"I' faith. I am, and so is someone who is lying on me."

"Sorry… Doll? Is that you?" It was the same rat voice which had been bemoaning its missing pack.

"Yes 'tis I, you fat swasher. I should have known by the familiar weight that it was you, Fal."

Chip cleared his throat, trying to clear away the constricting fear. "Let's have a roll call, guys."

"Piss off. Who do you think you are?" said another male-rat voice. Chip could tell, even in the dark. The male rats always had their vocal synthesizers adjusted to a low pitch, in the attempt to sound like real he-rats.

"I'm Connolly, rat. I'm a human, see. That means you take my orders."

"You've got more chance of falling pregnant, Connolly," groused the same voice. "You're not a whoreson officer, you're just a vatbrat."

Chip ground his teeth. There hadn't been a human reply yet. "Rat, I will pull your tail off, and then shove it down your throat until it comes out of your ass, if you give me any more lip. Now, who else is in here?"

There came a chorus of voices:

"BombardierBat Siobhan Illich-Hill."

"BombardierBat Longfang O'Niel."

"BombardierBat Cuchulain Behan."

As always, Chip thought the sound of an Irish accent coming out of their voice synthesizers was ludicrous, but the bats insisted on it.

"It is delusions of grandeur I think the human has," said another bat-Irish voice, leaden with resentment.

"Do you now, Eamon? Well, I think it is you who have the delusions. This is Senior BombardierBat Michaela Bronstein, Connolly."

Chip was relieved to hear Bronstein's voice. In some ways, he thought Michaela was even crazier than the other bats, but at least he'd always been able to get along with her.

"And, seeing as you want to know, I'm Melene, gorgeous." A rat-girl voice.