Star Cat: Infinity Claws: A Science Fiction & Fantasy Adventure (The Star Cat Series - Book 1) (2nd Edition)

by Andrew Mackay

  "You hear that?"

  "Yes," Jaycee said, "Sounds different to the one we’re used to hearing."

  "We’re closer to the signal so the quality is better. Pause playback, Manuel."

  "Yes, commander."

  The hissing stopped. Everyone’s attention turned to the diagram of Space Opera Alpha.

  Katz walked up to Tripp and addressed the crew. "As far as Commander Healy and I can see, we have two options. One, we establish a Task and Finish protocol to rescue whatever we can of Alpha."

  "What’s the second option?" Bonnie asked.

  "We ignore Alpha entirely and continue our course to Enceladus proper."

  "In other words, we do what we’re supposed to?"

  Katz sighed. "I need to report back to USARIC and notify them of our unanimous decision to investigate Alpha. For that, we need consent from every soul on board this ship, as per The Infinity Clause."

  Tripp looked at each crew member. Most seemed to be on board with the rescue attempt - all except Bonnie.

  "Can we, in good conscience, ignore Alpha? Can we continue our mission to Enceladus knowing that we ignored our colleagues and left them for dead?"

  Katz interjected. "Dr. Whitaker, can I ask you what the problem is?"

  Everyone turned to her for a response.

  "Sure," she said. "We don’t know what state the ship is in. We don’t know what happened to Alpha. What if they’re all dead? Or something has happened to them? We could suffer the same fate."

  "The fate of being hidden on the dark side of Saturn’s sixth moon?" Tor suggested, somewhat sarcastically, "That we were okay all along and went missing, only for our friends to come poking around and ignore our cry for help?”

  “That’s the point, Tor,’ Bonnie interjected, ‘Alpha isn’t crying for help. It’s just there. You seem very keen for us to board and investigate," Bonnie turned to the holograph of Space Opera Alpha, "Opera Alpha isn’t reaching out to us. If they were alive they’d be yelling at us to rescue them."

  Tor ducked his head and folded his arms. He didn’t have a response.

  "What if they’re unable to reach out for help, Dr. Whitaker?" Katz attempted to balance the odds, "If, somehow, they’re unable to communicate for whatever reason?"

  "Then that’s a bunch of souls aboard a spaceship I don’t want to go anywhere near."

  "So you’re saying no, Dr. Whitaker?" Katz asked, disappointed. "We discover that Alpha is there and don’t investigate?"

  "I’m not saying no," Bonnie scanned her crew mates the table, "Oh, come on. Am I the only one here who’s concerned about this change of course?"

  Tor and Baldron looked away.

  Jaycee couldn’t look Bonnie in the eyes.

  Haloo, Tripp, and Katz, on the other hand, had no compunction in demonstrating their desire to rescue the ship.

  "What’s the first rule?" Bonnie asked. "Be skeptical. Question everything. My question is this. Why did Alpha go missing? Why is it back? Why is it being used by a moon to transmit a message."

  "We don’t know, Dr. Whitaker," Tripp said, "Are you saying you don’t want to find out?"

  She shot him a look of disdain, knowing full well that her superior was correct.

  "Ugh."

  "Okay, all those in favor of diverting course to check out Alpha raise your hand. Ayes?"

  Everyone’s hand rose into the air. Everyone, that is, except Bonnie’s.

  Tripp gave her a smile, keeping his hand up. "Dr. Whitaker?"

  "Fine," she caved in and raising her hand, "But I want it on record that I’m not happy with this."

  "Looks like the ayes have it. Unanimous," Katz made his way out of the hub, "We are less than twenty hours from Opera Alpha. I suggest you all orient yourself as you see fit and prepare for contact."

  Katz reached the door and turned around to Wool ar-Ban. "Can you wake up our feline guest, please?"

  "Yes, Captain," Wool joined Katz and walked out of the hub.

  Tor turned to the others and shook his head. "I keep forgetting that stupid cat is on board."

  "Don’t call her stupid," Tripp said. "She might just be the key to what we’re looking for."

  "Yeah, right," Tor said, kicking his chair away from the console in defiance. "She’s more trouble than she’s worth. Landaker, can I have a word, please?"

  "Yes."

  The pair walked out of the hub talking to themselves, leaving Bonnie, Tripp, Haloo, and Jaycee to chat amongst themselves.

  ***

  Wool leaned over Jelly’s hyper-sleep pod and hovered her finger over the release switch. A smile crept across her face as she took a moment to absorb the beauty of the creature.

  "Look at you, honey," she whispered, "You look so peaceful. So perfect."

  Jelly looked as comfortable as could be, resting face-up toward the glass.

  "There’s a lot to play with up here. I think you’re going to like it."

  Wool hit the button.

  The glass retracted along the length of Jelly’s body. A few strands of fur lifted into the air as she shuffled around, still unconscious.

  Wool put on a pair of plastic gloves and reached into the pod. She stroked Jelly’s stomach with her knuckle. The monitor attached to the unit began to beep, indicating that Jelly was about to wake up.

  "Jelly?"

  The cat opened her eyes and lifted her paws to her face. She wiped her brow and spun onto her side.

  "There we go," Wool reached in and lifted Jelly under her arms.

  "Meow," Jelly grunted, exercising her vocal chords for the first time in over a year.

  "Good girl," Wool whispered and cradled Jelly in her arms. "Take your time, honey."

  Jelly shuffled around and kicked her hind legs forward, stretching every muscle in her body. She licked her lips and dug her paws into Wool’s inner-skin suit.

  "Hey, gorgeous. How are you?"

  Jelly licked her lips again and clung to Wool’s arm. She let out a whine, fascinated by her surroundings.

  An infinite playground surrounded her.

  Desks, monitors, and chairs - ample opportunity to mess around, discover things and hide.

  "Meow."

  "Yes, Jelly," Wool walked over to the lab’s bench in the middle of the room. "This is your new home."

  Wool set her on the bench. Jelly jumped from her arms and immediately made for the edge. A five-foot drop to the floor didn’t seem like much of a task.

  "Oh no, no, no," Wool grabbed Jelly and slid her back along the bench. "Not yet you don’t, honey. I need to inspect you."

  "Meow." Jelly struggled to release herself from Wool’s clutches.

  "Hold on, girl."

  "Look at me, Anderson," Wool took out a mini flashlight and shone it in Jelly’s face, "Left eye, please."

  Jelly’s orange pupil focused on Wool’s face.

  "Seems good. Right eye, please."

  The light zipped over to Jelly’s other eye. Wool look around for signs of anything that may be untoward.

  "Yep. Looking good."

  "Meow."

  "All set. A bit dilated, but nothing to worry about.," Wool ran her hand along Jelly’s back smoothing out her fur. "Hungry?"

  Jelly ran the side of her head along Wool’s hand and purred.

  "Very good, Jelly. Very good."

  Wool ran her thumb over Jelly’s right shoulder and observed the scar where the chip had been implanted. "Manuel?"

  "Yes, Wool?"

  "Can we synchronize our guest with your coordinates, please?"

  "Of course."

  The holographic book appeared from out of thin air and flashed a green locater against a map of the ship. "J. Anderson is currently in the hyper-sleep quarters."

  "Yes, I know she is. She’s right here."

  "Meow." Jelly launched into the air and tried to claw at the holographic book. It flew backwards in an attempt to evade capture.

  The book fluttered to the other side of the bench. Jelly turned around and ma
de for it once again.

  "Ha. Jelly, it’s no use, honey. You can’t touch Manuel."

  "Meow."

  Jelly swiped at Manuel but missed as he hovered several feet into the air.

  "I know she can’t touch me," Manuel said, "But she scares me."

  "She’s just a cat, Manuel."

  "I realize that. I think I’ll just stay up here for a moment."

  Wool chuckled and lifted Jelly under her arms, "Come here, honey."

  "Meow."

  Jelly threw her arms over Wool’s shoulder and kept looking around as they made their way out of the hyper-sleep quarters.

  Wool carried Jelly through the hyper-sleep concourse - a long corridor with boxes and attached units on either side of the wall.

  "Now, if I let you down do you promise not to run off?"

  "Meow."

  "I’ll take that as a yes."

  Wool squatted and released Jelly onto the ground. "Enjoy yourself while you can."

  The cat wasted no time exploring the concourse. She bolted to the far end as fast as her legs could carry her.

  "Whoa. Calm down, honey," Wool yelled.

  Jelly reached the far door and found that it wouldn’t open. She whined and knocked it with her head.

  Then, the door slid open, startling her. "Meow."

  She looked up the legs of the man standing in front of her. Tripp looked down and smiled.

  "Ah, she’s awake."

  "Yes, Tripp," Wool said, hopping after Jelly. "Just stretching her legs."

  "I can see that," Tripp looked at the mischievous cat. "Wearing yourself out, are you?"

  "Meow."

  "Such a good girl," Tripp crouched down and offered her his hand. She ran her face along his fingers. "How long till we suit her up?"

  Wool scooped Jelly into her hands and looked at her face. "We’ll get her fed and let her get her energy up. Shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours to suit her up."

  "Very good," Tripp began to walk away.

  "Tripp?"

  "Yes?"

  "We’re going to be okay, aren’t we?"

  "Of course we are."

  "What with the change of course and everything?"

  "Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t we be?"

  Wool placed her face on top of Jelly’s head and breathed in. "If something happened to Jelly, I’d never forgive myself."

  "Wool, look," Tripp walked back and offered her some reassurance. "We’ll be fine. Androgyne will check Opera Alpha out first and let us know what’s happening. There’s absolutely nothing to be afraid of."

  "I know," Wool muttered. "That’s what’s scaring me."

  "What, you’re scared because there’s nothing to be scared about?"

  "Yes," Wool half-chuckled at her own revelation. "Something doesn’t seem right."

  "Exactly," Tripp smiled. "That’s what we’re here to fix."

  CHAPTER NINE

  Daryl entered the control deck at the front of the ship and made his way to the pilot’s seat.

  Tor Klyce busily tapped away on the board on his communication panel.

  "Tor, any response from Opera Alpha?"

  "I’m patching into their network now, Captain."

  "We’re off record, Tor. You can call me Daryl for the time being," Katz strapped himself into his chair. He flipped two red switches which created a polymorphic grid on the screen overlooking Saturn. "Hit the radio on frequency zero-five-four-niner."

  "Understood."

  Tor unhooked the comms device and squeezed it in his hand. "This is USARIC vessel Space Opera Beta, communicating on a frequency of zero-five-four-niner. Do we have contact?"

  Nothing but a short burst of static came from the speaker. Tor held the button down again.

  "I repeat, USARIC vessel Space Opera Beta, communicating on—"

  A short burst of warbled static shot through the speaker, cutting Tor’s announcement.

  "What was that?"

  Katz turned to him in haste, "Try again."

  "Space Opera Alpha, do you read us?"

  The warbled sound dampened down into a familiar hiss.

  "I’m not sure what that interruption was."

  "—Everything okay, here?" Baldron Landaker walked into the control deck and adjusted his inner-suit sleeves, "Do we have contact with Opera Alpha?"

  "Not as such, no," Tor turned a dial on his control bank, "Just a weird static. Erratic at best, and we can’t do anything about it."

  Baldron punched his mechanical fists together and looked over at Katz. "We still on with them?"

  "Yes we are, Baldron," Katz returned to his controls. "Just making up our revised route to the docking bay, now. Is Androgyne prepped?"

  "Jaycee and Tripp are with her now," Baldron slowed his speech. The enormity of Saturn and her rings overwhelmed him for the first time since waking up. "My God, would you look at that. She’s a beast, right?"

  "Yes she is," Katz said as he punched the data into his computer, "Alas, she’s not where we’re headed. See that tiny white dot, top-left?"

  "Yes," Baldron walked over to the flight deck. He stood next to Katz and took in the view.

  "That, there, is Opera Alpha," Katz said. "We’re just a few hours away…"

  N-Vigorate Chamber

  Level Three

  Tripp and Bonnie entered the smallest compartment aboard the spaceship.

  A circular hub with a diameter of exactly fifty feet.

  Tripp made a beeline for a silver-coated ‘woman’ resting on an electric chair at the opposite end of the room.

  "You think she’s up for the job?" Bonnie asked, following behind Tripp.

  "With a one hundred percent success rate?" Tripp asked, "I’m surprised we haven’t been replaced by the Androgyne series altogether."

  "Yeah," Bonnie shot the sleeping droid a stern look, "Look at her. A useless piece of junk."

  "Until we boot her up, that is," Tripp felt the side of Androgyne’s neck. The droid was extremely lifelike. He pushed her earlobe out with his knuckle, revealing a small tattoo on her neck which read Manning/Synapse.

  Tripp nodded over to the gears on the desk beside Androgyne’s chair. "Bonnie, hit the juice."

  "My pleasure."

  She walked over to the lever and yanked it back.

  The droid’s chair lit up and vibrated.

  "Activating Androgyne," announced a female voice.

  Tripp took a step back, allowing the droid some space. "Moment of truth."

  Bonnie smirked and scratched the side of her leg. "She’s such a show-off."

  Androgyne’s eyelids lifted to reveal her crystal blue eyes. She blinked a couple of times, emotionless and peaceful. A faint sound of the mechanics operating her joints could be heard.

  Finally, she performed a smile. To say it was anything other than lifelike would be a gross understatement.

  "Oh, my. I am awake," Androgyne said, lifting her head forward slightly. "Good after-morning, Tripp Healy. Dr Whitaker."

  "It’s actually evening by our watches," Tripp smiled at her. "But we forgive you. It is dark outside after all."

  "Is it not always dark in space, commander?" Androgyne blinked twice and tilted her head left and right.

  "How are you, Androgyne?" Bonnie asked.

  She turned her head to Bonnie and went to stand out of her chair. "I need to calibrate, could you please—"

  A thick cable attached to the back of her head yanked back, throwing her bottom to the seat once again.

  "Whoa. Easy, tiger," Tripp moved forward and held Androgyne by the sides of her face. "You’re still plugged in. Don’t move."

  "Plugged in?"

  "Yes, uh, give me a second…"

  Tripp reached around the back of her head and lifted her hair up. The cable came free as he twisted it away from the top of her neck. "There, you’re free now."

  "What was the problem?" Androgyne asked. "Was there something on my head?"

  "Uh, no," Tripp shot Bonnie a threateni
ng stare. She tried not to laugh.

  The Manuel

  Pg 11,256

  The Androgyne series first came to fruition in the year 2075. It was designed to replace canaries on space missions, to use the laymen vernacular.

  Official estimates are unclear but, since records began in the early twentieth century, an estimated three hundred birds had been used on missions and all but two of them died on their expeditions.

  They were used to test the atmosphere and oxygen levels of planets, in much the same way miners did when scavenging the depths of the Earth.

  Due to the extreme upheaval caused by PAAC, People Against Animal Cruelty, the decision to abandon guinea pigs with wings (the nomenclature associated with canaries in such conditions) was enacted. They were replaced by androids with a human brain and organs.

  The Androgyne series is commonly referred to as a simple machine. It operates much like a human: it requires oxygen to breathe. It desires attention and a sense of belonging and purpose.

  Unlike a human being, however, the Androgyne does not know that it is not human. It is therefore essential that any and all crew members oblige the android accordingly.

  On the 21st October, 2102, USARIC, together with the Androgyne series company, Manning/Synapse, conducted an experiment.

  Under controlled conditions, they hooked up an early series droid to an E-MRI scan and attached its wrists and ankles to a rejuvenation console. In other words, it had its power cable attached to the back of its neck.

  The lab technician entered the room and proceeded to tell the droid that it had been remanded in custody. That ‘she’ was under suspicion of attacking a crew member.

  It was absolute lessense.

  The series 1.0 Androgyne had committed no such crime. Naturally, she questioned the veracity of the claim. The E-MRI reported that the droid was capable of feeling confused and angered. That particular aspect was checked off the lab technician’s list.

  Also ‘checked off’ the lab technician’s list was the ability to breathe properly when Androgyne strangled him a few moments later.

  He had told her that she was not human - that her ability to recall basic prior events was not a function built into her programming.