"Your idea?"
"Yes, the Star Cat Project."
Maar and Dimitry turned to each other. "You want us to give you an update on your findings from January?"
"Yes, if you would."
"Are we correct in thinking that you’d consider the Opera Beta mission if we had made progress with it?"
Tripp smiled in no uncertain terms that he had them backed into a corner. All he had to hear was that they’d made up some excuse for not making progress. That, in not so many words, they thought he was out of his mind.
Tripp could then make his own excuses and leave the room - and the job of commandeering Opera Beta to someone else.
"Okay, Tripp," Maar snapped his fingers. "Manuel?"
A holographic book with The Manuel printed in a sans serif font on the cover hovered above the desk. The book flipped its pages, ready for action. "Yes, Maar?"
"Show our friend Tripp Healy, here, the progress we’ve made with the Star Cat Project."
"Certainly, Marr."
"Huh?" Tripp was confused. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was ready to leave once and for all.
"Observe," Manuel displayed a vector image of Space Opera Beta above the table. It rotated slowly, offering all the board members a view of the vessel from every conceivable angle.
"In 2118, Space Opera Beta will perform two functions. One, it will attempt to recover what remains of Space Opera Alpha. Two, it will try to decode Saturn Cry. This time, they are taking one specimen of a domesticated household cat with them…"
One thousand tiny video playbacks of cats of all shapes and sizes meowed from within the vessel.
Tripp turned in shock to Dimitry, and then to Maar. "Are you for real?"
"Uh-huh," Maar smiled back. "See how much we respect your judgment?"
Manuel continued. "Although embargoed, the hunt is on for the purrfect feline companion—"
"—my little joke, there," Dimitry whispered to Maar. "Purrfect. Get it?"
"Shh, let Manuel speak."
Tripp watched Manuel display a splice-cut vectorgram of an American bobtail cat.
"In the months of research USARIC has taken as a springboard from Tripp Healy’s findings, we have ascertained the following…"
A list of the following criteria flashed up on the screen.
"One," Manuel continued, "The cat must be female. Two, she must be unsterilized, or otherwise free from interference. Three, she must be aged between three and five years. Finally, four, she must weigh between five and ten pounds."
"What’s that about not being sterilized?" Haloo asked.
"Because if we encounter any new lifeforms, we don’t want her to be constrained by modification."
"What, in case an alien decides to probe her?" Haloo smirked. "I hadn’t realized we were so influenced by popular culture and science fiction."
Dimitry wasn’t too impressed with the woman’s flippant remark. "Haloo Ess, this simple list of conformity is vital to a successful mission."
"Whatever you say, Dimitry. You’re the boss."
"Yes, I am," he threatened, "And don’t you ever forget that. Continue, Manuel."
"I do believe I am finished," the book said, slapping its pages shut. "As we speak, we are making a commercial to show to a select few citizens to find the most appropriate candidate."
Tripp leaned back in his chair. He was very impressed.
"I have to say, I am impressed. You’re seriously considering my research?"
"Indeed we are," Dimitry said. "In an attempt to maintain the Bering Treaty and keep our two nations’ relationship as strong as can be, we have decided to follow your recommendations. We will be the first to put a cat in space."
Tripp stood up and patted down his collar. "In that case, I guess you’ve got yourself Opera Beta’s commander."
"You’ll do it?"
"You bet your Russian behind I’ll do it, Dimitry."
Everyone chuckled politely at the vaguely xenophobic remark. Typical of Tripp. Always joking around in the face of adversity. Or, in this case, conformity.
USARIC had proved themselves worthy allies in his mind. The money wouldn’t go amiss, either. History was about to be made in more than one way.
The United States and Russia’s confederacy were sending a rescue vessel. With a cat on board.
Yes, more than one piece of ground would be broken.
"I think we need to broaden our scope in looking for the right candidate, though."
"That’s something that will have to be taken up with the select committee, Tripp," Maar said. "You know that. It could take a few weeks."
Dimitry chimed in, backing up his colleague. "We’d rather keep this limited to a few participants."
"I want to make it absolutely clear," Tripp said. "That we are doing ourselves a huge disservice in not opening this up to every cat on the planet. We could miss someone special…"
CHAPTER FIVE
Star Cat
One Month Later…
Emily watched her son play with his cat in the front room. Jelly held out her claws, trying to catch Jamie’s telescope.
"Haha," he said, teasing her with the plastic contraption. "Silly cat, c’mon. You can get it—"
—Meow," she tried to paw it again but was too slow.
A tear rolled down her cheek as she watched them play. She had some devastating news to relay to her son. Another few seconds of play wouldn’t hurt, though. She felt her forearm with her fingers and tried to sooth the pain.
"C’mon, Jelly," he held out the extended telescope in his hand. "Kill it."
Swipe.
She grabbed the thin end with both paws and yanked it from his fingers, falling to her side. Her hind legs spun around as she dug her feet into the plastic in an attempt to kill it.
"Poppet?"
"Yes, mom?" Jamie turned around to see her desperately upset. "Why are you crying?"
***
I always knew my Dad was going to die. He told me after he got sick and went to the hospital.
After a while I started to not believe him. He said every day was a gift, and I don’t know what he meant by that. Because he was in a lot of pain and the doctors and nurses gave him drugs to make him feel better.
But days went by and I kept on seeing him. Maybe he wouldn’t die after all. Then, one day, he did. And now I don’t have a daddy.
I guess I’m supposed to feel sad and when my mom told me I cried a lot. But I am happy he isn’t in pain anymore because that was horrible.
I don’t want my mom to be lonely so I have to be strong for her because she is upset and cries a lot. She pretends not be sad and I know she is worried about me and thinks I am upset.
Jelly is with us now and I know she is not a human being so it’s not the same thing. But she walks and talks. She can fight. She makes me really happy. Sometimes when I look at her I think maybe my dad is in there somewhere, like she’s carrying his soul around. That’s a really terriful thing to say and I would never say it to my mom because it would just make her sad.
Jamie lowered his forearm and swiped the ink to the left. He recorded the message a few days after the event.
Mom was passed out on the couch. Several empty bottles of wine littered the coffee table. For the first time since his father’s passing, Emily was finally asleep.
Snoring like a banshee with a broken ankle.
Jelly had no idea what was happening in the Anderson family household. She continued about her day much as you would expect.
Eating, drinking, defecating, and sleeping.
Of course, she’d experience mad half-hours, as Jamie called them. Urine-colored eyes were the first sign that she was about to go bonkers.
And bonkers she went. In a big way.
Darting out of the newly-installed cat flap and up that lone tree. Chasing her tail. Darting up the stairs and back down before rolling over and licking herself.
No end of fun.
Dusk fell on this perfect Saturday
evening.
In the communal garden, Jamie busied himself with Jelly, tossing the ball back and forth against the wooden fence.
Another remarkable thing about this warm, breezy evening was that there were no drones to be seen. As if they’d been given the evening off.
"Hey, Jelly," Jamie rolled the ball along the ground. "Kill the ball."
Instead of engaging in the activity, her attention was drawn to the hedge opposite the apartment building.
"Girl, what are you doing?"
She lowered herself and bushed-out her tail, having spotted a shuffling occur within the hedge. For the first time ever, her internal engine rumbled.
She remained perfectly still, never tearing her gaze away from the hedge.
"Jelly?"
"Grrr…"
"What are you—"
Then, Jamie saw what she saw. Another cat. Some ghastly, black-and-gray Persian monstrosity, meandering around. It wasn’t long before the Persian saw Jelly. The two poised to strike each other in an unusual catty stand-off.
"Jelly, no…"
The two crouched down onto their haunches. Which of the two would strike first?
Jamie took a couple of steps backwards, deeply curious as to how the events would play out.
Persian, whatever his or her name was, gave as good as she got. Making evil eyes at the orange ball of feline waste in front of her.
Jelly’s claws pushed out very, very slowly.
Persian’s did the same, along with her flapping tail - the end of which lapped at the ground like a wonky skipping rope.
It was only a matter of time before the inevitable kicked in.
To be clear, Persian threw the first punch.
The two ran at each other like jousting madwomen. Persian swiped at Jelly’s face, catching the tip of her ear.
She tumbled into the hedge and squealed. But her fall from grace didn’t last for more than a couple of seconds.
The two cats tussled, barreling over each other, tearing clumps of fur away from each other. Loud hissing came from both sets of lungs.
Jelly ravaged her foe from above. Her hind legs dug into the cat’s stomach, kicking her away.
"Jelly, bad girl," Jamie said. "Leave her alone."
Jelly paid little attention and threw a snarky “meow” to her owner as the two felines threatened to go at it.
"Leave her alone, girl," Jamie said.
Jelly snarled at him, essentially telling him to stay out of it.
Persian, on the other hand, sported an impressive cut on her face. Jelly had really gone to town on her.
Would the fight continue?
Did Persian want Jelly to come at her?
Evidently not. She turned around and disappeared into the hedge, defeated.
"That wasn’t nice, Jelly," Jamie said, scooping her up into his arms. "That’s someone else’s cat."
"Hissss…"
"Hey!" Jamie screamed, tempering the bad pussy cat in his arms. "Bad girl. Don’t you ever hiss at me."
Jelly calmed down. Jamie’s scent wafted under her nostrils. She couldn’t attack Jamie, nor would she ever. He was much bigger than her.
"Mwaaar," she apologized.
***
The roof of the apartment block was Jamie’s sanctuary. A five-year-old boy had no business being seven floors up and risking certain death if he were to fall.
His mother certainly had no idea he went there. She’d have kittens if she ever found out.
Tonight, though, she wouldn’t. She was passed-out on the couch.
The moon was full.
A glorious view of Chrome Valley’s lights lay beneath the blanket of stars in the sky.
Jamie sat crossed-legged on the stones next to the air vent. He tapped his telescope in his palm, lamenting the time he took apart his drum kit.
Jelly sat next to him as they marveled at the sight.
"Look at the stars, Jelly."
"Meow."
Jamie looked at the moon through his telescope. "See that? That’s the moon."
Jelly looked up with him. Jamie turned to her and saw the big ball of white reflected in her right eye.
"Meow."
"You know, there’s a great big place on the moon where astronauts go. One day that’ll be me. I’ll go there and be an astronaut."
"Meow."
The distant hum of a busy city rumbled under their behinds.
Sirens, cars, the odd chant from a drunk reveler… quite the contrast to the relative silence coming from the roof of the building.
Jamie lowered his telescope and spotted a shooting star. "Look, Jelly."
She caught the streak of light tearing a temporary strip in the black canvas. "That’s a shooting star."
"Meow."
Recent events in Jamie’s life became the focus of his attention. His father’s passing chief among them.
"Come here, Jelly."
She obliged her master and walked onto his lap. He stroked her head and stared back at him.
"Dad’s up there, somewhere. Maybe if I go up I’ll find him."
"Meow."
"I never noticed it before, but you’re really pretty," he said to the cute ball of fluff enjoying the fuss he made of her. "Such a gorgeous cat."
"Meow—"
"—and a vicious little animal, too."
Jelly began to purr and nestle in his lap.
"Don’t get too comfy, girl. We better get down before mom realizes we’re gone."
The front door to the apartment creaked open, slowly.
Gently…
Jamie poked his head through the door. His mother was still asleep on the couch.
An old movie played in the holocenter in the middle of the room.
"Okay. We’re safe. Go in, girl."
Jelly raced between his legs and darted into the front room. She tried to attack the hologram movie as it played out, but ended up walking through the image.
Jamie chuckled and closed the door as gently as possible. "Ha, silly animal."
"Meow."
"Shh, Mom’s sleeping."
Ka-boom.
Jelly jumped in the air, startled by an explosion in the movie. She flipped back and knocked the Star Jelly ornament from the table.
"Meow."
"Bad cat," Jamie whispered at her. "Why don’t you calm down?"
Jelly tilted her head, as if to say “What are you talking about? Me? Calm?”
"Yes, you," he said, nodding at her basket. "Go on, get into bed."
Jelly did as she was told. She made herself comfortable amongst the fluffy cushions and took the opportunity to lick herself down.
"Ugh, that’s disgusting."
The movie faded to black as Jamie bent over to pick Star Jelly off of the floor.
He clutched it in his hands and straightened his back.
A holograph of a man dressed in a white lab coat walked through the coffee table. The start of a commercial.
"Huh?" Jamie moved out of the man’s way. A large, spinning USARIC logo appeared by the ceiling light. "What’s this?"
The man smiled and held out his hand, introducing footage of various cats in states of action and play.
"Do you own a cat?" asked the man to no one in particular.
"Yes—" Jamie whispered.
"—If so, USARIC, the United States and Russian Intergalactic Confederation, needs your help."
Jamie watched the man vanish into thin air. The footage fizzed out and showed a vector image of an American bobtail.
The man’s voice continued to narrate as various diagram notes appeared around the vector scope.
"We are on the hunt to find the most suitable domesticated feline for the first ever cross-species manned flight into space," he said.
"What the—" Jamie blinked in amazement as the vector shape-shifted into a real-life cat. Actors playing doctors pretending to perform a medical check-up on the feline.
Dramatic music kicked in.
"The selected cand
idate will receive a lifetime of fully comprehensive insurance. Her owners will be awarded two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand dollars."
"Wow," Jamie was staggered by what he saw. "A quarter of a million—"
"Entry criteria is simple and subject to official verification. One, your cat must be female."
Jamie focused his eyes through the holographic commercial and looked at Jelly. "Yes."
"Two, she must be unsterilized."
"Yes."
Jamie moved through the commercial as it played out. He looked down at Jelly and nodded.
"Three, she must be aged between three and five years."
"Oh my—" Jamie blinked at Jelly. She blinked back at him.
"Four, she must weigh between five and ten pounds."
"Uh-huh."
Jamie turned back to the commercial, his little cognitive engine putting several two-and-twos together.
"Mom, mom," Jamie hopped over the coffee table and pushed her legs. "Wake up. Wake up."
She snorted and licked her lips, failing to break out of her drunken slumber. Jamie turned around as he kept pushing her. "Mom—"
"Meow," Jelly looked at the narrator’s image appear in the middle of the room.
"Could your cat be the first feline in space? If she conforms to the entry criteria, and you wish to take part in this groundbreaking advancement in space exploration, please visit StarCatProject on all Individimedia channels and enter your pet today."
Jamie turned to Jelly, full of excitement. "Jelly!"
"Meow."
The USARIC logo expanded and glowed in the center of the room. "USARIC’s Star Cat Project. The prowl is on."
"Pause!" Jamie yelled at the logo. It froze solid above the coffee table. He turned back to his mother and shook her to life.
She wiped her eyes and yawned, miles away from orientation.
"Mom, mom—"
"—What is it, poppet?"
"Quick, look," Jamie turned to the paused commercial without delay.
"What is it?"
"I want to show you something," Jamie turned to the USARIC logo. "Replay commercial!"
It’s time for you to start the journey of a lifetime.
Star Cat: Origins Page 4