Mrs. Frisby scurried about her house frantically in search of her dear
teapot. Where had she left it? The teapot was given to her by her late husband
on their wedding day, therefore it was greatly treasured. She searched around,
seeking it's short, white stout body, and the little nick along the bottom of
it.

"Teresa, Martin! Cynthia, Timothy! Come here, please!" she
shouted. Her small voice became much more at that moment, for it nearly made
the water in all the glasses on the table vibrate. Without delay, the four
children came running. They knew that their mom, Sara, meant business.

"Have any of you seen my teapot- the one your father gave to me?"
she asked. "I have searched high and low for it, and I am beginning to get
a little worried about it." All of the children shook their heads no,
except for little Cynthia. "Okay," Sara Frisby said, unsure,
"You may go, but you, Cynthia, shall stay behind."

The three children ran off, back to playing, while little Cynthia (who was
the youngest) stayed behind. "Cynthia," Mrs. Frisby said, sternly,
"I didn't see you shake your head. Do you know where I might find my
teapot?"

Little Cynthia was slightly short and chubby, with light tan fur, just like
her father. Her big blue eyes (which she had gotten from her mother) looked
dreamily up at Sara, deep in thought. Mrs. Frisby knew this expression better
than most. It usually meant two things: the child was trying to think of a way
out or a lie, or it meant that something dreadful happened, and they didn't
want to admit to it.

"Well," Sara continued, "Let's have it."

"I didn't mean to.. I needed something for my party, and.. well…"
Her voice trailed off. "Come on, Cynthia, from the top." Mrs. Frisby
said with an impatient sigh.

"I was playing with my dolly.." explained Cynthia, "and I
didn't have anything but a few rocks and plates for my tea-party. I needed to
have something to put my tea in, so I thought I'd borrow yours. I thought that
I could have it back on the stove before you got home." (Cynthia fidgeted
with her tail in nervousness) "You were at Mr. Ages’, and I needed it.
Well, I sat it down on my little table, and I saw a butterfly. I chased it. I
was having great fun, but I wasn't watching out for where I was going, and I
tripped. I knocked the teapot over, onto the ground. When I picked it up, it
wasn't badly broken, just a little nick on the handle, but it had a big crack
down the side. I thought I could fix it myself, but I forgot about it."

"Where is it now?" asked Mrs. Frisby.

"Oh, it's under my bed. I thought it would be safe there.. and it was.
No one found it there.

Mrs. Frisby looked down at Cynthia in disappointment. She got up, and looked
under Cynthia's bed. The teapot was there. Cynthia was right, it was not badly
broken, thank goodness, but still, Cynthia had not only taken something that
did not belong to her, she lied, and that was bad enough.

"Cynthia," Mrs. Frisby said, "You know what you did was
wrong, right? I am very disappointed in you. You should have asked me if you
could borrow it, and even if you hadn't, you should not have lied to me. I
dislike that greatly. Hmmmm…" (She thought) "What shall be your
punishment? I do believe that a good long day in the house should do the trick.
No playing outdoors, and you must come with me to Mr. Ages' house when I go to
have it fixed. And as for now, you need to go and tell the others what you have
done. I hope you will ask me from now on.."

Cynthia started to walk off, in acceptance to her punishment. Mrs. Frisby
raised her voice. "And remember never to lie to someone..
ever…unless.."

But Cynthia was gone. Mrs. Frisby sighed, and leaned back into her chair
beside the table. She drifted off into deep thought:

Teresa: She was the oldest, and very well the tallest. She too had light tan
fur, soft to the very touch. In her hair she always wore a pastel pink bow, and
she wore a light blue dress, and a thin, short-sleeved shirt beneath it. She
was growing a lot, and was beginning to outgrow the dress, which reminded Mrs.
Frisby to find some new material. Teresa had big brown eyes, just like her
father, and her height from her father, as well.

Martin was the second eldest, and tall, too. He had brown eyes (with a
slight hint of gold) and dark brown fur, like Sara. He was easily the
strongest, with bulging muscles that have greatly grown over the years. He wore
a blue T-shirt, and could get as mean as a wasp (when he was aggravated). His
fur was rough with a few strands of white that blended in with the deep brown.

Cynthia, the youngest had light tan fur and blue eyes, and was a bit on the
chubby side (She had grown chubbier over the past few months).Unlike her other
siblings, she had no actual talents, whereas Teresa was quite a seamstress, and
Martin a strong, brave mouse. Cynthia was often considered "slow" on
account of her being so forgetful. Often she was clumsy (as you have seen) but
she was always determined to do her best at her studies, and other such things.
Her will was as strong as strength itself.

Timothy. He came after Martin in age, and was most definitely the scrawniest
in the household. He had fur like Martin, except a little lighter. He was tall,
and so thin you could see every one of his ribs (no matter how much he ate, he
could never overcome his thinness). And most of all, he was the smartest.
Though in his studies, he was a few "grades" behind Martin and
Teresa, he could easily explain any of their problems of work to them. He was
actually the only one in the house who could tolerate Cynthia, and her
"scatter-brainness". He always helped her out of scrapes, and helped
her find misplaced items. He always tutored her on her studies, and was always
willing to do something for her. He was weak in physical strength, but not in
mind strength.

"Mom…. Mom!" Mrs. Frisby's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden
outburst from Timothy. When she came to, she cleared her throat and answered
him.

"Yes, Dear?"

"I want to ask you a few questions. I've been thinking, and I was
wondering if you ever thought about Justin?"

This question surprised Mrs. Frisby not only by what it was, but from whom
it came from. Again she cleared her throat and answered him. "Why yes
dear, I do."

"Why?" Timothy asked.

"Because if it weren't for him, you would be dead, and maybe the rest
of us. He was the one who said that it was alright to move our house. In fact,
he didn't have to even speak to me if he did not want to be of some type of
service. Our family, in my opinion, owes their life to Justin."

Timothy looked up at his mother as if she did have a very strong point, and
she did. He stood there beside her for a moment thinking about this answer, and
replied: "Teresa says that you and Justin were sweethearts. Is that
true?"

Once again in shock, Mrs. Frisby blinked her eyes, thinking. "Why,
no!" she said. "Sure Justin and I were very good friends, but that
doesn't mean that we were ever sweethearts! I'm sure he feels the same way.
And, to save you the trouble of asking, when I'm ready to have another
relationship, I would like it to be with Justin, if anyone, but we'd have to
come to know one another much better. No one could ever replace your father,
ever."

Now this last remark was taken seriously; very serious, for it was a very
serious thing. It was slightly tense after that, with a long drag of silence as
well. It was a moment or two before anyone spoke again.

"Oh." Timothy said, with much relief. He walked off, in content,
very much gladdened my his mother's answer. Mrs. Frisby still sat there, in
shock of how the day was going so far. First, a missing teapot with a long
story behind it, and then strange questions being asked by her children! What
next?

CRASH! There was a loud crash that came from the living-room. Mrs. Frisby
was afraid to even go in there, considering how the day has been. She walked in
anyway, and to her surprise, she saw Martin lying on the floor with blood
dripping down his arm.

"What happened in here?" asked Mrs. Frisby, not wanting to deal
with it right now.

Martin looked up at her with tears streaming down his cheeks. Out of all the
children, he was the unlikeliest to cry. Something had happened. Sara looked
around, and saw Timothy in the corner with his fur puffed up, and his tail
streaming behind him. His shirt was torn, and he was angry, real angry.

"He hurt me, momma, he hurt me!" cried Martin, in anguish.

"I didn't mean to!" Timothy shouted back at him. The two stared at
each other with a lot of dangerous hostility.

"Okay guys," Sara gasped, "What happened?"

"Well," Martin began, "He was being stupid so I gave him what
he deserved! Then he pushed me down onto the table, and I sliced my arm. It's
all his fault!"

Timothy lunged forward, but Teresa held him back (thank goodness). Timothy
began his side of the story.

"I was talking to Teresa about what you had said to me. Well, Martin
heard it all and came over and picked on me. (it was here when he paused to
stick out his tongue) He started talking about how I was being so stupid, and I
was forgetting about dad, and stuff like that. He came toward me, and I pushed
him down!"

Timothy lunged again, and Martin stood up. Sara examined Martin's cut, and
it was deep. She thought about this for a moment. Timothy pushed Martin down?
That was odd. Timothy never has that much guts, let alone the strength!
"Well children, this is it." Mrs. Frisby concluded, "I can't
take sides. Timothy, you shouldn't have pushed your brother; and Martin, you
shouldn't pick fights. This is where picking fights gets you."

Right then Martin's nose began to bleed. Sara looked up at Timothy.
"Maybe I got a few swings in there, too!?"

Sara was surprised. This was the strangest day she had had for quite a long
time. Cynthia handed Martin a tissue, and Timothy looked down in shame. Mrs.
Frisby gave each of them their own little lecture. She pointed out that Timothy
was wrong for hitting and pushing his brother, but it was okay for him to talk
to the others about what she had told him. It was everyone's business what her
feelings were for Justin. She pointed out to Martin not to pick fights, and to
mind his own business. It was okay for him to have his own opinion on such a
matter, but not okay to handle it in such a fashion. After the long, one-hour
lecture, they both came out of the living-room all cool and calm. It seemed as
if there had never even been a fight that day, except for the long, red wound
that reached from Martin's wrist to his elbow.

"Cynthia, I'm going to Mr. Ages' to get some more bandages for Martin,
and I want you to come with me. I think I might as well take the teapot with me
to have it fixed." Cynthia followed her mom out the door, but before Sara
was fully out the door, she eyed back at Martin and Timothy. Teresa had
promised to keep the peace. Mrs. Frisby hoped that that was true. She and
Cynthia left.

"HEAVE!!! HEAVE!!!!" Justin shouted. He was at the head of a long
line of straining rats, towing an enormous concrete block behind them. They
tugged at it all at the same time, to increase the force, and to save their strength.
"HEAVE!!!! HEAVE!!!" he continued. After a dozen "heaves"
or so, Justin called it quits. "Okay, fellas, that's enough for now. Later
we'll take it the rest of the way. Now, you guys can go to the cafeteria, or
home for dinner."

The sky was a bright orange, scattered with clouds in the evening sunlight.
The breeze blew slightly, and the silhouettes of birds flew in the air. It was
so peaceful, it made Justin never want to go. He never knew that the outdoors
could be that way- the only thing he knew was civilization. He never knew the
world since he had moved to Thorn Valley.

After the group of rats had left, Justin lay down and thought about
everything. It had been nearly six months since they had moved there, and boy,
was it ever hard. Sure the place was very well off right now, but it was
nowhere near what they had had before. The main hall was up, the schools were
in operation, and everything they had built (which was a lot) was built to a
tee. Everything they built, they didn't stop at it until it was perfect. Once
that was done, they moved onto the next thing or project. They still needed
more dorms, more bathrooms, electricity, just stuff that they could live
without, but it would be better if they had them. When you walked through the
hall, it looked as if it was completely done, nothing wrong with it, and that
was true. The rats built at something until it was looking perfect, and then
moved on. The only construction they needed was that of things other than the
bare-necessities.

Justin picked up his things and walked inside. The guard at the door,
Brutis, greeted Justin whole-heartily and grinned as he walked by. Brutis was
quite intimidating, with his tallness and his bulging muscles and he could be
very mean if he wanted to. You really had to get to know Brutis; then you would
find that he was just a big baby at heart.

Anyway, Justin greeted his friend as well, and stepped inside. You had to
walk down a short dark corridor before you reached the door to the main hall.
Justin pushed a button beside the door which caused the door to open. The door
was a real set-up. If you looked at it, there in the darkness, were hundreds of
gears and pulleys rigged to open the door. Arthur, the chief engineer mastered
it to perfection. Not yet had there been any flaw in his works.

Justin walked down the hallway, heading toward the cafeteria. You could
consider the hall (and all the other Nimh constructions) as a maze. The main
hall branched off into many corridors, which split into more corridors, which
broke down into even more hallways and rooms. It took a long time to memorize
the entire place. Justin took several lefts and rights, until he came upon the
cafeteria.

The savory aroma of food filled the air. After such a hard day's work he was
glad of that smell. He took a tray, and walked up to the bar. "Potatoes,
bread, soup, and a small salad, please," Justin said to the lady behind
the bar.

The lady plopped the potatoes in a large heap onto his plate, gave him two
pieces of grain-bread and butter, poured the soup of the day (which was
vegetable) into a cup, and placed some lettuce and cheese on a separate plate
as his salad. The food there was always fresh and tasty, despite the condition
the Thorn Valley inhabitants and constructions were in.

Everyone seemed to get along well there. The people of Nimh always talked
about what type of poor condition their colony was in, yet they did have enough
of everything (but not as much as they would like).

Justin found a table. He thought about what a boring day it had really been.
Sure they had hauled three large blocks to the Main Hall for construction
purposes, but that was it. Those blocks really help, but it isn't considered
very much of an excitement. Often Justin wished he had some time off from being
second in command (Nicodemus was still in control, but most of his duties were
carried out through or by Justin). Justin continued to think. The cafeteria
still needed more lighting and maybe some windows, the West Wing of the Main
Hall still needed double-doors, and they were still in need of more custodians.
When would it end?

Almost half an hour passed as Justin sat spooning himself his food,
dreamily. He sat at that round, red and yellow table gazing off at all the
busyness of the room when his silence was interrupted by a small, hyper rat
named Lewis.

Lewis was one of the formal guards, and boy was he formal (especially to
higher officials such as Justin)! "Sir, sir…" he said, anxious to get
Justin's attention.

Justin jumped a bit. "Oh, sorry," Justin replied, "What is
it, Lewis?"

"Well," Lewis continued, "I am here to report, sir, that
there are several women waiting in your office for the position of janitors,
sir. I wish to inform you that you gave them a specific time to meet you, and
you are not there, sir."

"Thank-you, Lewis," Justin answered, "I'll be right there.
And please- stop calling me sir!"

Lewis nodded loyally, turned sharply, and marched off. To him, every minute
in public was a minute of duty. He was a good officer, though.

Justin shoved the rest of his now cold potatoes into his mouth, and hurried
out of the room. How could he have forgotten? He had just been thinking about
the problem for janitors, and he completely forgot his appointments! As he
walked, he tried to sort out his thoughts: The women mostly tend to the dorms;
make beds, clean the rooms, mop, and take care of the hallways and bathrooms…
he soon came to his office.

His office was nicely furnished, which made it look a lot smaller than it
really was. The sides of the room were lined with red velvet chairs, and his
desk sat in the corner, by the window. There was a beautiful woven rug in the
center of the room, between the two rows of chairs, and it consisted of dark
blues and rusty reds. It went well with the appearance of the room.

"Sorry, ladies, I seemed to have lost my mind there, for a while!"
Justin apologized. The ladies each slightly giggled, flattered that the
handsome, second-in-command Justin spoke to them. There were about eight ladies
in there, and after a while, Justin concluded that they all qualified for the
job(s). Two were assigned to the bathrooms, two to dorms, two to the hallways,
one to the cafeteria, and one to odd-jobs and errands. The number of new
workers that were just employed would help immensely.

The eight left his office in a slight sweat, and they all would start
tomorrow. Justin sighed as they were finally out of his way, and it meant that
he had one less thing to worry about. Now, about those double-doors……

Cynthia clutched Mrs. Frisby's hand as she tried to keep up with the pace at
which her mother was going. "Momma, when will we be there? Will Mr. Ages
be angry at me for breaking your teapot? Will we get back by dark? How long
does it usually take to get to his house?"

Cynthia hadn't stopped asking questions since the two of them had left the
house. Sara soon regretted her taking the child along. But it was only natural
for Cynthia to be curious, considering that she had only been to Ages' house
once, a long time ago, and her feet were getting tired. "We'll be there
soon, dear," Mrs. Frisby said for the fourth and hopefully the last time.
After that, Cynthia kept her silence, for she had spotted a toad sitting under
a bush. She tried to go toward it but Mrs. Frisby, knowing how Cynthia liked to
wander, held onto her hand.

Dusk came shortly after the long line of questions. The sky was orange and
pink, with a hint of purple. You could slightly see the moon, all white and
pale. Sara enjoyed this time of the evening, and she soon was engulfed in her
own thoughts.

Still keeping a sharp eye out for Dragon, and hiding behind logs and
neglected grass, she continued to think. What type of question was that; if she
ever thought about Justin? Of course she did! She was right at that moment! She
took this into even deeper consideration. Sara never quite realized how much
she did think about Justin. Often she would lie in bed, pondering about what he
was doing, and how he was managing things. She did want to visit him, badly,
but the thought would have to come after other things she wanted to do. Maybe
she could start a life there, after all, the children were prospering
education-wise, and they needed room to learn. She could not supply the right
texts and books to satisfy their thirst for knowledge. Her children were
growing rapidly, and she hoped that she could live long enough to see them grow
up. Maybe there was some way she could become like them- longer life, and
faster growth… no way! The rats didn't have the knowledge of the formula in which
they had been injected with, or did they?

"Momma, momma, we're here! Hello??" Cynthia urged her mother
through Mr. Ages' door. Still in a trance, Sara walked in. She didn't really
know how long she had been standing there until Mr. Ages shook her back into
consciousness.

"Sorry, I was in a daze.. I forgot where I was for a minute there, Mr.
Ages, sorry!"

"Quite alright, girl, quite alright," Mr. Ages comforted.
"Now, what have you come to me for? Is that Timothy doing okay? I have
some more powder.."

"No, no, I'm Just here for some bandages, and some glue." Mrs.
Frisby held up the teapot. Mr. Ages walked over to one of his many shelves and
got a few bottles of this, a few packages of that.

"Sit down, child, sit down while I fix up some of my ol' reliable glue,
eh?" Mrs. Frisby and Cynthia sat down as they were told. Cynthia looked
about the room, wondering what all those bottles and bags and packages were.

Mr. Ages got out a mixing bowl and poured multiple powders and fluids into
it. "Well, I see your teapot finally got broken. What happened, leave it
on the fire too long? Or was it one of the K-I-D-S (Cynthia could not yet spell
well)?

"I fear it was this one," Mrs. Frisby looked down at Cynthia.

Cynthia blushed. "I didn't mean to!" She griped. "It was on
accident!"

Mr. Ages peered over his spectacles at her. "Oh, really? And did you
ask before you used it?" He said it as if he knew the whole, long story,
yet he did not. Cynthia looked down at the ground once more, embarrassed to the
fullest extent. She then knew why her mother wanted her to come along.

The glue was finished in no time, and Mr. Ages put the wet substance on the
cracked teapot (thank heavens the glue was white, to match the color of the
pot). After he smoothed it down, he reached high on the top shelf for bandages.
He handed a large box of them to Mrs. Frisby. Sara was shocked at how many he
gave her, but she did not object, for she knew that she would probably need
them in the future.

"There you go," Mr. Ages said as he handed her the teapot.
"The glue is still wet, but it should dry within fifteen minutes or so,
just be sure not to touch it until then"

Mrs. Frisby stood up, and thanked the old white mouse gratefully, and headed
for the door. "If you ever need anything, Sara," Mr. Ages said as
they walked away, "just let me know. I'm here for everybody!"

Mrs. Frisby looked back and nodded, and then went about her way. Cynthia was
glad that it was all over, for she suffered a great amount of humiliation
there, and she was getting sleepy.

By then, the beautiful dusk had turned into night. The sky was now a rich
purple, dotted with a great many white stars. The only light the two had was by
the moon, which hung beautifully in the sky, illuminating the wet grass, and
sending dark shadows flying across the field. It was a peaceful night that
night, no worries, just the last of the fireflies floating in the sweet air. It
was almost fall, and Sara knew there would be few warm nights like this again.

A rustle. A rustle in the bushes. There- not more than a few yards away!
Cynthia had been humming ever since she had left Mr. Ages', but was now quickly
silenced by her mother.

"Hush, Cynthia," Mrs. Frisby whispered, "There is something
in the bushes. Hold onto that box of bandages tightly, my dear, we may be in
quite a hurry in a moment."

Cynthia gripped Sara's hand in fright, terrified of what was there. She, as
well as her mother knew well what could be hiding no more than a few feet from
them…Dragon! Cynthia choked down a knot in her throat, as she and Sara walked
slowly but silently past the bushes.

"RUN!!!" Mrs. Frisby shouted, louder than she thought she could.
The two moved immediately to this notion, to find that Dragon had pounced right
behind them! They scurried under whatever they could, trees, logs, bushes, even
little holes in the ground, whatever could stall Dragon from seeking them out.
They huffed as they ran, exhausted. Sara yanked Cynthia forward, causing Dragon
to miss them once again. They ran and ran, dodging and weaving, until Sara
finally saw what she had longed for- home. But they were not out of the blue
yet…

Dragon let out a horrific yowl, as the door of the Frisby home opened.
"Hurry, momma!!" Teresa urged, pushing them in when they reached her.
The door was then shut, and locked.

"Cover, children!" Sara shouted, as she headed for a window. She
saw nothing. There was no way Dragon had left that soon, was there? Mrs. Frisby
continued to peer out when she was greatly frightened by a big, yellow eye that
popped up outside the window. Dragon was still there. But they were safe for
now, right?

The four children peeped out from the blankets in which they had been
hiding, and looked around. "Is it safe, mom?" Martin asked.

Sara signaled him to come to her, so she could put some bandages on him (it
was amazing that Cynthia hadn’t lost them). Sara placed two bandages on
Martin's large cut, and sent him off. Sometimes, they could feel the small
Frisby home shake, because of Dragon's either rubbing, or pouncing. For the
rest of that night, no one was at ease.

Mrs. Frisby could not get to sleep that night. It wasn't because of the day
she had had, but she had a lot of things on her mind. She knew that from now on
(since Dragon knew what dwelled in that little home of theirs) she and her
family were in danger. That thought horrified her. She could no longer allow
the children to play outside without having fear that they'll be eaten. Maybe
it would be better if they moved to Thorn Valley. Thorn Valley was a long way
away, though. It took at least three days to walk there, up a mountain! There
were so many down sides about going to Thorn Valley, but there were so many
good sides about going there, too. Decisions, decisions…

Mrs. Frisby had just dozed off when the sun was nearly blinding her (the
light was coming in from the window). She had stayed up all night, worrying
about what to do! Sara got up from the bed, with large circles under her eyes.
She slowly walked into the living-room, wanting something to put her to sleep.

"Momma? Is that you under there?" Timothy joked. He was referring
to her moppy hair and baggy eyes.

Mrs. Frisby looked around. "Where's Martin?" she asked the
remaining three children.

"He's outside," Teresa answered, "He wanted to pick some
flowers for you."

Sara's eyes got large and nearly bugged out of her head. She jumped up and
rushed to the door. The kids looked at each other.

The front door swung open, and Mrs. Frisby frantically looked around. Oh,
where was he? There was no sign of Dragon, thank goodness. "MARTIN!"
Mrs. Frisby yelled, "MARTIN!"

Justin walked coolly down the hallway, nodding at the ladies, turning around
to walk backwards, and then frontward again. He walked as if he heard music in
his ears, and his feet were walking to the beat. For some odd reason, he
snapped into a good mood all of the sudden. He had been having a very stressful
day, but you could never tell it, now.

In his hand he held the blueprints for those double-doors he needed. It was
already night time (about the time when Mrs. Frisby and Cynthia were leaving
Mr. Ages' house), and he wanted to tell Arthur what he wanted before he forgot.
He wanted them arch-shaped, to fit the curved ceiling of the hall, and white.
They were going to lead to the West Wing, which meant that they needed to look
good.

The West Wing was where a lot of Thorn Valley's special features were, such
as the Council Meeting Room (that was still being built). The Council was
strictly for higher officials like Justin, Nicodemus, Lewis, Brutis, and people
who played important roles in Nimh. Also in the West Wing there was the Meeting
Room, which was for every public problem, and all persons, as well. There was
the courtroom (it speaks for itself), and Nicodemus' office, too. The West Wing
was still under construction, but when it was done, it was going to be the most
attractive part of the Thorn Valley's constructions.

Soon Justin got to the latest construction site, where he would find Arthur.
Sure enough, Arthur was there, working on the Council Meeting room.

"Arthur," Justin called out, "do ya have a minute?"

Arthur looked behind him, smiled, and stepped down the ladder on which he
had been standing. "Of course!" he answered.

Arthur was a very tall rat, but he wasn’t built like Timothy, no way. He was
muscular and stubby, but quite intelligent. He had to be smart to plan
everything like he did. His fur was a deep chestnut brown, and it was ruffled
up, at that moment. He was sweaty; you could tell that he had been working
hard. That pleased Justin.

Justin handed Arthur the blueprints. "Do you think you can make the
doors like this?" he asked, "There might be some problems, and if
there are, you decide what to do- changes, that is."

Arthur took the paper from Justin and looked over it. He looked at it for a
minute, nodding, squinting, and nodding some more. "I see no problem,
boss," Arthur insured, "If there comes a problem, I’ll send someone
down to get you, though I doubt I’ll even have to bother."

Justin looked up at the building site. It was coming along well, and it was
quite impressive. "How’s it coming along?" Justin asked.

"Well," Arthur replied, "I think everything we build from now
on will be built one-hundred times faster. We’ve found a rapid stream running
not too far away from here. I think we could create hydroelectric power from
it, hopefully."

These words thrilled Justin. He couldn’t wait ‘till they got power. It would
definitely make things easier. "What is the estimated time that we’ll get
power?" he asked.

"Not too long, but not too soon, either," Arthur said with a
little dread, "Don’t tell anyone, though. I thought that we’ll surprise
the people, hook up all the wires and things, and just turn them on one day.
You know, put lamps up in the ceilings, and then have them come on all of the
sudden. I thought the people would like to have such a surprise."

Justin smiled, and nodded. He was happy to see someone so concerned with the
community. There was a short amount of silence afterward, until Justin spoke
up: "Well, I’ll let you get back to work. Keep it up, it all looks
good." He walked away, happy.

Once again, Justin walked down the hallway happy, like he was earlier. He
was amazed at himself- he was in a good mood! After a day like the one he had
had, he was in a good mood. What had come over him?

The hallway was nearly empty. The candles on the walls had almost been burnt
out, from being lit for so long. Though it was so eerie, there were still many
rats out. Justin noticed a party of girls laughing and giggling outside the
door of a dorm. Justin tipped his hat at them as he passed (of course they all
blushed). Justin had no clue to how much he was admired by all the Thorn Valley
peoples (especially the girls).

Justin reached his office within a few minutes, hoping nobody was in it
unexpectedly. He opened the door. Good, no one was there! He sat down in his
chair, put his hands behind his head and leaned back. It felt good to relax.
Just as soon as he was finally at ease, there was a knock at the door.
"Come in." Justin said, no longer in a good mood. Nicodemus walked
in. "Sir?" Justin said, as he stood up.

Nicodemus looked at him. "There will be a Council meeting in a
half-hour. It’s about Jenner."

"What about Jenner?" Justin asked, seriously

"Well," Nicodemus answered, "We think he might still be
alive. I know that he was supposed to be dead, along with the rest of the seven
rats, but we think he’s still alive. Janet has been checking up on our history,
and it appears that Jenner took a few more than seven rats (Janet was the
librarian) with him. We heard on the radio that there had been a pack of rats
traveling north, toward the Fitzgibbons’ farm. We think it’s him and what’s
left of his crew."

"How come it was on the radio?" Justin asked, with a worried face.

"Obviously that Dr. Shultz has been looking for us. Ever since he
caught Roy in the rosebush, he’s been keeping an eye open. He knows that we
were there, but he doesn’t know where we are, now. I hope Jenner doesn’t lead him
to us."

"What about.." Justin started another question, but he was
interrupted by Nicodemus.

"Enough, Justin," he said, "We’ll discuss this later. If you
have any questions, write them down." Nicodemus left the room in a hurry.

Justin looked at the clock. It was five ‘till nine. He would head up there
by nine twenty, and get there by nine thirty. Until then, he would stop by the
school and check up on the night classes.

The school was in the North Wing of Thorn Valley, and was very nice. It was
all shaped like a humungus glass doughnut. There were eight classes in all, and
they all revolved around the hollow middle of the school. You could walk around
it and see everything going on in all the rooms. It was nicely laid out and it
looked like something from the future.

Justin was there in no time. He walked slowly around that big, glass
doughnut, checking on how well everyone was doing. There were a lot of adults
in the night classes, but still there were some children who worked during the
day, and went to school at night, instead. Most of them were scribbling notes
down from the blackboard but one class, the music class, where everyone was
singing. Justin was proud at how seriously the Thorn Valley community took
school.

He looked at his watch. It was almost nine twenty. Justin took one last
glimpse of the school, smiled, and jogged down the hallway. He hoped he would
not be late. Before he could get too far, he ran into a young rat carrying a
huge stack of papers.

"Oh, oh, oh!" she said, as she abruptly picked up the papers in
panic.

"Hey," Justin started, "what’s your name? Why are you in such
a hurry?"

The young lady looked at him, stunned. She held her breath for a moment
until Justin patted her on the back. She dropped her papers once again. As she
picked up the papers, she started talking. "Alice. My name is Alice,"
she said, "I work for the Council. I copy, uh, I mean, I type everything
that is said, for records."

Justin shook his head. "The Council is the other way," Justin
said, "I’m going there, myself." He beckoned her to follow him, and
she readily agreed.

They walked down the hallway, silent. Justin looked over at Alice. She was
putting her papers in order, and reading over them. Justin found it odd- he had
never seen her before. He looked her over. She was wearing a light brown vest,
with a long, pastel yellow skirt that fell just below her ankles. In fact, he
never even knew the Council had a typist. Well, this was a serious
subject, and maybe Nicodemus hired her because of that reason. All Justin knew
was that he knew nothing about her.

Still they walked, silenced. She seemed to be very shy, and constantly out
of breath. Justin thought about her for a moment. After the Council, he would
tell Nicodemus to get her to a doctor. She needed something…

They were there. The two of them walked through the high-rising arch doors,
onto the freezing marble floors. The marble was shaped in triangles, and laid
in complicated patterns. There were seats lining the walls. The seats were laid
out like the way the seats are in a football stadium. There was a small,
half-circle balcony sticking out from the wall. That is where Nicodemus, the
"judge" and a guard sat (the judge was there to help keep some
order). The room consisted of mainly of deep oranges, yellows, reds, browns,
blues and greens. You could say that it was a colorful room, it was.

After Alice and Justin walked in, Alice departed in a hurry. She turned a
sharp left, and disappeared into the shadows. Maybe she had to get a few
things. Justin looked up. He was late, but not much.

"Nicodemus," Justin looked up to the balcony, "I’m here,
sorry." Justin took his seat among the rest of the crowd. The seats had
amazingly filled up quick. He braced himself for a very long speech.

"Fellows!" Nicodemus shouted, as he stood up, "You all should
know why we are here. If not, here’s the problem: we think Jenner is
coming!"

There was a great amount of whispering and talking amongst the people. The
judge pounded a large hammer on the railing. "Order! Order!" he
shouted.

Nicodemus spoke up again. "Don’t ask questions now, see me after the
meeting. We fear that Jenner took more than seven rats with him when he left.
We heard on the radio that they have been spotted! They have been seen
traveling toward the Fitzgibbons’ farm, supposedly looking for us!"

"Why was it on the radio?" a voice shouted from the crowd.

"Well," Nicodemus continued, "obviously Dr. Shultz has been
looking for us. As you all can recall, Roy died the day we left the farm. I
guess Dr. Shultz discovered who he was. Who we are. What we are. Anyway, Jenner
can lead them to us! We have to get to him, before he gets to us!"

"Jenner is a traitor! Let him perish!" Brutis shouted out.

Nicodemus continued his speech with the answer to Brutis’ question:
"No! If he gets to us, he’ll lead Dr. Shultz to us, and then we’ll
perish! We have to get him here as quickly as we can, so we’ll be hidden from
publicity. Right now, Jenner is being stupid. He hasn’t thought things out. He
didn’t consider the thought that he could be followed! If we can get to him, we
can hide him, and smuggle him here, so we are not to be found out. From then,
we’ll figure out something to do with him."

Voices rang out, yelling and cursing, some in fear, some in disagreement.

"What I want you to do," Nicodemus said, "I want all guards
to go camp about a mile from the Fitzgibbons’ farm, to meet Jenner. From there,
smuggle him here. Take the longest way possible, as long as you’re hidden. You
all are to head out tomorrow morning. Pack well. The storage rooms will give
you all the food you want, and all you can carry. Pack blankets, weapons, and
any other useful items. This should be an honor, you are saving over
two-hundred lives! The only guard I want to stay is Justin. He shall stay here
to help keep people calm."

Justin blushed as everyone turned their heads to look at him. He privately
wished he could go; anything to get him out and away from the pressures of
being second-in-command.

Nicodemus spoke up again, "I guarantee this is not a hard nor dangerous
task! All you have to do is stay under cover. You should be back within a week!
Council adjourned!"

A huge wave of rats flooded out the doors, as Nicodemus headed out.

"Nicodemus!!!" Justin shouted, before they both left.

Nicodemus looked off the balcony at Justin. "Why?" Justin asked,
"Why must I stay? It will make me a threatened envy by all other guards!
It makes me look weak!"

"It doesn’t make you look anything," called Nicodemus, "it
makes you lucky!" Nicodemus walked away, in a hurry once again.

"What did that mean?" Justin said to himself. "I thought that
it wasn’t a dangerous mission!" Justin shook it off. Hey, Nicodemus
wouldn’t lie to his people, and he knows better than most. His plan would work.
It had to.

Mrs. Frisby strained her lungs as she called for her son.
"MARTIN!" She wandered off the doorstep without her old red cape.
This would have been quite embarrassing for the rest of the children, but
considering the situation, they didn’t care.

Sara wandered, tears swelling up in her eyes. She blinked them out. As she
wiped the tears from her eyes with her thumb, she heard a rustle in the bushes.
"Martin? Is that you?" she asked the dark figure behind the bush.

"Yeah, mom," it answered, and out from the shadows appeared
Martin.

"Don’t you ever go outside again, Martin," Mrs. Frisby scolded,
"Dragon can get you, now. He knows where we live!"

Martin apologized, and hugged his mom. They both walked inside.

"Kids," Mrs. Frisby said as they walked through the door, "I
have come to a decision." The children perked up. "I have thought
this through, and, it is dangerous to live here any longer. You all need an
education, and a livable life, around others like you, and you need a place to
grow up. I have thought about it, and, we’re moving to Thorn Valley."

The kids looked at Sara, shocked. "But that’s so far away!" cried
Teresa. Timothy chimed in:

"Why? See what you did, Martin?" Timothy eyed Martin, and Martin
braced himself as he looked at his mom. Sara answered:

"Now, Timothy, this isn’t because of Martin, I’ve thought about it long
before this. I think it would be better. We can start today, if you like, it’s
still early. Just think- Justin will be there, the people who saved your lives,
a big place to wander around in, everything you’ve ever dreamed of.. it’s
there!"

Unsure, the children looked about, waiting for someone to speak up.
"The trip is three days away, momma!" said Cynthia, anxiously.

"We can fly there! By Jeremy!" Timothy burst out, wanting to go.

"Yeah!" Martin and Teresa added. It pleased Sara to see her
children so happy at the idea.

"Is it a go?" Sara questioned. The children agreed.

The family spent the rest of the day packing the few things they had, and
closing up the house. That afternoon, when they were all done, Mrs. Frisby
carefully headed outside to call Jeremy.

She walked quite a way out into the field (always keeping an eye out for you
know who) to where there was a large group of crows picking at the grass. Mrs.
Frisby walked up to them.

"Excuse me, folks," she said. They all turned their heads to
listen. "I was wondering if any of you have seen Jeremy. You know, he’s
slightly scatter-brained, clumsy, and terribly obsessed with lustrous
objects?"

All the birds looked around, and out of the crowd came a tall robust crow
with a red string tied around it’s neck.

"So I’m clumsy now, am I?" he said.

Sara and Jeremy laughed at this for a moment, until Mrs. Frisby cut to what
she wanted.

"Jeremy," she said, "can you fly my family to Thorn
Valley?"

The crow thought as hard as he could (which wasn’t too long), turning it’s
head from one side to the other. "Certainly, Mizz Frizz (he emphasized on
the z’s), anything! But if we are to leave today, we should leave soon, it’s a
long way away." Mrs. Frisby signaled Jeremy to follow her, and he did.

By the time they both had walked to the Frisby home, the children were
already waiting by the door with their bags in their hands. All of the kids
were exited to see Jeremy, for he was quite their favorite playmate. Without
delay, the whole family was loaded onto the crow. Teresa, Cynthia, and Sara
rode on Jeremy’s back, and the two boys gripped tightly to Jeremy’s legs. They
would have to hold themselves up, heightened onto his legs as he took off and landed,
but while they were in the air, they sat in the clutches of his feet.

The take-off was a little bumpy, and it seemed even worse to Mrs. Frisby,
who hated flying all together. She closed her eyes as they took off, the wind
gusting suddenly into her lungs, like a burst dam. Soon, they smoothed out.

Sara thought for a short time. She was actually doing it. They were actually
moving to Thorn Valley. There was no hassle out of the kids, and no delays.
They just packed their bags and left. This was certainly a first!

She looked down to take one last look at her beloved house, and looked away
with butterflies in her stomach.

"You okay, guys?" Sara called down to the boys on Jeremy’s feet.

"Yeah, mom," they called back, "we’re just fine- this is
great!!"

Gratified with their comfort, Sara leaned back, forgetting about the other
two children behind her.

"Ow!" voiced Cynthia.

Mrs. Frisby looked back and apologized. She could tell by the look on the
two children’s faces that they were enjoying themselves. This was the first
time they were up in the air, and it surprised Mrs. Frisby that they were so
calm.

"So, Mizz Frizz," Jeremy struck up suddenly, "why Thorn
Valley? Vacation? If so, I know of a much better place down there by the
river…" he nodded toward the long, green snake far below them.

"No, Jeremy," Mrs. Frisby corrected, "We’re moving. We all
decided to move there for better lives. The children need a good education, and
it would be much safer."

Jeremy was surprised at this answer. His expression dropped, and a frown
came upon his face. "Miz Friz.. why? I mean… You were just going to leave,
and not tell anyone goodbye? Not even me?"

Jeremy’s voice choked softly. In sympathy and guilt, Mrs. Frisby patted the
crow’s back daintily and said: "Oh, Jeremy, I was going to tell you
goodbye. After all, without you, I would not be here, either, and I would have
never met the rats."

"Correction," Jeremy interrupted, "you saved my life,
and now you’re leaving to live with the rats."

Sara looked away. Bad example. "Well," she continued, "you
can always come and see me whenever you want, I’m sure they won’t mind. You’re
a good guy, too, you know."

After a long drag of silence, Jeremy spoke up. "I guess you’re right.
I’ll come and see you every other week. I’ll bring you food, and presents, and
I’ll tell you about everything that is going on on the farm. I’ll even bring
you medicine from Mr. Ages’."

Now Mrs. Frisby felt really bad. Sara looked down again, to see nothing but
a long field of dark pine trees, and scattered wildflowers. She supposed that
they were now over the wilderness reserve. That meant they only had a few more
minutes left in the air. Mrs. Frisby took a deep breath, trying to figure out
whether or not she was crazy.

"Hike up, kids," Jeremy called, "We’re coming in for a
landing!!" With a screech and a caw, the crow landed in a large circular
field, surrounded with one, annular gray cave. The field was a complete circle
atop of a tall mountain. A big, towering cave outlined the field. There was not
a rat to be seen.

Once the crew came to a halt, they all got off of the crow. With their bags
in their hands, the children waited behind their mother, while she said her
good-byes, and thanks. "Jeremy, thank you very much for all you have done
for this family. Not only have you saved our lives, you have brought our family
and other species together. I shall never be able to repay you, ever."

A salty azure tear fell from Jeremy’s eye, as he looked down sadly at his
friends. Mrs. Frisby stood on her tip-toes, and kissed the bird gently on the
beak. Reddened, Jeremy looked at Sara’s kids. "You all behave yourselves,
you hear?" he questioned.

No longer able to speak, Jeremy took flight again. The Frisby family only
looked up and waved, deeply touched by the parting.

Sara cleared her throat. "Well, children," she patted them on the
backs, "let’s go." The small group slowly headed toward the cave
entrance, lugging their bags behind them.

After Nicodemus’ meeting, Justin went to bed. He arose the next morning to
heavy grieving coming from the hallways. He had forgotten, the guards were to
leave today. He walked out into the hall, and it was a pitiful sight. There
were children and wives crying, hugging, and even the silent cries of the soldiers.

Across the hall from Justin’s room, there was a large group of ladies,
patting their eyes with handkerchiefs, and bidding farewell to their loved
ones. There was one male rat in the center of the group, kissing his family,
with tears streaming down his cheeks. It was Brutis. At this sight, Justin
walked over to him. "Brutis," he said.

Brutis looked up, quite abashed by his appearance.

"I only have one thing to tell you, and that is to be careful. Without
you, Nimh would never be safe. You have saved our lives many times, and I know
you can do it again. Good luck."

"Oh yeah?" Brutis asked, as Justin turned away, "what do you
know? You don’t have to leave your family, you do not have to risk your life or
be seen by humans. Why are you sounding so concerned? It is not your neck about
to be hung, it is ours. All you have to do is sit back and hope it isn’t too
uncomfortable in the noose."

Justin was stunned at the tone of harshness that came from his friend.
Brutis was right, though; and Justin knew it. Justin knew from the beginning
that there would be jealousy. "I’m sorry, Brutis," he said, "I
should have to walk a mile in your shoes before I speak about this to you
again, I’m sure. I’m sorry." Holding no grudge as he walked away, Justin
decided that he would step outside to get some fresh air.

Slowly, looking around at the sight of the surrounding grief, he walked down
the hallway. Justin was afraid to show his face until the soldiers left. If
kind-hearted Brutis thought that of him, what else did the others think? Did
they despise him? Did they forgive him? Did they understand that Justin was
given orders not to go?

He walked out the automatic front door, not used to Brutis not being there.
Justin looked up, and there, right in front of him stood a small family of five
with bags in their hands. It took Justin a moment to realize who it was.

"SARA!!!" he yelled, overwhelmed with excitement.

"JUSTIN!!!" Mrs. Frisby yelled in return. There were immediate
hugs and tears, followed by shivers caused by the commotion.

"How are you? What are you doing here?" Justin asked, patting
Timothy on the head.

"Oh, we decided to move here, for safety reasons."

Mrs. Frisby explained as briefly as she could why she was there, and what
had happened between her and Dragon. Justin did the same thing. He quickly
talked about how well things were going, and how he was.

"Listen," he said, "about this safety thing, now isn’t really
the best time…."

He was interrupted by a trembling from the ground. He pushed the Frisby family
away from the door as quickly as he could, before a mob of rats jogged out the
door with heavy bags on their backs.

They were dressed in green vests, and round, hard hats. On their backs were
bulging packs filled with blankets and food. On each side of the packs there
were vicious black spears. Sara gasped as they ran past her. After a minute or
two, the group was gone, and all was safe.

"What was that?!" Sara squeaked out. The crowd stood up, puffing
for air.

"That was what I was trying to tell you," Justin answered,
"we are suffering from a small crisis. We think that Jenner is coming
back. We, as you have just seen, have sent our troops out to bring him back. I
was the only guard that did not have to go, therefore everyone now hates
me."

"But.." Mrs. Frisby started to say something but, looking back at
the children, she could tell that their feet were probably tired. "Let’s
step inside, shall we? Then we can talk."

In agreement, Justin gestured them in.

The only way into the cave was a small door entrance. This entrance was not
very big, it was a rat-sized door, in fact, so it would be impossible for
humans or any large animal to get in.

Justin and Sara walked down the echoing hallway, talking, and totally
forgetting the kids. He explained everything about what was going on about
Jenner. He told why they wanted to bring him back, and what he wanted done to
Jenner afterwards. He then described the room that he would place Sara in, and
it’s features.

Mrs. Frisby was fascinated with the circumstances with Jenner, but once
Justin began describing her room, she forgot all about the previous matter.

"The room is going to be a bit dark, come night," Justin told,
"for we haven’t any electricity, yet. We expect power by the end of the
week, maybe later, according to Arthur. The beds should be fresh, and the whole
room should be cleaned, especially since I just hired eight new janitors last
night. We only have a little water from the small pond behind the cave, so
avoid baths. Once we get power, you can use as much of it and water as you
like."

Mrs. Frisby nodded, understanding.

They were in front of the room by the time they had finished their
conversation. "Here you go, madam."

Justin opened the door and spread out his hand. You could tell this was not
an ordinary room, no, it could be considered a sweet! The walls were finely
finished and carved. There were two big fluffy beds in the two front corners of
the room, with dark blue sheets and comforters. On the walls there were oil
lamps. There was a large vanity/dresser pushed up against the left wall, also a
deep chestnut brown. There was a small bathroom with a toilet, bathtub and sink
in the back. There was a high ceiling (maybe because everything was made for
rat size, not mouse. That could explain the large beds).

"Oh, Justin!!! It’s beautiful!!"

The children hurried into the room and dropped their luggage down upon the
carpeted floor. Tired of standing and walking, they all plopped on the big fluffy
beds.

"We like this room, mother." Remarked Timothy.

"Yeah, mom," Cynthia chimed in, "it’s much better than
sleeping on cotton balls!"

"The cafeteria is just down the hall. If you get lost, all you have to
do is ask for directions, or on some corners, there are signs posted giving
directions." Justin added, "I should be in my office for a while, and
if you need me, ask anyone; they’ll know where you can find me. Now, I suggest
if you are to be living here, that you explore a little bit. You know, become
familiar with your new home. Sorry for my being so rude, but I’ve a ton of work
to finish, and later we can talk all you want, Sara. Good day."

Justin left, and Mrs. Frisby was shocked at how he just brought her to her
room and left. She thought about this, and decided that with Jenner’s problem,
no one was at ease.

"Come with me, children," Sara called back to her children,
"let’s look around. When we find the cafeteria we’ll eat."

With the sound of "eat," all the kids jumped to their feet,
forgetting how tired they actually were.

For the rest of the day, they explored. The family got lost a few times, but
Justin was right, there were some signs on the corners giving directions. They
all marveled at the sights; the school, the meeting rooms, the farm,
everything! Mrs. Frisby couldn’t tell whether she was going or coming in that
big maze of caves. Timothy had to serve as the navigator, for he was real good
at giving directions.

About an hour after they had left their room (this was well before they were
even half way done exploring), they stumbled across the cafeteria. The warm
scent of food floated about the air, causing five mouths to salivate, and five
little stomachs to growl.

Shyly Mrs. Frisby walked up to the bar. "Um, may we please have some salad,
please," she asked the lady serving, "and potatoes, too? And if it
isn’t too much bother, some corn and peas, also?"

Mrs. Frisby blinked her eyes waiting for a response, but all the lady did
was stare. "Excuse me?" Sara said.

"You! You’re.. you’re.." the lady behind the bar stuttered,
"you’re Mrs. Jonathan!!! You’re her! Aren’t you? Frisby, that
is!?"

By then a small crowd had gathered around them, to see what the commotion
was about.

"That’s Mrs. Jonathan Frisby!!!" the lady pointed as she shouted.
In an instant, everybody was wanting to gab her hand. Some were backing away,
afraid of meeting such an important person.

"Now, now, hold on a minute," Sara said, but no one heard her tiny
voice.

Then, from the back of the mob came an extremely tumultuous voice.
"QUIET!!" it screamed.

All the heads in the room turned to see who had made such a yell. Even Mrs.
Frisby turned instantly to the notion. She looked back to see one of her sons
looking bashfully up at all the towering rats. It happened to be Martin. He
pushed his way through the crowd of rats, and gripped Sara’s arm.

"This is my mother," said he, "and I do believe we came here
hoping to have a decent meal. Unfortunately we failed. Please, if you don’t
mind, leave us at peace so we can eat."

With that, the rats quickly cleared away. Some realized what they had been
doing to the poor victim, and left Sara’s sight all together. Others slowly
walked away, unsure about the small mouse’s claim, and also embarrassed that
they were obeying such an order from him.

Out of the whole crowd (after they were all gone) there only stood a child
rat, slightly older than Martin himself. He stood, laughing, and mocking the
family of five, and especially Martin.

"Ha! What a joke," he declared, "Afraid of this little mouse!
Why, his tail is no larger than my foot!"

And this was quite true. The tall robust rat stood well over Martin’s head.
He was dark, and had teeth that looked razor-sharp! Martin had better watch
himself!

The rat tapped his foot upon the ground for a moment and stood, thinking.
"Hmmm," he continued, "How do I know this is true? How do we
know that this is the real Mrs. Frisby? Her son looks kinda wimpy to me!"

By now, all the other rats just looked, in awe of what was being said.
Martin could take it no longer. They had been having such a lovely time in
Thorn Valley so far, and it was not about to be spoiled by one loud mouth, who
took Martin’s size for granted.

In a flash, before anyone could actually realize what had happened, the
smart-aleck rat was limping down the hall as fast as he possibly could.

Martin had gotten the better of him! He had bitten the rat’s ankle! He did
not bite it hard, nor was there any blood drawn; he just nipped it a bit. The
only mark that would be left would be a mere bruise.

"He thought he was tough. I showed him!" Martin said, very proud
of himself. "And," Martin held up his hands, "if anyone wants to
pester us again, they’ll have to deal with me first!"

Eyes wide, the people began once again to eat their temporarily forgotten
food.

Mrs. Frisby turned back towards the bar. "Now," she said, clearing
her throat, "how about that food?"