In a place far beyond the world of men…

"All Hail the Emperor Elect!" rang every voice in the
great Council hall as those in attendance conferred the title upon a being
known as Theopolis. As ceremonious as the entitling had been, woven in its
threads was the wish, the need, for expediency, urgency.

After the applause died down, Romulous Grillis, Supreme
Councilor, stood. "Emperor Elect," he said, and he let it hang in the
air a moment before he continued. "We have called you back not only to
confirm you as our choice for Emperor, but to tell you of an accident whose
consequences can only be blamed upon Halo."

"I know your need, great councilors. I have full knowledge
of what has been lost, and how. May I speak?"

"It is your right, Emperor Elect."

Theopolis walked the floor, pacing a bit before speaking,
ensuring that all attention was fixed solidly upon him. "We are not to
blame, Councilors!" His voice was strong, resilient. "It is our
concern, yes, for it was our cause. Coming to this chamber, I have been
informed of the nature of your previous session. I am led to introduce the
notion that I am surprised did not rise from among you. If we, by accident,
place tools of good or evil in the cosmos, are not their users to blame or
praise for the actions committed? Are they not the shortsighted ones who
history will recall as weighed and found wanting? On Terter's world, was it
King Pichac who was blamed for the murder of all his Drealords or was it his
'magic sword'? As we all know it was nothing more than a Slazer 2 stolen from
his last diplomatic trip here. If he had the opportunity and a blunt object, he
would have done much the same thing."

"The problem," he said, "may be much less than
you fear or I fear. Inadvertently, we may have done great good by releasing
those stones into the cosmos. I sense that you wish to send me as a kind of
inter-dimensional collections agent, rummaging space and time on a scavenger
hunt for these lost articles." There was considerable discomfort with his
phrasing of that, but, as most reflected during his pause, it was the truth.
"If that is to be my task, I ask this Council's consent on one issue. If
in my decision or your own, a power stone is being used for great good, the
stone may be left with its new owner."

"I would put the restriction, by request, that only the
vice locked stones remain," and older councilor, Palasius, stated.

"I too," the Richardian Emperor stated.

"And I," the Calvonian said.

"Agreed," Theopolis said. "Any other restrictions
or discussion?"

"One thing," Councilor Erton said. Five or ten of his
nearby councils suddenly had a look of anxious expectation as if Erton was
about to verbally attack the would-be Emperor. "These stones may be being
used for good now, but say that in the future someone misuses them. Are we to
allow that? How will we monitor that?"

There was an almost inaudible chuckle from Theopolis as he
raised his cane. "Councilor Erton, bless you! That is just the question
which should be in the minds and hearts of everyone here. As for an answer, I
propose the following. From distant ages past, a practice arose in the Haloan
Monasteries of bringing the youngest up through the supervision of the eldest
and most powerful. Teaching teaches the teacher as well as the student, and,
therefore, this wise practice was continued to this very day. The Reverend
Master was known simply as that, but the student was known by another name:
Teldear!" He brought the cane down to the floor with a powerful crack that
sounded as the lights of the assembly faded to black. A single spotlight shone
upon Theopolis as he raised the staff again to point at the crystal dome above
his head. Three arcs of color, blue, red, and green crossed directly in the sky
above the council chamber. "The rings around this planet in the sky above
us stand for the alliance which our gracious counterparts, the Emperors of the
Richardian and Calvonian Empires, have extended into this new time of peace.
Together, we are the Masters, the Eldest, the most powerful of all the races.
This gives us no right to impose our beliefs or systems of government upon
creatures in this universe or any other. However, as the Eldest, we may be
compelled to guide other cultures, within certain limits, to prevent their own
destruction. With due consideration of what compels us to act, we act, and we
will act consistently."

"Hear, now, the compelling force moving us to act: the idea
that we have accidentally placed tools in the universe that may cause disaster.
My friends, fellow councilors, know that the possibility equally exists that
removing a stone may cause even greater disaster. We have no easy way out of
this dilemma." The lights slowly rose as he continued. "Virtue
dictates, therefore, that if we are to address the issue at all, we must be
prepared to take the role as Master or guide. I sense weakness or shyness in
taking such a responsibility, and indeed the responsibility is great. You have
taken it before; others have taken it before. Every time someone adopts a
child, knowing full well that in this society the child will develop on its
own, he accepts responsibility for guiding that child, seeing to its welfare.
Granted it is true that guiding will affect the child, but the child will still
be an individual with the ability to act and think on its own."

"My answer, Councilor Erton, esteemed members, is that the
stones may be programmed with guidance as to what they must and must not do.
Furthermore, to be a verbal translator of the stone's intent and our
representative, an individual should be appointed to carry the stone."

Romulous nodded, still rolling the idea around in his mind.
"This Teldear then, may not be allowed in the governmental structure of
the group?"

"Case by case, my answer would vary. That is why I put the
ultimate choice at our discretion."

"I would like to suggest," the Calvonian said,
"that we treat such situations of which the Emperor Elect speaks as colony
ventures. Surely it is possible that the stones have fallen into advanced hands
as well as primitive."

There was mixed agreement to this idea that rolled through the
council, but the Supreme Delegate noted the general feeling was assent to the
idea. "Case by case, a decision there, too."

"Of course, Supreme Delegate."

"I propose this in the form of a motion," councilor
Gondis said. "The motion I raise states, 'By the majority of this Council,
we have elected to request the Emperor Elect Theopolis Anarkus Argilis to
accept appointment as Stone Master from the council and retrieve the stones of
power which were lost before the Methaliphian War. In addition, we give him the
power, in consultation with this Council, to allow a stone to stay with its
present holders. If such a holder or the group the holder represents
satisfactorily meets the scrutiny of the Emperor Elect, again in consultation
with the Supreme Council, then that party will be offered permission to keep
their stone and a Colony charter, and all the privileges and responsibilities
entailed therein.'"

"That wording is not only acceptable, reverend
Gondis," Theopolis said, "but eloquent."

"Agreed," answered the Supreme Delegate.
"However, I am somewhat puzzled as to the means by which you expect consultation
to occur."

Gondis responded. "Once a stone is located, at the
commencing of the investigations, all pertinent contact information will be
automatically relayed back via the recall network. Your ship's computers will
relay our agreement or disagreement to you."

"Very well." Grillis looked around the room of
councilors. "Any further discussion? If not, Council please vote upon
Gondis's motion and all addendum heretofore discussed." After a moment,
the outcome was apparent. "The vote is unanimous with no abstentions.
Emperor, we, the council, place our request upon you. Do you accept or
decline?"

"I accept, Supreme Delegate."

With that, he disappeared, already beginning his preparations to
go.

"Farewell, Stone Master," said Romulous Grillis.
"Farewell and good luck."

Envision dark, rich farm soil boiling with the volume of water
that is violently striking it. Feel a strange, inescapable chill in the
wind-driven rain against you, relentlessly pounding a piercing iciness through
your skin. The cacophony as a seemingly infinite number of heavy drops impact
the ground shrouds all other sound. If you were to disagree that this was not
the most intolerable spring nocturne you had ever witnessed, it would at least
be akin to the worst you have ever known.

No more than five minutes ago, one of those incredible
star-strewn prairie nights gave Farmer Fitzgibbons and his wife, Becky, ample
after-dinner diversion and pleasure. Now, cursing against the wind and rain,
the farmer desperately struggled to secure the entry to the barn. The lightning
streaking in the northern sky, his only useful light as he pulled the latch
down against a door turned into a rabid beast by the storm.

His animals now secure, the farmer gladly accepted a towel from
his wife waiting just inside the front door. "I've never seen anything
like it. It's the damnedest storm I've ever seen. If this gets much worse,
we'll have to go in the storm cellar. Did you call the Smith's and see if Billy
was alright?"

"I tried, but all I get is this kind of a dribbling noise
on the phone."

The farmer walked over to the nearby phone, picked it up, and
listened. "I suppose it's the switchboard in town."

"I hope Billy's alright."

"Oh, he'll be fine. I know Bob and Susan will take good
care of him."

"I hope you're right."

The family of the Fitzgibbons was not the only one bearing the
brunt of such a fierce freak of nature. As Angela Brisby, a small, brown mouse
with four children, braced the door as best she could with her bandaged
forepaws, her children cowering in a small group at the foot of the stairs,
screaming as the last crack of thunder faded away. Even the oldest boy, Martin,
was shaken by the roaring all around. "I hope that will be the ..."

The loudest sound she had ever heard shook their house, knocking
her back over the railing into a soft pile of clothes. "Mom! Mom! Are you
hurt!?!?" Martin begged, as the children ran to her.

A strange sound, like a machine, began to filter in through the
almost deafening tempest of driving rain. "No, I'm fine. What's that . . .
noise?"

They all listened to the deep, pulsing sound, like that of a
huge engine, but different, more resonant. As it became clearer, the rain
abruptly dissipated. Like a great bird, it moved over their house and seemed to
sail off into the distance. Fading quickly away into nothingness, whatever it
might have been left them listening to only the sound of a light, sprinkling
shower and water trickling in small runs and puddles.

On the muddy county road in front of the entrance to the
Fitzgibbon's farm, a strange, white vehicle slowly came to a stop in front of
the mail box. The car's engine, now idling, shut down. A tall man, dressed
completely in white, opened the vehicle door, and water, possessed with a
strange energy, crackled and hissed as it fell from the car. He got out, stood,
and opened his hand to feel the last few drops falling from the rapidly
clearing sky. Taking only a second to consider the temperature, he took his
white trench coat off and flung it into the back seat. Reaching back into the
vehicle, he pulled out his white felt hat and wind-breaker and put them on.
From his pocket, he retrieved a cylindrical object embedded with colored lights
and buttons, and looked at it. It had been his father's creation, and it was
now the only tenuous link with the lost stones of his home world. It had been
presented to him by the Supreme Delegate Romulous Grillis moments before his
ship departed. He reached into the car and flicked a switch. As he began to
walk down the road, the door closed, and a low humming sound came from the
vehicle.

"Very inefficient," he surmised looking at the
rain-spattered ground by the side of the road. "Such an old way to travel
time-space, but it is my only choice ... for this sort of work," he
thought as his brow furrowed. He could not keep himself from feeling more than
a little discomfort with the arrogant bureaucrat ages ago who placed those
incredibly dangerous stones in such a tiny anemic craft.

"Discomfort? Strike that," he grumbled to himself as
his brow furrowed. "Outright infuriation." He cornered his
frustrations and began to think again about his mission. "Let us see,
now." He pressed a few buttons on the cylinder and various lights blinked
on and off in sequence. With an air of triumph, he said, "It is here, in
this approximate point in the dimensional time space. At last; I would not
relish a seventh jump to find this trinket. Curious though, this one gives such
a small scalar reading on the axis scale. It must not have been properly
equipped to handle complex ..." He stopped and looked up. "Complex
... now, there is a thought. A simple transference would never have produced
such distortions in physical size. I wonder..."

As he continued to fiddle with the device, a female mouse with
bandaged hands slowly climbed a nearby rock in the farmer's garden. A shrew,
who had adorned herself with the pleasant, familial name of "Auntie
Shrew", followed Angela Brisby up the rock. "Careful now,
child," the shrew warned. "Steady on ..."

"What could have made such a noise?" asked the mouse.
"It was so ... so different. I've never heard anything like that
before."

"I have not the slightest idea," the Shrew said in her
normal, melodramatic tone as she clawed her way up a steep part of the tall,
leaning rock. Mrs. Brisby reached the top first. "Come, come. What do you
see?"

"A man and a ... car, I think."

"What's he doing?"

The light from the farmhouse barely illuminated the stranger.
"I can't see. He looks like he might be one of those scientists who came
to destroy the rosebush."

"Well, if he is, heaven bless him! Ugly, disgusting
rats!" The mouse felt compelled to object to her companion's remark in the
light of all the rats of NIMH had done for her. Sighing, she forgave the
shrew's remark; she knew the shrew had no knowledge of all the rats had done
for the Brisby's. "That's quite an odd car," the shrew said in a
whisper as she joined Mrs. Brisby atop the rock. "I've certainly never
seen one like that before."

"It looks like the door stop on the farmer's porch.
Wedge-shaped." Mrs. Brisby sniffed the air. "That's odd," she
said, "I smell ice ... and fire ... and the smell of electricity.
And," she giggled, "ha ha! It can't be!"

"What is it? Don't just stand there laughing like a ninny,
tell me!" the shrew demanded as she finally stood beside Mrs. Brisby.

"I see Dragon! He's a long way away, but sopping wet. He'll
catch cold for sure." No, she thought as she gazed at the poor creature
demanding entry at the farmhouse door, she must not think that way. Justin, the
new leader of the rats, had told her of Jenner's likely treachery in their last
few moments together after her house had been moved. Even so, it was hard not
to hate the creature who had killed her husband.

"I'd doubt it. That old devil has too much luck, curse his
sorry hide."

The man put the object back in his pocket. "Excellent! It
is twenty miles away, probably less," he thought. "What is
this?" he said to himself as he pulled a beeping, rectangle-shaped box
from his coat pocket and began to read the display. "Life forms, nearby
and watching ... watching me! Directly behind me. Intelligence class three! Not
bad for what should, in at least another universe, be dumb animals." He
slipped the box and cylinder back into his coat and took a thin flashlight from
his shirt pocket. Suddenly wheeling around, he took the two animals completely
by surprise, capturing them in a narrow shaft of bright light. The mouse and
shrew, frozen only momentarily in shock, darted away. They quickly slid off the
rock and ran to Mrs. Brisby's house. The man scratched his forehead, turned off
his flashlight, put it into his pocket, walked back over to his perfectly dry
car and drove toward the farmhouse.

"Do you think he saw us?" the Shrew asked, gasping for
breath.

"He did! He knew exactly where to look," Mrs. Brisby
said panting.

"How could it be?!" the Shrew asked. The mouse just
shrugged her shoulders in response as she tried to catch her breath.

"Now," the man said aloud in his car as he slowly
drove towards the farmhouse, "what did you collect on our two
watchers?"

A deep, electronic voice responded from the instrument panel,
"My scans indicated that both are intelligence class three, as you know.
However, something above class three exists within the area, as well. My
sensors detected four young, class four intelligences in the immediate vicinity
directly below the first two. One of the two on the rock was a shrew. The other
was a field mouse. Sensors also detected translatable linguistic input.
Translation is complete."

"Let me hear it." Theopolis Anarkus Argilis listened
carefully to everything the two creatures said. "Tigershar, my old friend,
I do not know what you think, but I have a peculiar suspicion that this amulet
might be having a severe influence on the creatures in this area. Apparently
our brother councilors were correct in their anxiety over unintentional
interference. What trauma this is going to cause old Grillis in the Supreme
Council! Tiger, set up a detailed scan for intelligence in a 500 mile
radius."

"Drones required: 15. Time of completion: 15 minutes.
Prepared to execute."

"Hold. Additionally, launch the drones in total cloak mode.
I have no wish to explain where I keep 15 flying robots. They would be slightly
out of place in the 1900's on Earth. 15 minutes, you said?"

"Affirmative."

"That should leave me enough time to talk to the owners of
this dwelling and come back. Do you have any information about this world in
this universe?"

"This universe closely parallels reference 192.93A.
Language breakdown, social structure, and suitable cover information now
displayed." Theopolis looked over the information displayed at rapid speed
on the windshield, his mind instantly memorizing the essential details of
language, people, and customs.

Theopolis brought the vehicle to a stop directly in front of the
Fitzgibbon's front porch, and said, "Launch as soon as I get inside. Take
standard precautionary measures as to your own safety."

"Yes, sir."

Theopolis got out of his car. His careful eye spied Mrs.
Fitzgibbons peeking out the upstairs window. Walking towards the door, he was
met by Mr. Fitzgibbons who had also seen him drive up.

"Hello," the young, brown-haired farmer said.
"What can I do for you?"

"Hello, Mister ..."

"Fitzgibbons, Samuel Fitzgibbons."

"Yes. Mr. Fitzgibbons, I am Tom Arkus from the Federal
Bureau of Investigation. I am sorry for intruding so late in the evening, but
if you would not mind, I would greatly appreciate a chance to step inside and
ask you a few questions."

"Ah, well, sure!" the farmer said, stuttering
slightly, awed by the presence of an Agent of the FBI. "Come on in. Becky!
Get some coffee on dear, we have a visitor!"

"Here's my badge in case you're not sure," Theo said
as he entered. In reality, he showed only his open palm, but the force of his
mind projected into that of the farmer the image of the perfect badge.

"Mmm. Looks fine to me."

"Thank you. Quite a storm just now."

"Never seen anything like it before. Becky, come meet Mr.
ah..."

"Arkus."

"That's right! Mr. Arkus of the FBI, all the way from
Washington. Mr. Arkus, I would like for you to meet my wife, Becky."

"Pleased to meet you!" she said.

"Same here. If it is alright with you two, I need to ask
you both some questions." He took out a pad and pencil, which were also
necessary mental creations.

"Have a seat, would you Mr. Arkus?" she asked.

"Thank you," he said as he sat down on the large
couch. "Now, I need to know if any of your animals have been showing any
strange signs of behavior, such as unusually high or low production of sellable
items? Or unexplained fatalities or disappearances among your stock?"

"No, not recently," she said, "everything has
been going normally. The chickens are laying steady, and the cows have been
giving milk on time. No, I can't say as I've noticed anything. But you know,
about a week or two ago a man from...what was it?"

"NIMH," the farmer said.

"That's it. They asked us the same question, if we'd
noticed any strange behavior with the rats around the farm. After awhile, we
noticed them going in and out of the rosebush in the front yard. We called NIMH,
and they told us to have that bush mowed under. They came out, gassed it, and
pulled it up. They dug around like they were looking for something, those rats,
maybe. Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get sidetracked."

"That is a quite alright, Mrs. Fitzgibbons. I am most
interested in what you are talking about. Did they just talk about the rats?
Did they say what was so special about them?"

"They made a side-mention of mice," said the Farmer,
"but didn't mention any other animals. About what was wrong with them,
they didn't want to say anything to us. I guess they were trying to keep
everyone from panicking. I'm not sure, but I thought I heard one of them
telling the other about the rats being 'smart.'"

"Intelligent?"

"Yes. That was the day after my fuel line was cut out in
the garden."

"Your fuel line cut? By what?"

"I don't know, really. I was driving along, normal as you
please, and the tractor just went dead. When I looked at the engine, the line
was all of a sudden cut, clear through!"

"Where exactly, did this happen?"

"As a matter of fact, it happened right in front of the big
stone in the garden: about twelve feet in front of it. I am going to have it
removed next week, the stone, I mean."

"Mr. and Mrs. Fitzgibbons, I need to ask a favor. If it
would be convenient for you, I would appreciate it if you could keep away from
your garden for the next four days. I would like to do an area analysis with a
survey team, and it will take me several days to get the data I need. During
that, I will need as much interference-free time for that field as you can
offer me. Could you do that?"

"I guess it wouldn't be any problem. Do you mean no animals
as well?"

"If you could. No cats, no dogs, no cows, or otherwise. All
we want are the native insects and wild animals that inhabit the area."

"Sure, it means we'll have to keep Dragon in."

"Dragon?" The word brought a smile to Theopolis.

"Yes," the wife said, "our cat. He usually romps
around out in the fields."

"Yes. Now, here is my number. My secretary in Washington
will call you when I have gained authorizations for the use of the survey team.
She will call you again to let you know when we've finished. Also, would you
happen to have that NIMH phone number?"

"I think," the Farmer said as he got up and poked
around in a roll-top desk. "Here it is. Here, you can keep the card. I
don't think we'll have any more use for it."

"Thank you. I must be going," he said and stood.
"I want you to know how much we appreciate your cooperation. If I hear
anything you need to know, my secretary will call. Otherwise, it has been a
pleasure meeting you, sir and ma'am."

They shook hands, and Theo returned to his car and drove away.
He stopped just out of sight of the farmhouse.

"Progress report, Tigershar. How is the
scan coming?"

"77% complete. Initial results show a marked intelligence
increase in certain species, primarily rodentia, in this area and in a
localized area 12.5 miles south of this location. This site coincides with the
determined point of the amulet, provided by Zeos, the library computer. Animals
outside this local area show no difference from standard norm."

"Do you have an amulet response?"

"Negative. Probable cause: size. May I suggest you attempt
to contact the stone."

"Understood." Theopolis concentrated, and his mind
reached out into the darkness. "Now where are you my little nemesis?"

In an underground cave some miles away in a place called Thorn
Valley, the young leader of the rats, Justin, and the old chemist mouse, Mr.
Ages, sat discussing the future of the rats of NIMH. Justin sat on an old,
throne-like chair that had once been the chair of Nicodemus, ancient sage and
previous leader of the rats. "I don't know Ages," Justin said,
"it just doesn't look good. We might have to abandon Thorn Valley after
all. Maybe Jenner was right. Maybe we can only exist by stealing from the
humans. Maybe we should have been less peaceful and better defended. We should
have done something, anything to keep them from killing us and destroying our
home. I'm not sure I have the right answers any more. I can't see a way out of
this. "

Ages was infuriated at such a suggestion. "Now you listen
to me! Every one else looks to you for support, for leadership. Nicodemus
said…"

"We followed his way, Ages, and our home lies in rubble!
Now, this one is falling apart! We are facing starvation …"

In a more understanding tone, the old mouse interrupted,
"and we may face a great deal more. Nevertheless, we did the right thing,
Justin. I believe that, even now. Even after all this has happened. Yes, we
have suffered, and well, died, but it doesn't change the fact what we did was
the only way. Taking from another is wrong."

"Morality is fine, but what if we're all dead. Much good
will it do us then."

"One thing that old codger who was your predecessor taught me was to
have faith that a power beyond what we understand is always working in the
universe. We both know he was no ordinary rat from NIMH. He was special, in
ways I never truly understood. You were Nicodemus's personal choice to take the
reins of command, and you have the amulet! That is why I believe not only in
you, but I have some faith in the future."

Justin took the amulet off his neck and looked at it, "It's
only worked for me the one time, to ward off that stray cat that lived in the
valley. If I only knew how it worked, it has such power. What good is it, if we
can't make this colony work? What..." He stopped. He noticed that the
stone was slowly turning a sort of purple color, instead of its usual glowing
red. "Ages, look!"

Just as Justin was about to show the amulet to Ages, it rose out
of his hands and floated to the middle of the room, its stone now glowing
bright blue. "What's happening? What's it doing?" The air momentarily
chilled around them as the stone slowly turned around, as an eye would, and
looked upon the two creatures staring wide-eyed at the amulet.

The amulet then turned facing the floor, and a blue mist
descended from the stone and cascaded downward. "The time has come at
last, and this lone jewel now touches its ancient kin." The deep, echoing
voice from the stone shocked Ages and Justin.

"Who are you? What's happening?" Justin asked.

"I am the Stone Master. This you now see was brought into
being by my forefathers, this jewel who's power and protection you enjoy is the
craft of my race. I am here, now, seeking it. I have been given the task of
choosing the future of the stone. Now, name yourselves, that I may know
you." In the mist, they could make out a faint outline of face - an mouth,
eyes, and a nose, but they could not tell what type of animal it looked like.

"I am Justin, leader of the rats of Thorn Valley."
That came out far more calmly than Justin thought it would.

"And you?" The mist face turned towards the mouse
whose jaw had dropped open.

"I am Mr. Ages. I'm the doctor, physician … er
whatever." Justin heard the fear in Ages voice as he stuttered out his
response.

"Ages and Justin are now known to me, by name. Justin and
Ages, members of Thorn Valley, I shall visit you, soon. I will come in a form
like your own. Know me by this staff..." A staff appeared in the mist.
It's shaft was smooth white and on top of it sat a clear, crystalline sphere.
"Keep the amulet with you. It will signify my approach by three repeated
flashes of blue." The mist face returned, looking more distinct and harsh.
"It will do no good to hide or bury it, for I am the Stone Master, and I
can always find it again. When you see the jewel signal, bring the leaders of your
race to this chamber, that I might speak with them. I bid you farewell."
As the mist stopped falling, the light in the stone turned red again, and it
floated back onto Justin's neck. Ages and Justin looked at each other not
knowing what to do or say.

(Please note that all characters beyond those described in the movie,
"The Secret of NIMH", are copyright of the author, and may not be
copied or used without express written permission.)