Star Cat: Training Day: A Space Opera Fantasy

by Andrew Mackay

  “Mom? Can we?”

  “Yes, we can,” Emily turned to Tripp. “Just one more day, right?”

  “Amaziant,” Tripp rubbed his hands together and turned to the door. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  He walked with Wool to the door and grabbed his ID card.

  Jamie looked up at his mother and scrunched his face.

  “Mom?”

  “Yes, poppet?”

  “What does amaziant mean?”

  “I’ve no idea,” Emily said. “These yanks speak funny.”

  The Manuel

  “The Homogenization of Language”

  Page 98, 018 (exposition dump #77/6p)

  Don’t be put off by the demanding title.

  The common carbon-based life form fails to comprehend approximately ninety-two percent of what it is told, anyway, which is ironic given the nature of the information you’re about to receive.

  Namely, that of language.

  As has been proven over and over again since The Age of Technology (1996 - 2035) there is a tendency for devices to “homogenize” - that is to say, they contract in physical size and usually amalgamate.

  Take the mobile phone, for example.

  Used primarily as a device to make “phone calls” (see page 87,090 on that bizarre phenomena) and “text messages” (long since obsolete) the mobile phone throughout the years frequently incorporated features of other things. The MP3 player - an archaic mode of carrying poor quality music, often stolen - from the early twenty-first century enjoyed a temporary triumph in sales before being combined with the phone.

  Before long, the name “mobile phone” became something of a misnomer for the fact that it acted as a device for anything but making phone calls*.

  What your ancestors failed to recognize was that precisely the same thing has been happening to language, and still is.

  And probably always will, too.

  Take for example, the word “amaziant.” A portmanteau of the words “amazing” and “brilliant”. A refrain in common parlance one hundred years later, yet singularly failing to register with citizens one hundred years ago.

  A commentary on their intelligence? Perhaps.

  Equally as controversial, yet no more enlightening to our forebears, is the use of the words such as the adjective “terriful” and the noun “twunt” - the former, a fairly obvious homogenization of the words “terrible” and “awful”, and the latter, far too inappropriate for clean, young adult audiences.

  If one were to travel back to the year 2020 (to pick a year entirely at random) and use these words, the author might reasonably expect his or her self to be in receipt of some dirty looks. Such phraseology so befuddling to the simply human mind may even precipitate one star reviews on popular e-commerce sites. Not so much a testament to the proofreading endeavors of the author, but the intelligence (or lack thereof) on behalf of the reviewer.

  As we have discussed, much like technology, language expands - then contracts.

  The physicality tends to the smaller. The capacity tends to the larger.

  Those of you old enough to remember an antiquated piece of gadgetry called a USB stick may remember that it could hold several gigabytes of information. Decades earlier, the same amount of information would have had to be housed in a computer the size of your daughter.

  *Inline note: for more information on this, please refer to The Manuel’s entry titled “Individimedia and the future of communication” Pg 301,133 (exposition dump #109/3b).

  CHAPTER THREE

  Spacewalk

  The Imitative Buoyancy System chamber resembled a gargantuan aircraft hangar.

  A couple of USARIC officials waited for Tripp, Jamie, Emily, and Wool to approach them. It would take more than a couple of minutes to get within earshot of them.

  Jamie took in the sheer enormity of the chamber, his mind racing a mile-a-minute, “Wow, look at this place.”

  “Until recently, this used to house the jets,” Tripp said. “The IBS was built just over five years ago.”

  “I doubt it stands for Irritable Bowel Syndrome, then?” Emily asked.

  “Imitative Buoyancy System,” Tripp laughed. “Before we go to zero gravity simulation we need to ensure that all crew members can tolerate the rigors of space exploration.”

  “Even the cats?” Jamie asked.

  “Especially the cats.”

  He pointed to the central feature of the warehouse. A vast swimming pool. Unlike a regular pool this one contained a submersible and numerous pipes.

  At the mid-section stood a giant, mechanical structure with arms.

  Jelly’s nose twitched as the stench of chlorinated water wafted up her nostrils. The stench settled into her throat and stomach, confirming that water was nearby. She shrieked and tried to jump from Jamie’s arms.

  “Meow.”

  “Hey, Jelly. No,” Jamie ran after her as she reached the side of the pool. She caught her own reflection in the water and snarled at her. Before she could attack…

  WHUP.

  Her hind legs lifted into the air as a pair of hands slid under her stomach.

  “Mwah!”

  Jamie cradled her in his arms and turned to Tripp, “It smells like a swimming pool in here. Are you going to put Jelly in the water?”

  “Not me, personally, Tripp pointed to the large man in an exo-suit awaiting their arrival at the far end, “He is.”

  “Well, well, well,” the man asked as he clapped eyes on the cat in Jamie’s arms.

  “Hey, Jaycee,” Wool said. “This is Jelly Anderson. The winner of the Star Cat Project.”

  “Oh, nice. Lucky girl.” He tilted his head and made silly noises at her. Jelly possessed the power to reduce even the most hardened and gruff men to blathering imbeciles.

  “Ooh, you’re a cute thing, aren’t you?” he said as he ran his thick, gloved knuckle under her chin, “Yes. Yes you are.”

  Tripp cleared his throat just loud enough to catch the huge man’s attention, “Umm, Jaycee?”

  “Yeah?”

  Tripp held his hand at Jamie and Emily, “Jaycee. We have guests, you know.”

  “Oh.”

  Jaycee stomped his right foot on the floor, sending a reverberation through the concrete, “I’m sorry. Where are my manners? I’m Jaycee Nayall, USARIC Weapons and Armory.”

  “Hi,” Emily said with a smile. “I’m Emily. This is my son, Jamie.”

  The young lad couldn’t stop looking at the towering man. His exo-suit looked like a weapon all its own. The harsh fluorescent lighting bounced off the armor and nearly blinded the boy.

  “How tall are you, mister?”

  Jaycee tried for an affable attempt of humor, “Hmm, who’s asking?”

  Jamie failed to grasp the joke and shot the giant a look of confusion, “I am?”

  “Oh,” Jaycee paused, but delighted in the boy’s curiosity, “Well, I’m seven foot, last check. Why, how big are you?”

  Jamie slid behind his mother’s leg for protection, “I dunno.”

  Jaycee thumped his fists together. Everyone felt the impact rumble through their stomach.

  “It’s okay, Jamie,” Jaycee said. “I’m here to look after Jelly. We’re going to see how she does in a weightless environment before she moves onto her simulcast.”

  Wool turned to the pool, “Shall we?”

  “Let’s do it.”

  Jaycee pointed at the cavernous pool in the middle of the building, “This is the aquatic parameter. Eight million gallons of water. Fifty feet in depth. I know it doesn’t look it, but it’s very, very deep down there.”

  “Why?”

  Jaycee pulled Jamie away from the edge as they traveled past the lip of the pool, “Well, Jamie. The closest we can get to weightlessness is by floating in water.”

  Jelly tried to wriggle free in Wool’s arms. The very fact that she was near water perturbed her no end. Her reflection in the miniature ripples made her jump back in fright, exacerbating furt
her her fear of the transparent liquid.

  “Hey, Jelly. Calm down,” Wool said. “It’s only water. Don’t worry.”

  “Meow.”

  WHHIIIRRRRRR…

  The crane at the side of the pool lifted a man-sized submersible spacesuit with wings from out of the water.

  “What’s that?”

  “I think that’s Bonnie coming back from a test run,” Jaycee clapped his hands together as the machine lowered the suit to the ground. A torrent of water thundered down around it as the person inside rolled her shoulders and flicked a switch down on the side of her visor.

  “Decompression activated.”

  SPRIISSHH.

  Wool folded her arms and shifted her weight onto her left hip, unimpressed with the show.

  A waft of gas blew around the helmet as the visor flipped open to reveal a brunette woman inside. She licked her lips and took a few deep breaths.

  “Hey, Bonnie.”

  “Hey, Jaycee.”

  “How was the run?”

  “Run? More like a swim,” Bonnie removed her helmet and caught sight of the cat in Wool’s arms, “ar-Ban? Have you just given birth or something?”

  “Don’t play the idiot with me, Whitaker,” Wool snapped. “What was all that about?”

  “What was what about?”

  “Calling Jelly names and trying to antagonize her back at Stealth.”

  “Oh, that,” Bonnie lifted her right leg out of the suit, followed by her left, prosthetic leg, “Are you deaf, or do you just have amnesia? I told you, it was necessary.”

  SCHTOMP.

  “I see the pressure drop didn’t interfere with your circuitry, then?” Tripp chuckled to himself.

  Bonnie stood before him; a not-unattractive woman in her underwear. She kicked her left leg forward in defiance, “What are you laughing at, Healy?”

  “Nothing.”

  Bonnie looked at Jamie, “I recognize you. We met the other day, didn’t we?”

  “Yes, I’m Jamie. You’re the lady with the weird leg.”

  Bonnie removed her submersible top which revealed her tight, wet Lycra sports bra. “No fooling you, kid. So, we’re putting the stupid cat in the drink, are we?”

  “Don’t call her stupid,” Jamie barked. “She’s my cat. She’s not stupid.”

  Wool shook her head and threw Bonnie an evil grin, “You really are a spiteful woman, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah. You’re right, ar-Ban. Jelly is a genius. I forgot,” Bonnie spat, in no mood to entertain a youngster and his stupid cat, “Tripp?”

  “Yes, Bonnie?”

  “Is this absolutely necessary?”

  “Is what necessary?”

  “The spacewalk,” Bonnie said. “Anderson beat that Russian runner-up cat in zero gravity conditions. I think we know she’s okay.”

  “No, no. Those were exceptional circumstances. We need to monitor her blood pressure, heart-rate and overall response to space conditions before the simulation.”

  “Fine.”

  “How’s the AP?” Jaycee asked. “Do we have the suit?”

  “The aquatic parameter is locked and loaded, ready to go. And, yes, we have the suit,” Bonnie picked up her submersible costume and walked toward the control room, “Follow me.”

  No one followed on account of the view it presented. A half-naked woman walking away from them offering a view that was… rare around these parts.

  Bonnie stopped, knowing full well what the hold-up was. She looked over her shoulder with frustration, “Are you coming, or what?”

  Jaycee raised his eyes and quickly hopped after her to save himself from embarrassment, “Uh, yes.”

  Wool knocked Tripp on the arm and moved off towards Bonnie, “She’s barely human. Put your tongue back in your mouth, Commander.”

  “What?” Tripp double-took with embarrassment, “Oh, uh, yes.”

  ***

  Jamie examined the yellow crane at the side of the pool. A deadly-looking claw hung over the reflective surface way above his head.

  Tripp struggled to get Jelly into the miniature submersible suit. Bonnie held her down with the helmet tucked under her armpit.

  “It’s no use,” Tripp said. “She won’t go in.”

  Jelly was more preoccupied by the ocean of water a few feet away from her. Her tail bushed out as she struggled to free herself from Bonnie’s clutches.

  “Damn cat. What do we do?”

  “Hey,” Jamie came running over and held out his arms, “What are you doing?”

  “Your stupid cat won’t get into the suit,” Bonnie said.

  Jamie fell to his knees and scooped Jelly into his hands, “That’s not how you get her to do it. Give her to me.”

  He took her under the arms and stroked her head.

  “Meow.”

  “Hey, girl. These nice people are going to put this suit on you so you won’t get wet. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

  Tripp watched Jamie lift her orange telescope necklace and push her back by her head into the suit.

  Her tail disappeared inside it, followed by her hind legs. She backed into the suit with relative ease. Finally, her little, fluffy head popped through the neck.

  “Here, keep this with you.”

  Jamie tucked the necklace through the neck hole and felt around the exterior of Jelly’s new get-up, “Can we tighten the suit? It’s a bit loose.”

  “Sure.”

  Bonnie flicked a catch on the side of the suit body. The arms and legs fastened into place. She had expected the cat to put up some resistance, but she didn’t. It seemed Jamie’s presence calmed her down enough for anything unusual that could happen.

  “Meow.”

  “Good girl,” Jamie turned to Bonnie and clocked the last piece of the suit in her hand, “Can I have the helmet?”

  She passed it to him, “Sure.”

  He held it in front of Jelly’s face, “Now, we’re going to put this on your head so you can breathe. Okay?”

  “Meow.”

  Jelly had no clue what was going on, or what was about to happen. As long as Jamie was around, she was sure no harm would come to her.

  “That’s it, it’s on,” Tripp rose to his feet and waved at Jaycee. “You can come out now. Prep the crane for submersion.”

  Jaycee clomped out from the control room decked in his outer-skin; a thin spacesuit with a modest helmet and visor. A much larger version than the same suit Jelly was wearing.

  “How do I look, Commander?”

  “Like a huge marshmallow,” Tripp chuckled.

  “Screw you, Healy.”

  Bonnie lifted Jelly into a metal cage. Her four feet magnetized to the surface, keeping her from moving away.

  “Meow.”

  She clamped two ten inch cylinders to her back, “Hold on, Anderson. Just need to get your breathing tubes attached.”

  CLUNK.

  The connecting tube came out and fastened into the side of her helmet.

  “There,” Bonnie knocked Jelly’s visor with her knuckle, “How are you doing in there?”

  “Meow.”

  Jelly began to freak out as the crane lifted her cage into the air and swung around over the surface of the water in the aquatic parameter.

  She couldn’t move her legs.

  She could, however, kick up an enormous fuss within the helmet. The serene water lifted closer and closer into view.

  “Bonnie?” Wool’s voice came through her headgear.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Your professionalism,” Wool blurted.

  “My what?”

  “Jelly’s heart-rate has shot through the roof. Two-thirty, plus. She evidently hates the water.”

  “Believe me, the water, as you put it, is nice compared to what’s coming next.”

  “What?” Wool spat. “What have you got planned?”

  Bonnie thumped Jaycee’s shoulder and nodded at the crane standing next to Jelly, “Can’t reveal the details at this time, I’m a
fraid. If she can’t handle the AP, then how can we expect her to handle a common spacewalk a billion miles away from home?”

  “I understand that. It’s just that we have the opportunity to do something about it before something goes wrong.”

  Bonnie looked at the cage sink into the water, “Did she decompress?”

  “The suit’s decompressing as we speak, but—”

  “—No buts, my friend. She’s just gonna have to toughen up,” Bonnie walked with Jaycee as he clamped the soles of his shoes to the magnetic ground, “If she thought this was bad, she’s in for a surprise when she reaches the faux rig.”

  “What is the faux rig?” Jamie asked.

  “It’s a giant crane. You’ll see it in a moment.”

  Jaycee’s crane swung around and lowered him into the water.

  “Take care down there. Report on any unidentified or unexpected risk, please, Nayall.”

  “You got it,” Jaycee said. His voice couldn’t be heard from his lips, but the microphone in his helmet caught everything.

  Glug-glug-glug…

  Jelly’s mouth opened as the water flooded the exterior of her visor. A burst of oxygen flew from the back of her helmet, representing themselves as vicious bubbles which ran up the side of her submersible suit.

  “Meow.”

  Biddum-biddum-biddum.

  A strange feeling of suffocation set in. Jelly had never felt sweat before, and it appeared as if there was a tear in her suit. Her muscles tensed. The only thing she could do was close her eyes.

  SCHTANG!

  Release. The crane released its grip on the cage. Her hind legs drifted away from the surface of the cage and out into the great blue.

  Far from the oceanic scene anyone could expect, the AP was full of bits of old spaceship and pipework. It was unclear which direction she should move in.

  Going up to the surface seemed like a good idea, but Jelly didn’t know the first thing about swimming. She was too busy trying not to freak out.

  “Gently does it, Jelly,” Bonnie said. “Get used to the funny feeling. It’s not water it’s, uh, I dunno… space?”

  “Meow,” Jelly whined to herself and ran her left arm through the water. The right side of her body moved in the same direction as a result.