Catnip (30 page)

He sighed and wondered how things would go
from here on in. The KGB offshoots and their secret labs were
probably still working on transgenic experiments, but after he gave
the FBI his evidence—and in turn, after the FBI had informed
Interpol—Harry had the feeling that some heads would roll, and
they’d all be speaking Russian.

He also figured more than a few people at his
father’s old place of work would be getting a visit from the local
authorities. This thought made him smile. Justice would be
done.

A noise from the bedroom, a cross between a
meow and a wail startled him and he hurriedly closed the door and
locked it, just in case. In the bedroom, Anastasia had woken up and
sat on her haunches. She looked at him, her yellow eyes deep and
mournful. “Don’t worry,” he said. “He’s gone.”

She meowed softly and jumped on the pillow.
Her head swiveled as she searched for something, and after a quick
search, she found a science magazine on an overhead shelf and
pulled it down with her teeth and onto the center of the bed. With
a practiced paw, she flipped open the pages until she came the
passage she wanted. Another meow, this time more urgent, came from
her pink lips. Harry sat on the bed and picked her up. “What is
it?”

She moved her paw and a single claw came out
and pointed at the proper words in rapid succession.
Can you
duplicate your results?

It should have surprised him, her being able
to do this, but really, nothing surprised him anymore. “Yes,” he
answered, and stroked her back gently. His smile of appreciation
and wonder faded as reality hit. “But I don’t know if I can return
you to being human. You might end up like you were before. I’m
sorry, Anastasia.”

She meowed and once more nuzzled his face,
her whiskers tickling the undamaged spots. With a quick move, she
twisted her head back to the magazine and the search with her paw
began once more.
I don’t mind.

“It’s going to hurt,” he reminded her. “You
know that, right?”

A pause, and then,
I’m ready. If I can
stay with you, it’s enough.

He was gratified by her trust. He knew
exactly what to do now. As much as he’d loathed the Russian
scientist, he had to thank the man for writing down a key equation
which, when fed into his own set of equations, produced the
possibility of transforming his girlfriend back to her former
state.

Or so he hoped. Everything in life was a
gamble. So many things could go wrong, but he owed it to his
girlfriend to do what he could to help her. He loved her, and since
he’d officially become part of something much larger than himself,
a scientific world of theory made reality he knew he could never go
back to the way things were before. In fact, he didn’t want to.

Abruptly, Anastasia pushed the magazine away
with her paw and jumped off the bed. Curious, Harry followed her
into the main room and saw her sitting at his chair and staring at
the screen. The computer had stopped running the program and the
screen showed a number of DNA helixes all with the appropriate
chemical equations necessary for the transgenic shift. “You don’t
have to type in anything,” he said softly. “I’m pretty sure this is
it.”

Meow
went his lady love. He gently
shooed her off the chair and she took her place at the side of the
computer while he stiffly eased himself into position and started
typing. “Let’s see what turns up.”

He went through each scenario and nodded as
the results turned out positive each time. “Well, this looks okay,”
he said in a hopeful voice and leaned over to nuzzle his
girlfriend, nose to nose.

She batted at him with a closed paw like any
cat would. It was a friendly warning and he took it as such.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll get to work on it on Friday and we’ll be
together. I promise.”

The cat ran back to the bedroom and returned
with the magazine in her mouth. After jumping up on the table
again, she dropped it, flipped it open and searched for the correct
words, and laid out her terms.
I can’t wait.

She jumped into his arms. A loud purr came
from deep within her chest and filled the room. The sound, along
with the feel of her body, soft and supple and warm, calmed him
down and gave him the necessary inspiration to carry on. With a
quick and very human gesture, she put her paws around his neck. A
small but urgent voice whispered, “Please hurry.”

She still had the power of speech—but no one
had to know. It shouldn’t have been possible. A cat’s jaw and a
human’s jaw worked differently when shaping and creating words and
sounds. While he should have been surprised, he wasn’t.

He’d entered into a world where the formerly
impossible had indeed, become possible. Nurmelev had told him it
could be done, and his creation had proved it. Anastasia had fooled
him again just like she’d fooled everyone else, and he shook his
head in mixture of wonder and affection and yes, love. Above all
else, there was love.

“I will. Just don’t scratch.”

J.S. Frankel was born in Toronto, Canada, a
certain number of years ago. After receiving his degree in English
Literature from the University of Toronto, he worked in his
hometown for three years and then came to Japan in order to teach
English conversation to anyone who would listen to him. In 1997, he
married Akiko Koike and their union produced two sons, Kai and Ray.
Frankel lives with his family in Osaka where he teaches English by
day and writes at night until the wee hours of the morning.