Wildcat

by Rebecca Hutto

  Ember shook herself off and tried to ignore the light greens of nausea sinking in. She scooped up a patch of snow in her paws, pressed it into the bark of a nearby tree, then kept walking. With every step, lethargy crept closer and closer. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop her teeth from clicking together. However, the aches and pains of moving subsided.

  “Ember!” a voice called out.

  “M-M-M-Michelle, is-is that y- . . . you?” Ember replied.

  “Ember!” it called again.

  Her eyes lit up. She broke into a stumbling run. “Mom? M-Mom! I’m . . . I’m here! E-e-everything is s-so c-c-cold. P-please, I n-need you to k-keep me . . . w-warm? Mom, w-where are you?”

  She stopped and scanned the underbrush for signs of life. And there she was—a silhouette in the distance, beyond the tangle of weeds and trees. Songbird stood there, tall and strong. Ember pushed through the dead plants and charged toward her welcoming figure.

  “Mom! C-come on, it’s me! E-Ember. Y-you . . . m-m-might n-not recognize me . . . because of the legs, but I p-promise it’s—”

  Her muzzle slammed into something hard. Ember jumped back, panting, and shook her head. Songbird was a tree stump. A little plume of purple appeared in her mind, adding to the muted rainbow forming inside her. “Th-then who was . . . What? B-b-but . . .”

  She stared vacantly at the tree stump for a moment, then shook herself out of her daze and looked around. Everything looked the same. ‘Oh. Where am I? I guess you could turn around and try to follow your trail of destruction back. Then you wouldn’t be as lost. But the snow, there’s so much of it. I could try, though. I know I could, but I don’t know if I can. I need shelter. There isn’t any back there. Oh, look, that looks like a drop-off over there. Maybe it has a hole in it.’

  She slunk over to the edge to find a patch of dry dirt under a slight outcropping. She hopped down to the bare earth and curled into as tight of a ball as she could.

  ‘This will have to do. I can’t go any farther. If they find me, they find me. If they don’t, they don’t. It doesn’t matter anymore.’

  Black and blue-green bubbled through her thoughts as a shadow emerged from the falling snow. It moved toward her. The shadow took the form of a cat, which then took the form of Cloud. He stopped in front of her and smiled.

  ‘Dad?’

  “Hey, Sparky,” he said.

  ‘Did you die, Daddy? Am I dying?’

  “I don’t know,” he replied to her thoughts, “but I’m sure we’ll find out soon.”

  He leaned forward and pressed his muzzle against her forehead. Exhaustion took over. Ember sighed and closed her eyes. The shivering stopped. Her breathing stabilized. All at once, it became so easy to let go. So she did. With a gentle, frosty breath of air, she sunk into the world of sleep.

  Chapter 12

  Ember

  A song—melodic, gentle, and sickening—greeted Ember’s ears. She shuddered, even though the frigid air she’d fallen asleep in was no more than a memory. The dead cat from the documentary appeared in her mind, as vividly as if Thai had put it there. A similar human song had been paired with a history many murders darker than the one she’d spent most of her life studying.

  Purple and blue-green swirled around in her thoughts, dancing to the music with only a distant connection to emotion. They swayed and flickered with each new note. She bit down on her tongue and tried to shove the noise away. Beyond the colors and music, she felt warm and almost content. Something soft covered her body, and even the air smelled sweet and welcoming. She curled into a tighter ball and let out a defeated huff.

  ‘I guess they found me after all. Unless this is what it’s like to die, in which case I could get used to being dead. This isn’t terrible. Much nicer than the last time I died. But no, I’m not dead. They found me. I smell Michelle, and other people too. So much for trying to go home on my own, as if that would have worked to begin with. How long have I been asleep?’

  A human voice whispered in her ears. Ember opened her eyes. “Oh,” she said, voice subdued with shock.

  Only a pawstep away, a young person sat in front of her with its legs crossed. She guessed it to be young, at least, based on its size and the almost kitten-like way it examined her.

  “Er, hi?” Ember said. Silvery uncertainty crept into her thoughts.

  The human blinked a few times but didn’t reply.

  “Uhm, do you think you could, uh, turn that off?” She asked, tail twitching. “Please? Hello? It’s hurting my head. Stop looking at me like that; you’re being creepy.”

  When the little person didn’t reply, Ember’s gaze wandered. Beyond the human lay a landscape unlike anything else she’d seen; similar to the Center, unnaturally flat walls and a smooth ceiling with artificial lights blocked her from seeing the outside world. However, unlike the Center, almost everything else looked soft, or at least less harsh.

  A tan, dead-grass-like substance covered the ground nearby. The wall her bedding was pressed against appeared to be made of strips of wood, as did most of the other walls. The ceiling was creamy white with wooden linings, and several large black things were pressed against the wall in front of her. They looked like the objects the humans had been sitting on in the center, but they were wider and softer.

  The human spoke again. She held up a little, transparent rectangle with a pink metallic frame in her hand.

  “Hey, are you awake now? Momma said not to disturb you until you woke up,” the rectangle said in a voice similar to Thai’s.

  “Uh, yeah, yeah, I think I am,” Ember replied.

  The little rectangle spoke to the young human in her own language, then the human replied, “Okay, good. She said you got really cold this morning, and that I should watch you for her until she gets back in case you woke up. She didn’t want you to be alone. I thought you might like some music, so I played some for you, but only the nice ’n quiet stuff. Do you like it?”

  “No. It’s making me nervous. Where’s your mom?”

  The human smiled, unfazed. The music kept playing. “She forgot to get cat food, so she went to get some. It’s faster than ordering it.”

  Ember looked the human over. Her skin was lighter than Michelle’s, but darker than Hye’s. Her dark brown fur tuft was more curly than any fur she’d ever seen. It came down to her chin and bounced every time she moved, like the ever-flicking tail of an impatient kitten.

  ‘Please stop it. Please. I don’t like your music.’

  Her gaze zeroed in on the person’s outstretched forearm. For a split moment, she considered biting it to make the noise go away. She shook herself off before the thought could finish forming. The cold, sinking feeling of disappointment settled in. Ember yawned in a futile attempt to chase it away. The misty forest greens of sleep crept back into her mind, so she placed a paw over her eyes and tucked her head closer to her body to welcome them.

  ‘Come on, Ember. You need some rest. Just a little longer. A little more, and I’ll be okay. Just stop thinking about hurting everyone, please. Please, this isn’t good. I’m already a murderer. Why did I have to fight her? This has got to stop; I’m making myself sick again.’

  “Wait, you’re going back to sleep?” the human asked.

  “Yes,” she mumbled in reply.

  “No, you can’t do that. Momma wants you awake.”

  “Why?”

  “Lake, you aren’t tormenting the cat, are you?” A new voice spoke, this one deep and kind.

  The transparent translator rectangle evidently worked with all speech anywhere within earshot. It even switched voices to better accommodate the person’s more masculine tone. The voice sounded like Yegor. Ember would have laughed if she’d been in a better mood.

  “No, Daddy,” the young human, Lake, replied.

  Ember curled into a tighter ball and wrapped a second paw over her eyes. ‘Thai, can you help me go to sleep? I need something calming, or I’m going to start biting myself again. Maybe some forest soun
ds, or something with wind and birds. Lots of birds. And maybe a waterfall or two. No crickets, though. I don’t like crickets.’

  Thai didn’t respond. Ember swallowed hard. ‘Thai? Hey, are you there? Thai? Oh no, did I kill you? Thai? Did they kill you?’

  She opened her eyes and pulled back her forepaws; both were the same dull grey they’d started as. She realized she could feel temperature with them again too.

  “Okay, where is Thai?” she asked. “Someone did something to her, and now my infinite source of knowledge is gone.”

  The human with the deep voice appeared from around a corner, laughing. His brown fur tuft extended to his jaw and upper lip to give him a short mane. The darkness of it contrasted with the paleness of his skin, making it stand out even more.

  Ember peered up at him with amused curiosity. ‘It’s like he’s peeking out from behind a bunch of leaves. Like a little fawn trying to hide.’

  “Chell disabled your implant for a bit,” the rectangle translated. “But don’t worry, she’s going to turn it back on soon. She just needs to give you a good anti-pinger, just in case, then you’ll be clear to home. Fortunately for you, I’ve made several kinds. Because you know, when it comes to security, you never can be too sure.”

  He stood in silence, smiling and rocking back and forth on his heels. His hands jerked into the air. “Oh! Manners, manners, manners. Where are my manners? I’m Matthew. Matthew Castell. You’ve met Lake already. Lake, turn that off.”

  “But it’s Unknown Certainty,” Lake protested. “Everyone loves them.”

  “She doesn’t.”

  “Okay, fine, I’ll turn it off.”

  Ember smiled faintly as the music stopped. Their real voices were so sincere and lively, yet their translations seemed bored to death, and Matthew still sounded like Yegor.

  With the unnerving ambience gone, she could calm down. Some of the tension in her head and neck released, but the presence of creatures she didn’t know prevented the fog from clearing all the way. At least they seemed nice, and didn’t appear to want to send her away with the ARC person. Something nearby thudded. Ember’s ears perked up.

  “Hello! I hear someone is ’wake,” Michelle said in imperfect Felid.

  The rectangle translated her to her family. Matthew burst out laughing.

  Michelle appeared in the white-lined mouth of a tunnel, or hall of some kind. “What’s so funny, you?” she asked in humanspeech.

  “You walk through the door, and immediately start meowing in Felid to the cat. And on top of that, we have a translator available for when you do it,” he replied.

  Michelle chuckled. “I guess that is pretty funny.”

  Until then, Ember hadn’t thought much of how Michelle’s mews sounded to her all-human family. She wondered what life would be like if Hyrees taught himself how to speak bird. She chuffed quietly to herself.

  ‘I think I like Matthew. Why is that? You only just met him, after all, and you don’t trust that easily. Yes, he pointed out something funny, but—wait, maybe that’s it. He noticed something no one else really gave much thought to, and pointed it out. We laughed with him, not at him. That’s already more than I could hope for back at home. Except sometimes when I’m with Kivy. But still.’

  Michelle strode over to where her little family was gathered. She rubbed a hand through Lake’s fur and pressed her lips against her forehead. “Thank you for watching her for me. You’ve been a big help. Now go play. I need to—”

  Lake turned off her translation rectangle. Ember pinned back her ears as Michelle kept speaking without translation.

  ‘Why would you do that, tiny human? Now I can’t understand what she’s saying. No, she’s not speaking to me, but I want to know what she’s going to do.’

  Lake replied, then scampered away. Michelle turned to Matthew and spoke with him for a few moments. He also replied, then left the area, leaving Ember alone with Michelle. Ember swallowed, gnawed on her tongue, and waited for an explanation.

  Michelle messed with her wrist phone, then bent down and removed the warm thing covering Ember’s body. “I hope you don’t mind if I go back to using a translator. It’s a lot easier on my throat.”

  She moved her hands along Ember’s spine, ending at the tip of her tail, which she grabbed.

  Ember flicked back her ears and bent around to conduct her own examination. “That’s fine. But why did you take away the warm thing, and why are you grabbing my tail?”

  Michelle released her, and Ember thrashed it from side to side.

  “Oh, sorry,” a translated Michelle said. “Now that you’re warmed up and awake, I need to make sure you didn’t get any frostbite. Your tail is vulnerable to it, being thin and mostly furless right now. No offense intended, of course. It looks okay, but let me know if it starts to sting.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Ember replied.

  “Ma’am?” Michelle asked. “Where’d that come from? No need to call me that, sweetie. It makes me feel old. But then again, I’m not exactly at the peak of youth anymore, so I guess I should start feeling old. But still, there’s no need for formality. Never thought I’d have to say that to a cat.” She sighed and pushed her eye rectangles farther up her nose. “Again.”

  “Again?”

  Michelle stroked Ember’s head and neck with a gentle hand. “Don’t you worry yourself about me. You don’t appear to have any frostbite, which is good. Now we need to make sure your prosthetics are working. Can you stand for me?”

  ‘Maybe she had a domestic at one time. Unless she’s talking about Yegor, but that seems unlikely.’

  Ember stood up, then lifted each leg in turn. “Everything seems okay. Still hurts a little, but other than that, I’m fine.”

  “Great,” Michelle said. “Now you’ve got about three more days until your fur grows back enough to bring you home. During that time, I can put a small heating system in your prosthetics so nothing freezes up. When I found you earlier they were already dangerously cold, and working to lower your core body temperature, which, to put it simply, is not good.”

  Ember’s eyes widened as the vibrant reds of excitement sparkled in her mind’s eye. “Three days? Only three? Oh, and what about claws? I really, really need new claws.”

  “Yes indeed, only three days. You’ve got Hye to thank for that. And of course you need claws; I’m going to give you some. But for now, how about you get settled?”

  She pointed at a pale green box with a hole in its front. “Over there is your litter box. Don’t go outside of it, if you know what I mean.”

  She moved her outstretched arm toward a pink bowl sitting across the chamber. The ground there was comprised of stone-like tan squares. “Water is over there, and you’ll get fed in the same place twice a day. You see that side of the house where the floor becomes hard? The place where your water is? Everything in there that’s above eye-level is off-limits. No jumping or climbing in that area. It’s where we eat, and cat fur in food is disgusting. Again, no offense intended.”

  Ember huffed, thinking about the rabbits and squirrels she’d so often picked over. Fur getting caught in her tiny, rough ‘tongue teeth’ had made her cough almost every time. ‘You would hate being a colony cat so much.’

  “Everywhere else, you’re free to explore,” Michelle said. “Also, don’t eat, drink, or chew on anything you aren’t given specifically to eat, drink, or chew on. And I think that covers everything.”

  “Thai?”

  “Hmm? Oh. Yeah, I’ll get that fixed up later this evening. It’s turned off right now so no one can track you. Just in case they change their minds and decide they want you after all. But the main thing I want to do right now is ask you a few questions.”

  Ember lowered her head and swallowed hard. “Questions? What kind?”

  Michelle shifted her lanky legs around to sit in a more comfortable position. “The curiosity kind. Back at the Center, what was it that caused you to run?”

  “Uhm,” she stammered, “I-I
don’t know. I’m sorry; I really am.”

  “Yes, you do. You know. This is a safe place, sweetie. I’m not going to laugh, or tease you, or pretend it was nothing. I want to help you.”

  “Well, uh . . .” Ember sat down, hunched over defensively as if she might need to bolt again at any moment. A cold chill crept down her head and along her spine as memories of her panic and mad dash through the snow came back to her. She stared longingly at the warm thing that had once covered her body. “They, er, they kept smacking their hands together and yelling. And the-the lights were, uhm, k-kind of bright. It hurt my eyes, and . . . and my ears too. Not the lights, the smacking. There was so much going on, with all the people, and the loud noises, and I just . . . I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but it almost felt like they were a-attacking me, if you can even believe that. I just needed to get away, and somewhere in my tired head I thought, maybe, somehow, I’d be able to find my way home. I wasn’t thinking straight, and I couldn’t—”

  Ember shook her head in frustration. Tears threatened to blur her vision once again. “I’m sorry; I’m sorry. Tahg, this sounds so stupid, saying it out loud. Anyone else would just be afraid of the people making the noise, but not me. I have to be afraid everything, and I don’t even know why.”

  “Ah, so this is more than just a case of nervous feral cat. I believe you, sweetie. It’s not stupid. Matthew gets like that too. Crowds, and loud noises, and even certain smells really bother him sometimes. When it gets to be too much to handle, it’s called a sensory overload.”

  Ember looked up at her, eyes wide and unfocused. “S-sensory overload?”

  ‘They have a name for it? What’s that supposed to mean?’

  “Yes, that’s what it’s called,” Michelle replied. “They aren’t pleasant, are they?”

  “N-no,” Ember whispered, “no, no, they aren’t.”

  Michelle touched her fingers to her chin and tilted her head. “This may seem like an odd request, but can I see your tongue?”