Empire of the Space Cats (Amy Armstrong Book 2)

by Stephen Colegrove

  Sunflower turned away. “That reminds me––I’m still hungry. Give me a call if you need anything else.”

  “Always nice to have friends that care about you, I always say.”

  Sunflower looked over his shoulder. “You never say that.”

  “I just did.”

  Philip cleared his throat. “Emperor Sunflower of the Western Range, the time has come to abdicate your throne.”

  “Abdi-what? No, I had that operation when I was a kitten.”

  “Sorry for the confusion. ‘Abdicate’ means to leave the throne.”

  “Fat chance! I’ve never had so much fun in my life, and I’m just getting started.”

  “We know,” said Amy. “We saw your speech.”

  Sunflower bared his fangs. “Do you know what’s like to be the most important cat in the universe? To have the entire population hanging on your every word? This is my chance to fix cat society––to make it perfect!”

  “You don’t have that right,” said Amy. “You’re not really the Emperor, and you don’t belong in this dimension.”

  “None of us belong here.” Sunflower lowered his voice to a whisper. “How does place and time, right and wrong matter anymore? The Lady killed the only cat I ever loved, and I’m going to squeeze the last bit of fun out of life while I can.”

  “She didn’t kill your wife,” said Amy. “The Lady sent her on a mission to look for the gold Super Nintendo, just like she sent you.”

  Sunflower flipped the yellow cape over his furry back. “It makes no difference.”

  “I don’t believe this. Are you seriously going to abandon your friends?”

  “I’m not abandoning anyone. You can stay in the palace as long as you want. What I’m seriously not going to do is go with you.”

  A sliding door to Sunflower’s left rattled loudly, but stayed closed. A stream of mumbled curses came from the other side, and then a white cat burst through the center of the door in a shower of torn paper and wood fragments.

  “Furball!” shouted Sunflower. “What in the name of Saint Mittens is wrong with you?”

  “Many apologies, Highness, but we have an emergency!”

  “Spoiled soup or a fire in the kitchen? Go find Sooka Black.”

  Furball shook his head rapidly. “The spaceport is being attacked!”

  “Which one?”

  “Central.”

  “Attacked by what? Show us, you fool.”

  Furball darted back the way he had come with Sunflower, Amy, and Philip scrambling after the long-haired cat. Inside a small closet lined with electronics and screens for security cameras, the cat pointed to a live feed of the spaceport tarmac and the White Star. A dozen tentacled spheres swarmed around the ship, firing crimson beams of energy at targets off-screen.

  “I don’t know how they broke through the air defenses,” said Furball. “Maybe disguised as meteorites? That doesn’t make sense. Do you think it’s an attack by the dog military?”

  “They’re inspectors, not canine robots,” said Sunflower. “You can tell by the two extra tentacles. But where in the name of Saint Mittens did they come from?”

  “The Lady must have sent them,” said Philip. “Three dozen of the beastly things attacked us at the equator.”

  A scrabble of claws came from the hallway and Sooka Black appeared with a handful of cat soldiers.

  “Your eminence! We’re being attacked!”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “Apologies, sire. What are your orders?”

  Sunflower rubbed the side of his furry jaw. “What military units do we have in the area?”

  A cat in a red beret stood on his hind legs and saluted. “Your Highness! Two regiments of armor, a mobile infantry division, three battalions of anti-air, one full division of regular infantry.”

  Sunflower slammed a paw onto the security console. “Send in the armor. These second-hand dog robots would chew up our infantry like kibble in a bowl.”

  “By your command,” said the soldier, and darted away.

  Sunflower unhooked his yellow cape and stepped out of the security closet. “Let’s go.”

  “To the command bunker?” asked Sooka Black. “A good decision, highness.”

  “Absolutely not! Take me to the spaceport. I’m not hiding while my friends are in danger.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  A beam of scarlet energy struck the concrete barrier with a loud crack, spraying bits of glowing rock on the orange tabby and two humans huddling behind it. The air was filled with the dull thud of artillery explosions and the ripping-cloth sound of automatic rifle fire.

  “This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done!” yelled Sunflower. “I should have stayed at the palace!”

  “I thought you were the smartest cat on the planet!” shouted Amy. “That’s what you keep telling us!”

  “What?”

  Amy covered her ears from the deafening noise of battle and peeked around the left side of the concrete barrier.

  Normally the spaceport was packed with gigantic oblong cat spacecraft, but almost all had evacuated. The vast expanse of gray tarmac was mostly empty, apart from a pair of burning bubble cars and the scattered bodies of dozens of cat soldiers. The huge silver barracuda of the White Star stood parked in the same place Amy had left her. Dozens of metal, octopus-like inspectors hovered over the graceful ship, banging or scraping at her gleaming skin with sharp tentacles. Despite the ferocious effort of these hovering machines, none seemed to have made even a scratch on the fuselage. Several of the robotic monsters flew circles around the stationary ship, firing deadly beams of energy at anything that moved. Amy squinted at the bodies on the tarmac, trying to see if any were Betsy, Nick, or Sunflower’s parents.

  “Bring us the cat named Cynthia MacGuffin,” boomed one of the inspectors in a mechanical voice. “You will not be harmed. Organisms experiencing harm must submit evidence of harm in writing to receive harm-related refreshment coupons.”

  The inspector shot a crackling beam of energy at Amy, and she ducked behind the barrier.

  “Stop doing that!” yelled Philip.

  “Sorry!” Amy turned to Sunflower. “I have to tell you something.”

  “What?”

  “Your parents––they’re somewhere around here!”

  “My what? I can’t hear you.”

  Without warning, the artillery barrage from the cat military stopped, leaving a faint ringing in Amy’s ears. A series of distant impacts vibrated the broken concrete under her fingers, the crunch and boom sounding like a giant stomping through his castle.

  “Keep your heads down!” yelled Sunflower. “Here comes the armor!”

  Amy shielded her eyes from the sun and looked toward the eastern runway of the spaceport, where a group of tiny gray dots curved through the air, causing a faint boom each time they hit the tarmac. As they jumped closer, the gray dots grew in size and the intensity of the impacts increased.

  Each armored unit was the size of a large sedan and shaped like a mechanical tiger, smoky gray in color with black stripes painted down the steel flanks. The four legs smacked into the tarmac with a thud, and the ferocious machine leapt high, jump-jets on either side firing brightly and pushing it up and forward through the air. Sharp teeth were painted on the blunt “head” of each machine, above and below a narrow, curved window. Inside the jaws and behind the glass, Amy thought she saw a white helmet. The armored tigers thumped into the tarmac and flashed by with a roar, as fast as a horde of gigantic fleas.

  “Crikey!” shouted Philip.

  “Pride of the empire!” yelled Sunflower. “They’ll rip those inspectors apart!”

  A few hundred meters from the White Star, the armored cats unleashed a barrage of missiles from pods on their backs, firing white trails of smoke at the apex of each jump. A second before impact, the missiles burst into halves and drilled into the silver spheres with a dense, uranium-tipped rod. Many of the inspectors fell to the tarmac, tentac
les limp and black smoke pouring from their metal shells. The remaining spheres fired back at the armored units, sending dozens of scarlet energy beams crackling through the air. The closest armored units were struck multiple times. Halfway through a leap, one armored tiger tumbled head-over-heels and crashed into the tarmac, flame and smoke pouring from the wreckage.

  The ground shook violently and tossed Amy into the air. A steel-gray tiger with “L047” painted in white on its left side stood ten meters away, legs spread on the newly-cracked tarmac and white fangs painted on the nose. The turbine engines whined loud and blew shimmering heat from large exhaust tubes on either side of the tail.

  The machine clanked forward, each step vibrating the concrete, until it stood next to the barrier. A high-pitched breeze blew Amy’s hair in all directions. Behind the glass cockpit at the mouth, a cat pilot touched the front of his blue helmet.

  “Stay down, your highness,” crackled his voice from a speaker. “I am here to protect you.”

  “Good!” yelled Sunflower.

  The deadly beams of the inspectors had brought down another armored tiger, which lay on its side, legs askew and black smoke pouring from the charred metal. Too close for missiles now, the rest of the armored cats leapt at the inspectors, using their diamond-tipped claws and tons of weight to pull the tentacled monsters down to the tarmac. Once on top of the enemy spheres, the armored machines used their front and back legs to rip them apart like kittens on a ball of yarn. Within less than a minute the fighting was over, and all that could be heard was the whine of turbine engines and the crunch of armored footsteps on the concrete.

  Amy looked around the side of the barrier. “Looks like the coast is clear. All the inspectors are dead.”

  “Not too soon, either,” said Philip.

  Sunflower looked over the barrier. “Betsy!”

  “Wait!” shouted Amy.

  Before she or Philip could grab him, the orange tabby leaped over the top of the concrete wall.

  On the tarmac not far away, the Jack Russell terrier had squirmed out of whatever rock or crate he’d been hiding under and trotted with his tail wagging toward the smoking ruin of an inspector. The dog was oblivious to the still-twitching tentacles, one end of which glowed scarlet.

  Amy pushed Philip’s hands away and vaulted over the wall after Sunflower. The cat made it to Betsy and yelled in the face of the happy terrier, just as the armored tiger flew over Amy, the hot breeze of his engines blowing her skirt and hair. It landed with a deafening crash on the body of the charred, half-dead inspector, but the end of one tentacle still glowed, and still pointed at the arguing Sunflower and Betsy.

  Amy sprinted harder and leapt at her friends Pete Rose-style, pushing them out of the way with both hands. A heavy force smashed her in the chest––hard and hot, like a ball of lava flung from a volcanic pitching machine. She curled up and screamed.

  HANDS MOVED under her shoulders and lifted her off the tarmac. Sounds and smells whirled around her in the darkness: the clank and thump of armored tigers, the shouts of sergeants to their cat soldiers, the acidic smell of charred plastic and carbonized steel.

  “Please don’t die, Amy,” whispered Philip. “Please don’t die. Please don’t die.”

  “She’s dead,” said Sunflower’s voice.

  Amy groaned. “Ow … ow ow ow. Who’s licking my hand?”

  “Sorry!” came Betsy’s voice. “Sunnie said you were dead. Can I have your stuff if you’re dead?”

  Amy opened her eyes and looked up at Philip’s face. The teenager held her in his lap.

  “Am I dead?”

  Philip smiled. “I’m not a doctor, but I think you’ll be fine. Your blouse is a bit worse for wear, however.”

  Amy felt the edges of a ragged hole in the center of her blouse, fist-sized and right over her heart. A perfect pink circle marked the skin of her chest above her bra, bright and fiery like a bad sunburn. Amy touched the moist burn and gasped.

  “Ow! Holy mother that hurts.”

  Sunflower peered at the wounded skin. “It’s probably going to make a scar and be super embarrassing. Maybe you can draw a happy face on it?”

  Amy groaned. “If it doesn’t go away I’ll kill every cat in the galaxy, starting with you!”

  “The bigger question is, how did you survive?” asked Philip. “The energy from those machines can cut through steel.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe the power supply was dying and the beam wasn’t at full power.”

  MacGuffin stuck his furry Siamese face above Amy’s. “Is she dead?”

  “No!” shouted everyone.

  “Blessed Saint Mittens, I was just asking a question! You can’t always tell with Centaurans.” The cat touched Amy’s blouse. “This cloth saved her life, that’s my hypothesis. Certainly more tests are in order. Many, many tests.” He rubbed his paws together. “So exciting!”

  Amy shivered. “No tests, especially if it means shoving me into a tiny closet and lots of machines poking me in rude places!”

  MacGuffin frowned and twitched his whiskers. “Science doesn’t have rude places, young lady.”

  “This is a weird conversation,” said Sunflower. “What exactly did you people do at the equator?”

  The rumble of fusion engines came from overhead, and everyone looked up. The Cleopatra landed next to the White Star and the airlock hissed open. An orange tabby and a white cat with calico patches jumped out.

  Sunflower froze. “Mom? Dad? What are you doing here?”

  The pair of cats glanced at each other, and then walked up on all fours, tails drooping and heads bowed.

  “Sorry,” said Sunflower’s father. “We don’t want any trouble, son. We’ll leave as soon as the ship is gassed up.”

  Bocephus smiled uncomfortably. “It was getting so cramped and boring down at the station. These humans showed up and brought us here, but don’t blame them. It’s our fault for escaping. If you’re going to lock us up again, could it at least be somewhere nice? A little beach house would be perfect.”

  Sunflower shook his head. “What are you talking about? I didn’t send you anywhere. I’ve only been Emperor for a few days, and haven’t had time to lock up anyone except my old geography teacher.”

  Amy took a deep breath and winced at the pain. She held out an arm and Philip helped her to stand.

  “Remember, this is not your dimension,” she said. “Sunflower the Emperor––the one who disappeared––was ashamed of his parents. He sent them to that research station on the equator so nobody could find them.”

  Sunflower jumped forward and hugged both his father and his mother.

  “I love both of you,” he said. “Whatever happened in the past wasn’t me. I’m a completely different cat.”

  His father nodded his furry orange head. “So I guess we can hang out with the emperor now? Totally awesome!”

  “Not exactly. I’m leaving.”

  “What?” Betsy scrambled up to them. “No! Can I go with you?”

  Sunflower shook his head. “You idiot. You’re coming with me.”

  “We’re going somewhere? When did this happen?”

  “I’m glad you had a change of heart,” said Amy.

  Philip nodded. “It’s hard to tell at times, but Sunflower really is a first-rate chap.”

  “Don’t push it with that squishy stuff or I’ll change my mind,” growled Sunflower. “Besides, you bunch of shaved monkeys and galactic rejects are all useless without me. Every one of you would choke to death on a cheese sandwich or brush your teeth with plutonium if I weren’t there to show you how everything is really done.”

  Bocephus hugged Sunflower. “What about us? You finally care about your parents and you have to leave?”

  “I don’t belong here. I know that doesn’t explain anything, and I’m sorry. Let’s just say that I am your son but I’m also not your son.” Sunflower stood on his hind legs and looked left and right. “Sooka!”

  The brown cat ran up to Sunflow
er. “Sire, all of the invaders have been nullified. I respectfully suggest that Your Highness retire to the safety of the palace.”

  “That won’t be necessary. Bring me an official document creator and the seal of office. Also, load one of those armored cat-tanks into the White Star. Should be fun to play around with if I get bored.”

  Sooka Black clapped his paws, and a black-and-white tuxedo cat scampered up with a wide satchel on his back.

  “That was fast,” said Amy.

  “The seal and document creator must always be near the emperor,” said Sooka Black solemnly. “If he wishes to make a proclamation, there must be no delay.”

  “If he finds certain geography teachers still alive, for example?”

  Sooka pulled an electronic tablet and a pouch of red velvet from the satchel. Sunflower took the tablet from him, scribbled a few short sentences on the electronic screen with his paw, then took a brilliant diamond from the pouch.

  “My word,” said Philip.

  “You read my mind,” said Amy. “Can I borrow that rock? I promise to bring it back in a few hundred years.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  Sunflower pressed the top of the diamond into a socket on the tablet, and a light flashed green beside it.

  “There you go,” he said, handing both items to Sooka Black. “I have abdicated the throne and passed it to a commoner. The new Emperor and first sovereign of the Seven-Leaf Dynasty is Amy.”

  “What? I’m not a cat!”

  “Not you––my father, the other Amy!”

  Sunflower’s father hugged him with tears in his eyes. “Son, I’ll try to be as awesome as you.”

  “Take care of yourself and always be groovy,” said his mother, and kissed his furry cheek.

  “Cut it out with that hippie emotional stuff,” said Sunflower. “Sooka, please carry out my last proclamation.”

  The brown cat bowed. “Your will is my command, sire.”

  The group stood in a circle, staring at each other and shifting their weight from foot to foot.

  “This is awkward,” said Amy. She leaned on Philip’s shoulder. “Take me to the ship. I really need some aspirin. Take care everyone, and thanks for all the fishy water!”