by Lil Gibson
* * * *
Back in their mutely lit environ tent, Zorroc gently eased Cat onto his lap as he sunk into the long seat. He did not know who emerged more horrified of the two of them. She had come so close to dying his mind could not caption it. The Syphors first bite their prey injecting an agent to paralyze their muscles and nervous system; it works instantly but non-lethally. They preferred warm living organisms to dead meat allowing them plenty of time to suck and devour their quarry. Zorroc, locked within the terror of his imagination, did not hear Cat’s query.
"Zorroc, you spoke to me inside my head, didn't you?" she repeated tentatively, trying to fight down her panic.
"Yes," he replied hoarsely, striving to couch an answer in a manner that would not further traumatize her. "We call it mindspeaking, messaging or telepathing; our race has had the capability for centuries though some of our people are much stronger at it than others." He focused on her, knowing what her next question would be.
"If you can send me messages, can you also read the answer?" she inquired, beginning to understand the ramifications of what he was telling her. She scrutinized him closely as if seeing him for the first time. Had he read her mind from the very first? The thought dawned too demoralizing to contemplate. Shit and shinola, where was a good hole when you needed one?
"I can't read you all the time," he hedged. "You sent me a message while crouched on that rock and I received it; I knew you would die if I could not reach you. I mindspoke Sycor and Bandoff to assist me."
"We mind-melded a force field around you so the Syphors could not hurt you while we dealt with them. It is a fairly rare skill even for our race and those so gifted usually become protectors or bodyguards." Maybe that would take her mind off his ability to read her.
He would not get lucky, however, as she slid off his lap to face him. Her eyes began to glow. She smoldered, definitely on a precipice, and knew what lurked beyond. "Can the others read us too?"
The question caught him off guard and he started, "No, it is a Gattonian trait, we can only read and mindspeak to other Gattonians and none of my crew has the ability to read you, you have only exposed yourself to me." He winced slightly at his clumsy wording. He touched her mind which registered nothing but static, it was going to be a gusher.
She began to pace around the room her hands either clasped to her head or fisted at her sides. He had stilled. This made no sense Cat thought frantically. He could read her mind and send messages to her telepathically, the Gattonians could communicate with each other but not with the women and not with her. Zorroc could read her but not the other women—she was losing it. Was he lying? Could the Gattonians mind read everyone but didn't want to tell her for fear she'd be even more humiliated and incensed and possibly spread the word? She didn't think Zorroc had lied to her before, left pertinent information out, sure, but an outright lie? She didn't think so. So what did that leave? He could communicate with her telepathically and could read her mind sometimes; how much had he read, how much did he know about her? The air around her began to crackle. Could that be the reason he stayed two steps ahead of her and knew what she planned even before she did?
"You say it’s strictly a Gattonian trait, but I’m only part Gattonian.”
“More than half,” he corrected.
She waved her hand through the air as if to brush away his distinction. “If everything you've told me is true, how is it you can read me? And why can't I do the same with you?" she interrogated, fists on hips, doing her best to ex-ray through to his brain to divine the truth or lie behind his words.
"That is a question I have no answer for. I am a strong telepath but not so strong as Prolinc, yet he cannot read you at all. There is a bond between us, my Cat, a truth you can no longer dispute."
She glared at him and demanded, "What am I thinking now!" You snoopy, officious, bossy, conceited, oaf –-she faced him head-on.
He smiled at her and shrugged. "I do not have a clue. You are too upset for anything to come through."
He knew exactly what she was thinking and he sure did not have to mind-probe her to know it.
She pounded her dainty foot on the ground and presented him with her most effective drop-dead, cut him off at the knees, scowl. "I'm going to bed," she growled. "Alone!" The staccato screech loud enough to make him jump.
Cat marched to her mat, climbed in, and gave him one last dirty look, that dared him to approach her, before rolling over and playing dead. He thought that, in general, their talk had gone rather well; she would cool off and forgive him; he would leave her no alternative.
He turned to his mat thinking it had been a very long night. Sycor had reported that afternoon that a mother ship was in transit to their location and would COM them when they reached a good pivot point to the three planets. It could not be too soon for him, he would be better able to protect his mate on Ganz than on some red devil planet. There existed no end to the dangers Cat could find when left to her own devices. Maybe he would tether her to him while they slept to keep her from wandering into disaster, not that he would be sleeping any time soon; Zazu, she had scared fifteen years from his life when he had read her fear.
* * * *
They entered the tent and surrounded her. She felt the first sting just below her ankle and felt it go numb, spreading up her leg to her stomach and beyond. They advanced, crawling on her, sliming her with their sticky coating as they commenced chewing on her legs and shoulder. They gnawed and sucked, eating her alive and she couldn't move, couldn't scream; couldn't even close her eyes. The one eating at her shoulder moved up to her face and after giving her what looked to be a malevolent smirk, closed in to start feeding on her face. Oh God, she could see the constantly moving suckers lining its mouth, moving onto her eye and—
"Stop it Catarina, you are having a nightmare, wake up, wake up now," Zorroc shouted both aloud and into her mind.
She gasped for air and threw herself into Zorroc panting and drenched with sweat. She’d been so sure it was really happening. She looked around tentatively to reassure herself they were not there, frightened that maybe this was the dream and they were still devouring her.
"No, my one, you are with me and safe; be calm, when you become more alert you will see it was just a terrible dream. I would not let them have you, Cat. I came for you the first time and I will always come." He began stroking and kissing her as one would a frightened child. He lay with her on top of him and petted her back to sleep. For the flash of an instant, he thought they really had her. He closed his eyes trying to block the vision.
They remained entwined until late the next morning when word arrived of the attack on Zeba II, the planet that sheltered most of his crew and the women. Sycor stood over Zorroc with a frustrated, hopelessly vexed look on his face. He had been trying to shake him awake. Zorroc opened his eyes and mindspoke that he could have just messaged him; his physical presence was not required nor appreciated. Sycor messaged back that he had been doing just that for the past five minutes with no response. Zorroc grunted, eased off the mat naked and commenced dressing. Sycor noticed the bite on Cat's neck and smirked, all was going according to plan.
"Take your eyes off of her, Sycor." His head shot up briefly meeting Zorroc’s deadly stare then exited mumbling that he would await him outside.
Sycor and Bandoff conversed together quietly as Zorroc approached. "What is the situation," he asked gruffly.
"The message was brief; the Dargons are attacking by air, using exploders so they can target specific people. It seems they are trying to pick off the crew, leaving the women unharmed. Kidnapping seems the likely motive."
"Do we have enough power to trans over, Sycor? The women will not last thirty minutes under Dargon care." Zorroc began reviewing options in his head. They could not leave the women on Zeba II unprotected but the Dargons may have pinpointed the location of their party, as well, which could leave Catarina and the others at risk; bringing them into the battle, however, seemed equally as repugnant
. Cat had to be protected at all costs; she could be carrying the next leader of Gattonia.
"We have enough if we leave the supplies behind, it is our only option, Zorroc, no matter the risks; the women must be kept safe," Sycor stated, glancing past him as Cat emerged from the tent, watching the three curiously.
"We may be the difference between their safety and their death, we are among the strongest telepaths and marksmen on this mission. It is our only choice," Bandoff proffered, dipping his head in the Gattonian gesture indicating deference. Though unaccustomed to voicing his thoughts, the COM he intercepted minutes before, sufficiently prodded him into speaking his opinion. They had to save the women at all costs. He glanced at Zorroc and knew he saw the truth of it. Zorroc turned and focused hard on Cat, told the other two to prepare the women, and headed toward those emerald eyes darting questions at him.
"Our enemies, the Dargons, have found our party on Zeba II, Prolinc and Dee are among them. We are preparing to trans everyone over as soon as possible; they need assistance." He put his hands on her shoulders and began to massage her gently, messaging that everything would work out to their favor. Gattonians were excellent warriors. Suddenly, Cat stiffened to her full 5'3", grabbed him by his uniform, and started issuing demands.
"I’m not going anywhere without a weapons lesson. If I show up not knowing how to use one, these Dargon creatures will never get a shot at me; Dee will kill me first; and who are these erasers and what do they want with us. This is not some random little happening; these guys are rabid for your hides. What have you gotten us into? You can start explaining while you take me for a little target practice; this is not open to negotiation, Zorroc, so get that determined look off your face right now." She stared him down, daring him to ignore her wishes this time. If the situation were not so serious, her fierceness would have amused him.
He sighed. "The weapons are difficult to master, Catarina, I could not teach you in time." He actually looked sorry he could not comply with her request. "The Dargons are our enemies. They are destroyers of worlds; it is their sole purpose, so far as we can determine. They want Gattonia and eventually all of Ganz. We have been the recipient of their tactics for more than a year." He closed his eyes in tired anguish and concluded. "The virus that attacked our females was infused into our atmosphere by the Dargons; their latest contribution to viral warfare. It attacks a female's reproductive organs…sterilization, its most far reaching though not worst side-effect." He could not bear the growing confusion and denial clearly reflected in her wide, innocent eyes yet he continued, deciding to deliver the blow in one Herculean implosion.
"We have mated with your species for centuries as you know and have produced many offspring with you. Your planet, in addition, has been polluted with many varying viral strains over time and the impact on child bearing and birth defects seem to have had a minimal effect on your species. Your immune systems are able to handle these poisons much more efficiently than our own since Ganz has been free of pollutants and sickness for many centuries. The tests we have conducted on your environment, though not conclusive, suggest that your bodies could successfully fight off the virus. These two factors of compatibility and evolutionary adjustments to disease make the women of Earth ideal for our purposes. And that, my little Cat, is the short version of what has brought us to this circumstance." He gave her a half smile of self-loathing and messaged his understanding that he had most likely damaged any chance of her future regard.
Several moments passed while Cat studied Zorroc and then one side of her mouth kicked up into a rueful grin. "So much for clean air," she registered aloud.
"A weapons lesson, Zorroc, it's the least you owe me." He gave her a measured, defeated look, drew his weapon, and instructed her for the next ten minutes.
Chapter Nine
They arrived into an area surrounded by boulders, the women gathered in the center, in prone position, while the Gattonians lined the perimeter, guarding the females and shooting at the enemy. Dee, of course, had weapon in hand, causing a good bit of damage from what Cat could observe until she saw her and jumped up to grip her friend in a fierce hug. "Thank God you're safe, I was worried despite Prolinc's assurances. Did you get a weapons lesson, we could use the help," she finished in her usual matter of fact way.
"Damn Dee, you stink, what did you do, soak in a pool of dung?"
"I got coated with Dargon innards, it's a long story but right now we need to destroy these giant dragonflies, grab a weapon and let's get to it, you do know how to use one of these don't you?"
"I've got it covered, sort of," the last uttered under her breath, as she spotted a small cache of unused blazers protected by a clump of rocks. Cat dove for one, positioned herself next to Dee, and proceeded to practice what Zorroc had demonstrated only a few moments before. It took a little time to master the intricacies of aim, weight, and balance but eventually she succeeded in hitting her targets more than not.
"Wow, these guys look like flying Gorns from that Star Trek episode, don't they. Remember the one where Kirk gets stranded on a strange planet with this large, ugly, scaly creature and they have to fight it out only Kirk won't kill him?"
"You truly are certifiable Cat, shut-up, aim, and fire," Dee stated with suppressed humor. Cat never failed to lighten the worst situation; they’d been under attack for close to two hours and things had been looking pretty bleak, but with the added firepower and her friend beside her, her energy returned.
"So, how's the explosive duo making-out, has he bludgeoned down your door and crawled into the honey pot yet?" Cat teased as she squeezed off another charge. Cat watched Dee blush and scowl while Prolinc glanced over and leered his best cat smile to let her know he had overheard and understood.
Dee decided to get a little of her own back and inquired sweetly, "Who's been chewing on your neck, Cat, is your kitty really a wolf in cat's clothing?"
"As you can see, my cat man has been doing some bludgeoning of his own," she tossed back, inordinately pleased with herself as she popped another Dargon out of the sky.
The revelations leveled by Zorroc answered many of Cat's questions concerning his position and responsibility and how they had landed in their current predicament. He obviously had been charged with the task of saving his race, an awesome and nearly impossible feat. It reassured, rather than discouraged her that Zorroc had been the one chosen with the duty of balancing the women's safety and welfare against his obligation to his people. The two must seem diametrically opposed, at times. No wonder he emanated both unrelenting control and weary resignation. What an overwhelming challenge for one so relatively young. It probably explained why, sometimes, he looked the picture of autocratic superiority, and at others, more like an angry panther, trapped in a cage.
Zorroc witnessed Cat's talent at weaponry and cursed himself for being an arrogant fool. He should have known her declaration of arms use would prove no idle boast. His woman was no ordinary female; he would have to acclimate himself to her way of expressing herself and take nothing at face value. She looked totally at ease with their situation as if she had been a part of his world, and life forever. She was an odd mixture of vulnerability and resiliency and his heart squeezed with unfamiliar tenderness and another emotion he could not name. She did not look defeated by his confession; in truth, she acted relieved. Would he ever understand this female?
One heated gaze followed Zorroc's every move. So far, Sandra had been totally thwarted in her efforts to seduce Zorroc. The other cat men had been easy enough to control, giving her their full attention again and again; why not him? How could she steal his attention from that little bitch? They appeared glued at the hip but there had to be some way to separate them. She’d overheard a conversation between two of the crewmembers and learned that Zorroc wielded a lot of power among his people; if she had to be permanently stuck on some God forsaken planet, she would do it first class.
Her mother had dragged her to every charm school and beauty pageant to groom he
r little girl for the life of leisure they both craved. Sandra counted herself an expert at reclining her way to the top, using any means at her disposal to fulfill her appetence. The Gattonians served as interchangeable widgets to use for her pleasure or to do her bidding. Her mother couldn't help her here, but she’d have no difficulty arranging things to her satisfaction. Obviously, these flying monsters had no interest in harming the women; they steered unerringly clear of them and instead concentrated on the Gattonians. Having Zorroc rescue a damsel in distress would suit her purposes very well.
Sandra knew what it took to dominate men; their larger brain resided below their waist and it fell to her to lead them by it.
Timing was everything, she told herself as she scanned Zorroc's location and her surroundings, looking for the right time to act. She waited until the last possible moment then ran screaming from the protective circle, catching Zorroc's eye in the process. She wanted it to look as if she had panicked, and she got the exact result she had counted on. He surged after her, tackling her some ten feet from the boulders protecting her body with his.
The Dargons reacted quickly trying to pick Zorroc off and grab the female. Suddenly Cat appeared, standing over them guarding their backs.