He paused, uncertainly and checked to see if there were any moving parts. There were, but they were intangible fields and stresses of space.
Then the mouse raced forward and passed through the silvery circle.
But did not come out on the far side.
A second mouse, watching, took a sigh of relief. The bait was still there. There had neither been cry of pain nor was there a captive warning the rest away in mouse-ese.
He, too, came to the trap, and entered, the odor from the rancid bacon drawing him with a magnetic force.
He, too, came to the silvery circle, passed through—into nothingness!
Came then another, and another, each pleased in turn that the bait was his alone for the taking. And as each one entered and disappeared, a tiny silent counter moved one digit higher.
Came morning....
And—
"Great Unholy Madness," exploded Peter. "If this is a rat-proof building, I am a Chinese policeman!"