The Island of Whispers (5 page)

It was a
Sunday, the last day of September. The estuary was quiet. Passing
trains still rushed through the calm, but the intervals between
their intrusions were longer. On the bridge, the intense activity
of the past week had dwindled to a handful of strolling maintenance
men, their orange helmets bobbing just above the fretwork of the
central parapet. Around midday, the wind dropped to a gentle
whisper, pale blue sky peeked from gaps between the clouds, and the
sun appeared overhead, tentatively at first, and then strong and
dominating, as if making a last, defiant stand against the
encroaching chill of autumn.

As its
brightness grew, the sun seemed to invigorate the landscape,
transforming the immobile grey sea into sheets of dancing,
glistening ripples; bringing a new sheen to the dull paintwork of
the rail bridge; re-discovering and enriching the yellows and
greens of the fields and woods on either side of the river.
Sunshine also spread over the little island in the lee of the
imposing bridge, penetrating the gloomy interior of the monastery,
where Fat One slumbered among the debris, and glancing off the
backs of Twisted Foot and Long Ears, who crouched on the high
ground like twin, ridged boulders.

Twisted Foot
welcomed the warmth on his back; it made the waiting easier. For
the first time since the killing, he looked away from the
corpse-strewn roof. The stillness of the scene below had been
disturbed only once, when a lone gull had alighted briefly to gloat
over the contorted bodies of its foes. As it flew off, the cries
uttered by the bird had been mocking and contemptuous.

Twisted Foot’s
gaze swept over the shimmering sea and took in the newly brightened
shoreline to the north. Somehow, the shore seemed closer than
before. Behind it, trees, fields, hills: all had become more
distinct. Were there societies like his one over there? he asked
himself. Societies which lived underground and hunted above?
Societies constantly under threat from the Two-Legs? Societies with
Watchers and Hunters and Protectors, and fearsome Rulers like Long
Snout? He remembered how the Chamberlain had looked the night
before: awesome, angry, spitting out orders. He remembered his own
feelings of smallness and insignificance. But Long Snout’s harsh
ways had brought success, he admitted. Thanks to Long Snout, the
Two-Legs had left, satisfied; the Dark World remained undiscovered.
Discipline and vigilance had been observed. Discipline and
vigilance ruled their lives.

The Watcher’s
thoughts returned to the adjacent shore. He wondered if the
societies there were ruled with the same harshness. Perhaps not.
Perhaps the menace of the Two-Legs was less. He sensed space,
openness, distance from the Two-Legs, food in plenty. Perhaps
...

‘
Perhaps there is a better life over there,’ said the soft
voice close to him.

Startled,
Twisted Foot looked quickly at his companion. It was as if Long
Ears had crept into his mind and listened to his inner thoughts. He
felt uneasy, insecure.

‘
I – I don’t know,’ he stammered at length.

For the
remainder of the watch, Twisted Foot focused his gaze on the
terrain below, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the land
across the estuary.

–
o –

–
Chapter Ten –

It was Narrow
Back who brought the news to the underworld. Breathless, his tongue
hanging sideways from an open mouth, he came scampering through the
Watchers’ lair in search of Sharp Claws.

‘
The giant!’ he cried, his eyes wide with excitement. ‘The
giant is awake!’

Sharp Claws
rose from his nest. He had woken immediately from a sound sleep.
Despite his age, he looked bright and alert.

‘
What is it, Watcher?’ he asked.

Narrow Back
scurried back and forward, impatient, agitated. ‘The giant,’ he
repeated. ‘The giant in the water,’ he expanded, as if the
elaboration told everything.

‘
What about it?’ Sharp Claws said quietly. Narrow Back was
easily aroused, not noted for his calm and intelligent
thinking.

The Watcher’s
thin body shook with impatience. ‘The giant awakes!’ he exclaimed.
‘It – it glows brightly! It grows larger! Come! Hurry!’ The words
gushed out in a torrent of excitement.

Not waiting
for a response, his tongue still lolling wildly, Narrow Back rushed
out of the lair. With a sigh, Sharp Claws followed briskly behind
him.

Exhausted
after a third daylight vigil, Twisted Foot peered drowsily at the
departing figure of the Chief Watcher. He shifted slightly in the
nest, careful not to disturb the young she-rat who pressed close to
him, still fast asleep. Others in the lair were also peeking out
from their nests. Some had already forsaken the warmth to confer in
soft murmurs on the floor of the lair. Like them, Twisted Foot
found it difficult to put any shape or substance to the cause of
Narrow Back’s agitation. Together with Long Ears and Fat One, he
had returned to the underworld in the early evening, leaving the
skinny Watcher to take up the night post at the monastery. That was
some time ago. It would be dark up there now. The hunting pack and
its Watchers would be about their work.

Twisted Foot
yawned, dismissing the notion of joining the huddle on the floor.
He was very tired. It had been another long day on the high ground.
The rat-catcher had come back with his strangely coloured
Four-Legs. He had been pleased with his examination of the traps
and his search of the gun emplacement’s interior. Long Snout had
also been pleased: smug was perhaps a better description. He had
decreed that the Hunters should venture above ground again after an
absence of two nights. Until Narrow Back’s noisy entrance, it
seemed that life – above and below ground – had returned to
normal.

Twisted Foot
yawned again. Whatever had upset Narrow Back would be explained
soon enough, he decided. He burrowed his muzzle into the she-rat’s
warm, soft belly. Soon, the rhythmic breathing of Watcher and mate
was as one.

‘
Look sharp, Watchers!’ The cry came like a crash of thunder in
the stillness of the lair.

Immediately,
bodies spilled from the nests, heading quickly for the tunnel
opening. Sharp Claws squatted there, grim-faced, blocking their
progress. The two Watchers who had accompanied the hunting pack
were on either side of him, their expressions equally grim.

‘
Hold!’ Sharp Claws roared. ‘There will be no Assembly yet! But
gather close to me, I have much news for you.’

He moved into
the centre of the lair, allowing the crowd to form round him. Even
Small Face, still weak after his encounter with the slave-rats,
left his nest to join the she-rats and youngsters at the back of
the crowd. Excited murmurs filled the lair.

Sharp Claws
rose up on his hindquarters until his full height towered over the
audience.

‘
Quiet!’ he commanded. The buzz ceased abruptly.

‘
Comrades,’ the old Watcher began, ‘a grave event has taken
place on the world above, an event which threatens the existence of
our society.’ He paused, giving the audience time to grasp the full
weight of his words. He looked suddenly tired and
sorrowful.

‘
For many days, we have watched the Two-Legs busy themselves on
the giant which looks down on our world. The purpose of their
activity is now known to us. Lit by countless fires along the
length of its great body, the giant began to glow in the darkness.
After a while, its brightness filled the sky, turning the darkness
of our world into light. Such was the brightness that every rock,
every stone, every piece of ground glowed like the giant. The
Hunters and the brave Watchers with them were forced to conceal
themselves. The white birds were also startled by the brightness,
and many of them flew from their roosts. Even when darkness
returned to the giant a short time ago, the few remaining birds
proved too restless for the Hunters to make their
kills.’

Sharp Claws’
expression grew grim again.

‘
Comrades,’ he continued, ‘we do not know why the Two-Legs
caused this evil. We do not know if they will cause it again. We
fear that they will. At this moment, the elders of the Inner Circle
are considering what steps should be taken to protect our society
from this grave threat. The Assembly will be called when they have
decided. Remain in the lair until that time.’

Long after
Sharp Claws had departed to await the emergence of the elders, many
of the Watchers remained huddled together, discussing the news and
its implications. At their centre was Narrow Back, who had
returned, still wide-eyed, from the night watch to tell and re-tell
the story of the awakening giant. The story grew more elaborate
with each re-telling.

‘
There was another strange event up there,’ Narrow Back
mentioned at one point. He paused for effect, scanning the faces of
his companions.

‘
It was some time after Sharp Claws left me to report to the
Chamberlain. I decided to creep down to the place where the rocks
narrow and reach out to the water. You know the place I mean. I
wanted to take a closer look at the giant’s fires, you see. As I
got nearer, though, I could see that a familiar figure had reached
the place before me.’

He stopped
again, this time waiting for a response.

‘
Get on with it, Narrow Back!’ boomed Fat One. ‘Tell us who you
saw.’

‘
It was Broken Tail,’ he whispered. ‘The Chief
Protector.’

There were
looks of puzzlement among the audience.

‘
The thing is, you see,’ he continued rapidly, ‘the mystery is,
I – I don’t know where he came from. I’m sure – absolutely certain
– that he didn’t come up the tunnel. Then he disappeared, just
vanished.’

There were
further looks of puzzlement.

‘
A mystery,’ said Narrow Back. ‘A real mystery.’

Something – a
faint memory, a blurred image – nudged Twisted Foot’s thoughts. He
tried hard, but the image wouldn’t focus.

–
o –

–
Chapter Eleven –

The tremors
travelled down from the high ground, spreading through the
underworld and causing dust to fall from the roof of the Common
lair. The occupants of the other lairs became still: a thousand
pairs of slit eyes looked upwards. A faint rumble came in the wake
of the tremors. The disturbance stopped briefly and then began
again, the tremors renewed, stronger, the distant whirr grown to a
deep whine. Youngsters abandoned their games, rushing back to their
mothers’ sides. Protectors at the pool looked up, startled, from
their lapping. Hordes of Scavengers surged towards the tunnel of
their lair, panic in their actions. In the lair of the Inner
Circle, the elders broke off from their debate, fear in their eyes.
Long Snout seethed with anger. ‘Two-Legs!’ He spat out the
word.

On the world
above, the two brightly clad young men had returned to complete
their business. They occupied the crest of the island, now
confident that the threat of rats had been eradicated. The heavy
drill operated by one of them bit through the rock with a jarring
screech, a rush of dust and sparks marking its path. The other man
hammered metal tubes into the holes made by the drill. Soon, a
shiny frame began to take shape.

In the course
of the men’s work, more visitors arrived on the island. One of them
installed an electrical circuit, while the others unloaded about a
dozen large cartons and then proceeded to fill the upright tubes
with the contents of the cartons. Their final tasks were to seal
the tubes and to cover and secure the frame with sheets of strong
polythene.

The time taken
to erect and prime the contraption lasted four hours. By
mid-afternoon, all of the visitors had gone from the island.

The Assembly
was called at long last. He-rats streamed into the Common lair.
Many were shocked and jittery, the continual pounding from above
having taken its toll. The Protectors outside the Scavengers’ lair
rested uneasily after prolonged efforts to keep the rioting slaves
at bay. As they stepped up to the platform, the members of the
Inner Circle also looked uneasy. This would be no ordinary
Assembly. There would be no stirring words to fortify the hearts of
the Outer Circle; no great feast of bird flesh ahead for the
bellies of the Rulers.

Long Snout
dominated the centre of the platform, as cold and grave as
ever.

‘
Comrades of the Secret World!’ he began solemnly: there had
been no need to call for silence. ‘These latest intrusions by the
Two-Legs have confirmed our worst fears. The threat is upon us. For
the first time in many Cycles, our society faces discovery.
Remember, comrades, with discovery comes destruction. But discovery
may yet be avoided if we are careful, if we are more vigilant and
disciplined.’

The
Chamberlain scoured the tense faces below him.

‘
Yes, comrades, harsh measures will be needed to preserve our
secrecy.’

He turned to
his left and then to his right, each time regarding the Rulers who
crouched close to him. Some were older and more gnarled than Long
Snout himself. Finally, he swivelled round to look directly at
White Muzzle.

‘
The King-rat and the elders have decided what measures will be
taken,’ he announced, turning back to the Outer Circle. ‘As of this
day, the Cold Cycle will begin! The hunting packs will cease!
Mating may commence!’

A faint murmur
rose up from his audience. Many in the Outer Circle relaxed
visibly.