London Wild (10 page)

A new narrative, a different voice
than the narrator of the
Pluto explodes
story, started to talk as the space vehicle began its preparation for takeoff. ‘One hundred and twenty-seven years ago, seventeen identical spacecraft were sent to the nearest stars in search of life. Twenty had been planned, but three of the craft suffered breakdowns and had to be aborted. Or, as in one case,’—here his voice suddenly became solemn—‘never left Earth’s atmosphere.’ This was basic history now and was taught as such at most schools. ‘It was a global effort. The United States led the way by financing six of the seventeen explorers, but countries in Europe, Asia and Africa also help to fund the effort.’

The camera followed the craft as it launched skywards and slowly disappeared into the ionosphere.

‘The first of these craft to return did so only thirteen years after they left. The light speed engines allowed them to be at their target location virtually instantly from their perspective, while for us on Earth, time passed much more slowly. They spent the next three years conducting rigorous surveys of all the planets in the Alpha Centauri system and returned empty-handed. Thirteen years had passed for us on Earth, while just the time they had spent surveying the planets had passed for that gallant crew.’

‘Over the hundred and fourteen years since the return of that first craft, six other explorer craft have returned safely, the data they had gathered being carefully checked and rechecked.’

‘Now the eighth craft, captained by Samuel F Goldberg and his crew of six men and women…’ The screen listed the names of the crew at the bottom; if George wanted, he could highlight one of the names and it would pause the news while he read about the age, the hobbies, the onboard tasks and so on of that crew member. The narration continued unbroken, ‘…has returned. They have docked with the moon colony and are receiving their debriefing there. It is thought that the U.S. president himself has gone to the moon to welcome these heroes back.’

He shrugged
; he’d like to go and see this man personally, but he didn’t really have the money to waste on the fare to America. Besides, it might be a few days before Samuel and his crew actually came down to Earth to begin the usual circuit of tours and press conferences.

George eyed the small bar that was still a little to his right. He fixed himself a drink before returning to his chair and continuing his look through the headlines.

The subject ‘
Crackdown on feline-related terrorism
’ almost jumped out at him. It was item thirty-two on the list, nearly at the bottom. Obviously it couldn’t be that important or it would be nearer the top. George highlighted the verbatim button again and pressed commit on his remote.

This time the picture was in a house similar to George
’s. The reporter was visible in the foreground talking to the camera, and in the background was a family of three with a pet Herbaht.

The reporter spoke. ‘Official figures released by government sources earlier today reveal that in the last month
, over five hundred soldiers, police and private citizens have been killed in a spate of cat-related crimes.’

George paused the newspaper and tapped his fingers on the edge of the chair
, thinking. There was always something about official figures that just didn’t sound right. It was known that there were approximately one hundred thousand Herbaht on the planet. At least seventy percent were pets. About a thousand lived in America, and maybe two or three more thousand were living in France. That meant twenty-six thousand, approximately, were living here, in Britain. Now, he knew that each one had to eat a whole human once a month, just to stay alive. That would mean twenty-six thousand dead humans a month, not just over five hundred. The numbers just didn’t add up; the numbers never added up. Yet you couldn’t really hide a statistic of twenty-six thousand dead a month. Something just seemed very wrong. 

George restarted the story. ‘It has been suspected for some time now that many of the domesticated cats are really wild and are simply hiding as pets, using the protection of respected families to hide from the law.’

‘The new policy is that all domesticated cats should be handed over to the authorities. They will be thoroughly checked, and as long as there seems to be no sign of rebellion in their history and nothing incriminating in their stomach, they will be returned to their owners, along with a certificate of authenticity that declares the cat safe.’

An image of such a certificate appeared on the screen.

‘Any they have doubts about will unfortunately be destroyed. This will upset many cat owners, but it is for the good of us all and the safety of our race as a whole.’

George shook his head
. The five hundred a month that were dying wouldn’t feed the wild ones, so why would they suspect domesticated cats too, unless they were up to something? George didn’t trust the government; they were always up to something. Besides, he hadn’t voted for them. So many things they had done lately seemed to have no real value or sense, and they had definitely hurt George. It had been a government edict that had caused the University to have to cut their budget and lose George his job; the same edict might also lose George his house if he couldn’t afford to keep up the mortgage payments, and he wouldn’t be able to if he didn’t find a new job soon.

‘There is to be a seven
-day grace period for this. All cats must be in government hands by the end of this period, or the owners can expect to be fined heavily and, depending on the seriousness of the infraction, might even have to spend time in prison. Reasonable appeals made by the owners of condemned cats will be considered and judged on their individual merit…’

Perhaps George was colored by his own political leanings, but he had this niggling feeling that the government was simply looking for a way to destroy all the domesticated cats in the country. First get them in custody back at the Cattery and then declare all of them dangerous and kill them. This government had never been too keen on the idea of having Herbaht as pets, though George found it ha
rd to believe that they might risk the wrath of the people by such actions.

Then there were the wild ones. It was true that most of the wild cats seem
ed to despise their domesticated brethren and their comfortable lifestyles, but would they sit back and watch as the government systematically exterminated them? This sort of thing could lead to war.

He shook his head. It could be that the government
was doing no more than they were claiming and that everyone would get their pets back in good order in the fullness of time.

Then he thought of Kitty. Could he as a loving cat owner really hand his pet over to the authorities in the hope that this government might finally keep one of its promises?

He pressed a small button on the control bracelet. It sent a signal to the collar Kitty was wearing to let her know that he wanted to talk to her urgently. He’d given her the run of the house, and it would be up to her whether or not she wanted to answer the summons.

She appeared in the doorway of the living room no more than two minutes later. She was wearing the clothes of her station, casual human
-looking clothing with a hole for her tail, usually referred to as pet’s rags by the wild Herbaht. She paused in the doorway and looked at him questioningly.

He beckoned her in and walked over to the bar. ‘Can I get you something to drink?’

She shook her head, her eyes on him. ‘You wanted to talk to me?’

He nodded but seemed to be having trouble saying anything.

Kitty stepped across the threshold of the room, her eyes firmly fixed on her master. ‘What’s wrong?’ she said.

‘I’ll miss you,’ he replied sadly. ‘But I have to let you go.’

‘Go? Go where?’ she replied, a little startled. ‘Where are we going?’

‘No,’
he said simply. ‘I have to release you.’ There was a tear swelling up in his left eye. He tried to ignore it; he had to be strong for Kitty. He couldn’t allow himself to break down in tears in front of her; he didn’t want her so upset that she’d refuse to obey him.

He reached over and removed the collar from Kitty’s neck. Her hands moved to where it had been. She felt naked without it, naked and vulnerable.

‘But without that, people might think I’m a threat to them.’ There was panic in her voice; did her master mean to throw her onto the streets with not even the illusion that she was still a pet to protect her?

‘It’s been on the news,’ George told her
. ‘They are locking up all the domesticated cats. I think they intend to systematically wipe your entire race out. I may be wrong, but I don’t think so. I’m thinking it’d be safer for you to hit the streets for a month, and then perhaps we’ll see if this thing will blow over. If it does, you’d be welcome if you want to come back.’

‘What do I do? How do I live?’ asked Kitty.

‘Before you leave I’ll give you the remainder of the pills I have; there’s just under a month’s worth. I’d go and pick up more, but with the announcement they’ve just made it’d look very suspicious. I’d suggest you live as best you can. Keep to the side streets and move only at night. Head towards Sou’nd; I’ve heard the wild cats number their strongest there.’

Kitty nodded.

‘If I knew how the wild cats lived, maybe I could give you better advice.’ He grabbed a piece of paper from a handy notepad and wrote down his link number. He handed the paper to Kitty. ‘Remember to keep in touch. Call every night if you can. I’ll give you some paper money. Don’t use it unless it’s a machine; the first human who sees you will probably try to kill you if he doesn’t just raise an alarm. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to come home.’

Kitty took the paper and looked at it. She couldn’t actually read words, but numbers were something else. ‘Won’t the wild ones tear me apart when they see me?’ she asked
, seeming very worried about the whole thing, but obviously trusting that her master would do right by her.

‘They might
.’ George was unsure. ‘I know very little about them. I hope they’ll see that you’re both in the same predicament now and take you in, but be careful anyway. Remember, you need to take one pill every day.’

Kitty seemed to be trying to put a brave face on it. She clearly didn’t want to leave
; indeed, George didn’t want her to leave either, but she really had no choice in the matter. She took the pills George offered her and headed towards the front door. Fear, mingled a little with anticipation, seemed to show on her face.

‘I’ll check
that the road is empty before you leave,’ he said to her. Then he stopped as he looked at her. Her tail was too obvious, for a start, and she wouldn’t last five minutes in the real world in just the rags she had on.

He got his coat from the hall closet and attached the hood
. ‘People might wonder why you have the hood up when it isn’t raining, but it’ll help to hide your facial stripes and your eyes. The coat will hide your tail and the rest of your stripes. Be very careful.’

Kitty took the offered coat and threw it about her as she’d seen George do on many an occasion. She moved the hood into place and snuggled into it. It would help fight the cold
a little, as well as hide her; she’d be very glad of the coat in an hour or two. She admired herself in the hall mirror for a moment. Her face was still clearly striped and her eyes seemed to stand out from the hood, but it was better than nothing.

George ventured out into the darkness. He waved to someone across the street and then rested on his car, just chatting to the neighbor about this and that and waiting for her to vanish back into her house. In his own house he was well aware of Kitty waiting patiently and watching him through a small crack in the door.

George was beginning to feel the cold of the night air and wished the neighbor would go indoors. It was dark. It wasn’t safe for the neighbor to be out anyway. It wasn’t safe for him to be out.

Eventually the neighbor did make an excuse and go indoors. George waited until he was sure the neighbor wouldn’t reappear and then signaled Kitty to come and join him.

She left the house that had been her home since she had been no more than a kitten. There were tears in her eyes as well, but also an obvious sense of love for her master who even now was putting himself at risk of imprisonment to ensure her safety.

George realized that she might just decide to go her own way
, regardless of the outcome of the next few days. But he felt it most likely that she would return to him as soon as she could, as soon as he told her it was safe.

George petted her head gently and said, ‘Remember to call every day
to let me know how you’re getting on, and so I can tell you when it’s safe to return.’

‘I love you,’ Kitty said simply
. ‘I won’t forget.’ And she left him, turning right when she was beyond his garden wall while George still rested on his car, watching her until she was out of sight around another corner.

He returned to the living room.
He was happier that he’d given his pet a chance to survive, but he was an emotional man and hadn’t felt this much sorrow since he had seen his wife and son die.

Pursuit