Catacombs

by Anne McCaffrey

  And proper human companions to work with, Balthazar added. Even though the sacred texts tend to belittle their role.

  You are too sensitive, old man. Now then, instead of visiting Mau-Maat, we—and by we I mean you, since they are no respecters of feline-kind, must alert the Galactic Government to this impending catastrophe.

  They just happened to have brought with them from the catacombs the plans for the necessary weapons to fight Apep’s current aspect. Now, Pshaw-Ra knew that all it would take was for Balthazar to use his considerable powers of persuasion to convince the military to build the small devices and employ cats to fight a battle that would daunt the bravest human warrior.

  Once the battle was joined, either the catlings’ deeds would command respect—and even reverence—from the two-leggeds of this galaxy, or they would perish in the attempt. He hoped that wouldn’t happen, naturally. As Balthazar had pointed out, it would be extremely tiresome for him to start his campaign to improve the lot of his race again from scratch, as it were.

  Finding homes for the kittens was a big job. Beulah was supposed to contact ships, space stations, the Galactic Academy, anyplace not among the ships already recatted. Jubal and Ponty took holos of each of the kittens being adorable and attached the kitten’s pedigree papers to each holo. This made a sort of kitten catalog Beulah could send out to potential homes and employers. The response wasn’t quite as wholeheartedly enthusiastic as they had hoped. Some people did not regard them as real Barque Cats and wanted to quibble about the price—or, worse, somehow had not gotten the news that the cats weren’t infected with anything, and didn’t want some “pest-ridden animal” in their ship, station, or compound. Ponty began looking shifty again, since his plan wasn’t working out.

  Meanwhile, Jubal was glad his mom was on the Molly Daise, in thrall to Chester’s daughter Buttercup. She hadn’t liked cats before, but now called Buttercup “Dori’s darling girl” and cooed at and fussed over her as she never had with him. Even with Janina, a trained Cat Person, still onboard, his mom insisted on comming him as often as she was allowed, to ask him stuff about cat care and to hold Buttercup up to the screen to “wave to her daddy.” He was glad to be away from the Molly Daise for that reason if no other. His mother had always been a hard-nosed and rather mercenary farm woman, a dedicated cat disliker. Was she being won over by having the same kind of close relationship with Buttercup that he had with Chester, or were the half-Mau kittens actually able to dominate the will of humans, as Pshaw-Ra had suggested?

  “We have to find homes for these little buggers soon,” Captain Loloma said after tripping over a box that had found its way into the middle of the bridge deck. “One ship’s cat is a nice, soothing, useful, helpful sort of thing. Old Hadley never gave a moment’s trouble. But all of these kittens are going to destroy us if we don’t offload them soon!”

  In spite of Jubal’s and Sosi’s best efforts, the ship was beginning to smell distinctly catty. The kittens had accidents sometimes, or “forgot,” according to Chester.

  They’re unhappy, Chester told him.

  Why? Jubal asked. They have a place to live and food and the crew plays with them, and they have each other.

  Not like we have each other, Chester said.

  Then there was the matter of the cat fur clogging up the ventilation system. That required Chester and Doc going in to herd out the kittens who had nested back there and then carrying in a vacuum tube attached to their collars to suck up the cat hair, which was seriously endangering the ship. That almost caused the milk brothers to mutiny. Why can’t Hadley do it? Chester protested indignantly, mewing loudly and repeatedly. I hate hate hate the way that monster sounds, and it is right next to my delicate ears, and the ducts make it louder.

  You know why, boy. ’Cause we can’t make Hadley understand, whereas you and Doc do get it that if the hair stays in there, the ship stops working and that is not good.

  They didn’t think the kittens would stand for the noise either, but as soon as the motor started and Chester and Doc began walking through the tubes, Junior and three other kittens crowded in behind Chester, and Doc was joined in his ventilation tube by several more kittens, which made it hard to maneuver the hose and hard for the encumbered cats to back out.

  “They’re amazing,” Guillame Pinot said, scratching his head. “It’s like the little devils know somehow what will make things the most awkward and that’s what they decide to do.”

  Jubal figured that was probably exactly what the kittens did, but he was supposed to be on their side so he said, “Naw, they’re just curious. How are they going to learn if they don’t see what the older cats do?”

  But after that, all kittens had to be thoroughly brushed before they went anywhere near the ship’s innards. And the crew started grumbling.

  Pinot’s remark was funny, but others now scowled when they tripped over a kitten, as someone did at least two or three times a day. “Little buggers were supposed to be my early retirement,” growled the assistant engineer. “Instead they’re going to give us all an early death.”

  When he wasn’t actively herding cats, Jubal spent a lot of time at Beulah’s com station. She had free time to chat when they weren’t near a space station or within close com range of other ships. They still exchanged relayed messages with the Molly Daise. That ship’s strategy was to spend an extended amount of time on each landfall, taking the kittens for outings. Of course, they had Chessie to keep the kittens in line, but Jubal bet she was exhausted. When the ship returned to Hood Station and Dr. Vlast went down to Sherwood, he found good homes happy to pay the price of the kittens, with two desperate farmers eager to have them. Mom and Buttercup had gone ashore to work for Mr. Varley, who was running for the Galactic Council.

  At first, Jubal relieved Beulah on short breaks to go to the head or eat, and then one day Captain Loloma said to him, “How would you like a promotion?”

  “I’m not assistant Cat Person anymore?” he asked.

  “Well, in addition to being assistant Cat Person, how about being relief com officer?”

  “Cool!” Jubal said. And after that, he and Beulah slept at different times so he could relieve her during her sleep shift. Her station was partitioned off from the others, and as soon as he took over, he had a circle of small furry observers, at first sitting attentively around his chair and then, as Chester allowed it, one at a time up on the com board.

  There was always low-level chatter from ship to ship as well as government announcements and news. It was interesting and, he realized, a little scary. There was a lot of stuff Beulah hadn’t mentioned to him before, though he was sure it was the kind of thing she must have reported to the captain. Ships had been disappearing—first in a certain sector and then in an ever-broadening area. He listened carefully for the names but none were ships he recognized. Elsewhere, a planetary system identified only as one containing some of the more recently settled planets was having strange weather problems—its sun seemed to be occluded by something causing climactic changes so disastrous to the orbiting planets that the GG had sent thousands of troops and humanitarian aid to facilitate massive evacuations. One thing about galactic news events, though: most of them happened far far far away.

  Chester purred and spoke to him of home and generally chattered, which was unusual for him, but Jubal became aware of an undercurrent as he stroked fur and watched the screen.

  Do it. Send. Now.

  He knew Chester was saying it, but not to him. The kitten on the com’s big mittened paw went out and brought up the cat holos on the little screen he didn’t think Jubal was watching, tapped his own holo, and tapped the send button.

  He kept quiet. The kittens loved putting something over on people, but if Chester was helping them, he wanted to know why.

  “Watch the board, will you, boy?” he asked Chester aloud, as if the cat was his relief officer. “I gotta go.” He pretended to head for the head, but when all feline attention was directed back to the board
, he watched from across the cabin. None of the other crew on the bridge seemed aware of anything peculiar, but one by one each kitten jumped onto the board, brought up its holo and attached lineage paper, and sent it out. It was almost cartoonish, watching the kittens use the computer, but then, he had seen Chester and Pshaw-Ra operate the pyramid ship. Pshaw-Ra must have taught them to do this, and specifically to send their pictures out, though there was no need. He and Beulah had already sent the holos to every potential cat customer they could think of.

  Where were the kittens sending them? he wondered.

  He tried to look it up without being too obvious—he was still playing cat and mouse games with them—but found only a very odd assortment of destinations, most of them to individuals instead of ships or space stations. The kittens had pen pals?

  He asked Chester. To his surprise his friend said, Just help us, boy. They’re turning on us.

  Who? he asked.

  The other people. Kittens are a lot of trouble. With Pshaw-Ra gone and Mother on another ship, I can’t keep all of them in line. The kittens need friends, like you are my friend, or they’ll just go feral. They’re very smart and can open anything. I smell fear on some of the crew.

  Fear? Of kittens? Really?

  Yes. Fear. We smell it and see it in their eyes.

  I think maybe some people still want to think humans are the only sentient species, Jubal said. They think really intelligent animals are unnatural or something. Idiots! Okay, then. When these ones finish sending off their holos, I think we have time for another group or two before it’s Beulah’s shift.

  But these kittens want to watch the com and see if replies come.

  I’m sure they do, but fair is fair and you’ve convinced me. The situation is getting critical. He had heard crewmen calling the kittens little monkeys or demons, and he didn’t like the sound of that. Time for them to go, for sure.

  At Tao Station they got their first real break. A class of touring cadets from the regional space academy passed through just as Ponty and Jubal “happened” to be taking some of the kittens out for checkups with the station vet.

  All of a sudden, a gray and white spotted male called Ciko began crying and scrabbling to get out of his cage. The class moved on, but one of the cadets lagged behind, looking back at the cage.

  “Cadet Shinta, why did you break formation?” her superior demanded. Shinta looked a little younger than Sosi. She pointed at Ciko’s cage.

  Jubal smiled and waved at the commander and hoisted the cage. Ciko cried louder.

  “It’s him, Squadron Leader,” the little girl squealed. Her shrill childish voice carried across the docking bay. She started jumping up and down. “It is my kitty. He’s found me.”

  “Disobeying rules is no way to get what you want, Cadet Shinta,” Jubal heard the squadron leader admonish her as he walked toward the woman, trying to hold onto Ciko’s wildly jiggling carrier.

  “But how can I be a Cat Person without a cat?” the young girl asked. “He says he is mine and, oooooh, look at him, Squadron Leader Kyuti, just look!”

  For a two-pound kitten, Jubal thought the bouncing, mewing Ciko seemed to weigh a ton. Afraid that he might drop the carrier before he reached the girl—and make a bad impression on her superior—he set down the carrier and started to take the latch off. But before he could, a paw flashed out of the wire mesh, the door jangled open, and the gray and white kitten streaked to the little girl so fast his spots blurred.

  Ciko jumped into her arms, purring madly while she giggled and stroked him. The squadron leader made a face and started to say something when the kitten looked up at her, making his eyes as large and bright as possible, as if to beam a command from them into her brain. The squardon leader reached out slowly and touched Ciko’s head, and he arched into her palm.

  “Well,” she told Shinta. “For want of the right cat, we were going to have to change your specialty, but now that he’s arrived, it looks as if he is ready for you to start learning the practical application of your lessons.”

  Jubal was relieved that Ciko had found a person, and was ready to hand him over on the spot when his father appeared behind him and said, “There’s the matter of his price, Squadron Leader … Kyuti, is it? Our ship had to rescue him and his fellow cats at great personal danger and cost to ourselves, and understandably, the crew cannot give these valuable creatures away.”

  Jubal wanted to stomp on the old man’s foot. Ciko dipped his head a little and looked up at them through sad, reproachful eyes, as if he knew exactly what was going on. Well, if Ciko and Shinta had the same connection he had with Chester, Jubal thought, then he probably did know, through her.

  “The Crane Academy is an exclusive private educational and training facility for the children of distinguished families,” the squadron leader said proudly. “Shinta’s family knew of her wish and provided in their legacy the funds for the purchase of a Barque Cat.” She turned to the other students. “Senior Cadet Mallory, you remember where the snack bar is? Please lead the other cadets there in an orderly fashion, and Cadet Shinta and I, and …”

  “Ciko,” Cadet Lin Shinta told her. “Silver Ciko Nugris is his name.”

  “Cadet Shinta, Silver Ciko Nugris, and I shall rejoin you as soon as our business is concluded.”

  But Cadet Mallory said, “There are other kitties on that ship, Squadron Leader Kyuti. May we not see them? It’s been months and months since the others were taken away.”

  “Oh, ma’am, the kittens would love to meet your students—uh—cadets,” Jubal said. “They haven’t had much chance to be around young people. It would be a big favor to our ship—”

  “Possibly worth a price reduction,” the old man put in.

  “—if you would all come aboard. The cadets could play with the kittens while you finalize the arrangement for transferring the credits for Cik—I mean, Silver Ciko Nugris.”

  The cadets bounced up and down in a very unmilitary fashion, and Jubal was sure that back aboard the Ranzo, the kittens were bouncing up and down too. Somehow he thought it was all part of their great feline plot—the one begun by Pshaw-Ra. But it would be so great if a home for Ciko was only the first, and the other kittens would soon find people as in love with them as little Cadet Shinta was with the spotted guy.

  It turned out that Cadet Mallory had an ulterior motive for backing up Cadet Shinta. Some of the kittens ran and hid, but about ten peeped their little fur-fringed heads out from around doors or from under chairs and bunks. One saw Cadet Shan Mallory and let out a “Meh?”

  “There you are!” the cadet cried. “Ice Cream, it’s me, Shan!” That was the last she spoke aloud for some time, as another gray and white kitten, this one with a spot on his nose, snuggled into her arms and they communed—he purring, she stroking, but exchanging vital impressions and information, Jubal felt sure.

  Meanwhile other ships that had been transiting near the station started docking, and visitors requested permission to come aboard.

  “Why all the company all of a sudden?” Captain Loloma asked.

  “It’s the kittens’ pen pals, sir.”

  “Their what?”

  “These kittens are much like Chester—they can call to someone they connect with, as long as that person is within a certain range. They’ve been sending their holos out to the people they like on the nearby ships.”

  “They have? You mean you have?”

  “Whatever you say, sir.”

  “Good work, boy. Good work.”

  In the days that followed, a dozen more kittens were collected by their own close personal friends from the ships docking at the station.

  “Clever of the little devils to form their bonds with people who can afford the ransom,” the old man said, rubbing forefingers and thumb together in a mercenary gesture. He leaned forward and said quietly into Jubal’s ear, “Though I think if any of the customers had backed off, the crew would have made them an offer they couldn’t resist.”

 
“I wonder how long it will take those people to realize the little beasts are more trouble than they’re worth?” the second assistant engineer growled when the new cat owners and their small partners had departed and their credits were deposited.

  Jubal responded hotly. “You wait and see. These are going to be the best Barque Cats ever. They just need a job they can do and someone to love them.”

  The job was coming much sooner and was much more vital than anyone could have predicted.

  CHAPTER 23

  CHESTER ON THE RANZO

  The crew and even Jubal had been blaming the kittens for the smell of cat pee that no amount of ventilation or vinegar spritzing dispelled. Although half of the little dears had by now found true love with their human partners, the pee smell just got stronger. By then I knew it wasn’t all the kittens. It was Hadley.

  Rather than rat him out to Jubal, I decided to take it up with the old boy myself. He was sleeping on Sosi’s bed. “Hadley,” I asked, when he opened one eye, “why are you peeing on everything? Are you jealous because Sosi is spending so much time with the kittens?”

  “Uh—no,” Hadley said, jumping down to go to his water bowl and refuel. He was coming back to sit down when he let fly all over the deck. “No, not jealous. Sosi is mine. She only loves me. I’d help her play with those pesky kittens myself but the truth is, Chester, I don’t feel good. I’m tired all the time and—’scuse me, I’m a little dry. I need another drink.” So he took another drink and then immediately had to pee again. Something was very wrong.

  I contacted Jubal and told him Hadley was sick. He came right away, as I knew he would. He knelt and stroked Hadley, who cried a little.

  Guillame Pinot, the ship’s medical guy, came to Sosi’s cabin. Sosi, for once not carrying a kitten, was right behind him.

  “Sosi, when did Hadley start urinating in your bed?” Pinot asked her.

  She shrugged and cast her eyes down. She sat on the wet bunk beside Hadley, stroking his fur. “I used to pee the bed too. He’ll outgrow it,” she said. “I did.”