soft awe. ‘‘Lookit the size of that sucker.’’
‘‘Yeah. Wow,’’ Playmate added.
‘‘There are lots more inside,’’ Singe told us. ‘‘That is why John wants the boxes.’’
‘‘Yeah,’’ Tharpe said. ‘‘You guys hand a couple of them back here. Me an’ Play will carry them in.’’
I didn’t talk him out of volunteering, but I did say, ‘‘When you’re done with that, help Git and Bank look for gang sign. Though this don’t look like what Handsome’s thing was.’’ Then I said, ‘‘I’ve seen something like this before.’’ As Git and Bank dragged the body into the open. ‘‘In the islands. Soldier ants did it.’’
The Guards kicked more dead bugs around. Git said, ‘‘This guy was alive when they got him. He fought.’’
Bank grunted. ‘‘He crawled in here to get out of the weather. They hit him when he was sleeping.’’
I edged closer. Old Bones would want every detail. Including the stink. ‘‘Where’s all the blood?’’ There should have been blood everywhere.
‘‘Down some bug’s gullet,’’ Git said. ‘‘Bugs got gullets? How do they work?’’
‘‘Got me,’’ Bank said. ‘‘Gonna need some big boots to squish these bastards.’’
Singe said, ‘‘Garrett, you need to come inside.’’
Saucerhead and Playmate had boxes and were waiting. I grabbed one myself, toddled after the band.
The ratmen had gathered about where I’d talked to the carpenters before. Wicker cages surrounded them. John Stretch’s henchrats were scared. My dull human nose could smell it.
John Stretch said, ‘‘This is bigger than it looks, Garrett.’’ Producing some odor himself. ‘‘We need many more rats than we brought.’’
‘‘Why’s that?’’
‘‘Because there are so many bugs. And because they are fighting back. No. That is not right. They do not think. Less so, even, than the beasts I am using to kill them. But they are not afraid. They are eating my rats. And each other, when the rats dispatch them.’’
Good word choice, Pound Humility. ‘‘Dispatch.’’ Very neutral.
‘‘There are a lot of bugs, then.’’
‘‘Thousands. And the ones that have surfaced are the smallest.’’
‘‘Ouch! That’s not good.’’
‘‘Very much not good. I would like to withdraw now, see what I can learn from the surviving rats, and develop a more definitive strategy.’’
And renegotiate, no doubt. After flinging around a few more big words borrowed from Singe.
Saucerhead squeaked, jumped, snarled, ‘‘Holy fucking camel snot!’’
A bull rat who looked like the undisputed heavyweight champion barbarian hero of all ratkind had just dropped a gift at our feet, then collapsed from exhaustion.
The bug was some kind of tropical exotic beetle, all shimmering oily shine on a deep background of dark green, indigo, and black. A foot long. Still twitching. But it had been conquered by the hero.
Other rats began to arrive. Each brought a prize. John Stretch’s buddies tossed bugs into boxes and pushed rats into cages. Even the heavyweight hero seemed happy to be locked up safe. All his savagery had been spent.
I said, ‘‘I’ll see Old Man Weider before we take any next step. Singe. John Stretch. Go back to my place. Fill the Dead Man in. If he hasn’t fallen asleep. Saucerhead. You’re on the payroll. Retainer rate for now. Play. Keep a coach handy. It may take an even bigger . . .’’
I looked to John Stretch. ‘‘You sort of know what the critters found down there. Right?’’
‘‘Yes.’’
‘‘Is this method workable?’’
‘‘Probably. But it will be a strain. It will require many more rats. They burn out. Most of these will refuse to go down again.’’
‘‘Singe. I smell a business opportunity.’’
‘‘Again? I still have not worked out how to exploit the last one.’’ She meant taking advantage of ratfolks’ high tolerance for boredom by using them to copy books. Most had trouble developing
‘‘Yeah. Wow,’’ Playmate added.
‘‘There are lots more inside,’’ Singe told us. ‘‘That is why John wants the boxes.’’
‘‘Yeah,’’ Tharpe said. ‘‘You guys hand a couple of them back here. Me an’ Play will carry them in.’’
I didn’t talk him out of volunteering, but I did say, ‘‘When you’re done with that, help Git and Bank look for gang sign. Though this don’t look like what Handsome’s thing was.’’ Then I said, ‘‘I’ve seen something like this before.’’ As Git and Bank dragged the body into the open. ‘‘In the islands. Soldier ants did it.’’
The Guards kicked more dead bugs around. Git said, ‘‘This guy was alive when they got him. He fought.’’
Bank grunted. ‘‘He crawled in here to get out of the weather. They hit him when he was sleeping.’’
I edged closer. Old Bones would want every detail. Including the stink. ‘‘Where’s all the blood?’’ There should have been blood everywhere.
‘‘Down some bug’s gullet,’’ Git said. ‘‘Bugs got gullets? How do they work?’’
‘‘Got me,’’ Bank said. ‘‘Gonna need some big boots to squish these bastards.’’
Singe said, ‘‘Garrett, you need to come inside.’’
Saucerhead and Playmate had boxes and were waiting. I grabbed one myself, toddled after the band.
The ratmen had gathered about where I’d talked to the carpenters before. Wicker cages surrounded them. John Stretch’s henchrats were scared. My dull human nose could smell it.
John Stretch said, ‘‘This is bigger than it looks, Garrett.’’ Producing some odor himself. ‘‘We need many more rats than we brought.’’
‘‘Why’s that?’’
‘‘Because there are so many bugs. And because they are fighting back. No. That is not right. They do not think. Less so, even, than the beasts I am using to kill them. But they are not afraid. They are eating my rats. And each other, when the rats dispatch them.’’
Good word choice, Pound Humility. ‘‘Dispatch.’’ Very neutral.
‘‘There are a lot of bugs, then.’’
‘‘Thousands. And the ones that have surfaced are the smallest.’’
‘‘Ouch! That’s not good.’’
‘‘Very much not good. I would like to withdraw now, see what I can learn from the surviving rats, and develop a more definitive strategy.’’
And renegotiate, no doubt. After flinging around a few more big words borrowed from Singe.
Saucerhead squeaked, jumped, snarled, ‘‘Holy fucking camel snot!’’
A bull rat who looked like the undisputed heavyweight champion barbarian hero of all ratkind had just dropped a gift at our feet, then collapsed from exhaustion.
The bug was some kind of tropical exotic beetle, all shimmering oily shine on a deep background of dark green, indigo, and black. A foot long. Still twitching. But it had been conquered by the hero.
Other rats began to arrive. Each brought a prize. John Stretch’s buddies tossed bugs into boxes and pushed rats into cages. Even the heavyweight hero seemed happy to be locked up safe. All his savagery had been spent.
I said, ‘‘I’ll see Old Man Weider before we take any next step. Singe. John Stretch. Go back to my place. Fill the Dead Man in. If he hasn’t fallen asleep. Saucerhead. You’re on the payroll. Retainer rate for now. Play. Keep a coach handy. It may take an even bigger . . .’’
I looked to John Stretch. ‘‘You sort of know what the critters found down there. Right?’’
‘‘Yes.’’
‘‘Is this method workable?’’
‘‘Probably. But it will be a strain. It will require many more rats. They burn out. Most of these will refuse to go down again.’’
‘‘Singe. I smell a business opportunity.’’
‘‘Again? I still have not worked out how to exploit the last one.’’ She meant taking advantage of ratfolks’ high tolerance for boredom by using them to copy books. Most had trouble developing
Similar Books
