Kitty Katt 11: Alien Separation (11 page)

A
ND NOT JUST ANY HISS.
A very loud, very long, very big-sounding hiss. A hiss that sounded like it was coming from the biggest teakettle or, far more likely, the biggest snake around.

The guys and our animals were all awake now. I'd felt them wake up, hear the sound, and freeze. And I could feel the fear—not only from those of us in our nest, but from all the katyhoppers. Whatever kind of snake-thing was out there, it was what the katyhoppers feared the most. So I had that in common with them.

We shifted around so that we were all on our backs, looking up at our katyhoppers. What I wanted to do most was burrow under covers we didn't have and hide. What I wanted to do next most was hide behind Chuckie and Christopher, which, considering we were all lying down, wasn't a workable plan, either. And, what I wanted to do as a third alternate was run away as fast as possible. Of course, I had no idea where I'd run to in the first place, and in the second place, that would leave the katyhoppers alone to deal with this terrifying predator.

However, what I did was force myself to reach up and slowly and quietly drag my purse to me. Got it over my neck and put the Poofs into it. And all the while the rustling and hissing kept on intermittently.

As I moved Bruno onto my stomach, I realized that the rustling sounded like it was coming from above us. Meaning the snake was in the trees. Or snakes.

Chuckie took one of my hands in his and Christopher took the other. Presumed they'd both either read my mind or were just good guessers about the state of said mind. They both squeezed my hands gently and I clutched them back in a death grip.

The rustling got louder. And closer.

Most of my mind was terrified because I was beyond terrified of snakes. But there was a calm part of my mind, too. Oh, it was a small part, to be sure, but a part nonetheless. And this calm part of my mind wondered if the snake always came around, or if it was coming tonight because we were here.

We had to smell different from anything else on this planet, other than those who'd been brought over with us—if they were even on this planet. And we made noises while we slept, and the katyhoppers didn't.

So it could have smelled us, heard us, or both. But the likelihood that the snake was here because of us seemed awfully high.

And that meant that dealing with it was also up to us, because the katyhoppers had helped us and protected us, and that meant we had to do the same for them.

I had no idea what was really out there, or what would kill it, but I had one thing that was unlikely to be available on this planet—I had my Glock.

Let go of Christopher's hand and slid my hand into my purse, taking time to pet the Poofs along the way, more to comfort myself than to comfort them. Got my gun in my hand and drew it out slowly. The safety was on—proving, as if I needed it, that Algar had had a hand in my purse's contents, because I still forgot to set the safety an easy nine times out of ten—and I didn't take it off, because we were in too close of quarters to risk it.

That Glocks in the other universe I'd visited didn't come with safeties had been a shock. They still worked like a Glock otherwise, though, so I'd been able to stay in practice while I was gone.

Which was hopefully going to be a good thing. I'd faced a giant snake during Operation Fugly, after all. If I'd handled the Serpent without losing it, I could handle whatever was out there in the dark. And Christopher and I had both dealt with a big rattlesnake during Operation Fugly, too. Sure, we'd blown up the apartment building where I'd lived to get rid of it, but that was due to our enemies having set bombs there more than any overkill for one deadly snake.

And maybe if I told myself these things over and over again, I'd believe them—the Little Kitty That Could sort of thing.

I was able to see better, and I realized this meant that the katyhopper young were waking up. This wasn't going to be good.

Let go of Chuckie and gently shoved at Pinky. At first the katyhopper didn't move, but he finally got the hint and moved back a bit so that I could sit up. The guys did the same with their katyhoppers, and we were all able to get up. I hugged Bruno, then put him down.

We all looked around. Unsurprisingly, the A-C spotted what was hunting us first.

Christopher pointed, up as I'd surmised. Focused on where he was indicating and, after a few seconds, I could see it.

It was a lot worse than I'd been imagining.

The snake above us wasn't as big as the Serpent, so we had that going for us. Unfortunately, it was easily triple anaconda-sized, especially in girth. And it also had wings. Lots and lots and lots of little wings on its back. It also had some weird, short, antenna-like protrusions above its eyes.

Basically it was a snake crossed with a centipede, only instead of a ton of little legs on the underside, it had all those wings on top. Presumed it was in the purple family, because it was hard to see and I figured we were only able to catch a glimpse because our eyes were adjusted to the light and all the katyhopper babies were awake.

Though the glow wasn't as light as I would have expected. Risked a look around and saw all the adults with young standing over them, just as Pinky, Saffron, and Turkey had done with us. So they'd been protecting us from the predator.

“Is it inside the nest's protection?” I asked as softly as possible.

Pinky moved his antennae just a little, presumably his way of speaking softly in kind. Snakes were good at catching small movements, too, so he was probably trying to remain unnoticed. But basically, I got the impression that his answer was a terrified “not sure.”

Didn't want to, but I forced myself to focus on the snakipede. If I could sense a mind there, maybe I could communicate with it, make it a friend, or at least make it go away.

But I got nothing. Whether this meant that there was no mind there—which I doubted—or that I either had no affinity with said mind, and vice versa, I couldn't say. But my mind melding with the snakipede appeared to be out as a workable option.

There was a good chance the snakipede was sentient to a higher degree than snakes on Earth—the katyhoppers certainly were. But I didn't care. It was threatening our new friends—friends who'd gone out of their way to protect us—and that made it an enemy. And Christopher and I both had something that, potentially, the snakipede didn't—hyperspeed. And I had a gun with a lot of bullets.

The snakipede reared back all of a sudden, hissed in a triumphant manner, and slammed its head toward the nest, jaws open, huge fangs gleaming in the low light. Whatever the illusion was that protected this area, it shattered. Literally. Shards of iridescent something floated down like snowflakes.

The katyhoppers made sounds now, the same sounds that our three had done before—the screeching that sounded like a rusty metal door being opened slowly—only it was all of them, extremely loud and incredibly close.

The sound was painful, but the snakipede wasn't stopped. It sailed in toward the nest.

Mom had spent a lot of time working with me on relaxed, rapid-fire shooting. Christopher had worked with me for several years now, perfecting my ability to get to my inherited A-C skills when I wasn't enraged.

Which was good, because I wasn't mad—I was terrified. But the katyhoppers were more terrified. Each were grabbing young and trying to fly to safety, but the snakipede was fast and above us, and it was striking to keep all of them down and inside. And, unlike a regular snake, because of its wings, it didn't need to land on anything.

I aimed for the snakipede's head, ready to shoot. But it was moving too much and too fast for me to shoot without risking killing a katyhopper. But it was getting closer to them, and one of the next strikes was going to include a katyhopper death—at least one, if not many more. A snake this size could easily eat the entire colony.

That left me really only one option. Took a huge breath, let it out slowly, put up my Glock, and shouted, “Hey! Over here, you horrible nightmare!” At the top of my lungs.

Which worked. Because the snakipede zigged when it had been zagging toward a katyhopper family and aimed right for me and everyone in my nest. So, you know, go me.

A
S THE GIANT
snakipede flew straight toward us, I ignored everything else and focused on its horrible head. Took aim—right between its eyes and antenna-like protrusions—and fired.

Emptied the clip into the snakipede's head, reached into my purse, pulled out another clip, dropped out the old, put in the new. At hyperspeed. And without missing a beat. Then I emptied the new clip into the thing's head, particularly into its gaping, open maw.

The snakipede's head exploded and the Poofs took over.

They went large and in charge, roared, then leaped onto the rest of the snakipede and devoured it in moments. Burped discreetly, then went small and back into my purse. All this only took a couple of seconds. Clearly the Poofs had been starving.

“Wow, got a double. Killed the terrifying monster and fed four out of our five animal companions. Go team. Can I cry, freak out, and throw up now?”

“No, but that was impressive as hell,” Chuckie said, voice shaking just a bit. “Truly.”

“I agree, and I just hope to hell you didn't kill the katyhopper's god or something,” Christopher added.

It was hard to tell if the katyhoppers were relieved, freaked out, still frightened, or all three. But the three with us stayed with us, so that was good. Especially when the elders flew up and started waving antennae about like antenna waving was going out of style and they needed to use up their full supply before sunrise.

Pinky, Saffron, and Turkey all waved antennae right back. It didn't take an insect languages genius to realize they were arguing. But I also didn't need Bruno to translate. Meaning I was getting more simpatico with the katyhoppers, which was hopefully a good thing.

“We didn't tell you about the Poofs because we didn't want to scare you,” I said, when there was a pause in the antenna waving. “And we know we're what attracted that snakipede thing to your nest. That's why we were the ones who killed it.”

“Snakipede?” Christopher asked.

“It's Kitty, why ask why? But if you need a translation, that snake had what looked like a hundred tiny wings instead of legs, which is where the centipede part comes in, I'm sure.”

“Right you are, Chuckie. And, guys? Be ready to be tossed out of the nest. I can understand why our hosts are upset with us, even though we had no idea that the snakipede existed, let alone that it would hear the noises all of us make while we're sleeping.”

I was saying this far more for the katyhopper elders' benefit than anyone else's and I was happy to note both men seemed to catch on.

“Were any katyhoppers hurt?” Chuckie asked.

Antennae waved. “No, the snakipede spent too much time keeping them in the nests and playing around. Thankfully. And I distracted it just in time.”

“Good,” Christopher said. “Is there anything we can do to help fix nests or the protective illusion or similar?”

Antennae waved again, but this time with much less agitation. “No. We can't fix anything. Unfortunately, the nest is fouled due to the snakipede's head exploding all over it.”

And this was the main point of contention—we may have saved the day, but we'd also destroyed their home in the process.

“I can clean it, in less time than anyone else, if someone tells me what needs to be done to get rid of whatever the snakipede's residue is,” Christopher said calmly.

This earned him skeptical antenna waves from the elders.

“He can. He's the fastest being out there, as far as we know. It's worth a try, isn't it? If he's wrong, what do you lose?”

The elders communed together and finally admitted they'd lose nothing in Christopher making the attempt.

“Okay, they're willing to let you try. It's kind of complex and totally icky, by the way. What you have to do to clean up, I mean. And I'm not sure that Chuckie and I can help.”

“Don't need it. I can manage. Just tell me what to do.”

Leaves from the trees were brought down, as were waterfruit. Basically, Christopher had to cleanse the nest using the trees. Which made some kind of sense.

Christopher zipped off to do what I could say with confidence was the weirdest housecleaning of his life. Pinky, Saffron, and Turkey went with him. Figured it was going to take him a little longer than normal, but probably not as long as the katyhoppers expected.

“I could understand most of what they were saying,” Chuckie said to me while we waited. “Not as much as you could, but then animal communication isn't my talent.”

“No, being the smartest guy in the purple is. So, why do you think we can commune so easily with an alien race that has almost nothing in common with us, physically at least?”

“My guess is the air and the water are charged with something that enhances psionic ability. Meaning that your husband, if he's here, may be able to find us if you just concentrate on him.”

“I'll try that once we've fixed things with the katyhoppers. Besides, I don't want Jeff or anyone else coming around here in the dark—the snakipedes are nocturnal. And there are definitely more of them.”

Elder antennae waved at this. There were many more of them, and I'd been correct in my assumption—the snakipedes were this area's top predator. But they did offer some reassurances that I, personally, appreciated.

“Interesting,” Chuckie said. “Did I interpret correctly? They just told you that the snakipedes, as you've so aptly named them, aren't intelligent like we, the Poofs, Bruno, and the katyhoppers themselves are?”

“That's indeed what they shared. I'm glad. I was a little worried that I was killing something really smart. Then again, I've killed smart people. A lot, if I stop to count.”

“Yeah, let's not list your carnage abilities for our new friends right now. Especially because we really want to keep them as our friends.”

“Well, that was gross,” Christopher said as he rejoined us. The katyhopper elders seemed shocked. Nice to know they didn't have hyperspeed. “Now what?”

Pinky, Saffron, and Turkey arrived as he asked this. But before any katyhopper could wave an antenna at us, they all turned and looked up. So we did the same.

A large, ancient katyhopper was slowly descending from a nest above ours. I could tell it was old not only because of how slowly it was moving, but because its chitin was multicolored. It stopped at the nest above ours and began to wave its antennae at us.

Did the interpretation, just in case. “This is the colony's, oh wow, matriarch. Or shaman. Or both. I think both. Every katyhopper here is related to her in some way and she's been in this nest colony for, gosh, if I'm understanding this right, a thousand years.”

Chuckie whistled softly. “It's possible. Based on coloration, shaman or similar is also a good bet.”

“She's thanking us for saving the nest and you, in particular, Christopher, for cleansing it so well.”

“Ah, tell her I was happy to do it.”

“She can understand us. They all can. Their antennae take the sound waves and translate them into their heads. The Matriarch is tasking us with an important job, though.”

She waved antennae and even got her legs and wings into the action. Once I got what she was saying, though, I understood why.

“There is danger from above. And not just the snakipedes. The Matriarch has seen something they haven't seen before in the skies. The other Matriarchs of the other katyhopper colonies that are, apparently, scattered throughout this part of the world, the purple part, all have seen it, too.”

“What have they seen?” Chuckie asked.

“They can't describe it.”

The Matriarch hopped down to me and put her antennae against my temples. And I could see exactly what she had. And more. Then she backed away and waited.

“We'll do what we can. All we can. I promise.”

The Matriarch waved her antennae, but this time at our three katyhoppers. Then she bowed to me, turned, and hopped back up to her nest.

“What did she show you?” Chuckie asked.

“What's coming. What's out there.”

“And that is?” Christopher asked.

“Spaceships. And lots of them.”