Frontier Rats - Quest for Ratopia

Nine busy and blissful months have passed and the planet surface is a hive of activity. A human farmer drives a tractor pulling a plough across a new field, while a line of rats wearing straw hats and white cotton tunics follow behind, throwing seeds into the furrows. New meadows stretch out into the distance populated by neat lines of young apple, pear and hazel trees. Rows and rows of vegetables cover another field and huge barrels are filled with strawberry plants that hang over the edges, bulging with luscious red fruit. At the edge of the meadow wooden bee hives are already buzzing with hard-working bees pollinating the flowers of the purple fruit trees. Perfect oblong fields of oats and barley blow in the light breeze and ripen under the shining Ratopian sun.

A steady stream of rats and humans file in and out of the Patrick Moore carrying equipment and supplies. Another line of rats carry clumps of purple fruit up to a table where Scout loads it into a mashing machine. The machine crushes the fruit and juice pours into a container below. A farmer rat slumps against it, drunk. He makes a loud burp!

Behind the ship a small settlement is under construction. Wood-framed houses swarm with men and rats hammering and sanding, painting and sawing. A line of young rats walk up and down a sloping beam with paws full of nails which they deliver to the human labourers. Next to this construction site are small rows of miniature versions of the same, individual rat homes already finished. Painted in various colours, each has a neat little garden in front and back. A mother sings softly as she spoon-feeds a row of seven little kits on a long bench all wrapped in cotton, laying on a bed of soft white fluff.

A watermill sits next to a wide river with a waterwheel rolling round and round steadily to power the mill. Tark, Gark, Metnaz and Kazouri sit at a long table kneading bread. Gark picks up a large bread paddle and slides it under three loaves. He carries them over to a boiling-hot, wood-fired bread oven and slides them inside. Then he slides the paddle under three other loaves that are already cooked and takes them back to the table. They all raise their noses to smell the fantastic aroma of freshly baked bread.

Scrod and Fazool are busy repairing the Vandal. Scrod lies underneath, his paw reaching out and up. “Wrench?!”

Fazool hands him a screwdriver and says. “Wrench.”

“No, the other wrench?”

Fazool hands him a wrench and smiles. “Other wrench.”

On the bridge of the Vandal Uphrasia sits at the main console with Carak next to him going over the controls. He points at a button. “And this is the main viewer zoom?”

“Yes! Up to zoom in, down for out,” Carak nods enthusiastically. “That button is for targeting and this one is lock on target.”

“Ah yes.” He moves the joy stick around and the crosshair on the screen moves over a view of the construction site.” Uphrasia zooms in on a paint tin.

A human painter dips a brush into the paint pot and dabs it onto a window frame.

Uphrasia presses a red button. “This must be for lock off?”

Carak tries to stop him but it’s too late. “No, that’s fire!”

The laser weapon on the top of the ship fires a short bolt of white light and the paint tin is evaporated. The painter dips his paint brush unaware, then looks around puzzled. Where has it gone?

In the centre of the settlement is a large geodesic dome made out of white triangle shapes on a metal frame. A lab rat stands at the entrance door, taps a code into a key pad, the door opens and he enters. Inside a brand-new laboratory has been constructed and Nute sits at a high desk looking through a giant magnifying glass and solders a circuit board. On a large bench in the centre of the room is the remains of the Cybormoggy that Uphrasia defeated on the Patrick Moore. The head has been altered to look like a rat’s and the body is laid flat on its back with panels open and the interior circuitry exposed. A team of lab rats beaver away at it, pulling out cables and reattaching circuit boards.

A few metres beyond the dome is a small school house with tall pillars supporting a thatched roof. The sides are open and rows of young rats sit listening intently to Thompus as he gives a lecture on bravery. “You see, when you are facing imminent death you must not show any fear! You have to be brave in the face of peril!” A small black rat raises her paw and Thompus nods at her.

“Is that how you defeated the deadly Bilothian captain sir?”

Thompus looks very smug. “Well it was a rough fight but I used my deadly fighting skills learned at astro school!” A young albino rat butts in.

“But I heard it was General Scrod who defeated the Bilothian captain sir?”

Thompus shrugs. “Well in the heat of battle it’s hard to remember who battled with who. Let’s just say it was a team effort!” He punches the air rather unconvincingly. “Kapow! And, yes, well… OK. That’s all for today. Remember little ones, love all, trust a few, do wrong to none!” The young rats exit the school room and walk past a large mixed group of rats watching a cooking demonstration hosted by Konrad. He wears a white chef’s hat and stands behind a table covered in ingredients and a large mixing bowl. He picks up the bowl and, using a wooden spoon, whips a creamy batter. “The key to the perfect ship’s biscuit is not too much cinnamon! Next I will demonstrate megoroslug au vin.” The crowd ooh and ah!

Rose marches along behind the crowd in a shiny new elite cadet’s uniform, proudly wearing her first officer’s insignia on her breast pocket. Eight rats march behind her in matching uniforms, including black rats, brown rats, fancy rats, an albino rat and a pair of Zucker rats. They march into a white-painted building with a shiny silver sign over the entrance: “Town Council.” Rose takes her place at one of several raised tables set up in a semicircle. Six human representatives, including Captain Villeroy, sit at low tables in a semi-circle facing the rats. They discuss the important matters of business affecting the new community. A black rat raises her paw. Villeroy points to her and she speaks, “We need more sewers!” All the rats shout out, “Hear, hear!”

Villeroy writes down the request. “More sewers. Right.”

“Plus, the main sewer should go directly under the rat’s community with unlimited access for all rats to drains, manholes and flood vents.”

Villeroy nods in agreement. “Unlimited access.”

A brown rat adds. “You need to throw away more food waste!”

Villeroy looks confused. “But we try not to waste food.”

Rose explains. “We prefer our food a little on the rotten side.”

“I see.” He thinks for a while then, “Perhaps we could create a food waste depot next to the rat’s community.”

All the rats nod and shout “Hear, hear!”

The rats and humans exit the building and they all look very pleased with the outcome of their council meeting.

Nute backs out of the geodesic dome with the other lab rats. She holds a remote control in her paws. Then the new Cyborat emerges into the sunlight. It walks on two feet with heavy, thudding footsteps. The eyes glow bright orange with new lenses Nute has made from the calcite crystals she collected. The Cyborat stops and sways a little back and forth. Scout hops up beside Nute looking nervous. “Is it s-safe?”

“Sure, although I have not activated the central core yet, I believe I have managed to reprogram the main hard drive and we have made a few positive image changes as you can see.” The young school rats gather round to watch. Nute pushes her wires back over her head and takes a deep breath. “Here goes!” She presses a button and the Cyborat activates. The eyes start to flash and the jaw snaps open and shut three times. Then in a loud booming voice it shouts, “Exterminate all vermin! Exterminate all vermin!” All the school rats run away squealing!

Thompus jumps into the town water well and clings onto the bucket. As he drops down the well rope unravels. There is a splash and a plaintive cry from within, “Help!

Nute taps away on her remote control and grins. “Oops I forgot to reset the voice memory. This should do the trick!” She flicks another switch and the Cyborat says in a softer voice “Rescue all rodents! Rescue all rodents!” It winds up the well handle and a soaking Thompus emerges looking very cross.

Later on Thompus sits beside a fire drying off and cleaning out water from his ears. A pair of human feet arrive and stand next to him. He looks up to see Professor Fenkle standing over him. Thompus drops his towel.

“Please don’t be alarmed, I mean you no harm.” Fenkle smiles a crooked smile.

Thompus scowls up at him. “You tortured me!”

“Ah yes. I must apologise for that but you have to admit the food was good!”

Thompus raises his eyebrows and nods. “Yes I guess the food was rather good.”

“I was wondering if we could come to terms?”

“Terms?” Thompus picks up the towel and dries his feet. “What terms?”

“You have some rather sensitive files in your memory chip I would very much like to have returned.”

Thompus grins. “Oh yes! Those embarrassing pictures.”

Fenkle fans his hands up and down. “Yes. Well let’s keep this between us shall we?”

“Well what do you have to trade?”

“Whatever you like my dear little friend.”

Thompus scratches his chest. “There are a few movies on the ships memory banks I’d like to see.”

“Movies?”

“Yes. The Bubonic Plague, Rats’ Night of Terror, Ben and Rodentz. There are loads more.”

“What a splendid idea! I love a good horror movie. How about you come over to my place and Ilonja will make you a splendid dinner? Then we can watch these rat movies on my big screen!”

“I suppose the food will be very good?”

“Ilonja is a master chef! I can guarantee the food will be top notch, and I promise not a hint of torture.”

Thompus smiles. “To be or not to be, that is the question. I’m in!”

After just twelve months most of the settlement is fully constructed and people begin to get on with their lives. A market has sprung up in the town centre and Scout is doing a roaring trade selling a bottled version of his boozy purple drink to the humans. The first harvest has come in and all sorts of vegetables and home produce are on sale. The Tingoils have a bakery stall and a large queue forms for their latest speciality: a purple wholemeal loaf. Gark and Tark wanted to set up a stall together but they are still arguing about what to sell.

All the school rats sit at a long wooden table for a lunchtime banquet. The Cyborat waits on them bringing tray after tray of delicious food: purple fruit pies, freshly baked bread courtesy of the Tingoils and a selection of Konrad’s culinary creations, including ship’s biscuits, of course.

Away from all this activity is a lush green meadow. Insects buzz and zizz in the long waving grass. Uphrasia and Rose lie on their backs in the sun, eyes closed, paws clasped together. Uphrasia beams a wide smile at her. “This is so much better than in my dreams.”

“Yes, we actually found our Ratopia, didn’t we?” She nestles close to him and nuzzles her snout in his fur.

“We sure did. It will be nice to settle down here.”

“How many kits will we have?”

“Oh. At least thirty in the first litter.”

She jabs him in the ribs with her elbow. “Hey I’m not popping out thirty kits. No way!”

They both look up into the sky and close their eyes.

Konrad’s voice shouts in the distance “Uphrasia!”

“Oh bother, what is it now?” Uphrasia stands up and looks left and right.

Uphrasia and Rose emerge from the tall grass to find Konrad and Thompus standing next to the Vandal wearing their spacesuits. Uphrasia stops smiling. “What’s going on, guys?”

Konrad places his right foot on his space helmet and puffs up his chest. “Space travel, danger, the unknown. Everything we signed up for at Space Corps buddy.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Yes, my friend, we are going on another adventure!”

Uphrasia’s mouth turns down at the sides. “What about Ratopia?”

Nute steps out of the Vandal and walks down to Uphrasia. She puts her paw in the pocket of her lab coat, pulls out the letter and gives it to him. “Grandfather slipped this into my pocket. I think he meant to give it to you. When the time was right.” Uphrasia looks shocked as he reads the familiar paw-writing on the envelope. He walks over to the well and leans against it. The Cyborat’s heavy metal feet thud up the gangway carrying a large crate of bottles containing purple juice.

As Uphrasia reads the letter a change comes over his face, like a great weight has been lifted.

My dear Son,

I am so sorry I cannot be with you today. You must have had many questions to ask me as you were growing up, none of which I could answer as I was so far away from you and my beloved wife.

If you are reading this, then my good friend Jonas Abler will have kept his promise and encouraged you to seek a life of adventure and exploration. A dangerous but eventful life; and by now I am sure you will know the great rewards it can reveal. Of course, if you are reading this note then I am not with you. I have not returned as planned from my own adventure to bring you and Margaret to a new home in the stars.

My plan was to head for the Crab Nebular in the hope of finding somewhere to settle. No doubt I am dead or lost in space; either way I want you to be brave, courageous and strong. After all it is in our nature as rats to explore and seek adventure and despite the risks, it would be a shame not to follow your destiny.

Perhaps one day we may meet again and you can tell me all about your own wonderful travels.

Please know that not a day goes by when I don’t think of you. I will always be proud of you and love you.

Your father,

Edward Teach.

Uphrasia frowns and looks up at Konrad with watery eyes. Rose puts her paw on his shoulder. “It would be a shame to miss out on all that adventure and danger, don’t you think?”

He looks at her aghast. “You too?”

She throws out her arms. “Space travel! Life-threatening situations! Diabolical aliens! Asteroid storms!” She raises her eyebrows and tilts her head.

Uphrasia rubs his chin. “Well…”

Scout arrives carrying a large box and gives it to Konrad.

Konrad grins. “Captain Villeroy has given us his whole supply of ship’s biscuits. Seems the humans aren’t so keen on them.”

Uphrasia jumps into the air and claps all four paws together. “I’m in!”

As they all board the Vandal, Uphrasia and Rose pause at the top of the gangway and look back at the bustling scene. Rose sighs. “It’s going to be a beautiful little town. Scrod stands on the gangway of the Patrick Moore wearing a smart black shirt with his bright shining silver star on his chest. He beams a warm smile, waves them farewell and they wave back. Rose squeezes Uphrasia’s paw. “You don’t mind leaving Ratopia?”

He kisses her gently on the forehead, looks into her eyes and smiles. “You’re my Ratopia.”

The Tingoils and the Bilothians operate the controls, all sporting brand-new Space Corps uniforms. Carak instructs Nute on how to operate the controls of his station. Uphrasia sits in the command chair looking through space charts with Fazool. He talks into a microphone on the command console “Bibulous! Don’t be all day down there!”

In the ship’s galley Bibulous is washing up a huge pile of dishes in a big metal sink. He has a bandage on his injured antenna where Scrod bit him. “This is so demeaning. One of these days!” He shakes both his fists, then winces and strokes his antenna. “Ouch.”

The cargo hold is full of boxes, some labelled “Ship’s Biscuits” others containing supplies and equipment. Konrad and Metnaz check off the inventory as Kazouri stacks yet more crates of ship’s biscuits onto the shelves. Rose is in the engine room overseeing Tark and Gark as they make welding repairs to the fuel lines. Thompus in the meantime is outside painting a new sign on the side of the ship. Underneath the words “The Vandal” he has painted a Space Corps logo with “Frontier Rats” in smaller letters underneath. Down in the fluff store, in the darkest corner of the room, a pair of red eyes glow in the centre of a feint outline of a Cybormoggy’s head.

All the crew gather on the bridge. There is an air of excitement as they make their final checks. Fazool sits next to Uphrasia on the command console and Kazouri and Metnaz assist the constantly arguing Gark and Tark. Nute and Carak operate the long range scanners. Carak looks over to Uphrasia. “What’s our destination Captain?”

Uphrasia looks at the screen for a moment then smiles. “Enter co-ordinates for the Crab Nebular!”

“Are we going to blow it up?” Carak grins.

“No! What is it with you? We’re not blowing anything up. Just set the course.”

Carak sulks as he taps away at his console and under his breath says. “No fun anymore, no explosions, no kaboom.”

The cargo door is raised up and seals with a hiss. The engines ignite and roar and jets blast downwards from the underside lifting the ship up vertically. Then the Vandal blasts up into the blue sky in an arc of vapour. It vanishes into the clouds then re-appears above the planet. The engines roar, rising in volume and pitch. Then in a blinding flash it darts off into space getting smaller and smaller until it is just a tiny speck.

THE END