Chapter 23
"They sleeping? Right, Gre-go?" asked Boots, frowning slightly.
"That's right, Boots," said Gregor, trying to keep his voice steady. "They're sleeping." This was what he always told her when something died. Even if they found a dead bird on the playground, he'd tell her it was asleep and then pick it up with an old newspaper or something and hide it in the trash when she wasn't looking. Later she'd see it was missing and be happy it had flown away to its home. And Gregor would act happy with her. If he couldn't tell her that a pigeon had died, there was no way he could tell her about the mice.
"I know. They take a nap. Like in the song," she said, reassured.
"That's right. Like in the song," said Gregor.
"Ripred. Is there anything we can do?" said Luxa hoarsely. "Please."
"No, Luxa," said Ripred. Gregor thought this was the first time he had ever heard Ripred call her by name. "Nothing can be done for them."
"May I see your glasses, Gregor?" she asked.
Gregor was reluctant to give her the binoculars. It was bad enough from a distance. Magnified, the scene was even more horrific. "They're not really working," he mumbled. But she took the binoculars from his hand and pointed them at the mice.
"So this is it," she said. "This is how they plan to kill them all."
"Without the nibblers resisting," said Ares.
"You may let me go," said Cartesian quietly, and Ares released him. The mouse curled into a ball and buried his face.
"I thought they would starve the nibblers, attempt to drown them perhaps. But this ... this has no precedent," said Nike.
"This has too much precedent," said Ripred grimly. He began lapping away the blood from his shoulder.
"Let me," said Howard. He gave Hazard to Luxa and got out his medical kit. "It is not too deep," he said, examining Ripred's shoulder.
"It's deep enough," said Ripred, shooting a look at Luxa. "I consider my debt paid. My life for your life."
"Yes. Paid in full," said Luxa.
Everyone sat there stunned, watching Howard bandage Ripred's wound. They avoided looking out where the murdered mice lay in the pit.
Gregor could not make sense of what had just happened. He had seen death before, plenty of it. But nothing like this. It was not just the number of dead. When they had fought the ants in the jungle, the ground had been covered in corpses. But that had been a battle, with two armed forces facing each other. It had been horrible, but at least everyone had had a fighting chance to survive. What had happened to the mice ... trapped in the pit... unable to even defend themselves against the gas ... not just soldiers but everyone, even the pups ... it was murder on a grand scale. It was a massacre. And probably only one of many.
Only Boots seemed unaffected by what had just occurred. "Hazard dances with me?" she said, tugging on her friend's hand.
"No, Boots, I cannot," said Hazard.
"I dance myself," said Boots. She began singing as she spun in a circle.
"Dancing in the firelight
See the queen who conquers night.
Gold flows from her, hot and bright.
Father, mother, sister, brother,
Off they go. I do not know
If we will see another. "
Gregor vaguely wondered if he should stop her. It seemed disrespectful to the nibblers. But he could not seem to speak.
Boots turned into a mouse now, pawing the air and spinning here and there.
"Catch the nibblers in a trap. Watch the nibblers spin and snap. "
It was too awful, watching her dancing around like a mouse after what they had just witnessed. With Cartesian lying beside him. "Stop it, Boots," Gregor said, but she was caught up in the song. She curled right up on the ground and pretended to sleep.
"Quiet while they take a nap. "
"Stop it!" repeated Gregor, more harshly than he had intended. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to her feet. Her lips pressed together and he could see tears filling her eyes. Gregor hugged her close to him. "Sorry, I'm sorry. It's just not a good time for dancing," he told her.
"Mouses do dance," she said. "I just do dance like mouses."