The Rat Queen II: The Song of the Rats

By Robby Charters

Sequel to The Rat Queen: Humans and Rats from the ill fated planet of Malvern arrive on Old Earth, and find it only a shadow of its old self, due to not only an EMP that cut them off from the rest of the galaxy, but also another Ice Age.They come with the tools to help, but standing in their way is human nature, and the ill intent of certain Galactic beings.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robby's eBook Formtting
• Release date: Jun 17, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215611777

Robby Charters

I live with my wife and my son, sometimes in Thailand where I was born and my wife is from, sometimes in Ireland where my dad is from. In Thailand, I taught English as a second language. Here in Ireland, I work from home, turning people's manuscripts into e-books. Wherever I am, I write.

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Prologue

The Song of the Rats

In what would have seemed to us like the last few seconds before the planet Malvern entered the event horizon of the Delorean Black Hole, 100 generations of rats proceeded forth from that planet, each group entering a different single moment of time.

By 'moment' we mean the smallest unit of time. For us, it's what we mean by exactly 'right now', the point that separates the past from the future. For those rats that left Malvern during those 100 moments, there was no more past nor future, only the 'right now' moment that they entered.

Those of us who only know four dimensional space-time might think that would feel quite constricting, but for them, it was a liberating experience in a way we could never understand, made possible by the awareness of a fifth dimension.

Through that fifth dimension, and more dimensions beyond, they could explore the entire universe contained in that one moment of time.

And so they explored. Each generation was different from the previous in their outlook, their accumulated knowledge, and their stage of evolutionary change; so the experience that each had of the universe through their respective moment of time, was unique to that generation. So each generation, from their respective moment, emitted an audible tone at a pitch unique to that generation, reflecting their shared experience of the universe. The 100 tones, or musical notes, became the basis for a new form of music in our own time-continuum, the song of the Rats.

Time for the inhabitants of Malvern had been speeding at an exponential rate as the planet was drawn towards the event horizon of the spinning binary black holes. Normally, time slows down in such a situation, but the frame dragging caused by their particular spins and rotational force was having an opposite effect. Each generation went by in half the time as the previous.

Just like the frog who could only leap halfway to the pond, each leap only half the length of previous, thereby never reaching the pond, history for the Melvernians never ended. Though, to those living on a certain other planet, a safe distance away, the consuming of Malvern by the black holes only took a month; the history of human and rat-kind on Malvern stretched out to longer than the history of human civilisation in the rest of the galaxy from Old Earth's prehistory to present.

But the Rat Queen was remembered to the end. The human population eventually dwindled to almost nothing - the downside of a utopia. The very last human was a little girl, also named Becky. After her parents were killed in a boating accident, the local rats took her in and taught her both human language and rat squeaks. She eventually accompanied the last group of rats into the 100th moment. With them, she explored the universe. She crossed paths with the original Rat Queen as she and her family had embarked on their search for Old Earth, and she made herself known to her namesake.

Each generation explored the universe contained in their moment. The design of their spacecraft were far more advanced than any developed in the galaxy up to that point in normal time, and yet surprisingly simple. When building their crafts, the rats were guided by instinct as to what would be suited for fifth dimensional travel through un-time.

So, they spread out and explored the various galaxies, taking in the uniqueness of each star and planet.

Some stars, they found, are capable of communicating in fifth dimensional un-time. Such stars had a lot to teach them, and even told them about rats inhabiting other moments - even later moments, as some stars have a unique perspective on time.

The rats would spread out, but they'd meet up again and share what they'd observed in squeaks that communicated the full picture.

But even more communicative was the tone. Through the universe, the rats knew their maker, the one who designed it all, who had imparted to humanity the mandate to rule, and to guide all of His creatures through their various stages of evolution, as the Rat Queen had guided rat-kind.

And the maker imparted to each generation, their tone. And each generation sang their tone to all the rats travelling across that point in time either in search of Old Earth, or enroute to another human planet.

Thus, each rat in normal fluid space-time received the full musical scale of 100 notes, each note containing the essence unique to the generation that sang it. along with that of the universe as they perceived it, all pointing, in some way, to the Maker.

The Maker also imparted something special to the last Becky, which she imparted to the first Becky, the Rat Queen, when they crossed paths. The Rat Queen began to receive it through her dreams. Also the rats began weaving what tones they remembered into songs which they sang. They all received all 100 tones, but each remembered certain ones more clearly than others, so each one's song was unique.

Yusef Koblinski…

…couldn't take much more. On one hand there was his father's extreme military discipline, and on the other, his unpredictable behaviour. Now he was on his way to the oasis where his mother lived. Maybe he could pick up his studies where he left off with Haji Mayer​ - yet again.

The fortress and the oasis were two different worlds. One was quiet and peaceful, the other loud and militant. Yusef liked it quiet - at least now he decided he liked it quiet.

Back then, maybe he thought it was too quiet. He was bored with his studies and life where nothing ever happened. Then, enter: Col. Patryk Koblinski, his father and his band of fighters, with their loud talking, their slogans and one-liners. He welcomed his father's suggestion that he come away and learn to be a fighter.

All the boys had been so impressed by the fighting men, their manoeuvres and displays - such discipline, such gallantry, and to think this was Yusef's father! The boys all envied him when he went off with the troop. Haji Mayer was disappointed. His mother was cynical.

As usual, his father and mother quarrelled loudly every time they were together. But mother, though she was always ready with her advice, allowed Yusef to make his own decisions.

Patryk Koblinski was not like that. He was forceful, had his own plans for Yusef's life, was tough, unbending, disciplinarian, one to be feared - when he was sober.

There were those periods when he was sober more of the time. It seemed to go in waves. During the previous times with him Yusef hadn't yet detected the up and down pattern of his temperment. At the crest of the wave he was a strict tyrant, intent on moulding Yusef into a copy of himself. He was strict and demanding, not only of Yusef, but of all his men. Very few could stand him at those times. But the men knew him.

'Don't worry,' they told Yusef. 'In a week or two, he'll be more mellow,'

And he was. It was the in-between parts, on the way to being down, or in the middle of the upswing, that Yusef learned more from him about being a fighting man, and even enjoyed him as a father.

His down periods could also be dangerous, especially when he was raging in a drunken super. Yusef didn't know if he preferred him sober or drunk. Mildly drunk he was tolerable, but only until he was very drunk. Then, he was unpredictable, so that Yusef dreaded what would come next.

He had been in his mellow stage a few weeks now, and showing signs of an upswing. Yusef knew it was time to make his move if he didn't want another month or two of sheer misery.

His father and the other men had still been asleep, soon to wake up with a hangover. Abdul was supposed to be on guard duty, but he was engrossed in his reading tablet - top news: a football match between two places far enough away not to be at war with them; in other news: an increased number of UFO sightings, and the continued advance of the northern ice sheets. He didn't notice Yusef slip out the side door with his rucksack.

Yusef wondered how long it would be til they noticed his absence. All day? Maybe not til the next inspection?

It was a three day journey on foot, an hour in one of the four-wheel-drive lorries. The motor vehicles would take the straighter way across the barren desert and straight through the mountain pass, too dry and hot for walking. Yusef wisely chose to travel in the shade of the cliffs in the heat of the day and climb part way over the hills. The path wasn't wide enough for the lorries, so it was unlikely they would chase him from that direction. There were farms there, and a well where he could refill his water skin.

Yusef rested at midday beneath an overhanging cliff, had a slab of naan bread with some cheese, and settled down for a siesta. From here, he could see a little way down the path he had come to make sure no one was following him. He was sure they wouldn't - at least not in a lorry, and on foot, they'd still be far behind - but just the idea kept him from shutting his eyes for the first ten minutes.

Finally, his eyes were heavy enough to counteract his fear, and he drifted off. In his sleep, he heard music, high pitched, almost like whistling, too high to be any musical instrument he knew of. It wafted in and out during his sleep. Thoughts went through his head - pleasant ones, like, Do to others as you'd have them do to you, and, All life is precious.

When his eyes popped open, there was a rat a couple feet away, looking at him.

Yusef looked at the rat. He liked small animals, so he stayed still so as not to frighten it away. He felt unusually at ease now, not like before his nap.

Then, the rat was joined by another, and then another.

One turned to the other and appeared to be saying something in barely audible squeaks.

Huh? Can't be! Rats don't talk to each other.

Yusef decided that he really had to be moving on, and sat up slowly.

The rats didn't scamper away, but still stood there looking at him.

'What do you want?' asked Yusef.

One of the rats chattered in what sounded like human speech, though certainly not in a language Yusef knew.

'If you're talking, I don't understand you.'

He picked up his water skin and took a drink. As soon as he did, the rats suddenly stretched their necks upward in unison, looking at him longingly.

'You thirsty? Here!'

Yusef poured a bit of water into an indentation in the rock. The rats immediately began to drink.

Another rat appeared and also began drinking. This one had some sort of contraption strapped to its back

'What's that on your back?' asked Yusef.

He reached out to touch it, but it suddenly backed away, and the others stood on their hind feet in readiness to act.

'Er - sorry.' Yusef pulled his hand back. The rats resumed drinking.

Yusef stood up, backing away so as not to appear threatening.

'I gotta move on.'

He put his ruck sack on his back and began walking. 'Goodbye rats. I've never met