It was called the ‘Rat’s Nest’ by those who knew where it was; an electronic database buried deep within the USMF mainframe that was a collection of information arranged in haphazard files and written in code that only military techs knew and few hackers had the talent to break. In the early twenty-first century, it would have been a treasure trove for any enemy nations that stumbled across the wealth of information it contained. Its original intention was as a time capsule of sorts; if New York were to fall, all data from the city could be retrieved and put to use.

It was also a hell of a way to spy on fellow soldiers. Neil navigated the organized chaos with ease, his electronic avatar poking its nose into new files and absorbing information for later perusal. Most of it was junk – credit card purchases, duty rosters and whatnot – but some of it was interesting; who would have thought, for example, that Captain Edwards and Major Elliot both shopped at Victoria’s Secret?

But it was a disappointing run, all in all. Oh, Neil had some interesting information to sell Ryan for use in his romance novels, and General Hein would have to be told about the soldier who had ‘borrowed’ a Copperhead to give his girlfriend a joyride, but nothing else really interesting. Which was bizarre when one lived in a world with aliens, giant rats, and werewolves.

Sighing, Neil disconnected from the database, then pulled off the headpiece that allowed him to link with the computer. Such is the life of an information broker, he thought, taking a sip of his coffee. This job had been much more fun before General Hein had decided to use his talents. Without the danger of being discovered, there was just no thrill.

Neil leaned back in his chair, swinging his feet up onto his desk. Really, he shouldn’t be doing this at all; it was what had nearly gotten him court-martialed from the military when he was stationed in San Francisco. Even though he’d managed to keep his place in the military, they’d sent him across the country so they wouldn’t have to deal with him again. Which had, admittedly, been a good thing, since San Francisco had fallen a few weeks later. He couldn’t resist it, though… he’d grown up in a military family where classified information such as the cause of his father’s death was never revealed, and ever since, he’d wanted information. Craved it. He despised not knowing things, when there was a chance something important to him was being kept from him.

Admittedly, it was possible to know too much. Did he really need to know that Captain Edwards had bought a pink thong? There was an image that was going to haunt him.

Neil leaned back until his head was almost upside-down over the low back of the chair. He supposed he should sort through the data he’d downloaded for Ryan’s use and then go to bed; the moon was full tonight, meaning General Hein was going to be preoccupied, and Neil was off duty…

Waitaminnit.. Neil blinked, wondering if all the blood rushing to his head was making him see things. Because it looked for all the world like three sets of beady, glittering eyes were staring at him from atop his bed.

He spun the chair around and faced the three large rats that were sitting on his sheets, their unsanitary little paws leaving dirty spots on the white linen. He resolved to burn those sheets, even though he’d get a lot of flak when he requisitioned more. "Get out of here!" he said, waving his hand at them. "Shoo!" He thought about pulling his pistol out of the drawer and shooting them, but the last time someone had fired their gun without authorization, they’d been on latrine duty for a month.

"It him! You smell?" one of the rats squeaked.

Neil blinked. "Did… did you just say something?"

"He not look like much. He have no fur!"

"He will! Old One say so!"

Neil decided he’d been working too hard lately. There was no way this could possibly be happening. In a way, it was kind of fun. Who hadn’t ever wanted to talk to animals when they were children?

"He smell like my mate did." One of them shuffled closer and rubbed its head on his fingertips.

Okay. Now it was getting bizarre. "That’s it; I’m going to the infirmary and getting some drugs." The rat licked his fingers. "Lots and lots of drugs. Because this can’t possibly… be…" He trailed off as it dawned on him just where the rat had licked: the puckered skin of the healed scar on his hand, where he’d been bitten by a rat. A giant rat that had been infected with lycanthropy…

"Get!" Neil yowled, smacking the sheets with the flat of his hand. The rats scattered, but not before the one who’d licked him gave him a look. Oh, good… she had a crush on him.

But a rat’s misplaced affections were the least of his concerns right now. They’d spoken to him – spoken to him! – and he’d understood. He rubbed the scar, scowling. Great… that’s just great. So I have been infected. He’d been avoiding Dr. Sid since the incident last month, afraid the old man would know, would make him face the truth. Dammit. There was something romantic about wolves, with their savage beauty and strength. Neil wouldn’t mind turning into a wolf. But… a rat?

He examined his hand closely, half expecting to see stubby toes and claws. But darkness hadn’t fallen yet; he still had an hour before he’d know for sure. No wonder Hein gave me the night off – he suspected this, and he just wanted to be sure. Bastard! He didn’t even have the courage to tell me!

So what was he going to do now? Should he find Dr. Sid, question him so he’d know what to expect? Hey, Doc, I’m going to turn into a giant rat tonight and I’ve already been visited by one who has a crush on me. Got any advice?

No; he’d have to figure this out on his own. It couldn’t be that bad, right? Dr. Sid handled it fine, and General Hein… well… He hadn’t killed anyone in an animalistic rage. So maybe Neil would turn out just fine. Maybe he wouldn’t turn into a giant, bloodthirsty pest like the one that had bitten him.

Neil crossed the room to his bed and threw himself backwards on it. There was nothing he could do now, except wait.

Well, that and clean off the nasty little surprise one of the rats had left on his pillow.

He didn’t know he’d fallen asleep until something scratched at his cheek. Neil grumbled and rolled to his side, but then something licked his lips and he snapped into wakefulness. The female rat from earlier was back. "Wake up," she chittered. "It time."

"Uck!" Neil yelped, wiping his lips on the back of his hand. "Will you quit that? I’m not your mate!"

"He bite you. Now you smell like him," she said matter-of-factly.

"Ugh…" Neil went into his bathroom, wondering if it was too late to go get a rabies shot. He’d turned on the faucet and had soaped up a rag before he glanced in the mirror. There was something not quite right about his face… and had he always had buck teeth? Oh, shiiii…

The change swept through him, a pain so excruciating it seemed to burn out his pain receptors until he felt nothing at all. With a squeak, he fell to all fours, tearing at his suddenly constrictive clothing. It seemed to take forever, but lasted only moments. The pain suddenly stopped, and he was staring down a long muzzle at the female rat, who had followed him into his bathroom.

"You a big one," she said approvingly, cocking her head back to stare up at him.

Neil could only stare at his huge forepaws, which weren’t quite rat feet. In fact, the size and shape were more reminiscent of Hein’s stubby-fingered wolf paws, but with a thinner coating of fur. His legs seemed longer than a rat’s, too; his belly was well off the floor. Neil reared onto his hind legs, rested his front paws on the porcelain sink and stared himself in the mirror.

He remembered the rat that had bit him, a monster that had had something of the wolf to its looks. Neil had those same characteristics: amber eyes, a broader, wolfish forehead, a slight point to his more upright ears, long legs, and a lean body.

"Now you come, yes?" the rat asked.

"What?" Neil asked distractedly. Was that really him? He touched his nose to the mirror and twitched his whiskers.

"Come see Old One," the rat said impatiently. "She wait for you!"

For a moment, Neil thought she meant Dr. Sid. But Dr. Sid wasn’t a ‘she,’ so that ruled that out. "What Old One?"

The rat heaved a long-suffering sigh. It was odd how human she sounded, now that he understood her. He suddenly felt guilty for all the times he’d put out rat poison. And for being partially responsible for the death of her mate. "Oldest rat. She say you come. I bring you. Follow."

With that, she waddled off, and he followed slowly. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do tonight, after all. But he’d draw the line at eating garbage…

When she paused by the air vent in his bedroom wall, however, he froze. "Go through this way," the rat told him.

Neil stared at her. "Um, maybe you can fit in there, but I can’t. I’m a bit bigger than you are!" Maybe his head would fit once he pried off the grate, but his shoulders would get stuck. And it had never occurred to him that rats used the air ducts as passageways; great, the vermin could have gotten into everything in his room, and he’d never know. Once he was human again, he was welding that grate shut and burning all his clothing. The requisitions office was going to hate him… But first, he was going to have to see what the ‘Old One’ wanted. Assuming he could get to her.

"You fit," she told him. "You rat. You squish." She demonstrated by squeezing through the impossibly tight space between the grate and the wall, where one corner had been loosed. Neil sighed; he had the feeling she wouldn’t leave it be until he proved he was too big to fit. He didn’t fancy a night stuck in an air vent, but if it would get rid of the rat… Neil dug his claws into the gap between the grate and the wall, and with a mighty heave, he pulled it free.

Wow. So all those stories about lycanthropic strength were true.

Neil stuck his head into the open space, wrinkling his nose at the musty smell. Improved sense of smell was not a perk. Resigned to his fate, Neil began to push himself into the small space, and was surprised as his body did, indeed, squish. Soon, his whole body was inside the narrow space, except for his long, skinny tail. It was a good thing he wasn’t claustrophobic; it felt as if the whole USMF building was pressing down on him.

"See? You fit. Now, follow." The rat set off at a brisk pace, and Neil followed behind, slowly.

He’d have to put his trust in the rat. He followed her every twist and turn, getting hopelessly lost in the process. He supposed he’d learn eventually to follow a scent trail, but right now, this was all too new. Neil made a noise that was half grumble, half squeak.

"What wrong?" the rat asked.

"This is all too weird," he said glumly. "I mean, I’m talking to a rat!"

"Why that weird? Humans talk. Rats talk, too. You just not understand before."

It had been years since anyone had actively studied rats. Had they been slowly evolving sentience while humans were busy fighting the war against Phantoms? Were they poised to take over the world if humans lost the war?

Comforting thought. "So, uh, the big rat that bit me was your mate?"

"Yes." Her squeaks sounded sad. "He get bite from bald dog, then he change. He smell bad, like he have disease. And he eat our children."

Suddenly, Neil didn’t feel so guilty about his death. "Then why do you trust me?"

"You not smell diseased. You smell different, but not tainted. Bald dog not smell tainted either. Not like black dog."

Neil froze. ‘Bald dog’ was obviously Dr. Sid, and the ‘black dog’ could only be General Hein. What did she mean that he smelled ‘tainted?’ He asked her, but she only responded by saying "That way."

A glance through the next vent showed him that they’d entered the women’s wing of the building. He ignored the sights until he heard a voice coming from a few grates down. It sounded like singing. And it sounded like… Jane? "Stop for a moment; I want to see something." He paused by her grate and peeked through.

She was dressed in a robe that had far more ruffles and frills than he would have expected on anything she owned. She was standing with her back to the grate, though he could clearly hear her surprisingly sweet, pure voice. "Oh my hero…" she was singing, and Neil pricked up his ears. Oh, this is interesting… When she shifted slightly, he could see she was singing to what looked like a stuffed octopus sitting on her chair. He wondered how he could use this to his advantage. "I’m the darkness…"

She’s sooo going to hear about this tomorrow. Who’d have thought that Jane liked opera?

"We go now?" the rat said impatiently. "The noise she make hurt my ears!"

Maybe he could sell the info to Ryan, and he could use it in the continuing romantic adventures of feisty female soldier Joan Quickfoot.

"Okay. Let’s go." They started moving again, more quickly now that Neil was getting used to squeezing himself through the tight duct. The female rat scampered ahead for awhile, then stopped.

"We go out here and have to get in different grate," she said. "Is big open space out there." She pressed her ear to the grate and waited a few moments. "Humans not out there. We go." She squeezed through another gap in the grate, and Neil wondered just how many grates had little ‘rat doors.’ Hein mentioned something about a Dr. Carter who liked to do unauthorized experiments… what if he’s been doing something to these rats? Because this is just way too strange!

He decided not to think about that now, but he’d bring it up with Hein later. He pushed against the grate until it popped out with a loud clatter, and Neil slipped out. He paused to stretch his legs, which had started to cramp up. His bones gave a satisfying pop, and then he finally looked around. "This is Dr. Sid’s lab, I think," he said conversationally to the rat.

She ignored him as she glanced around warily before sprinting across the open linoleum to crouch under a table. She shuffled along under the length of it, then sprinted to the gap between a cabinet and the floor. "Come!" she called back to him. "Stay hidden!"

And how the hell am I supposed to do that? he wondered. She could fit in the three inches of space under the cabinet, but he couldn’t. So, ignoring her admonishing squeaks, Neil strolled casually across the floor, claws ticking on the linoleum.

Then her squeaks became more alarmed. "Hide! Human come!"

Neil froze. He certainly had no desire to be seen like this. But where could he hide? There was no place for a human-sized rat! Desperately, he ducked behind a table, though he had no idea what he’d do if the person came around the side of the table and saw him. "Tail! Tail!" the rat warned him, and Neil mentally cursed as he realized most of his tail was in plain sight beyond the table. He pulled to his body with his back foot, just in time as Dr. Aki Ross entered the lab with a loud yell. "Sid! I’m back! I got the stupid bird! Where are you?"

There was a loud clatter as something was slammed onto the table above Neil. "Sid? Are you here? I thought you wanted to test the spirit!" She gave an exasperated growl. "Fine. We’ll do it tomorrow. I have better places to be than sit around here waiting for you."

Neil was relieved; if she’d decided to stick around and wait for him, she’d be here all night. As far as he knew, she had no idea that her mentor was currently spending his time in his room as a large, balding werewolf.

She left as noisily as she’d come, and Neil peered around the corner of the table just to make sure there was no one else in the lab. The rat began to squeak urgently at him to follow, but a fluttering noise from the table top caught Neil’s attention. He reared to his hind legs, staring in fascination at the bird in the cage. Its beady eyes fastened on him, and it gave a noisy chirp. Neil had never seen a living bird before, and he watched its rapid movements with interest. Why did Dr. Sid want a bird?

There was a label on the cage: SPARROW – FOURTH SPIRIT? Neil had no idea what that meant, but he was becoming aware of something else: this tiny, innocent creature was starting to look delicious. His stomach growled, and he began to salivate. What if Dr. Sid has Aki bring in animals for him to eat? He imagined crunching down on the bird, tasting its warm blood. And suddenly, he had to do it. Before his rational mind could reassert itself, Neil opened the cage, grabbed the bird, and popped it into his mouth. He crunched it absently as he followed the rat, who had watched all this with amazement. "You can open things!" she said, awed. He grinned, a sinister expression with blood and bits of feather still stuck in his teeth, and wiggled his stubby opposable thumb at her. "You will make good Rat King!" she continued excitedly.

"A… what?" Neil asked, wondering if he’d heard right. But she just ran towards another vent, this time waiting for Neil to pry the grate off. Clearly, she wanted to watch his thumbs at work.

"Not far now! Old One this way!" She was running now, and Neil had to push himself along as fast as he could to keep sight of her. He was surprised he could still see her at all – he seemed to have excellent night vision.

She paused at a gap in the roof of the duct, where a metal panel had fallen loose. Showing a surprising athleticism, she sprang up into the darkness above, and Neil followed behind. It was a tight fit; wires crisscrossed above him, and he could feel a tingle that made his fur stand on end: there was a bio-etheric channel close by. While the energy didn’t affect werewolves, and the giant rat in the city’s underbelly had handled it fine, being in such close proximity to the channel made Neil nervous. The rat seemed unbothered by this, however, for she ran along its length, and Neil could only follow suit.

Their journey ended in a wide open area lined with wires and littered with trash. Neil would have whistled in admiration if he could; this wasn’t so much a rat’s nest as a rat city. He could see bright little eyes peering out of dark places, watching him as he passed.

She led him to a gap between what looked like a hot-water pipe and an electrical conduit. There was a nest between them, made of shed fur, shreds of cloth, and shiny bits and pieces of things salvaged from who-knew-where. Neil suddenly realized where the phrase ‘pack rat’ came from.

Inside the nest was the most decrepit creature Neil had ever seen. Its patchy fur was gray, and its body was all skin and bones. White cataracts covered its eyes. "Wow… how old is she?" Neil asked with his normal lack of tact.

"She almost four years old," his companion said reverently.

Neil devoutly hoped a rat’s life span wasn’t part of his new lifestyle.

"Is this him?" The Old One asked. Her squeaks were surprisingly clear, not high – or higher, anyway – or quavery at all. She turned her blind eyes in his direction, twitching her nose.

"Is him," the younger female said reverently.

"Come closer. I need to smell you. I must know if you carry the taint." She spoke much better than the other rats, too. Neil leaned forward, and she touched her dry nose to his. She drew in a deep breath, taking in his scent. "You are free of the taint," she said after a long moment. "It does not hide in your blood."

Neil supposed that was reassuring. "What is the taint?" he asked.

"Badness," The Old One said, and shuddered. So did Neil’s young female guide.

Well, that doesn’t explain anything."Okay, so now that we’ve established that I’m free of this ‘taint,’ now what?"

"Now you become our leader, our Rat King."

Neil blinked. "Wha?" he asked blankly.

"The bad things that kill the humans kill us, too. We need someone who can protect us. I am too old."

"Uh…" Lovely. How was he going to get out of this? Neil could barely take care of himself half the time; how did they think he could take care of an entire population of rats? "You do know that I’m only in this body a few nights a month, right?" he asked. At least, he assumed that was true. That he could possibly be stuck in this form for the rest of his life didn’t bear thinking about.

"You will still hear us as a human. You can still help us. You can stop the bald dog and the black dog from eating us. You can tell us where humans put their poisons. You can warn us when humans plan to come to these tunnels to do things to these pipes."

That didn’t sound so bad. Neil had been half-afraid that they wanted him to take on the Phantoms single-handed to protect them. "I wouldn’t have to live down here?"

The Old One scoffed. "And fill our home with your human stink? No. You are more useful living with the humans."

Neil considered. It would mean extra work, but he could find most of the info the rats needed in the Rat’s Nest. And the rest, well, maybe he could just ask Hein and Sid not to eat rats?

"In exchange," the Old One continued, "we could tell you things that you would need to know. We rats can go where humans cannot."

In other words, they were willing to become his spy network. At first, he was skeptical; what could rats tell him? Then again, they seemed pretty smart. If he could train them what to look for, he could send them off, have them gather information… The potential was mind-boggling. Protect the rats, and he would know everything.

"All right. Let’s give this a try. You have yourself a Rat King."

The young female gave a delighted squeal. "I stay with him!" She rubbed her head on his paw. Oh, great… "I be messenger when he human!"

"So, where do I begin?" Neil wondered.

The Old One chittered, and a couple of younger rats came at her call. "You tell these rats what to do, so they’ll be useful to you. They’re the smartest ones here; they’ll serve you well."

Neil’s muzzle split into a snaggle-toothed grin. Maybe this would be fun, after all. With this, his own personal information network, he would know everything that went on in New York City. He could be more than just the Rat King… he could be the most powerful being in the city.

Heh… maybe I should seriously start thinking about world conquest…