After they’d wandered through the debatable lands an hour in the dark, a thunderous eruption roared just next to his ear. Chip dived for cover.
Eamon had the grace to sound embarrassed. “Sorry. ‘Tis that bedamned bottled sauerkraut.”
Chip stood up. The bats had taken to the pickled cabbage in big way. “I’ve come to tell you that we’ve found the smell of much food,” said Eamon.
“With luck there won’t be any more ruddy sauerkraut,” Chip muttered. He sighed. They would not just come and inform him for fun, or out of politeness. “Where? Is it far? Must I come and carry?”
“You must come to council,” said the big bat sententiously. “We need to talk.”
Now Chip’s suspicions were truly aroused. “Why?”
“Because it is inside the Maggot tunnels.”
Chapter 15: The great pantry raid.
“So . . . you say somewhere down inside there, there is lots of food.” Chip pointed to the tiny aperture, about a finger-width in size in the side of the Magh’ mound. It looked like a black speck in the moonlight. Chip put his nose to it. It had the typical Maggot-tunnel fungus-and-hint-of-Gorgonzola whiff. He was damned if he could smell anything exceptional about it. “You’re sure?”
Fal raised his eyes heavenward. “Your nose is not worth a gooseberry, Chip! If it were written in ten-foot neon letters, it couldn’t be clearer. Some of it is spoiled. Down there lies the Maggot’s pantry.”
Chip shrugged. “So. What are we going to do about it? I’d say that in there it is out of our reach.”
Eamon spread his wings. “If we could get in, we could fly down, raid their store and be away, with the Maggots none the wiser. We bats are the quietest of fliers. We can drift in, silent as autumn leaves.”
“Unsmelt by any Maggot,” said Chip, waving his hand in front of his nose. “Phew, are you rats sure that ‘spoiled’ bouquet is coming from down that hole? If you ask me, it’s the inside of Eamon that has gone bad.”
“Um. That was me, actually,” Bronstein admitted quietly, in the reluctant voice of the inherently truthful. “That is one of the reasons we need other food.”
Chip wrinkled his nose. “Best reason I’ve come across yet. Mind you, I still think you’re crazy. Listen, you’ll be caught for certain.”
“Indade, you would be caught,” said Eamon, dripping scorn.
“We know it is risky. To be sure, otherwise we’d just have done it.” Bronstein’s tone was more conciliatory.
“Ha. Methinks they just called you because they couldn’t work out how to get in through the mound-wall,” said Doll, “otherwise they’d have just gone ahead, instead of telling you about it.”
There was a brief, embarrassed silence.
“No!” and “Never!” said two bats with equal insincerity.
“Oh well, in that case,” said Chip, “as you don’t need anything from me, besides help in your decision, I say ‘do it.’ Don’t let me stop you. Now, can I go back to the farmhouse?”
There was a longer silence, finally broken by Bronstein. “Damn you, loudmouth rat!” She flapped her wings with irritation. Then, sighing: “All right, Chip, how do we get in?”
“Well . . .” Chip looked at the wall. Tapped it. It was brick hard. He breathed in deeply. Stuck his hands into his pockets. Encountered something. Pulled out the packet he’d thrust into his pocket in the workshop, earlier. “As it happens I have just the thing here. Unfortunately, I’m going to need to go back to the workshop and fetch a drill and a piece of wire.”
Among the many, many things which Chip had always wanted and known he’d never get around to owning was an electric screwdriver. He’d spotted one, back at the workshop, as well as a little case of ninety-six “useful” bits for it. Of course the only two really useful ones were missing, but obviously the mechanic had had little use for drill bits. Those were still all there.
With those and a piece of wire, Chip came striding back. He’d show them.
The battery pack of the neat little cordless screwdriver lasted about thirty seconds. He cursed. Fortunately—so to speak—the dinky gadget could be reset for manual operation. The drill struggled to bite into the hard Magh’ adobe. It wasn’t brick or concrete, but it was as hard as hardwood. Chip went on drilling and swearing in darkness. Eventually he got through. Then he did it again.