by Martyn Ford
Sniff-sniff-sniff. Whiskers tickling the sides of the vent shaft.
I wanna eat that cheese so bad. Imma do it. No, stop. It’s a mousetrap, look. See the spring? That piece of metal will swing down and smash your skull. Sure, but cheese. Free cheese. Well, it’s not free, is it. It’ll cost your life. I don’t understand. (I had found a really clever, argumentative rat. Why was its consciousness so switched on?) Why are you so smart? I thought. Huh?
What do you mean?
Well, I’m thinking, I thought, but I can hear you thinking too?
I’m confused.
So, right, you know you have an internal monologue, like a voice in your head?
Sure.
Well, why have you got one, if you’re a rat? And why are you arguing with me?
Sorry, I think we’ve got off on the wrong paw – who are you?
I’m Chester Parsons.
Pleased to meet you.
Are you … I mean, do you have a name?
A whispering brother holds attachments not to this world.
Wait … what? You’re one of them?
Of all the rats I could have picked, I had found one that was already occupied. Two mind jumpers. Two consciousnesses. Both competing for control of a single, greedy little rodent.
We eating this cheese or what?
If you’re a human, how come you can’t see that this is clearly a mousetrap?
Exactly. Mouse. We’re a rat. It’s not for us. It’ll probably be fine. Let’s eat it.
Please, no.
Look, Chester, you knew the risks. Now get ready because it’s five past cheddar and I am hungry.
Before I could stop myself, I felt my tiny mouth open, jut forwards and clamp on the cube of cheese. I heard a click, then closed my eyes and waited for death.
This terrible mousetrap cheese incident highlighted a very interesting question. What happens if the body you’re in dies? Does your consciousness go somewhere else? Is there an afterlife? Short answer is … drum roll … no.
Sorry to be the one to break it to you, but this is it. Straight up. So take good care of your body. Definitely don’t lose the thing. If there’s a moral to this whole story, that would be it. Don’t lose your body – it’s the only one you’re getting.
You’re probably miffed about the afterlife thing. Fine. There might be an afterlife. Happy now? The one thing I can tell you for certain is: if you’re out mind jumping and you end up in a different body, and that body dies, you die with it. You don’t go back to your first body. No retries. It’s not like a saved game or anything. It’s done. Over. Dead. Like, the stakes are as high as they seem.
Obviously this rat I was in wasn’t my body, so I wasn’t particularly attached to it. However, in the same way a car crash is so much worse if you’re in the car, I did not want it to die.
But when I opened my eyes in that vent shaft, I was a) alive and b) eating some cheddar. Tasted expensive too.
See, told you, it’s fine, the other consciousness in the rat thought. Trap’s a dud. I knew that all along.
We stepped away with the cheese between our teeth and, a second later, with a terrifying bang, the trap snapped shut, bouncing, clattering, echoing around inside the vent shaft. We held the cheese in our small paws – our mouth hung open. The hard piece of springy metal had broken the wooden base. It would have easily decapitated a rat.
Or not, whatever. Just got to be quick. I felt my tiny shoulders lift with a shrug.
This was the weirdest conversation of my life – all done via thoughts in a rat brain. I wanted to know more about this guy. We stood in the dark vent shaft munching the cheese.
That was too close, I thought. Why aren’t you more careful?
Huh?
You’re a mind jumper right?
Um … yeah, maybe. Da … Daahsuti? That rings bells.
So you’re a member of this cult, the Whispered Truth, a.k.a. the star swimmers?
Oh yeah, I think so.
You think so?
I … What was your name again?
Chester. How long have you been in this rat?
I dunno, maybe … a week? Cold Rain told me I had disobeyed the order. My punishment, demoted to rat.
That’s quite mean.
Yeah. Sometimes other animals too. My friend’s been a goldfish for years.
I’m not an expert on all this, I thought.
Clearly.
But you seem to have come to terms with it?
It’s not the end of the world. Certainly less to worry about as a rat. Life is simple.
How long can you be out of your body?
It varies. But after a while you will forget stuff, like me. Soon enough you just dissolve, like a sugar cube in a glass of warm water. I have accepted things, although it does get lonely. Hey, maybe you could stay here and live with me? It’s been great talking to you.
Nah, but thank you.
Suit yourself. What you even doing here anyway?
Right, yeah, maybe you can help me. I’ve lost my body.
Bummer.
Yes, bummer. I’m spending most of my time in a gorilla from the zoo.
Aw, cool. What’s it like?
I dunno, horrible? It would be fun, but things are stressful at the moment.
You know, when I lost something, my mother used to say it was probably in the last place you left it.
I already checked there.
Hmmm, then I’m stumped.
I think the star swimmers stole it.
Who?
The … the cult … the Whispered Truth. The star swimmers. The people in this building.
Oh yeah. I’m one of them. Well, I used to be – did I mention I got exiled to rat?
Yes. Do you think it’s possible they’ve stolen my body?
Why would they?
Well, because I’ve spoken publicly about mind jumping.
Oh, no, no, they don’t like that.
I know.
As long as you didn’t tell too many people, you should be fine.
I told EVERYONE. We made a TV show all about it.
Chester Parsons – I knew that name was familiar. Put a little smile on the Puff Puff Wheat P—
SHUT UP. All right, just shut up. Sorry, it’s just … Of all the things you can remember.
It’s a catchy jingle.
Look, if they have kidnapped me, where would my body be?
Well, it would be in the sleeping room with all the others.
Where’s that?
Where’s what?
The sleeping room.
Oh, in the basement. You tired?
Look, just take me there.
Aw, the cheese is all gone. I didn’t even pay attention – completely missed it. You ever do that – your thoughts just wander?
All the time. Come on.
We scurried through the new vent shaft in the old building, stopping briefly at one open grill. Through the thin slats I could see a huge open hall below – it looked a bit like the inside of a church. There were thousands of candles, long red banner flags with the three-eyed stickman on some of the walls, golden ornaments and about a hundred bald people wearing white robes. They were all sitting cross-legged on the floor in total silence. I saw that most of them were children. The youngest were at the back. And they seemed to get older towards the front – like a school assembly, but the other way around. Some were about four or five years old, all the way up to grandad-aged people in the first row.
The room was foggy with smoke from loads of incense sticks jutting like strange burning plants out of pots of sand dotted around the place. Sitting on a step at the front of the room, near the altar I guess you could call it, was a man with dark hair tied in a long plait. Unlike the others, he was wearing a black robe. Everyone’s eyes were closed. Looked like they were meditating.
What’s going on down there? I thought. Is this … is this like a school for mind jumpers?
Kind of.
And him, at the front?
Why isn’t that guy bald like the others?
Oh, that’s Cold Rain. He’s in charge. Stay away from him. See that sword?
The man had a long object on his lap – like a katana, one of those cool Japanese swords.
Yeah, I thought.
Well, he isn’t afraid to use it.
The only sound was the occasional cooing and shuffling of pigeons. I saw, at the back of the room, hundreds of wooden cages – a few grey feathers were on the stone floor, mixed with sawdust and ash.
What’s with all the birds? I thought.
That’s how the elders travel. If you get lost in a pigeon, at least it’ll bring you home safely.
Elders? Who are they?
Star swimmers who can mind jump.
So not everyone here can do it?
What? No, of course not. It takes decades of practice to achieve your first real mind jump. Any longer than a few seconds is impossible without training. Some people never manage it.
I did it the first time I tried.
No, you didn’t. The youngest ever Daahsuti master was twenty-three – it takes years. And once you manage it, it can still take days to recharge for your next one. See all those kids? They practise on pigeons, mice, cats – but none of them can do more than a minute without falling out or dissolving.
Well, I’m eleven and I’ve done it loads of times. All kinds of animals too. Even my sister.
Oh, now I know you’re winding me up. I may be a rat but I’m not stupid. You’re telling me you can mind jump people now?
Why, is that meant to be harder?
Ha, yeah. Simple minds are easy, but humans have the most complicated brains of all. Only a few have ever cracked it. And I’m talking grand masters – ancient practitioners who have spent hundreds and hundreds of years meditating.
I did it by accident. Actually, my first few jumps were on people.
I don’t believe you. In fact, I don’t even believe you’re really a mind jumper at all.
Um, well, how do you think I got here?
Oh yeah, good point.
We came to the end of the shaft. There was a deep black shadow. We peered over the edge.
Right, it’s straight down from here. Ready?
Carefully we stepped forwards. Our back legs held on for a second – I think the rat’s instincts were kicking in. But they slipped and we fell, spinning in the dark, then thudded on to the metal of another floor.
Ouch.
Rats are pretty durable, don’t worry.
Ahead, some light was coming through another opening. We arrived, stood on our hind legs and leant against the shaft’s metal grill, wriggling and poking our head through. I saw another room, twice the size of the last one. It was gloomy in here and, on the floor, lined up in endless rows of wooden beds, people were sleeping. Children at one end, adults at the other.
What’s this room all about?
When you’re out practising, this is where your body sleeps. These are mostly elders. At the top are the masters. They’re out doing the most important work.
The men at the far end were all very, very old. Long grey beards, those weird old-people spots on their bald heads and thin, frail bodies.
There were more pigeon cages down here too. One robed girl, about thirty years old, took a bird then sat on one of the empty beds. She held it in her lap, then lay flat. After a couple of seconds, she closed her eyes and the pigeon leapt down on to the ground, and hopped along the room all the way to an empty fireplace at the far end. Then it flapped and disappeared up the chimney. Instead of wood and flames, there were feathers and bird droppings in the black fireplace.
Off she goes. Hey, see that skinny guy, down there, just to the left of the stone pillar?
Yeah?
That was my body.
Was? What happens to it now?
It’ll die soon and they’ll bury it. Can’t have long left.
(I definitely didn’t want that to happen to me. Starving to death didn’t seem ideal at all.)
Harsh. But wait, you don’t seem that old? Maybe twelve?
Thirteen.
So how come you can mind jump then?
I can only do about twenty seconds out of my body. Didn’t I explain? I’ve been exiled. It’s a punishment. Cold Rain made me jump into a rat, then he put me in a cell with no windows. So I was trapped. After an hour or so he let me out. But it was too late. I had lost the ability. Too much of me had dissolved into the rat’s mind. Now it’s just a matter of time.
That is really, really not OK.
Yeah, but what are you gonna do?
First, I’m going to find my body. Right, now where is it?
We squeezed through the vent grill and down into the sleeping room. As everyone was fast asleep, it wasn’t hard to check them all. We scurried along the cold stone wall at the head of the beds, looking down at each person. At first I thought these were mostly boys, but there were plenty of bald girls too.
Not me, not me, not me, not me, not me, not me, not me, not me, I thought as we checked every last one. None of them are me?
Bummer.
Where else might I be?
Only other place would be upstairs in Cold Rain’s quarters – in his personal cell.
Take me there.
Impossible. You need to open doors and stuff. You’d need better hands than these useless rat claws.
We looked down at our scruffy rodent form.
You’d need to blend in too – you have to go through the main hall to get to the stairwell. Rats aren’t allowed in there.
Please do it for me? Just jump into your body and open the door. I’ll scurry through.
I told you, I CAN’T mind jump any more. It’s been way too long. But you’re more than welcome to my body. Just bring it back in one piece – I want to be buried out in the orchard next to my grandfather.
That’s kind, but also super weird, I thought. You sure it’s cool?
It’s a great idea – you’ll look like everyone else. But don’t let Cold Rain see you up close. He’ll think it’s me and I’m in massive, massive trouble.
What did you even do?
I tried to read Wise Earth’s journal. I was curious about him – he’s a legend. They say he went crazy, but I’m not so sure.
Wise Earth? What’s with all these stupid names?
Wise Earth founded the star swimmers with Red Fire and Cold Rain. They’d be upset to hear you speaking ill of their names.
I don’t care. Pack of losers.
Anyway, story goes that Wise Earth killed Red Fire a few years ago, then disappeared. That’s why Cold Rain is in charge now. Apparently, things were much nicer around here under Wise Earth’s command. They had some argument about how to run the star swimmers. But, as I say, he’s long gone.
To be honest, I’m not really interested in the politics of all this. I just want my body back.
We scurried over to his body. His face was pale, his cheekbones sticking out below dark eye sockets. Although he looked sick, he seemed to be resting peacefully.
Right, Cold Rain’s quarters are on the top floor. Follow the red banners to the stairwell. Then it’s about twenty storeys up the tower and you can’t miss it. I’ll wait by the front door outside, near the steps. If anything goes wrong, just look out of the window and mind jump down to safety.
Thanks for the offer, but I’m not leaving here without myself. Hey, what was your name, before you joined these guys?
Um … I can’t … It … it was … Carlos?
Well, Carlos, thank you for your help. If you ever need a place to stay, you can come be my pet rat.
Sorry, who are you again?
*
I took a small breath out, looked at Carlos’s sleeping body and then, with that familiar whooshing sound, breathed in and opened my new eyes. I sat bolt upright in the bed and turned around. Behind me the small brown rat was trying to smile.
‘No, Carlos,’ I whispered. ‘Rats can’t really smile – that looks horrib
le.’
He squeaked. It must have been odd for him to see himself sit up and speak like this.
Having a human body felt amazing after all this time (it’s just not the same in Amy’s mind – there’s too much conflict and being a teenage girl isn’t really my thing). It’s a bit like stretching your legs after a long car journey, or cracking your back after leaning over for ages. It’s like, aaaaah that’s better. Still, as nice as Carlos’s body was – it was a) really skinny and b) not mine. Staying in there long-term was not an option.
So I sneaked from the sleeping room, teasing open the huge oak door at the end of the hall. There was a narrow, spiral staircase made from stone. The steps were shiny in the middle, where they’d been walked on, and rough at the edges. I ran up quickly, holding my white robe around my knees like a skirt.
Down a corridor and I was in that main room, walking through the thick smoke, past all the pigeons in their cages. One cooed at me. Another flapped its wings a few times.
‘Shh.’
To my left were the meditating kids, hundreds of them, all sitting cross-legged in total silence. It was weird seeing bald children. Right at the end was Cold Rain – he was the only one facing my way but, like the others, his eyes were closed.
I had to admit, the place was really peaceful and calm. Even the occasional noises from the pigeons didn’t spoil it. I could have chilled out there all day.
But I had places to be. I reckoned that as long as I stayed quiet, as long as everything stayed this relaxed, I could creep through and get to the stairs easily.
So I tiptoed carefully round to the door, following the red banners on the wall just like Carlos had told me. I heard a few noises in the next room, which stirred a couple of the meditating children nearby – one turned and looked at me, but nodded then looked forwards again and disappeared into himself.
Once I felt it was clear, I gently pulled open the main door. Creaking, creaking, creaking on rusted hinges, like a treasure chest. And there, standing in front of me with thick, strong black arms, was a silverback gorilla.
I looked at Tito, Tito looked at me. Then I turned back to the room full of silent men, women and children.
