“It is diabolical, Mitkey. I—I did not thingk mice could be so low—so low as some men, Mitkey.”
“Brofessor, I am ashamed of mine kind. I see now mine ideas of Moustralia, und men und mice liffing in beace—they vere dreams. I vas wrong, Brofessor. Budt no dime to think aboudt dreams—ve must act!”
“How, Mitkey? Shall I delephone der bolice und ask them to arrest —”
“No. Men can nodt stop them, Brofessor. Mice can hide from men. They haf hidden from men all their lifes. A million bolicemen, a million solchiers could not vind Vhitey der First. I must do it meinself.”
“You, Mitkey? Alone?”
“It iss for that I came back from der moon, Brofessor. I am as smardt as he iss—I am der only mouse as smardt as Vhitey iss.”
“But he has der vhite mice—der other vhite mice mit him. He has guards, probably. Vot could you do alone?”
“I could vind der machine. Der eggsnineteen brojector vot raised their indelligence. You see?”
“But vot could you do, Mitkey, mit der machine? They are already—”
“I could shordt-circuit it, Brofessor. Referse der derminals und shordt-circuit it, und it vould kick oudt in von flash—und make normal again all der artificially-raised indelligence mitin a mile from it.”
“Budt, Mitkey, you vould be there, too. It vould destroy your own indelligence. You vould do dot?”
“I vould, und I vill. For der vorld, und for beace. Budt I haff an ace up der sleefe, maybe. Maybe I get mine indelligence back.”
“How, Mitkey?”
Little gray man with his head bent low over a white-painted little gray mouse, the two of them discussing high heroism and the fate of the world. And neither saw that it was funny—or was it?
“How Mitkey?”
“Ve renew der vhite paint virst. So I can vool them und get by der guards.”
I vill be in or near der Hartford Laboratories, I belief—vhere Vhitey came from, und vhere he finds der other white mice to vork mit him.
“Und segund, also before I leafe here, I make another brojector, see? Und I raise Minnie’s leffel of indelligence to mine, und teach her how to oberate der brojector, See?”
“Und vhen I lose mine indelligence in shordting der machine at der laboratories, I still haff mine normal indelligence und mine instinct—und I think these vill brings me back here to mine house und mine Minnie!”
The professor nodded. “Eggcellent. Und der laboratories iss three miles avay from here, und der shordt vill nodt affect Minnie. Then she can restore you, hein?”
“Yess. I need vire, der vinest vire you haff. Und—”
Rapidly this time, the projector grew. This time Mitkey had help, expert help, and could ask for what he wanted instead of having to steal it in darkness.
Once while they worked the professor remembered something. “Mitkey!” he said suddenly, “you vere on der moon! I almost forgodt to ask you aboudt it. Vot vas it like?”
“Brofessor, I vas so vorried aboudt getting back, I did nodt notice. I forgodt to look!”
And then the final connections, which Mitkey insisted on making himself. “Nodt that I do nodt trust you, Brofessor,” he explained earnestly, “But it vas a bromise, to der Prxl scientists who taught me. Und I do nodt know how it vorks myself, und you vould nodt understand, either. It iss beyond der science of men and mice. But I bromised, so I make der connections alone.”
“I understand, Mitkey. Iss all right. But der other brojector, der vun you vill shordt—maybe somevun might find it und rebair der shordt?”
Mitkey shook his head.
“Iss hobeless. Vunce it is ruined, no vun vill ever make head or tail of how it vorked. Nodt effen you could, Brofessor.”
Near the cage—now with the door closed again—in which Minnie waited. The final wire, and a click.
And gradually, Minnie’s eyes changed.
Mitkey talking rapidly, explaining to her. Giving her the facts and the plans…
Under the floor of the main building of the Hartford laboratories, it was dark, but enough light came through a few cracks for the keen eyes of Mitkey to see that the mouse who had just challenged him was a white mouse, carrying a short club.
“Who iss?”
“Iss me,” said Mitkey. “I chust eggscaped vrom der pig cage ubstairs. Vot giffs?”
“Goot,” said the white mouse. “I vill take you to der Emperor of der Mices. To him, und to der machine he made, you owe your indelligence und your allechiance.”
“Who iss he?” asked Mitkey innocently.
“Whitey der First. Emperor of der vhite mices, who are der rulers of all der mice und layder der rulers of all der—But you vill learn all vhen you take der oath.”
“You sboke of a machine,” said Mitkey. “Vot iss, und vhere iss it?”
“In der party headquarters, vhere I now take you. This vay.”
And Mitkey followed the white mouse.
As he followed, he asked, “How many of us intelligent vhite mice iss there?”
“You vill be der twenty-virst.”
“Und all tventy iss here?”
“Yess, und ve are draining der slafe battalion of gray mice, who vill vork und fight for us. Iss now a hundred of them already. Der barracks is vhere they liff.”
“How far iss der barracks from der headquarters?”
“Ten, maybe tvellf yards.”
“Iss goot,” said Mitkey.
The last turn of the passage, and there was the machine, and there was Whitey. Other white mice were seated in a semi-circle around him, listening. “—und der negst moof iss to—Vot iss this, Guard?”
“A new recruit, Your Highness. He chust eggscaped, and he vill choin us.”
“Goot,” said Whitey. “Ve are discussing vorld blans, but ve vill vait until ve haff giffen you der oath. Stand by der machine, mit vun hand on der cylinder und vun hand raised tovard me, palm vorward.”
“Yess, Your Highness,” said Mitkey, and he moved around the semi-circle of mice toward the machine.
“Iss so.” said Whitey. “Der hand higher. Dot’s it. Now rebeat: Der vhite mice iss to rule der vorld.”
“Der vhite mice iss to rule der vorld.”
“Gray mice, und other creatures including men, vill be their slafes.”
“Gray mice, und other creatures including men, vill be their slafes.”
“Those who obchect vill be tortured und killed.”
“Those who obchect vill be tortured und killed.”
“Und Vhitey der First shall rule ofer all.”
“Dot’s vot you think,” said Mitkey, and he reached in among the wires of the X-19 projector and touched two of them together…
The professor and Minnie were waiting. The professor seated in his chair, Minnie on the table beside the new projector Mitkey had made before he left.
“Three hours und tventy minutes,” said the professor. “Minnie, do you subbose anything could haff gone wrong?”
“I hobe nodt, Brofessor…Brofessor, iss mice habbier mit indelligence? Vould nodt indelligent mice be unhabby?”
“You are unhabby, mein Minnie?”
“Und Mitkey, too, Brofessor. I could tell. Indelligence is vorry und drouble—und in der vail und mit all der cheese you pudt under der icebox, ve vas so habby, Brofessor.”
“Maybe, Minnie. Maybe only drouble do brains bring to mice. As to men, Minnie.”
“But men, they cannot help it, Brofessor. They are born that vay. If it vas meant for mice to be smardt, they vould be born so, iss not?”
The professor sighed. “Maybe you are a smardter mouse, effen, than Mitkey. Und I am vorried, Minnie, aboudt—Look, iss him!”
Small gray mouse, most of the paint worn off of him and the rest dirtied to his own gray color, slinking along the wall.