by Gayle Greeno
Nakum pelted into the room, startling them both. He pulled up short, abashed by his interruption. “Being sorry,” his hand made a fluttering, self-deprecating gesture away from his chest as if to dissipate the abruptness of his entry. “Dey be ready goin’ now. You wan’ say good-byes?” All through his speech Mahafny noted he stared at the ghatt, little side-glances of curiosity, of tentative friendship.
She turned her back on Saam, stared out the window again. “No, I don’t think it’s necessary. I’ll wave them farewell from up here. Give them my best. Give my best to them all. My love.” But she kept watch from the corner of her eye.
He was hunkered down now, hand held steady and unthreateningly in the ghatt’s direction, waiting to see if Saam would bridge the gap of his own volition.
“Saam, maybe you should go with them. Khar needs your support. Take Nakum with you for company as well, if his grandmother will allow it.” The words cost her, far more than she had anticipated as the yellow eyes swept back to hers, searched her through and through. Part of her wanted the ghatt to stay, just for the comfort of his physical presence, the knowledge that if she later changed her mind he would be there, and the thought of leaving such a bolt-hole shamed her. She had made her decision.
The ghatt’s head swiveled back in Nakum’s direction, and the gray nose stretched, seeking, inquisitive toward the waiting hand. He gave a little sniff, a deeper one, then inserted his head under the arm, rubbed along it. As he came closer to Nakum’s pouch with the earth-bond he pulled back. then approached it with wary regard.
Eyes bright with the prospect of a journey into the unknown, an unknown land and civilization, Nakum made a salute of respect and dashed from the room. Saam trotted after him, but not before turning and rubbing against Mahafny’s shins in farewell.
Patience, the ghatta counseled herself, she will not leave me, cannot leave me like this. I cannot follow where she now goes, but I can wait. Wait until the end of the world and beyond and join her in the next if that is what fate has willed me. “Do you hear me, I will wait!” She thought Doyce heard, sensed somehow that the message had been received.
The medicinal smell of the Hospice stung her nose, had made her head throb the whole night through. So tired of the bustlers, the millers-around, the turmoil that continued as they readied for their departure, orbiting around the still, silent center of her beloved. She stared hard at her white paws, flexed her claws as if she could send them scattering far and wide. She, too, craved peace, the peace of perfect harmony and sharing. And then she heard the voices, not from outside but within.
“Khar‘pern, Khar’pern Bondmate, we rejoice in your victory and your growth. Well met, courageous ghatta. The Truth is a hard lesson to learn, but you have made it yours.”
The ghatta picked over several scathing, rude words in her mind, discarded them with an effort of ghatti politesse that made her grind her teeth. Ah, a nip on the collective tail of the Elderdom would justly serve them! “Thank you, Elders, for your words, for your honor. But my ghatti brethren deserve honor too for coming to my aid, empowering me in my time of need.”
A breeze sigh that ruffled nothing else touched her delicate whiskers. A faint voice sounding like Mr’rhah, speaking at last. “Still so obdurate at times. But wisdom gained from one source does not mean wise in all ways. You still have time to learn—and we to teach.”
How dare these mindvoices jabber and pluck at her when she must concentrate to parallel each breath, each heartbeat of her beloved? “I thank you for your’speaking, but I have other concerns here.” Do not distract me! Go tell your tales to some other credulous younglings!
“Ah, she thinks we toy with her, have toyed with her all along. Excusable when one is so torn between our world and the burden of the Chosen. Ah, Khar’pern, think of us less harshly, do not lash out at us—your daws will not shred phantom fears.”
And because it was inevitable, because it was the ghatti way, she bowed her head, acquiesced to the voices, let them sweep her up and beyond and away, though her heart-kernel remained behind, watching, guarding—as it always had, as it always would. Others would watch if she could not, but not with the same unstinting fervor. The voices gamboled and played about her, jostled and tumbled like littermates, and she let herself ascend the first spiral of knowledge, glide past the bend into the second, an escalating climb into the third, where she prepared to halt, knowing and respecting her limits. But then, without volition, without any effort on her part, the slipstream of wisdom swooped her ever higher, lofted her into the fourth spiral!
“Congratulations, Khar’pern Bondmate! You have earned your knowledge and your elevation. Use it wisely and well to scale the spirals and you will succeed.”
And with abrupt surprise Khar found herself still on the blanket, crouched close to Doyce. “Ah, beloved, I have wisdom for both of us! Go where you must go, as you must, but I am here, waiting to share!”
NOTES
Despite the fact that the planet Methuen and the country of Canderis bear a serendipitous similarity to the old Earth origins of its first settlers, history is unclear as to the origins of the ghatti. Some argue for a genetic mutation of the common house cat—aided by the eumedicos and their early fascination with gene-splicing in the pre-Plumb years; others that the ghatti are unique to the planet and their similarity to house cats and wildcats a mere coincidence. Yet others argue for an interbreeding of Earth house cats from the shuttles with the wildcats of Methuen—not impossible or improbable given the lineage of domesticated cats on Earth.
What is known is this: Ghatti show the basic conformation of common house cats with a slight blunting or coarsening of features—an obvious point in both the arguments for an indigenous wild species and for cross-breeding. Ghatti generally weigh from 30 to 40 pounds and are approximately 36” to 40” long from nose to tail-tip. If well-cared for as part of a Seeker-Bondmate pair, their longevity greatly exceeds that of a pampered-house cat on Earth.
No hypothesis or controlled experiment has adequately explained their ability to mindspeak, although besotted cat lovers on Earth have long believed this to be possible. Should this be true, it might well add credence to the ancient Earth stories of “witches” and their feline “familiars.” The ghatti themselves remain stubbornly reticent as to their beginnings and special powers.
PRONUNCIATION
To pronounce ghatti names, simply listen to any cat vocalize. Most names should be given a slightly rising inflection at the end, as if in query.
For example:
M’wa is pronounced much like the French “moi’ with a question mark at the end.
Saam is the equivalent of our word “psalm.”
