Kitty Katt 11: Alien Separation (12 page)

D
AWN WAS COMING,
as fast as night had fallen. But we hadn't slept any more after speaking with the Matriarch. Well, Christopher, Chuckie, and I hadn't. The Poofs were snoozing in my purse and Bruno was on my lap, head tucked under his wing, getting in his forty winks, too.

But the three of us chose to sit and watch the katyhoppers recreate their shield.

“If I'd known we were going through that, I might not have wanted to,” Christopher said quietly.

“True enough.”

The katyhoppers sprayed a clear liquid out of their butts all over the inner part of their copse of trees. As it solidified, it took on the look of the trees around them, almost in mirror image, so that it made the copse look double its size and also as if there were no easy paths in between the trees.

It took a lot of katyhoppers to do this—all the adults in the colony as near as I could tell. All but our three, who were staying in the nest with us now. But that was because they were now assigned to us by the Matriarch. “I'm choosing to believe it's water, okay?”

“I'm not,” Chuckie said. “But I'll spare you what I think it is.”

“Thanks, and I mean that, Chuck.”

“You suffered enough with the snakipede cleanup, Christopher. I see no reason to share more.”

Well, whatever else happened, these two had somehow crossed a bridge, and that was worth much of what we'd gone through.

The katyhoppers finished up and a few of them brought us more waterfruits. We finished up what we already had, and I put these new ones into my purse for later, just in case we couldn't get back here easily. Better to save my special requests for hard-to-find and necessary items, versus something I could pluck off a local tree.

Then it was clearly time to go. We remounted our katyhoppers and they flew us around the nest. We waved our hands to the katyhoppers and they waved their antennae.

“It's nice of them to tell us we always have a home here,” Christopher said as our katyhoppers landed on the ground and walked us back through what appeared to be a tree trunk but which we now knew was viscous katyhopper butt fluid.

Once outside the colony, though, Pinky shared that he'd like a destination. And I had no idea. “Um, let's get up high and take a look around, okay?”

We did so, and flew around again, just as we had the day before. This time we flew more toward the mountains in the distance. The land was dotted with more than copses of trees—which were where I assumed the other katyhopper colonies resided. There were hillocks with large holes on their sides, covered with the purple plants but not butterflies. Figured this was where chameleons lived, and when one popped its head out and sent its tongue up at us, that assumption was confirmed.

After about an hour of leisurely flying we passed over a carcass. I had the katyhoppers bring us a little closer so we could examine it.

“Is that Louie the Lizard?” I hoped it wasn't. I'd kind of gotten attached. But it was clear that the chameleon had been attacked by a snakipede, based on the fang marks, and a few other telltale signs, including what looked like a couple of snakipede wings. The chameleon had put up a fight. Good.

“Not sure,” Chuckie said. “But probably not. We've flown much farther than yesterday.”

“The chameleons are more sentient than the snakipedes.” Per the Matriarch, anyway, and I had no reason to disbelieve her.

“I'm sorry, Kitty,” Chuckie said gently, as we flew back up to where we had a better view of the horizon. “But we're in an animal kingdom, and we ourselves eat animals that are intelligent.”

“I know. I just . . .”

“You just get attached easily. I know.” Chuckie jerked. “Hey, look.” He pointed off into the distance, where there was what looked like a different mountain range than the one we were heading for. “Christopher, is that dust being thrown up into the air?”

Christopher and I both squinted where Chuckie was pointing. “Yes, I think so,” Christopher said slowly.

“Wow, Eagle Eyes Reynolds, come on down.” It was dust—if the dust on this planet was a reddish-ochre color. Based on the riot of color around me that was a safe bet. After all, this might be the Purple Land, but the Matriarch had definitely insinuated there were plenty of other lands on Planet Colorful.

“That color wasn't there a minute ago that I could see, that's all,” Chuckie said. “But thanks for my Old West Name.”

“So, do we keep on going toward these purple mountains, or do we head for the brownish mountains where we think something's going on?” Christopher asked.

Petted Bruno to wake him up. “Bruno my bird, are you up to some reconnaissance?”

He nuzzled me and gave me the head bob, meaning he was well rested and more than up to it. Bruno lifted off of Pinky's back, but to my surprise, the katyhoppers all followed him.

“Pinky, my proud steed, why are we all changing course?”

Pinky waved back at me. We had no real destination, so one mountain range was as good as another.

Saffron waved her antennae, too. They'd never been allowed out of the Purple Lands and all three of them were excited about the adventure.

Made sense that we'd landed with the brave, adventuresome katyhoppers. Who else would have tried to save us versus run away or eat us, after all?

Bruno was flying pretty fast, certainly faster than we'd gone yesterday or had been going today, and the katyhoppers were having no trouble keeping up with him. “Katyhopper Express is the way to go. Are they using hyperspeed, do you think?”

In my experience, every being from the Alpha Centauri system was super-speedy. But the katyhoppers hadn't shown any ability with this so far, and they'd been hella impressed by Christopher's hyperspeed cleaning of their nest.

“Not quite,” Christopher said. “Not supersonic, either. Frankly, I just think they're fast when they want or need to be, but not as fast as we are.”

“If they were A-C fast, they wouldn't have been afraid of the snakipede,” Chuckie pointed out.

“So does that mean no beings on this planet have hyperspeed? And, if so, wouldn't that be weird? Everyone else from this neck of the galactic woods has been super-fast.”

I'd just spent time going at supersonic speeds during Operation Bizarro World, so I could admit that this probably wasn't that fast, and Christopher was our Resident Hyperspeed Expert.

But I knew the Peregrines had hyperspeed, and I also knew Bruno was going fast, and faster than I felt I'd seen him go on Earth. So, if he wasn't using hyperspeed, but was still zipping along here, maybe Bruno could fly faster here at “normal” speeds for some reason. But I didn't feel either more or less weighty, and my knowledge of physics said that if there was a stronger or lesser gravitational pull on a planet, I'd feel lighter or heavier.

“Christopher, do you have any idea if there is more gravitational pull on some of the planets than others?” Chuckie asked.

“Wow, the mind-reading thing is getting freaky.”

“It's just a logical question under the circumstances,” Chuckie said.

“Yeah, it is,” Christopher said. “The question being logical and the mind reading being freaky, I mean. I have no idea about the gravitational pull, though. As with other things, if we can find Lorraine, Claudia, or Serene, they may know. But I don't. And I don't feel any different here than on Earth.”

“You mean besides being able to read each other's minds and commune with the katyhoppers, right?”

Christopher barked a laugh. “Right.”

We flew on toward the brownish mountains. Despite our moving swiftly it was far away. We had to stop at a lone tree and have a rest, during which time the guys and I ate food bars and we all had some more waterfruit, which thankfully every tree in this region produced in abundance. Still, I took more, just in case. We were heading toward a different color scheme, and it might not be as generous with the life-sustaining plant life as this one was.

We took off again and finally could see where we were heading. It was far more like the dust—a reddish-ochre—than the mountains, which were mostly browns. As such, this area didn't look nearly as inviting as what we were leaving. However, as with Purple Land, the colors were vibrant.

Finally, though, we left the purpleness fully and crossed over into reddish-ochre land. Didn't feel any different here, and the katyhoppers seemed fine, so that was one for the win column.

There was less plant life here and more dirt, but the plants and trees and such were all reds, browns, tawny yellows and oranges, and the like. The plants were far more scattered here than in the Purple Land, though there were more trees, and many more rocks and boulders than I'd seen on this planet so far. Some of the trees sort of looked like citrus trees, but only just.

The biggest similarity to the Purple Land was that the plants were all monochromatic within their color of choice. If a plant was yellow-brown, it was all yellow-brown. If a tree was orange, all of it was orange, from bark to fruit. But nothing here smelled like oranges.

As with the purple part of this world, this area didn't smell bad. But here the scent wasn't sweet—it was the smell of burning wood without the actual burning and sunsets. Mostly sunsets, really. Though, as with purple, before now I wouldn't have said sunsets had a smell.

Chuckie cleared his throat. “Ah, do you two think this area smells like, ah, sunsets?”

“Yeah, I do. Along with burning wood that isn't burned. And should I be glad we're still able to read each other's minds in this part of the world or not?”

“I get the smell of a cigarette before it's lit along with, yes, sunsets,” Christopher said. “But worry about the smells and the mind-reading stuff later.” He sounded tense but not snarky. Wasn't sure if that was a win or not, so decided to table that decision for later. “I can see what we're heading toward. It's a caravan of some kind.”

“How long before we intercept it?” Chuckie asked.

“Probably a couple of minutes. I don't think they're moving as fast as we are. Honestly, I don't think they're moving quickly at all. I'm pretty positive they're at a fast walk, not any kind of run. And by fast walk I mean for a human, not an A-C.”

“Regular speed? Normalcy? Come on, I don't think that's exactly on the docket.”

Christopher managed a chuckle. “No, probably not. But we need to assume that they have projectile weapons of some kind with them, if only because giant flying snake-things exist in at least one part of this world and I can say that if whoever's coming toward us is capable of it, making a weapon that could get rid of flying snakes while they were in the air would be the first thing I'd do.”

“Good point. But we don't look like snakipedes. At least, I don't think. Thank God.”

“No, but we have no idea if we look normal or threatening for around here.”

“Snakipede resemblance or not, I'd assume we look threatening,” Chuckie said. “Since even if the natives of this part of the world routinely ride on katyhoppers—which seems unlikely since our three friends have never left or been allowed to leave their region before—the Peregrine probably doesn't look like native birds, and none of us have a hope of being dressed normally for around here.”

Bruno looked over his shoulder at me, winked, then turned back and flew on.

“Um, Chuckie? If we look at Bruno's coloration, we have to ask ourselves if he would not, in fact, look totally like he belongs here on Planet Colorful.”

“Good point,” he conceded. “But whether that helps us, hinders us, or makes no difference at all for whatever's coming is something we're going to be finding out. And I truly doubt that the three of us can get away with blending in. We haven't blended yet.”

“I think we're about to find out,” Christopher said, voice tense. “Because I can see the caravan more clearly, and they have catapults. Incoming!”

He was right. Something was flying up from the caravan toward us. Something moving very fast.

“Um, guys? Is that what I think it is? Because if it is, I have one thing to shout. Bruno! Abort! Abort! Get to Kitty
now!
”

W
HAT WAS FLYING
up toward us wasn't a projectile, in that sense. What whoever on the ground had put into their catapult and tossed to us was, as far as I could tell, a cat.

Hyperspeed and my shouted warning or not, Bruno wasn't able to get out of the way. The cat hit my Peregrine and flipped itself around so it was on Bruno's back.

I didn't think about it. Bruno was under attack and that meant he needed help. I jumped up onto the back of my katyhopper and, with Chuckie and Christopher both shouting at me, leaped toward the Peregrine.

Hit the bird and was able to grab the cat by the scruff of its neck and get it away from Bruno. I was able to hold the cat out and away from me with one hand while I got Bruno tucked under my other arm. Did this all at hyperspeed, go me.

Of course, the problem was that I wasn't able to fly, neither was the struggling and yowling cat I was now holding, nor was Bruno, because I was holding him. I was also pretty sure he was hurt—the cat had big claws.

The cat was also, typical for the area we were now in, a rusty orange color, with some blacks, browns, and yellows for highlights. Elongated, pointy ears, and extremely bright blue eyes. It looked a little foxy and a lot like a caracal, but in the same way that Bruno looked a lot like a peacock—similar and yet stronger, a lot more human-level intelligent, and just a little more alien.

I could have let go of the cat, of course, but as far as I knew it had been thrown into the air much against its will. Most cats didn't think flying was da bomb, after all, and falling even less so. I could relate. However, like it or not, I was plummeting downward, and I had no chance if I didn't do something.

So I pulled the cat into my body. “Please don't claw Kitty, Ginger. This is going to hurt badly enough when we land.”

In point of fact, the cat didn't claw me. It looked up—well, relatively, based on the fact that we were kind of tumbling through the air—and gave me a very intelligent, very satisfied, and rather pleased look.

Checked Bruno. He seemed okay. Shaken, but okay. However, I wasn't sure that he was able to fly right now, since he wasn't trying to get away and take back to the air. “Hang on Bruno, my bird. And Ginger, you hang on, too. Just without your claws if at all possible, both of you, please and thank you. Kitty hopes these aren't going to be her last words, by the way.”

Memory nudged. I had Poofs on Board, meaning I could ask for Poof assistance. The last time I'd fallen from great height, down a long garbage shaft during Operation Assassination, the Poofs had provided a soft, safe landing.

But before I could speak, we hit, but not the ground.

We hit something, or rather, someone.

“Ooof!”

“Wow. If we're not about to be killed, and if tossing Ginger up into the air wasn't some sort of attack or, even worse, some sort of bizarre Start The Fighting Now ritual, this is really kind of romantic. If I ignore the ‘ooof,' that is.”

Jeff grinned as relief that he was here and okay washed over me. “You fell a long way, baby, that's all. And your purse is even heavier than normal.” Then he kissed me, and I didn't think about anything else for a good long moment.

Sadly, “moment” was accurate. Our kiss wasn't long. In part because I had two struggling and, now that we were on the ground, heavy animals in my arms, and in other part because I heard a lot of shouting.

Jeff heard it, too, of course. He ended our kiss and put me down. “It's okay, baby. They're friendly.”

“The natives around here throw cats up into the air via catapult to say ‘welcome to the neighborhood'?”

“No. The Lecanora I'm traveling with launched the ocellar before I could stop them. Hang on, I need to make sure they let Christopher and Chuck land.” He trotted off before I could ask him who the Lecanora were or how he was traveling with them. Of course, I was traveling with katyhoppers, so I was in no position to pass judgment.

I put Ginger onto the ground then did a fast examination of Bruno. Bruno seemed okay—a little bleeding, but as with everyone from Alpha Four, he was healing quickly. Once I was done he nudged his head up under my chin and I gave him a big hug. “Kitty's glad her big brave bird is okay.” Bruno shared that I was the best in his book, too.

Interestingly, Ginger didn't run off, but sat at my feet, in front of me. Now that we were on the ground I could verify Ginger's actual size. She—and I was sure it was a female in the same way I known Bruno was a boy when we'd first met—was about the size of a Peregrine without the tail feathers. So, smaller than a full-grown Earth caracal would be, but still, significantly larger than a housecat. So, fox-caracal was kind of right. Wondered if I should come up with a species name, then figured that Jeff had sort of insinuated that this was an ocellar, and decided to go with that for now and focus on more pressing concerns.

“Bruno, is it safe to put you down next to Ginger?”

Bruno eyed the big cat, who eyed him back. They had an animal conversation that I couldn't really catch, new mind-reading abilities notwithstanding, but finally Bruno kind of shrugged his wings, which I took to mean that he was willing to risk it but that if Ginger started something, Bruno was now prepared to finish it.

Put the bird down and he and the cat sized each other up. Then Ginger leaned toward Bruno and gently head-butted him. Bruno seemed surprised, but he head-butted back. Then they both settled at my feet.

Animal war averted, I looked to see what they were looking at. They weren't actually watching Jeff but Chuckie and Christopher and the three katyhoppers, all of whom were landing near to us but away from the caravan, which meant Bruno, Ginger, and I were between them and whoever Jeff was with. Based on this particular greeting, could not blame them.

Christopher and Chuckie dismounted and came over to me. The katyhoppers hopped along behind them. Planet Colorful was full of interesting and, happily so far, mostly friendly animal life. Hoped this trend would continue. One snakipede was enough for my entire lifetime.

“Thanks for taking yet more years off of our lives,” Chuckie said as they reached us.

“What Chuck said,” Christopher chimed in, gracing me with Patented Glare #5. “Why did you decide to jump off of Pinky instead of asking him to go faster?”

Knew they weren't going to like my answer. “I didn't want the katyhoppers to get hurt any more than I wanted Bruno to get hurt.”

The katyhoppers all nudged up to me and gave me their equivalent of gentle head butts—meaning I got antennae strokes along my arms.

Chuckie nudged me when they were done and had moved back a bit. “It's empathy more than mind reading, though I'm sure that's in there somewhere, too. That's why the animals become so instantly loyal to you. Your own form of empathy, I mean. Not like Jeff's.”

“I'm assuming you mean my special form of empathy is why I can talk to the animals, any and all animals. Maybe, I guess. But there are a lot of people out there who love and adore and are beyond empathetic with animals and they aren't having conversations with them in the way I tend to. I had no success with the snakipede, by the way. And I have no idea about the loyalty.”

“Whatever it is,” Christopher said quietly, “please keep on doing it. And Chuck, I can now confirm that we are definitely on Beta Eight.”

He was looking toward where Jeff had gone and I finally decided it might be a good idea to see just who my husband was hanging with, so I took a good long look.

Who Jeff was with was less of a shock than Chuckie and I landing on the tops of trees had been, or Christopher riding to save us on a katyhopper, or, really, anything else that had happened on this planet so far. So we had that going for us.