30 'Astro-Rat'

[Stephen Whiteside]

30 ‘Astro-Rat’

© Stephen Whiteside 11.11.2011

Horatio and Magnifico made their way carefully along the narrow rocky ridge. It led up the bank. About two thirds of the way up, on the downstream side, stood a sturdy bush. This would be a perfect place to hide, thought Magnifico, and he set to digging beside its trunk.

What are you doing?



I’m digging a tunnel. Can’t you see?



But what for?



Us, stupid!

But we don’t need a tunnel. I’ll be fine, just as soon as I dry out a little bit. Then we can press on downstream.

No. We’re stopping for a break. We’ll rest here a day or two, and then push on.

Horatio was about to protest, but Magnifico interrupted him. That was the deal, remember? I would continue to accompany you, but only if we stopped every now and then to smell the flowers? Well, this seems like a good chance to smell the flowers to me.

Horatio nodded resignedly.

Fair enough.

Come on, you might as well help me. No point in standing there feeling sorry for yourself. It’ll warm you up.

So Horatio and Magnifico dug together.

Horatio soon found himself filled with a great energy. Everything seemed to be coming together. They were travelling at night. They had a plan. Of sorts. And, most important of all, he was not alone. That peanut cow was as good as his. He could almost smell it!

Struth, Horatio! Don’t make this tunnel too palatial, or we’ll never want to leave it.

Horatio grinned. It was good digging, too. The loam gave away easily under his claws.

The first signs of light were just beginning to appear above the horizon when the two decided that tunnel was big enough, and they could stop digging.

Before slipping inside, though, Horatio paused to look at the night sky. Back in his home town, he had never taken much interest in it. Even during the early days of his departure, when they had been sleeping at night and travelling by day, he had not really noticed it. But tonight, he felt, had been a night of sheer magic.

He had been lucky, of course. He would appreciate this in time, but didn’t right now. It had been a full moon and a cloudless sky - not a particularly common combination. Still, you take them when you can get them.

The moon was the most obvious feature, of course. He had been told it was made of cheese, and rats love cheese. He had always assumed this to be a fairy tale, but looking at it now, so large, so yellow, so apparently close, it was easy to believe. Still, you wouldn’t want to eat it, would you, because then you wouldn’t have it any more!

And then there were the stars. And the stars were truly incomprehensible. To look at the stars is to look back in time. That much he did know. And it was not a fairy story. Despite the extraordinarily fast speed of light, the distances were so vast that it had taken many, many years for the light from each of them to reach his eyes. This meant that whatever he was seeing now reflected the events of a long time ago.

It was easy to think of the stars as one homogenous group, too. But, of course, this was not right, either. No. Each of the stars was as far away from each other as they were from him, and in many cases much, much further. Some of those stars were ten times as far away from him as others. Or a hundred. Or a thousand. Or...what was the point of even trying to think about it?

And the air above him. Why was the air invisible now? And why could he not see stars during the day-time? And why was the sky blue? It was all to do with the sun somehow. He knew that. But how exactly?

To watch the sun lightening the eastern sky, to see individual stars swallowed up in the broad wash of sun-light, was to watch the hand of God. But Horatio didn’t believe in God. At least he didn’t think he did. But at times like this, it was hard to be sure.

Perhaps he would have to leave this planet to find a peanut cow. Perhaps Magnifico was right. Perhaps there were no cows on this planet. Perhaps it was not just as simple as following a creek until it joined a river, and then following the river until it became a bigger river, and then following that until...until what? Until their luck finally ran out, and an owl and a fox finally swept them up in its powerful jaws?

Perhaps Horatio could be the world’s first astrorat. Or not the world’s first, but at least this planet’s first. Perhaps there were already astrorats present on other worlds. Maybe there was a whole colony of astrorats racing towards him right now, as he thought about it.

Kept in hibernation for a long voyage. Or awake, and fed simply by means of a peanut cow, a self-regenerating, magical peanut cow. Or a nuclear powered cow, maybe. Or some new technology that had not been invented yet on this planet.

Are you coming inside or what? You’ll freeze to death standing out there alone. If an owl doesn’t get you first.

Of course. Of course. I’m coming.

And Horatio disappeared inside the tunnel to join his friend.