He had seen it as a blazing burst of light, the night that he first beheld the Master Card. Touching it, he had had a vision what life could be like for him. From that moment, the purpose of his life was fixed.
But he needed living energy, lots of it. His own dimension, Ratislava, was a poor source, having few wizards, living or historical. He had since learned that power did not come from beings themselves, but rather from lines of force that crisscrossed the landscape. He needed to tap into people with the potential for magikal talent, until he had gathered enough to instill it in himself. But The Mall on Flibber—what was it the house agents always said were the three most important characteristics of the perfect piece of real estate? Location, location, location. Through the doors of this gigantic building, every day of the year, came thousands of beings from nearly every dimension, to buy goods from everywhere. The trait that made it possible for each of them to hop to an out-of-the-way land for the mere purpose of shopping? Magikal talent. They had it, in gobs, bunches, and tons. Rattila didn't merely want a piece of that, he wanted it all.
How easy it had been, to establish his headquarters there, in the last place the green ones would look. The basements had been roughed out in the natural caverns of the mountainside and never used once the builders of The Mall figured out that their shoppers didn't like to go underground. Rattila took the vacancy as another sign that fate meant to make his dreams of power and conquest come true.
He had found a ready-made workforce waiting for him, a people just desperate to be led forward into a glorious future. The mall-rats had been living such a pathetic existence when Rattila had arrived, second-class citizens in a world of several competing intelligent species. Most of them he let run wild under his direction. Nine of them showed special promise. He took those as his proteges.
While he knew that they weren't cut out for world domination, he had shown them how they could use their natural talents and inclinations to prosper, and enjoy an interesting and varied existence that let them wear a new face every day, several times a day, if they liked. All they had to do was whatever he said. They could use their free time and newfound wealth as they pleased. They served him enthusiastically. How much of a pity was it that they would never know or appreciate the power he was gaining through their actions? None at all. They did what they were told, and that was all he really cared about. For him, they were the means to an end. They would benefit, but he would rule over them, and every being in the overwork!. He was patient. His goal was within his reach. He listened once again to the words bumping around inside Strewth's head.
"So, we have visitors." Rattila said. "The Pervert might be fun to play with. He's so emphatic no one will question what he does. If we can turn him, he'll be very useful. The Troll... they never have any money, but who cares? He can carry a lot of booty for us. And that Jahk—now, she has possibilities."
"Not to mention all that bling-bling," Yahrayt added, showing his pointed front teeth. Rattila's red eyes shone.
"Ye-ees," Rattila breathed greedily. He waved a hand, and visions of the Jahk Massha's wealth rotated in the air before their eyes. Rings! Necklaces! Earrings! Anklets! Bracelets! Bejeweled, engraved, damascened, twisted, wrought, linked, and braided, and all of them brimming with magikal potential. What was the use of having power if you never used it for something you enjoyed?
"All that lovely jewelry for you, and all the power for me."
Oive, Mayno, and Garn went so far as to try and touch the illusion. Rattila swept it away with one wave of his paw.
"Awww!" they protested.
"You want to see it again?" Rattila snarled. He pointed at the ceiling. "Go get the real thing! Bring it here. Everything there belongs to us! Bring it to me. All of it!"
The others looked around. Wassup blinked stupidly.
"We don't have enough already? This place is full."
The others groaned. Wassup had a way of taking all the wind out of their sails.
"And you call yourself a mall-rat, eh?" Mayno asked, twirling his long black whiskers in disdain. "Nevair do we have enough. The pursuit is all."
"You're just no good at analytical thinking," Garn sneered, polishing her long claws on her fur.
"Ana-what?" Wassup blinked. "Like, I'm totally confused."
Oive groaned. "So, what else is new?"
"What do we want?" Rattila demanded.
"More! More! More!" the rats chanted.
"All right!" he said, grinning. "Who's got something for me?"
Oive pushed forward, a bag clutched between her slim pink paws. "Pretty, pretty," she cooed.
Rattila could sense the magik from the short distance.
"Give it here." From the red-beaded handbag he drew a new, bright orange credit card. "Barely used," he complained.
"Can't help that," Oive piped nervously. "I mean, like, I could wait until it got used more, but then I wouldn't have gotten it. Like, do you get that?"
"Good thought," Rattila praised her. The mall-rat was overjoyed as he tossed the empty purse back to her. By the Big Cheese itself, they were easily pleased.
"Let's see how much of its owner's essence it's managed to absorb anyhow."
Rattila put the card to his forehead. By the power of the Master Card underneath his Throne of Refuse, he had the power to be the Card Reader. Visions began to crowd his vision, full of linoleum and chintz.
"Kazootina. An Imp, husband, dealer in used wagons, three children, favorite color sky-blue-pink." Typical of an Imp, couldn't even like a real color. "Belongs to a bowling league. Cheats a little. Good. Loose morality will make it easy to intrude on her reality. Yes. She'll be a good addition to our stable."
"I want her!" Garn shouted.
"No, me!" Oive shrilled. "I found her."
"You'll all get her," Rattila said, opening one eye. "You idiots know that!"
Wassup looked hurt. "You don't have to call us names."
"Settle down," Strewth ordered, turning a large beady eye on his associates until they quieted.
Rattila watched him with alarm. If he had to worry about any of his subordinates, Strewth was the one. He seemed brighter than the others, and observed more closely. Perhaps, if the day came when Rattila had achieved his purpose and no longer required The Mall, he would leave his domain to Strewth. But if he interfered with Rattila's scheme at all—slllcch! The street-cleaners upstairs would find yet another pathetic little body, which the puffy-pantsed guards would be at a total loss to explain.
Strewth nodded to Rattila and crouched down in a submissive manner, which Rattila completely distrusted. But he could wait no longer. He plunged a claw down into the Throne of Refuse, past the mouldering fish bones, past the wadded-up aluminum foil, past the square of gray-white chocolate with spoiled raisins, to the glowing heart of his power. The solid gold rectangle clung to his pads as he drew it forth. He could feel its store of power almost burning his flesh. He could see the gauge in his mind—the card was 75 percent full. So near to world domination, and yet so far. The card yearned to break free and rule all existence. All it took was the right magician to wield it, and Rattila knew he was the one.
"One day, my pretty, one day," he whispered.
The card burst with golden light, increasing the paltry glow that illuminated the Rat Hole a hundredfold. He touched the newfound credit card to it, and snarled at his subjects.
"Now, chant!" he ordered.
Their eyes fixed on the Master Card, the mall-rats broke into a singsong.
"One Card to rule The Mall, One Card to Charge It, One Card to cruise The Mall, and in the darkness Lodge It."
"Again!"
"One card to rule The Mall, One Card to Charge It, One Card to cruise The Mall, and in the darkness Lodge It!"
"I can't heee-aaar yeww!"
The mall-rats repeated the litany, over and over, until Rattila could feel the new treasure warming and flowing. The Master Card seemed to reach out tentacles to surround it, sucking its essence into the golden light. For a moment the orange card was an empty husk. Then, he let a little power trickle back, his power. Kazootina belonged to him now! The housewife from Imper had just joined Rattila's Raiders.