Translation provided by JR/Persuivant

The day began with a rain storm. The raindrops had momentarily visible forms
as they disintegrated on contact with each hard surface...... Destiny had
granted them each but a single second of life, and they enjoyed those tiny
moments in all their fullness.

I had gotten up reluctantly and, to make matters worse, my cheerful
awakener, with its acute and shrill sound, intensified my bad mood.

It was the beginning of another weekend like many others, but with one
difference: This was the weekend that I'd been given permission to complete my
research. The National Instititue of Mental Health (NIMH), where I worked, had
granted me permission to clarify my ideas with respect to an incredible new drug
we had given to our specimens. The preliminary findings had been entirely
positive, and everything appeared to promise extremely exciting results.

I was well-suited to being the young scientist, but the institute to whom I
rendered those services, seeing a quite promising future that would be full of
work for me to do, decided to give me the luxury of a day of rest so that I
could put my work aside and have a life in the world that was passing me by.

The first thing I did to calm my bad mood was to fire-up my computer and
look for the Chat program that a friend at the institute had installed for me,
so I could kill a little time and look for a blind date. I hadn't managed to
find the girlfriend of my dreams so far, but there was nothing to lose in trying.

As it thought through its instructions I felt that within the computer
program about to begin navigating - searching for perhaps some twin soul that
shared my problems, was something that included/understood me.

I began with the main panel, looking for an interesting chat partner, and I
saw all the names to the right of the screen. The names they had went from the
unimaginable to hilarious. People could be very creative when trying to avoid
exposure before a million people - all talking at the same time and speaking
everything but the truth. And by this way I got to know people, who, more or
less, got along with me - never asking for my real name - it always felt more
sincere if they didn't want to know it. I knew a lawyer, a doctor, a teacher of
mathematics, an economist - all ready to tell his own history, his own theories
on life and his experiences - and his own suggestions for getting the girls.

But there were no girls. I believed that they all slept, trying to replace
energies spent the night before.

I think that my nerves were beginning to get the better of my common sense -
to such a point that I started to think one of my chat partners was a girl,
although they disguised it very well. I chose not to find out - to have asked
would have spoiled the surprise.

It flies. Time rapidly flies away, and the bad thing is, one becomes
addicted to Chat. I had not eaten a mouthful in five hours, and the natural
reaction of my suffering stomach was to begin a twisting feeling that would
force me to stop my search for the perfect match.

I was getting ready to leave, already trying to plan what I was going to
eat, when in the lower part of the screen appeared a name that grabbed my
attention: NICODEMUS.

It cried out 'some kind of fanatic or art critic' - but something
indescribable - not a mental force, but a kind of attraction or impulse of
curiosity, made me decide to speak with him.

But what would I find? Not my match, I thought.

I did click twice, as my computer instructed me, and suddenly my monitor went
completely blank.

I started with a simple "Hello" to see if I'd get an answer.

The screen responded almost right away.

"Hello - who is it?"

Now I stopped for a second and considered if I should give my true name or
not. In short, I had talked with many people, and it didn't really matter if
you gave your name or not, and besides, it was all just a charade, a diversion.

"I am called Charlie. Nicodemus can't be your real name, would you tell
me yours.............?"

The reply took me completely by surprise.

"Already knew that you were called Charlie - to be precise, Charlie
Factsmith. You've no idea how hard I've been looking for you, and now I've
finally found you."

"You know my name?" I asked filled with curiosity "You've
been looking for me?"

One assumes that when someone who you've just met for the first time knows
your name they must be police of some kind - or something similar?

"Do I owe something? Who do you work for?"

"No, nothing like that." I felt as if the privacy the game once
offered had vanished.

"You need not be concerned, you can trust me. Now my question is.......
can I trust you?"

How can I trust someone when I don't even know their name? This game was
beginning to make me feel a little uneasy. Also my mind was becoming so confused
as to go blank for a moment. Then a clear recollection - I quickly remembered
news articles about girls who had recently been murdered by the types that use
these kind of programs. It was definitely a good idea to cut this chat short.

"You know? - I'd better speak with you another day. I have things to
do. Look for someone else............. 'Ciao'."

It was then that my right hand, in a quick and nervous movement, clicked on
the screen twice, so that my anonymous companion would disappear.

After this disquieting encounter I shook my head, as if badly wishing to
remove the moment from my mind. I carried on looking in the main panel, but in
the lower part a shape appeared automatically - coloured in a vivid display of
red, the self-same name: NICODEMUS.

I made it disappear again, but it didn't stay gone. And it carried on that
way, reappearing with great insistence, and I in turn erasing it. This lasted
for some seconds.

The situation was already beginning to give me a nervous cold sweat. My
breathing got faster as adrenaline began to flow through my body like an
injection of ice water in my veins. I tried to calm myself with deep breaths
and, with an automatic reflex, exited the program, to see if I could end this
nightmare that way.

When I thought that everything was over I began to close the connection -
and with it, now that I no longer had any wish to use it, the active Chat
program. At this time NICODEMUS was still my only option of conversation.

I was still ice-cold. My hands didn't touch the keyboard and I was beginning
to think how all of this would make a great movie. Maybe there was a book in
the library about this kind of thing. Fear was eating away at the entrails of
my nervous, turning stomach and my eyes had become so dilated as to have become
borderless. I tried to convince myself that none of this was happening. I
brought my hands to my face in a gesture of astonishment, and then after
checking I was in my own house and not somewhere else, made the mistake of
accepting the conversation. I knew that the right thing to do was to call the
police, but in this case - when someone could be watching me from anywhere, or
looking out from the floor above or below for movements outside - it would have
been a very bad idea.

"Charlie, please pardon my insistence. Relax, I don't mean any harm. I
know its wrong to pressure you this way, but don't worry. I only want to speak
with you on a matter not only of interest to us, but also to you. Stay at your
screen."

"Very well, I'll stay, you can trust me. Now, if you want to speak with
me that's OK, but I must know your name before we can go on."

There was a silence that, in my state of anxiety, seemed to go on forever.

"You're right, forgive my lack of manners. "My name is
Justin.......... and I am a rat"

My outburst of laughter almost made me fall out of my chair. It was like a
release mechanism. "Just what I needed" I thought - "a
psychotic, a lunatic with an identity crisis that's become an animal or
something. I had to end this nightmare right now."

I turned on him with my reply.

"Listen 'Jus' or whoever you are, if you're trying to make a sick joke
you've succeeded. I'm loving it. You asked me to be open and trustworthy. I
have been. If you're not going to be with me then I swear you'll be sorry when
I call the police and they drag you............"

"No, no really - I AM a rat. Charlie, you must believe me. You made me.
What I'm saying to you I say in all seriousness. It is not a joke."

I knew the answer wasn't true, but what was it he had to say? Who was I
really speaking with? I felt like I had entered an unknown area, then had a
gigantic door slammed unexpectedly behind be, making me feel the reverberations
of the echo - giving the feeling that I could no longer turn back, and must
follow on ahead. It was not a wise thing to do - this could be someone very
dangerous. Again my pulse began to race, and I was again gripped with fear. I
knew without a doubt that I should shut down the computer.

There was again a silence that seemed to create an endless void.

"Charlie - are you there?......... say something, please."

I couldn't do it.

"Charlie! I beg you not to leave!!............."

Without being concious of it, my movement became static. The only thing I
had to do was stretch a finger and press a button and it would be over. But
something or someone other than 'Charlie' seemed to mentally give me the
command: 'you will not turn off the computer. I must show you something right
now............'

I saw my appointment diary, a personal photo of mine, and all my data, as if
someone had meticulously investigated my whole life. The data included my years
at university and my time working at NIMH. I was left bemused. This person
really knew me. My hands were tied. I couldn't think what he could want to ask
- he already knew everything.

"OK - you win. I can see you know who I am. I commend your
investigation - you've accounted for the smallest detail. Tell me what you want
so we can get this over with......... Whatever you want."

"Nothing material, I just want a favour."

"What favour could I do? That answer doesn't make sense. You know that
nobody does something for nothing. The situation doesn't make sense either -
supposing you really were a rat, how could you possibly write with a
computer?"

"Because I've adapted it so that it works by my voice. That sounds a
little strange, but that's 'about the size of it'."

This was definitely unbelievable. A computer activated by a 'rat'. I decided
to continue investigating so see where my curiosity would lead, although I
might not like what I was going to find.

"And how could you have adapted it? This I know - rats don't have
enough grey matter to read, let alone build a computer............" This
question would prove the lie. It was time to stop talking, call the police,
track it down and look it up - and to erase this terrible experience from my
memory once and for all.

"You are mistaken, we rats do have intelligence. As a scientist you
must know that, but a rat's intelligence is mainly limited to instinct. Now if
you inject them with a fluid that stimulates the brain and changes the organism
you'd be surprised what they can do. In this case it allows us to enjoy a
language that permits us both to communicate."

"Very interesting - you have a very active imagination Justin, but I
really don't believe you. You won't convince me this way - I'm just displaying
my natural scientists' scepticism, the first rule of which is never to
recognise anything but absolute truths - do you have any to tell me?"

Another silence. "This is where the story collapses" I said.

"OK. I think you win that one. My comrades and I studied computers and
decided to prove our theories. To that end we joined together computer pieces
gathered from different locations until we managed to construct a surprising
model that is activated by voice, because obviously keyboards our size do not
exist."

This was just what I needed, one or maybe a whole filthy band of
malcontents, a gang without an identity - until they perhaps became communists.
I knew it was a bad idea, but I was going to get to the bottom of all this.

"What remains unacceptable to me is how a group of rodents like you
(supposing that is true) can read and construct an apparatus of such
magnitude?"

"OK Charlie - perhaps you can answer your own question. Recall a NIMH
experiment you took part in many years ago, kept secret ever since, on a group
of rats and mice that were injected with a drug that, once its effects were
discovered, was destroyed and with it all the related records, ensuring no
evidence remained."

"Wait, Jus, where did you get this idea? That there were some * special
* drug injections? Everything at NIMH is well-ordered. The drugs are developed,
are injected into a number of laboratory mice and rats, properly sterilized and
taken care of, and never once have any of them shown any abnormal
reactions.......... besides, if there had been any unusual results the samples
would have been calmly handled by experts to establish in detail any reasons
for the abnormality, and properly treated to avoid later contamination." I
wanted him to know that my work was first-rate.

"Charlie, just tell me one single thing: What do you do when a
laboratory *sample* is infected?"

"It is only properly treated, as I already told you" I said. I
didn't understand the question. I'd never felt it necessary explain the
procedure to a layman before.

"The don't make it disappear?"

"Is that what you're accusing me of? I know the question you're really
asking, even if isn't the one you asked."

"You know very well what I'm talking about, Charlie. When a specimen
provides contaminated samples they put it in quarantine until they discover the
reason for the contamination, and if they do not find a remedy they incinerate
it. Sure, after sucking out all of his blood so they'll have enough to research
the cure." His words sounded very assured, as if they came from
experience, although the way they came out was quite crude and sarcastic. I
expected an answer, but not that one.

"OK, if everything you're saying to me is certain, what's your point
Jus? It's something that involves you, but what does it have to do with
me?" - The one single question that would solve this riddle.

"Very well Charlie, I'll be direct: I, personally, descended from the
generation that NIMH used in an experiment which utilized mice and street rats
to prove the effects of a drug that could be used to regenerate neurons lost by
human beings as they develop, and to summarize, it was used on my mother when
she was pregnant. She gave birth contaminated with a lethal solution. With a
contamination unknown and undiagnosed the specimens were put in quarantine and
exterminated - your people *disappeared* them. While they were unaware of what
was happening our group began to transform into a society of hyper-intelligent
rats, able to do everything that the humans take for granted: to read, to
speak, to think, to pass judgments and laws. We also inherited the bad
qualities too, such as envy, wrath, ambition, and treason, among others, and these
qualities were used by one of our members to kill our great leader, Nicodemus,
in order to inherit his supreme position. You know of him because it was his
name I used. Obviously the scientists were unaware of the results of their
experiments until it was too late, as we were able to escape. Regrettably,
although the rats all survived, of the mice there were only two who were able
to avoid being swallowed by the ventilation shaft. And by your side we built
our kingdom. Now, if you do not believe this story of how you created me I
invite you to investigate it."

"Your history is very interesting, Jus. But I really cannot conceive of
how rats would be able to think so well. As for your companions, I am a
scientist and cannot accept the facts at face value. Supposing your history is
real, how come you were not contaminated along with your mother?" - I was
a little uncomfortable asking this question, but I decided to all the same.

"Because the effect of the drug was such that it changed her
metabolism, and logically, also affected mine, lowering the natural defenses of
myself and my brother, making us become susceptible to all kinds of infection.
Unfortunately they separated us from our mother, placing her in a cage with the
others who'd been given the solution. Through that small act of negligence the
contaminated children of the rats escaped being *disappeared*, but were now in
considerable danger. Happily my brother and I were taken care of by another
rat. For reasons no-one could explain, after the death of our mother our
metabolism began to react to infections and create new antibodies. That is to
say, we became immune. Believe me, Charlie, I do not harbour any resentment
towards those who did this to my mother because I have learned to forgive. Even
so, if I did not need your help so much I would have approached some other
ordinary person instead. My history is very sad, as you shall discover."

Inside I did feel great sorrow. If this had really happened - had happened
to me, I do not think that I could have forgiven so easily. I would want
vengeance on not only one ruthless form, but against all the authors of similar
atrocities. Humans compare themselves with animals in may ways, but I think
that the winners will always be those who's behaviour is worthy of imitation
rather than those who act on their instincts.

"Justin, I just want to say........ I'm very sorry for what happened to
your mother."

I tried to make my words sound right, but I was bad at situations like
these.

"You must must have gone through a very difficult time, although I see
that you overcame it, but I still have difficulty believing you are a thinking
rat, and also you have not explained to me why you need my help. To be honest,
all of this has done nothing to take away the confusion."

"Charlie, I'm going to tell you something - if you really want to know
about us. I'm going to leave a journal with you that has in it the file and
code numbers with which they identified us during the days of our captivity.
You can use these as a reference for your investigations and to discover if you
really want to help me - or if you want to follow another course." Already
I was beginning to become involved in this experience. I would have to choose
the right time to go into the archives and a dose of risk-taking and cleverness
would be required - qualities I already possessed which enabled me to conduct
my experiments. I would find out if these things existed, if I should help
Justin, and would bring an end to it all. This would stand out as my greatest
investigation - into the construction of an entire species of intelligent rats,
and the book would tell me how it was done.

"Justin, I'm going to propose a course of action: Give your journal to
me and I'll investigate and try to find the experiment of which you are the
product, and I'll help you, regardless of whether you're a rat or not, although
I'm worried about where your request for help is going to lead. I'd speak to
you again outside working hours."

I prepared myself for the reply.

"Ah Ah! Charlie, you must be present. I will not leave the journal
where it can easily be taken. You must be very careful which people get near
it. The journal that I'm going to give you is quite attractive, has a dark
coffee-coloured leather cover, sheets of paper with gilded edges and would
easily fit in the palm of your hand. Anyone could mistake it for an antique,
which would be worth a lot of money. I must ask that you are careful and that
you will guard it with your life if necessary because this journal is the unique
document of our existance."

I felt like Jim Phelps when an Impossible Mission was assigned to him. The
only thing missing was the famous phrase 'this recording will self-destruct in
five seconds". My body began to sweat a wonderful substance, as if I were
playing a boyish prank, and I loved it.

"The place will be the park, at the infants' horse ride. On the other
side of the main street there is a yellow pony with a red seat. Diagonally to
that, about a hundred metres away, is a trashcan with the inscription 'We want
a clean city, and we hope you'll help us', and to its side is a drinking
fountain. The journal is beneath the trash can. Make sure you watch the time so
you get there before the trashcans are emptied."

All of the conversation was being recorded and when it was finished was
placed in the computer's protected memory, in case anything bad happened.
"Very well Justin I have all that, but you haven't mentioned the hour of
our encounter - and its raining, you can't leave an important book in driving
thunder and rain".

"Ah yes! I forgot........... the............." - a light vibration
in the computer screen made the letters dance into an incoherent form -
"..////.o'.// .... cl..//..o...///....ck....." - the vibrations that
followed became more and more familiar -
"../////.........next...//......to..../////....../.....t...h...e /"
And then suddenly my department was without light and the screen extinguished
before my eyes. While outside there was a frightening thunderclap, to me the
fear was replaced by dark desperate seconds. The computer started up again, and
went through its brief routine memory checks and control programs. Although
brief, they took long enough. I tried to relocate Justin, but it was
impossible. He had already gone.

I found myself so absolutely irritated with everything that existed around
me that I was filled with the urge to break something, but the best thing to
do, I decided, was to prepare a little food and to taste the adventure that had
appeared on this rainy day - the opportunity to find out about the secret
experiments conducted by the institute to which I belonged. I could see this
being a true challenge.