Star Cat Forever: A Science Fiction & Fantasy Adventure (The Star Cat Series - Book 6)

by Andrew Mackay

  An Egyptian Mau.

  “Meow,” she said as she flicked her ears back and looked at the back window.

  “Hey, girl,” Remy said. “What’s up?”

  “Muuuuuuh.”

  She raised her right paw at her reflection in the back window. Remy turned around and giggled.

  “There’s nothing there, you silly thing—”

  “—Meow,” she said, interrupting him.

  The boy shook his head and pretended to sigh, “Oh, okay, if you want a cuddle. Come here.”

  Remy moved from his seat and opened his arms, intending to scoop her up.

  “Mwah,” Mau shrieked at the back window. The other cats turned around and burst into a frenzy.

  Remy’s face dropped as he caught the urgency in Mau’s eyes, “Huh?”

  SMAAASSHHHHH.

  The back window shattered. A pair of arms dressed in USARIC mercenary gear burst through and grabbed at Amelia’s shoulders.

  “Gaaaahh,” she squealed and moved forward, taking the mercenary with her. He pushed his feet on the seat and buried his gun in her head.

  Roman, Jamie, Leesa, and the cats froze still. They dared not move for fear of something terrible happening.

  “Turn the goddamn van around,” the Merc screamed, “Or I’ll blow her brains out.”

  Sierra gripped the steering wheel and continued along the path at speed.

  “I said turn the van around, or your friend gets in the face,” the merc screamed and pulled Amelia in front of his chest.

  “Okay, okay,” Roman said. “Whatever you want. Don’t shoot.”

  Sierra clocked the mercenary’s face in the rear view mirror. A shaft of light bounced from the bottom of the mirror, which drew her attention to someone reaching into their belt.

  “Remy?”

  The boy held out his left hand and tried to placate the mercenary, “It’s okay, we are turning. Please put the gun down.”

  Sierra bit her lip and slammed on the gas, keeping her eyes on Remy’s fingers wrapping around the grip of his firearm.

  “Damn it,” the mercenary grunted, “If you don’t turn this van around you’re—”

  Sierra’s foot shifted to the brake pedal, “Remy. Now.”

  SLAMMMMM.

  The van’s tires screeched to a halt.

  Amelia flew forwards, away from the mercenary, leaving him exposed. Remy retrieved his gun, swung the barrel at the man and blasted him in the shoulder.

  BLAMM — SCHPATT.

  The mercenary released his gun and crashed against the seat.

  “Ugh, ughhhh—”

  Remy lowered his gun, astonished that he’d saved the day.

  “Oh, w-wow,” he whispered as he watched the mercenary squeal in agony.

  Roman swiped the discarded firearm from the floor and aimed it at their bleeding foe.

  “Why don’t you take a seat and let us do the driving, asshole?”

  “Yeah, tough guy,” Remy barked.

  Sierra licked her lips and chuckled to herself. She hit the accelerator and drove the van along the freeway once again.

  “Nice work, comrade,” Roman said to the boy. “Maybe we can use you in future.”

  Remy blinked and shook his head away at notion of guilt.

  “My pleasure.”

  The pair chuckled as they cocked their respective firearms and pointed it at the bleeding mercenary.

  “P-Please. Don’—”

  “—Shut the hell up,” Roman screamed. “You’re gonna sit there nice and tight and bleed.”

  The mercenary held up his one, good arm in surrender - much to the elation of the two Russians and everyone else in the van.

  I don’t think anyone would ever believe my story if I told them.

  Jamie averted his gaze to the speeding road dead ahead through the windscreen. He couldn’t believe what he’d just seen.

  “I don’t think anyone would believe any of this if I told them,” he spat, unsure if his voice was loud enough for anyone to hear.

  Leesa winked at Remy, “Hey, take a look out the back make sure there aren’t any more of them?”

  “Yes, very good idea,” he said.

  Jamie felt a hand slide across his knee. If he had turned to his right, he’d have seen Leesa smiling at him.

  Instead, he just had to settle on her head resting against his shoulder.

  As the road markings ran and disappeared under the van, time seemed - for a change - to speed up. They were safe, for now.

  And, still, Jamie found it hard to recollect anything that had happened. He looked out of the window and saw his past roast into the night sky and shrink out of sight.

  Hopefully, out of mind, too.

  The future was uncertain, for now.

  Would you have believed me if I told you? Probably not. It’s an incredibly strange story.

  But take a good look around.

  Tell me. What do you see?

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  A young man’s mouth hovered in front of the black ink on his forearm. As the words drifted from his lips, his voice repeated and echoed through the thousands of citizens watching in the distance.

  “I’ll tell you what I see,” the lips moved as he continued to speak, “A level playing field. Hope.”

  The crowd remained perfectly silent, raptured by the words the man produced.

  “A place where all of us can coexist peacefully, and make the world a better place. Now, I ask you. Look to the future. What do you see?”

  The United Kingdom

  — Chrome Valley, Northwest London —

  A giant sand pit.

  A young girl played with her British shorthair cat in their backyard. She giggled and pulled her dress over her knees as her cat used it as a trampoline.

  Purrrr.

  “Oh, Liddy,” she giggled, “You’re so silly.”

  Could we possibly have foreseen what would come next? I don’t think any of us could have comprehended the results, least of all me.

  The girl looked up at the sky and covered her face. One giant sun lit up her face.

  Next to it, a second, smaller sun, providing additional warmth.

  Liddy stood up on her hind paws and meowed. She walked over to the perfectly rendered sand castle and scraped her claw along the detail, etching a portcullis into the front.

  “Mwah.”

  “Haha,” Liddy giggled and squeezed the oxygen mask next to her leg.

  “Good work, girl.”

  “Food,” Liddy snapped.

  The girl jumped to her feet and pressed her breathing apparatus to her face. She took a lungful of air and skipped towards the house.

  “Okay. You want fed? Let’s go get you something to eat.”

  “Yeah, I think I’ll try the chicken medley today,” Liddy said.

  Citizens in their millions watched the USARIC War of 2124. After we recovered from the devastation, I think we knew it all made sense, somehow. When the structures in the Gulf, Yellow Sea, and the Mediterranean left, all we know is that they were connected by the strange, pink energy force. They had something to do with the way things are, now. Unexplained, of course. Nevertheless, its effect is recognized the world over.

  South Korea

  — Seoul —

  A train pulled into the station and rolled to a halt. The doors slid open and released the commuters in their morning rush to get to work.

  Men, woman, and children piled onto the platform and made their way to the escalators.

  Can you imagine? There was once a time when we didn’t understand what the three antennae produced. It was so obvious, all along.

  The commuters reached into the bags as they hurried along the platform.

  One by one, they pulled out oxygen masks and strapped them to their heads.

  Without the gift of our second sun, we would die. But, much like everything in life, we learn to adapt.

  A female commuter exited the train station and walked into the double light from the two
suns. She removed her mask and looked at her forearm - 08:52.

  A crowd of kittens rolled around on the ground beside the taxi shelter.

  One of them, a beautiful Persian, hopped to its feet and clawed at the woman’s legs as she raced along the concourse to a waiting taxi.

  The Persian raced ahead of her, and inserted its paw in its mouth. She whistled at the vehicle and caught the driver’s attention.

  The lady smiled and reached into her bag. Out came a packet of treats.

  The Persian widened its eyes at the packet, “Mmm, jellies,”

  The woman presented the cat with the treats and rubbed its head, “Thank you.”

  “Yeah, gimme the sweets.”

  The Persian sniffed around the packet and chewed the end open, forcing the candies onto the ground.

  Self-sufficient? To a fault, I’d argue. But one cannot survive without the other, and it’d be foolish to suggest otherwise.

  The other cats bolted over to the Persian and tried to score a few blobs of candy.

  Persian stood up straight and held out her front arms.

  HISSSSSS.

  The cats backed up, afraid, and lowered their heads in shame.

  “Mine,” Persian barked and returned to her well-earned treats.

  The young lady climbed into the back seat and shut the door.

  A pair of pyramid-shaped pupils appeared in the rear view mirror, “Where you going?”

  “Oh,” the lady said in Korean. “Jeong-Dong, please.”

  “Nice,” came a croaky, meow-infused voice from the driver’s seat. “Hold tight.”

  A beautiful Burmese slapped its paws on the steering wheel and looked into the foot well.

  A younger cat rolled around the accelerator pedal and rammed its claws onto the rubbery surface.

  “Hey, you.”

  “Yeah?” the younger cat asked.

  “Hit the gas, we’re going to Jeong-Dong.”

  “What’s in it for me?”

  “Dunno,” the Burmese said. “She’ll give us a cuddle when we get there. Now press the accelerator.”

  “Okay.”

  The taxi rolled forward and joined the road, blaring its horn.

  “Come on, move.”

  I think it’s a small price to pay. After all, what gave us the right to dominate the planet? We got away with it for thousands of years. It wasn’t fair. Today, we appreciate what we have, and that’s no bad thing. We often forget who’s in charge, I’m sure you’d all agree.

  Italy

  — Rome —

  Dusk fell in the horizon, creating a beautiful orange and pink hue in the sky. The rays of light hit the side of the Colosseum, creating a spurious brown effect on its structure.

  The young man took a seat on a brick wall and pointed at the sky, “It’s time. The sun’s going down.”

  “Okay.”

  The girl sat next to him, reached into her belt with haste, and took out a thin strip of plastic.

  A torrents of kittens bolted out from the entrance to the Colosseum, funneling around the security guards’ legs.

  “It’s time, it’s time,” the first kitten, a pointy-eared Sphynx yelped. “The sun’s going down.”

  “We know,” the man yelled back at her as he unfolded the thin, gelatinous strip in his hands. “But thanks for the heads up.”

  A Manx trundled up beside the Sphynx and tilted its head at the man, entirely unimpressed with his attitude.

  “Hey, dickhead.”

  The man quaked in his boots. He hadn’t meant to annoy any of the kittens.

  No one did.

  “I’m sorry?”

  Manx yawned and licked its teeth, “Sorry?”

  “Yes, I don’t know what—”

  “—Hey. You wanna turn into a damn spider and have us kill you?”

  The spongy plastic sealed around the man’s ears, nostrils, and mouth.

  “No,” his muffled voice spread across the plastic.

  “Then don’t be a dickhead,” the Manx spat. “Just wear your mask like a good little human. It’s nearly night time.”

  Where would we be without our furry little friends paving the way for us? No more war, no more destruction. Our efforts are focused on providing a life for them. A life of luxury, but of excitement and thrills, as well.

  The man stood up from the bench and took his girlfriend’s hands in his. They hugged in front of the giant structure.

  “Pah,” Manx said. “Look at them.”

  Sphynx flicked his ears rapidly and ducked his head, “Really. They should get a fricken room.”

  The United States

  — Minneapolis Two —

  Dawn.

  A giant truck sped past a restaurant. A cartoon of a happy girl with a breathing mask accompanied the name of the company.

  Second Sun Oxygen.

  Don’t get caught in the dark.

  Recharge your family’s cartridges today.

  The restaurant owner walked through the door and stretched his arms. The light from both suns filtered from the building on the opposite side of the road.

  We know now that Saturn protects us humans from whatever the pink gas is. When night falls, I think it does us good to get fresh oxygen, anyway. It’s a small price to pay for harmony. Isn’t it? I’m sure none of us would have it any other way.

  The restaurant owner removed his oxygen mask. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the warmth of the light spreading across his face.

  “Ah. Beautiful.”

  He opened his eyes and shrieked in terror at a bundle of extended limbs lying dead on the other side of the road.

  An Abyssinian pawed at one of the twelve tentacle-like extensions and meowed.

  Grrrrrr.

  “Hey, girl,” the restaurant owner said. “What are you doing?”

  The Abyssinian pushed the empty oxygen mask with its nose.

  “Girl?”

  The cat pricked its ears and shot the man a look of disdain, “Cartridge is empty. He didn’t make it.”

  “Huh.”

  “Yeah,” Abyssinian said. “A real shame.”

  “I’ll, uh, go and call the removal guys to come and take it away.”

  “Yeah,” the Abyssinian grunted. “You do that.”

  The United States

  — New Los Angeles —

  Amelia stood at the front of a classroom giving a talk to a group of young children. She pointed at the spinning hologram in the middle of the room and smiled.

  “Do you want to meet my friend?”

  “Yay,” the children chuckled with excitement.

  Their teacher, a black and white Persian, settled on the desk and licked her mouth, “Okay, children. Be quiet. Let the nice human speak.”

  Now that the Bering Treaty has been reinstated, we’ve learned to live and work together. One step closer to global unity. We must never forget how far we’ve come. We must spread the word far and wide.

  Blanchard appeared in the middle of the room and waved at everyone, “Hey, guys.”

  “Hello,” they said.

  “I have a story I’d like to tell you,” he said as he walked around the sitting children, “A tale beyond the stars, and beyond your imagination.”

  “Wow,” they gasped.

  “Hand up those of you whose parents are not Americans?”

  Half of the children raised their hands.

  “Interesting,” he said, impressed. “How many of you have heard the term Misfit?”

  No hands went in the air.

  “Uh, excuse me. Blanchard?” the Persian said.

  “Oh. Yes?”

  “Misfit. That’s my name.”

  Amelia and Blanchard giggled.

  “It’s a nice name,” Blanchard said.

  His transparent hologram sat with the children and started the story. One of the children, a blond haired boy named Andy, tried to touch him but his hand waved through the image.

  “Well, you’ll never believe this,” Blanchard sai
d. “But, a few years ago there were something called state border checkpoints…”

  The United States

  — North Texas —

  Sierra, now in her thirties, lifted a carry case out of the back of a truck.

  She stared at the cages lining the walls. Hundreds of cats purred back at her.

  It’s amaziant to think that the Star Cat Project started the war, and that it provided the answers, as well.

  She closed the doors and thumped the side.

  Roman stopped the engine and stepped out from the driver’s side.

  The side of the van displayed a cheerful logo reading HART, accompanied by a happy, cartoon cat snuggling up to a cartoon face of a man with blue hair. The company name rolled underneath the logo.

  HART

  Handax Animal Rescue Team

  Roman met Sierra at the side of the truck and looked inside the cage at the front of the carry case.

  “Hey, girl.”

  The cute bundle of brown fluff blinked at him and purred.

  “Ready to meet your new owner?”

  “Miew.”

  It may not be a perfect world. The natural order of things, evolution, seems to have reversed its pecking order. But some say we’re one step closer to peace.

  A front door opened to reveal a withered old man. Roman and Sierra smiled at him.

  He looked at the carry case and saw a cute nose poking through the bars.

  “Here she is,” Sierra said.

  Roman lifted the case and popped the front open. The cute brown kitten hopped into the old man’s arms.

  His face lit up with glee.

  “Oh, my,” he said. “Thank you so much. She’s adorable.”

  Purrrrrr.

  Sierra and Roman smiled as they watched the old man make a silly fuss of the kitten in his arms.

  Shuffle-shuffle — wag-wag — huff-huff.