that

and surveillance

High-spine rattled with irritation. "The human called General Fredricks said this human was dead. We had asked them that he be sent to us."
"It appears they were mistaken, High-spine. An administrative error, it seems."
"And the humans do not kill those who make mistakes. A foolish Underphyle, like most such. Pass the information onto General Cartup-Kreutzler . . . no. Bring me a communicator."
"At once, High-spine."
Yetteth continued to clean up the mess from the floor-plates. Some human had irritated the Overphyle badly. He wished he could understand human. Some of the human slaves had been mind-wiped before being implanted, but some had not. If the Overphyle wanted to question them, they left their memories intact. One of those in his bunk-room still had her memories. Perhaps it would be worth the risk.
* * *
Jampad and rats, on the loose in an alien city.
Darleth had realized, very rapidly, that the new rat with the tail-stump was the kind who organized. Since Ariel had joined her band they had moved, rapidly, from being an idea in a Jampad mind, with two ratty followers, to being a band of some sixty rats. They had maps, bus routes, even some strange forms of arms. There were rules, "turf," and the human means of financial exchange. What they called "money." Darleth didn't understand it too well. You'd think anyone with a printing press could make it by the bucket. It seemed to have no value in energy terms either. It burned, but not well or very hotly. Nonetheless, Ariel was collecting the stuff, with which she traded, very successfully, with a human contact.
It was this human contact that also had given them their name. "The Ratafia." Darleth liked it. It was the name of a beautiful mountain district at n