Star Cat The Complete Series

by Andrew Mackay

  The handler folded her arms and hugged herself in floods of tears. "Yes."

  "Honestly, I told them not to infuriate the cats. But would they listen? No."

  She reached into her inner pocket and pulled out a small syringe.

  Two medicians ran through the door and sprung into actions. One of them pushed an ECG monitor on a trolley over to the bed. She unpacked two pads and fired up the machine.

  "Her heart’s climbing out of her throat," the other medician said, "Checking pulse."

  "One-fifty over one," said the first medician as Wool injected the cat with her syringe, "One fifty-two, one fifty-three…"

  "Three emm-gee," Wool tried to keep her composure as she watched Bisoubisou’s monitor. Her heart was near exploding. She turned to the battered infinity claw and prised it away with her fingers as carefully as she could. It unfastened in Wool’s hand.

  "Ugh, got it."

  She passed the infinity claw to Bisoubisou’s handler. "Please, Wool. Tell me she’s going to be okay?"

  "Stop talking, you stupid woman," Wool fanned the cat’s claws apart. "She’s lost a lot of blood. Please, let us work."

  Bisoubisou’s head hit the side of the bed’s surface. A rope of saliva collected out and bled along her cheek.

  "God, no," Wool said. "She’s going into septic shock."

  The heart rate sped up on the screen.

  "Laceration at oh-one-five," Wool prodded Bisoubisou’s stomach and felt along her chest, keeping an eye on the screen. The cat’s tongue slipped out from her mouth and hung down her face.

  "God, no, no," the first medician said, "She’s gone into shock."

  "Another at oh-two-six, and five-oh-three."

  "Morphine, Doctor?" asked one of the medicians as Wool rubbed her face in a frantic attempt to save the cat’s life.

  "No," Wool said, "She’s had enough—"

  Bisoubisou croaked and let out a fountain of vomit. Her right paw had swelled up beyond recognition. Her rightmost claw lilted and threatened to come free.

  Her breathing gradually slowed down to nothing.

  A clump of fur fell off her chest as she exhaled for the final time.

  "It’s the claws," Wool thumped the table and held her fist to her mouth, trying not to emote, "Nu-huh, no."

  Bisoubisou flatlined.

  Wool closed her eyes and took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to cry. She wanted to kill someone for what had happened to the beautiful Russian Blue cat laying before her.

  The constant beep signaling the cat’s death was the only thing anyone could hear.

  "You call it," Wool looked away.

  "Four-fifteen," the first medician set Bisoubisou’s lifeless paw on the bed, "Wool?"

  She didn’t respond. Instead, she kept looking away, silently cursing the day she signed on to the project.

  "Wool?" the first medician asked. "Would you like me to notify the bereaved?"

  "No, it’s okay." She looked at her colleague and blinked, "I’ll do it. This is all my damn fault anyway."

  "But didn’t she pass the assessment?" the first medician asked.

  "Doesn’t matter if she did or didn’t," the second medician said, "It doesn’t test for allergies to company product."

  The handler cried in the corner regretting her involvement in the proceedings.

  "Oh, stop crying," Wool thumped her desk and took no pity on the woman, "You’re just the lackey. You didn’t do anything wrong, so shut up and stop crying. Go back out on stage and look pretty."

  Jamie and Emily sat in the back of the limousine en route to their hotel.

  Jelly rested in her carry case between them taking a well-earned nap. She’d survived the day very well. Much like the limousine’s engine, her purring rumbled away from within now that she was on her way home.

  Jamie stared out of the window.

  The beach front at Cape Claudius whizzed by. Children and their families enjoyed the sun and ocean, offering him a glimpse of what life might have been like had he been born in South Texas.

  A giant rig loomed in the background. It would house the spacecraft someday soon and launch it into the stars.

  Alas, the Anderson family would never be involved. Jamie bit his lip and sat back in his seat.

  "I’m glad we’re going home, mom."

  "Yes, poppet," Emily looked at Jelly through the bars of the cage, "Perhaps it’s better this way—"

  The driver’s forearm started ringing. He lifted it to his face and took the call as quietly as possible.

  "She did well, though, didn’t she?"

  Emily didn’t say anything. She felt sorry for her son, but they’d achieved more in the past few months than most ever did in their entire lifetimes.

  "Yes, poppet," she whispered. "Jelly did very—"

  The car screeched to a halt, kicking dust into the air. The traffic from behind slammed their brakes and blared their horns.

  Jelly’s cage slipped forward. Jamie caught it in his hands before it fell to the foot well.

  "What are you doing?"

  Emily held her hands out and pressed the back of the driver’s seat, shielding herself from colliding with it. "What’s going on?"

  The driver looked over his chair and threw the stick in reverse.

  "I’ve just had an update," he said. "We’re heading back to the arena…"

  "What?" Jamie asked. "Why?"

  "Actually, we’re heading to USARIC, not the arena."

  "What?" Emily asked. Why?"

  "Something has happened," the driver performed a hasty three-point turn in the middle of the road, angering a lot of the oncoming drivers, "USARIC want to talk to you very urgently."

  ***

  Emily, Jamie, and the caged Jelly found themselves in USARIC’s main conference room.

  They’d been hurried into the building via the back entrance to avoid the crowds milling around the front.

  The Gagarin family had won the trials. As far as they were concerned, Bisoubisou was recuperating with Wool ar-Ban and her team.

  Emily caught sight of the attention Remy and his family received as they drove past. No one was any the wiser to the clandestine meeting that took place between USARIC and the Anderson family.

  Maar Sheck and Dimitri Vasilov were in attendance, along with Tripp Healy and Wool ar-Ban.

  They updated Emily on the events that had taken place after the finals were finished. The news came as a complete shock and didn’t go down well with either her or her son.

  "How did it happen?” Emily asked.

  Wool sat up in her chair with a degree of solemnity, "A combination of her injuries and a reaction to the utility that was strapped to her paw. Essentially, it culminated in progressive organ failure and she went into cardiac arrest. She wouldn’t have felt anything. It all happened so fast."

  Emily exhaled and looked at her lap. She felt disgusted with herself, "It was Jelly’s fault, wasn’t it?"

  "Oh no, no," Wool said, "Jelly had nothing to do with—"

  "—we saw it with our own eyes," Emily interrupted. "You made them fight. We saw Jelly injure her. She can’t have helped."

  "No," Wool said. "I can’t argue with that. She can’t have helped."

  "So, how much trouble are we in?" Emily rubbed Jamie’s knee, signaling that she had everything under control, "Just so you know, we intend to get representation in court. We can’t be held responsible—"

  "—in court?" Maar asked, confused. "Why would you need a lawyer?"

  "Well, because of all this. You’re suing us, aren’t you?"

  Maar and Dimitri looked at each other, realizing that the woman had gotten the wrong end of the stick. Maar spoke slowly, intending to correct her.

  "Uh, no… we’re not planning to sue you."

  "No?"

  "No. Actually, we want to use Jelly. We consider her to be the winner in all this."

  "I beg your pardon?"

  Jamie’s ears pricked up. He felt an internal whirl of delight
, "You mean Jelly won?"

  "In a manner of speaking, yes."

  Tripp looked at Emily and threw her a smile. "Bisoubisou can’t go. But Jelly can, if you allow it."

  Emily shook her head instinctively. She didn’t want to hear another word.

  "No, no, no, you don’t get to do this to us. To Jelly. No, a thousand times no."

  "How about two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand times yes?" Dimitri tried.

  "You can’t seriously be suggesting that Jelly take Bisoubisou’s place?"

  "That is what we’re suggesting," Dimitri glanced at his colleagues, "Jelly, here, proved a number of things. One, she’s the best candidate for the task. Two, she technically beat her competitor. It’s just a shame that the results were announced before—"

  Emily slammed the table. Her emotions get the better of her. Jelly growled in her cage as she felt the impact.

  "You forced our cat to attack her. She had no choice. Jelly was defending herself. How dare you suggest she’s a killer."

  "We didn’t say she was a killer," Maar said. "All we’re saying is that, technically, she won."

  "I’ve heard enough," Emily grabbed her son’s hand and clutched Jelly’s carry case, "We’re leaving. Let us out."

  She marched Jamie toward the door, leaving a thoroughly disappointed USARIC team behind her.

  Just one, last baiting technique was left to be dealt by Maar, "As I say, if Jelly won, which she did, then that also means her family won the prize money."

  Emily stopped before the door and closed her eyes. "What?"

  Maar rose from his seat. "Perhaps my colleague wasn’t clear enough a moment ago. The two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand dollar final prize," he grinned behind her back, much to Dimitri’s amusement, "It’s all yours. You won."

  Emily paused for a second longer and thoroughly digested this new dilemma. She had two options available to her.

  1: Uphold her and her family’s dignity and walk away. Sure, they’d be broke. Jamie wouldn’t get out of Chrome Valley and lead a life worth living. Back to a life of obscurity. Or…

  2: She could accept. The money would at least go some way to dampen the effect of the issues raised on point one. It might afford them opportunities in life.

  Of course, Emily settled on the latter of the two options. But some caveats she’d yet to think of would need to be put in place.

  Emily turned around and made sure they saw her displeased reaction, "The money?"

  "That’s right, Emily," Maar said. "It’s yours."

  "Right."

  She walked back to the conference desk with Jamie.

  "Mom, what are we doing?"

  "Be quiet, poppet," she returned into the seat and pressed her hands together, "I will allow Jelly to take part on two conditions."

  "We are all ears," Dimitri said, suppressing the urge to smile at USARIC’s impending victory.

  "The money. Half of it is to be transferred directly into a secure fund for my son when he reaches eighteen."

  "Mom?"

  "Hush, poppet," she turned to Maar and Dimitri for an answer.

  "Of course, as you wish."

  "Okay," Emily continued, "Two. You go out there right now and tell that poor family what happened to their pet."

  This was a condition USARIC did not want to entertain. Maar leaned forward and pleaded with her, "The Gagarin family are under the impression Bisoubisou is alive and well and a part of the Opera Beta mission."

  "I don’t care. Do you understand?" Emily said, defiantly, "If you want Jelly, you will go out there and tell that little Russian boy that his cat died because of you… and us."

  "Are you out of your tiny English mind?" Dimitri yelped. "Emily, I beg you to reconsider."

  “And stop calling me Emily,” she fumed, wondering why the men in the room weren’t using formal address, “You don’t know me. We’re not on first-name terms.”

  “I’m sorry if I offended you, but—”

  "—Stop talking. I don’t want your apologies.”

  Emily took a moment to catch her breath and calm down, much to the consternation of those in the room.

  “That’s the offer,” she said. “I want proof of them having been told. I can be there with you if you like, but I need to know you did it."

  "One moment, please," Maar said.

  He and Dimitri whispered to each other, holding their hands over their mouths.

  Emily tried to catch on to what they were saying but their conversation was surreptitious to a fault.

  Wool and Tripp looked away from Emily and, instead, smiled at Jamie.

  "Looking at my son won’t do any good, mate," she said to Tripp. "This condition isn’t up for negotiation."

  Wool tried for a smile, "You do know that if Jelly joins us on the mission to Saturn, she’ll be an instrumental part in deciphering the first extra-terrestrial message we’ve ever received. It could be a life changing event."

  "Saturn?" Jamie blurted. "She’s going to Saturn?"

  "I’m sure it will be a life-changing event," Emily smiled back at her, angrily, "Let’s hope your bosses make the right decision."

  Maar and Dimitri adjusted their ties and cleared their throats, "We have decided on a compromise."

  "It’d better be good."

  "We will inform Remy and his family of what happened to his cat. But we would rather keep this update hidden from the public."

  "Fine by me. I don’t care about the public," Emily said, somewhat satisfied, "All I care about is them being told."

  "Relations right now between our two countries are not exactly strong, despite our confederacy," Dimitri said. "We are trying to strengthen our relationship and abide by the 2085 Bering Treaty. If word gets out that a Russian citizen died during this process, it could start a second cold war."

  "So, you’ll tell them?"

  "Yes," Maar said. "And as far as everyone is concerned, Bisoubisou is alive and well and a member of the crew of Space Opera Beta. No one will know that Jelly took her place. We pay the Gagarin family for their silence, and pay you for your participation—"

  "—and everybody is happy," Dimitri finished.

  A sense of satisfaction settled across the table.

  Emily looked through the bars of Jelly’s carry case. The cat looked back at her and licked her mouth.

  "I suppose that suits us," Emily took a final glance at the team, "It looks like you’ve got yourselves your first cat in space."

  "I guess that’s excellent," Maar said. "Pleasure doing business with you."

  Everyone stood up from their chairs and tucked them under the table. Business had been conducted, and USARIC and the Anderson family were happy.

  "Mom?"

  "What, poppet?"

  "Does this mean Jelly is going, after all?"

  "Yes," she whispered.

  "So, here’s what will happen next," Tripp said. "We’ll take delivery of Jelly tomorrow morning. We’ll message the papers to your hotel so you can peruse them and return them to us tomorrow, all signed and sealed. Sound good?"

  "Sounds good," Emily said.

  Tripp walked over to Jamie and squatted in front of him, "And tomorrow, we can give you a little tour of Space Opera Beta. Show you where Jelly’s going to spend the next few years."

  "Oh, wow," Jamie jumped on the spot, "Really?"

  "Yes, really. It’s the least we can do," Tripp said. "Look, I promise you, Jamie. Jelly is going to be fine. And I’d like to introduce you to every one who’ll be working with her."

  Tripp did a great job of reassuring Jamie. It meant the world to his mother.

  Chapter 6

  USARIC Headquarters

  Cape Claudius

  "Welcome to the United States and Russian Intergalactic Confederation."

  The USARIC logo, a dead-mix of fifty-two stars and a hammer, spun around on its axis in the middle of the room. Random footage of planets orbiting the solar system, happy families, and astronauts working on IMS zipped around it.

>   "For the past quarter-century, USARIC has been searching the outer reaches of our galaxy. Exploring the depths of civilization and strengthening the lives of all its citizens. We hope you enjoy your visit. May your day be productive and full of vigor."

  Jamie admired the screen as he held Jelly in her carry case, "I can’t believe we’re actually here."

  Emily tugged his sleeve and nodded at the double doors, "I think that’s them."

  "Ah, hello. Emily," Tripp held out his hand to shake.

  She smiled, finding it hard to ignore his pulchritude. The man was good-looking, to be sure, but this was pure business. She remained as professional as she could.

  "Good after-morning, captain."

  "Oh, I’m not the captain," Tripp explained, "I’m second-in-charge, Commander Healy."

  "I see," Emily finally looked him up and down, "I have to ask, what does your wife think about you spending years away from home?"

  "She’s used to the idea. It’s part and parcel of the business, I’m afraid," Tripp smiled and threw Jamie a sly wink, "S’up, champ?"

  "Hello, sir."

  "Jamie, right?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, Jamie, here in the United States we no longer use gender-specific titles."

  "What is that?"

  “You know. Titles? You’re too young to remember when everyone called people mister and missus and things like that, right?”

  ‘No,” Jamie said. “We do that all the time. It’s polite.”

  ‘Well, it’s the law here now. It’s very rude to assume people’s genders when we—”

  Tripp stopped talking when he saw Jelly’s carry case. She revealed her teeth and showed him her behind.

  "Huh. Charming," Tripp stood back up and addressed Jamie. "In our country we use people’s first names so we don’t offend people."

  "That’s weird," Jamie said in his naivety.

  "That’s fine. You Brits talk weird, anyway," Tripp rubbed his hands together and clocked Jamie and Emily’s visitor badges. "Okay, you’re all signed in?"

  "Yes," Emily fought back the desire to pick up Tripp’s blatantly xenophobic remark, "We’re ready."

  "Good stuff," Tripp turned around and nodded at the receptionist, who hit a button and opened the entrance gates. "Let’s go see the spaceship!"