Star Cat: Pink Symphony

by Andrew Mackay

  Dreenagh’s mood softened as she looked at her forearm, preparing herself for the next question. "Remy."

  "Yes?"

  "Have you been missing Bisoubisou since she’s been away?"

  Remy stared at his pristine-suited legs and considered the question. "Yes, I do. But she will be home soon."

  It was clear that Vera had no knowledge of recent events at Cape Claudius. She wondered why the aura in the interview was so chirpy. If Remy and his mother and known the truth they might not have been so forthcoming with their answers - or even agreed to the interview in the first place.

  Chrome Valley

  Northwest London, United Kingdom

  Jamie sat cross-legged on the floor of the front room watching Dreenagh’s Individimedia broadcast. His mother, Emily, sat on the couch keeping one eye on the floor.

  Remy and Vera’s holographic representations sat in the middle of the front room awaiting Dreenagh’s next question.

  A toddler crawled across the carpet, trying to grab at Vera’s sparkling shoes.

  "No, Jolene," Emily ran over to her and scooped her off the floor, "It’s not real, don’t touch it."

  "Ga-ga!" she burped and produced a messy grin.

  "Mom, please. I’m trying to listen," Jamie lifted his palm in the air and, along with it, the volume of the broadcast.

  Emily lifted Jolene into her high chair, "Not too loud, poppet. You’ll upset your sister."

  "Not as upset as Remy’s going to be, look," Jamie pointed at Dreenagh, "She knows they don’t know. She’s going to tell him."

  "Oh, Jesus…" Emily lowered her behind to the couch, entranced by the drama that would surely follow, "That woman is a piece of work. Tony, come and see this."

  "History in the making, is it?" Tony appeared at the door to the front room with a cup of coffee. He leaned against the frame and shook his head. "They have no idea?"

  "No, Dad," Jamie turned to the broadcast with great intensity, "Everyone knows but them."

  Dreenagh cleared her throat and dampened her voice. Remy eyes shot back at her, wistfully.

  "Remy, what was your reaction to the breaking news a couple of hours ago?"

  "What news?" Vera asked. "What are you speaking about?"

  "You don’t know, do you?"

  "No," Remy said with innocence, "Is something wrong?"

  Dreenagh closed her eyes. On the surface she felt terrible. In her heart, she knew she had the exclusive story of a lifetime. She’d be the first to break it. Enough for her to continue with her USARIC-like grab for power and glory.

  "Someone broke into USARIC and found Bisoubisou’s body."

  "What?" Remy snapped. "You liar. Is it a joke?"

  "No, Remy. He sent out a message saying that Bisoubisou was dead and still at USARIC."

  "This is quite terriful," Vera snapped. "Bisoubisou is at Saturn helping the Americans find out what the message means."

  "I’m afraid not," Dreenagh held out her finger and drew a large rectangle in from their face. Handax’s face appeared and the broadcast began to play."

  Emily turned to Tony, full of emotion. "I can’t watch this."

  "No, Mom. We need to watch it," Jamie pushed himself onto his feet. Now seven-years-old, he’d grown since he’d last seen Jelly. "It’s always better to tell the truth," he turned to his stepfather for confirmation, "Isn’t it, Dad?"

  "I’m not so sure on this occasion, Jamie," Tony fixed his gaze on Remy’s beleaguered face. "Sometimes we have to tell lies. Sometimes it’s necessary."

  "The scumbags never told them," Emily left the room in a flood of tears. "All this time we thought they knew."

  "Sweetie," Tony walked after her and tried to talk her down from her upset. "It’s not your fault—"

  "—Yes, it is. I took USARIC at their word like a complete fool.”

  Jamie shut out his mother’s grief and concentrated on the interview.

  Remy burst out crying and fell into his Vera’s arms. She was equally as shocked at the news as her son. His mother’s holographic representation pushed through Jolene’s face. She, too, began to cry at the visual of Remy doing the same thing.

  "Jolene, stop it!" Jamie pointed at Dreenagh, “I’m trying to watch."

  Vera hugged her grief-ridden son and screamed at Dreenagh. "My God. Is this some kind of sick joke?"

  "No, Vera. I’m afraid not."

  "It is a lie," she unhanded Remy and stood up from the couch, "You media, you are all the same. Nothing but sensation and lies."

  "Well, I’m sorry but—"

  "—Get out of my house, you scheming cow."

  Dreenagh’s transparent image stood up and held out her hands. "I’m not in your house, technically."

  "That’s not what I meant and you know it," she barked back and pointed at Remy sobbing against a cushion, "You invade my home. You come here, spreading lies with actors with stupid colored hair."

  "I can assure you I am not lying, Vera. Look," Dreenagh displayed her forearm. The ink swirled around to form a number: 1.4M.

  "See that?" Dreenagh asked.

  "Yes?"

  "That’s how many viewers across the world are watching right now. Don’t you think just one of them might have something to say if they knew it to be false?"

  The woman had a point. Remy was way, way ahead of his mother in the grieving process. Granted, that was down to adolescent naivety on his part but, nevertheless, an accurate and fair distance ahead of his mother’s reasoning.

  "Bisoubisou died right there at the Star Cat Trial finals, Vera," Dreenagh said as she watched the dizzied Russian woman slump to the couch. "I’m sorry, but it’s the truth."

  "They killed her!" Remy hyperventilated through his sobs, "They killed my cat—"

  "—Vera, you think the assassination of Viktor Rabinovich and the subsequent expulsion of twenty-three Russian diplomats was a coincidence?" Dreenagh tried to bring the woman to her senses. "Do you see how this ties together?

  Vera stared at the floor in bewilderment. "How could I have been so blind?"

  "You may hate me, Vera, and that’s fine. But I’m a journalist,” Dreenagh smiled at her drone and gave it a sly wink, “My job is to report the truth. You saw it here first, viewers."

  Jamie couldn’t decide which of the three images were more compelling.

  Remy, with the look of fear and devastation on his face.

  Vera, in the midst of coming around to the idea that her life and career was over.

  Or Dreenagh Remix, and her desire for fame and fortune at the expense of tearing a family apart with the truth.

  It was at this moment that Jamie Anderson realized two things:

  1: The world didn’t work the way he thought it did. The same could be said for the universe at large but there was no time to expatiate on it. The world suddenly showed its playing cards as the ruthless, vindictive and painful place it had always been. The same place his mother and, until a few years ago, his biological father had tried to shield from his innocent eyes.

  2: Bisoubisou’s death and subsequent absence was known to him and his mother. Jelly went in her place after accidentally murdering her. Actually, murder, he thought, was a complete misnomer. She was merely defending herself and fought for honor. At the time Jelly was signed up, he and his mother signed a contract non-disclosure agreement. Judging by the Gagarin family interview, it seemed they had avoided a major hassle. Jamie and his mother received the prize money. When he turned eighteen he’d be in receipt of the bulk of it.

  A thought occurred to him as he sat in the carpet.

  If everyone now knew that Bisoubisou didn’t join Opera Beta - who did?

  He assumed that anyone wanting answers - which was everyone and their grandmother - would come knocking at the Anderson household looking for answers.

  One such feisty journalist named Dreenagh Remix could be the first of them.

  "Mom, Mom," Jamie climbed to his feet and ran out of the front room. He used the sound of his mother
’s sobbing as route to find where she was. "Mom!"

  Tony stepped into Jamie’s path, preventing him from reaching the bedroom. "Hey, son. She’s a bit upset. Give her a few minutes, okay?"

  "No, Tony. This is really—"

  "—Don’t call me Tony. I’m your father."

  "You’re not my real dad," he barged past and nearly made the door, only to be caught by the back of the shirt. Tony crouched down and glanced at his vindictive little stepchild in the eyes.

  "What did you just say?"

  "I’m sorry, I—"

  "—I’d appreciate it if you referred to me as Dad," Tony finished, noticing Jamie was desperate to get to his mother. "What’s wrong?"

  Jamie raised his eyebrows with great sincerity. "If everyone knows Remy’s cat didn’t go to Saturn they might think Jelly went, instead. Everyone still thinks she’s the runner-up"

  The boy had a hell of a point. The knock-on consequences of this revelation smacked Tony in the face. "You’re right."

  He stood up straight and made for the bedroom with Jamie’s hand in his. "Come on, son, let’s go tell her."

  Emily’s incessant sobbing flew out of the bedroom and showed no sign of halting.

  Tony peered around the door, not wanting to disturb her moment of sadness. "Emily?"

  Jamie looked up at him with an cherubic smile. His stepfather couldn’t help but feel a shudder roll down his spine. Moments ago he viewed Jamie as just an average little boy. Now, with the astonishing connection he’d made, the little boy seemed more mature.

  Certainly wiser…

  USARIC Research & Development Institute

  Port D’Souza

  (Ten miles northeast of Corpus Claudius)

  USARIC’s R&D institute, much like its headquarters at Cape Claudius, was so big it had its own zip code. Maar had become the sole major shareholder of the company now that Dimitri Vasilov was no longer breathing.

  The research and development institute housed hangers designed to test thruster and engine capabilities. Much of Manning/Synapse’s beta testing of the Androgyne series with the American Star Fleet had taken place at this location.

  This evening, it served as a discreet embassy to protect the one man who’d yet to be assassinated - Maar Sheck.

  He stepped out of the tubular elevator cage and into a vast scientific laboratory.

  Like the animal compound at USARIC HQ this clandestine set-up was as sinister, if not more so. Though he rarely frequented the science division (the nerds and tech-heads had that all covered) he always marveled at the technology on display.

  No such luxuries could be afforded now, though, as Kaoz marched him and Crain along the observatory gangway several feet above the work parapet.

  "How long do I have to stay down here?" Maar walked past a colossal slab of ceramic being polished by six men wearing breathing apparatus.

  "As long as it takes, Maar," Kaoz said. "News has just broken of what’s happened, so you’ll be down here for at least another couple of months."

  "Couple of months?"

  “At least.”

  “Ugh, this is a nightmare.”

  "Unless you want to go up for air and risk getting your head blown off, then yes."

  "God damn it," Maar pointed at the dead of a wall at the end of the gangway. A dim red bulb rotated just above it. "Are they here?"

  "Yes."

  Maar continued down the metal strip and waved them on. "Good, I want a full report on the subject capture, please. They better have good news for me."

  The wall split in two as the men approached toward it. Kaoz lifted his mouthpiece in front of his lips and hit a button on his wrist. "Oxade, this is Kaoz. Come in."

  The sound of an attack vehicle roared through his earpiece. "This is Oxade, over."

  The clandestine bunker lit up as the three men entered. Maar placed his hands on his hips, "So, this is home, is it?" he asked himself as he looked around the featureless room.

  "For the moment, yes," Crain said. "You’re safe here."

  "Do my family know?"

  "Oh! Good Lord, no. They can’t know your whereabouts."

  Kaoz hit a button on the wall, forcing the doors to shut behind him. "Maar wants a sit-rep on the subject capture."

  ***

  The moon was full tonight.

  A female Siamese sniffed around a patch of fresh grass and mud in a desperate hunt for food. The dried flakes of dust began to rumble back and forth like a marbles on a vibrating trampoline.

  Alert, her ears pricked up, "Meow."

  The mud cracked apart as the sound of a furious engine blanketed her from behind.

  She hopped around, trying to find the source of the noise. Two giant headlamps blinded her as she howled for her life.

  P’TATCH! SWISH-SWIPE!

  A brown grid enlarged in front of her eyes. Her feet shot into the air. The tomb of rope tangled in her claws as she somersaulted and landed in the back of a jeep.

  "Maaoooww," she squealed through her soft but venomous prison.

  "Got her," Oxade yelled at the driver from the passenger side of the 4x4. He thumped the USARIC logo on the outside of the door. The Siamese squealed in terror as it clamped eyes on a dozen captured cats in the back. As the vehicle sped through the bumps in the ground, the roped cats slammed into each other.

  "Sorry, Kaoz. You were saying?"

  He clutched the window-mounted machine gun and flicked the attached flashlight to life. The ground illuminated as they sped up, searching for more of the escapees.

  "Maar wants to know how many you’ve caught."

  "Uh, hang on," Oxade turned to the back of the 4x4 and performed a hasty head count, "Around twenty or so. We have other units out looking for them. You know what herding cats is like."

  "Okay, I’ll tell him," Kaoz said before cutting the connection dead.

  Two American bobtails - one orange, one white - hid behind a tree, exhausted from their escape from the compound. Not the fastest of felines, they’d become separated from the others who’d stormed ahead.

  The 4x4’s headlamps began as dots in the distance but expanded the closer they got to them.

  "Meow," the orange bobtail nudged the white’s behind, running toward the Port D’Souza peninsula on the Gulf of Mexico - a glorious stretch of water lit up by the full moon.

  Orange bobtail found the strength to continue toward the section of land that encroached the water, leaving the fatigued white cat behind.

  VROOM, VROOM!

  "I think I can see another one," Oxade said to the driver, "Quick, to the left. Look, there. You can see its stupid cat’s eyes."

  "Meow," the white bobtail exclaimed and ran away from the vehicle’s path.

  Oxade took both handles of the gun as the driver floored the gas, frightening the life out of the cat. It jumped into the air and hissed, bushing up its tail.

  Oxade opened fire on the cat.

  THRAAAA-TA-TAT-A-TAT!

  "Here, kitty-kitty-kitty…" he shouted as the bullets chewed up the grass as it hopped around like a cowboy having its feet fired at it by a drunken ne’er-do-well.

  "Rowwaaarrr!" she screamed, tumbling around the exploding patches of mud.

  "We got a live one," Oxade yelled at the driver, "I think this one’s for the net. Back up."

  The vehicle screeched to a halt, flinging mud out in front of its bumper.

  The hellish red reverse lights sprang on, flooding the white bobtail’s scared face. She turned around and ran off in the opposite direction.

  VROOOOM!

  The vehicle spun its wheels and darted backwards at full speed. Oxade swung the machine gun toward the trunk of the SUV and aimed it at the cat as the vehicle backed towards her.

  "Faster, man. C’mon!"

  "I’m trying," the driver shouted into the rear view mirror. He carefully avoided veering off the already-beaten track.

  "Closer… closer… come on to daddy, you dumb critter," Oxade whispered, aiming the sight down on
the cat’s behind. "Now!"

  He yanked back on both triggers.

  P’TATCH!

  A net blasted out from the barrel and javelined over her as she ran.

  "Got her!"

  SWISH-SWIPE! The net swished across the mud, wrapped itself around the white Bobtail’s hind legs and swung into the air like a fierce fairground ride.

  "Meeoooowwwwaaaaahhhh!"

  She slammed to the opened deck in the back of the vehicles with dozens of fellow captives. The black Siamese clawed and chewed at the rope, trying to burst free. She suddenly looked up at the nasty man sitting atop the roof.

  "Attention, please, my furry friends," Oxade squatted and clapped his hands together, "Now, all of you have been very naughty, haven’t you? And you know what happens to bad pussycats, don’t you?"

  “Hey, Oxade,” yelled the driver as he stepped on the gas, “Stop flirting with them, they’ve had enough.”

  Oxade hissed at the petrified cats, scaring them half to death, "Ha-ha!"

  He thumped his foot on the roof and shouted over his shoulder. "We must have at least thirty of them, now."

  "Where are the rest?"

  "I don’t know, but we’ll get them," Oxade took a final look at the feline captives, "Won’t we, my little pedigree chums?"

  The 4x4 sped off past the trees and into the horizon. The noise from the engine dissipated only to be replaced by crickets.

  Ten seconds later, a wet nose appeared from one of the trees. All clear.

  Then another nose moved out from another tree…

  … and another…

  … until twenty or so female felines of different breeds, sizes and colors emerged, knowing they were safe - for now.

  The leader of the pack, a gorgeous panther-esque Egyptian Mau with silver eyes, howled at the others, wanting their attention.

  Scores of tiny spiders crept across the ground, snaking in and out of their paws.

  The cats clawed back at them, stomping, and squishing a few of the spindly creatures as they scuttled away.

  Mau snarled at the surviving spiders. She roared at the ground, scaring them off.

  The cats instinctively formed a crescent around her and sat on their haunches. They were ready for answers.