranged."

"Yeah, I guess that would be okay," said Torus. "As long as you're sure you won't eat us."

"Maybe he should be afraid we'll eat him," said Chello, half mocking and half threatening.

"My boy, where would you start?" said the cat good-naturedly. "My fur alone provides a most daunting defense, and then there is far more of me than all three of you could eat in a month." Torus and Nevi laughed, and Chello smiled a little despite himself.

"So where do we go?" asked Torus.

There was the sound of footsteps and the cat snapped his head around.

"Not now," he said. "Mumsy's up from her nap. Come back tomorrow between noon and mid-afternoon." Then he sauntered away from them as if they were invisible and he had never spoken to them. He wound his way around the human's ankles and purred.

"I'm in love with your feet," he said, loudly. Then, in a sharp whisper from the corner of her mouth, she said, "Go now, silently. Return tomorrow." He followed the human into the next room and the three rats turned around, beginning their slow way back to familiar territory and the evening's activities.

* * *

Chapter Fifteen

The next morning was a rest day, so Torus had a day off from the tunnels. He had intended to get up early and go to the alley to look for supplies, but he found himself being shaken awake late in the morning.

"Hey you," said his father. "You better get up. You already missed breakfast. Do you want to miss lunch, too?"

Torus slowly rolled off the bed, then stretched and yawned and rolled back onto the bed on his back, scratching his stomach and blinking lazily.

"What time is it?" he asked. "Why is it so quiet? Where are the pups?"

His father was cleaning up the den, randomly picking things up and putting them in different places.

"They're at a Young Gathering. Learning to keep their tails clean, I hope."

"Wow, really?" said Torus.

"Yes indeed. If you were around more you'd know that."

"Are they that big already?"

"I know," said his father. "It's crazy how quick pups grow up."

Torus rolled back off the bed and slouched over to the food nook. He pulled the curtain aside and noticed there wasn't much to eat. He made a mental note to try to work in some extra foraging during the next week. He picked up a peanut and started idly picking the shell apart with his teeth.

"So, what is it, about mid-morning?"

"Hah! You wish! It's almost noon"

Torus had a sudden small panic.

"Oh. Okay. Well, I've got to go pretty soon, then..."

"Whoa, not so fast! I need you to help me with some things here today, and I thought maybe we'd go out foraging a little later, you know, see if we can fill things up a little bit."

Torus didn't know what to say.

"But I need to go get some building supplies for a sledge for the neighbors, and then this afternoon – " He stopped short and wondered if he should tell his father about sneaking into the un-traveled parts of the building to visit a cat.

"This afternoon...what?" said his father.

"Um...nothing, just going to... meet someone..." Torus mumbled.

"Oh really?" said his father with an amused smirk. "Someone...important?"

Torus was painfully confused.

"Not really important, I guess," he stammered. "Just a...friend of Mr. Nile's that he wants us to...visit..." He trailed off and hoped that was enough.

His father looked perplexed.

"Okay," he said after a short pause. "Maybe this evening then, after that. Are you up for a little father-son forage after dinner? Before the teams head out?"

"Uh, sure. Sure." Torus was relieved that he didn't have to explain anything, but he didn't know what to think about his father's sudden desire to go foraging with him. He looked down at the peanut in his hands and started chewing on it again so he didn't have to talk anymore.

"Great!" said his father, returning to his aimless straightening. "When you're done with your breakfast we'll have lunch and then take care of some things. I want to put up a curtain at the entrance. I think that'll help it stay warmer in here. And I'm thinking about moving the bed to a different corner..."

He went on with a list of minor projects while Torus's mind fluctuated between being anxious he wouldn't be done in time to go with the others and wanting to go back to sleep.

He finished his peanut, then he and his father shared an apple and some wilted salad from the night before. After that they started working down the list of projects, with Torus either yawning or feeling a sudden icy twinge in his stomach that he had missed his chance and his friends had already left. And all the while his father talked to him about foraging and nest building and crazy things he had done when he was a pup and weird things Mr. Nile had told him and what the Chief was like before Torus was born. Torus did his best to pay attention, but after moving the bed twice his head was swimming. He was sure they had been working all night and now he had to go back to work in the tunnels without even having slept.

He had just realized this didn't make sense when Moki and the twins burst into the room from the tunnel outside. They had evidently been sitting still for far too long because they came in at a dead run and didn't slow down at all as they raced each other in a figure eight around Torus and his father.

"What's happening?" yelled his father over the commotion.

"I don't know, but it looks dangerous!" replied Torus.

"Well, let's each grab one and see if we can stop it," said his father. "Ready! Go!"

Torus lunged into the swirling mass of fur and came up with a little sister in his arms. His father had gotten hold of Moki by the tail, who swung around and crashed into Torus, while the other sister continued running and collided with him on the other side, which knocked him into his father. The end result was a big pile of rats in the middle of the floor with their father somewhere near the bottom.

"Hi Torus!" said Shona.

"Starving!" said Moki.

Nolki gave a heave and sent all the young rats flying in every direction as he stood up.

"Lunch is where lunch always is," he said. "How was your gathering?"

"I dunno," said Moki as he and the girls picked themselves up. "Boring and boringer."

"What was it about?" asked Torus. He had decided it was too much trouble to get up and was laying where he had tumbled.

"I dunno," said Moki again. "More boring."

"It was about Clan History," said Nosha. "We learned we're the best rats ever and we've always been here."

"Sounds about right," said his father. "At least the best rats ever part. That hasn't changed since I was a pup."

"Is it true, though?" asked Shona. "Have we always been here?"

"Well, I guess we've been here for as long as anybody knows about. But on the other hand, we didn't just spring out of the ground when the humans built the building. I mean ultimately everyone comes from somewhere else, right?"

"So where did we come from, if we're not from here?" asked Torus.

"Well, they used to tell stories about a legendary king of the rats way back in the past that lead all the rats here, not just to this building, but to all the buildings on the block. Supposedly all the clans were united under this king and they came when the buildings were new and there were no other rats there. I don't remember much more than that. They don't tell those stories much anymore..."

Torus rolled over and sat up, and was about to ask another question when a voice came down the entrance tunnel.

"Torus? Are you there?"

"He's down here, Nevi," called his father. "Come on in."

Nevi came in uncertainly and found Torus in the dim light.

"Hi, Torus. Are you...ready?" she asked with a quick glance at Nolki.

"Can I go, dad?" Torus asked. "We're almost done, right? And the pups can help you with the rest."

"You bet they can," said his father pleasantly. "You kids go have a nice time."

"Okay, thanks," said Torus, and he and Nevi headed out the door.

"Don't forget after dinner, though," called his father after them.

"I won't," Torus called back without turning his head. "I'll be back."

Once they were out in the tunnel Nevi asked, "What's after dinner?"

"I dunno, my dad wants to go foraging together. Maybe he's going to show me the secret family forage spots or something..."

"Maybe so..." said Nevi skeptically.

Torus didn't know how to interpret this so he changed the subject.

"So where's Chello?"

"I don't know. I didn't find him anywhere else, so I thought maybe he'd be at your place."

"Huh," said Torus. "He hasn't been over here. I though you two were hanging out all the time."

"Sometimes, yeah," said Nevi. "But not today. Maybe he's already there?"

"Maybe, but I doubt it." The turned into the tunnel that led to the broom closet where their path started. "More likely he's avoiding us because he doesn't want to go back. He didn't really like it the first time."

"No, he didn't" said a voice from up ahead of them. They entered the closet and found Chello sitting in the shadows, methodically rubbing the end of his knitting needle to a sharp point with a small, rough stone.

"It's about time you two showed up. I was starting to think I would have to go up there on my own."

Nevi was flustered and surprised by finding him there.

"Why would you go if you didn't like it?" she asked.

"I don't trust cats," he replied flatly, examining the point on his weapon. "I don't trust pigeons, or the Chief. I barely trust Nile or my family." He put down his needle and looked up at them.

"But I trust you guys. If you say we should go talk to the cat again to learn about pigeons, I'm willing to try it. If you get delayed and can't make it, the least I can do is go and tell the cat we'll try some other time. But here you are," he said, rising and grasping his weapon with both hands. "And here's my pigeon poker, which also works on pussy cats and pickle thieves. So let's go!"

With that, he turned and led the way down the path they had taken the day before. Nevi and Torus exchanged a puzzled glance and then scampered after him, rushing to keep up as he charged ahead.

They arrived panting at the vent in the cat's kitchen. Chello pounded on it with the blunt end of his knitting needle.

"Hey!" he shouted. "Big Round Cat! Your rats are here!"

Torus panicked a little.

"Shut up, you maniac!" he whispered tensely. "Do you want that human to hear you?"

"It won't hear me," said Chello bluntly. "It's gone. I saw it leave this morning from the front lookout."

"What were you doing at the front lookout?" asked Nevi.

"I was looking out," he replied flatly, and he banged on the vent again. "I recognized it's big, stupid feet. Hey!" he shouted again, banging. "Hey Cat!"

"He has a name," said Nevi.

"Yes," came a smooth voice from inside the kitchen. "He has a lovely name and he likes it very much when his friends use it." The cat sauntered fluffily into view and came slowly toward the vent.

"Great," said Chello. "When I see your friends I'll let them know."

Nevi gasped and Torus laughed in spite of himself. Even the cat seemed amused, although taken aback.

"So listen, Mr. Gumble, if that _is_ your real name," said Chello, "do we have to talk through your cage here? Or is there somewhere we can relax?"

"You talk too much," said the cat. "Yes, it's my 'real' name, or part of it. And I'm _quite_ relaxed, thank you very much. If you're uncomfortable, I guess that's your own problem with which to deal." And with that he sat down and started licking his paws and rubbing them over his whiskers.

There was an awkward pause, and then Nevi broke the silence.

"Please, Mr. Gumble. Don't mind Chello here. He forgets his manners when...well, when he's awake."

Chello scowled at her while Torus tried to remain neutral.

"But we'd really like to talk to you, and the vent here is so drafty..."

She trailed off and looked at the cat imploringly, who gazed back at her skeptically.

"Your big-eyed pleading skills need some work," he finally said. "It really doesn't suit you."

"It was worth a try," she muttered.

"I suppose," said the cat, and he gave his whiskers one final swipe. "And I suppose, if you _must_ come in..." He reached out with his claws and grasped one side of the vent. He pulled hard, and the vent slid partly out of its slot, open on one side like a door.

"Come in, come in," he said cheerily. "Don't touch anything, don't make a mess, and scamper out as quickly as you can the instant I say so."

The three young rats slipped out of the chilly duct into the relative warmth of the human's home.

"Hey," said Torus suddenly. "If that's a heater vent, how come there's no heat?"

"That heater hasn't worked for years. Mumsy says it's stopped for the whole floor. We have hot things that plug in the wall for heat now."

He led the way across the kitchen floor away from the vent. It was the first time Torus had been inside a human's home during daylight while the human still lived there and the wide space made him nervous. He looked at Chello and saw him glance back repeatedly at the open vent, gripping his weapon tightly. Only Nevi seemed calm, following the cat quietly and gazing around interestedly at the space around them.

"Interesting," she said. "It's so clean! No wonder this place isn't on the forage route. There's nothing to eat at all."

"True, true," said the cat. "And in addition, there's me, fearsome as I am, to keep the rats and mice away."

At the far side of the kitchen was a low, round basket, with a fluffy cushion and a small pillow. Mr. Gumble climbed into it and lay down on his side, curling his tail around in front.

"Step in," he invited them. "Plenty of room, cozy and warm. Perfect for an afternoon chat."

Nevi climbed in without hesitation, and Torus started to follow her, but then Chello spoke.

"I think my mom said something once about climbing into bed with a cat. Like, to not do it."

"Oh, come _on_ ' said Nevi, exasperated. "It's fine. Mr. Nile wouldn't have sent us here if it wasn't okay."

Chello grumbled something unintelligible and clambered into the basket between Torus and Nevi, still holding his needle.

"So!" said the cat, evidently delighted at having company. "Remind me what we're talking about."

"The pigeons," said Nevi. "Mr. Nile said you know about them?"

"Oh, yes, that's right. You're worried about the things that are going on between the pigeons and you rats here in the building... Yes, yes, yes..."

"So what is going on?" said Chello. "All you said yesterday was that something was Curious. What's curious?"

The cat paused, and seemed to be trying to figure out where to start.

"To begin with," he finally said, "you need to know that pigeons are not bad in and of themselves. Like any creature, there are nice ones, and ones not so nice. They don't think particularly highly of rats, but for the most part they bear them no ill will. And like any creature they go about their day doing what they do and trying to stay out of the way of bigger creatures. They're not really so different from you rats –"

"That's a lie!" snorted Chello. "We're totally different from nose to tail!"

"Well, we'll leave that alone for now," continued the cat. "The important thing to realize is that it's not necessarily the case that all pigeons are your enemies. Most of them would rather have nothing at all to do with rats."

"It's the same with rats, really," said Nevi. "We'd rather just leave the birds alone. So what's going on?"

"For some reason, I'm sure I don't know why, and will probably never know, there are certain pigeons that actively dislike rats, and see them as an obstacle to their success."

"What do you mean?" asked Torus.

"Well, you get your food from largely the same source, you live in more or less the same places. Some pigeons see that as a threat. It's not usually a problem. I'm sure there are some rats with similar feelings." The cat leveled his gaze at Chello, who shrugged innocently.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said.

"Anyway, for the most part things go on without much friction," Mr. Gumble continued. "But there's a certain pigeon--"

"The King?" said Torus, and the cat nodded.

"A certain pigeon that decided at some point that the balance was unacceptable, that the rats themselves were unacceptable. He has been working for some time I think to push the rats out of what he feels is the pigeons' rightful place."

"Wow," said Nevi.

"He hasn't been King for very long, less than a year, I think. The old king disappeared and Culucu somehow became king shortly after. He claims to be more than half dove, you know, and that carries some weight in their society."

"What, they just made him King because he's got some white splotches on him?" said Chello incredulously.

"That, and his reputation," said the cat. He paused, searching for the right phrase.

"He has a reputation for being ruthless in a fight, and willing to do anything for the flock. I don't know how true it is, but I know of at least one incident that he refers to when talking about his power."

The rats waited expectantly and the cat took a deep breath and continued.

"Several months – moons – ago, a young rat with a new family was patrolling out by the dumpster in the park, just about dusk. He was alone, since no one thought there was much danger, and he came upon a small group of pigeons picking over the remains of a sandwich.

"Now, the story has two different versions. In Culucu's version, the rat threatened the birds and attacked them without provocation. He had them nearly beaten when another pigeon – Culucu himself – came on the scene and rescued the birds by driving the rat back into the tunnel. The King uses this story to show what a threat rats are and to show how he can protect the flock." He paused and the rats sat in silence.

"Now, the rat tells it differently. He says he was merely passing by, that he gave them a wide berth as he went around them, and that the pigeons jumped on him from behind. He tried to escape back into the tunnel where he knew they couldn't follow him, but he was unable. Three of them held him down while the biggest pecked and clawed at him until he lost consciousness. Some of his comrades found him like that shortly afterward, without a pigeon in sight, and carried him home."

"Pathetic..." Chello muttered. He scowled, and avoided their eyes, jabbing his needle again and again into the side of the basket. "Can't fight off a stupid pigbird. Pathetic."

The others sat in silence for a moment, and then Nevi spoke to the cat.

"How do you know all this?"

"I have friends everywhere. Just like some young rats come to visit me in the kitchen, some pigeons come to see me at the window in the bedroom. One in particular is quite chatty, and we speak fairly often. She doesn't care for the way the King runs the flock, but, pigeon society being what it is, she can't talk to any of the other birds about it. So we sit by the cracked pane in the bottom corner of the window and talk. I don't know what I'll do if Mumsy ever fixes it. Or fastens down the heater vent, for that matter."

"How can you talk to pigeons?" muttered Chello sullenly. "How can you even understand them?"

"Cats can understand everybody," he replied haughtily. "Cats invented talking, you know, and all the other creatures learned it from us, so naturally I can understand anybody that speaks to me."

"What, even like dogs and stuff?" asked Torus.

"If a dog ever had anything worth saying, then yes, I could understand it perfectly."

"And humans," said Nevi, "those sounds they make. Is that talking too? Can you understand it?"

"Perfectly," replied the cat nonchalantly.

"So you must have told Mr. Nile about how they call pigeons 'flying rats,'" said Torus.

"Yes, that's what Mumsy says when they gather outside the windows," said the cat.

"That's insulting!" said Chello.

"No, it's delightful," said the cat. "She walks in and sees them there and screams 'AACK! Flying rats!' Then she rushes over at the window flapping her hands and screaming 'Shoo! Shoo! Get away you filthy creatures!' Then she flops down on the bed and collects herself. Delightful! I invite them here as often as I can."

"So, what would she do if she saw us here?" asked Nevi.

"She'd probably fall down in a faint and then call the exterminator," said the cat casually.

"That's ridiculous," said Chello, still agitated. "I don't believe cats 'invented' talking, anyway."

"Suit yourself," said the cat, turning to lick down a disheveled spot on his tail.

"How did you learn about that rat that got hurt?" asked Nevi.

"Nile told me," he replied, without looking up. "He came up here about a year ago looking for some medicine and bandages for a rat that had been badly injured. I was able to help him, courtesy of Mumsy's bathroom cabinet, but in exchange I made him tell me the story. I need to know everything that happens in my building, so I have people tell me. So he told me. That's all."

" _Your_ building?" said Nevi. "It's not _your_ building. I mean, it doesn't _belong_ to you..."

"It most certainly _does_ belong to me! _Every_ thing belongs to the cats. The whole _world_ belongs to the cats."

"But that's silly!" she said. "There's no – "

There was a sudden sound of keys in a lock.

"Oh my goodness!" said the cat, sitting up abruptly. "Mumsy's home early! Scamper away, my little friends, quickly, quickly, quickly!"

They bolted for the open vent, but Chello had to double back for his knitting needle and was just disappearing into the duct when the huge feet came clomping across the floor. Moving away from the light, they saw the feet approaching and heard the human's voice making the strange, warbling howls that Mr. Gumble said was their speech. One of the feet came right up to the open space and pushed the vent back into place. The last thing they heard as they disappeared down the duct was the cat's reply.

"I don't know Mumsy, it just pops open like that sometimes..."

* * *

Chapter Sixteen

They were late for the forage. The Chief had revoked all forage exemptions for juniors, so Chello and Nevi had to go out as well.

"Let's meet up at Nile's after, okay?" Nevi said as the stopped in front of Chello's den. "We should tell him what we heard."

"Yeah, whatever," Chello grumbled as he turned to go in.

A voice came from inside that Torus recognized as Chello's father.

"Chello? Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me," said Chello as he disappeared into the tunnel. "Who else?"

"I thought you were supposed to be at the forage tonight."

"That's where I'm going, okay? I just had to drop off some stuff, cheese!"

Torus and Nevi exchanged an awkward glance and moved away from the sounds of a growing argument.

"So we'll meet at Mr. Nile's, okay?" Nevi said.

"Sure, I guess so," he replied.

"Good," she said. "Come up right after. We won't be too late and you can get home on time." She turned and headed off in a different direction, leaving Torus standing at the intersection of two empty tunnels, with the silence and the comfortable darkness stretching out in every direction. He stayed for a moment, enjoying the stillness, and the simplicity of it.

Then he remembered he was supposed to have met his father to forage before the real forage started.

"Scat," he muttered to himself. Well, he'd have explain that later.

He turned and ran down the tunnel that led to the big, newly improved tunnel that wound out of the building, under the sidewalk and the street to the dumpster in the park to catch up with his foraging team.

He knew the tunnel well, from his months of work there, and was able to skitter lightly around each turn without any problem. He could smell the recent passage of his team, but couldn't hear them up ahead, so he had no idea how far behind he might be. Hopefully he could slip up and join the group without attracting much attention from the forage leader. He suddenly remembered, with a little lurch in his stomach, that it had been his turn at forage leader that night, so there was no chance his absence would not be noticed. Well, worse things had happened. He could always make some excuse about helping someone build something and that made him late.

He passed the two empty sledges the team had brought, and, still planning his excuse, poked his head out the hole at the far end of the tunnel. It came up between the roots of a huge old tree that stood next to a cinderblock wall. On the other side of the wall was the dumpster, surrounded on three sides by the block wall, and nearly hidden in the late evening shadows. Torus crept around the wall, keeping an eye out for any humans or dogs and moved toward the piles of garbage that surrounded the overflowing dumpster. The park was filled with small garbage cans, and humans in orange coverings pulled plastic bags of trash from them and piled them in and around the dumpster every day or so, but the dumpster itself was only rarely emptied. Torus's father had once told him the rats should sing a song of thanks to the orange humans that did all that work for them. Torus wasn't sure if he was joking or not until he started singing:

Oh, giant humans,

Thank you for all your garbage

Oh, giant humans

Without you there would be starvage

We're glad you're so big and orange

We thank you while we forange

Torus had rolled his eyes at the time, but the song stuck in his head, and now he hummed it quietly while he crept over the piles, keeping one eye open for his team and the other open for any promising food items.

He found a french fry that was too small to carry easily, so he ate it. Then, under a piece of newspaper, he found a thick piece of bread that was practically half his size. It had been part of a sandwich, and still had some mayonnaise and the faintest trace aroma of pickles. His whiskers twitched as he nosed it, trying to work out the best way to pick it up and get it back to the tunnel where the sledge was waiting. Then he was startled by a strange voice from above his head.

"No! Rat no!"

He looked up and saw two dark shapes on the top of the wall silhouetted against the faint light in the darkening sky. They were pigeons, and they cocked their heads and walked across the top of the wall until they were directly overhead.

"Bread leave. Leave. Bread bread pigeon!" And one of the birds reared back and fluttered its wings before folding them back smoothly and crouching down to gaze at Torus.

He looked up at them uncertainly. He had never spoken to the birds before, although he had almost gotten used to seeing them fluttering around during the early hours of the forage.

"This is our time to forage," he called up finally. "Rat time." He wasn't sure how to phrase things so they would understand.

"Rat no! Bread leave leave!" Said one of the birds, shaking its wings again, but more forcefully. There was a sharp edge to its voice he had never heard before, an angry, shrill, almost hysterical sound that made the hair along his spine stand up. He wished he had found his team before finding the bread. He clutched it and called up to them again, fighting to keep his voice level.

"No! Rat time! My bread!" He thought he sounded ridiculous and was glad he hadn't found his team, when the suddenly pigeons screamed and drove all other thoughts from his mind.

"Culuuu!" they cried, leaping off the top of the wall and diving down upon him with their wings clattering. There was a clenching icy feeling in his chest, and he stood frozen in place as they descended toward him with their wings flapping wildly and their claws outstretched. He stared at their sharp beaks, open and screeching, and their blank, yellow eyes. He tried to breath. As they drew close he felt forceful puffs of air striking him like blows from their wings, and as they flew into his face, his mind went gray and the bread slipped from his claws.

The next thing he knew he was away from the dumpster and around the wall, running at full speed toward the tunnel at the base of the tree. He bolted into the comforting darkness and immediately slammed into an unexpected turn, where he stopped and lay gasping for breath and trying to understand what had happened.

His heartbeat was pounding in his ears so hard he couldn't think, his tail was thrashing and his claws were working the floor of the tunnel convulsively. He unclenched his teeth and shook his head, his eyes wide open in the near total darkness. Gradually, he was able to calm down enough to smooth the hair on his back and breathe without shaking, and then he heard voices deeper down the tunnel.

He realized it was his team, in the process of loading food onto the sledge. He edged forward until he could make out their shapes and watched them for a short time. Arkon had apparently been made temporary leader in Torus's absence, and was doing a good job of organizing the items they had gathered so far. One sledge was nearly full and the other partly so. The team would need to go back out to the dumpster to gather more to make the trip worthwhile. Torus was still standing in silence, wondering what to do when the team suddenly turned and headed toward him.

"Oh, hi, Torus," said Arkon. "Where did you come from?"

Torus shrugged and managed to say "Late," before looking away from their questioning eyes.

"Well, that's fine. Come on back out and help us finish up the load and we can get back early tonight. Lots of great garbage tonight, right team?"

There were one or two non-committal grunts from the rest of the team and they filed past Torus in the tunnel headed back outside. He only hesitated a moment before following them. He had no desire to be stuck outside alone again that night. He stuck close to the group and shuddered a little as they approached the area where the pigeons had flown down on him. But there was no sign of them, or the bread, and Torus remained silent.

The rest of the shift was uneventful. They gathered more food and filled both the sledges. Then they headed back to the building, with Arkon leading the way, two rats pulling and one rat pushing each sledge, and one rat – Torus – bringing up the rear to gather any food that fell from the sledges. Back in the building they made their way to the Clan Stockpile in a space the rats had dug out behind a hole in the basement wall.

They were nearly last team to return, since their forage area was so far away. They helped the stock-keepers sort the food. Items that would keep well were stored in one pile, things that might spoil sooner were put in another, and everything else was put in a third pile to be distributed that night.

Torus retrieved his pouch from a nail on one wall and waited in line to get his share of the food, listening to the usual after-forage chatter.

"We found a big piece of meat! It was too big to carry, so we just ate some and left it."

I couldn't bring back much this time. I think the humans in my area have gone away."

"I heard someone found some chocolate! I hope we get some."

"Nah, all the chocolate always goes to the Chief and his crowd, you know that."

"Shhh! Not so loud, you'll get in trouble!"

Torus shuffled along patiently in line, trying to get the vision of flapping wings and snapping beaks out of his mind. He still felt foggy and confused from the event. He didn't understand why he couldn't remember actually turning to run away, why he had totally blanked out.

After his pouch was filled, he hefted it and thought if felt a little light.

"Is this all?" he asked the stock keeper. "We've got little ones at home."

"You've also got two foragers at home. This is plenty."

Torus didn't have the mind to argue.

"Sure," he said. "Okay." He slung the pouch onto his back and headed for home.

Once he got there, he found his father already unloading a pouch into the food nook.

"Hey, Dad, I'm sorry about missing – " he started, and then noticed something was missing.

"Where's the sledge?" he asked.

"It got, um, donated to the greater good," said his father, with just a trace of mischief.

"What does that mean?" asked Torus tiredly. He was in no mood to deal with his father's word games.

"It means that my forage team is now using the sledge so we can load it fuller and pull it farther and get more food into the building for everyone."

"But it's ours! We built it! It's better than any other sledge around."

"True, but with a whole team using it, rather than just me, we get more food, the team does better than any other team, and who knows, maybe they make me permanent forage leader!"

Torus was unconvinced.

"But we _made_ it, _we_ should be the ones to use it."

"Torus, there's nothing wrong with using what we have or what we've made to help out the rest of the clan. What about all those little sledges you've been building for the neighbors? The ones that can't pull a full sized sledge for whatever reason?"

"That's different, that's my job. This was _our_ sledge."

"So we'll build another one. A better one. I've seen the things you're making for other rats. I'll bet you could make us a sledge that could carry ten rats and slide across the ground like butter!"

Torus smiled grumpily.

"At least they're letting you keep it on your team rather than 'donating' it to the Chief's team."

"That's just it," said his father excitedly. "My team got promoted! We _are_ the Chief's team now! After we get back, the stock keepers load up our sledges with the Chief's supplies and we take it up. We deliver it right to the advisors themselves! They just announced it tonight. Anaka turned green!"

Torus looked puzzled.

"Anaka is Nevi's mom," his father explained.

"I know who she is," said Torus. "Why did she turn green?"

"Oh, because her team was the Chief's main team before. But I guess their returns have been falling off lately, and we've been doing really well since that big family of humans moved into our area. So we got the job. Great!"

Torus couldn't remember seeing his father so excited.

"And besides," he continued, "there are other perks to being the Chief's main supply team." He became suddenly sly and mysterious and picked up his nearly empty pouch. "I have here," he said, reaching inside, "a piece of chocolate, and," reaching inside again and drawing his hand slowly out, "a... _whole_...pickle!"

Torus's jaw dropped. There, indeed, in his father's hand, was a whole dill pickle, as long as his father's arm. He suddenly realized he was starving.

"Can we...eat it?" he asked, without much hope.

His father smiled and broke the pickle in half.

"The pups are asleep. I don't think it'll keep until they wake up..."

Torus sat down to eat his half without even unloading his pouch. The pickle was so sour it almost made his eyes water. After the troubling events of the evening the pickle was the perfect thing to improve his mood.

"If this keeps up, I'll build your team a whole fleet of sledges. You'll be the most famous foragers in the Clan."

"I could probably get you on the team, when there's an opening," said his father. "I'm the new leader until some Advisor changes his mind. Then you could really take credit for the sledges you build and the highest levels of the Clan would notice. Pretty good exposure for a young rat." They ate for a moment in silence.

"I might have gotten you on the team tonight," his father continued, "if you'd showed up after dinner like we planned."

"Yeah, sorry, I got...distracted, I guess," Torus said.

"Well, next time, maybe," his father said around a mouthful of pickle. "I feel kind of bad for Anaka, though. It's not her fault the humans left her area. Maybe I'll try to get her on the team, too. When there's an opening, I mean..." He swallowed a particularly large bite. "Oh, speaking of Nevi, she came by just before you got here. Wondering if you were going to 'meet' later. Are you going to 'meet' Nevi?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess so," Torus said, uncertainly. "I mean, we talked about it earlier and..."

"Okay that's fine. That's great, you go ahead and go. I'll unpack your pouch for you."

"Okay, thanks," said Torus taking his last bite of pickle, and wishing his father would stop staring at him with that stupid grin. "It's just a bunch of us getting together. To...hang out. I'll see you later..." and he headed out the door, hoping his father wouldn't say anything else.

"Okay, later," his father called. "She's cute, though, right?"

Torus hollered back without turning his head.

"All rats are cute, Dad. It's what sets us apart from the other creatures."

Then he ran off down the tunnel before he could hear anything else his father said.

After the strange events of the night, and the strange conversation with his father, running felt good. Energized by the pickle, and burning off the stress of the evening, he ran all the way to Mr. Nile's home and arrived with a crash, panting and half laughing as he flopped down on his side in the middle of the floor.

"My word!" said Flinka, eyeing his disheveled fur. Nevi was there, too, along with Chello, Arkon, and Juke. Arkon was pulling the pretzel bag out into the room, and everyone else was gathered around the open space.

"Where's Mr. Nile?" asked Torus, sitting up.

"Over here, Torus," came a weak voice. Mr. Nile was laying in his bed, under a piece of cloth. Torus walked over to him with a question in his eyes.

"Oh, I'm alright, I suppose. I just feel quite chilled and weak. I want to hear what you have learned, but I feel much more comfortable here, so if you don't mind..."

"No, that's fine, you stay there if you're comfortable. Do you want me to work the...the warmth fan thingy while we talk?"

"Yes, if you like, that would be fine. The human isn't baking right now, but there is a little warmth from the pilot light that might help."

Torus found a spot where he could work the fan easily and still be part of the conversation. He began tugging the string rhythmically and slightly warm puffs of air began to wash over the small crowd.

Nevi related their visits to the cat, with interjections from Chello.

Flinka said "I cannot believe you actually sat down and talked to a cat!" She addressed the crowd at large, "Would you do that?"

Juke said "I might," but Arkon shook his head vigorously from side to side.

"That cat's just a ball of puff," said Chello. "It couldn't catch anybody."

Nevi continued telling the story, and Chello continued interrupting, until she told them about the rat that had gotten attacked by the birds. Then he just repeated what he had said before.

"Pathetic."

There was silence. Nevi looked at Chello and Chello looked at the ground. Finally she said, "Chello, don't. I mean, that was...your dad, right?"

Chello shrugged.

"So what if it is?"

"Well...I mean..." Nevi faltered.

"He was supposed to be this big Patrol rat," Chello said, with brittle calm. "He was supposed to be in line for Patrol Commander, and then what happens? He gets beat up by a couple of birds, and Poof! It's all over. P. C. Chello, with one eye, afraid to leave the house. Pathetic."

"Chello, stop it!" said Nevi, with pain in her voice.

Chello just grunted.

"You don't know what they're like," said Torus, as much to his surprise as anyone else's. The other rats all looked at him questioningly. "When they attack, I mean. You don't know what it's like."

He faltered a little, but with prodding from Nevi and Mr. Nile he told what had happened to him that evening at the dumpster.

"When they come flapping down at you like that, they don't look so ridiculous any more. They look huge and crazy. It's pretty intense..."

"What did you do?" asked Arkon.

"I, uh, I just backed away," said Torus. Then they took the bread and left. Then I turned around and came in the tunnel and met you. So I guess I'm pathetic too..." He pulled hard on the string and felt a gust of air wash over him.

"At least you had sense to leave," said Chello. "At least you didn't get caught."

Mr. Nile spoke up from his bed.

"A rat who is out collecting food for his family has more to risk than just his pride," he said softly.

That seemed to set something off in Chello.

"Stupid birds!" he cried. "Stupid scat-stinking birds! We should attack them! We should drive them away from our dumpster and make them pay for what they've done, what they're doing to the Clan!"

"Yes!" said Juke bluntly.

"Really?" said Arkon nervously.

"No way," said Flinka.

"But they can fly," said Nevi. "How would you – "

"That's their _only_ advantage!" said Chello. "We're smarter, we have weapons, we're better organized...we could totally do this!" There was a wild light in his eye.

Torus pulled the string again, felt another puff of air and had the beginning of an idea.

Flinka turned toward him and smoothed down a patch of fur on her back that the breeze had ruffled.

"Can you stop it with that please?" she plaintively. "It's not helping."

Torus didn't hear her. He pulled again, quite hard and the rush of air ruffled the fur of every rat in the room.

"Why can't we fly?" he asked no one in particular.

"Because we don't have wings, you dope," said Chello.

"But we could make wings, right? We make sledges, we make weapons, why not wings?" He pulled on the string and the wave of warm air flowed through the room again. All the rats' eyes were fixed on him and a slow smile spread across Mr. Nile's tired face.

"What if we did? Humans call _them_ flying rats, but what if we really could? They don't have any weapons other than their claws and beaks. If we could fly _and_ use our weapons they could never beat us!"

Chello stared at him and walked up slowly until they were nose to nose. He squinted at him and said, challengingly, "Can you do it?"

"I don't know," said Torus, still inflamed with the idea. "I bet I could figure it out."

"I'll bet you can, too," said Mr. Nile. He was sitting up, still weak, but bright-eyed. "But if you want help, I think I can send you in the right direction."

"What, another 'friend' of yours in the building," asked Chello, skeptically.

"Not a friend, exactly, but an acquaintance," said Mr. Nile. "And not in the building, either. I usually meet him on the roof."

There was a tense silence as some of the rats began to understand what Mr. Nile was suggesting.

"If you want to learn about something," he said, "you must go to someone who knows it best. If you want to learn about flight..." He looked Torus directly in the eye. "You should go and talk to the hawk."

* * *

Chapter Seventeen

The next day work was cancelled for an emergency gathering. The food shortage was becoming dangerous, said the advisors. Many members of the Clan were at risk of hunger, or even starvation. Extra work would be required to ensure the Clan stockpiles were sufficient to the need.

"Henceforth," said Nogolo, "all forage exemptions are suspended until further notice." There was some scattered grumbling at this remark, but the look on some other rats' faces suggested they thought the idea had come none too soon.

"And also," he continued, "to maximize the efficiency of the forage teams, all remaining sledges will be donated to the Clan for the Greater Good."

"You see," Nolki whispered to Torus. "The Greater Good strikes again!"

"It doesn't look like the Chief or any of his circle are in any danger of starvation," Torus replied, and his father suppressed a smile.

"Finally," Nogolo continued, "All families are now expected to contribute a fair portion of that which they forage on their own time." This statement provoked a more widespread and general outcry.

"Our personal foraging time?" called out a rat Torus didn't know. "That's never been done!"

"Difficult times require firm action," replied Nogolo. "The clan as a whole supports its less fortunate members with the Stockpile. Surely you wouldn't begrudge your neighbors the food they need to survive this winter?"

The rat didn't answer, but before Nogolo could continue, another voice shouted "I thought things were supposed to be better since we started working with those birds."

"Things are indeed better than they might be," said Nogolo. "Our analysis indicates that there would be far less food in the dumpster now if the pigeons weren't patrolling it for our mutual benefit during the day. Don't you see, friends? It is only through this kind of cooperation that we can hope to survive these hard times, and then thrive when things get better. And things will get better, I assure you. The rats of the Acme Apartment Hotel have come through any number of challenging situations, and this is no different. These measures we take now will ensure our success in the future."

The Chief, who, up to this point had simply been standing beside Nogolo and nodding authoritatively, said, "Hear hear!" Nogolo stepped respectfully aside and gestured for the Chief to continue.

"Absolutely," he said. "Success in the future! Cooperation! Those less fortunate. Exactly." He stopped, and gazed pleasantly out into the crowd.

Before the pause could become too awkward, Nogolo stepped forward and said, "Thank you for that endorsement, your Honor. I know the Clan will benefit from your wisdom." Then, addressing the crowd again, he continued, "If we will agree to shoulder these difficulties together now, we will emerge stronger in the spring. The small sacrifice we ask now may mean the difference between life and death for some of us." There was a murmur of grudging agreement as the assembled rats, sensing that the gathering was at an end, began stirring from their places.

"Thank you, friends, thank you," said Nogolo, over the rising noise. "I know it's difficult. And, to make things easier, we will be sending the Patrol around periodically with the sledges to gather your donations. There will be no need to carry anything yourselves to the stockpile."

"Stockpile," called the Chief. "Thank you!"

Torus had only paid half attention to the gathering. His mind was occupied with the idea of flying. The day before he had been almost wildly excited about the possibility. Now, although he still felt a little surge of excitement at the thought, his mind had turned to the familiar methodical planning that accompanied his building projects. He thought of the different types of cardboard he could come by, imagined different ways of fastening it to his arms, speculated about what shapes might be most effective at pushing against the air. He was still lost in thought, waiting to shuffle out with the rest of the crowd when Nevi came up beside him.

"Hey, Torus," she said, a little more loudly than normal. "A bunch of us are going to go hang out. You should come hang out with us." And she looked at him expectantly.

"Hi, Nevi," he replied uncertainly. "I, uh, I don't know, I have some things to work on and..."

Nevi laughed artificially.

"Ha ha ha, you're so funny, working so hard all the time. You need to have some fun. We're just hanging _out_. You should come hang _out_ with us. It'll be _fun_." She looked at him pointedly and said the word "fun" like it was the most important thing they would do all day.

Torus suddenly understood.

"Oh! Okay. Yeah, fun! Let's go _hang out_!" He looked around to make sure no one was paying any attention. "Where are we going?"

"Oh, nowhere, just _hanging out_. You know..." Nevi gave up and whispered "Follow me," and cut through the crowd. Torus followed her out of the room and into a side tunnel with just a few other rats making their ways home.

"Cheese, that was awkward," Nevi said. "We need a secret code word or something when we get the team together."

"Yeah, you were about as subtle as – wait a second... Team? What team?"

"The Pigeon-Attacking, Clan-Liberating, Dumpster-Raiding, Flying Rat Team, that's what. What did you think?"

"I dunno, I just thought you had some food or something..."

He followed Nevi to her "place," the vacant apartment where they had first seen Nogolo talking to the pigeons outside. Arkon was already there, along with Juke and Flinka. Torus was still greeting everyone when Chello came in, followed by his older brother Pryus. He was older than Chello by a few moons, a little taller and quite a bit broader. Where Chello was light a quick, Pryus seemed solid and forceful, an appearance which belied his reputation for mischief and getting into trouble.

"Oh, hi Pryus," said Nevi, seeming a little flustered. "I...I didn't know you were coming."

"Yeah, the kid here tried to keep me away, but once I learned you were here I knew I had to come to keep him out of trouble."

He and Chello both laughed and Nevi's ears turned pink.

"I told him he could come along if he keeps it a secret," said Chello. "He hates pigbirds even more than I do."

"Okay, great," said Nevi, without much conviction. "We really need to be careful about who we tell, though, okay?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," said Chello carelessly. "So what's the plan? Attack at sundown? I've got Sticker!" He held up his sharpened knitting needle and shook it menacingly at the crowd in general.

"Whatever, kid," said Pryus. "What you really need is a good big hitting stick."

"I have a stick," said Juke, suddenly. "A big one."

"I'll bet you do," said Pryus without a trace of sarcasm on his face.

"Listen," said Nevi, "I know you're all mighty fighters, and we can sit here and talk about the relative merits of poking and hitting all day, but what we really need is a plan. Does anyone have any real ideas?"

Chello spoke up.

"I've been thinking about what happened with Torus the other day at the dumpster, and I think I have an idea."

He went on to describe his plan. The team would go to the dumpster at dusk and act like a normal foraging team, but with their weapons hidden. They would split off individually and wait for one of them to be attacked by the birds from the wall, just as Torus had. This time, though, the rest of the team would be ready, and would rush into the fight and chase the pigeons off.

"First they ambush us, right? And then we ambush them. That works, right?"

"How do you know they'll attack us?" said Arkon, nervously.

"They attacked Torus, right?" said Chello. "Just like they attacked my dad. They'll do it."

Pryus disagreed with his brother's strategy, and said they should just go to the alley right away and pull all the feathers off the first pigeon they saw, but Juke said, "I think Chello's a good plan. I'll bring my stick."

"So, Nevi and Flinka, you have to come, because if the birds see females on the team they'll think it's just a normal foraging team and they won't be suspicious," Chello continued. "But don't worry, you won't have to fight."

"I guess not," said Flinka, definitely. "I don't even fight with my brothers."

"I can fight if I need to," said Nevi, her ears a different shade of pink.

Torus suddenly thought back to the pigeons attack on him, remembering their cold eyes and the force of their wings, and the strange blackness that swallowed his mind.

"I don't know," he said to Chello. "Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, we could get hurt, or get in trouble with the Clan..."

Chello looked at him and stepped slowly in his direction.

"We agreed to this. We're all here for the same reason. Don't be weak now. Remember we're doing this for the Clan, whether they would want us to or not. Your fat cat friend told us what was going on. The birds are trying to take over our dumpster! Food is already scarce and winter has hardly started. The Patrol won't stop them, the Chief's circle won't stop them. _We_ have to stop them."

He was nose to nose with Torus now, more serious than Torus could ever remember him.

"Don't back out now. The only way out is forward."

Torus paused.

"Okay," he said. He was still very uncomfortable with the idea, but he had to support his friend. "Okay, let's do it."

"Good," said Chello, turning away. "Let's do it tonight."

"No, there's too many real foragers out tonight. We need to wait for the next rest day," said Arkon. "That's three days."

Torus felt a little wave of relief and relaxed.

"Well, that gives us plenty of time to plan," he said. "Plus maybe we can go visit the hawk in the meantime."

"Visit the what?" cried Pryus incredulously. He turned to Chello. "You didn't say anything about visiting the hawk."

"No, we're not visiting the hawk," said Chello hastily. "That's just some crazy idea crazy old Nile put into his head."

"Good thing," said Pryus. "It's one thing to jump a bird that eats garbage, but to 'visit' a bird that eats rats? On purpose? Crazy!"

"No, we're really going," Torus interrupted. "At least I am." Until that moment he had been questioning whether to go through with it, but something about Pryus's tone made him make up his mind. "I think we can figure it out, and I think the hawk can help us. And if we can, it might be just the advantage we need to turn things around."

"Figure what out?" said Pryus. "What advantage?"

"Nothing," said Chello hastily trying to change the subject.

But Arkon said brightly, "Torus is going to figure out how to fly!"

There was a strained silence as Pryus tried to decide whether to laugh or not. Finally he said, "Good. Good plan." He looked at Chello and then turned to leave.

"Let me know how that goes for you. I'll be down in the alley learning to drive a car..."

"No," said Torus, frustrated. "I'm not going to fly, we're going to build a _machine_ that will fly. Like the sledges and all the other things we build. Look!"

He picked up a scrap of cardboard from the floor and tossed it with a flick of his wrist. It sailed through the air over Pryus's head and landed halfway across the room.

"How hard can it be if pigeons can do it? We just have the build the right kind of thing and then we can meet them in their own space. We take their advantage away and there's no way they can push us around anymore."

"Cool!" said Arkon.

"Crazy," said Pryus, after a pause. "But I'll come along to help pick up the pieces."

"Great," said Torus, becoming excited again. "So first we go see the hawk, and then I'll start building – "

"Now, wait," said Chello. "I don't understand why we need to go mess with the hawk."

"Have you ever seen him fly?" asked Arkon excitedly. "He's amazing! He catches pigeons in mid-air!"

"Exacly," said Torus. "If anyone can teach us to fly better than the pigeons it's him."

Chello was unconvinced.

"Why would he help us? He eats rats!"

"Well, he's Nile's friend, maybe he'll leave us alone and just answer our questions," said Torus uncertainly.

"Are you sure Nile's his friend?" said Pryus. "How is that even possible? Why would Nile make friends with someone that eats his neighbors?"

Torus didn't have an answer for that. Mr. Nile hadn't explained very much before they had to leave last time they talked.

"He goes on the roof all the time," said Torus. "Mr. Nile does, I mean, to mark the moon. I never thought about it before, but he must talk to the hawk then..."

"And he's got friends in all kinds of places we don't expect," Nevi added. "I mean, who would have expected he'd be friends with a cat and that the cat would actually help him get supplies he needed? Maybe Mr. Nile brings the hawk something he wants or needs, so he doesn't bother him."

"And Mr. Nile goes up at night, or at least at dusk and dawn. I think the hawk is mostly active in the light, right? So in the dark maybe it's not such a problem?" Arkon offered uncertainly.

"But he _eats_ _rats_ ," said Chello, pointedly. "Rats like us. You're a rat, remember?" He faced Torus. "To the hawk you're just dinner!"

"I want to fly," said Torus. "I want to figure it out. The hawk flies ten times better than the pigeons and Mr. Nile says he can help me." He paused and gazed steadily at his friend. "So I'm going up."

Chello looked skeptically at Torus.

"I still think it sounds crazy," he said. "But if you're willing to help us jump them at the dumpster then I guess I'm willing to go up to the roof with you."

"Great!" said Torus. "I think if a bunch of us go and take some weapons maybe he won't jump at us before we get a chance to explain who we are and what we want. Arkon? Juke? Pryus? Does that sound okay?"

Arkon's enthusiasm seemed to wane and his ears drooped a little, but he said, "Sure, I'll come along. I can probably find a stick or something..."

"Yeah, I'll come," said Pryus, casually. "I mean, he can't eat us all at once, right?"

Flinka rolled her eyes.

"I think this whole thing is crazy. If the Clan finds out, or even if our parents find out, we're all going to wind up in big trouble!"

Nevi eyed her narrowly.

"Then I guess it would be best if the Clan didn't hear anything about it, wouldn't it."

"Yeah," Flinka said, edging nervously toward Juke. "That's...that's what I meant..."

"I think it's a good plan," said Juke, apparently unaware of Flinka clinging to his arm. "I'll bring my stick."

* * *

Chapter Eighteen

Later that day, shortly before the dusk forage was to begin, the young rats picked their way carefully up to the top of the building, six floors from the level of the street. None of them, not even Nevi, had ever been there, and they kept together in a close group, creeping along the route Mr. Nile had described to them. For the last two floors they were winding their way up the rear wall of the building, inside the wooden frame that was attached to the crumbling old bricks. Torus led the way, with Chello once again trailing behind.

"This is stupid," he said. "Why are we doing this stupid thing?"

"You said it, little brother," said Pryus, interrupting the now-familiar monologue. "I mean, you really said it already, like a thousand times!"

Flinka giggled nervously and Nevi said "Hush!"

Torus stopped at the bottom of a broken vent pipe and they gathered around him.

"Okay," he said. "If this is the right pipe, it goes right up to the roof frame and then there are several different spaces we can check out to get to the outside."

They looked at one another but said nothing.

"So remember," he continued, "when we get up there, be careful. Look before you go out, and try not to attract any attention until we're all up. We don't want him to notice us until we're a big enough group he won't want to attack us."

The others nodded silently. He turned and slipped into the pipe through a rusty hole in the side, followed by the rest of the team. It was a tight fit, much smaller than the heating duct that led to the cat's home. Torus managed to scrabble up with only a little difficulty, but Juke and Pryus both had to struggle to get through.

Chello was still in the rear. His light frame let him climb up without any trouble at all and he jabbed at his brother's rear end with the blunt end of his knitting needle.

"Hurry up, you pipe plug!" he whispered. "That hawk'll die of boredom waiting for you."

"If I could turn around I'd kill you," said Pryus without much humor.

"Shhh!" hissed Torus from above. "We're almost there."

A few moments later they emerged from a second hole in the pipe into the wooden frame that supported the roof. The roofing material itself had crumbled around the pipe and through it they could feel the sharp winter breeze and see a small patch of the late evening sky. Around them in the darkness they could see faint shafts of light from a dozen or more similar holes at varying distances from them.

Torus gathered them around him with silent gestures and held a claw to his lips. He pointed to each of them in turn and then toward one of the closer pools of light. The headed off individually and then waited beneath their assigned holes. Once they were all in place, Torus pointed up and then back down and they all nodded, except Chello, who mouthed 'This is stupid' silently.

Torus nodded and mouthed 'I know."

At Torus's signal they all climbed carefully up into their holes and peeked out, seeing as much as they could without exposing more than the tips of their noses. Torus climbed up the hole alongside the vent pipe they had climbed and peered into the frosty air. The cold breeze made his nose twitch, and for a second he was afraid he would sneeze. He looked out across the flat surface of the roof, and swept his eyes across the dirty, cracked tar. Nothing was distinct in the fading light. He saw no sign of the hawk, just scattered piles of loose trash and leaves. Several pipes jutted up from the roof, and he briefly saw the tips of a rat's ears rise above a crack in the surface. In the middle of the roof was a large, brick chimney that blocked much of his view.

He carefully pulled his head in and backed down the hole. Nevi came down at the same time, glanced over at him and shook her head No. Juke came down next and gave his head a single shake. Flinka was trembling as she emerged from her hole and looked like she might start crying, but she shook her head No and looked at the floor. Chello and Pryus lowered themselves at the same time and both gave the same disappointed thumbs-down. Torus wondered whether they were too early, if the hawk was still hunting. If so, they would have to wait down in the darkness. Mr. Nile had told them not to be caught on the roof when the hawk was flying. He would descend silently and fast as lightening and they would be taken before they even knew he was there.

Finally Arkon came down. The hair along his spine was standing up straight, and his eyes were wide. Torus looked at him questioningly and he nodded, pointing to a direction away from all their spy holes. Torus gathered them all together and then whispered to them as quietly as possible.

"We climb up this hole here and gather on the far side of the big chimney." He looked from one to another and they nodded their heads. Then he turned and led the way up.

The surface of the roof was black and rumpled, and covered with small cracks. There were scattered piles of rubbish everywhere, and Torus tried not to think about the small, white shapes jumbled among the ragged leaves and shredded papers.

Once they were all on the surface of the roof, he moved as quickly and quietly as possible to the shelter of the chimney. If Arkon was right, the hawk would be on the other side and they would be shielded from his view until they were ready to approach him.

On the wide roof, with nothing over him but the fading sky, Torus felt more exposed than he had ever felt in his life. Inside the building he was always in an enclosed place. Even in the alleyway, or at one of the dumpsters there were walls close by and easy access to safe holes. Here, except for the bricks of the chimney, there was nothing at all between him and the sky. It was just after sunset and the sky in the west was a dingy yellow, fading to gray-green overhead, to blue-black in the east. There was a pearly sheen to the eastern horizon and the first silver glimmer of the moon showed itself in the distance. With a shock, he realized those small shapes so far away were buildings just like his, hundreds of them stretching away as far as he could see. The sudden awareness of so much space made his heart race. He fought the urge to race back to the hole and waited for the others.

Nevi joined him, followed by Chello and the rest, with Arkon coming last. Chello had his knitting needle, Juke had his big stick, and Arkon had a smaller stick with a rusty nail held on with tape. None of the rest had anything at all. Torus suddenly thought they must look pathetic. Seven rats, barely grown, with three ridiculous weapons about to confront a huge predator in a wide flat space under the wide open sky.

"This is stupid," he whispered. Chello grinned and gave him a thumbs-up.

Torus resigned himself and led the little band away. They rounded the first corner of the chimney and saw nothing. As he led the way along the bricks of the second side, Torus wondered what he should be looking for. He had only seen the bird once, as a speck in the sky, and suddenly realized he didn't know what to expect. As he rounded the next corner, though, he stopped wondering, for there, on the edge of the building with his back to them, gazing out at the sunset, was the hawk.

Torus kept still and gazed for a moment. The bird looked bigger than he had expected, bigger than even a big cat, with smooth feathers that looked black in the semi-darkness and a wide triangular tail. It sat without moving as Torus and the team edged slightly closer. When they were within calling distance, but still fairly close to the chimney Torus called out as Mr. Nile had instructed.

"Greetings, Skeerin, from Nile and friends of Nile." His voice sounded tiny in the cold, thin air, and he thought at first the bird had not heard him. He was trying to decide whether to call again or run away when there was a reply.

"What is there?" The hawk spoke in a low, clear voice without turning around to face them. The sound of his voice gave Torus a strange, chilled feeling, and he felt slightly confused. He struggled to remember what Mr. Nile had told him about addressing the bird.

"Rats," he stammered, "oh, Powerful Skeerin. Friends of Nile's, as I said." There was a long pause, and Torus was suddenly worried he had come to the wrong roof and met the wrong hawk. "Nile is your friend as well, is he not?" he asked.

There was another pause, and the rats exchanged nervous glances.

"The Nile is not," came the answer at last, and Torus gasped and held his breath.

"I have few friends," the hawk continued. "None are rats. The Nile is...tolerable."

He remained silent, and after a moment, although the chill was seeping into Torus's bones, the cold breeze cleared his head a little and he remembered more of the words Mr. Nile had given him.

"Nile praises your wisdom," he said, "and sends you wishes for clear light and good hunting."

The bird remained silent, but Torus waited. He was beginning to understand the pattern of the bird's conversation.

"Those are indeed The Nile's words," said the hawk at last. "Why does it send you?"

"You may know," said Torus, "that we are...engaged, in a..." The strange confusion was rising again in his mind and he couldn't remember what Nile had told him to say. "A fight," he said, finally. "The pigeons. We rats are fighting the pigeons."

"Rats and pigeons are the same to me," said the bird. "Unless I am hunting, they are invisible. When I hunt, they are the same."

"We disagree!" came a shout from behind Torus's head. Chello had a slightly foggy look in his eyes, but the anger behind them was clear. At his shout the hawk turned around swiftly and gazed at them sharply with his round, yellow eyes. They were similar to the pigeons' eyes, but Torus noticed they were sharp and intelligent, in contrast to the other birds' blank, vacant gaze.

"How many?" he said. "Seven. The Nile sends seven rats to me. It is tolerable. It understands the moon. But seven rats it sends. For what?" He hopped off the low wall at the edge of the roof and stepped twice toward them, still staring with clear, unblinking eyes.

Torus forced himself to stay in his spot as the bird approached.

"Please, Powerful," he said. "We wish to learn about..." he stopped, and clenched his claws into the surface of the roof. The freezing air and the strange effect of the hawk's voice made it difficult for him to keep his thoughts.

"Flying," called another voice behind him. He thought it might be Nevi, but he wasn't sure. "We need to learn about flying," the voice continued, trailing off.

The hawk halted its approach, standing a few feet in front of them.

"Yes," said Torus. "To help us fight the pigeons."

"Pigeons do not fly," said the hawk. "They clatter in the air like broken things."

"True," said Torus, his head clearing a bit. "You are indeed wise, Skeerin. Their flight is ugly as yours is...really amazing." He shook his head, losing the words again. "That is why we tried to find you here...to learn about flying from you, since you're so...since you fly so good." Torus started shaking. Whether from the cold or the powerful presence of the big bird he couldn't tell.

"Please," he said again," please tell us about it so we can learn to fly and defeat the pigeons."

This time the bird responded sharply, with no thoughtful pause at all.

"Rats will never fly," he said. "Creatures of holes will never fly. They are clever with sticks, and the Nile understands the moon, but flight is beyond the clutch of your claws."

Torus felt his head swimming in confusion as the bird continued to talk in its strange voice. He struggled to hang onto the thread of what the bird was saying, or just remember why he was even there.

"You cannot see the wind," the bird continued. "You will never feel the air in your bones, or feel your skin become one with the fluid of the sky."

With that, he stood up straight and stared down at them. He spread his huge wings and launched into the air. With two incredibly powerful beats of his wings he lunged toward the rats with a shrill scream. Torus pressed his belly onto the surface of the roof and when he felt the rushing air from the hawk's wings hit his face his mind went black.

The next thing he knew, he was back in the safety and darkness of the framework under the roof, his heart racing, his breath coming in gasps, his whiskers standing straight out and his fur full of electricity. He struggled shakily to both control his breathing and to bring his thoughts to order. He realized he had escaped from something terrible, and then remembered the hawk. He had just thought to look for his friends when he heard a voice call out his name.

"Torus!" It was Arkon, who looked just as shocked and confused as Torus as he walked over uncertainly. "What was that?"

"I don't know," Torus replied. "Is everyone okay?"

"I'm here," said Nevi, "and I think I heard someone over there.

Slowly, they gathered the rest of the group together. Chello and Pryus were trying weakly to argue over whose fault it was, and Flinka and Juke were huddled in a tight crevice and only reluctantly came out to join the others.

Once they were all back together, they just sat for a while, trying to smooth their fur and make sense of what had happened. Finally Torus spoke.

"Thanks for coming up with me," he said. "I didn't know it would be like that. I'm glad we all got down okay."

"That was _crazy_ ," said Chello, with weak enthusiasm. "It was almost fun, except for the end..."

"It _was_ weird at the end," said Nevi, cautiously. "It made me feel...funny."

"Yeah, funny," said Juke, staring at the floor.

Torus could tell from the awkward silence that they had all had the same strange reaction to the hawk. He thought to tell them he had the same experience with the pigeons, but instead he said, "I guess we'd better get back down for the forage."

Flinka shook her head.

"I'm not going tonight. I don't think I can go back outside." She started to tremble, and Nevi reached out and patted her on the arm.

"You'll be okay," she said, kindly. "You'll shake it off. Rats are strong." Flinka gave her a small, grateful smile, but didn't say anything.

Chello said, "I agree with you about the forage. Forget the forage. They can live without us for one night, right?"

Juke suddenly stood up and walked away.

"Forgot my stick," he said, heading up the nearest hole. "Be right back."

Chello looked around to find his knitting needle, and followed him up, calling, "Wait up, I'll cover you."

"Huh," said Pryus. "I guess they shook it off pretty quick."

"Do you think they're okay?" asked Flinka nervously.

"I think so. Mr. Nile said the hawk doesn't do anything in the dark, and it's way past sunset now," said Arkon.

Chello and Juke came back shortly, Juke dragging his stick behind him.

"You need a string on that," said Chello, showing him the string on his needle. "Then you carry it over your shoulder and you don't have to use your teeth.

"Mff," Juke replied.

Instead of stopping at the group, however, Chello continued to the vent pipe that lead back to their normal haunts.

"I'm going to go eat Nile's pretzels," he said, "and forage twice tomorrow to make up for it. I suggest you come along unless you want to try to explain to all the forage leaders why you were late."

"Makes sense to me," said Pryus, rising from his seat. There was a murmur of agreement, and one by one the group slipped into the hole in the pipe, leaving Torus to reflect on the strange events of the evening alone in the darkness.

He sat for a long time, while the sliver of sky above changed from purple to charcoal to black. He noticed a scrap of stiff paper and picked it up, waving it in the air. He tore it carefully in two, then sat up on his haunches with a piece in each hand. Stretching out his arms, he flapped his hands like wings and imagined the wind rushing past his face. Then he tossed the papers away and giggled quietly as he dashed suddenly into the pipe and down into the depths of the building.

* * *

Chapter Nineteen

Two days later, Torus was sitting in the middle of the floor in the big attic loft of the building. The loft had been vacant for as long as anybody could remember, with broken windows and holes in the ceiling that let in the rain and snow and wind. Humans had left piles of junk in the corners, but mostly the floor was bare and no human had been up there for dozens of moons. Since no humans lived there the rats had no reason to go there either, so it was off the normal routes. Many rats in the clan didn't even know it was there, up above the fifth floor apartments. But even so, it was reasonably warm, thanks to the drafts from all the heated human homes below.

Nevi had found the way there after Chello complained her "place" was too close to the beaten path for strategizing and to practice fighting.

"We can't just run at them," he said. "We need to be coordinated. We need to have a plan and practice our attacks."

Nevi had heard about the attic from the other Scouts, but no one seemed to know the way there. She poked around for a while without any luck, but then almost by accident she found an ancient tunnel that followed some electrical wires up to the loft.

There was a piece of cardboard over the entrance to the tunnel, as if someone had tried to hide it, and the tunnel itself was full of dust and cobwebs. It came out at a hole in the wall under a broken window at one end of the vast, empty space. High above was the frame that supported the roof, and here and there long pipes pierced the floor, reaching through the ceiling. One of them was the vent pipe they climbed to reach the hawk's roost, but Torus couldn't figure out which one.

He sat surrounded by pieces of cardboard and wire and string and a brand-new roll of tape that Mr. Gumble had acquired for him. He was building a machine, and at the moment he was absorbed in the problem of attaching a large triangular piece to one end of a frail-looking wire frame. He barely flinched when a ball of wadded-up paper flew past his ear.

"You'll have to do better than that," came Chello's voice from behind him. "Like this, see?"

Another ball of paper came flying at him, this time hitting him squarely in the back of the head.

"Yes!" said Chello triumphantly, and Flinka giggled.

"If you're done using me for target practice, come over and hold this so I can tape it on," said Torus calmly.

"Part of our plan," Chello said, walking to him, "is to throw mud and snow at the pigbirds. That'll mess up their flying, right?" He held up one end of the triangle while Torus carefully applied a piece of tape.

"I guess so," he said, distractedly. "Interfere with their balance, or something like that."

"Well, you should know. You're the flying expert, right?"

Torus squinted at him, trying to see if he was joking.

"I've thought about it a lot, if that's what you mean," he said. "At least as much as you've thought about your attack plans."

"Whatever," said Chello, good naturedly, stepping away from the structure. It was an oblong wire frame with two wide pieces of cardboard attached to the side like wings, and the triangular piece on the rear, stretched out like a wide tail. "So, is it done? How does it work, anyway?"

Torus stepped back and pulled a scrap of tape from the fur on his stomach.

"Well, I started by looking at birds. They're all shaped more or less the same way, right? I mean, they've got two wings and a tail, and their wings and tails are wide and flat. Wide, flat things can sail through the air, and wide stiff things can move the air, like the fan in Mr. Nile's place. So I figured I'd just make the same kind of thing. It straps on my back, and my arms flap the wings and my feet steer with the tail, just like birds do."

The rest of the group gathered around to look at the flying machine. Juke poked at it with his stick and it rocked gently.

"Will it work?" he asked, bluntly.

"I tried out the wings yesterday. I made them stiffer with some wire along the edges, and when I flap them hard it almost lifts me off the ground."

"You'll need to do better than 'almost'," said Chello, "if you're going to help with the attack."

"Yeah, I know," said Torus. "I figure I can't take off from the ground, but if I launch from someplace high up then I'll be able to stay up at least long enough to scare them off, or at least freak them out a little bit. Have you seen the way the hawk dives down and surprises them? Like that."

Chello looked skeptical.

"So what does that make you? A Rat-Hawk? A Hawk-Rat? How about a Hark?"

Torus scowled at him.

"No, think about it. Think about your plan. You're going to go out and wait for the pigeons to dive down and harass you, right? So what if, just as they do that, just as they swoop down on top of you, I swoop down on top of them?"

"Yeah," said Pryus with false enthusiasm. "And we can all point up into the sky and yell 'A Hark! A Hark!' That would totally blow their minds!"

There was general laughter, and Torus was discouraged, but then Juke spoke up.

"It's a good plan," he said. "It's a surprise attack. It'll work."

"I agree," said Nevi. "If it goes like you say, if they attack one of you, and then the rest of us rush them, that will be surprising enough in itself. But if at the same time a rat comes sailing down from above them, it'll be more than they can handle. There's never more than two or three of them hanging out at night there, anyway. We can handle them, easy."

Chello looked unusually thoughtful. Finally he spoke.

"You're right," he said. "It will work, at least the first time. They may not let us surprise them that way more than once, but maybe once is all we need." He looked up at Torus. "Where will you fly down from?"

Torus twitched his whiskers. He hadn't thought that far ahead. "I dunno," he said. "I guess from the top of the wall around the dumpster."

Chello looked up at the roof, his brow furrowed.

"No, that won't work. That's where the birds watch from." He climbed up to one of the broken windows in the loft and looked out across the street. "And you can't see all around the dumpster from any one spot on the wall. We don't know who they'll attack, or where they'll fly down to, so you need to be able to go anywhere around there."

Torus nodded silently, still working on the problem in his mind.

Nevi scrambled up beside Chello and looked out the window with him.

"What about the tree?" she said. "There's a big branch that reaches out over the dumpster. I'll bet you could see the ground all around it from up there."

"Good," said Chello. "That's it. Can you get your machine up there? Is it done?"

"Sure," said Torus. "It's not too heavy, but it's awkward. Someone will need to help me with it. Maybe in the middle of the night before, so the birds don't notice it?"

"I'll help," said Juke. "Middle of the night. The next night you sneak up the tree when we go out to the dumpster."

"So that's tonight, then, right?" said Flinka. "'Cause tomorrow is a rest day."

"Uh...right," said Torus. He hadn't realized it was so soon.

"And how do we get it down there?" asked Arkon. "It's too big to go through the tunnels, and we don't want anyone to see it."

"Let's meet up here at midnight," said Chello. "We'll take it down the fire escapes."

"Ouside?" said Flinka, horrified. "On those metal stairs and ladders? You'll fall off or get eaten by an owl."

"No we won't," said Chello. "There's no such thing as owls."

"Yes there is," said Flinka, indignantly.

"What's an owl?" asked Arkon.

"We won't fall, either," said Chello.

"It's like a hawk, but at night," said Pryus. "They're made up to scare little rats into staying inside at night."

"Do you think we should test your machine first?" asked Nevi.

"They are _not_ made up," said Flinka. "My mom said her mom saw one in the park."

" _Every_ mom's mom saw one in the park," said Pryus. "Come on!"

"Uh, probably we should," said Torus. "Test it I mean."

"I believe my mom before I believe you," said Flinka, her ears turning pink. "She saw it. It had eyes as big as your head, and it flew as silently as a dandelion seed, drifting through the moonlight."

"Okay, sorry," said Pryus, trying not to laugh.

"What was your grandma doing out in the middle of the night?" asked Chello.

"You could climb up on that stack of boxes to test it," said Nevi.

"Yeah," Torus said. "Test it."

"Come on, I'll help you," she said, lifting up the tail end of the machine. Torus picked up the head and they half-dragged, half-carried it to the tall stack of boxes that stood at the far end of the empty space. The others followed them, and once they got to the boxes they all climbed up to various levels and helped get it to the top.

"If it works, we should put a head with a face on it," said Arkon, enthusiastically.

"What kind of face does a Hark have?" asked Pryus, grunting has he lifted the machine over his head to the top box.

"No," said Arkon, "like an owl, you know? With big eyes and a fierce beak!" He made a frightening face and Pryus rolled his eyes.

Torus clambered up to the top with Chello and the rest slipped back down to the floor to watch. He took a deep breath and started struggling into the straps that held the contraption on his back. Chello watched uncertainly and tried to hold it steady.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked.

Torus shrugged and tied a strap across his belly.

"There's only one way to find out if it works," he said. He stood up and reached out to grab the handles on the wings. He gave them an experimental flap and felt them press against the air, pushing him backward into Chello.

"Watch out!" said Chello. "You're supposed to go forward, right?" He pointed out over the floor. "Only don't fly into the elevator shaft, okay?"

The elevator shaft was a square hole in the middle of the far end of the room that reached all the way to the basement.

"I think I'll be lucky if I can get that far," said Torus. He stepped out to the edge of the box and looked down at the small crowd of rats gathered below. They cheered when they saw him. They looked smaller than he had expected, and he had a sudden lurch in his stomach.

"Go on," said Chello. "They're all ready to catch you..."

"Yeah..." said Torus.

"Sooo...do you want a...I don't know, a shove?" said Chello. "Or something to get you started?"

Torus shook his head. "No, I don't think so. I think I'll just kick off. Like jumping out of the hole into the alley..."

"Yeah, except the hole into the alley is only two tails off the ground, and this is like –"

"Shut up," said Torus crouching down. He muttered something unintelligible to himself.

"What's that?" said Chello. "Last words?"

"This is stupid!" Torus repeated, and with that he launched himself, kicking out as far as he could off the edge and at the same time spreading his cardboard wings.

He glided a short way and the crowd below cheered again, although he could hardly hear them through the sound of his heart roaring in his ears. He reached back and then flapped down as hard as he could. He felt the wings push against the air and for a moment he thought it was working, but then he began to descend more quickly. The machine was still gliding, but at a steep angle toward the floor. He panicked and reached back to flap again, to try to slow his descent and come down to the floor more gradually. But when he pulled forward on the wings again, one of the handles tore loose and the wing began to flutter uselessly as the machine started spinning. He struggled with the remaining wing to try to get control but it was falling too fast. By the time he had righted himself he was already at the ground, and he smashed down into the floor off-center, with one arm still clutching the wing. His free arm took the force of the landing and he felt a sharp pain from his wrist shoot up through his shoulder as he collapsed under the tangle of wire and cardboard that had been the flying machine.

The others came rushing over.

"Wow!" said Arkon. "That was amazing! It looked like it almost worked!"

"You went pretty far," said Flinka, encouragingly. "Did you dive like that on purpose?"

Torus grunted and struggled out from under the wreckage.

"No," he said, wincing as he tried to undo the straps with one hand.

"Oh, no, you're hurt!" said Nevi, pointing to his leg.

He looked down and saw a trickle of blood running down from a deep cut on his knee. He felt dizzy and staggered a little.

Chello pushed his way through the crowd and came up to him.

"Steady there, Hark," he said, helping to get the straps undone. "Come over here and sit down for a minute." He held Torus's good arm over his shoulders and helped him back to the place they had been working in. He eased Torus back onto a scrap of carpet they had spread out on the floor and then examined his bleeding knee and his rapidly swelling wrist.

"Can you help him, Arkon?" asked Nevi.

Arkon looked thoughtful.

"I think I can tape up that cut, but he needs Mr. Nile for his arm."

Torus shook his head and winced. "I'm fine," he said, struggling to control his breathing. "I just twisted it. It'll be okay in a minute."

Arkon pressed a bit of cloth against the cut on his knee. Once the bleeding stopped he got a fresh piece and held it in place with a piece of tape wrapped around Torus's leg. Watching him work, Torus gradually calmed down.

"Thanks," he said. The pain in his wrist was less now, too, but when he tried to stand on it the pain shot up his arm again and he had to stand on three feet.

Juke came up dragging what was left of the flying machine.

"What should we do with this?" he asked.

Torus was suddenly filled with anger. Anger at the machine for falling apart, and anger at himself for his ridiculous ideas.

"I don't care," he said. "Leave it. Throw it in the alley."

"What if humans find it?" said Juke.

"So what?" Torus said sharply. "Let them find it! Maybe they'll trip over it and break their stupid neck!" He hobbled over to the wreck and tore it out of Jukes paws. It slipped out of his hand and slid away across the floor, spinning slowly to a stop in a dark corner. Torus stared at it wordlessly. He felt completely drained.

"I'm sorry," said Chello, standing beside him. "It was a good idea."

Torus sighed.

"No, I'm sorry," he replied. "The raid will still go okay, though. Your plan is good."

Chello shrugged.

"Maybe so," he said. "Or maybe it's a stupid idea."

Torus smiled despite the throbbing pain in his wrist and the dull ache in his knee. "It _is_ a stupid idea," he said, and Chello laughed.

"I know it is," he said. "I just hope my stupid idea isn't as stupid as your stupid idea."

* * *

Chapter Twenty

Torus winced as Mr. Nile tied off the strip of cloth he had used to wrap his injured wrist. He and the rest had gone directly to Mr. Nile's home after the accident.

"It's a bad sprain," said the old rat, "but nothing's broken. It will be tender for a few days, but it should be back to normal soon enough." He walked slowly over to one of the piles of assorted junk and came back with a white tablet and a small metal fingernail file. He scraped the tablet with the file and made a small pile of white powder on a scrap of paper, then folded the paper into a packet and handed it to Torus.

"Take a pinch of this with your food, two times a day. It will help with the swelling and the pain."

"Okay," said Torus. "What is it?"

"A human medicine. I don't know what they call it." He showed him the surface of the tablet and pointed to the markings on it. "These marks and the smell and taste of it let me know what kind of medicine it is. Mr. Gumble gets them for me." He shuffled back to put the items away, then turned and climbed back onto his bed.

"Forgive me," he said. "I tire too easily now," and he coughed painfully.

"Are you okay?" asked Nevi. "Can we...get you anything?"

"Thank you, Nevi, you're very kind," he replied. "No, unfortunately, I'm afraid there's nothing to do but wait it out."

"Wait what out?" said Chello. "I don't like the sound of that..."

"Wait for the illness to run its course. Either I'll get better or I won't. Either way it can't last forever."

"I don't like it," Chello muttered, and Mr. Nile laughed quietly.

"To be honest, I'm not terribly enthusiastic about it myself," he said, "but it is what it is."

Flinka leaned over to Nevi.

"We should leave," she whispered, and Nevi nodded.

Torus stood up and gingerly tried walking with his bandaged wrist. It was less painful than before, but it was still more comfortable to hobble along on three feet, so he hobbled over to Mr. Nile.

"Thank you," he said. "I'll bring you some food after the forage."

"No need," said Mr. Nile. "What I get from the Clan Stockpile is sufficient."

"But there's no chocolate, right? I'll see if I can bring you some."

The old rat smiled, but didn't say anything.

As the young rats turned to leave, however, he spoke up suddenly.

"Arkon," he said, "can you stay behind for a moment? I remembered something I want to show you."

"Uh, sure," said Arkon uncertainly.

"Okay, well, we'll see you tomorrow night then, right?" said Chello.

"Uh, sure."

Once outside Mr. Nile's home, the young rats headed off in different directions and Nevi, Chello, and Torus started slowly down the tunnel toward their floor. They moved slowly to avoid bothering Torus's injuries.

"I'm worried about Mr. Nile," said Nevi suddenly. "He doesn't sound good."

"I know," said Torus. "That's what my mom was like at the end, after the girls came."

"That's what my dad's like all the time," Chello said with a sneer.

They continued on in silence until they were near Chello's home, and Torus stopped to rest, rubbing his sore wrist gingerly.

"Don't tell my dad, okay?" said Torus.

"Tell him what?" said, Chello. "That you tripped over your own tail and fell down a tunnel into brick wall?"

"Whatever," said Torus, rolling his eyes.

"Listen," said Nevi, "about tomorrow night..."

"What about it?" said Chello. "It's all planned."

"I know," she said, "but with Torus hurt...I don't know..."

"It'll be fine," said Chello. "Maybe his wrist will be better tomorrow. Anyway, the rest of us are all okay, right?"

"I guess so..." she said, uncertainly.

"I'll be fine," Torus interjected. "I can help with the backup part, even if I can't fight."

"Are we actually going to fight them?" asked Nevi. "I thought we were just going to try to scare them away from the dumpster during our hours."

"We'll see," said Chello, his voice low. "Just show up like we planned, meet at the entrance to the tunnel under the street. Bring a weapon, if you can find one." He turned down the side tunnel toward his home. "I'll see you then," he said as he disappeared.

Torus and Nevi continued on. "Are you okay to get home?" she asked as they passed her nest.

"Sure," he said. "You go on home. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay," she said, turning to leave. "Don't fall down any more tunnels, okay?"

"Whatever."

The next evening Torus waited at the entrance to the long tunnel that led under the street to the park. He was the first one there. It was a rest day, so the tunnels had been mostly empty, and the few rats he had seen had passed him without speaking.

He had an uneasy feeling about being away from his family that day. His father had been alarmed at his injuries, and kept asking questions.

"How did you fall," he asked. "Don't you watch where you're going? It must have been quite a fall to get hurt like this. Were you running from something? Why did you go to Nile's instead of coming right home?"

Torus tried to keep up with vague answers and half-truths. No, he and his friends were just fooling around and he lost his balance. Mr. Nile was closer than home and it was too hard to walk. His father looked at him skeptically, but finally seemed to accept what he was saying.

Getting away the next day to join the others for the raid was more difficult, however.

"We always stay home together on rest days," his father protested. "Who are all these friends you're spending all your time with?"

Torus explained it was all the same friends he'd known forever, and they were planning on playing some game that if he wasn't there it wouldn't work and they'd be mad at him and –

"Okay, okay, okay," his father finally said. "You can go. Just be more careful, okay?"

Moki wanted to come along, and for a brief panicked moment Torus thought his father would let him. But instead, his father winked at Torus and told Moki "No, I don't think there's room for you in the game they have planned."

"Okay," Torus had said. "Thanks, I'll see you later."

"Alright," his father replied as Torus made his way out of the den. "Don't fall down any more tunnels, okay?"

Torus looked down at his wrist. The swelling was less, and when he had re-wrapped it earlier it was less stiff as well. The medicine Mr. Nile had given him was helpful, and he had taken some before coming to meet the others. He could walk on the foot now, if he was careful, and could handle objects with his paw if he didn't have to grip too tightly.

He wasn't used to being the first to arrive, and he looked around to see if anyone else was coming. He was a little anxious about the raid, and began to hope it had been cancelled. The thought of facing angry birds was alarming, and he worried he would black out again or that his sprained wrist would cause trouble for him.

His reverie was interrupted by Nevi appearing silently at his side. He was no longer startled by this, but he still wondered how she accomplished it.

"Hi," he said, then he looked at her and noticed her appearance. "What is that?" he asked. She was wearing a kind of cape with a hood that fit over her head. It was made of dark green cloth and fastened under her chin with a string.

"My mom made it," she said. "She doesn't want me to get cold."

"Does she know what we're doing?" he asked, nervously.

"No, I told her we were going to the alley to poke around for supplies. So she gave me this. She told me it's a winter foraging cape." She held up a corner of the cloth and looked at it. "It's okay, I guess. It feels weird to wear coverings like a human."

"It's nice," said Torus. "And I bet it keeps you warm, too."

"Yeah, that's what she said..."

After that they waited silently. As the others arrived they exchanged mumbled greetings, but any attempt at small talk soon faded away. Last of all, Chello arrived, pushing one of the smaller sledges. He maneuvered it awkwardly down the tunnel toward them and stopped next to the group.

"Greetings, Raiders," he said.

Torus recognized the sledge as the one he and his father had built, the one that had been commandeered by the foraging committee for "the greater good."

"It's easier if you pull it," he said.

"Don't like the straps," panted Chello. "Don't like to be tied up."

"What's it for?" asked Juke, squinting at it.

"To carry the weapons," said Arkon, "remember? And to make it look like we're just a normal foraging team, in case anyone sees us."

"I'll pull it," said Juke shortly.

"He always pulls the sledge on our team," said Flinka, somewhat proudly. "All by himself," she added.

Chello started gathering weapons from the groups and stacking them carefully on the sledge.

"How did you get it?" asked Torus.

"Don't worry about it," Chello replied, distractedly. "Come on, let's go. It's past dark now."

"Hey, where's Pryus?" Torus asked.

"Not coming," said Chello, shortly. "Said he doesn't want to be the one to drag me home in pieces." He resumed loading the sledge, muttering almost to himself.

"Drag me home in pieces. Cheese! The truth is, he's got knots in his tail for some female on the third floor and he'd rather chase her than get into a good fight."

He started down the long tunnel to the park, followed by Juke, pulling the sledge, and then Nevi and Flinka, with Torus and Arkon bringing up the rear. Torus's wrist began to bother him, and his knee was stiff and painful where it had been cut.

"Are you doing alright?" asked Arkon.

"Fine," said Torus, "just slow."

He wondered whether he would be any good if the raid became an actual fight, and wished he'd put more effort into finding a weapon.

They wound their way through the tunnel, feeling the faint vibration of the human's machines rumbling past above them.

"This is probably a lot easier now that we've finished widening the tunnel, right?" said Arkon.

"Yeah," said Torus. "Leveling the floor helped, too."

"Shhh," Nevi whispered back at them. "We're almost there."

After two more turns and a slight climb they came to the vertical passage that led up to the entrance by the dumpster. Juke unfastened the straps that held him to the sledge and Chello started pulling weapons out. Everyone was silent, their eyes on Chello as he handed weapons to their owners.

"Here, I brought you this," he said to Torus, handing him a short yellow stick with a knob of red rubber on one end and a sharp black point on the other.

"Hey, I know what that is," said Arkon. "Mr. Nile has one. Humans make marks with them."

"Well now it's a weapon," said Chello. "It's sharp and easy to handle."

Torus nodded without speaking and gripped the stick gingerly with his injured paw.

Chello picked up his knitting needle and gestured everyone together.

"Okay," he said. "Just like we planned. We'll go up and act like we're foraging, so we'll spread out, but keep an eye on each other. Once the pigeons swoop down on somebody, everybody else come running and we'll let them have it. Just try really hard to keep your heads on straight. They're just pigbirds, remember. They can't hurt us if we team up against them."

The group nodded and Chello turned toward the faint light that came down the passage. The others followed him and one at a time he gestured to them to climb up.

"Remember," he whispered, "stay in the shadow behind the wall until we're all up there."

Juke went up first, followed by Flinka and Nevi. When Torus's turn came he felt a sudden twinge in his stomach. Once he got into the passage, he found that he couldn't get a grip on the surface with just one hand. He put the yellow stick in his teeth, but his aching wrist wasn't strong enough to help. The passage had been widened as well and he was unable to brace his back against the far wall without putting too much pressure on his stiff knee. He tried three times to get a purchase on the walls, but each time he slid back down, the last time landing on top of Chello.

Chello was clearly frustrated, and moved to climb up the passage himself, gesturing Torus aside and shaking his head. Torus wordlessly asked for some help to try one more time, but Chello shook his head again and disappeared up the passage.

Torus sat down in the darkness and threw the yellow stick as far as he could down the tunnel, listening to it roll to a stop far off in the shadows. He had never felt like such a useless failure in his life.

He tried one more time to climb the passage, and managed to get nearly half way up before he couldn't climb any more. His wrist and knee were throbbing, and his other muscles were trembling from the awkward effort. He found a spot where he could hang on without too much trouble and stopped to rest, listening for any sound from above.

At first there was nothing but the soft sound of the wind in the branches of the tree, but then he heard the unmistakable sound of pigeons screaming. Then the sound grew and grew, louder than he had ever heard it, and he lost his grip on the surface and slid back down to the bottom again, his claws scraping along the dirt and concrete all the way. The sound reached all the way down to him there, and mixed among the clattering commotion of pigeon sounds he heard the shrill squeal of frightened rats, and the next thing he knew, someone came crashing down the passage at top speed.

It was Arkon, and crashed past Torus in a furious whirl of fur and tail, nearly knocking him over, his eyes wide and frighteningly blank. After him came Flinka and Juke, both with the same wild nothingness in their eyes. Then Nevi came down, climbing, rather than half-falling, and although she was clearly alarmed, her eyes were sharp and clear.

"Run!" she said. "Too many!" She followed the others down the tunnel, with her cape flapping behind her.

Torus hesitated for a moment, confused by the sudden events and by the cacophonous noise that continued to flood his ears. Then he grabbed the straps to the sledge and started pulling it back toward the Clan's territory. Behind him he heard someone come down the passage and run up toward him. Chello came past him, still carrying his knitting needle, his eyes full of rage and disappointment.

"Forget it!" he said. "Forget the sledge! Get back to the Clan!"

"What happened?" asked Torus, still pulling the sledge, struggling to keep up.

"Failed," said Chello. "Too many of them. A dozen, at least!" He stopped and let Torus catch up. "I don't understand it. There's only ever been two or three before. How could there be so many? This is our time at the dumpster, right? At night? Why are there so many there?"

Torus didn't have an answer, but before he could say so, a strange fluttering, scrambling noise came at them from the direction of the dumpster.

"Oh, scat!" said Chello.

"What? What is it?"

"Scat, scat, scat!" said Chello, nearly panicking. "They're coming! Run!"

He grabbed the sledge's straps from Torus, and then heaved the sledge sideways, wedging it between the walls of the tunnel. Then he took off running, with Torus on his heels, and the sound of fluttering, screaming pigeons seeming to gain on them every stop of the way. As he rounded a bend in the tunnel Torus glanced back and saw two big pigeons flapping and squawking behind the sledge, trying to work their way past it, screaming at the rats and staring with their blank, yellow eyes.

Back at the entrance to the passage the group gathered to collect their nerves. Arkon was still shaking, and Flinka was trying to keep from crying. Juke was staring down the tunnel, apparently lost in thought. Torus was rubbing his sore wrist while Nevi and Chello argued about what had happened.

"I don't _know_ why there were so many," she said. "Stop asking!"

"They must have known it's a rest day," he said. "That's the only explanation. There's never that many there this late. Someone told them there wouldn't be any rats there tonight, so that's why they're there." He turned away from her and gazed down the tunnel. "I think it was that cat."

"No, he didn't know anything about it," said Nevi, exasperated. "Will you stop?"

"Maybe not," said he replied darkly. "Maybe it's not because of the rest day." He turned back to the group, his eyes flashing. "Someone talked about the raid, right? And word got back to them!"

"Chello, stop it!" said Nevi. "You're acting crazy! No one knew about it but us and Mr. Nile, and no one would talk about it outside the group. And we're all here, except..."

She stopped and Chello glanced at her sharply.

"Except Pryus," she finished quietly.

"No!" he snapped. "Not my brother. He's no good, and he always runs from a fight, but he's no snitch. He hates the birds as much as I do."

"That's what I'm saying," Nevi stammered. "No one told them. It's just bad luck, that's all."

Chello stared at her for a moment, and then shook his head, as if to clear it.

"Maybe you're right," he said. "But either way, our chance at a surprise attack it ruined now. They'll probably have extra guards there all the time from now on." He sat down and shook his head, discouraged.

"So, what happened up there?" asked Torus. "I couldn't ever get up the passage, and I couldn't hear much more than screaming birds."

There was a short silence, and then Juke spoke.

"They were ready," he said. "There were 14 of them, all eating food, and as soon as they saw us they came at us."

He stopped and Nevi said, "How do you know how many there were?"

"I counted them," he replied, still staring down the tunnel.

Chello looked at him suspiciously.

"Do you _always_ count pigeons when they're attacking you? Or did you already know how many would be there?"

"Chello, knock it off," said Nevi. But she and the rest gazed at Juke with questioning silence.

He shifted uncomfortably and finally spoke.

"I count everything," he said. "I'm not good at stuff. I can't build things or make plans. But I can count things, and I always get it right. So, yeah, I counted them when we first came out of the tunnel, before they came at us and..." He trailed off and stared at the ground.

"I hate it," said Flinka suddenly. "I hate that thing that happens. I can't do it again..." she trailed off, her voice shaking.

"What is that, anyway?" said Chello, angrily. "What happens to us?"

"Did it happen to you, too?" asked Arkon.

Chello paused and thought for a moment.

"No, not really, not like last time. Maybe because I was so mad."

"Me too," said Nevi. "I mean, it didn't happen to me, either. But they didn't come at me right away. Maybe they didn't see me..."

"Did you see _them_?" asked Chello. "Did you see who it was?"

Nevi shook her head.

"It was that one they call their King," he said bitterly. "Him and those other two that always come along with him, and a bunch of others."

Juke nodded. "Them and eleven others. All their leaders and captains."

Chello squinted at Juke as if he was considering revising his opinion of him, and was about to speak when they heard a shout from far away inside the building.

"Flinka!"

"Oh, cheese, it's my dad!" said Flinka. "What's going on? Did we miss something?"

Flinka's father rushed up, reviewing the group distrustfully. He was a smallish rat, his fur beginning to turn gray around his ears and muzzle. He went to Flinka and started pulling her away by the paw.

"Come on," he said. "We have to go."

"Go where?" she asked. "What's happening?"

"You're going home, and then I'm going to a gathering," he said. He looked around at the others. "You pups had better get going too."

"What gathering?" asked Flinka. "Why can't I come, too?"

"I don't know, it's an emergency. Something happened and they've called an emergency gathering. I'd just feel better if you were at home with your mother and the pups." He turned and pulled her away down the tunnel toward the center of the building. "You youngsters should go find your families. You don't want to be out here on the edge if something happens..."

By that time, they had begun hearing other shouts, and the sound of many feet scampering in every direction. They hurried back toward the main tunnels and found the clan in a near panic. Parents were dashing back and forth looking for their pups, rats were calling for their mates, two or three small, lost pups were running in circles crying. Some of the Scouts and Patrol Officers were trying to calm things down, but others were caught up in the fear, and were just trying desperately to collect their families and get them safely home.

"What is it?" asked Nevi, clearly frightened. "Another fire? Poison gas?"

"I don't know," said Torus. "Do we go home or just go to the gathering place and look for our families there?"

"Well, I'm going home," said Chello, "just to put Sticker away, and then I guess I should find Dumpish and figure out what Patrol is doing."

Juke nodded and they headed off in different directions.

Arkon also turned to leave and said, "I'm going to go check on Mr. Nile. If we need to evacuate he'll need more help than my folks will."

A tiny pup ran past sobbing frantically, and Nevi put out a paw and stopped her gently.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I can't find my mommy," said the little rat, shaking.

"Don't worry, I'll help you," said Nevi. "What's her name?"

"Mommy," she sniffled.

Nevi stifled a laugh, and said, "Okay, well, where do you live?"

"I don't know," said the pup, starting to cry again.

"No no no no no no," said Nevi soothingly. "It's okay. We'll go to the meeting place and find her there, okay?" She took the little rat by the paw and led her away. She called to Torus over her shoulder.

"Find me after the gathering, okay?"

Torus nodded and headed off toward home to see if he could find his family. The rats in the clan were no longer running every which way, but were headed mostly toward the meeting place, so Torus struggled to keep going in the opposite direction. Soon, however, he heard Moki's shrill voice above the noise and worked his way through the crowd to join his family.

"Oh, hi," said his father. "Where have _you_ been?"

"Nowhere," said Torus, hoping he sounded convincing. "Just hanging around with a bunch of friends."

"Okay. Do you have any idea what's going on?" his father asked. "I was just at home with the pups and suddenly everyone's in a panic and there's an emergency gathering."

"No," said Torus, suddenly having a sick feeling in his stomach. "No idea at all..."

The gathering place was fuller than Torus had ever seen it before. He thought nearly every rat in the clan must be there, pups included. He saw many rats he didn't recognize, and had difficulty finding any of his friends in the crowd. He found a spot with his family and looked toward the front of the room. The platform was empty, and it was too noisy to tell if there was any activity in the Chief's hole in the wall behind it.

As it became clearer that the building was not on fire or being overrun by rabid cats, the crowd became less agitated and began wondering loudly what all the fuss was about. Then Nogolo emerged from the hole and climbed up onto the platform, waving his paws for silence. Gradually the noise subsided and Nogolo surveyed the crowd with a peculiar expression on his face. At last, he spoke.

"Friends, companions," he said, "strange and unsettling events have occurred which make this gathering necessary. The...details are not yet clear, but apparently some rash actions on the part of a few reckless rats have threatened the peace of the entire Clan."

There was a sudden flurry of motion in the Chief's hole behind him and he turned around, startled. With an awkward fluttering, one of the Pigeon King's attendants came bursting out of the hole, followed by Dinnick, who was saying "Wait! Wait?" The pigeon hopped up on the platform and waved away the obviously flustered Nogolo.

"No talk!" he exclaimed. "Rat talk not no talk no rat! Pigeon talk." The rats in the gathering were stunned to silence. This bird stared at them with its strange eyes.

"Attack us rat," it continued. "At food attack. This night rats. Attack. King attack Culucu King attack rat rat!"

"But I don't understand," said Nogolo. He tried to sound soothing, but the anxiety was plain in his face. "We are at peace. Why would we...disturb you while you dined?"

The pigeon turned to face him.

"Attack," he said. "Attack rat. At food."

"Perhaps it was rats from the park?" suggested Nogolo. "Or from another clan? You know the other clans are...somewhat uncomfortable with our...arangement"

"No!" came a voice from behind the platform. Slowly, and with a strange dignity, the Pigeon King stepped out of the Chief's chamber and onto the platform, followed by the Chief himself.

"Other. Rat. No." He was evidently working very hard to make himself understood. "This. Rat. Attack. Go. In. Hole. To. Here."

"They attacked you and then fled down the tunnel to this building?" Nogolo asked. The Chief looked surprised to see him.

"Yes. Rat." Said the king.

"Who was it?" asked Dinnick, nervously. "Can you name them? Do you see them?"

"No," said the king. "All. Rat. Same. Look."

"Well, we will get to the bottom of it," said Nogolo, regaining his composure. "We can certainly find out who did this thing that threatens to break the peace we have worked so hard to build between us. And they will certainly be punished, as well. It does the clan no good to have wild members perpetrating such schemes!"

The Chief nodded gravely.

"Schemes," he said, ominously.

"So let it be settled, then," Nogolo continued. "We will resume our peace, and we will find a way to amend the slight that has – "

"Yes yes yes!" cried the other pigeon. "Food food pigeon house no rat food pigeon house!"

"I beg your..." Nogolo stammered.

"Food. Now. Pigeon. Food," the king said. "Rat. Not."

Nogolo opened and closed his mouth silently as the meaning of the king's words sank in.

"Park. Food. Pigeon. Only." The king continued. "House. Top. House. Pigeon. House."

"I...don't..." said Nogolo, shaking his head.

"Do you mean the attic?" asked Dinnick. "The loft at the top of our building?"

"Yes," said the king. "Top. House."

"What's he talking about?" Torus whispered to his father.

"It sound like the pigeons want to take over the dumpster," Nolki replied. "And something about the attic...like they want to live in it or something."

There was an angry murmur growing from the crowd. Torus felt a sudden lurch in his stomach as he remembered the wreckage of his flying machine he had left in the attic. What if the pigeons found it and confronted the leaders with it? If they traced the machine back to Torus and the others they would certainly be connected with the failed raid as well.

Nogolo seemed anxious, but he attempted to act amused as he replied to the king.

"No, I'm afraid that's – "

"Culuuu!" The king's sudden piercing cry cut him off.

The other pigeon joined him, screaming "Culuuu, culuuu!" and within seconds pigeons began pouring through the broken window and flying around the room clattering and shrieking.

"Please, please," shouted Nogolo above the din. "Please stop this! You'll bring the humans with all this noise. Please stop and we will discuss it."

"Culuuculuuucu!" cried the king, and within moments all the circling pigeons had found roosts at the top of the room, surrounding the crowd of rats and staring down at them with blank malevolence.

"Pigeon. Starve. Food. Need," said the king, carefully. "Pigeon. Freeze. House. Need."

"Yes, I see," said Nogolo, "I understand."

The king walked up to Nogolo and stared directly into his eyes. "Pigeon. Bring. Human." Nogolo actually began to cower down in front of him. "Human. Kill. Rat."

"Yes, yes..." Nogolo was practically whimpering. He turned away from the king and straightened up as well as he could, facing the crowd.

"My friends, my clan, this is most unfortunate, but what other choice do we have? We can get by with food from within the building for the time being, and the attic loft hasn't been used by us for dozens of moons. Our very lives here are in jeopardy now. If the humans learn our numbers they will gas the building and any of us that survive will be forced out into the winter with nothing." He looked out at them, his eyes traveling from face to face, pleading.

Torus looked at him and the Chief standing on the platform with the two pigeons, then up at the many birds perched along the shelves and exposed boards all around the room. He felt a sense of despair and failure, and anxiety about the future. He looked at his father and his eyes were hard, staring straight in the direction of the platform, but seemingly turned inward, lost in grim thought. All across the room he saw rats in the same dark mood, some angry, some frightened, but all tense and silent, waiting for the inevitable words they knew were to follow.

"Very well," said Nogolo, sounding resigned, but relieved. "So it shall be."

"Culuuu!" screamed the king's attendant, and instantly all the pigeons assembled above the rats dove down upon them, flapping their wings wildly in their startled upturned faces. Torus was vaguely aware of a sudden surging panic in the crowd, and the beginning of a chaotic stampede, before the now-familiar blackness covered his mind and he was thrown into darkness.

* * *

### Part III

Chapter Twenty One

Torus arrived at the alleyway to find Nevi already there, staring out at the piles of rotting snow that filled the narrow space. She glanced at him briefly when he came up and then turned her gaze back outside. He sat down beside her and surveyed what he could see of the alley.

"He's not here," he said. She shook her head wearily.

"That's three weeks in a row," she said, resting her chin on her folded front paws. They sat in silence for a moment, and then she spoke again, her voice edged with anxiety.

"Where do you think he is?"

"Probably busy with Patrol," said Torus.

Nevi snapped her head around and gave him a puzzled look. Then she laughed and said, "Not, Chello, silly, Sandwich Man!"

"Yeah," said Torus, "that's what I meant. He's probably on some...sandwich patrol..."

"No," said Nevi, turning back out to the alley. "He's been here every week since before we were even born, probably. He never misses a week and then suddenly he's gone for three weeks." She started to sound anxious again. "What's happening?"

Torus shook his head, silently. He didn't have an answer. In the three moons since the failed raid on the dumpster in the park, things in the building had gotten steadily worse for the clan. There was never enough food, every place in the building seemed too cold, and the Clan leaders had responded by implementing 'austerity measures." All gatherings were cancelled, any surplus food that was gathered was collected for the Clan stockpile, and the Patrol was instructed to report any suspicious activity directly to the leaders.

The Raiders had only gotten together once, immediately after the last gathering, while the rest of the clan was still running panicked back to their dens. When the black fog had lifted from his mind, Torus had found himself in a dark side tunnel, with Chello there pacing back and forth, muttering furiously to himself.

"What's wrong?" Torus had asked.

"I almost had it," Chello had replied. "I almost blocked it out." He stopped pacing and came nose-to-nose with Torus. He whispered intently, "It's something that happens in our minds, it has to be. So when I thought they might attack, I started concentrating on being angry, like I was at the dumpster. That time I only got a little foggy, so I tried to do it again, and I almost had it, too, but some pigbird came down right at me and..." He turned and struck the side of the tunnel with the blunt end of his needle.

Nevi came into the tunnel then, followed by the others.

"I found everyone," she said. "I figured we should probably talk about what to do next."

"I say we do nothing," said Flinka, pointedly. "There's enough trouble already, right?"

"So, what, then, we just give up?" said Chello. "Let them take all our food and move into our houses?"

"I didn't say that," said Flinka. "I just think maybe we should try to not stir things up too much for a while."

"Me, too," said Juke, dully. "Just do our jobs, patrol and forage and wait for a better time."

"But they're in _our_ building," said Chello, almost frantically. "How can that happen?"

"They're just in the attic," said Flinka. "So what?"

"So, that's where we meet!" said Chello. "How can we...?" He trailed off, looking from one face to the next, trying to find an ally.

"That machine is up there, too," said Torus. "What if they find it and ask the leaders about it?"

"Exactly!" said Chello, beginning to pace back and forth. "We should go up there now and get it! And stay there and keep any birds from moving in."

"No, we can't do that," said Nevi. "We can't let anyone find out we even know how to get up there, let alone get caught trying to fight pigeons again." She turned to Torus.

"I wouldn't worry about the machine. I don't think they'll recognize it for what it is, and if they did, they wouldn't know who built it. Besides, now it looks like..." She searched for the right words, but could only say, "like a piece of junk..."

Torus nodded and wished he could sink into the floor.

Chello was still pacing.

"Okay, so where do we meet, then?"

"I don't think we should meet for a while," said Nevi, and he stopped and stared at her. "Not for anything like this, anyway. If the leaders find out it was us that set the pigeons off we might get blackmarked. Or even banished..."

Chello snorted and turned away from the group.

"Banished!" he said, bitterly. "Who wouldn't want to get banished from this dump."

Nevi went up to him and turned him around to face her.

"The right time will come," she said. "Let's get through the winter, keep ourselves strong, take care of our families and our homes. Everything will change in the spring."

Chello stared at her in silence, his breath coming fast.

"Maybe so," he said finally. "If we last that long."

"We will," said Nevi. "Rats have been here forever, right? We'll figure it out, I know we will."

Torus, and all the others, had stayed silent, but he was skeptical, and remained skeptical, sitting with Nevi in a broken brick wall staring out into a murky late-winter afternoon looking for a human that had stopped coming.

"Still gone?" came a voice from behind them. Chello sauntered up and flopped down beside Nevi.

"Yes," said Nevi.

"Pity," said Chello, casually. "No pickles again, then..."

"No, your pickle hunting skills are going to dwindle away to nothing before spring if he doesn't come back," said Torus.

"Good to see you, too," said Chello good-naturedly. "Where've you been?"

"Foraging," said Torus, yawning. "You?"

"Patrol," said Chello. "You know, looking for those rascals that tried to attack the pigeons at the dumpster."

Nevi smiled quietly. "Do you have any leads?" she asked.

"Some," he replied, "but they never seem to pan out." He rolled over onto his back and started picking at the roof of the hole with his knitting needle. "I'm starting to think the leaders are losing interest in finding out who did it. All they want to know now is who's foraging, and where, and when."

"Since when does Patrol focus on what rats in the clan are doing, rather than on threats from outside?" asked Nevi, irritated.

"Since you- _know_ -when," said Chello. "I'm surprised they don't have the Scouts doing the same thing."

"Who says they aren't?" said Nevi, with bitterness in her voice. "I just keep my mouth shut about it."

Chello continued picking at the brick above him. "Well, one of us is very noble and brave, but I don't know which one." A small piece of mortar fell out of the bricks and hit him on the forehead. "Ow!"

"Hey, look!" said Torus, pointing out into the alley. "It's that dog!"

"Really?" said Chello, rushing to right himself.

"It is!" said Nevi. "Maybe Sandwich Man will come back today!"

The dog was wet and bedraggled, shivering and scrawny, with its ears laid back and its tail limp. It rushed nervously into the alley with its nose to the ground, zigzagging its way to the back of the space, up onto a high pile of human junk, and back down to the place Sandwich Man had habitually sat. The dog circled the area three or four times, still with its nose to the ground, and then it went to a relatively sheltered spot on the far side of the alley and flopped down on its side, curling dejectedly with its nose on its paws and its eyes at the empty space in the middle of the alley.

"That's sad," said Nevi.

"It looks horrible," said Torus.

"Stupid dog," said Chello.

"You stop it," said Nevi. "It's obviously lost and Sandwich Man is gone and it doesn't know what to do about it."

"That's why it's stupid," said Chello. "No animal should depend on humans like dogs do. It's unnatural."

"I still think it's sad," said Nevi.

"I wonder what happened to Sandwich Man," said Torus, half to himself.

"Why don't you ask it?" said Chello. Then, before either of the others could do anything, he stepped forward to the edge of the hole in the wall.

"Hey!" he shouted. "Hey you! Dog!"

The dog snapped its head up and stared at the spot the sound had come from.

"What are you doing?" whispered Torus tensely, and Nevi started backing slowly and silently away from the alley.

"Don't worry about it," said Chello. "Hey!"

"Rat!?" said the dog lurching to its feet.

"Yeah, you," said Chello. "The stupid one!"

"Rat rat rat rat!" shouted the dog, running toward the hole. "Rrrrrat!"

Torus and Nevi scampered into the tunnel away from the dog, but Chello stood his ground calmly, holding his needle loosely in his hands.

"RAT!" shouted the dog, reaching the hole. "Rrrrrat! Ratratratrat!"

"Hey!" Chello shouted back. "Calm down! Hey! HEY!"

"Rat?" said the dog, stepping back a little.

"Calm down, alright?" said Chello, quieter now.

"Rrrrrr...." said the dog.

"Where's your human?" asked Chello.

The dog sat down and looked confused.

"What?"

"Your human," said Chello, pointing out into the alley. "Where did it go?"

The dog whimpered a little, and then answered.

"Gone," he said sadly. "Man gone."

Torus and Nevi crept up carefully beside Chello.

"Yeah, we know," said Chello, impatiently, "but where?"

"Rrrrrat," the dog snarled.

Nevi patted Chello on the shoulder.

"Be nice," she said. Then she turned to the dog. "Where did your human go? Is he lost?"

"Don't know," said the dog, still gazing at Chello with a surly expression. "Blue man take."

"What?" said Torus. "What does that mean?"

"Blue man take man away. Blue man black white car take away." The dog whined again and looked over his shoulder at the empty place in the alley. "Man gone now long time."

"The police," said Nevi, suddenly understanding. "The police took your man away in their big machine, right?"

"Yes," said the dog. "Man gone."

"How do you know about that?" Chello asked Nevi.

"I'm a Scout," she said. "I see stuff..."

Torus called to the dog.

"What do you do, then?" he asked. "What do you eat?"

"No food," said the dog. "Man give food, now no food."

"Why don't you go out and find food?" asked Nevi. "That's what we do."

"No," said the dog. "No find food. Man give food, now no man, no food."

"What are you doing here, then?" asked Torus. "I'll bet there's someplace else you could go to find something to eat."

"Wait," said the dog, dejectedly. "Wait for man."

"What if he doesn't come?" asked Nevi.

"No!" said the dog sharply. "Man always come. Wait for man. See other man not Man run away. Hide. Then come back, wait." He slouched as if he had to struggle to keep believing what he said. "Wait for snow gone. Man come then."

"How do you know that?" said Chello, increculously.

"Man say," said the dog. "Man say wait. Dog wait."

The dog turned and went back to his sheltered spot on the far side of the alley. He curled up again and lay watching the empty space, waiting for the snow to melt away.

"That's so sad," said Nevi.

"He'll be alright," said Chello. "Humans love dogs, remember?" He turned and headed back into the building.

"Good luck," called Torus as he turned to follow Chello.

"Thank you!" called Nevi.

"Rrrrrat," said the dog softly, and its tail gave one soggy flopping wag against the cold ground.

* * *

Chapter Twenty Two

That night the forage was particularly depressing. Since they were barred from the park, the clan only had the three small dumpsters next to the building to search in. There were some other areas where they sometimes found food, like the alleyway, but the Leaders had stopped sending teams there because they never found anything anymore. The rats also used to search for food in the human's kitchens, but the Leaders were so nervous about being discovered that they had forbidden anyone to go into a human's area at all for any reason.

Torus's team was one of three that had been assigned to the South dumpster that night. A total of eighteen rats with four sledges and several bags were picking over a pile of bagged garbage that looked to Torus like the smallest pile he had ever seen.

An almost equal number of Patrol rats paced around the edge of the dumpster. They said their job was to keep the rival clans away, and Torus had certainly heard that the other clans were upset with the Rats of Acme. But he couldn't remember ever actually seeing a rat from another clan, and he wondered if the Patrol was really there to keep the foragers on task.

He tried to focus on his work, but he felt the tension that they all felt. There simply wasn't enough food for all the teams to meet their quotas, and everyone was anxiously going through the pile as fast as they could, hoping to find enough to fill their sledge before some other team did it first.

"This is ridiculous!" said a voice in the darkness to his left. "There's nothing here but paper! Where's all the food?"

"Shhh!" hissed another voice. "Be quiet or the humans'll hear you. Or the Patrol..."

"What humans?" said a third voice. "Half the rooms in the building are empty now, and more humans leave all the time."

There was a general murmur of agreement while the rats continued to pick through the pile.

Torus turned to an old rat that was working next to him. He hesitated for a moment, and then asked, "Where do they go?"

"What?" said the old rat, looking up sharply. "Where do what go?"

"The humans," said Torus. "If they go away from the building, where do they go to?"

The other rat squinted at him for a moment, then returned to his task, trying to open a plastic bag that had been tied shut.

"Who knows," he said. "Who cares." He tried again to bite through the knot at the top of the bag, but lost his grip, and the bag rolled toward Torus.

Torus stopped the bag and rolled it back to the old rat.

"We should care, shouldn't we?" he asked. "I mean, if that's where our food comes from..." He looked at the bag thoughtfully, and then bit sharply through the knot, letting the contents of the bag come spilling out.

"Thanks," said the old rat, squinting at the trash in the top of the bag. "My teeth, you know..."

"Sure," said Torus, turning back to his own search.

"If there's anything in here, I..." the old rat stammered, "I guess you'll want some for...your..."

"No, don't worry about it," said Torus. "I'm sure there's plenty in here if we just keep digging."

"Okay, thanks," said the old rat. "Thanks."

They worked in silence for a few minutes, and then the old rat spoke up unexpectedly.

"They go to other buildings, mostly," he said.

"What?" said Torus.

"The humans," said the rat, still methodically going through the contents of the bag. "They go to other buildings, or so I hear. Some of them grow up and go to nests of their own, and some of them get old and move to other buildings without stairs, I guess. And some of them just lay down and go into darkness, like we do, and then other humans come and take them away wherever they take them." He paused to sniff a candy wrapper. "Not so different from us. Just bigger."

Torus looked at the old rat, and saw that his paws were shaking as he carefully put the candy wrapper in his carrying pouch.

"How do you know this?" he asked finally.

"I seen it," the rat replied. "Been here my whole life, six winters now, and I seen it all." He looked at the empty trash bag in disgust and pushed it away from him, coming over to Torus's side.

"Listen," he said. "Everything is always the same everywhere, over and over again, no matter what. Winter, summer, winter, summer. The same for humans and birds and rats and everything else. Wake up in light and lie down in darkness, and everything in between is just survival." He crept right up to Torus's ear and whispered so softly he could hardly be heard.

"Listen," he said again, tensely. "Listen, the way things are now? Well, it's been this way before, too. Long time ago, me and Nile were just pups, barely more than pups, and the Chief's granddaddy was just like the Chief is now. You get me?"

Torus nodded.

"And the same thing was going on, with not enough food, and all what there was going to the Clan and nothing for the families." He paused, and stepped back from Torus, as if he was unsure what to say next.

"So what happened?" asked Torus.

There was a sudden scrambling near them, and a sturdy rat from the Patrol walked past, eyeing them suspiciously.

"The same thing that always happens," said the old rat. "Nothing ever changes, right Officer?" He picked up his pouch and walked past Torus, headed for the other side of the pile. As he passed, he whispered, "You and your friends are doing it right."

Torus nodded absently, not realizing at first what the old rat was talking about.

"Say 'hey' to Nile for me," said the old rat as he disappeared around the pile.

"Okay..." said Torus.

When he got home from foraging, Torus came into his family's den to find his father and siblings huddled around an object in the middle of the floor. His father whipped his head around when he heard Torus come in, alarmed at first, but then relieved.

"Oh, it's you," he said.

"Who else would it be?" asked Torus.

"Torus, come and see," said Moki loudly. "It's a whole hotdog!"

"Sh, sh, sh, sh, sh, sh!" his father whispered intently, waving his paws in the air to erase Moki's words. "Not so loud!"

"How did you get it?" asked Torus. "Why didn't they take it for the stockpile?"

"They didn't see it," said his father carefully. "It was...under some other stuff in my bag, and they...missed it, I guess."

"Oh, okay," said Torus, nodding. "Lucky for us, then, right?"

"Exactly," said his father, breaking the sausage into pieces and passing them to the others. "Eat this quick, okay?"

"Why?" asked Shona, her mouth full.

"Because you're hungry," said his father.

"Because the Patrol is coming again," said Moki, licking his claws.

"They haven't been here for a couple of days," his father acknowledged. "We might as well eat what we can before it gets donated to the greater good..."

"Do we even have anything for them to take now?" asked Torus? "The food nook looks pretty empty to me."

"We'll be okay," said his father evasively.

Nosha finished her bit of hotdog and sat cleaning her whiskers. "Is it okay to hide food from the Patrol?" she asked.

"Who said anything about hiding," Nolki replied. "We keep our food in the food nook and if it's empty it's empty."

"Except for under the bed," said Shona. "Last night –"

"There's nothing under the bed," said Nolki abruptly. "Last night you were dreaming."

"No I wasn't," she said, defensively.

"Look, just leave it alone, alright?" Nolki seemed tired and exasperated. "The food nook is empty right now but we'll manage to get enough food day by day, okay?"

"Okay," she said.

Energized by the rich food, Moki and the girls started a chasing scrambling game and Nolki took the opportunity to wave Torus over to the side of the room.

"Come over here," he whispered. "There's more."

"What? More food in the bed? I know that. Everybody knows that."

"No, not that," said his father hastily. "There's more hotdogs! A whole package!"

"Where?" Torus asked.

"In the north dumpster. I found it in a corner and kept it buried. I just took one to bring home, but I want to go out tonight and get more."

"Wow," said Torus. He was filled with a confused admiration. "I didn't think you'd be the type to..."

"Feeding my pups has to be my first priority," his father replied seriously. "I'm happy to give the Clan what it needs if I have it available, but when things are this tight I don't feel bad bending the rules a little to make sure the pups can eat."

Torus nodded. He and the other grown rats could eat while they foraged alone after hours, and sometimes even sneak a bite during the regular foraging trips, but the little ones at home had to rely on what came back to the den. Lately, with the supply of food shrinking, and the forage masters retaining more and more for the stockpile, the foragers had been bring less and less into their own nests. And on top of that, every other day or so, the Patrol came by to collect donations for the needy from any food that the rats collected on their own. With all that, Torus thought, it was a wonder they had anything to eat at all.

"Listen," said his father. "I want you to come out with me tonight, okay?"

Torus nodded, and his father continued.

"That way I think we can get most of what's there and get it home without anyone seeing."

"Okay," said Torus, "when do we go?"

"I want to go!" said Moki, standing nearby.

"Go where?" asked Torus, "We're not going anywhere..."

"Shut up," said Moki, angrily. "I want to go with you and Dad to get more hotdogs." He looked back and forth between them. "I heard you talking."

"Sorry," said his father. "I don't think it's a good idea. You haven't come of age yet, and there wouldn't be anyone to stay home with the girls."

"I'd be ready to come of age if they hadn't cancelled all the Young Gatherings," Moki retorted. "And the girls are more than half grown! They can take care of themselves."

"No, I'm sorry, but no," his father said firmly. "They wouldn't know what to say if the Patrol came poking around. Shona would probably tell them she dreamed about food in the bed and they'd take her away to the crazy hole."

Torus laughed, but Moki just scowled at the ground.

"It's not fair," he said. "I should be coming of age at the next moon."

Torus was surprised to notice how big his brother had become. He was nearly Torus's size already, and looked as if he would continue to grow for some time.

"Next time," he said to Moki. "Next time you'll come out with me and Dad'll stay home, okay?"

Moki looked up and then mumled, "Alright..."

"I'll start teaching you about coming of age stuff, too, so when the Young Gatherings start up again you'll have a head start."

Moki seemed mollified, and by the time Torus and his father started out he was back to rough-housing with his sisters like normal.

That night, when the building was dark and quiet, Torus and Nolki made their way to the north dumpster, slipping quietly through side tunnels and avoiding any other rats. The few rats they did see seemed just as eager to avoid meeting anyone, so their journey passed without a word.

The way to the dumpster led through a basement wall, up the back wall of the building, and finally out a broken drainpipe in a concrete alcove in the back of the building. This dumpster was smaller than the others, and so seemed fuller, and like the others was fed by a long, square metal chute that ran all the way up to the top floor of the building. The human occupants of the building put their garbage in plastic or paper bags and dropped them down the chute to the dumpster. Once a week, giant trucks came and emptied the dumpsters and the day they were empty was rest day. Torus couldn't keep track of the days, but he guessed by how full the dumpster was that the trucks would be coming soon.

He and his father clambered up the side and into the big metal box and then he followed his father over to the darkest corner. His father nosed around for a moment, and then started pulling at a newspaper that lay crumpled in the dark.

"Excellent!" he whispered at last. "Wonderful! It's still here." He pulled a lumpy package from under the collected trash and pulled it over to better light. Torus could see it was indeed a whole package of hotdogs, with only one missing.

"Why is it here?" he asked while his father hurriedly opened the package and started putting hotdogs in their pouches. "Why would humans throw this much food away?

"I dunno," he muttered. "Maybe it was a mistake, or maybe they thought something was wrong with them. It doesn't matter, though, now we have them. This will keep us through the next rest day and more, I'll bet."

Once the sausages were secured in their pouches, Torus and his father headed back into the building and began making their way back home.

"This is great," said his father. "Just like the old days. Just two rats out foraging for their family. No teams, no stockpile, just bags full of food."

Torus struggled to keep up, hauling the heavy bag behind him.

"These are heavy," he said. "I wish we had a sledge."

"Speaking of sledges," his father said, "I was poking around the tunnel under the street the other day and I found a wrecked sledge in there. It looked like the one we made, way back when, remember?"

Torus stayed silent.

"Remember?" his father persisted.

"Yeah, I remember, but how could you tell? All the sledges look alike, don't they?"

"No, this one was ours. I recognized your work."

Torus laughed, nervously.

"No you didn't," he said.

"Yes I did," said his father. "Everyone knows your work. The things you make really stand out."

Torus, tried to dismiss the issue with a nonchalant "Huh..." but he suddenly remembered the wreckage of his failed flying machine and wondered if anyone would find it, and if they would know who made it if they did.

"Weird," continued his father. "Finding a wrecked sledge way out there." He turned briefly and looked back at Torus. "Do you have any idea how it got there?"

Torus stopped, panting, and shook his head.

"No," he said, trying to catch his breath. "I haven't seen it since it was commandeered by the Forage Committee."

His father gave him a long, penetrating gaze.

"All right," he said finally. "Good answer."

He turned and started off again, leading the way back toward home

After a short while Torus called up to him.

"Can we rest for a minute? I'm dying..."

"Okay," his father said, also panting. "A little rest will be okay, I guess."

They sat for a moment in silence, and then Torus asked, "Do you trust the Leaders?"

His father gave him a sharp glance.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I dunno, do you think they're really doing what's best for the Clan? I mean, you never see them out foraging or building or cleaning, and when you do see them, they don't look very hungry..."

"No, they don't," his father acknowledged. "I guess rank has its privileges."

"What does that mean?" asked Torus.

"It means the rats on the top of the pile get first pick, I guess."

"Huh," Torus grunted.

"What about you?" his father asked. "Do you trust them?"

"I don't know," Torus said, warily. "Some of them are okay, I guess. Dinnick seems like he wants things to be good for everyone, and the Chief, I guess."

"Yes," said his father, "when he knows what's going on..."

"Exactly," said Torus. "What's that all about? And is Nogolo just trying to help the Chief, like he says, or is he trying to take over?"

"Well, the Chief is really old, older than your grandparents, maybe even my grandparents. When rats get old sometimes their minds get loose and all we can do is help them get along. I don't know about Nogolo, but he's got a reputation for getting things done. Rats seem to do what he wants them to, even if they don't entirely agree with him." He got up, picked up the strap to his pouch and they started off again.

"But do you trust him?" Torus persisted.

"That's a complicated question," his father replied. "I don't know if I completely trust him, but I don't think _I_ could do his job, and I don't know many other rats who could. Without leaders to keep the Clan organized, things could get really mixed up here, with everyone fighting for food and places to live, and no one doing any cleaning so we can't hide from the humans so well. The leaders help keep things running smoothly so we can all be secure in our homes. And they need us to be content and willing to be led by them, so they probably wouldn't do anything that was going to make everyone too mad or there would be a revolt."

"So you don't trust them?"

"I trust them to not do anything too horrible," his father said. "Now that's enough of that. You don't need to be known as someone who stirs things up..."

"What do you mean?" said Torus, trying to keep the apprehension out of his voice.

"Well, like with the sledge out in the tunnel. If someone else finds that and recognizes it as your work, they might think you were up to something out there." He paused, considering what to say. "I don't know what all you and your friends do when you're hanging out, and I know you've come of age and I can't really tell you what to do or not do, but I hope you're not being too risky."

"Risky like what?" said Torus.

"I don't know, young rats do some crazy things," his father said. "I guess it's normal to explore and try things, but it's a dangerous world for rats. There's traps and poison hidden in food, and cats and dogs and humans everywhere. It only takes one human to see one rat and then they could gas the whole building."

"Yeah, I know all that," said Torus. "You don't need to worry about me."

"Oh, I know," said his father. "Except I can't help it. I probably worry more about Moki than you, but I worry about all you pups sometimes." He paused, thoughtfully. "You know, bad things happen all the time, and the older I get, the more it piles up and the more I worry..."

"Bad stuff like what? Like with Mom?"

His father glanced at him briefly, and then nodded silently.

"What happened then?" Torus continued. "I just remember she got sick and then all of a sudden she was gone."

"I don't know," his father replied. "No one knows. Maybe some poison, maybe an illness of some kind...Nile couldn't figure it out, and it happened so fast..."

Torus was sorry he'd brought it up, and the silence stretched out awkwardly.

"You were really small," his father finally said. "I guess I tried to protect you from it. I mean, rats go into darkness all the time, but when it's in your own den..." He paused and took a deep breath.

"Yeah," said Torus, not knowing what else to say.

His father stood up and shook his head as if to clear it.

"Life is hard for a rat," he said, squinting into the distance. "Just be careful. That's all I'm asking."

He hoisted his bag and headed off, with Torus following behind.

When they got home, Moki was waiting at the back of the den with the girls. As big as he was, he looked like a small, nervous pup, and was visibly relieved to see Torus and Nolki return.

"Shoo, I'm glad you're back," he said. "While you were gone someone came and called down the entrance for you. I think it was the Patrol."

"Really?" said his father. "What happened?"

"Nothing. We just kept quiet and they went away, but I heard them say something about coming back."

"Did they? What did they say, exactly, do you remember?"

Moki shook his head and was about to speak when a voice came in from outside.

"Nolki? Are you in?"

"Who's there?" called Nolki, gesturing rapidly to Torus to hide the food they had brought.

"Patrol," said the voice. "May we enter?"

"Just a moment," called Nolki, heading to the entrance.

Torus tried frantically to think of a place he could stash the food quickly, but before he could do anything Patrol Commander Dumash came into the room without waiting to be invited. He was smiling and friendly, as always, and his large belly nearly brushed the floor as he waddled in. Torus and Nolki both froze in their places.

"Good to see you, friend," said Dumash to Nolki. Then he nodded to the others. "Torus. Pups. We came by earlier and there was no answer." He paused and smiled again. "All out for a little family forage?"

"No," said Nolki. "That is, yes, Torus and I were out looking around, and the pups were here, but I've asked them to keep quiet when...things being what they are, you know..." He trailed off, struggling to look the big rat in the eye.

"Certainly," said Dumash agreeably. "I completely understand." He called out over his shoulder. "Come on in, boys. Nolki's home now." There was a scuffling outside, and then a tall, young rat Torus didn't recognize came in, followed at length by a reluctant Chello, who was carrying his knitting needle awkwardly, as if he wished he could hide it behind his back. Torus tried to catch his eye, but he kept his gaze lowered and stayed as far away from the other Patrol Officers as he could.

Dumash wandered further into the room, gazing around nonchalantly.

"Well, did you have any luck? The Clan surely appreciates your extra efforts." He stopped in front of Torus and gazed at him evenly. "We'll be happy to save you the trouble of bringing the Clan's portion to the Stockpile."

Torus was unable to continue meeting his gaze and dropped his eyes. He stood there, holding the straps to the two pouches, and glanced sideways at his father. Nolki clenched his jaw and nodded resignedly.

"Yeah," said Torus, finally, gesturing feebly with the pouches. "We found a little..."

"Excellent" said Dumash, stepping back and giving a signal to the tall rat. He stepped over to Torus and took the pouches from Torus clumsily. He pulled them over to where Dumash and Chello could see them opened them up.

Dumash's eyes widened when he saw the contents.

"Well, well, well!" he said, with an admiring glance to Nolki. "This is quite a find!"

"My success is the Clan's good fortune," said Nolki, quietly.

"Right you are!" replied Dumash. Chello and the other young rat made a move to start emptying the pouches, but Dumash stopped them.

"No, no, no," he said. "It will be easier to take the pouches out to the sledge and then bring the pouches back with the family's share." He led the way out, and Chello and the other rat exchanged uncomfortable glances and followed him.

Torus and the pups gathered around Nolki and waited. There was some muffled discussion outside, but Torus couldn't catch any words. Presently, though, Chello and the tall rat came back in and handed the pouches to Nolki. The pouches seemed much lighter than before, and when his father looked inside his ears went red to the tips.

"Just one?" he said, looking sharply at the two Patrol Officers. "Our share is supposed to be two parts in three. We should have at least four of them, if not more."

Chello was silent and the other rat mumbled uncomfortably.

"P. C. Dumash says that with two foragers and the pups nearly grown that there are other...needier rats you would be happy to contribute...to their...welfare..." He trailed off and turned away and out the door, leaving Chello standing alone facing the family.

There was an awkward pause, until Moki broke the silence.

"Chello! Why do you let them do this?"

Chello shrugged miserably and looked at the floor.

"It's just the way it is, MiniMouse," he said.

"Don't call me that!" said Moki. "I'm as big as you now, and I'm gonna get bigger, and then you won't be coming here like this anymore!"

Dumash called down the entrance.

"Time to move on, Officer!" Chello turned to leave, and was almost at the entrance when Nolki spoke.

"Chello! Tell Dumash his wisdom will be rewarded. Tell him that from me."

Chello nodded glumly and turned away, leaving the family standing in the middle of the room with one limp hotdog in an otherwise empty bag.

* * *

Chapter Twenty Three

A few days later Torus sitting at home working on a small building project when Nevi's voice came down the entrance tunnel.

"Hey, Torus, are you in there?" she called.

"Yeah, come on down," he replied, distractedly. He barely looked up when she came in, followed by Chello.

"Hello," said Chello, awkwardly.

"Hi," said Torus, bending a piece of wire into a loop.

"We waited for you down at the alley, but you never showed up," said Nevi.

"Yeah, I didn't want to waste my time," he replied. He put down the wire and picked up a piece of cardboard and started shaping it with his teeth.

"So we came up here to see if you were here," she continued.

Torus picked a bit of cardboard out of his teeth and then continued nibbling, speaking around the edge of the piece.

"Yup, I'm here," he said. "Sorry I don't have anything to offer you."

"Hey, listen," said Chello, "about the other night – "

"Don't worry about it," said Torus. He stopped nibbling and spat out another bit of soggy paper. "Pha! This stuff tastes horrible. Don't worry about the other night," he continued. "Everyone's got a job to do, right?"

"Yeah, but it stinks what we're doing now," said Chello. "I'm going to try to get out of the Patrol in the spring. Maybe I'll be a Scout."

"You're too noisy to be a Scout," said Nevi. Then she turned to Torus and continued, "So, anyway, we came to get you because we heard there's an apartment on the third floor that the human just moved out last night, and there's all kinds of stuff still there. We thought maybe we'd go check it out before it gets foraged or before the other humans clean it all out."

Torus sat back and looked at the scattered pieces of wire and cardboard and finally said, "Okay, that sounds good. Better than this, anyway."

"What are you doing?" asked Chello.

"Nothing," said Torus, evasively. "Trying out some flying ideas..."

He got up and the three of them turned for the tunnel.

"Are you going to keep trying that?" asked Nevi, nervously.

"Probably not," said Torus. "Maybe only one more time, if you know what I mean."

"Stop it!" she said.

"Yeah," said Chello as they headed off down the tunnel. "You'd splat like an egg. No one wants to clean up a mess like that. OW!" He looked around at Nevi, rubbing his shoulder and laughing. "What was that for?"

"You just shut up," she said.

Torus looked over at her and noticed she was wearing a cloak. "Is that the cloak your mom made again?" he asked.

"No," she said, "this one's mine. I made it." She stopped and held out the hem for him to see. "Do you like it?"

"It's nice," he said thoughtfully. "It's hard to see you in the dark, though."

"I know," she said. "That's why I chose this cloth with the pattern on it."

"I guess it makes scouting easier, right?"

"Yeah, and it makes me feel kind of cozy and safe, even when I'm out in the open."

"Cozy?" mocked Chello. "You want to feel 'cozy' while you're out scouting?"

"Everybody likes to feel cozy, you jerk," she said amiably. "I'll make you one, if you want."

"Only if it can be bright red so I can strike fear into the hearts of my enemies," he said.

"I'll try one," said Torus, thoughtfully. "I think I have some cloth that will work at home. Remind me later and I'll get it and you can show me how you do it."

They walk a while in silence, and then Chello spoke suddenly.

"I'm serious about the red," he said. "I'll find the cloth if you'll make it for me."

"Sure," said Nevi, smiling at Torus. "We'll make Chello the most fearsome red rat on the whole block!"

They reached the apartment and worked their way in through a gap under a cabinet in the bathroom. The room was dark, but Torus could tell it was piled with human stuff. They made their way out, through the bedroom, into the main room. Everywhere they looked they saw stacks of boxes and piles of papers, bundles of things they could barely recognize, and heaps of things they couldn't figure out at all. They walked along a tidy path that led from room to room while the piles of collected things towered above them.

"Wow," said Chello, under his breath. "I thought Nile was bad."

"What did it do with all this stuff?" asked Torus. "What's it all for?"

"Who knows," said Chello. "Humans are weird about their stuff. They just keep getting more and more of it and they just stack it up and never do anything with it."

"This human lived by itself," said Nevi. "It was probably lonely. Old rats who live alone fill up their dens with stuff, too."

"Whatever," said Chello. "Where's the kitchen? I'm starved."

They followed the path through the main room to the kitchen, which was also piled with junk on every surface. It didn't take long for Chello to find his way to a cupboard full of boxes of food. Soon the three were sitting on all sides of a freshly opened package of cookies. For Torus, it felt like the first full meal he had had in weeks. He was still eating when Chello rolled onto his back and groaned with pleasure.

"Ooooh, thank you human!" he said. Then, after a pause, "You're sure it's gone, right?"

"Yes," said Nevi, nibbling the edge of her second cookie. "I saw it leave last night. It stuffed a bunch of things into a bag and a box with a handle, and then it left."

"What were you watching it for?"

"Why do you care?" she said, "I was scouting, that's all you need to know."

"Okay," said Chello, agreeably. "Whatever you say. What if it comes back?"

"I don't think it will," said Nevi. "It left its keys up on the counter there and it didn't lock the door. I asked Mr. Nile about it and he said it's never a good thing when humans leave in the middle of the night."

"You've been to see him?" asked Torus. "How is he?"

Nevi shook her head.

"He's not getting any better yet. He's still really weak but he won't let anyone do anything for him."

"Crazy old rat," said Chello, getting up with a grunt. "I'm gonna look around." He wandered off into the main room while Torus and Nevi continued eating.

"So what happens to all this stuff?" asked Torus.

"I think the other humans will come and take it away. Maybe throw it away, or take what they can use, I guess. The same as us, more or less." She waved her cookie around the kitchen. "And we'll come and forage until they do, and get as much of the food as we can get away with without giving ourselves away." She took the last bite of her cookie and said, "Are you done? We should put this back where we got it so it doesn't look suspicious."

"Suspicious to who?" asked Torus. "The humans or the forage leaders?"

"Exactly!" she said.

They had just finished putting the package away when Chello called to them from the other room.

"Hey, come and look at this!"

They followed his voice to the far side of the room and saw him sitting on top of a large table. They clambered up the piles of stuff until they reached him and then stood beside him gazing mystified at what they saw.

Unlike the rest of the apartment, the top of the table was mostly clear, with just a few objects placed carefully in orderly rows. Some of them were obviously tools of some kind, long, wooden sticks with tufts of bristles at the end, other wooden sticks with pointed ends or chisel-shaped tips. There were several sticks of the kind Torus had taken on the raid, but longer, and all different colors. Nearby, there were several metal tubes with plastic caps, like toothpaste tubes, but smaller, and in different colors like the sticks. On the other side of the table was a small wooden box full of little colored bottles, and another box with assorted strange objects in it.

In the middle of the table, rising far above the rats' heads, was a large rectangular board, propped up on a frame, and the board was covered with streaks and splotches of color.

"Wow," said Chello finally. "What is it?"

"I don't know," said Nevi. "It used to sit here a lot and do stuff, but I couldn't see what it was doing."

"Humans are so weird," said Chello.

Torus stared at the colored board and studied it. He had a feeling he could almost recognize it, but he couldn't quite work it out. Then suddenly something clicked in his mind and he spoke.

"It's a human," he said.

"No it's not," said Chello. "It's just a mess."

"No, look," said Torus, pointing. "There's two eyes, and a nose, and that could be a mouth there, and these marks here show the shape of the face."

"I don't know..." said Nevi uncertainly.

"Definitely not," said Chello.

"And up there, all those black marks are its fur on the top of its head, right?" Torus continued.

Nevi's eyes lit up.

"Oh, I see!" she said suddenly. "It _is_ a human!" She turned to Chello. "You see it, don't you?"

"I...guess so," he said, looking at the board perplexed. "It doesn't look much like any human I've ever seen, though."

"Maybe that's how they see themselves," Nevi suggested. "I mean, they talk strangely, maybe they see strangely, too..."

"Strange is right," said Chello, tearing his eyes away from the picture and moving across the table. Torus followed him and started rummaging through the box of mixed up pieces of metal. Most of them were things he couldn't identify, and he started taking them out one at a time, examining them.

"It looks kind of like the human that left last night," said Nevi suddenly from where she sat still gazing at the picture.

"All humans look alike," said Chello without looking up from the little red tube he was holding.

"No, I think it is," she replied. "I mean, it doesn't look exactly like it, but somehow it looks the same." She paused, thoughtfully. "It looks sad."

"So you're telling me that this human took all this colored stuff and made a messed up picture of itself to watch over all its stuff when it left?" Chello asked skeptically.

"Sure, why not?" said Nevi, sullenly.

"I think humans are crazy," he said, coming back to sit beside her. "Or you are," he added. "Or both."

"Hey, look at this," Torus called. He held up a slender, tubular metal handle with a sharp triangular blade fixed to one end.

Chello sauntered over and examined it. It was very light and the edge of the blade glinted in the dim light.

"That's wicked sharp," he said, admiringly.

"Yeah," said Torus. "I bet it could cut cardboard and stuff way better than my teeth."

Chello nodded slowly, squinting at the sharp tip of the blade. "You could also poke pigeons with it, I'll bet." He handed it back to Torus, who hefted it in his paws.

"It feels more like a tool to me than a weapon," he said. "But I guess you're right..."

"If you don't want it, I'll take it," Chello offered.

"No, I think I'll keep it," said Torus. "I'm not sure you can be trusted with so much sharpness."

"Hey, we should get going," said Nevi. "The forage will start soon and I'm pretty sure they'll be coming here."

"What makes you so sure?" asked Chello. "Why can't we keep this place secret?"

"Because I'm not the only Scout in the building," she replied impatiently. "Come on."

She descended from the table and headed down the path back to the bathroom, followed by Torus carrying his new tool awkwardly. At the far side of the room, she called up to Chello, who was still sitting on the table, looking thoughtfully at the tube of red paint in his hands.

"Chello, come on," she called. "What are you thinking?"

"I think I'm going to keep this," he said, shuffling casually to the edge of the table and starting the climb down.

"Keep that?" she said. "What for?"

"It's red," he said, as if it was obvious. "I like red."

Nevi and Torus exchanged a puzzled glance as he passed them and headed through the apartment to the tunnel to leave.

* * *

Chapter Twenty Four

During the forage that night, Arkon crept up beside Torus while he was working alone and whispered intently. "Torus, I need your help. Can you meet me after the forage?"

"Sure, I guess so," said Torus. "What's going on?"

"I need you to help me get something and I don't know how to get there."

"Okay, but what – "

"Quiet, you two!" hissed the forage leader. "You want the humans to hear you?" The new forage leader was a stranger, a burly rat from the third floor, assigned by the new Forage Compliance Committee.

"Meet me outside the Stockpile," breathed Arkon, and he shuffled away.

Torus nodded silently and continued rummaging through the humans' trash. He found a peanut and looked up to see the forage leader still watching him. He slipped the peanut in his pouch and gave the leader a big thumbs up. The leader sniffed and turned away to watch some other rats. Torus considered trying to sneak the nut back out of his bag and eating it, but decided it was too risky.

For the rest of the night he kept trying to get close to Arkon to get more information, but someone was always watching so it wasn't until after they had returned to the stockpile, unloaded their food, and gotten their own rations that he had a chance to speak to him.

"So what's up?" he asked as they headed back toward their homes.

"I need you to show me the way someplace," Arkon said tensely.

"I know, you said that," said Torus. "Where? What for?"

"I...I don't know, exactly," said Arkon. "Mr. Nile said you'd know how to get there, but he wasn't able to tell me much about it."

"Much about what? What's going on?"

"Mr. Nile needs medicine," said Arkon. "I've been going there to help him out and he just keeps getting sicker. I've tried to get him to tell me what I can do to help him, but he always just says the same 'I just need to rest' thing."

Torus nodded, and Arkon continued.

"But tonight finally I guess he decided to admit how sick he is and he told me there's some medicine that might help. Some special kind of medicine, and he said you would know how to get it."

"Why would I know?" said Torus. "Where is it?"

"He said a friend of his could get it and that you knew his friend and could go there and get it from him." Arkon paused uncertainly. "At least, that's what I think he said. He seems kind of confused."

"Is it Mr. Gumble?" asked Torus suddenly. "That cat?"

"It's a _cat_?" said Arkon, alarmed. "He said that name, but I thought it was just another rat. I don't know if we should go see a cat..."

"It's alright," said Torus. "This cat really _is_ a friend of Nile's. But how do we know what to ask him for?"

"I've got this," said Arkon, taking a slip of paper out of his pouch and pointing to the markings on it. "These mean the kind of medicine he needs."

Torus held the paper and squinted at it. He recognized the markings as being similar to markings that were found all over human food packages and different kinds of paper. He wasn't able to tell one from another, though, and he handed the paper back to Arkon.

"I hope this makes sense to that cat," he said. "It just looks like pigeon scratches to me.

Arkon looked at him quizzically.

"Really?" he said. "Haven't you ever looked at the marks on different packages of food?"

"Not really," said Torus. "They all look alike to me."

"But you can learn to tell them apart," said Arkon, excitedly. "You can figure out that certain shapes mean crackers, for instance, and others mean, I don't know, like corn or something. You can totally go into a human's kitchen and pick out what you want, if you figure it out."

"Okay, if you say so," said Torus. "You can just look at the pictures, too. But how does that help us with this?"

"I can find the right thing," said Arkon. "You just get me there and I'll take care of the rest."

"Okay," said Torus, "but first I have to take this food home. Meet me at the old elevator in ten minutes."

Torus rushed home and quickly stashed the food he had brought in the food nook. His father wasn't back yet, so he told Moki to go ahead and eat what he wanted, to share with his sisters, and to let their father know he'd be back later.

By the time he got to the elevator, Arkon was already there.

"Okay, so which way do we go?" he asked excitedly.

"Well, we start inside the elevator shaft, and then I'll just have to feel my way," Torus replied. "Nevi really knows the way better. Maybe we should get her..."

"No, she's with Chello, up at Mr. Nile's house," said Arkon. "I think Flinka and Juke are there, too."

"What for?" asked Torus.

"Making sure he eats, helping him keep warm. That kind of thing," said Arkon.

"Is he really that sick?" asked Torus.

Arkon nodded seriously.

"I don't know if he'll make it, even if we find this," he said, holding up the paper. "He's been sick for so long without taking care of it..."

"Well, let's go then," said Torus, starting off.

He was surprised to find he remembered the way pretty well, and only had to double back once when he missed the vent heading up to Mr. Gumble's apartment.

When they got there, they found the cat as usual lying in his bed in the kitchen. Arkon was quite nervous at first, but followed Torus into the room anyway, keeping one eye on the open vent in case he needed to escape.

Torus explained what they needed, and Mr. Gumble nodded.

"Mumsy has lots of pills," he said. "They're all on a shelf in the bathroom. I'm sure we can find what you need."

"That's great!" said Torus. "Arkon here knows what to look for."

"Can you read?" asked Arkon suddenly.

"Of course I can read," said the cat, indignantly. "Whenever Mumsy has a book or a magazine or a newspaper out I lay on top of it and read with her."

"Oh, good!" said Arkon. "Can you read this?" he asked, showing her the scrap of paper.

"Oh, no, that's much too small for reading," said the cat. "I could barely fit one paw on it, let alone recline leisurely."

"Reclining leisurely isn't reading," said Arkon. "These marks mean things, and reading is knowing what they mean."

"That's ridiculous," the cat sniffed. "Reading means lying on Mumsy's book while she scratches me on my tummy and says, 'I'm reading, you naughty kitty.' That's reading."

Torus stifled a laugh. He knew they weren't in any danger from the cat, still he thought it was better not to anger him.

"That's fine, then," he said. "Can you show us the pills? Then Arkon can find what he wants."

"Very well," said the cat diffidently. "This way..."

He headed off in what Torus thought was meant to be a haughty saunter, but was more like a rolling, fluffy waddle. The two rats followed him through the kitchen into the bedroom and then to the bathroom. The apartment could hardly have been more different than the one he had visited earlier with Nevi and Chello. The floor was spotlessly clean, without a crumb of food anywhere, and there were only a few items placed tidily on the tops of the furniture. The bathroom was gleaming, and Torus could see a shelf above the back of the toilet with neat rows of small bottles and boxes.

"Up there," said Mr. Gumble. "Mumsy brings home pills and uses some and then forgets the rest, so there they sit, until spring, when she throws them all away and starts over."

"How do we get them?" asked Torus.

"Like this," said the cat, jumping up onto the toilet. He reached up with his paws and with one quick motion knocked all the containers off onto the floor, where they rattled and rolled to every corner of the small room.

The rats dodged the falling objects and then Arkon ran from one to the next, comparing the marks on his paper to the marks on the labels of the bottles. It took a long time, and Torus started to get nervous.

"When does your human come back?" he asked the cat.

"Oh, any time now, said the cat lazily, licking a paw. "Why?"

"Here it is!" said Arkon suddenly, holding up a small plastic bottle with three white tablets in it. "See, this mark and that one and that one...they all match!"

"Great!" said Torus. "Take one of them out and we'll get out of here."

"How do you get them out?" Arkon asked the cat.

"I don't know, of course," he replied. "Mumsy opens them, and Nile has a tool of some kind, I think."

They were interrupted by the sound of keys in the lock of the front door.

"What's that?" Arkon asked tensely.

"Run!" said Torus, grabbing the bottle from him. "We have to get out now!"

They scampered out through the bedroom and skidded across the kitchen floor, just ducking behind the vent as they heard the door open. This time Torus pulled the vent back into place and saw Mr. Gumble stroll casually into the kitchen and flop down onto his bed.

Torus and Arkon waited behind the vent, catching their breaths and watching the huge feet of Mr. Gumble's human shuffle through the kitchen and into the bedroom.

"Do you think it's okay we took the whole thing?" said Arkon.

"I guess so," said Torus, looking at the bottle in his hands. "Gumble said that Mumsy human just throws them away, so..."

Far away, they heard the voice of the human call out in loud, angry tones.

"What pills?" said Mr. Gumble, still lying on his bed, eyes closed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Torus and Arkon made their way back to Mr. Nile's house and entered to find him lying on his bed under a thin piece of cloth, with Nevi sitting on the floor beside him and Chello pulling on the string for the fan looking bored.

Nevi looked up when they came in.

"Did you get it?" she asked quietly. Torus held up the bottle for her to see and said, "Arkon figures it's the right one..."

Chello dropped the string and came over to look at the bottle.

"How do we get them out?" he asked, pulling on the white cap without success.

"I don't know," said Arkon. "Mr. Nile, do you have a tool we could use?"

The old rat shook his head weakly.

"No, I used to," he said, "but it's missing." He stopped an coughed painfully. "You could chew through the lid..."

"No, I don't want to take that much time," said Arkon. "Do you think we could break the bottle? It's just plastic."

"Sure," said Chello, excitedly, pointing to the far corner of the room. "Put it down over there." Arkon set the bottle down on its side and Chello tried to crack it by swinging at it with the blunt end of his knitting needle. He gave it a few good whacks, but only succeeded in making a few small chips in the surface.

Torus started rummaging through Mr. Nile's supplies to find something better and came back carrying a small steel ball the size of a grape.

"Here, try this," he said, handing it to Chello. Chello took the ball in both hands and brought it down on the bottle. It made a bigger chip in the plastic, but Chello lost his grip on the smooth surface of the ball and it rolled away across the floor. He picked it up and was about to try again when Torus stopped him.

"Wait a minute," he said. "I have an idea." He ran over to the supplies and found a roll of thick, gray tape which he rolled back over to Chello. "Give me your needle," he said.

"What for?" asked Chello suspiciously. "You're not putting that junk on Sticker, are you?"

"Just temporarily," said Torus, lining up the ball and the blunt end of the needle.

"Because that tape's all junky looking, and Sticker is shiny..." said Chello, nervously.

"Don't worry," said Torus. "You can take it off after we're done." Quickly, he tore off a strip of tape and attached the ball firmly to the end of the needle. With another couple of strips he solidified the joint and handed it back to Chello.

"Give that a try," he said.

"Okay," said Chello, eyeing the knob at the end of his weapon and testing the weight in his hands. "Stand back, okay? This seems dangerous."

He took the needle in both hands, swung the end up over his head and then down squarely on the small plastic bottle. There was a sharp crack, and it shattered into a dozen pieces that flew in every direction. The lid flipped up in the air and almost hit Chello in the head. The three pills lay on the floor among the plastic shards of the bottle. One of them had been partially crushed by the impact and when Arkon saw that he scowled at Chello. He found a piece of paper and started collecting the crumbled bits of medicine.

"Wow," said Chello, finally.

"I think you hit it a little hard," said Torus.

"Really?" said Arkon, folding up the paper with the pills inside. "A little hard, you think?" He walked away from them and started gathering what he needed to prepare the medicine for Mr. Nile.

"Here, give me your needle," said Torus. "I'll take that off now."

"No, that's okay," said Chello thoughtfully. He turned it around and held it with the point forward, testing the balance and weight of his modified weapon. "I think I'll keep it like this for a while..."

"Okay, if you're sure," said Torus. "At least it's still mostly shiny."

"Yeah..." replied Chello, shifting the needle from hand to hand, his eyes fixed on some spot in the distance.

Torus watched Arkon begin to prepare the medicine. He had gotten another piece of paper, and the same small file Mr. Nile had used before, and began rubbing one of the pills against it, making a small pile of fine, white powder on the paper.

"How do you know how to do that?" asked Torus.

"Mr. Nile's been teaching me," Arkon replied, still working.

"And how do you know that's the right stuff?" asked Chello, coming over to watch.

"It's in the book," said Arkon, pointing at a small bundle of papers on top of one of the stacks of supplies.

'The book' was apparently Mr. Nile's collection of information about human medicine. It was an irregular bundle of paper tied loosely at one edge with string. Torus took it down and leafed through it. On each leaf was a series of markings like the ones Arkon brought to Mr. Gumble's, along with a picture of a rat with some part drawn in a different color.

"Hey, be careful!" said Arkon, coming over hurriedly. "There's not anything else like this anywhere."

"This is amazing," said Torus. "Did he do all this?"

"Some of it," said Arkon, turning through the pages slowly. "Some of it he got from the rat that taught him, and some he figured out himself." He stopped at a certain page. "It's always growing and changing." He pointed to the page he had just stopped at. "See, this is the medicine we got today. See the markings?"

He pointed to them and ran his claw under them carefully. Torus shook his head in bewilderment, but Arkon didn't seem to notice.

"And see the picture of the rat? See the red here inside its chest? That's how we know what it's for. The red is like burning, so when a rat has burning in its chest, this is the right medicine."

"How do you do the pictures?" asked Chello. "How do you make it look like a rat?"

"Practice," said Mr. Nile from his place on the bed. "You know what a rat looks like, right? Just practice making marks on paper until they start to look like rats..."

"That's weird," said Chello. "It's like a human thing, right? Making marks and pictures like this? Only humans do this?"

Mr. Nile chuckled painfully.

"Humans believe that only they do it, yes," he said.

"Weird," Chello repeated, still hefting his needle in his hand.

Arkon brought the powdered medicine over to Mr. Nile.

"What do I do now? He asked. "How do you take it?"

"You can sprinkle it on food, or mix it with water and drink it," said Mr. Nile.

"Okay, what do you want, then?" said Arkon. "Some water? Do you have any food you want?"

"I don't have much appetite," said Mr. Nile. "There's some water and a cup over there by what food I have left." He lay back and closed his eyes while Arkon got the water and mixed a pinch of the powder into it.

Mr. Nile sat up and started sipping at it, and was nearly finished when Flinka and Juke arrived. Flinka seemed even more agitated than usual, but Juke was as impassive as ever. He went over to Mr. Nile's bed and took an object out of his pouch.

"I brought you this," he said. "It's chocolate."

Mr. Nile smiled appreciatively.

"Thank you Juke, that's very thoughtful."

"How did you get that?" said Torus. "I thought all the chocolate was reserved for the greater good."

"I just took it," said Juke. "No one said anything to me."

"Did anyone _see_ you?" asked Chello, grinning pointedly.

"Probably not," said Juke shortly, but a rare smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"I told him not to do it," said Flinka sharply, "but he snuck into the stockpile and took it anyway." She shook her head quickly. "He makes me so crazy!" she said. "It's not like I have enough to worry about with the new cleaning assignment, now he has to risk us getting in trouble for stealing food on our way over here!" She smiled and punched him gently on the shoulder, and he looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable.

"What new assignment?" asked Nevi. "I didn't hear anything from my mom."

"It's new just today," said Flinka. "Your mom probably knows more about it since she's the crew leader, but I know enough to know it stinks!"

"Well what is it?"

"It's the pigeons!" said Flinka, as if she could hardly believe it. "The pigeons in the attic! They've been there for a couple of moons now, and suddenly 'the cleanliness of the space is insufficient to our guests' requirements.' Nogolo called the crew together and told us we would have to go start cleaning it up once a week. Once a week! Can you believe that? He said in return we could maybe get some access to the park again, but I'm guessing probably not."

She paused, and when she spoke again her voice was shaking.

"I can't do it," she said. "They scare me! They fly down and that thing happens and I can't think and I hate it. I hate it!"

Juke reached out awkwardly and put a paw on her shoulder and she leaned against him.

"I'm going up there tomorrow."

"Mr. Nile," said Nevi, "what is that? Do you know the thing she's talking about?"

"It's called The Panic," said Mr. Nile. "It's an ancient rat survival mechanism. When something flies down at you in a certain way your mind stops and your body takes over. It finds the quickest way to safety and runs there as fast as it can. Once you're safe, your mind returns and you can go on." He handed the cup back to Arkon. "It's fascinating, really."

"I think it's creepy," said Flinka, and the others nodded in agreement. "What good does it do?"

"Well, some think it's because your body can act faster if you're not thinking," said Mr. Nile. "And others think it's so you won't be troubled if you _are_ taken."

"Taken?" said Chello.

"Hunted," said Nile. "Captured. Killed, in other words. Some old rats call it The Little Darkness because it protects you from fear at the end." He closed his eyes and lay back in his bed. "Not my first choice, but I suppose it has something to recommend it..."

"Well I hate it," said Flinka, "and I think those pigeons do it to us for fun and I'm not going!"

"Listen," said Nevi, "what if these cloaks help? That one time at the dumpster when they flew down at us – " She stopped suddenly and looked over at Mr. Nile. His eyes were closed and he spoke quietly.

"I'm asleep, my dear. I can't hear a thing," he said.

Nevi smiled and continued.

"That time when they flew down at us it didn't happen to me. I thought at the time it was because they didn't see me, but what if it was because with my head and body all covered I felt safe enough that it didn't happen? Does that make sense?"

"Perfect sense," said Mr. Nile sleepily.

"I don't know..." said Flinka, uncertainly.

"I think we should try it," said Nevi. "You really do feel safer in one. When are you going up?"

"They want us to start tomorrow," said Flinka, and Torus suddenly had a paralyzing thought.

"Well, come over to my place after this and me and my mom will help you make one, okay?" said Nevi.

While Nevi and Flinka made plans, Torus pulled Chello aside and whispered intently.

"What am I going to do? The wrecked flying machine is still somewhere up there! If the cleaning crew finds it they'll know I built it and then they'll know we were up to something and figure out it was us that started the whole mess!"

Chello stared at him, at a loss for words.

"I have to go get it," said Torus. "I have to go tonight!"

* * *

Chapter Twenty Five

Late that night, far past midnight, Torus awoke with a start. He had tried to stay awake after the family had gone to sleep, but he was exhausted, and wound up sleeping until nearly dawn. He slid silently off the bed to avoid waking his family, and crept across the floor toward the entrance. He was nearly out of the den when suddenly he found himself nose to nose with another rat in the darkness. His heart leapt into this throat, but he stifled his urge to yell. The other rat was apparently surprised as well, because he jumped straight up into the air and turned around running before he hit the ground. He scampered out into the main tunnel with Torus chasing him, until he stopped a short way down the tunnel and turned around to face him.

It was Moki, staring at Torus in panic, with his eyes wide and every inch of fur standing straight out. Torus laughed with a mixture of aggravation and relief.

"Moki!" he whispered. "What are you _doing_?"

"What are _you_ doing," Moki replied, trying to catch his breath.

"No, you first," said Torus. "You're the one sneaking back in while was sneaking out, so for the moment you're in more trouble than me."

Moki started to calm down, and his fur started to level out. Even so, he was nearly as big as Torus now, and Torus was struck by how grown-up he seemed, even though he still acted like a pup.

"I was out looking for something to eat," Moki finally said. "I gave most of mine to the girls last night, and then I woke up hungry, so I went out looking." He paused, and then continued defiantly. "It's not a big deal," he said. "I've been doing it forever."

"It _is_ a big deal," said Torus. "Does Dad know?"

"I dunno, probably," said Moki. "He knows all about what you do, so I guess he knows what we're all doing, right?"

"What does he know?" asked Torus, suddenly apprehensive. "I don't do anything..."

"He knows all about the gang you hang out with," said Moki. "He knows you're up to something with them."

"It's not a gang," said Torus. "And we're not up to anything..."

"Sure," said Moki. "So what are you doing now? Meeting up with them in the middle of the night to plan more trouble?"

"No," said Torus, "I'm...going to look for something to eat..."

"Whatever," said Moki dismissively. "Good luck with that, I didn't find anything." He turned and headed back toward the den. "I'm going back to bed."

Torus watched him leave for a moment, and then the thought of heading up to the attic alone filled him with a sudden anxiety.

"Hey, Moki," he called quietly. "Come back here for a second."

Moki turned and shuffled back.

"What is it?" he asked irritably.

Torus wasn't sure how to start. "You're half right about me and my friends," he said finally. "We _were_ planning something, but it didn't work out, and now I have to go take care of something so it doesn't get worse."

"Hah!" said Moki, gleefully. "I knew it!"

"Knew what?" said Torus, confused. "I thought you said Dad..."

"Oh, Dad doesn't know anything," said Moki. "He just thinks you're chasing Nevi around all the time."

"What does he mean 'chasing?'" said Torus uncomfortably. "Does he mean _chasing_ chasing, or just hanging around?"

"I think he means _chasing_ chasing," said Moki, grinning.

"Well that's just weird," said Torus.

"I know, right?" said Moki.

Torus shook his head to clear his thoughts and changed the subject.

"Okay, so anyway I have to go do something," he said. "Do you want to come along?"

"Sure," said Moki, "is there food?"

"Probably not," said Torus, heading off. "And we have to be back before anyone knows we're gone, so let's go."

Along the way, Torus explained to Moki the plan they had put together for the raid and what had happened.

"Wow," said Moki, sounding impressed.

"You can't tell anyone it was us, okay?" said Torus.

"Sure," said Moki, casually. "So what are we doing now?"

Torus explained about his idea for a flying machine and how it had failed and how they had left the wreck where it fell and now he had to go retrieve it. As he talked, he led the way along the tunnels and passages that led finally to the secret entrance to the attic.

"The attic?" said Moki, sounding alarmed. "Are you crazy? It's full of pigeons!"

"I know," said Torus, "and tomorrow the cleaning crew is going up there and if they find the machine I'll get banished, so come on."

He made his way through the tunnel and then paused just inside the entrance to the attic space. He could smell the strange scent of the birds and the cold winter air that blew in through the broken windows. He turned and whispered to Moki.

"I think they sleep at night," he said, "so we should be okay. But be careful. Try to stay in the shadows."

Moki nodded silently, and his whiskers quivered excitedly. They crept out into the attic space and Torus gazed around in the dim light. He looked up and his breath caught in his throat. Nearly every surface above floor level was lined with sleeping pigeons. The top of every stack of boxes, the windowsills, the rafters, even the exposed wooden frames of the walls provided roosting spots for what looked like hundreds of birds, huddled shoulder to shoulder with their heads tucked under their wings. Torus listened carefully, and could hear the combined sound of their soft breathing, and an occasional quiet chuckling sound as one of them murmured in its sleep.

"Shooooo!" breathed Moki at his side. "How many are there?"

Torus shook his head.

"All of them, I think." He gazed around again, carefully scanning the birds for any that were awake. "I don't think they have any guards," he said finally. "Let's go."

They had only gone a few steps when he heard a stifled wail from behind him.

"Eeeeew!" said Moki. "Pigeon...stuff."

"Yeah," said Torus. "Pigeon droppings. What did you expect?"

"Ick! It's everywhere!" said Moki.

"So walk on your tippy toes, then,"

"I am," said Moki. "This is so gross!"

They picked their way carefully along the shadows, keeping an eye on the birds above, while Torus tried to remember exactly where he had left the machine. He found his way to the high stack of boxes he had launched from and looked out across the wide expanse of floor he had crashed on.

Moki looked up at the top of the stack, and at the pigeons huddled far above them.

"You jumped off that?" he said, incredulously.

Torus nodded grimly and crept cautiously out into the open space. It wasn't as dark there, and he felt exposed in the splotchy light that fell from the windows. He looked through them to the sky and guessed they only had another hour or so before dawn, which meant the birds might start waking at any time. He continued on, nervously trying to determine where he had crashed so he could work out where he had thrown the wreck. Finally he found a scrap of cardboard with characteristic teeth marks along the edge.

"Here it is," he said. "This is where I crashed it, so the wreck must be over this way..."

"Way out here?" said Moki. "At least you flew further than you fell. That's pretty good, right?"

"I guess that's one way to look at it," Torus grumbled. He continued checking in the shadows around the bases of the towering stacks of boxes, but without success.

"Where is it?" he asked the air around him. "Maybe they already got rid of it?"

He was on the verge of giving up when he actually stumbled over it in the dark and fell on top of it, with Moki on top of him. The sudden sound caused a few of the nearby birds to shift on their perches and ruffle their feathers, but as Torus and Moki held their breaths, the birds settled down again to silence.

"This is it," Torus whispered finally. "I need to get rid of this."

"Where will you take it?" asked Moki.

Torus sat back with a puzzled look on his face. "I don't know," he said. "I haven't thought beyond getting up here and finding it."

"Well, is there a dumpster chute up here?" said Moki helpfully.

"No, I don't think so," said Torus. "Besides, if anyone found it in a dumpster, that would be almost as bad as them finding it up here."

"What about out a window?" suggested Moki. "There's a broken one right over there we could throw it out."

"Don't be dumb, there's a pigeon sitting right in front of it," said Torus. "What are you going to do, ask him to move over?"

"Sure, why not?" said Moki, yawning hugely. "Can we go now?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, just a minute," said Torus. "Just let me think a minute..."

They sat in the dark and Torus listened to the silence and tried to think. Moki started to doze off, and then shook himself awake.

"I'm gonna look around," he said.

"Be careful," said Torus, "don't fall in the elevator shaft."

"Okay, I won't," said Moki. "What's an elevator shaft?"

"It's a big hole that goes all the way through the building," Torus said impatiently. "If you fall down that we'll never find you to get you out."

"Oh yeah?" said Moki. "Why don't you throw your wrecked thing down there then?"

"No, that wouldn't work," said Torus, "because..." He stopped to think, but the only reason he could think of for it not to work was because his little brother had thought of it first.

"Okay," he said finally, "you're right. Let's do that."

"Really?" said Moki, sounding surprised.

"Sure," said Torus, tiredly. "Just help me with it, okay?"

Moki started pulling on one end of the wreck, but Torus stopped him.

"No, we can't drag it, it's too noisy. We have to lift it and carry it."

They each picked up one end and made their way toward the far end of the room, with Torus leading the way. The wreck was difficult to carry and kept bending out of shape so they had to readjust their grips. For Torus, every awkward step was a reminder of his failure. He even imagined a dull ache beginning in the wrist he had injured, even though it hadn't bothered him for weeks. Finally, after much wrangling, and while becoming increasingly nervous about the coming dawn, they reached the elevator shaft.

The top of the elevator shaft was a huge, square opening in the floor, with the rusted frame of the actual elevator surrounding it. It was pitch dark inside, and seemed to go down forever, with the one remaining cable leading down into the darkness below.

Moki peered over the edge and whistled.

"Wow," he said. "That's far,"

"Yeah," said Torus grouchily. "Fascinating, I know, but we're running out of time.

"Okay, then, what do we do?" asked Moki.

"Just step back," said Torus. He gave the contraption one last look, and then braced his feet and pushed hard, sending it over the edge. He expected it to plummet away instantly, but instead it sailed out into the air, looping lazily in a big arc until it struck the far side of the shaft. From there it flipped over a few times, but stayed sailing for the most part, fluttering down the shaft in a big, slow spiral while the two rats watched from above.

"Not bad," said Moki, appreciatively. "It flies pretty good, for a wreck."

"Shut up," said Torus, darkly. The machine faded from view and he heard it come to rest far down at the bottom the shaft. "It's gone now, so just forget about it."

The sky was noticeably lighter when Torus turned away from the hole and led the way silently out of the attic. He said hardly anything on the way home, and when he and Moki slipped back into the den and climbed back into the bed, he only grumbled, and left it to Moki to make some excuse to their groggy father before they all fell back to sleep.

* * *

Chapter Twenty Six

A few weeks later, on a rest day in the late afternoon, Torus was wandering around the tunnels near his home, waiting for nightfall so he could slip surreptitiously into the humans' kitchens looking for something to eat. He had gotten into the habit of carrying around the knife he had found in the human artist's home, and he used it now from time to time to poke into crevices along the floor. He was in one of the main tunnels that led to the stockpile, and he held a small hope that he might come across a crumb or a morsel of something that had fallen from the sledges in the past.

He was used to being hungry. After all, hunger was part of a rat's life. But over the past month the character of his hunger had changed. He felt dull all over, in his mind and in his limbs. He could never rush what he was doing, but could only plod along mechanically, doing only what was absolutely necessary and no more. If there was some sudden danger, he managed to scamper to safety, but afterward he felt drained, and had to rest much longer than normal to recover.

If he had taken the time to notice, he would have seen that the rest of the clan was in the same state. Like Torus, they had slowed to a crawl, trudging with their heads down through the business of staying alive, eating whatever they found as soon as they found it, and sleeping as much as their hunger and the cold drafts would let them. Any wakeful time that wasn't otherwise filled was taken up with the random, meticulous search for food in any corner of the building that was convenient. It had become the chief activity for the clan, as it had for Torus, and he was busy at it when Nevi found him, quietly focused on prying a grain of dried rice from the crack where the floor met the wall in the tunnel.

"Hey, you," she said, coming up to him.

He looked up briefly and said, "Hi," before returning his attention to his task. Nevi was wearing her cloak, but even covered up, he could tell she was too thin, and that her dark fur was dull. The grain of rice was stubborn, and he paused for a moment to consider it.

"How's the scouting?" he asked.

Nevi shrugged.

"Not much going on anymore," she said. "Whenever I show up for an assignment they just tell me that there is nothing threatening the Clan at this time and that I should go home to my family."

Torus returned to digging at the grain of rice, but it refused to be worked loose. Finally he lost patience and stabbed his knife into the wooden floor, where it stuck with its long handle swaying back and forth.

"Hey," said Nevi. "Forget this. Let's go to the alley. I want to see the sky."

Torus shook his head and gave his knife another push to continue swaying.

"Too cold," he said.

"So grab your cloak," she said. "We're close to your place, just run over and get it."

Torus shrugged and pulled his knife out with a jerk.

"Okay," he said. "There's nothing to find here, anyway..."

At home everyone was sleeping, so he picked up his cloak and carried out into the tunnel quietly to put it on. It was a dark patterned cloth like Nevi's. Nevi and her mother had shown him how to work with the cloth by unraveling the edges and tying the loose threads together to connect the pieces. He had struggled a little with it, since the cloth was so much more floppy than the cardboard and wire he was used to working with, but once he figured it out he found it quite pleasant.

He stood in the tunnel and put on the cloak and hood. He still felt a little awkward in it, but it was definitely warmer.

"It's nice, right?" said Nevi. "Cozy?"

"Yeah," said Torus. "Cozy's a good word for it. It feels sort of like being in bed, even though you're walking around."

Once they got to the alley, Torus proceeded carefully, out of habit, even though it had been weeks since they had seen the dog, and even longer since Sandwich Man had been there. They crept into the lookout hole and looked out into the alley. It was a windy day, and although the space between the buildings was somewhat sheltered, strong breezes blew through the space and pieces of trash swirled around in the air.

"Come on," said Nevi. "Let's go out there."

"What for?" asked Torus. "We can see everything from here, can't we?"

"Come on," she repeated, and slipped out the hole and down to the ground. She started walking out into the middle of the alley and climbed on top of a collapsed pile of newspapers. She looked back at Torus and smiled. He scowled and gripped his knife and followed her, joining her on her perch.

"This makes me nervous," he said. "We're too exposed."

"It's great!" said Nevi, excitedly. There was a light in her eyes that Torus hadn't noticed before. She gestured out the mouth of the alley where they could just see the trees of the park whipping in the wind. "The world is so big!"

"Too big," said Torus. "It's the middle of the day. What if – " At that moment, a large human walked past the mouth of the alley, clutching its coat around it and leaning into the wind. Torus stopped mid-sentence and froze until it had passed.

"What if humans see us?" he demanded after it had gone.

"They can't see us," said Nevi, delightedly. "We're just a couple of rags on top of a pile of paper." She giggled and looked up at the bright strip of sky between the buildings. "We're invisible!"

"If you say so," said Torus. Another human passed them and he gripped his knife and hunched down as low as possible.

"Relax," said Nevi, calmly. "Look at the sky."

"What about it?" said Torus, looking up. "It's too big, too."

"It's beautiful," said Nevi, dreamily. "Always changing, always open..."

Torus squinted and tried to see what she saw, but all he saw was a whitish early spring sky with a few gray clouds being ripped to shreds by the wind. They sat in silence for a little while, as more humans passed without seeing them, and as the sky grew more darkly cloudy. The wind began to have a cold edge, and a few fat drops of rain started to fall.

Torus became more comfortable with the idea of humans nearby, and began watching them as they passed. They were in all shapes and sizes and covered with all different kinds of cloth and leather and plastic. For the first time he thought he could sense what some of them were feeling by looking at their faces and the way they moved their bodies as they walked. Mostly they were uncomfortable in the wind and cold, some seemed very sad, and others were angry. But none of them seemed happy.

The wind whipped up harder than ever, and a short, stocky human in dark clothing staggered against it and stepped into the mouth of the alley, carrying an umbrella against the spattering rain. The wind whipped up under the umbrella and blew it inside out so it looked like a black wreck at the end of a long stick in the human's hand. The human made some sounds that were clearly expressions of rage and despair and it threw the ruined umbrella into a metal trash can at the mouth of the alley before it hunched down and continued off into the cold.

Torus noticed the cold himself and pulled the cloak around him more snugly. He was suddenly aware of the comfortable warmth of Nevi sitting next to him, and that her elbow was touching his. He shifted awkwardly and was looking for something to say when she spoke quietly, still gazing up at the sky.

"Chello got promoted to squad leader," she said.

"I know," said Torus. He was relieved to be talking, but somehow irritated at the subject matter. "He's really good at Patrol."

"He's almost too good," she said. "I'm worried he might..."

"Might what?" said Torus. "Might take over?"

"Well, yeah," said Nevi. "I mean, look at Dumash."

"What?"

"Dumash was a friend of my parents, before my dad left," she said. "He was okay then, my mom says. Then he gets on Patrol and becomes Dumpish."

"So you're worried Chello will become, what, Chubbo?"

"No," she laughed and hit him in the arm. "I just don't want him to become one of _them_." She paused and looked out at the street thoughtfully. "I like him better as one of us."

Torus nodded, but didn't say anything. The rain was still threatening, and the clouds were growing still darker. There was a sudden flash and a crash of thunder. At the sound, a flock of pigeons clattered up out of tree in the park and spun up wheeling and flapping into the air over the alley.

Torus was irritated with them for flying so easily, even in the swirling wind. They wheeled up and up and up, above the tops of the buildings, flying in a big, irregular circle, clattering their wings and screaming in their strange language. Then, even higher up, Chello saw a tiny black shape in the sky, steady and motionless, hanging in the air seemingly without effort or movement.

He realized it was the hawk, soaring in the wind with its wings outstretched. It was gliding effortlessly in a slow circle high above them all, seemingly riding the wind as easily as rats ran across the ground.

Then, without any warning, it folded its wings and fell straight down toward the circling pigeons. They screamed and scattered, flying desperately toward the top windows of the building.

The speed of the hawk was remarkable. In no time he had sliced through the air and reached the birds. Torus could see he kept the tips of his wings out and was steering toward a pigeon that had gotten separated from the rest. The pigeon panicked and flew crazily toward the building as the hawk closed in. Whether from a chance gust of wind, or a lucky turn by the pigeon, the hawk missed his mark, and the pigeon fluttered into the broken attic window. Still without flapping, the hawk opened his wings and pulled out of his dive, shooting down along the alley, and then out, across the street and into the air over the trees of the park.

Forgetting about the humans on the sidewalk, Torus ran to the mouth of the alley to watch him. The hawk glided in a huge arc and passed over the dumpster, which Torus could just see in the distance. Pigeons squawked and fluttered around it, and scattered as the hawk passed, gliding silently and terrifyingly through the air above them. Then, without another flap, the hawk swooped back over the street and up to his roost at the top of the building.

Torus sat staring after him, with his eyes narrowed.

Nevi looked at him with a questioning look on her face.

"What is it," she asked. She was answered by another flash of lightening and a roar of thunder. The rain began in earnest, and she tugged at the edge of Torus's cloak.

"Hey," she said. "What's going on?"

He sat up suddenly, gripping his knife and heading back toward the hole in the alley wall.

"Come on," he said shortly. "I've got to go do something."

* * *

Chapter Twenty Seven

"Wait," said Nevi, as she rushed to catch up with Torus. "Where are we going?"

"Upstairs," said Torus shortly as he jumped up into the hole in the wall.

"To do what?"

Torus was about to answer when ran headlong into Chello who was coming into the hole from inside the building.

"There you are!" said Chello. "Hey, lookit my new cloak Nevi and her mom made me!" He was wearing a cloak like Torus's, but without a hood, and instead of being made from a darkly patterned cloth, his was bright red, with the edges trimmed in gold colored thread.

Torus glanced at him for a moment.

"You need a hat," he said as he passed.

"I have a hat!" said Chello, whipping it out of his pouch. It was red, to match the cloak, with a round crown and a wide brim pinned up on one side. He placed it dramatically on his head and struck a pose with his needle.

"Fear in the hearts of my enemies, right? Hey, wait!"

Torus had slipped around him and was headed back into the building. Nevi followed him, with Chello coming up behind.

"What's with him?" he asked her when he had caught up.

"I don't know," she said. "We were in the alley and he saw some pigeons flying around and all of a sudden he got angry and took off."

"It wasn't the pigeons," said Torus from up ahead without turning back.

"Well what was it then?" said Nevi, sounding irritated. Torus stopped suddenly and turned to face them.

"Didn't you see him?" he asked. "The hawk, the way he flew. Didn't you see it?"

Nevi shook her head and said, "I saw him chase some pigeons, I guess, and..." Chello just looked confused.

"Yeah, he chased some pigeons, alright," said Torus. "He came screaming down out of the sky and blew them away like leaves in the wind."

"Did he catch one?" asked Chello, hopefully.

"No, but he totally could have if he'd wanted to" said Torus. "It was amazing, and scary, and the pigeons completely freaked out."

"Yeah," said Nevi, "but what does that..."

"Did you see the way he flew?" asked Torus impatiently.

"He was...really fast?" said Nevi helpfully.

"No, not that," said Torus. "He didn't flap his wings!" He paused to let the importance of his words sink in, but his friends just stared at him. "He didn't flap his wings at all," he continued. "He was flying way up high, then he dived down through the pigeon flock, all the way out over the park and then up to the top of the building without flapping once. The pigeons were flapping all over the place, but he was just gliding and he was ten times as fast as them."

"Okay..." said Chello. Nevi stayed silent.

"Okay, so what was I trying to do with my machine?" asked Torus.

"You were trying to...fly?" said Chello.

"Yeah, but by flapping, remember? Remember what the hawk said about pigeons? He said 'they clatter in the air like broken things.' Well what did my machine do? It clattered in the air and broke, just like a pigeon!"

Lights started to come on in his friends' eyes.

"But the hawk..." said Nevi slowly.

"He glides!" Torus finished. "I know he flaps to take off and stuff, but half the time – more than half the time, maybe – he's just gliding. I've seen him, but I never really noticed it before." He paused, excited. "I have to figure it out," he said. "I have to talk to him again."

With that he turned and rushed away down the tunnel. Chello and Nevi glanced at each other and then followed him.

"Hang on!" called Chello. "What makes you think he'll talk to you? If you go up there by yourself, or even with the three of us, what makes you think he won't just eat you? I mean, he didn't get a pigeon dinner, so maybe he's hungry."

"Don't care," said Torus without looking back. "You don't have to come up with me, but I have to talk to him now while I still remember what I saw out there."

Without any further words, the three wound their way through the building, drawing an occasional puzzled glance from a passing rat, but without any interference. When they got to the vent pipe that led to the roof Torus stopped and spoke to his friends.

"Look," he said. "I don't know what will happen up there. If it's raining he might not even be there. And if he is, like Chello said, he might be hungry."

"Don't worry," said Chello. "I'm the Red Raider! No one dares eat me!"

"And if that doesn't work," said Nevi, "we've always got The Panic. It's saved us before, right?"

Torus shook his head.

"Not this time," he said. "I don't want to rely on mindless instinct anymore. I want to think and fight on my own without running blind in the dark."

"Absolutely!" said Chello, enthusiastically. Nevi nodded gravely.

"Okay, then," said Torus. He turned and climbed into the vent pipe and began creeping up it, struggling a little with his knife.

"You need a string on that," said Chello.

"Yeah, I'll work on that," muttered Torus.

They crept along in silence for a moment, and then Chello spoke in a tense whisper.

"We're climbing up through the attic, right? It gives me the heebie jeebies to think about all those pigeons in there! There might be some sitting right next to us, right?"

"I guess so," said Torus, distractedly. He was trying to work out a plan for getting onto the roof without being seen.

"Gross," said Chello. "Pigeons are gross."

"Be quiet!" hissed Nevi from behind. "What if they hear you?"

"Let them!" said Chello. "I'll skewer them and take them up to the hawk as an offering." He banged the weighted end of his needle against the pipe for emphasis.

"Stop that!" said Torus. "I don't care if the pigeons hear us, but the hawk is a different thing. If he knows we're coming he might jump on us from behind and that would be the end of that."

"Gross..." said Chello quietly.

Once they reached the frame of the roof, Torus went right up through the hole at the top without stopping to find the hawk as they had on their last visit.

"Torus wait!" called Nevi, but he disappeared with a flick of his tail. Chello looked at Nevi and shrugged, then they slipped up onto the roof themselves.

Torus sat up and gazed around. The storm had mostly passed – a brief spring thunderstorm – but it was still raining lightly, and the flat roof was wet, with puddles in places.

"Skeerin!" he called, but there was no sign of the bird. He started off purposefully, looking up at any likely place for the hawk. Finally, as he came around the far side of the chimney, he saw the bird, and at the same time heard its familiar voice.

"What is this now that comes in the rain?" it said. It was sitting with its back to the rats, in the partial shelter of the chimney, looking slightly damp and uncomfortable.

"I'm a rat," said Torus. "I'm Mr. Nile's friend."

"It is the rat that wishes to fly," said the hawk evenly. "Intolerable."

"That's why I've come," said Torus. "May I speak to you about it?"

There was a long pause and Torus started to notice he was getting steadily wetter in the rain. The hawk shook suddenly, shaking water from its wings and body in a wide spray. Then it turned slowly to face the rats.

"Three," it said, finally. "The Nile is away for three moons, and then sends three rats. Intolerable."

"Mr. Nile has been ill," said Nevi. "But he is doing much better now. He...sends his regards," she finished, uncertainly.

"Nile didn't send us," said Chello. "We came on our own." He gestured toward Torus with his needle. "We came with him."

Torus stood on the roof between his two friends and looked at the huge bird.

"I saw you flying just a few minutes ago," he said. "I saw you chasing the pigeons and flying out over the park." He paused, gazing steadily into the birds yellow eyes. "How do you do it?"

The bird cocked its head to one side and gazed quizzically at Torus.

"Strange," it said. "A most strange rat, this is."

"You flew without moving your wings," Torus persisted. "How do you do that?" He stepped forward toward the hawk. "How does it work?"

"This rat will not fly!" said the hawk sharply. With a sudden lurch it lunged forward, spreading its huge wings and leaping toward the rats. It sped toward them and was nearly on top of them with a single beat of its wings.

Torus caught his breath as the bird approached, and felt a tightness in his stomach and at the back of his neck. He gritted his teeth and prepared to fight the blackness he knew was coming, but instead of going dark, his mind felt suddenly clear, clearer than it had ever been before.

Everything seemed to slow down, and he saw everything around him with perfect clarity – the rough texture of the rooftop, the broken bricks of the chimney and the low wall surrounding the roof, the piles of damp leaves and twigs and bones in the corner, and the hawk, coming at him with its talons outstretched, framed against the blotchy clouds in the sky. The rain had nearly stopped, and the air felt crisp and clean. He took a deep breath that filled him with a tingling energy to the ends of his fingers and the tip of his tail. He planted his feet and gripped the long handle of his knife with both hands, looking the hawk dead in the eye.

At the same moment, he saw, in the corners of his eyes, Chello and Nevi step up on either side of him. Nevi was crouched as if she was ready to spring forward in attack, and Chello stood with his spear thrust forward and his bright cloak swinging in the wind. Even without seeing them clearly, Torus could feel that they felt the same clarity, and the same focused determination that he did. Together the three of them stood and faced the oncoming hawk.

The big bird pulled up abruptly when he saw that the rats were standing to face him. He beat his wing rapidly two or three times to slow his speed, and then came to a stop, landing lightly on the roof directly in front of them. He fixed them with his hard, yellow eyes and regarded them curiously.

"We need to understand," said Torus, evenly. He spoke quietly, but his voice sounded loud in his ears. "The pigeons are killing us. We have to fight them like you fight them."

"I do not fight," said the hawk, coolly. "I hunt, that is all."

"What were you doing earlier, then?" demanded Torus. "I saw you fly through the flock of pigeons, and you didn't even try to catch any of them. You just scared them out of your sky."

The bird stood up straight and looked at Torus in surprise.

"That's it, isn't it?" said Torus in a rush. "It's _your_ sky and you chased them out. Well, they're in our home, too, and we need to chase them out. I need to understand. I need to know." He put down his knife and stepped forward, looking intently at the hawk. "Please show me," he said.

Without warning, the hawk leapt up into the air, spreading his wings and stretching out his talons. He snatched Torus up in a firm grip and with two mighty beats of his powerful wings, he climbed into the air, out over the edge of the building and up into the misty sky. Very briefly, Torus heard the desperate cries of his friends, and then all sound was lost in the whistling of wind in his ears.

Up and up, in the hard clutches of the bird's talons, Torus rode up into the sky. For a moment, he thought he might throw up, and then, for another moment, he was sure he was about to be killed and eaten. He briefly wished for the blackness to come back, but, of course, it didn't. If anything, as he rose up into the air, his mind and his perceptions became increasingly sharp and clear. He was aware of the power of the hawk's wings, scooping through the air, pulling them up higher and higher. The wind rushing past him had a definite texture and smell he had never experienced before.

He was dimly aware of the pressure of the birds claws around his shoulders and hips, and a tiny part of his mind reflected that if the bird was going to kill him he would certainly have done so already. For the most part, though, his attention was taken up with the immediate moment of his awareness.

As the hawk climbed, Torus could see the shapes of the clouds, like huge crumpled wads of fog in the sky. As they broke apart after the rain, they were lit by the angled rays of the late sun. They were blazed and frosted with amazing colors, pinks and creams and oranges and deep purple reds underneath. He could see wisps of rain falling from some clouds far away, like sheets of mist blowing down in the wind. And further still, where the sky was almost dark, he saw flashes of lightening tearing among the charcoal clouds.

As he reached a height nearly level with the cloud tops, the hawk stopped flapping, and spread his wings wide, gliding silently through the air. Torus knew they must still be moving with great speed, but it felt perfectly still and calm, with the wind softened to a whisper of a breeze. They moved in long, slow arcs through beams of sunlight broken by clouds, and after a long moment of silence, the hawk spoke.

"This is the sky," he said. His voice was low and calm, with none of the strange, shrill tone that had confused the rats in the past.

"It's beautiful," said Torus, full of wonder. "You truly belong here."

"You are foolish," said the hawk, not unkindly. "I am not worthy of the sky. But it tolerates me."

Torus then looked down for the first time. When he did, a strange thing happened to his vision. Although they were very high in the sky, he found he could see quite clearly all the way to the ground. There, far below, was the black square of the roof of his building, the dark shadow of the alleyway on one side and a parking lot on the other. Then more buildings, and the long vacant lot behind them all that was off limits to all rats. There was the wide street, streaming with big human machines, and across from that, the park, a huge expanse of treetops and grassy areas. He could see the dumpster, still swarmed by pigeons in the fading light.

And all around that, the city continued, building after building, block after block, for miles and miles, a distance further than Torus had ever imagined. In one direction, the city disappeared under the rain clouds. In the other direction, toward the setting sun, it spread out almost to the horizon, where it stopped at a bright ribbon of water that glimmered yellow in the evening light. On the far side of the river was what looked like wild country that stretched out until it was lost in the haze of sunset.

Torus felt the hawk bank into the wind and change direction. He reached out with his arms and felt the air moving over them. He suddenly sensed the air as a real substance, something to be held and manipulated, like the cardboard and wire and tape he was used to. He squinted his eyes and looked out through the sky again. He knew then that the air was always moving, billowing up and flowing down, like water shaken in a bottle. He could sense huge pillows of wind and feel how the hawk angled his wings against them to control his flight.

As if sensing his thoughts, the hawk spoke.

"As you walk over the ground," he said. "Move through the air and with the air."

Torus nodded, silently.

"Let it do what it will, and it may let you do what you will," the hawk continued. "Do not fight the air. Pigeons fight the air," he said, disdainfully. "They fight and always they will lose. They are not worthy." He circled smoothly and began descending. "They are intolerable."

They coasted down in a wide spiral, and before long Torus could see the tiny specks that were his friends, waiting on the roof. There was a red speck that kept skittering around and gesticulating wildly at a dark speck that seemed frozen in panic. When they were close enough to see each other's faces, he saw Nevi point up at them and Chello shout something that was lost in the distance between them. He waved and smiled, and Nevi waved back while Chello stomped away and then stomped back immediately.

After one last wide circle, the hawk glided in over the roof top and plopped Torus down gently next to his friends before flying up and perching on the top of the chimney to face the last gleam of the setting sun.

"What in the name of cheesy cat scat was that?" demanded Chello.

Torus ignored him, instead calling up to the hawk, "Thank you, Skeerin. I will honor the sky if I can. I will try my best."

The hawk spoke without looking down at them.

"Tell the Nile it may visit me. Tell it...to come and mark the moon."

"I will tell him," said Torus. "Thank you."

He felt dazed and drained, as if all the thrill of his adventure had washed everything out of him, and he was empty inside and perfectly clear, like a clean glass bottle. He turned away and led the way back to the hole in the roof, followed by his confused friends. The hawk remained silent while they moved away, but when they had dropped down into the darkness of the roof frame, he let out a high, piercing skree that thrilled Torus right to the tip of his tail.

* * *

Chapter Twenty Eight

At the sound of the hawk's screeching cry, Chello and Nevi shot into the hole in the vent pipe and disappeared, heading down to familiar levels of the building. Torus darted after them, not out of fear, but filled with sudden exhilaration. He half ran and half fell down the pipe, and burst out the hole at the bottom to crash laughing into his friends.

"What is going on?" demanded Nevi, who looked close to tears. "What happened up there?"

"I can see the air!" said Torus. "But not really."

"Ooookaaaaay..." said Chello cautiously.

"I can feel it with my whiskers," Torus continued, "and in my tail." He stood up and closed his eyes, waving his hands gently. "Can you feel it?" he asked. "It's everywhere."

"Torus, what are you talking about?" said Nevi.

"I think if he feels wind in his tail we should just leave him alone," said Chello.

Torus opened his eyes and looked at them intently.

"I have to go see Nile," he said, and rushed off.

His startled friends scrambled to catch up, and by the time they came bursting into Mr. Nile's den they were all out of breath. Torus stood inside the door panting heavily and looking around the room. Mr. Nile was out of bed and bustling about like normal, and a crowd of young rats was gathered around a bag of pretzels in the middle of the floor. Arkon was there, of course, and Flinka and Juke. Moki was making a careful stack of the snacks and Pryus was sitting between Davin and Vinda, looking very pleased with himself.

"Well, hello," said Mr. Nile, looking up at them. "What brings you here so explosively?"

"I don't know," said Chello, panting and gesturing at Torus. "Ask Tailwind here."

Torus caught his breath and stared at the bag of pretzels.

"I'm starving!" he said, and edged his way into the circle.

"Help yourself," said Mr. Nile.

"Salty crunchy!" said Moki, happily tossing a pretzel over Torus's head to Chello.

Torus suddenly felt incredibly hungry, and for a few minutes, all he could focus on was the satisfying crunch and salty tang of one bite after another, until, three or four pretzels later, he looked up to see the rest of the rats staring at him with their eyes wide.

"What is it?" he asked around a mouthful of salty crumbs.

"I just told them what happened up there," said Nevi impatiently. "Weren't you listening?"

"I was crunching," he replied. "What did you say?"

"About the...you know...up on the...you know..." Nevi stopped, exasperated, and grabbed a pretzel for herself. "The flying thing!"

"Yeah!" said Torus, his eyes lighting up. "It was incredible!"

"How could you do that?" said Flinka. "Didn't you...Panic?"

"No," said Torus excitedly. "And neither did they!" He indicated Chello and Nevi. "I don't know why. Maybe we're getting used to it?" He looked to Mr. Nile with the question. "Or these cloaks and hats? Maybe?"

Mr. Nile looked thoughtful.

"Perhaps," he said. "Perhaps you feel secure and covered up enough that you can control the instincts."

"Anyway," Torus interrupted, "it was amazing! Up in the air so high, you can see everything! There's hundreds of buildings all around ours, and the park is huge!"

"It was horrible!" Nevi interjected. "We thought you were dead!"

"I knew it was okay," Chello objected. "I knew he had it under control."

"No you didn't," Nevi retorted. "You were running back and forth shaking that needle, ready to kill the hawk as soon as he landed!"

"Maybe," Chello mumbled, looking at the floor, "maybe a little bit at first..."

"I think you're all crazy," said Flinka. "I wouldn't ever go back up on that roof for anything. It's bad enough having to go up and clean the attic while those pigeons are sleeping. I couldn't stand the idea of that big bird coming at me again." She shuddered and took a small bite of her pretzel.

"Are they still sending you up there?" asked Chello. "That stinks. I hate it that they moved in up there." The other rats nodded in agreement. "We haven't gotten any more access to the park like they promised, and they're all getting fat while we starve to death." He took a big mouthful of pretzel, enjoying his audience, and continued. "And to top it off, they make the cleaning crew go up there and...clean it, I guess." He stopped and considered. "It must be full of pigeon scat, huh? Gross!" He looked over at Flinka. "How do you stand it?" he asked.

She returned his gaze and her eyes narrowed.

"What did you think we did?" she asked coolly. "What exactly do you think we clean up? As the cleaning crew?"

He stammered, and swallowed his mouthful, looking puzzled.

"Rats aren't exactly...fastidious, if you know what I mean," she continued. "How long do you think we would last in this building if everything we...left behind...was there for the humans to find?"

Chello blinked, slowly realizing what she was talking about.

"We can't all patrol and scout around and make sure everyone fills their forage quotas," she said, stepping toward him. "Someone has to clean up after everyone else and keep the clan safe." She stopped in front of him and stared him down nose to nose. "What did that hawk say? 'Rats and pigeons are the same to me?' Well, from my side they look pretty much the same, too. Pigeon piles or rat piles...what's the difference?"

"Hey," said Chello, a little desparately. "Hey, hey, hey...I didn't mean...I mean, I didn't know..."

Flinka turned and walked off to the side of the room.

"Don't worry about it," she said. "Go patrol something."

"Hey," said Chello again, now angry. "It's not my fault!" Nevi looked at him reproachfully and he turned to her. "It's not! Did I let the pigbirds move in? Did I tell them they could have the whole park to themselves?" He stood up, gripping his weapon.

"The leaders did it to us! The advisors, and that nutty old Chief, they let the pigeons come in and mess things up. That's what we have to take care of." He paused, and looked around at the others. "It can't be about who does what job, or who lives on what floor. It has to be about getting them out of here and getting them away from the dumpster again. Look at what they're doing to us! They're killing us!"

"That's what I'm talking about," Torus interjected. "I can see the air!"

"You've lost your mind," said Chello.

"No, no, listen, listen, listen," said Torus urgently. "A flying thing! I can build one now! I can work with the air, I know I can." He stood up and started pacing. "I had it all wrong before, with the flapping and the cardboard and stuff. It's just about sailing on top of the air, letting the air do the work. Here, look..."

He snatched a scrap of paper from Mr. Nile's stash and quickly folded a crease down the middle and then flattened it out into a shallow v-shape. He tossed it gently and it half glided and half fluttered across the room.

"Like that, kind of," he said. The others looked at him uncertainly.

"I know I can do it this time," he said intently. "I have to build it like the hawk instead of like a pigeon. And build it out of the right stuff. There's a human thing down in the alley. I saw one of them throw it away. A bumbler, or something like that." He looked at Nevi. "Remember? It caught the wind great! It almost blew the human over, and then it broke and the human threw it away."

Nevi's eyes lit up.

"Oh, the umbrella!" she said.

"Yeah, the bumbler," Torus rushed ahead. "I have to get it! I know it'll work!"

"Okay, then what," said Chello. "You make a flyer and what? We try the same thing again at the dumpster?"

"No, a bunch of them!" said Torus. "A whole flock of flying rats! And cloaks and hats for the rats on the ground so they can't see you and you don't panic!"

"A 'flock' of rats?" Flinka said incredulously. "You're insane!"

"No, Torus is right," said Juke. He didn't say anything else, but as the silence grew he stammered and started again.

"When I'm on Patrol, I go out the tunnel under the street and count the birds at the dumpster. There's more every time." He turned to Flinka. "How many are in the attic now?"

"More every week," she said, miserably.

"They'll drive us out," he continued. "Or the humans will find them. They're not careful like we are. The humans will gas the building to get rid of them."

"We can do it," said Torus. "Even if there are a hundred of them. They don't think like we do. When they're in a flock they all think the same. Have you ever watched them? They all do the same thing at the same time, like they all have the same ideas and the same feelings. That's how we can beat them."

He looked around at the others' quiet faces.

"Even if it's just a few of us...we'll sneak in under our cloaks and then at the right moment we jump up and rush them. Then when they fly up to try and Panic us, the rest of us will fly down on top of them from the tree and panic _them_! You should have seen the way they scattered when the hawk dived at them tonight. They couldn't get away fast enough!"

"Why?" asked Davin. "Why will that work?"

"Pigeons follow the group," offered Mr. Nile. "When a few of the flock react to something, the rest of the flock reacts to them."

"Exactly!" said Torus. "If we can scare away just a couple of them, the rest will follow without even knowing exactly why."

Pryus spoke up for the first time, looking intrigued.

"And with the cloaks and the flying things, they won't even realize it's rats at first. They'll think the garbage in the dumpster is attacking them!" He laughed aloud at the idea. "I'm in!" he said. "Where's my cloak?"

Not all the rest were so enthusiastic, and Flinka was clearly quite doubtful, but after some discussion the rest of the group agreed that the time was right for another attempt at raiding the dumpster.

"But everyone..." Chello paused and looked each rat squarely in the eye. " _Everyone_ needs to keep it quiet this time. If anyone gives us away this time they'll have to deal with me."

"And one more thing," he said, turning to Torus. "If you break your leg again you won't get off so easy this time. I'll drag you up the tree and throw you at the pigbirds myself!"

* * *

Chapter Twenty Nine

Late that night, Torus, Chello and Nevi snuck out of the hole in the alley wall and crouched carefully on the ground in the shadow of the building. Across the alley, the featureless wall of the next building was a blacker shape in the darkness, and above them the sky was hazy and starless, tinged a dirty orange by the lights of the city. At the mouth of the alley, light poured in from a nearby streetlamp, and the sidewalk and street shone darkly, still wet from the recent rain. At the very edge of the alley, where the corner of the building met the sidewalk, Torus could see the silhouette of the trash can with the curved handle of the umbrella still sticking out. The street was still and silent. They could see the end of a car parked at the curb, but no cars passed on the street, and no humans passed as they crept carefully through the shadows.

When they got to the can they stopped and gazed up the smooth metal sides.

"I'm starving," said Chello. "Do you think there's any food in there?"

"Sometimes," said Nevi. "It's not part of the regular forage route, but it usually gets checked out anyway."

"How do you get in?" asked Chello, reaching up and feeling the side of the can.

"It depends," said Nevi. "The humans keep moving it around." She looked at the brick wall of the building beside the can. "The wall's pretty rough, and it's close to the can. Maybe we can climb up that way..."

Chello grunted and went over to the wall, reaching up to find a purchase. With just a little difficulty he was able to grip the cracks between the bricks with his claws and scramble up the wall to near the top of the can. With a short jump he was able to reach the edge, and he clung there for a moment before disappearing. The others were about to follow him when the sound of human footsteps on the sidewalk made them freeze. They crouched behind the can, looking out into the street and saw a shortish, roundish human shuffle past, bundled up in a huge coat and hunched over against the chill. They held their breaths as it walked slowly by, giving the alley a nervous glance as it passed.

When it was gone, they scrambled up the wall after Chello and soon had plopped down into the can beside him.

"What was that?" he asked.

"A human," said Nevi.

"It looked familiar," said Torus. "Was it Mumsy?"

"I don't think so," said Nevi. "Mumsy has different feet, I think..."

"Whatever," said Chello dismissively. "There's no food in here, anyway. Just soda cans and newspapers and stuff." He poked distractedly at the trash with his knitting needle. "I guess if there was any food someone else got it first.

"We're not even here for food," said Torus, clambering over the top of the trash to the broken umbrella. "We're here for this."

He started examining the umbrella closely, fingering the loose folds of thin fabric and the stiff wire spines.

"Perfect," he muttered to himself. "This is perfect..."

"Okay, so what do we do now?" said Nevi.

"We get it out and take it home," said Torus without taking his attention off the umbrella.

"But it's huge!" said Chello. "What are you thinking?"

Torus turned to him with a puzzled expression.

"I don't know," he said. "Let's get it out of here and lay it out on the ground so I can take a look at it."

The other two joined him and together they tried to lift it out over the edge of the can, but it was too big and awkward, and every time they almost had it free, it twisted and fell back down. They were concentrating so hard on the task that at one point they didn't hear a human's footsteps until it was almost too late. They slipped down deep into the can and crouched under their cloaks as a tired-looking human in a blue uniform stopped at the mouth of the alley. It grumbled to itself and shined a light in its hand around the shadows. Finally, it grumbled again and stumped away and the rats began to breathe again.

"That was too close," said Chello. "Let's come back another time."

"No, we need to get it now," said Torus. "They might come and take it away, and I don't know when I'd find another one."

"Rrrrrat?"

"Oh, no," said Nevi. "What's he doing here?"

Chello stretched up and peeked over the edge of the can.

"Hey, it's Sandwich Dog! Hi, Stupid," he said cheerfully.

"Rrrrrr..." the dog growled ominously.

"Chello, don't," said Nevi, as she and Torus looked over the edge as well. "Go away, please," she said to the dog. "You'll get us in trouble!"

"No, wait," said Torus. "Maybe he can help us."

The dog looked up at them suspiciously. It was scrawnier and dirtier than the last time they had seen it, and it shivered slightly in its damp fur.

"Listen," said Torus. "Can you help us get something? You see this thing here?" He patted the curved handle of the umbrella sticking out of the mouth of the can.

"Stick," said the dog.

"Yeah, the stick," said Torus enthusiastically. "We need to get it out but it's too big. Can you get it?"

The dog sat down and gazed at them.

"Why get?" it asked finally.

"Because we need it," said Chello, impatiently. "Isn't that enough?"

"No," said the dog. "Blue man come. Not get."

"Oh, please?" begged Nevi. "It won't be hard, and maybe there's something in here you can eat after you get it out." She looked at him imploringly. "We could help you find something to eat, right Torus? Chello?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," said Chello. "There's probably tons of food just under the news here!"

The dog stood up and stepped toward the can. It leaned up and put its front paws on the rim of the can and sniffed discerningly.

"No food," it said, looking at Chello. "Rat lie."

"Hey!" said Chello, indignantly. "I don't lie! There might be food here down inside, maybe, where you can't smell it."

"Chello, if there was any food in here he could smell it," Nevi said quietly. "He smells better than you do."

"You can say that again," said Torus.

"Hey!" said Chello.

"No, I mean –" Nevi stammered.

"Rats quiet," said the dog suddenly. "Blue man come. Get stick, rats go, dog sleep."

"Okay," said Torus. "We'll go as soon as you can get this out for us."

The dog stretched its muzzle up and gripped the handle with its teeth. It started to pull on it, trying to work it loose, and the rats tried to help from below, but the lower part of the umbrella was wedged among the other trash in the can, and they couldn't get it unstuck. The dog became increasingly frustrated, shifting its feet to improve its grip and growling to itself.

Finally, it lurched backward, wrenching the umbrella free and capsizing the trash can. The dog fell over, dragging the umbrella with it, while the can rolled aside with a rattling crash, spilling the rats and half the collected trash onto the floor of the alley. The sounds of the crash had hardly died away when they heard the heavy, rapid footsteps of a human approaching at a sluggish run. The rats darted into the shadows and turned to see the human in the blue uniform come puffing up to the mouth of the alley. It turned on the light in its hand and shined the beam into the darkness. The dog had scampered back into a corner and the human quickly found him with its light. The human howled triumphantly and angrily and advanced toward the dog.

"No!" said the frightened dog. "No, Blue Man. Good dog!"

The human continued howling and stopped halfway down the alley, blocking the dog's escape. It took a small object from its pocket, pushed some buttons and began mumbling wordless sounds into it. The dog cowered, shivering, turning its head away from the piercing beam of the light in the human's hand.

"Oh, no!" said Nevi, desperately. "We have to help it!"

"What can we do?" said Torus. "I don't know anything about this. What's going on?"

"It's talking to another human with that thing in its hand," she said. "They're going to come take the dog away like they did to Sandwich Man."

"Well, I don't think we can do anything about that," said Torus. "I mean – hey! Where's Chello?"

He looked out and saw a small dark shape creeping toward the human, who was still howling into its hand. It was Chello, sneaking up behind the human. The dog saw him, too, and cocked his head.

"Rat?"

"Shhhhh..." said Chello, inaudibly. The human was still oblivious to his presence, and he crept up right behind the human's thick right calf. Rearing up on his hind legs, he thrust forward hard with his knitting needle, jabbing the point through the dark fabric of the human's covering and into the tender skin of its leg. The human yelped and jumped aside as Chello yanked his needle back and dashed toward the shadows. The human dropped its light and the talking box, both of which broke into pieces on the ground. In the confusion, the dog leapt to its feet and scrambled around the flailing limbs of the human, which was still howling and gibbering, trying to see what had happened.

"Good dog!" the dog barked happily, running out of the alley. "Good rat!"

The human turned and followed the dog out onto the sidewalk, howling and limping as it went.

Torus and Nevi watched the whole thing in astonishment, and then turned to find Chello lying on his side, gasping for air.

"Oh, no!" said Nevi. "Chello! Are you alright?"

They rushed over to him and then discovered he was laughing so hard he couldn't speak. She punched him in the shoulder in disgust.

"You drive me crazy!" she said.

Chello caught his breath and rolled onto his feet.

"This," he said, "is the absolute best night of my life!"

Once Chello had recovered sufficiently and Nevi had stopped glaring at him they went over to examine the umbrella. It was lying on the ground near the upset garbage can surrounded by a hodge-podge of scattered trash. It was still turned inside-out from when the first human had thrown it away, and the metal spines were bent and twisted.

"What do you think?" asked Nevi, dubiously.

"It's a mess!" said Chello. He turned away and started poking through the trash on the ground, looking for something interesting.

"It'll work," said Torus, looking at it critically. "As a bumbler it's useless, but the fabric's not torn, and I can straighten out these metal parts."

"Umbrella," said Nevi.

"Yeah..." he replied, carefully flexing a twisted metal rib back into shape.

She watched him for a moment, and then joined Chello looking through the trash.

"How do we get it home?" Torus called to them. "It's pretty big."

"I dunno," said Chello without looking up from the pile. "Drag it?"

"Maybe," said Torus. "It's pretty long..." He looked at it thoughtfully. "You know, I really only need the fabric and these metal things. I don't need this big stick. Maybe we can take it apart and leave the stick here."

"Sure," said Nevi from deep inside the toppled trash can.

"What is it, wood?" asked Chello. "Just chew through it."

"I think it's plastic," said Torus. "I'd rather cut it." He retrieved his knife from the hole in the wall and started chipping away at the top of the stick where it met the top of the umbrella. Soon, the sharp blade had cut through the stick and the top fell free.

"Got it!" said Torus. "Let's go!"

"Hey!" said Nevi. "There's some pizza crusts in here! Should we take them with us or eat them here?"

"Leave them for the dog," said Chello.

"Really?" said Nevi and Torus in unison.

"Well, yeah, we promised, right?" said Chello defensively.

"Yes, we did," said Nevi, "but I just thought you were...you know..."

"Yeah, I know," said Chello, good-naturedly. "But who knows, maybe we'll need that dog to be on our side again sometime." He walked over and picked up one end of the umbrella top while Torus picked up the other. "But just so you don't think too highly of me, let's go past the Stockpile on the way home and I'll use my special position on the Patrol to score us a midnight snack!"

"I will definitely try not to think too highly of you," said Nevi smiling. She picked up Chello's needle and Torus's knife and followed them toward the hole in the wall that led back into the building.

Two nights later, Torus was making adjustments to a new flyer while the rest of the group sat around eating pretzels and pretending to plan and practice for their next raid. He had stashed the umbrella and his tools in the small room behind the meeting place that had been Nevi's spying place when the pigeons had first come in all those moons ago. But that space was too small and dark to work, so they had moved into the big gathering place. As Chello had pointed out, there wasn't much risk since there hadn't been a gathering for weeks, and the leaders never came down from the fourth floor any more.

"They just stay up there 'planning' and waiting for the food to come up," he said. "And once in a while they send down a message that there are too many forage shirkers or that something else needs to be donated to the greater good, or to warn us about the thread of rival clans."

Torus had worked the ribs of the umbrella off the stump of the handle and carefully cut through the fabric so that he had a wide triangle with three metal ribs still attached at the point. He wired a light frame underneath that would hold the sides open like wings, and would also support straps that would allow him to carry the contraption on his back while running, and, hopefully, hang below it while flying. At the moment, the flyer was strapped onto Moki while Torus worked out the balance.

"This is boring!" complained the younger rat. "I want a pretzel."

"Where does Mr. Nile keep getting these?" asked Torus over his shoulder to Arkon, who was trying to make a weapon out of an old toothbrush.

"I don't know," he replied. "Every time he runs out another bag shows up. Full and unopened, too." He squinted to look at the point he was trying to shape on the end of the handle. "It's weird..."

Davin came over from where she and Vinda had been talking with Pryus, or rather, listening to Pryus talk, and said, "I heard he gets them from the human there. That it gives them to him."

"No way!" said Arkon. "Mr. Nile would never endanger the Clan by showing himself to a human at all, much less accept food from one!"

"That's just what I heard," said Davin. "Don't get your tail in a knot about it."

"He probably just knows where they're stored somewhere and sneaks them out," said Arkon sullenly.

"It doesn't matter," said Torus. "Okay, Moki, I think it's ready. Try it out for me, okay?"

"What do you mean 'try it out,'" whined Moki.

"Like I showed you, remember? Pull on that thing there to open the wings, and then hop up a little so I can see how they balance when they catch the air."

"What thing? What do I pull?"

"Oh, never mind!" Torus snapped. "I'll do it. Get out of it..."

"Yay!" said Moki, shrugging out of the straps eagerly and nearly knocking Davin over on his way to the pretzels.

Torus started working his way into the straps and suddenly noticed Chello apart from the rest of the group, over by the wall behind the podium. He had the tube of red paint he had taken from the artist's apartment and was working carefully making red marks on the wall. He held the tube in one hand and used his other to dab and smear the sticky color on the dull surface.

"What are you doing?" asked Torus.

Chello stepped back and examined his work. "Can't you tell?" he asked.

Torus squinted at the jumble of marks on the wall. "It's a rat, right?" he said finally.

"It's the Red Raider," said Chello, grinning.

"Where are its ears?" asked Nevi.

"I'm getting to that," said Chello. "What do you think?"

"I think it's awesome!" said Moki around a mouthful of pretzel.

"Are its teeth supposed to be that big?" said Arkon, skeptically.

"Big teeth are scary," said Chello. "Let me finish." He turned back to his work. The others wandered away back to whatever they were doing, but Nevi moved up beside him and gazed at the picture.

"How did you do this?" she asked.

"Practice," said Chello. "Like Nile said."

"Why?"

"I like red,"

Torus finished getting into the straps of his invention and worked the lever that controlled the wings. They spread wide and folded back together perfectly. He spread them out again and took a couple of tentative hops into the air. He could feel the wings catch in the air and glide forward as he came down, and he began to get excited.

"I need someplace higher to test it from," he said to no one in particular.

"How about up on those shelves," said Moki, looking skeptically at him. "They're not too high, and when you fall down you won't break anything."

Torus chose to ignore his brother's lack of faith, and only said, "No, they're too full of stuff. There's not enough room for me with this strapped on."

"The pigeons come in from the window," said Arkon, looking at his sharpened toothbrush somewhat doubtfully. "Why don't you try that?"

Torus nodded and began looking for a way to climb up. The wings were awkward on his back. He could move across the floor alright with them, but they upset his balance while climbing and he wound up having to take them off and pull them behind him from the point at the front.

Once at the top he slipped easily back into the straps and gave the wings one last practice stretch. He looked down on the room and at the small group of his friends gathered in the middle of the huge empty space. Chello had finished his picture and moved over to join the group, leaving a trail of red paw prints on the way. They looked up at him, silently, expectantly, and then Chello called up.

"Any last words?"

"It's just a test," said Torus. "Don't make a big deal out of it." He stretched out the wings, tried to remember how it had felt to be gliding through the sky with the hawk, and launched himself off the windowsill with a determined kick.

At first, nothing seemed to happen, and he felt a brief wave of anxiety as he imagined falling straight down to the concrete floor. But then the wings caught the air and he sailed forward smoothly. He felt the same strange change in his vision he had felt with the hawk. Everything seemed brighter and clearer, and time seemed to slow down. He shifted his weight in the harness and the flyer banked into a wide turn and he swooped gracefully across the room. He shifted his weight the other way and turned in the other direction. Then he narrowed the wings slightly and nosed down into the shallow dive before spreading the wings again and pulling up level with the floor again. Finally, he banked into a wide turn and spiraled gradually down to the floor. The others had remained silent and wide-eyed during his flight, but as he glided down and trotted to a stop beside them they erupted into a chorus of excited wonder and disbelief.

"That was incredible!" said Nevi.

"I want to do it!" said Moki.

"No, me next!" said Chello, hopping up and down like a pup. "Me, me, me!"

"Calm down!" said Torus, trying to collect himself. His heart was racing even more than it had after his flight with the hawk. He hadn't realized until that moment that he had only half expected the flyer to work at all, let alone as well as it had.

"Everyone can try it, if they want," he said, trying to be heard over the clamor. "And we can make more, too, like I said. A whole flock!"

The rest of the night was taken up with flight after flight. Torus let Moki take the next turn, much to Chello's dismay. Moki was clumsy at first, but quickly worked out how to manage the flyer, and was soon landing as gracefully as Torus.

The first time Moki swooped overhead, Torus felt just a slight twinge of Panic. The dark triangular shape moving in the air triggered a thrill deep inside him, and he shivered excitedly. He hoped the pigeons would be even more panicked by the sight of real flying rats coming down at them from the sky.

Nevi couldn't stop giggling after her first flight. Davin and Vinda both tried it, and flew well enough, but they agreed that it made them dizzy and they didn't like it. Arkon made one shaky flight and quickly turned back to work on his weapon. Flinka flatly refused to even try it.

"I'm a ground rat," she said firmly. "Someone has to stay down here and clean up, after all."

Juke and Pryus were both too large for the harness, and Torus thought they were probably too heavy as well. "Don't worry, though," he said. "We'll make you some when we find a bigger bumbler."

After a while, Torus and Chello were the only ones still interested, and they took turns trying to outdo each other while the rest sat around chatting. Chello became quite good at swooping and diving, but Torus excelled by far at staying aloft the longest.

Finally, exhausted and happy, they rejoined the rest in the middle of the floor, with the night nearly over.

"Okay," said Pryus, with Davin and Vinda snoozing on either side of him. "What now?"

"Well, we can make some more flyers," said Torus. "They'll be easy now that I know how. Let's see, I used three of the ribs for this one. How many are left?"

"Nine," said Juke, yawning.

"So you can make three more," said Chello. "That's math."

"Four then," said Torus. "We'll have four rats with flyers in the tree, and the rest on the ground with cloaks and weapons.'

"I'm flying!" said Chello definitely. "And you," he added, pointing at Torus. "Who else?"

"How will you fly with that crazy hat on?" Pryus asked.

Chello snorted.

"You sound like Dad."

"That hat drives him crazy," Pryus grinned. "He says you look ridiculous."

"Yeah, well, he can say that all he wants, 'cause I'm staying away from the hole as much as I can. Who else is flying?" he asked the crowd again.

"I will," said Nevi. "I don't want to fight on the ground if I don't have to."

"Okay, but you can't giggle too much, or they won't take us seriously when we strike fear into their hearts," said Chello.

"So there's one more," said Torus. "Who wants it?" He looked around at the group. "I guess it's between Moki and Arkon, right?"

"I can, I guess," said Moki. "But I was kind of looking forward to the fighting part.

"I'm not sure Dad will let you come, anyway," said Torus. "Until you come of age, you know."

"I should have come of age more than a moon ago!" said Moki. "Of course I'm coming!"

"Well, we don't have to decide right now, anyway," said Chello. "We need good rats on the ground, as well as in the tree. And Arkon's toothbrush of doom there will be a fearsome weapon either way."

Arkon looked doubtfully at his mutilated toothbrush and said, "I guess I'm more useful in the air. I'll need a lot of practice, though. It kind of makes me feel funny."

"Sure," said Torus. "We've got time. It'll take a couple of days to make the other flyers, anyway."

"So when do we do it?" said Chello.

"I don't know," said Torus, pondering. "I guess we just get ready and wait for the right time."

"Okay," said Chello, "but let's not wait too long. Springtime makes me hungry! And _you_ ," he said turning to Pryus, "better plan on joining us this time instead of chasing females all over the building."

Pryus grinned and put an arm around each of the sleeping twins.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said.

* * *

Chapter Thirty

For the next two days, Torus worked on the flyers whenever he could find the time. The small room behind the meeting room became the regular hangout for the group, and there was nearly always someone else there. They worked on making cloaks, or improving their weapons, or talking about the half-formed plan for the next raid. There was a kind of nervous excitement as the idea of the raid became more and more real.

"I don't know," said Nevi one afternoon, "it feels funny to be planning something like this. I don't think anyone knows what we're doing, but I can't help feeling like everyone's watching us."

"I know what you mean," Flinka replied. "Today I told my mom I was going to hang out with you guys, and she said, 'Be careful.' 'What's that supposed to mean?' I said, and she said, 'Just be careful.' And I can't tell if she means, like, 'Be careful you don't get your feet dirty,' or 'Be careful you don't make the pigeons mad when you attack them and make them drive us all out into the street.' Does that make sense?"

"Sssssort of..." said Nevi as she concentrated on the seam of a cloak she was stitching.

"I know exactly what you mean," said Arkon from under the cloak Nevi was working on. "I mean, my dad doesn't really seem to care what I'm doing, but he always looks at me funny when I come in late and stuff."

"Hold still," said Nevi. "I have to get this right. If it's too long you'll keep falling over when you land your flyer."

"I'll fall over anyway," said Arkon cheerfully. "I can't figure out how to fly and hang onto my toothbrush at the same time."

"You don't need to carry a weapon if you don't want," said Torus from where he sat working on the final flyer.

"Well, you and Chello are," said Arkon. "In those sling things on your backs. I tried it with mine, but I just get tangled up."

"The main thing is the flying," said Nevi. "The idea is to scare them by flying down on them. The weapons are just secondary." She bit off the thread she had been stitching with. "I'm not carrying anything either. Flinka's going to carry mine for me and I'll get it when I land. I'll bet she'd carry yours, too. Wouldn't you?" she said, turning to Flinka.

"Sure," Flinka shrugged. "I'll carry as many weapons as you want, as long as I don't have to use any of them."

"That's fine," said Torus, tightening a knot on the harness of the flyer. "You can just hide out under your cloak and be ready when they land."

"I like my cloak," Flinka replied, holding out to examine it. "It's weird how it really does make me feel safer up in the attic. Sometimes when we're up there cleaning a bird will start flying around, but it doesn't even bother me now."

"That's great!" said Nevi. "My mom and I are trying to get them made for the whole cleaning crew, but she says some of them don't want it."

"Yeah," said Flinka casually sweeping the skirt of her cloak back and forth. "Some of them say it's undignified to dress up like a rag. But I like it. And when the birds are flying around it's like they can't even see me sometimes."

"It's because you're the wrong shape," said Arkon, squirming restlessly while Nevi finished trimming his cloak. "Mr. Nile says their eyes are different than ours. If you're not a shape they recognize then they don't know what you are."

"Well, whatever it is I like it," said Flinka definitely.

"Like what?" said Juke, coming in from the meeting room.

"Nothing," said Flinka brightly waving him over.

Chello came in after Juke, carrying a flyer, followed by Pryus and the twins.

"I like this one best," said Chello holding up the flyer. "I've tried them all and this one is the fastest."

"This one's done now," said Torus, turning it upright. "You can try it if you want, but I'm not sure about the harness. I ran out of shoelaces."

Chello examined the new flyer and shook his head, frowning.

"No, this isn't strong enough for the turns I make." He held up the flyer he had brought in. "See, I bent the frame on this one by turning hard. Can you fix it?"

Torus scowled at him and took the flyer.

"If you don't stop breaking them before I'm even done making them we'll never get anywhere!"

"But they've got to be tested, right?" Chello said, grinning.

"Fine," Torus grumbled, wrenching the harness frame back into shape. "But if you break it again before the raid I'll just let you crash!"

"So how about the raid?" asked Pryus. "When do we go?"

"Let's go now!" said Chello. "We've got all the flyers now, right?"

Torus shook his head and Arkon did the same.

"No, we need to get ready and wait for the right time," he said. "Like we said before. We'll take the flyers up in the middle of the night and stash them in the tree, and stash our weapons in the tunnel to the dumpster. Then, when we decide the time is right we can run right out there without having to prepare anything." He stopped and looked at Chello. "Doesn't that make more sense than just rushing off half ready?"

"Yeah," Chello admitted, looking at the ground, "except for the part about it's not right now!"

"We can start moving stuff now, though, right?" said Pryus. "If we've got everything we need, and everyone is here, why don't we start stashing it now?"

"It's too early to take stuff up into the tree," said Torus. "It's still light out."

"What about just into the tunnel?" said Chello, regaining his enthusiasm. "We'll put everything in the tunnel, all the flyers and the weapons and whatever, and then we'll come back later to put stuff in the tree."

Torus considered a moment. "Yes, I guess that's okay," he said. "Besides, it'll be easier to sneak stuff through the building now before the forage starts."

"Good plan!" said Pryus. "I didn't really want to forage tonight anyway."

They began moving their equipment out of the meeting room and the small room behind it that had served as their workshop. It was a short distance along the main tunnel to the park tunnel, but to avoid seeing anyone they took a circuitous route through little used side passages. The tunnels were narrow and twisting, and they struggled to get the flyers through, even though they were collapsed.

"This is stupid!" Chello exclaimed after getting his flyer jammed in a tight corner for the sixth time. "Why are we going this way? There's no one around! If we'd taken the main tunnel we'd be there by now."

"Too risky," grunted Torus, struggling with his own flyer. "It's got to be a secret, at least the first time."

Chello grumbled and sat down to rest.

"Why are these tunnels even here?" he asked. "No one lives here, do they?"

"Rats used to live here," Arkon said, coming up behind Chello in the tunnel. "Before our clan came, I think. Mr. Nile said something about it once."

"That's creepy," said Chello, getting up to continue moving his flyer.

"The building's been here a really long time," said Arkon. "Hundreds of moons, maybe a thousand."

"That's not even possible," said Chello, yanking the flyer through a tight spot.

"Hey, be careful!" Torus called from ahead. "Don't you break that again!"

They came to a wide spot where three or four of the old tunnels came together and the group gathered in the open space.

"Which way from here?" asked Pryus. He looked at Chello and Torus. Torus shrugged and Chello pointed at Nevi, who rolled her eyes. She was about to speak when she suddenly snapped her mouth shut and turned her head aside, holding one finger up in caution.

"What is it?" asked Chello.

"Shh!" hissed Nevi, waving her hand at him. She was silent for a moment, straining hear ears toward down the empty tunnels.

"Do you hear that?"

Torus held his breath and stretched out his ears. At first there was nothing, but soon he could make out the sound of voices calling from far away down the tunnels.

"So what?" said Chello. "It's probably rats just getting ready for the forage."

"No, it's too early for that," said Torus.

"And they're upset," said Nevi. "Something's going on. We need to get this stuff stashed right away and get back to the clan before we're missed."

"What could be going on?" said Pryus, but no one answered. The rats collected their equipment and started off again, this time more briskly, and without talking.

Chello and Torus wound up at the back of the line, this time, and Pryus joined them, carrying a couple of weapons wrapped in a green cloak.

"What could be going on?" he repeated. "It's nothing, right?"

"I don't know," said Chello, "but I trust Scout Girl's instincts." He stopped briefly to untangle his flyer yet again. "Most of the time..."

They reached the park tunnel without any trouble, although they occasionally heard more agitated voices in the distance. Torus began to feel anxious about being away from home, and wished they were finished so he could rush back and find out what was going on.

"This is more like it!" said Chello as they headed down the tunnel at a brisk pace. "You guys on the tunnel team did a great job on this!"

"Thanks," said Arkon and Torus together.

"Look!" said Chello, slinging his knitting needle onto his back alongside the flyer. "When the tunnel is wide and straight like this, I can practically run!" He demonstrated by bolting ahead and nearly knocking Vinda over.

"Watch out!" she said when she recovered her balance. "You're crazy!"

"Sorry!" he called from far ahead. "Hey, what's this?"

"What's what?" Nevi called back.

"What?" he shouted.

"What's what!" she repeated, loudly.

"What's this?"

Nevi snorted and refused to answer, instead continuing with the others up to where Chello stood grinning next to a twisted pile of wire and cardboard. It was the wreck of the sledge they had used on their last attempted raid, still wedged in place between the walls of the tunnel where Torus had left it.

"It's a wrecked sledge," said Torus.

"I know," said Chello, still grinning at Nevi. "I ran into it, almost."

"Well, it's no good to us now," said Torus, grouchily. "It's all bent out of shape."

"No good for pulling stuff, maybe," said Chello, "but what if we hid our weapons and stuff under it? We could push it to the side in that wide spot up there and with our stuff behind it it would just look like a pile of junk."

Torus considered for a moment.

"I guess that'll work," he said finally. "We're about mid-way to the park here, I think."

He grabbed one end of the sledge and Chello took hold of the other and together they wrestled it out of the narrow spot of the tunnel into which it was jammed. They righted it as best they could and started pushing it down the tunnel toward the spot Chello had seen. Suddenly Chello stopped and let go of the sledge.

"Ew!" he exclaimed, looking at the ground in alarm. "What's all this on the floor? Eeeeeeww!"

"Pigeon piles," said Flinka calmly, coming up behind them. "Welcome to my world."

"This is so gross!" said Chello, shifting from foot to foot anxiously. "Why is it here?"

"They chased us down the tunnel last time, remember?" said Torus. "That's why I jammed the sledge in here."

"Disgusting!" said Chello, becoming angry. "It's getting on my cloak and all over my feet!" He resumed pushing the sledge, picking his way over the floor carefully. "Cheese, it's everywhere!"

"Yeah," said Arkon, more interested than disturbed. "There's way more that there would be just from that night. They must have been coming back down here for some reason."

"Why would they do that?" asked Nevi. "Don't they hate being underground?"

"I'll tell you why," said Chello, scraping his foot angrily on the ground. "They were trying to get into the building that way, just like they moved into the attic."

"What for?" asked Akron. "It doesn't make sense they would want to crawl through this tunnel when they can just fly into the windows of the attic."

"It makes perfect sense if they're trying to attack us, though, doesn't it!" Chello pushed the sledge into the side of the tunnel and shrugged off his flyer. "Come on, let's get this stuff stashed here and get back to the Clan so we can figure out what's going on."

"But..." Juke mumbled, searching for words.

"If they're trying to get in here," Flinka interjected, "shouldn't we leave the sledge where it was?"

"Yeah," said Juke, nodding.

"No," said Chello decisively. "We need the tunnel to be open so we can rush through it when we need to."

Flinka looked anxious. "But what if – "

"Shh!" Nevi cut her off and waved the group to silence. "Someone's calling," she whispered.

From far off down the tunnel behind them Torus heard a voice calling his name.

"It's Moki," he said. "It's alright." He went to the back of the group and called into the distance. "Down here!"

Moments later, Moki came scrambling up, disheveled and out of breath.

"You have to come back," he gasped. "Dad said you have to come to the gathering."

"What gathering?" asked Torus. "We don't have gatherings anymore."

"Well, there's one now," said Moki, beginning to catch his breath. "A big one. Everyone's supposed to come. Dad says you have to come because if there's any trouble he doesn't want it to be you causing it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" said Torus.

"You know Dad," said Moki. "It could mean anything..."

"What's the gathering for?" asked Nevi. "Did they tell you?"

"I don't know," said Moki, "but they're acting like it's really important. The Patrol is going around everywhere to make sure everyone goes."

"The Patrol?" said Chello, turning to Juke. "Did you hear anything about that?" Juke shook his head.

"It just came up," said Moki. "Something about that bird King coming and an announcement or something like that."

"Oh great!" said Chello. "Probably announcing that Nogolo negotiated us the opportunity to deliver food up to the attic and feed the pigbirds by hand!"

"It can't be _that_ bad," said Torus.

"Can't it?" Chello whirled at him wildly. "Can't it? Look at what they've done already! They won't be satisfied until we're _gone_." He stood and gripped his weapon. "They're trying to kill us!"

Chello's outburst stunned the group into silence. Then Torus spoke falteringly.

"Well, let's go back to the gathering and find out what's going on. If it's as bad as you say, then we'll find the right time and do our – "

"No!" Chello interrupted. "We're not going back. _This_ is the right time!" He looked around at the group. "Don't you see? The pigbird king will be at the gathering, along with his advisors, trying to talk like a normal creature, so there won't be that many pigeons at the dumpster. It must be almost dark by now," he continued, growing excited. "Most of the birds'll be going up into the attic, so this is the perfect time!"

"I don't know," said Torus, uncertainly.

"We're really not ready," said Nevi.

"I'm ready!" said Chello. "And we're all here, with all our weapons! And if we go right now, no one has a chance to 'accidentally' tell the birds we're coming."

"Chello, no one told them before," Nevi said.

"Whatever," said Chello. The point is we're all here. He turned to Moki, excitedly.

"Even little Minimouse is here! Are you ready to fight some pigbirds, Minimouse?"

"You bet!" said Moki. "When do we start?"

"No," said Torus, "you can't go! If you get hurt Dad'll kill me for getting you into this."

"You can't stop me," said Moki, "I'm as big as you now and I'm a better fighter!"

"I don't think we should," said Flinka, anxiously.

"It'll be fine," said Chello. "Do you want to clean up pigeon piles for the rest of your life? Just do like we planned. Hide out in the shadows and hold the extra weapons until someone needs them." He paused and looked around at the rest of the group. "We have to do this now," he said. "If we don't, then we might as well go give them all our food and move out of the building into the vacant lot."

"I'm not going there," said Arkon. "It's full of cats!"

"Exactly!" said Chello. "We belong in this building and we have to take it back. Why not us? Why not now?"

"Okay," said Torus, suddenly. "Let's do it. If we mess up and get in trouble, at least we'll all be exiled together, right?"

Flinka let out a low moan.

"I don't want to be exiled," she said.

"Don't worry about that," said Chello. "Nobody's getting exiled tonight. Juke, do you have your stick?"

"I have my stick," said Juke solidly.

"There, see?" said Chello to Flinka. "Juke's got his stick! You'll be fine!"

He pulled on his flyer, gripped his weapon and started down the tunnel toward the park.

"Get your gear," he said as he headed off. "I'll meet you at the end by the passage to the top."

He disappeared into the darkness, leaving the others to sort out cloaks and weapons before they followed him, with Torus and Nevi bring up the rear.

"He's either crazy or he's a genius," said Nevi.

Torus shifted the weight of his flyer and replied as they headed off. "I'm not sure there's a difference."

* * *

Chapter Thirty One

When they got to the end of the tunnel, Torus saw Chello waiting, clutching his weapon and staring up the passage to the surface. When he saw that the rest were there, Chello said, "Okay, let's go!" and moved to head up the passage.

"Wait, wait, wait," said Torus. "We have to plan it out!"

Quickly, he whispered instructions to each member of the group. They would all sneak out and gather in the shadow behind the wall. Then he, Chello, Nevi, and Arkon would start climbing up the tree, keeping to the far side of the trunk until they were hidden in the branches. The others would split up and slip out to the area around the dumpster with their weapons. When the flyers were in place, they would signal the others who would all jump up at once and try to scare the pigeons on the dumpster. At the same time, the flyers would launch from the tree and try to confuse the guard pigeons when they flew down to the surface.

Torus turned to Flinka. "You just hang onto our weapons and stay where you feel safe, okay? Then, when we land, you run over and give them to us."

"I'm keeping Sticker, though," said Chello.

"Fine, whatever," said Torus. "For me and Arkon, though, hang on to these," he said to Flinka, handing her his knife and Arkon's toothbrush.

"Okay," said Flinka, obviously trying to be brave. "What about Nevi?"

"I don't have a weapon," said Nevi.

"Yeah," said Chello. "She's good enough at wrestling she doesn't need one. Can we go already?"

"Okay," said Torus. "I think we're ready."

"Finally!" said Chello, leading the way up the short tunnel to the surface.

Once they were out of the ground and in the shadow of the wall, they split into two groups. Juke, Pryus, Davin and Vinda, and Moki crept around the wall toward the dumpster, and Torus led the way up the tree, followed by Chello, Nevi and Arkon. It was tricky climbing with the flyer strapped to his back, and he picked his way carefully up the trunk and through the branches to avoid being seen. There were no leaves on the tree, although the buds were beginning to swell. It was just sunset, and the sky was brighter than he had wanted it to be during the raid. He hoped that their cloaks hid their shapes from the pigeons fluttering around the dumpster and standing guard at the top of the wall.

"Hey," Chello whispered from behind him. "How many are there, do you think?"

"I don't know," said Torus, looking down. "A lot?"

"Juke would know," said Nevi.

"Well, I'll be sure to ask him when we're back down there," said Chello.

"Shh," said Torus. "Be quiet."

They began creeping out onto the large limb that stretched high over the top of the dumpster. Looking down again, Torus saw the others on the ground carefully climbing up the side of it. As he watched, Juke, who was in the lead, reached the top and slipped over the edge down onto the big pile of trash. The dumpster was very full, and in the middle the garbage was heaped up high above the rim.

"Look at all that garbage!" whispered Arkon. "There's enough there to feed the clan for a month, I'll bet!"

They continued creeping along until they were directly over the center of the pile. At the same time, the rats on the ground all followed Juke into the dumpster, and then spread out around the pile. Torus could see them slinking carefully under their cloaks. The looked almost like pieces of the trash itself, moving in a breeze.

Still, he was amazed that the pigeons seemed oblivious to them. He could hear them chattering and screeching at each other in their strange language, but he couldn't catch any words but "Culuu" over and over again. They fluttered up and down, landing on the pile seemingly at random, and pecking at various bits of garbage. When one of them found something to eat, the others nearby would converge on it and they would struggle over it until one of them finally pulled it away from the others and ate it. Occasionally, one of them would fly away with whatever it had captured and clatter off across the street toward the building.

The four rats in the tree lined up side by side on the branch and looked down at the dumpster. Torus tried again to count the birds.

"How many are there?" he asked. "They're moving around so much I can't keep track."

"I don't know," said Chello, "maybe a dozen on the pile? Where's Juke when you need him?"

"And five or six standing guard on the wall," said Arkon.

Nevi pointed off to the side and said, "I see a couple down there on the grass."

"Alas!" said Chello.

"What?" said Arkon.

"That's something like three to one against the rats," said Torus. "I hope it's enough."

"It'll be fine," said Nevi. "Remember, all we have to do is frighten enough of them into leaving that we make the whole flock leave."

"Yeah, like Nile said," said Chello. "They all think in a group, so if one pigbird is stupid, then all together they're even stupider."

"I hope so," said Arkon nervously.

"It'll be fine," said Nevi.

"Yeah, you'll be okay," said Chello. "If nothing else, just fall as slowly as you can."

Torus continued watching the rats below. They moved so slowly and carefully that he occasionally lost track of one of them. Vinda, particularly, in her mottled gray and black cloak, was hard to keep track of. Finally, they had spread themselves all around the pile of trash and were waiting silently, each gazing up at the tree with one eye.

"Now?" whispered Chello, hopefully.

"Not quite," said Torus. "There's too many in the air. We need more on the ground."

They waited a moment longer and several of the birds settled down into the dumpster.

"Now?" Chello repeated, impatiently.

Torus considered briefly, and then, without giving himself a chance to change his mind, he said "Yes!"

"Finally!" said Chello, waving his red hat widely to signal the rats below.

With a shout, they leapt up and brandished their weapons, each rushing at the nearest pigeon. As Torus had hoped, the pigeons reacted immediately, recoiling in shock from the sudden movement. Within a second, every pigeon in the dumpster had flapped up into the air, leaving the rats gathered on the top of the pile. In that same second, however, the birds guarding from the wall took off and flapped toward them, even as all the others were flapping away. The other birds saw this and began circling around to come back to the dumpster. The second after that, the four rats in the tree launched out and spread the wings on their flyers, shooting straight toward the center of the flock, with Chello in the lead.

With the flock circling, the guards swooped down toward the rats in the dumpster, flapping wildly at them and screaming. The rats held their ground, however, bracing their legs and thrusting at the birds with their weapons. Juke was particularly effective, swinging his stick wide and causing pigeons to collide in the air as they swerved to avoid him.

At that moment, the four flyers swooped into the flock, causing the birds to split apart like leaves in the wind. They wheeled wildly, trying to see and understand what had flown into their midst. The guards, meanwhile, pulled up from their attack and turned around to come face to face with the flyers. Chello swerved sharply and dived with a shriek directly at the biggest of them, slashing with his spear. The bird screamed at him, but staggered in the air trying to avoid him and wound up flying into the wall and fluttering down to the ground.

Torus guided his flyer in a wide circle around the dumpster, keeping the birds away from the rats below. He saw Flinka emerge from a dark corner and join the others. She smiled up at him and waved the knife, which glinted in the late evening light. He glided down to the group, followed by Arkon and the Nevi. He and Arkon retrieved their weapons and turned to face the birds.

The birds continued circling chaotically, and Chello was still aloft as well, still hollering and slashing out at any pigeon within reach. Finally, he dived down at a slow, confused looking bird and whacked it across the back with his spear. The bird let out a shriek and flew straight up in the air. Another followed almost instantaneously, followed by another and another, until the whole flock had shot up in the air. By the time Chello had landed and joined the others, the flock had risen above the top of the tree and disappeared over the street, headed back to the attic of the building.

It was all over so quickly that Torus hardly had time to think about what had happened. The rats gathered on the top of the heap in the middle of the dumpster and stared at one another for a moment.

"Just like that?" said Nevi, incredulously.

"I guess so!" said Chello, stabbing his weapon into the ground.

They broke into happy, relieved, astonished smiles, but had barely started congratulating each other when a pigeon flew up from below and circled them quickly. It was the big guard that Chello had knocked out of the sky on his first dive. It flew around them, eyeing them with its yellow eyes wide. Then it cried "The King! The King! The King!" and flew off toward the building. It was followed by three other pigeons they hadn't noticed before that had lighted in the tree rather than flying away.

"What're they doing?" said Arkon.

"Let's go!" said Chello sharply, dashing down the pile and leaping up to the edge of the dumpster.

"What?" said Arkon, "Where are we going?"

"They're going to get the King," said Chello, turning to face them. "Where's the King? At the gathering! I'm going to the gathering to finish this!"

He turned and was about to rush off when Torus stopped him with a shout. He turned back and looked at him impatiently.

"What now?" he demanded.

"Wait for the rest of us," said Torus, firmly. "Whatever we're doing, we need to all go in there together. If you rush in there all by yourself it'll never work."

"Well alright then, let's go!" said Chello, starting down the side of the dumpster.

Torus looked quickly around the group.

"All together, okay?" he said. "Just like we did here. Stick together, stay firm, and we can do anything!" The others nodded, some eagerly, some reluctantly, but when Torus turned and rushed after Chello they all followed close behind.

Chello led the way along the deserted main tunnel that ran directly to the back of the building and the gathering room.

"What do we do when we get there?" panted Nevi as they raced along the tunnel.

Torus replied by shrugging as well as he could while carrying his weapon and with the flyer still strapped to his back. When they got there and entered the room, they found things in such an uproar that the crowd hardly noticed them bursting in.

The floor was packed with rats, and several pigeons were circling in the air above them, dipping down occasionally to keep the rats cowering. Nogolo and Dinnick were on the podium with the King and his two advisors, and the Chief, who appeared to be sleeping. The pigeons on the podium were clearly agitated and kept fluttering their wings as Nogolo spoke rapidly, waving his arms and gesturing at the red rat figure painted crudely on the wall behind them. The air was filled with shouts and cries and the strange calls the pigeons made as they circled. They rushed into the room and started working their way through the crowd toward the podium, when suddenly someone grabbed Torus's arm and spun him around. It was his father.

"Torus!" he shouted. "Is this what you've been doing? It's you and your friends causing all this?"

Torus tried to pull his arm away, but his father's grip only tightened.

"Don't you see what you're doing to the clan? To the family? How could you drag Moki into this?" His voice shook with rage and anxiety. "Are you trying to get yourselves killed?"

Torus looked past his father and saw Chello and the others nearing the podium.

"I can't talk right now, Dad," he said, tearing his arm away. He dashed after his friends and called over his shoulder, "I'll explain later, okay?"

By the time he caught up with the group, the clamor in the room had subsided to a tense silence, and the only sound was Nogolo and the pigeon King arguing. Finally, Dinnick noticed the group approaching the podium and waved Nogolo to silence and pointed to them. Nogolo turned toward them and his eyes were filled with rage and fear.

"Who did this?" he demanded, pointing at the red rat on the wall. "Who dares this?"

"We did!" Chello shouted, defiantly. He leapt up onto the podium, his red cloak swirling. Torus jumped up beside him and the leaders and pigeons stepped back to avoid their weapons. Chello gripped his spear with his hand still stained with red paint and pointed it at the birds.

"We're the Red Raiders!" he said, "and the dumpster is ours!"

The rest of the group surrounded the podium behind them and remained watchful.

There was a stunned silence from the crowd, and Nogolo sputtered, "What do you mean?"

"We took it back," said Torus, stepping forward to face Nogolo. "We have a right to it, don't we? So we took it back." He turned out to the audience. "You can go there now and forage all night if you want. The pigeons are gone!"

"Impossible!" said Nogolo. "Banished! You are all banished!"

"Treachery!" cried the King. "Rat!"

He turned toward Chello and Torus, cocking his head sideways and fluttering his mottled wings menacingly. As if they had been signaled, the pigeons circling the room dove down at them, flapping wildly. The rats in the audience nearby skittered away frantically, and even Nogolo and Dinnick cringed and hopped down off the podium.

Torus and Chello and the rest of the Raiders stayed firm, however, and raised their weapons against them, turning the podium into a bristling wall of spikes and knives. The diving birds pulled up sharply and fluttered around confused, looking to their King for guidance.

At that moment, two pigeons lighted at the broken window and cried out loudly in babbling pigeon words. Torus couldn't tell what they said, but it electrified the pigeons in the room. The pigeons flying in the room flew out immediately. The King's two advisors took off and followed them out, screeching as they flew. The King shook his wings a final time and turned to the rats.

"Treachery!" he screamed again, leaping suddenly at Chello. He slashed at him savagely with his claws and then flew out the window.

"What have you done!" said Nogolo furiously as he climbed back onto the podium. Chello dabbed at the gash on his face, looked at the spot of blood on his fingers and then looked at Nogolo coldly.

"We're taking it back," he said, so quietly only those on the podium could hear him clearly. "We took back the dumpster and we're taking back the attic. And after that," he said, quieter still, "we're taking back the Clan."

"Banished," Nogolo whispered. He sounded almost desperate.

"Only the Chief can banish someone," said Nevi. "You'll have to wake him up, first."

Before Nogolo could respond Chello turned to the crowd and shouted, "For the rats of the Acme Apartment Hotel, we are taking back the attic!" He held his spear above his head and a cheer rose from the crowd. He turned to Torus and said, quietly, "Can we do that?"

"There's only one way to find out," said Torus. He stepped up and waved the crowd down.

"Come help us!" he called out to them. "Grab anything you can find for a weapon. If they come flapping at you, duck your head and close your eyes until they pass. All we have to do is frighten enough of them that their flocking instinct will kick in and they will leave!"

"We have to go now," said Chello, "while they're still confused."

Torus looked out at the crowd and saw a mixture of responses. Some rats nodded eagerly while others exchanged uncertain glances. Suddenly, he found his family near the back. His sisters' eyes were shining and his father was staring at him with a grim, unreadable expression. Torus smiled weakly and shrugged.

"How do we get there?" said a voice from the side of the room.

"We'll take you there," said Chello. "Anyone who wants to help, follow us. The rest of you go out to the dumpster and protect it!"

With that he jumped off the podium, ignoring Nogolo's objections. Torus followed right behind him, and the rest of the Raiders fell in behind them.

"Grab your flyer," said Chello. "Just in case."

Torus and Chello slung their flyers on their back and Torus turned to Nevi.

"Can you take the lead to get us up there?" he said. "You know the way better than anyone."

"Sure," she said, "but I'm done flying for today, okay?"

They rushed off out of the room, toward the series of tunnels that lead up through the building to the attic, followed by the rest of the raiders and a small crowd of other rats, some angry, some excited, some with nails or sticks they had found, others with nothing but their teeth and toenails.

Torus looked back briefly and tried to figure out how many there were, then decided however many it was it would have to be enough.

* * *

Chapter Thirty Two

As they neared the attic, Torus called to the rats behind him.

"We can't all rush in together, the tunnel's too narrow. Chello and I will go in first and you follow as quick as you can, one after another. We need to make them think we're a flood of rats. Once we're in, spread out as much as you can and jump at any bird you see. If we keep moving around, they'll think there are more of us than there really are. Understand?"

The rats nodded.

"Great," he said. "Pass it back so everyone gets it."

Then he rushed to catch up with Chello and Nevi who were nearly at the entrance to the tunnel that led up to the attic. When they got there, Nevi paused to say something, but Chello rushed past her into the darkness. Torus exchanged a puzzled glance with her and then followed Chello up through the wall. As they got closer, he could hear the sound of pigeons squawking at each other and flapping around the big room. He glimpsed a bit of light ahead and the next thing he knew, Chello had burst out of the hole into the room and he was right behind him.

"Red Raiders!" shouted Chello, fiercely, racing across the floor. "Rats of Acme!"

He lunged toward a pigeon that stood nearby, his red cloak and the wings of his flyer flapping as he ran. It seemed to take the pigeon a moment to realize that the strange thing rushing at it was a rat. It gazed curiously at Chello for a moment, then cocked its head to one side. Within a second, though, it saw him for what he was. It gave a startled lurch and leapt clattering into the air, screaming, "Rat! Red! Rat! Rat!" Chello jumped after it, swinging with his spear, and just missed it as it flew up into the air.

Remembering his plan, Torus headed off in another direction as the birds in the room, already agitated by the earlier events of the day, began screeching and flapping restlessly on their perches. They were gathered in little groups throughout the room, on top of the stacks of boxes and along the rafters of the ceiling. When the first pigeon flew up from the floor, several others also fluttered up reflexively, and started flying from place to place in the room, looking for a higher place to perch.

Torus glanced behind him and saw a steady stream of rats issuing from the hole. All the Raiders were in, now, and the other rats from the clan were following after. Some of them looked confused or nervous, but Torus was glad to see they all seemed willing to keep rushing forward.

By this time, all the pigeons were off the ground and the rats started climbing boxes and the stacks of junk in an effort to reach the birds perched there. Torus clambered to the top of a large wooden crate and startled a couple of birds away. From that vantage point he could see several small groups of rats gathered on various high spots in the room, and several pigeons circling haphazardly around them, taunting them in their strange voices, while many more perched on the rafters gazing down at the melee below them.

Then he saw a bird fly down swiftly from the roof, and he recognized the mottled gray and white plumage of the King. The King swept through the air above the birds circling the rats and called out to them. With all the noise in the air, Torus could only make out a few words, – "Treachery!" "Rat!" "Kill!" – but it was clear he was urging the pigeons to attack. At his words, the birds began swooping down more aggressively at the groups of rats, and even landing near the smaller groups and attempting to move in on them. A big, dark gray pigeon dove down and tried to land near Torus, but he slashed at it with his knife and it retreated.

The fight became more urgent, now, and feathers and bits of fur began to float through the air. The big pigeon came back to where Torus was watching and this time it stayed to fight, despite Torus's knife. It danced about on top of the crate, beating at the air with its wings and trying to get at Torus with its sharp beak. Suddenly it got hold of his cloak and pulled him off his feet. He managed to swivel around and crack it in the side of the head with the handle of his knife and it let go of him, shaking its head, and flew up to the rafters somewhat unevenly.

An anguished cry came from the floor below, and Torus looked down in alarm. A young rat he didn't recognize was struggling to escape from the grip of two pigeons, while a circle of birds surrounded them and kept any other rats from coming to his aid. There was a flash of white and gray, and the King settled down in the middle of the circle and faced the captive rat. With a lurch in his stomach, Torus realized what the King was about to do, and he looked around frantically for a way to help. The King stepped forward and pecked sharply at the struggling rat, who cried out in pain. The rats surrounding them roared in anger and surged forward, but the circle of pigeons held them back, flapping and squawking hysterically. The King said something that made the birds laugh, and then he pecked again at the rat in the middle.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Torus saw a flash of red. Chello leapt down from where he had been fighting a pigeon and ran at full tilt toward the King. The gash on his face had reopened and a trickle of blood ran down his cheek. The other rats in the circle scrambled out of his way. Without slowing at all he swung the weighted end of his spear like a club and knocked aside the pigeons guarding the King. Startled, the King looked up just as Chello crashed into him at full speed, knocking him over along with the two pigeons holding the other rat. The young rat scrambled away to safety and Chello quickly swung his spear around and pointed it directly at the King. They froze for just a moment, and then the circle of pigeons started closing in on Chello.

Not knowing what else to do, Torus jumped off the crate opened the wings of his flyer. He wasn't high enough off the ground to get far, but it was enough to carry him over the crowd of birds on the floor. To his surprise, when they saw his dark shape overhead, they panicked and launched up into the air, leaving Chello and the King now surrounded by rats.

Torus glided down and landed next to Chello and in the same instant the King flew off as well. Without a word, Chello raced after him, leaping up boxes and piles, higher and higher, keeping as close as he could to the King, his teeth clenched and a grimly determined look in his eye.

Torus saw the pigeons making their way up to the rafters and was suddenly struck with an idea.

"To the roof!" he called loudly. "Up to the rafters! Don't give them a place to land!"

He started climbing as well, to the highest place he could find in the room, and then scrabbling up the beams of the walls to reach the rafters. Many of the others followed him, and soon there were rats on each long beam that stretched across the room just under the roof. They ran back and forth, sometimes leaping from one to another, forcing away any pigeon that tried to land. Soon all the birds were circling the room in perplexed flight. Between the rats on the ground and the rats in the roof, there was nowhere they could land.

Torus saw Chello, still chasing the King, now up among the rafters. He leapt lightly from one beam to the next, clutching his spear and getting closer and closer to the bird as it tried frantically to keep its distance.

Torus had another thought, and shouted to Chello,

"Force him down! Into the flock!"

Chello didn't answer, but very shortly he worked the King into a corner and the bird was forced to fly down into the room to escape him. Without hesitation, Chello jumped after him, opening the wings of his flyer, and Torus followed, diving swiftly and silently into the dead center of the circling flock.

The sight of two flying rats was too much for the agitated birds. Almost as one, they wheeled away from the rats and raced toward the broken windows and out into the deep twilight of late evening. There was an explosion of flapping wings and screeching calls as they flew out, and then the rats throughout the room broke into wild cheers and triumphant shouts as Chello and Torus glided down to the floor.

The celebration was short lived, however. There was a screech from near the window and Torus turned to see a pigeon silhouetted against the evening sky.

"Rat treacherous rat red!" it said. "Culucu I King frighten not!"

The rats fell silent and Chello started walking toward the bird.

"Rat red rat rat," continued the bird. "Flock frighten King I not fright not!"

Chello didn't respond, except to continue moving toward the bird. Torus and a few others started to follow him, and soon the bird was close enough that he could see it was the king, his white splotches shining dimly in the fading light.

"Rat die red!" the King screamed, becoming nervous. "Rat blood red blood die red!" It hopped on the window sill in front of the broken-out pane and fluttered its wings. "Rat red stupid!"

"Probably," Chello muttered.

Then, without warning, he darted forward and leapt up to the windowsill where the bird stood. It barely had time to turn and flap awkwardly out the window before Chello reached the spot. Without stopping, Chello launched himself off the edge of the window frame and out into the air. Torus rushed up to the window and looked out anxiously. He saw the pigeon flapping madly down toward the alley and the dark shape of Chello's flyer, with the wings narrowly extended, diving almost straight down toward the bird.

The pigeon glanced behind him, and seeing Chello approaching, swerved sharply to the right. Chello reacted just as quickly. Pulling his dive to the right without losing any speed he neared the bird and then, instead of maneuvering and attacking with his spear, he crashed right into it. As he clung to it, its wings became entangled in the fabric and wires of his flyer, and together they fell in a wobbling spiral into the darkness at the bottom of the alley, where they landed with a smack and then lay still.

Torus gasped when he saw Chello crash.

"What is it?" said Nevi. "What's going on?"

"We have to get down there," he replied. "Meet me down in the alley." He launched himself out into the air and glided as quickly as he dared down to where Chello and the pigeon lay.

By the time he landed, Chello was shaking off the effects of his flight. He shrugged of the remains of his flyer and picked up his spear from where it had fallen. He was scuffed and bruised, and he limped slightly. The bird had recovered somewhat as well, although it still looked stunned, and it held one wing at an awkward angle, as though it were sprained or broken.

"Are you okay?" asked Torus. Chello ignored him, staring angrily at the bird. He started walking toward it and it stepped backward toward the blind end of the alley.

"What are you doing?" Torus asked, trying to grab Chello's arm. Chello shrugged him off and continued toward the bird, grim and resolute. Other rats began to join them, Nevi among them, coming from the hole in the wall and watching tensely. A couple of pigeons flew into the alley and circled briefly high overhead. The King called to them weakly but they turned and flew off without replying. High above, the hawk circled slowly in the fading twilight.

The King turned to Chello.

"Rat red kill don't," it said, backing up against the pile of trash and junk at the back of the alley.

Chello remained silent and continued approaching the bird until he was directly in front of it. It hopped back and forth with no place to go, squawking feebly.

"Rat treachery rat," it said. "Kill don't."

Chello stood for what seemed like a long time, staring at the bird and breathing heavily. The other rats shuffled up nervously and murmured to each other.

"Chello, what..." Nevi started, but trailed off without finishing.

Finally, Chello gripped his spear and leaned in toward the bird.

"I should kill you," he said, quietly. Then he reached out and grabbed the bird's wing, giving it a sharp yank. The bird yelped in pain and Chello stepped back, holding a long white feather.

"Get out of here," he said to the bird. "Leave us alone now."

He turned and walked away from the King, and the crowd of rats parted to let him pass. Torus caught his glance as he went by, but his expression was unreadable. The other rats began to move away from the pigeon and it eyed them suspiciously. Then it hobbled quickly between them to an open space on the ground and flapped its wings unevenly, trying to get into the air. After a couple of failed attempts it finally was able to get aloft, and it staggered in the air, up and over the street, until it disappeared in the darkness over the park.

Torus looked at Chello, who watched the bird leave and then looked at the white feather in his hand.

"Now what?" Torus asked. He looked up at the empty sky. "Do you think the hawk will get him?"

"Come on," said Chello, turning abruptly toward the entrance to the building. "I have to go wake up the Chief."

* * *

Chapter Thirty Three

When the rats returned from the alley and entered the gathering room, they found things in an uproar. Most of the rats from the attic had returned already, and a dozen different versions of the battle were circulating through the crowd. Parents whose children hadn't yet returned were frantic, asking for news, and they swooped down upon Torus and the others as soon as they entered.

"What in the world?" Nevi's mother asked, holding her tightly. "How could you?"

Nevi mumbled some reply from deep inside her mother's embrace.

All around them, the other Raiders were finding their families, laughing, crying, reassuring, adding still more versions of the story to the general hubbub. Torus wanted to find his family as well, but he saw Chello making his way up to the podium and rushed forward to join his friend.

When he caught up with him in the crowd, he asked, "So what are you going to say?"

"I was just going to introduce you and let you do the talking," Chello replied with a grin.

On the podium, Nologo, Dinnick, and Mr. Nile were engaged in a heated discussion. The Chief was awake, but was blinking sleepily, and seemed to be putting little effort into following the conversation. As they saw the young rats approach, however, they fell silent and gazed at them. Nogolo was clearly angry, but Dinnick seemed calm and watchful, and Mr. Nile was plainly amused.

"Yes, what is it?" Nogolo demanded shortly when they had reached the podium.

Chello began, "Before we're banished we wanted – "

"What?" Nogolo interrupted. "I can't hear anything you say. Be quiet everyone," he called out irritably. "For cheese's sake be quiet for just a moment!" He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead.

"Now, what is it?" he said again once the noise had died down somewhat.

"Before we're banished," Chello started again, "we would like to let you know that not only is the dumpster free, but the pigeons have left the attic and won't be returning."

There were some approving shouts from the audience, but Nogolo waved them down.

"How can you know that," he said. "We had an agreement with them, as you may recall. How can you know they won't hold us to it, and maybe worse, for this insult you have brought on them?"

Chello jumped up on the podium and turned to face the crowd.

"The pigbird King knows very well what will happen to him if he dares to return!" he shouted, waving the white feather above his head.

This time the crowd erupted in cheers and it was a full minute before Nogolo could wave them down.

"These young rats," he stammered, "these young rats –"

"It was a bad agreement to begin with," said Torus, interrupting him. "It was never really for the good of the Clan, and I think everyone here knows it."

There were murmurs of agreement from the assembled rats, and Nogolo looked out at them nervously.

"Whatever we may have meant the agreement to be at the beginning," Torus continued, "it became something else. Surely you can see that, can't you?" he said, turning to Nogolo. "Surely you didn't mean for this to lead to so much hunger and unhappiness for the Clan?"

He paused for a long moment, and Nogolo stammered awkwardly.

"Well, I, no, I, of course..."

Torus turned back to the crowd and, with Chello's frequent assistance, briefly told them what they had done, and why. He told all about building the flyers and planning the raid on the dumpster.

"We didn't originally mean to take back the attic this time, but that's how it worked out, I guess," he concluded.

"Yeah," added Chello, "and it's a great place up there! It's warm, and there's tons of room and all kinds of stuff. Probably a hundred families could live up there."

"Interesting," said Mr. Nile. "Interesting that it was blocked off, as you said, and that so few rats know about it."

"Curious," said Nogolo, weakly.

"Curious," mumbled the Chief.

"In any case," Mr. Nile continued, "I'd say you young rats have done the Clan a great service. Wouldn't you agree, Nogolo?"

"Yes, of course," said Nogolo, suddenly seizing the idea. "A very great service indeed!" He turned to Torus and Chello. "You two, especially, have shown great courage and...ingenuity. It's clear the Clan will...benefit greatly from your...courage, and..."

"And about their banishment..." Mr. Nile prompted him.

"Oh, yes, certainly," Nogolo continued. "No one shall be banished, of course!"

"Who is banished?" asked the Chief, foggily.

"No one, Chief," said Mr. Nile, kindly, "as Nogolo has so wisely said."

"Well," said Nogolo, struggling to retain the focus of the assembly. "This has been a most...trying day. I suggest – "

"I suggest we eat!" came a shout from the crowd. The suggestion was followed by a roar of approval.

"Very well," said Nogolo, giving up. "It is forage time, in any case."

"And as I understand it," Mr. Nile interjected, "the dumpster is now free to us and overflowing with food."

"By all means, then," said Dinnick loudly, "let us go and reap the bounty that lies before us!"

There was another roar of approval, and rats began filing out of the room.

"And then, perhaps," said Mr. Nile, so quietly only the rats on the podium could hear, "we shall discuss the management of the Clan Stockpile." He eyed Nogolo's plump belly appraisingly.

"Indeed..." said Nogolo, cautiously. "New times may call for new...policies."

"Indeed," mumbled the Chief, yawning. "Stockpile."

"And another thing," Mr. Nile continued as the leaders followed the crowd away, "if the heat could somehow find its way back into my den..."

As the rest of the rats were leaving, Chello's and Torus' families had come up to the podium. The two young rats jumped down into a miniature version of the reunion after the battle. After the hugs and the explanations, and after Chello had been scolded tenderly by his mother, he turned to his father.

"Here," he said, awkwardly, holding out the white feather. "I got this for you. Maybe you can scratch your back with it or something."

His father squinted at the feather with his one good eye, turning it over in his paws.

"Thanks, son," he said, finally. "My back don't itch so much anymore." He reached up and stuck the feather at a jaunty angle in Chello's hat. "There," he said. "That's just what it needed. Come on home now, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," said Chello. He took off his hat and ran his fingers along the feather, smoothing it out. Then he swooped the hat back onto his head and struck a pose.

"I'm starved," he said importantly. "Is there anything to eat at home?"

His father laughed and his mother gave him another hug. "Of course," she said, "We'll find something," and the family turned to leave.

"See you tomorrow," said Chello to Torus over his shoulder. "Not too early!"

"Okay," Torus replied. He looked around at his own family surrounding him, his father and sisters, and Moki, who seemed as full of energy as when the day had started. Torus, however, suddenly felt exhausted.

"Okay," he said, "so what happened was – "

His father stopped him.

"No, don't worry about it," he said. "I know you stood up to the pigeons. And you stood up to Nogolo in front of the whole clan! It takes guts to do that, more guts than I have. _And_ , you got him to agree with you and change his position on something. I've _never_ seen that happen before."

"You would have done the same thing," said Torus.

"Not me," said his father. "Not in front of the whole clan, anyway. That took a lot of courage."

"I don't know," said Torus. "It didn't feel like courage at the time. It just seemed like the right thing to do."

"Well, sometimes it takes a bunch a crazy young rats to shake everyone out of their holes and do the right thing."

"Hungry!" said Moki suddenly. "Eat food now!"

"There wasn't anything at home when I left," said Torus. "Should we go out to the dumpster with everyone else?"

"No, you go on home with the girls," his father replied. "Moki and I can bring home enough for all of us, right?"

"You bet!" said Moki, excitedly.

"We'll all get something to eat," his father continued, "and then you can tell me about how you built this wingy thing."

Torus hadn't realized he was still wearing his flyer. He shrugged it off and dragged it behind him as he made his way home with Shona and Nosha chattering on either side. They had heard several different version of the battle in the attic, and although he tried to set them straight on a few points, by the time they got home he was no longer sure exactly what had happened. Back at the den, he leaned his knife and flyer in a corner and lay down to wait.

But long before Moki and his father returned he was fast asleep.

He slept late, and woke up famished. The rest of the family was gone, but they had left him plenty of food, nicely arranged on a scrap of paper by the bed. He gobbled up the first half eagerly, then slowed down and worked his way through the rest at a more relaxed pace. He was nearly done when a voice called his name from outside.

"Down here!" he called around a mouthful of peanut butter. Chello came sauntering in, followed by Nevi. Chello was wearing his hat, with the white feather sticking up jauntily.

"Hey, look!" he said, pointing at Torus. "It's a flying rat!"

"Whatever..." said Torus, stretching and yawning hugely.

"I can hardly believe we did that," said Nevi.

"You'd better believe it," said Chello. "I think Dumpish wants flyers for the whole Patrol now."

"I guess I'll have to find some more bumblers, then," said Torus, scratching his belly contentedly.

The three chatted for a while, recounting various elements of their adventure, then found themselves leaving the den and wandering aimlessly through the tunnels. They passed a few rats going about their business and no one seemed to give them a second look, except a few that looked askance at Chello's hat.

"It feels like things are back to normal," said Nevi after a while. "I mean, not normal like over the winter, but the old normal. Before the pigeons came."

"Yeah," said Chello, poking his nose up in the air. "Hey! Let's go out to the alley and see what's up."

"Why?" asked Nevi. "Do you want to find some more feathers?"

"Maybe so," said Chello, mockingly.

He headed off at a trot and the others followed him through the tunnels that led to the hole in the alley wall. As they got closer, Torus could smell the fresh spring air. And when they were nearly there, he caught a whiff of something else, something he almost recognized. He was about to say something when Chello poked his nose out into the alley and said "Hey, look!"

"What is it?" said Nevi, moving up beside him to look out.

Torus moved up on Chello's other side, and looking out, saw the familiar sight, and caught the familiar smell, of a ragged looking human, sitting on a plastic milk crate in the middle of the alley, eating a sandwich.

"It's Sandwich Man!" squeaked Nevi, happily. "He's back!"

The dog, who was lying peacefully on its side at the man's feet, perked up one ear and raised its head to look at them. Then it lay its head back down and gave its tail one floppy wag against the ground.

"Rat," it said, sleepily.

"Hi, dog," Chello shouted happily.

"Shhh!" said Nevi. "Sandwich Man'll hear you!"

"So what?" said Chello, dismissively. "Hey dog! Say 'Hi' to your human for us!"

"Be quiet," said Nevi, giggling. "You'll get us in trouble."

The dog looked up at the man and said "Rat say 'Hi.'"

The man, who had just pulled a pickle out of his sandwich, looked down at the dog with a puzzled look.

"Ooom?" it said.

"Rat say 'Hi,'" said the dog again, looking over at them.

The man looked at the dog for a moment, and then followed the dog's gaze over the hole in the wall where the three rats gazed out.

"Hi there, big human!" said Chello, raising his hat politely.

"Stop that!" said Torus as he clenched his teeth to keep from laughing.

The man squinted at Chello and tipped its head to one side, wrinkling its forehead. It had bushy gray hair on its face, and Torus suddenly thought the man and the dog looked oddly similar.

"Hey, can I have that pickle?" Chello called out.

The man looked confused.

"Ooom?" it said again.

"Rat want pickle," said the dog, laughing. "Pickle bad. Rat like."

The man looked back at the rats and held up the pickle.

"Awah?" it said. "Awah gomma bogga?"

"Yes! Yes!" said Chello, excitedly. "We want _all_ your pickles!"

Uncertainly, as if it wasn't sure it believed what was happening, the man tossed the pickle toward the rats and it landed on the ground in front of the hole. Chello hopped down and picked it up.

"Thank you!" he said. "If you have some more, for my friends here, that would be great!"

Torus and Nevi stepped down cautiously beside Chello and waited. The man shook his head, sighed, and began picking through his sandwich. He pulled out two more pickle slices and tossed them to the rats and then resumed eating. The dog laughed, quietly.

"Man happy," he said. "Man like rat."

Torus and the others climbed back into the comfort of the hole in the wall and stretched out, each with a slice of pickle in hand. Before he lay down, Chello placed his hat carefully on the ground and straightened the feather out. Then he lay back, took a big bite of his pickle, closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

"Torus," he said, "this is without a doubt the best pickle I have ever had in my entire life."

# # # # #

About the Author

K. H. Gordon writes for children and adults. He lives with his family in Salt Lake City. Watch for _The Armoire Pirate_ coming soon, and _Whitefeather_ , the sequel to Red Raiders, coming next summer.

Visit him on-line at www.khgordonbooks.com

Learn more about the world of Red Raiders at The Red Raiders Facebook Page
