He shook his head in resignation. “You don’t understand. We must leave right away. It will take several days to reach our destination and the ceremony is next week.”
“I can’t leave right away.” He was becoming very agitated so I considered. “Let’s see. I suppose I could send an e-mail to my boss. He won’t be very pleased and it’ll cause ructions at work, but I suppose I can always find another job if I come back. I suppose I could phone my parents now and tell them I’m going away. I’ll probably have to send a letter or something later. Can I send a letter to here from Capella?”
“It could be arranged.”
“Okay. I could e-mail all my friends and Fiona, my sister. I could shut up the house as if I was going on holiday. I wonder if John and Frances would keep an eye on it for me? They probably would. That just leaves the cats. I’m not deserting them.”
“What are these ‘cats’?”
“My cats. Pets.”
“Pets?”
“You don’t know what pets are? Domesticated animals.”
“I know what a domesticated animal is. All civilisations have them.”
I found Ziggy asleep on the bed as usual. He meowed complainingly as I picked him up then started purring.
“This is Ziggy. He’s a cat.”
“Cats are feline? It does look feline, but hardly fierce.”
I laughed. “You wouldn’t say that if you were a mouse or small bird.”
Ziggy chose that moment to yawn, revealing his needle-sharp teeth.
“I see what you mean. What does it do?”
“Do? Nothing. He’s a pet.”
“I fail to understand. Most domesticated animals serve a purpose; food, beasts of burden, and so on.”
“Ziggy’s a pet. A companion.”
“One moment.” He took on his cross-eyed look. “How remarkable. It appears that some cultures have pets, but only a few. Its fur looks very soft. May I touch it?”
“Of course.” I demonstrated how to stroke a cat. Ziggy’s eyes took on that sensual, half-closed look and he began to purr loudly.
Hermes stretched out a tentative hand and stroked Ziggy’s head. Ziggy half-turned his head, seemed to accept the touch and resumed purring again.
“Be definite, but gentle,” I said. “Cats know when you’re scared or unsure of them.”
“How remarkable. It is a most pleasurable sensation. What is that noise?”
“He’s purring. He’s enjoying being stroked.” I grinned. “I sometimes suspect cats deliberately evolved their soft fur and purring just to persuade humans to look after them.”
He looked askance as if to assess whether I was serious.
“Hmm. It is remarkably pleasant just the same.”
“That's why I keep them. That and the fact that they’re independent.”
“How can they be independent? They are dependent on you.”
“I know, but it’s beneath a cat’s dignity to acknowledge it. A cat believes that it’s doing you the greatest favour on earth by condescending to live with you.” His look said he didn’t believe me. “Just wait till you’ve been around them for a while,” I laughed.
“And they serve no useful purpose?”
“Not in that sense. Shopkeepers, sailors, farmers and the like keep cats to control vermin. Cats are natural predators and excellent hunters. Most of us just keep them because we like them.”
“How curious. Do humans keep other animals as pets?”
“Dogs are the most popular though people also keep small rodents, fish, birds, even pigs as pets. Look, this is very interesting, but doesn’t solve the problem.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know if it can be resolved.”
“But I can’t just leave them.”
“Why not?”
“Because they’d die if there was nobody to feed them.”
“Can’t you give them to someone?”
“Like who?”
“I don’t know. I’ve only just arrived. Your neighbours?”
“They have a dog.”
“And the problem is?”
“Dogs and cats generally don’t get on. Besides people who like dogs often don’t like cats.”
He sighed in exasperation. “If I were a suspicious being, I’d say you were putting obstacles in the way.”
“Well, it’s not me who wants to go rushing off to the other side of the galaxy in the middle of the night. Give me a month… even a fortnight and I’ll come with you happily, but I’m not abandoning my cats even for a… whatever it is spaceship.”
“Mark 3 Zofi-Brennan ‘Interspacialle’. I thought you said they were independent creatures.”
“They like to pretend they are, but they’re not really. Cats can turn feral, but most adult domestic cats have become too used to the good life to fend for themselves.”
“Not very useful, then, are they?”
“They’re not meant to be. Anyway, would you survive if you were abandoned in the midst of a wilderness?”
“But this isn’t…”
“It is to a cat.”
“Oh. Well… I see what you mean.”
“So now you see why I can’t just abandon them.”
“No.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Granted.”
“I meant I didn’t understand you. You said ‘no’.”
“You asked if I understood why you couldn't leave your animals and I said no, I couldn’t.”
“But… I just explained it.”
“No, you didn’t. You explained why the animals wouldn’t survive, but not why you cannot leave them.”
I looked at him as if he wasn’t human. “But…” Then, of course, I realised that he really wasn't human. I sighed. “When people acquire pets, especially cats or dogs, there’s a sort of unwritten contract that they will look after them and feed them and care for them. It doesn’t always happen, I grant you, but that’s the idea. Also, after a while, you form a strong bond with the animals… and they do with you. In fact, there’s a statue in the city to a wee dog… but that’s irrelevant. The point is the cats are part of my life and I am of theirs. I would no more think of turning them out in the street than I would my own mother.”
He sighed crossly. “I know it is undiplomatic of me to say so, but you are the most exasperating being I think I’ve ever encountered… and I include that innkeeper on Frubital.”
“Possibly.” My tone was as short as his. “However, it wasn't me who arrived unannounced on my doorstep and demanded that I leave this instant.”
He sighed again. “Oh, very well. Bring them with you. I assume they’ll travel.”
“Bring them with me? On a spaceship?”
“Do they need much room?”
“They’ll cope in confined spaces for a while, but they’re territorial animals and mine are used to roaming. I was thinking of g-forces.”
“You won’t experience them. A by-product of the inertialess drive is constant gravity.”
“Oh. Will they be able to roam?”
“Not much in the ship. But no matter. We’ll find a solution.”
“If you’re sure.”
“I’m not, but you have made it clear you will not abandon them. I confess I do not understand why, but it is clearly important to you. As we must leave as soon as possible, the only solution is that your pets accompany you.”
“Good. Ah, that’s assuming Stardust is around. Here, hold Ziggy while I check.”
I thrust the cat into his startled hands and rushed off. Stardust was, as I’d hoped, in the airing cupboard next to the hot water tank. She protested loudly when I picked her up. Hermes was sitting again when I returned with Ziggy curled up on his knee. There was a slightly bemused expression on his face.
“You’ve made a friend for life,” I said with a smile.
“It’s most remarkable. It turned round a few times, dug its talons into my skin then curled up like this.”
“I’ll tell you why l
ater. This is Stardust. Please keep the door shut so they don’t wander off. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“You are going somewhere?”
“I have a phone call to make and e-mails to send. I have to visit my next door neighbors to see if they’ll keep an eye on the house and I have to pack.”
“Pack?”
“I will need some clothes on this spaceship… unless it’s your custom to go around naked.”
“Not on my ship, no. You won’t require many clothes. These can be acquired later.”
“I’ll bear that in mind.”
The next two hours were a nightmare. The conversation with my parents was probably the worst. In the end I had to promise I would write and explain everything as soon as I could. I decided to call Fiona. She laughed.
“You’ve never done anything impulsive in your life, Crawford. What’s happened?”
“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you,” I said. “And I can’t tell you… not yet anyway. I’ve been given the opportunity of a lifetime and I’m going to grab it with both hands. I hope to be back in a few months. Then I’ll tell you all about it.”
“You’re not in any sort of trouble, are you?”
“That’s exactly what Mum asked. No, I’m in no sort of trouble at all. Quite the reverse. If I can I’ll write but, whatever happens, I’ll be in touch in three or four months.”
“Where are you going that you can’t write or e-mail or phone? The Antarctic?”
“Much further than that. Look Fee, I have to go. Try to persuade Mum I’m okay and I know what I’m doing, will you?”
“I’ll try, but as I’m not convinced it might be hard. Hey, what are you doing about Ziggy and Stardust?”
“Taking them with me.”
“I don’t know whether I’m relieved or even more worried. Still, if they’re going with you, you can’t be in serious trouble. Take care, little brother.”
“I will, big sister. I love you.”
The e-mail to my boss was horrible. I knew it wasn't right and I felt like a heel as I was writing it. I was letting everyone down, hardly a fair repayment for all the support they’d given me. John and Frances were surprised, to say the least, but promised to keep an eye on the place for me. They, too, enquired about the cats and were even more surprised when I said I was taking them with me. They clearly were concerned but, being good Edinburgh neighbours, didn’t like to pry. I promised I’d return and explain all.
Packing didn’t turn out to be too difficult; lots of underwear and socks, some casual shirts, a spare pair of jeans, some formal shirts and ties and my best suit and formal shoes, etc for meeting the President. I assumed there’d be washing facilities somewhere down the line.
I went round the house making sure everything was off, including all the pilot lights and timers, then cleaned the cats’ litter tray. Fortunately the bag of litter was nearly full. I stuffed it and the tray into a rucksack, put everything in the front hall and went back to the sitting room with the cat basket. Hermes was asleep with Ziggy still on his lap. Stardust was curled up on the other chair.
“Oh, you startled me,” he said with a start.
“Sorry. I just need to get these two into the basket then I’m ready.”
“Already? That was quick.”
I glanced at my watch. “I’ve been gone over two hours.”
He went momentarily cross-eyed. “Good gracious. Where did the time go?”
“Cats are very relaxing until, of course, you want them to do something.”
I scooped up Stardust and, before she had properly realised what was happening, had deposited her in the basket. She began to protest. Ziggy opened his eyes. He remained curled up on Hermes lap, but he knew fine well what game was afoot. I picked him up and Hermes let out a yell. Ziggy had dug his claws firmly in to his thigh.
“Sorry,” I said. “I should have warned you.”
I managed to release the claws whereupon Ziggy made a determined effort to escape. It was my hand that felt the claws this time. He hissed at me, baring his fangs. I ignored him, as usual, and shoved him unceremoniously in beside his sister. They both protested loudly. Hermes was nursing his injured thigh.
“Are they poisonous?” he asked through gritted teeth.
“No, but if you’ve a puncture I suggest you take some antibiotic or something. You mentioned something about not being completely compatible with human organisms.”
“I’d better check.”
“Bathroom’s upstairs.”
He hobbled off. I turned off the fire and lights and took the cats out to the hall, still protesting. I did quick mental check to see if I’d forgotten anything. I had… my wallet, though I doubted I’d need it on Capella. Capella. It was just a name. The idea that it was several thousand light years away was just too alien for my mind to comprehend. I had to take things one small step at a time. If I thought too far ahead, I knew I’d go mad. Hermes returned. He wasn’t limping.
“No major damage,” he reported.
“Good.” I slung my rucksack over my shoulder and picked up the cat basket. “Can you get my case?”
“Are they going to make that noise all the way there?”
“They’ll settle down in a bit. It’s the damage to their dignity they’re protesting about.”
“I hope so. They’re noisy creatures.”
“You should hear two cats when they’re mating. You’d be convinced someone was being tortured to death.”
“I’ll pass, thank you.”
I turned out the hall light, pulled the front door shut and locked it firmly. Somehow I knew I’d never live here again.
Chapter 2
Hermes had parked his ship in the local park, it being the only suitable bit of ground nearby. Each step I took seemed to be taking me a mile further from my home and past and a mile nearer an unknown future. I felt rather than heard the sound of doors slamming behind me. I could only hope that new ones would open up in front of me. Hermes seemed untroubled and chatted away about this and that. I’m afraid I answered in monosyllables. At least, as I’d predicted, the cats had settled down. It was disconcerting enough to be walking the streets late at night clutching a rucksack and a cat basket. I had no need to make myself even more visible.
Hermes’ ship was a disappointment, to say the least. It looked nothing like I’d imagined a spaceship to be, resembling more a large, sleek, wheel-less and window-less Transit van with stubby wings.
“Here we are,” he said cheerfully as a door opened with a gentle hiss.
The inside looked like a space-age bus. There were two seats at the front and three behind. They looked like futuristic armchairs. In front of the front seats was a panel that ran the width of the vehicle containing dozens of small coloured display screens, little lights of various colours and lots of push buttons.
“Stick your case on the floor, there,” he said. “The cats can go on the seat. We won’t be long so leave them as they are.”
“Should I strap them in?”
He laughed and I noticed there weren’t any straps.
He took the right-hand seat and I the left. The door hissed shut. He went all cross-eyed again.
“Good, the optimum window is in five minutes. Oh, Dear, we’d better use English unless there’s an emergency. This is Crawford. I have been named Hermes.”
There was the slightest of pauses then a light female voice filled the cabin.
“Welcome, Crawford. I am Dear. Hermes is a most apt name.”
“Thank you.” I looked at Hermes sardonically. “Dear?”
He looked sheepish. “An accident. You heard its voice. I had recently taken possession of the ship and hadn’t named the ibic yet. I was concentrating on something else when it spoke and I automatically answered, “Yes, dear.” The name sort of stuck.”
I laughed. “How do I talk to her… it?”
“Just say its name.”
“Well, Dear,” I said feeling slightly foolish talking to thin
air, “I hope you keep him well in line.”
There was that almost unnoticeable pause. “I do, Crawford. He’s quite well behaved, mostly.” I could swear the voice sounded amused.
“I think I resent that,” Hermes said. “Would you like to see where we’re going?”
“Yes, please.”
“Full vision, Dear.”
The night-time park suddenly appeared. As I watched a rabbit hopped out of the undergrowth, sat for a moment, its ears pricked then scampered back into the bushes. Moments later a dog appeared, sniffed around a bit, cocked its leg against a tree and trotted off. Its owner strolled along the path further away.
“Won’t we be seen?” I asked, indicating the dog walker.
“No. He won’t even know we’re here.”
As he finished, I realised that we were moving. At least logic told me we were moving. My senses told me that we were sitting still and the park was shrinking. We rose silently above the trees then turned. The sky went shooting past the window. After a few moments of level flight, the view tilted and we were pointing straight at the clouds. I was convinced that the world had rotated through ninety degrees for, as far as I was concerned, I was sitting straight and level. There was no sensation of gravity and no sensation of speed. We plunged into the dark mass of the clouds. It was like being in a fog. I knew, logically, that there were turbulences all around, but I could feel none of them. We shot out of the clouds and the stars glittered in the heavens. They looked very far away yet, at the same time, incredibly close. It dawned on me that I was going to be getting a lot closer to them very soon.
“We need to do a bit of manoeuvring now,” Hermes said apologetically. “Let me know if it becomes too disconcerting.”
We levelled off and the horizon whizzed past. The moon swung abruptly into view. For a moment we seemed to hover then shot off in a random direction. The stars swung through ninety degrees again as we climbed furiously. We levelled off, turned this way and that a few times, climbed some more, levelled off then climbed again. As we climbed the stars glimmered less and became like hard points of light. There were more of them, too. The Milky Way appeared as a band of light. Individual stars shone through the misty glow.
I Won A Spaceship Page 3