“Arcathon? What in the name of the Roquefort Rocker” (er, sorry, Rocquefort’s a cheese… so you can guess who’s talking… ) “What in the NAME of the Rocquefort Rocker is Arcathon?”
To be fair to Mr Mouse, he was having trouble trying to keep up.
For him it was like one of those classes where your teacher’s doing something DIFFICULT on the white board, and you miss a bit, and you’re not sure whether you need to know that bit to do the next bit, and you don’t know whether to put your hand up and up and go “Er… miss… ” or “Er… sir… ” and it’s all so DIFFICULT…
We’ve all been there and had that happen to us. Me, lots of times!
“Sounds like one of those extra strong toilet cleaners!”
Oh NO, he WOULD go and say something like that!
Carvelia turned towards Mr Mouse, her face still all worried because of what she’d seen. But she managed a smile – it’s always hard not to smile when Mr Mouse is carrying on like that – and pointed to a dull golden disc on the end of the chain that Mr Fruity had taken out of his pocket.
It was quite small – not much bigger than a 2p piece - but somehow you couldn’t take your eyes away from it.
As you looked at it, it seemed to glow. And suddenly, without anyone touching it, it flipped right over.
Mr Fruity jumped. “Dratted thing!” he said. “Kept doing that in my pocket! Thought I’d got fleas!”
Wizzie growled, his brown eyes fixed on Mr Fruity. “Yeah, right, as if you haven’t!”
Carvelia took a deep breath. “That” she said to Dot, ignoring the cyber rat king and all the other rats, who’d fallen completely silent but who were still pressed together in a kind of wall, blocking them all off at the end of their lair: “THAT is Arcathon. It is the key to the Casement we guard in Phargon. Unless both I and Thoranon hold Arcathon together, and press it on the centre of the Casement of Phargon, the window that lets information in for all the Zildiths – unless we do that, NOTHING can enter Phargon. And so our knowledge is safe. It lives in a special place, just below the Casement. And now it is here, in the hands of our worst enemies…” She shook her head. “Why – we do not know. But without it… ” she took a deep breath “We have no power! We are helpless!”
Suddenly her eyes blazed with anger, and she took a step towards Mr Fruity, as if she wanted to hit him.
“WHERE did you get Arcathon you… you THIEF!” she shouted. “You VANDAL! HOW did you take Arcathon?”
Mr Fruity pulled the long chain towards him, staring straight at Carvelia and Thoranon. An evil grin spread over his ratty face, and his whiskers quivered. Then he started to twirl the chain round one of his claws – round and round and round, till there was no chain left and the dull gold medallion was hanging down, gleaming and swinging to and fro.
He let out a really long, horrible belch, “BARRP-RARRPP-BARRPBARPP!” he went. Disgusting!
All the cyber rats gathered round roared with laughter of course. It was their idea of a big joke. Pa-thetic!
Then Mr Fruity nodded towards Drindel – still stuck in his horrible cling-film.
“From him!” he said. “Ask him!”
Thoranon gasped. “You didn’t!” he said. “O Day of 23, please tell us you didn’t!”
Drindel shook his head, as if he was trying to remember. Then he looked up, his eyes full of sadness.
“I just… ” he said. “I just borrowed Arcathon, that was all” he whispered. “I needed to help… to rebuild a key programme in a firewall. I needed to bring him in, to save him. I was outside Phargon… I knew it was against all the rules… but he was so damaged, and I couldn’t help him… unless I took him to my Day Place, my workshop inside Phargon. Only Arcathon could let us both in. It was only for a few minutes… I didn’t know - ”
“Didn’t know we were waiting to catch you!” sniggered Mr Fruity. “So
we had you – and your little friend, too! And NOW” he swung round “We’ve got you - all of you! And next we’ll have Phargon! CYBER RATS RULE! CYBER RATS RULE!”
“CYBER RATS RULE! CYBER RATS RULE!” all the rats shouted, punching the air, high-fiving, hugging each other, revving their cyber bikes.
The noise was DEAFENING! Dot could hardly hear herself think. But she knew one thing - they were trapped – trapped in the cyber rats’ lair! Even the Children of the Casement were powerless, with Arcathon in the greasy hands of Mr Fruity!
WHAT were they going to do!
But then – close by –
“Psssssssssst!”
