CatFantastic Read online

  Lyssa continued to stare. "We wanted to prove we could do it. Well, we did it. But now, the question is, how do we use it?"

  "Wrong. The question is what is it?" David said. "And these numbers aren't telling me a thing."

  Lyssa turned toward the computer, but as she did, a sudden flash of brilliant light from the vortex sprang at her. She screamed and fell backward. David sprang forward and caught her as a streak of black rushed past them both and landed in a small heap, near a bookcase.

  The two scientists got to their feet, just as the vortex shut itself down, along with the laser equipment. The lab became engulfed in sudden silence, except for a small voice, saying, "My God, talk about your rough landings!"

  Lyssa and David stared, their eyes wide, their mouths agape, at the small black creature which was, for all intents and purposes, grooming itself back into proper appearance. It was definitely feline, pure black, just like Einstein, with one noticeable exception: it had wings. Long, translucent, butterfly type wings.

  And it talked.

  It looked up at both of them, with cat eyes, summing them up. "Don't gawk. It isn't polite."

  Lyssa found her voice first, although it cracked in the middle of the sentence. "Einstein? Is that you?"

  "Do I look like Einstein?" the cat had a definite male voice. Its lips were slightly parted, but it was hard to tell if the sound they heard was being spoken, or simply thought-transferred. "No, I am not. He simply saw a way home and couldn't resist the temptation."

  "Home? Is that what we've created?" Lyssa asked.

  "Who or what are you?" David asked.

  The cat seemed to smile at him. "I am a Pryliwyk."

  "You look like a cat with wings," David said.

  The Pryliwyk studied him, its eyes bright with secrets, a smile on its whiskered lips. Then it turned toward Lyssa. "You're a bright woman, Dr. Tyler. However, your calculations were misleading you into a situation where you would have no control. The cat that you refer to as Einstein had to rectify those critical errors."

  Lyssa still couldn't believe what she saw or what was happening. "You know my name?"

  "Of course. `It is their task to see everything, to hear everything,' that's what you told Mr. Eisner in the car, didn't you?"

  "Well, yes … but—"

  "But Einstein was in your lap, remember?" the Pryliwyk said.

  "Yes. Was Einstein a Perli … ?" Lyssa asked. David had found himself a stool to sit on.

  "Yes. Actually, just over a third of your cat population are Pryliwyks."

  "They are? But they don't have wings!"

  The Pryliwyk groomed himself, as he said, "Take off your glasses."

  "Huh?" Lyssa said, but removed the protective goggles from her face. Immediately, the Pryllwyk's wings disappeared from sight, leaving him looking like a normal black housecat, grooming itself, a smug look on its face. It looked up at her, and meowed.

  "Your wings are gone," she announced. She held the goggles back up. The wings reappeared.

  "It's your glasses. They were polarized by the energy bolt when the rift occurred between the two dimensions. Put them back on and you'll see the wings."

  Lyssa slowly nodded, in comprehension. "Yes. But why didn't I feel them when I petted Einstein."

  "The human mind doesn't acknowledge easily what it doesn't see or accept." This statement came from David.

  The Pryliwyk glanced over at him. "I suppose that's a simplistic way of looking at it." He looked back over at Lyssa. "Your instincts were right—there are dimensions other than your own. Every now and then, an opening to another world will appear, by one of several ways. Either man-made or by natural circumstance. For the most part, we can control the results of those occasional rifts in space and time and right the worlds again. That is our job. Pryliwyks are guardians; indeed, their task is to see everything, to hear everything. Actually, it was a wise wizard named Ambrose who said that originally," the Pryliwyk explained. "But when humans choose to interfere in the natural order of things, then it is our task to set things straight. This is what happened to your Dr. Belson. His calculations were leading him straight into danger. He had to be stopped."

  "You killed Ted?"

  "No. Actually, we saved him. The police were right, his brake line was cut, and his brakes were out. He was trying to steer his car, so it wouldn't go off that cliff, when one of our agents ran infront of the car. In order not to hit the cat, Dr. Belson veered, sending himself over the cliff, exactly as we planned."

  Lyssa eyes opened wide. "Then you did—"

  "No, Dr. Tyler, we didn't kill him. There was an opening along the route that car took, which we pulled Dr. Belson through. He survived, the car didn't."

  "Then Ted's alive?" It was too much to hope for. Lyssa's eyes grew bright.

  "Dr. Tyler, Dr. Belson used you. He stole your theory, he jilted you, and besides, those broken brake lines were meant for you, not him. Dr. Belson's favorite student, Julie Anderson, saw to that."

  "What?"

  "Think back, Dr. Tyler. You ridiculed Dr. Belson at that dinner party, and did not have very many pleasant things to say about Miss Anderson. She wanted to get rid of you, so she had the brake line in your car cut. She had no way of knowing that Ted would take your car instead of his that day. She didn't know about the flat tire."

  "With you out of the way," David said, "Ted would become a rich man with his discovery. Of course, Ted had no intention of ever becoming permanently involved with Julie. But she didn't know that. He was only playing with her."

  Lyssa looked over at David. "What do you know about this?"

  David smiled and looked over at the Pryliwyk. He got off his stool and crossed over to her, taking off his glasses. "Here," he said, "Put these on." Puzzled, she took them from him, and tried them on. "They weren't polarized," he told her gently.

  What she saw were wings, wings on the Pryliwyk, and when she looked at David, her mouth dropped open. "David, your eyes!"

  David's eyes were green, a cat eye green, but more than that, they were cat eyes. David Eisner had cat eyes.

  "The glasses hide the reality," he explained.

  "I don't understand. Who—what are you?" Lyssa asked.

  "A graduate student, who saw that the lady scientist who was going to discover for herself where cats disappear to, got himself assigned to her, so he could help her find the way from her world into mine," he said, slipping the peculiar red-framed glasses off her nose, and then putting them back on his own. Immediately, human eyes looked back at her, with warmth and gentleness. "But he never reckoned on falling in love with her, at the same time."

  Lyssa stared up at him, confused and bewildered at all that was happening. "David, I …"

  "Then don't say a word," he finished for her. "Ted is alive and safe, in another world, where he can chase all the females he wants. You were right when you said he was a rat. But you were so in love with him, you were letting him destroy you."

  "But … who are you?"

  He smiled down at her. "My real name is Ambrose," he told her. "And once upon a time, I was a wizard who opened a rift …" he started, and then he kissed her.

  Wart

  Jayge Carr

  Wart hunkered down, scarcely breathing, only the cream-colored tail with its black tip swishing impatiently high.

  "Wart's stalking something again." Human-tom sounded amused. (Wart wished Human-tom would be more careful. That big booming growl of his had scared off more delicious prey—)

  Human-mommy laughed. "Probably a scrap of printout."

  "Are you criticizing my housecleaning," Human-tom teased. Even Wart could hear the amusement rollicking through the deep human growl.

  "Well—" Human-mommy sounded as though she were growling reflexively while concentrating on something else, the way Wart twitched his tail while stalking prey. "Better that than worrying about picking up pests on that last landfall."

  A smacking sound, as Human-tom did that funny noisy mouth-lick humans
seems to use instead of proper tonguing. (Though they did that, too. Wart had seen them several times. But oddly, only when they were in the bunk together.)

  Then he growled, "I'm sure you deconned thoroughly, love."

  "Uh-oh," said Human-mommy.

  "Picked up another transmission?" Human-tom was staring at the funny-window.

  "Jere—" Human-mommy's voice had that significant note in it; Wart swung his head around. "Jere, it was your turn to deconn last landing."

  Silence. Wart swung his head around, verrrry slowly stretched out a paw. Almost he had it, almost, just another little bit, just another—

  "Devi!" Human-tom almost shouted. Wart flinched at the noise, and his own motion swirled the dust bunny away. Wart froze again, as Human-tom went on, "Miri! It was your turn to deconn. I know it was."

  Silence, except for the click of Human-mommy's claws against the funny toy she called "keys."

  "It was your turn, Mm." More clicks.

  In a different tone. "Devi—" (Wart turned and saw Human-tom's gaze fixed on the funny-window.) "Devi, but I'm sorry, Mirr. I was so sure I didn't even bother to check the roster."

  A sigh. "It's all right, Jere, that's what we have the cats for, after all. Last resort against pests." Breath. "I just wish the computer would hurry up with the translation."

  Shrug in the voice. "In this sector of space—" Wart moved toward the dust-bunny again.

  "I know." Worry in Human-mommy's voice. She repeated Human-tom's words, somehow giving them a completely different meaning, loaded with significance. "In this sector of space …" A swallow. "But the transmission was so strong, although the sweeps show nothing, and nothing unusual in the scoops we've pulled in and dumped into the cargo hold. It—I—I just have this crawly feeling, Jere. I—I want to pull in the rest of the scoops and lie doggo."

  Sputtering from Human-tom. Wart ignored it. In just one little—

  "I know, Jere. I know what it'll cost us, in wasted fuel for the scoops, to say nothing of this ship's stopping and restarting, in time, in everything. But—we'll be much harder to spot, doggo; and I—I'll feel safer."

  Human-tom made the bird sound called a whistle. "And I'm supposed to be the gypsy fortuneteller off the pair of us, Miri. Well, my gorgio, supposed unespex love, if you feel that strongly about this, let's do it. Now."

  "Thank you, Jere."

  Human-tom lip-smacked her cheek again, then: "Gotta take care of all three of us. Shall I sit copilot."

  "You sit pilot and do it all, if you will, Jere. I want my console to concentrate on the translation."

  "All right." Sounds of large body plumping into seat. Wart ignored it. Snap! Triumph! Chomp. He he he, neither of them noticed. The last time he had caught a dust bunny, Human-mommy had grabbed at it, snapping, "Winston Churchill IV—" which he knew meant she was really angry, "—give me that, it's bad for you—"

  Wart licked his chops in contented satisfaction. The mighty hunter had—

  "Mrrrrr—" demanded another feline voice. Wart shrank into himself.

  Majestic as always, Grimalkin-Grey for shortstalked regally into the small control room. "Mrrrrrrr—"

  "Here, Grey." Human-tom patted his lap. "Don't jump on Miri."

  But Grimalkin knew whose orders she obeyed and whose she didn't; and whose lap—even in its present distended state she preferred.

  "Devi—" Human-tom swore, rising out of his seat, but instinctively keeping his hands on his controls.

  "It's all right, Jere." Small giggle. "There's still room."

  Human-tom muttered something that made Wart shrink himself even smaller.

  Then Wart noticed that Grimalkin's tail was swinging over the side of the lap, as she tried to accommodate her full sized Persian self into a decreasing area of lap.

  Swish swish, the tail moved hypnotically back and forth. Swish swish. Swish swish. Bushy and supplely-moving and oh … so … attractive. Wart crouched again.

  Swish. Moved forward a step.

  Swish. Another step.

  Swish.

  There was just the slightest change in the almost subsonic mutter of the ship, that Wart thought of as the giant ship-monster breathing. Wart hesitated.

  "I'm going to reverse power on us gradually, love, and cut power on the scoops but leave them out on a random drift pattern. Slowing us down that way'll take a couple of hours, but I want to conserve fuel as much as I can. We'll restart the scoops and collect them later."

  "Thanks, Jere." Human-mommy shifted slightly, and the tail—Wart had his gaze fixed on that fluffy gray eminence—picked up its rhythm slightly.

  "Wart!" Human-tom had spotted the stalk. "Don't you dare!" It was a Must-Be-Obeyed tone. Wart immediately sat up on his haunches, and began industriously cleaning between his. toes, all innocence and ignorance. Who me? Doing what?

  Human-tom choked off a laugh, but Wart could feel the human gaze fixed on him. He spread his paw luxuriously and continued to clean.

  "Oh my God!" The sick horror in those tones froze all three of the listeners. Even Grimalkin's tail stopped moving.

  "What is it?" Human-tom broke out of his paralysis to fling himself out of his chair. "Love? Miri? Is it time."

  He bent down, slid his arms under her knees and shoulders as though to pick her up.

  "No, Jere. Look! Fredessers!"

  Wart didn't know what fredessers were, but he had heard the humans mention them before several times, always in a tone that he himself used for sneaky stinging scorpions or those little slimy things that burned your mouth if you bit them, or maybe a swarm of buzz-divers.

  "Devi take them!" he breathed. "Where do you think they're hiding—"

  Sounding sick. "I don't know. I've been scanning all along at full range—"

  Thump as he landed back in the other chair again. "I'm reprogramming all doggo—"

  "Quickly—" Her voice rose on the last syllable.

  "Keep yours trying for a full translation," he gritted between his teeth.

  "I am. Do you want to switch chores?"

  "No. You've better intuit than I do. You keep with the translating. Engine work is practically automatic for either of us. Soon as I finish this, I'll send out an all-alert."

  "Oh, yes. If there's a fredesser armada in this sector."

  "Aleko protect them!"

  "Jere! I have a partial translation! Ambush! A larger vessel ambushed them!"

  "Good! Give the rotten sneaks some of their own back!"

  "Wonder why we can't see any of it. With the transmission so strong."

  "Just out of range. Devi! No telling what direction we're getting it from either."

  Wart decided that Human-tom was sufficiently distracted, i.e., attention off IMPORTANT matters, i.e., **Wart**, that he could make another try for that marvelous swinging tail …

  "Devi take them," Human-tom was muttering. "If only we knew where their home world is."

  Wart slid into his very best crouch.

  "Or home bases. Or anything." Human-mommy, despite large cat and equally large protuberance, was bending over her funny-window, her claws clicking frantically against the keys. Then she giggled. "If a computer generated translation of a nonverbal transmission could sound furious, this one does. They been had."

  Grim. "Serves 'em right." Wart waited his chance, tail a-twitch.

  Another giggle, as Human-mommy shifted slightly, and Grimalkin's tail stopped and restarted its slow rhythm. "The other vessel was doggo and then just turned on and tractored them—like a giant scoop clearing its filter and restarting. Sluuurp."

  "Giant scoops? Don't be silly, love."

  All business. "I have the slowdown programmed. I'm recording the alert message, now. I'll send it." Wart oozed closer to the flicking, twitching temptation.

  "Everywhere in this sector."

  "Don't teach grandma how to suck eggs," he muttered. Somehow, without taking his gaze from his own funny-window: "Don't, Wart."

  Wart decided that as long as Grimalkin w
as in here and the humans alert to a tail attack—he would do much better elsewhere. Casually, he got onto all fours and began strolling out.

  "MrrrrrRRRR." Grimalkin sneered at his retreat.

  Wart ignored her, his tail high and swishing.

  Once out of the control room, he had to decide what he wanted to do. Explore some more, follow a scent trail, just find a long corridor and do some dashing

  This new ship was so much smaller than the place he had been a kitten on. But he liked Human-mommy and Human-tom here. There he had been one of many cats, with many humans. Here it was only two humans and two cats. Loads of smells, too, ground-in, years-old faint smells, and newer, fresher ones, including the fascination of what Human-tom called his "herbgarden." So many things to like here, like the jingle and shinybrights on Human-tom's jacket made when Wart pawed at them or when the human moved, Human-mommy's warmth—when Grimalkin wasn't hogging it … 'course, that was the stinger … Grimalkin …

  If only Grimalkin wasn't so—so—

  What had Human-tom meant when he said something about, "Just be patient, little buddy. When you're old enough, instinct'll put her right where you want her… "

  Wart stopped, wondering. Sniffed. Wrinkled his aristocratic nose. What was different? Then he knew. The rumble had changed—that was it. It was much quieter! Much much quieter!

  And … he felt funny. Almost as if—

  A tiny dust fluff floated by. As he had many times before, Wart lunged for it. But this time, instead of rising perhaps three or four times his own height, he sailed up and up

  WheeeeeeEEEEEE!

  Wart landed with a light crouch. When he had been allowed out off-ship once, he had watched the flutterers going by in the air, jumped for them, wishing he, too, could float up as they could. Now he was!

  He took another jump, and mrrrred in displeasure when he slammed against the ceiling. There was more to this floating bit than he had thought!

  Another jump. Wheeeeee!

  Another. He had the knack now. He just had to turn in mid leap, and land Up, as if he were landing down, using his legs and—whooops! He "landed" on the ceiling, but when his legs crouched, he found himself launched off again