Tiger Takes the Big Apple

by David P. Reiter

  ‘Can someone show me how to read this blasted thing?’ the man was saying.

  A younger man took it from him, tapped it here and there, then handed the tablet back to the man.

  ‘I don’t believe it!’ he said. ‘There must be some mistake.’

  He glanced back at the younger man, who simply shrugged.

  ‘By a camel’s nose,’ the man grunted. ‘Our winner is Number 12!’

  A huge cheer went up from the audience, at least the few who had bet on Number 12. Seconds later, two husky men came up to the microphone dragging a very limp bookie between them.

  ‘We caught him in the parking lot,’ one of them said. ‘Trying to make a getaway!’

  ‘I... I...’ the bookie stammered.

  Number 12 and the Crew walked up to them.

  ‘Hundred million bucks,’ Judge Wanda pronounced. ‘That’s a lot of money to pay out. Teach you to gamble!’

  ‘Well, I...’ the bookie said, red-faced.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Number 12 said. ‘We won’t make you pay... all of it.’

  The bookie perked up. ‘H-how much, exactly?’

  ‘All of your winnings – that’s all,’ said Number 12.

  ‘Plus our treasure chest,’ said Tark. ‘That should get Project Beehive well and truly underway!’

  Deafening applause from the audience.

  ‘Well,’ said Tark. ‘I think our work here is done.’ Then he added, ‘And not a hint of Mick and his wrecking crew.’

  ‘Where to next, Chief?’ asked Syd.

  ‘Wouldn’t you like to know!’ said Tark, with a secretive grin.

  in which the Crew have to go a bit batty

  It wasn’t Tiger’s idea of a holiday. There they were, gazing down at the yawning mouth of the huge cave, with only a pathway of mossy – and slippery-looking – rocks between them and what could be a steep drop-off into the dark unknown.

  Wanda, who was, of course, better suited to the terrain, scuttled down to the opening with no trouble or hesitation at all.

  ‘Come on,’ she urged. ‘It’s just a cave, after all!’

  ‘What if there are... ghosts?’ Tiger asked. ‘Or axe murderers? There are always axe murderers in the late night movies!’

  Syd, who had appointed himself Scout to Unknown Places, emerged just then to land next to Wanda.

  ‘Ooh,’ said Wanda. ‘You stink. Did you land in something?’

  ‘Well, of course I had to land,’ said Syd. ‘After I bonked my head on something before my eyes adjusted to the darkness. It was a bit damp and yucky, but that’s what you expect in a cave.’

  ‘Well, did you see anything?’ asked Number 12, still feeling pretty good after his win at Bonneville.

  ‘No,’ said Syd. ‘Even after my eyes adjusted, it was all just another shade of blackness. We need a light. Tark?’

  ‘Your wish is my command,’ smiled Tark. ‘But it’ll have to be dim. After all, we don’t want to scare our hosts.’

  ‘Why the big secret?’ Tiger asked. ‘If you know who they are—’

  ‘Take my word for it,’ Tark said. ‘It’ll be better if you’re surprised.’

  And so, Tiger and Number 12 went slip sliding down the pathway, coming to an abrupt halt just before the pathway dropped even more steeply.

  ‘There’s an echo,’ shouted Syd, just to prove there was one, which proved to be three and then four before the echoing had stopped.

  ‘Lights, camera, action,’ said Tiger, stumbling after Tark, hoping that he would turn something on, however faint, to ward off total darkness.

  ‘What’s the problem?’ asked Wanda, feeling her way behind him. ‘I thought cats had excellent night vision.’

  ‘We do,’ said Tiger. ‘Thanks to our tapetum lucidum.’

  ‘Tapetum lucidum,’ hummed Number 12, just as quickly going ‘ouch!’ when he bumped his head on a jutting rock. ‘Sounds like poetry!’

  ‘I don’t know exactly what it is,’ said Tiger. ‘But Alexander told me all cats have it. Something about making the most of what there is in low light.’

  ‘All right,’ said Tark. ‘A bit of mood lighting now will be OK, but please keep your voices down, so we don’t scare... the bats.’

  A pale green light emerged from Tark’s eyes, casting shadows everywhere that almost made it more frightening to Tiger than walking in the total darkness, but illuminating things just enough so that they could see where they were going. And what was overhead.

  ‘Bats!’ he declared, sticking his tongue out in distaste, even though he knew that no one else would see it. ‘They always keep me awake at home, fighting over the fruit. And then, if I try to scare them away with a fierce meow they use me as target practice with their squishy poos.’

  Wanda giggled. Tiger had never heard a Blue-tongue giggle before, but the thought of Tiger getting splattered with bat poo must have been too much for her. ‘You should have trained them to use a batty litter box,’ she said, her laughter echoing through the cave.

  ‘Very funny,’ said Tiger. ‘But have you ever tried licking bat poo out of your fur? I had to use a whole bottle of Alexander’s mouthwash after that!’

  ‘You’d better go on without me,’ Number 12 was saying. ‘Low overhead from this point on.’

  It was true. The tunnel’s ceiling was dropping to the point where Tiger thought he might have to get down on all fours just like an ordinary cat. But then the cave widened again.

  ‘You might be OK in here,’ Tiger called back to Number 12. ‘Just duck down and—’

  ‘That’s OK,’ yawned Number 12, somewhere behind them. ‘Time for my late afternoon snooze.’

  ‘Are you sure there are bats in here?’ Syd asked Tark.

  ‘Eudora’s drones are never wrong,’ Tark said, producing a holograph of the bats they were looking for. ‘It’s supposed to be a huge colony.’

  ‘They don’t look very big,’ said Wanda. ‘Not like the flying foxes back home.’

  ‘Aw,’ said Tiger. ‘They look kind of cute.’

  ‘But the smell!’ Syd complained. ‘Haven’t they heard of taking a bath?’

  ‘I know that smell,’ Tiger said. ‘It’s bat poo, all right. And we’re probably walking on it!’

  Sure enough, when Tark cast his eyes on the cave floor, they could see globs and even mounds of bat poo.

  Tiger detected some motion on one of the mounds. ‘What have we here?’ he said, widening his eyes for a better view. ‘Oh, yuck, cockroaches!’

  There were several of them, and they were making a meal of the poo.

  ‘Excuse me while I vomit,’ said Wanda, about to cover her mouth with a claw until she seemed to realize what was on it.

  ‘Go ahead,’ one of the cockroaches called up to Wanda. ‘Might make a pleasant change to the menu. I don’t suppose you had any greens for lunch?’

  ‘No,’ said Wanda.

  ‘How about some meat?’ said another cockroach, eyes glinting in Tark’s light. ‘Half digested is always the best!’

  ‘NO,’ said Wanda. ‘And even if I had, I wouldn’t be sharing it with you!’

  ‘GRUM-PY!’ laughed the first cockroach.

  ‘Is this all you eat?’ Tiger asked, feeling his stomach go all queasy.

  ‘Not at all,’ said another cockroach. ‘We’re happy to clean up whenever a bat drops off his perch, or even when a stray bird flies into the cave and loses her way. But those are prize morsels, and they don’t go far when there are a billion of us to feed.’

  ‘I think we’ll leave you to it,’ said Tark. ‘Is this the way to the bat colony?’

  ‘Yep,’ said the first cockroach. ‘But you’d better hurry. It’ll be dusk soon, and you don’t want to get trampled in the rush!’

  ‘Rush?’ said Tark.

  ‘For the cave entrance,’ explained the cockroach. ‘It’s a free-for-all among the Mexican Free-tailed Bats.’

  ‘Learn something new every day,’ said Wanda. ‘I didn’t know that cockroaches could pun.’r />
  ‘Are we in Mexico?’ Tiger asked. ‘I really want to try a proper taco. Not that fake stuff Alexander brings home in Canberra.’

  ‘Sorry,’ said the second cockroach. ‘You’re in Texas. But we could be in Mexico. We cockroaches don’t need a passport!’

  ‘Right,’ said Tark. ‘Like you said, it’ll be dark soon. Inter-galactic Command thanks you for your assistance.’

  ‘Wow,’ said the first cockroach. ‘Are we on Dr Who or something? Where’s the camera?’

  ‘Which doctor?’ asked Tark.

  ‘It’s a TV series,’ Tiger explained. ‘About daleks, cybermen and this time-lord with a sonic screwdriver.’

  ‘Quaint!’ said Tark. ‘Maybe I can watch it after we’ve saved the Earth!’

  They pushed on over the squelchy mounds of poo and between the relentless columns of chattering cockroaches, until the tunnel widened out into a huge cavern.

  ‘I can’t look,’ Tiger said, hiding his eyes with the back of his paw rather than the front, for obvious reasons. ‘Are there many bats up there?’

  Tark cast his eyes up along the cavern wall, showing rows upon rows of bats. As his light passed over them, the bats shuddered.

  ‘Yes,’ said Tark. ‘Many. Stacks. Heaps!’

  ‘1.5 million to be exact,’ came a voice from the darkness overhead. ‘Give or take a few thousand either way.’

  ‘Hello,’ Tark called out. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Up here,’ said the voice. ‘At about two o’clock from your nose and then six stalactites to the left.’

  Tiger felt something whizz past his nose just then, plopping on the cavern floor. More poo, no doubt.

  Tark of course honed in on the exact spot very quickly. Something red glinted back at them from around the bat’s neck – a necklace.

  Looks expensive, Tiger guessed. But he wasn’t game to ask if the jewels were rubies, just in case they were only glass imitations. It might be hard to get the real thing when you were stuck in a cave all day and could only come out after the shops had closed. Or perhaps bats had Thursday Night Shopping, too?

  ‘What shall we call you?’ Tark asked the bat.

  ‘How about the Vampire King!’ the bat said.

  There were titters of laughter around them, which grew louder and louder until it was deafening.

  ‘But that would be show-biz,’ said the bat. ‘Our species is not inclined to suck blood even when we’re desperate. We’re Mexican Free-tails, and I’m the Elder of this cave-clan.’

  ‘Pleased to make your acquaintance,’ said Tark. ‘We bring you greetings from Inter—’

  ‘Galactic Command?’ the Elder bat finished for him.

  ‘Y-yes,’ said Tark. ‘Were you expecting us?’

  ‘He said you’d be on your way,’ said the bat. ‘And so you were!’

  ‘He?’ the Crew said at once, with a loud enough echo that Tiger was sure Number 12 would hear at least the question if not the answer.

  ‘He came in a bubble ship, or at least something that looked like a bubble,’ the Elder said. ‘It was see-through, with some nice strobing lights. We were all impressed, especially us female bats, weren’t we?’

  ‘Yes, oh yes,’ the others shouted. ‘Better than fireworks on the 4th of July.’

  ‘The 4th...?’ Tark said.

  ‘American Independence Day,’ Wanda explained. ‘Every country seems to have one. Good excuse for a holiday and burnt sausages.’

  ‘I get the idea,’ said Tark. ‘But this... man who came in the bubble. Was his name Mick by any chance?’

  The Elder shook her head. ‘Mick? No, I’m sure he said it was Dick. “M” is a soft sound, while “D” is hard.’

  ‘He could have changed it to throw us off the scent,’ said Tiger, narrowing his eyes.

  Tark smiled. ‘And just like an Abell 2218 robot, he wouldn’t change more than one letter in the name to make it different. Abell 2218s process things in absolutes, so even a minor change stresses their circuits.’

  ‘I don’t get it,’ said Wanda. ‘Why would he bother coming here?’

  ‘Listen up, lizard,’ said the Elder. ‘I’ll have you know that we bats make up 25% of all mammals on this planet. Humans have ignored us for too long. They say we’re ugly and that we transmit disease, as if every human were beautiful enough to win a Miss Universe crown. Well, it’s time that the truth came out, and Dick – or Mick, whatever his name was – was more than willing to hear me out.’

  ‘So are we,’ said Wanda. ‘Let it all out... Sister. For the good of the Earth.’

  The Elder narrowed her eyes, but then relaxed somewhat. ‘OK, get your iPads ready – here are a few facts to mull over. Humans think we’re pests, like mice and rats, but we’re more closely related to humans than we are to rodents. We share a common primate ancestor, the lemur. Without us, Earth would be overrun by insects. Our family in this cave alone eats 250 tons of insects every night. Not that we’re doing that for humanity; we actually enjoy eating bugs!’

  ‘What about all the fruit you steal?’ Tiger said, sticking out his tongue at the thought of having to clean his fur after serving as target practice.

  The Elder snorted. ‘Don’t tar all bats with the same brush, cat. My species much prefers the crunch of a fat insect to the ooze of fruit flesh, but let me speak for those other species who can’t be here to defend themselves. For every piece of fruit they “steal” as you call it, we scatter seeds in our poo that can germinate and grow trees of fruit for all to share. Smaller bats work as hard as bees to pollinate plants, helping out the farmers, even those who hate us.’

  Tiger hung his head. ‘I... I’m sorry. I didn’t know all that.’

  ‘That’s because we bats are by nature humble, letting our good deeds speak for themselves. But Dick convinced me that we need to get out there and put our case to the humans.’

  ‘What if they won’t listen?’ Syd said. ‘They never listen to us crows, and we get up close and personal in their front yards!’

  ‘Well, we’ll have our ways of making them take notice – from now on.’

  ‘More ideas from... Dick?’ Wanda asked.

  The Elder puffed up in anger. ‘You think that we have to rely on others to come up with a battle plan?’

  ‘Who said anything about going into battle?’ said Tiger, getting worried at what a billion bats could do in attack mode.

  ‘I smell... Dick at work,’ Tark muttered under his breath.

  ‘I heard that,’ the Elder snapped. ‘But Dick did have some good advice.’

  ‘Such as?’ Syd asked.

  ‘Such as setting up our own orchards from the seeds we... collect,’ said the Elder. ‘Organic, of course.’

  ‘Let me guess,’ said Tark. ‘A food source after human civilization is destroyed by Dick and his robots?’

  ‘Robots?’ said the Elder. ‘But Dick is a cowboy. He even had the spurs to prove it.’

  ‘A cowboy should have a horse, not a bubble ship,’ said Wanda. ‘Think, Sister!’

  The Elder hesitated. ‘I asked him about the horse, but...’

  ‘And?’ Wanda said.

  ‘He said his horse was frightened of the dark, so he had to come by bubble ship.’

  The Crew looked at each other.

  ‘Like we said,’ Tark said, gently. ‘MICK is a robot, commander of a starship fleet from the planet Abell 2218, bent on destroying the Earth and all its species. If he gets his way, there won’t be any orchards – organic or otherwise – left. And no bats, either.’

  ‘That would explain...’ the Elder began.

  ‘What?’ Tiger asked.

  ‘The... plan,’ said the Elder. ‘I called together a council of all bat species where we agreed to attack the humans’ fruit resources – world-wide.’

  ‘A distraction,’ nodded Tark. ‘But the Abells may attack soon. There must be more to it.’

  ‘Yes,’ said the Elder. ‘Much more. By resolution of the EBC – the Executive Bat Council – all bats
are to stop eating insects until further notice, especially those that carry diseases like malaria, dengue fever and Sleeping Sickness.’

  ‘But people don’t get sick from insect bites overnight,’ said Wanda.

  Tark held up a toe. ‘Unless someone speeds up the process. It’s really quite elementary – even for a second-rate class of robots like the Abells. They use radiation to accelerate the activity of the bacteria and viruses so people DO start getting sick almost immediately.’

  ‘So we could have a pandemic overnight?’ said Wanda, answering her own question. ‘That’s dreadful!’

  ‘What a fool I’ve been!’ said the Elder. ‘Taken in by a cowboy’s smile!’

  ‘Sister, we have to head this off,’ Wanda said. ‘Can you alert your council?’

  ‘Yes,’ said the Elder, deep in thought. ‘YES, there is still a way!’

  And so it was at dusk that the Elder sent out her most trusted lieutenant bats to warn each Council member in turn to spread the word through the T-BEN (Transcontinental Bat Echolocation Network) that insect feeding was not to stop, especially in tropical areas, and that no more fruit was to be... harvested from orchards than usual – until the next meeting of the Council could be called.

  It was a very sorry but relieved Elder who wished the Crew farewell just outside the cave at dawn.

  ‘If there’s anything more we can do,’ she said to Tark, ‘don’t hesitate to get in touch.’

  And she whispered something into Tark’s ear.

  ‘What was it?’ Tiger asked him as they spent more than a few minutes washing their paws and toes clean of bat poo in a nearby stream. ‘What did the Elder whisper to you?’

  ‘It’s a secret!’ Tark smiled.

  ‘Come on,’ Tiger pleaded. ‘You know curiosity killed the cat!’

  ‘Oh, all right,’ Tark said. ‘She gave me the password to get on to the T-BEN. Better to have the bats with us than against us, eh?’

  Tiger couldn’t agree more.

  of waterworks and other water sports

  They had just finished washing up when two furry heads and four beady eyes poked up above the waterline. Two sets of very sharp teeth also emerged.