Rats are getting smarter.
Is intelligence dangerous?” Sam asked, as if it was the most pressing question in history. His face held a peculiar expression, as if he was struggling to suppress a smile, and his body was trembling slightly.
I looked at him, puzzled. Sam was an enigma, a person I could never fully comprehend despite our lifelong friendship. Sometimes, I found myself questioning why I even engaged in conversation with him. He was the type of guy to cry because the sun will explode in the future or think about the most irrelevant question in the most irrelevant times.
“Intelligence is a gift. Keep working, you fool,” I retorted, picking up another piece of dirt.
We were both engaged in a crucial task - collecting evidence from the earth and its insects. I was far from content. My wife was expecting our first child, who could arrive any day now. Yet, here I was, sifting through ancient animal poop. My frustration was palpable, and it seemed I was the only one feeling this way.
“Intelligence might be a curse,” I heard Sam murmur. He continued speaking, but I was too preoccupied with trying to count to 10 without losing my temper.
Why do you think intelligence is a curse? Thanks to it, we are the strongest in the world,” Max asked, his voice filled with curiosity. I was counting to 20 when Sam started speaking. He had a smile on his face, and I knew he would be talking for a while. I wasn’t angry with Max; it wasn’t really his fault. Max was the newest member of our group and the youngest. He was what you would call a prodigy who finished his career early. He came from Mexico, and we always laughed at his accent and way of speaking.
“I’m glad you asked,” Sam said, and then continued, “Why are we the only animals that question the meaning of life? Why are we the only ones that ponder what happens after death? Why are we the only ones that fight over things as trivial as sex, skin color, nationality, and much more? Why do we create nuclear weapons to kill our own kind? Because we are intelligent!” Sam finished with a shout. I was seriously considering ending it all until I saw Max’s expression. He looked like he was deep in thought.
Stop, guys. Today is our last day here before we go back home. Let’s do our best,” Rachel, our boss, said. We continued working. Maybe that’s why I didn’t notice when Sam whispered something in Max’s ear and handed him a jar.
The next morning, we were already on the plane. Max was sitting to my right, his expression unreadable. “It would be dangerous if animals gained intelligence,” he said. “That would be correct,” I replied, “Why are you asking?” “I discovered something, and I’m afraid I shouldn’t have,” he said. He looked nervous, pale, and had bags under his eyes. He hadn’t eaten today. Something was wrong with him.
“After my son is born, can we talk?” he asked. I nodded. I punched him lightly on the shoulder. “You’re still young. Don’t think too much about what Sam said. He’s just an idiot.”
On the fourth of April, my son was born. He was a healthy boy and looked just like my wife. It was a happy day, but don’t ask my wife because she will lie and say that I cried that day.
“Dear, I’m going to see Max,” I yelled. “Okay, just check if the rats have already eaten the poison,” she replied. We had been having a problem with rats in our house for weeks, so my wife put squares of rat poison on the floor while our son was at his grandmother’s house. We didn’t want anything to happen to him. When I checked, the poison was gone. “Yes, dear, the rats have eaten the poison,” I confirmed.
I visited Max’s house and was surprised to see Sam there. “Sam, what are you doing here?” I asked. He replied, “I just had a little problem with Max. He also asked me to help him take care of the rats.” He opened his palm, revealing a rat that was oddly calm. “Okay, I’ll just go. See you on the weekend,” I said. “See you,” he replied.
Before I even knocked, the large wooden door swung open forcefully, and Max grabbed me by my shirt. “You took so long to come,” he said. “Babies take a long time to sleep,” I replied, maintaining my calm demeanor with a happy puff.
“Man, I haven’t seen you in some days. I have so much to show you. There’s no time, come with me,” Max said. We walked into the house and he entered a room. “Do you remember what Sam said about intelligence?” he asked. “What did I tell you, amigo?” I said, using the Spanish word for friend, which always made Max laugh. Max is a peculiar guy, but that’s just how he is. I heard he grew up in some sort of animal cult.
No, it’s weirder. Some days ago, scientists noted that animals have been growing more intelligent. It started with small animals, but Sam thinks it will eventually affect larger ones. He gave me something the other day,” Max said. “What?” I asked. “A rat,” he replied. “Look at this,” he said, showing me a page filled with mathematical equations. “Did you do this?” I asked. “No, the rats did. My house is infested, but I didn’t think they could understand human language until I found a message on my wall.”
We finally arrived at the wall where the phrase “We are getting smarter” was written. “This isn’t funny, Max. You used to make funnier jokes,” I said. “It’s not a joke. I have been checking the performance of rats and I discovered something. The rats in all the state have grown exponentially smarter and will continue to do so. Think about it - tigers, lions, hippopotamuses - they will all just grow smarter,” Max said.
“You’re insane. I’m going home,” I said. “Wait, please,” Max pleaded, but I didn’t want to hear more. I just wanted to go home. When I arrived, I noticed the eerie silence. I had hoped my son would be awake by now. I just wanted to see him again. He was such a cute baby. “Dear, I’m home,” I called out.
I stopped in my tracks when I saw my wife lying on the kitchen table. She had some food in her hands, but I recognized the signs - she had been poisoned. Her face, in a strange way, looked like it had been bitten off by tiny mouths, like those of rats.
My hands started trembling and before I knew it, I was already in front of my son’s bedroom. I opened the door and there he was, sleeping soundly as if his mother wasn’t lying lifeless in the kitchen.
I picked him up, reassuring myself that everything was alright, that my beautiful wife wasn’t dead, and that everything was just a nightmare. That’s when I saw it - a group of rats in the crib. They were biting in circles and moving fast fighting each other . I was scared and disturbed. I ran out of the bedroom in a fast movement and locked the door, taking a quick glance at my son.
I noticed his temperature was higher than normal and his breathing was irregular. He was sick. I needed to go to the hospital, call the police, and see Max. Before I could continue, I heard the door clicking. The door opened slowly and I saw the rats. They were looking at me. They managed to open the door and ran down the stairs in the direction of Max’s house.
if someone has to know what to do it will be him