Star Kitten (42 page)

On the black market though, finding tinted
glass sections to construct a dome… those were not so easy to find…
and not so inexpensive either. However just like any black market
anywhere in the universe, if it could be got, it could be bought.
Eventually those glass panels were indeed acquired, and before long
when the frame was nearing completion, a source for them was
identified and a chain of traders developed across the galaxy to
discretely complete the transaction. This made the panels much more
expensive, yes. But it kept the ultimate buyer’s true identity
concealed well enough that the factory source really had no clear
idea where their product was ending up (even if they really
cared—which they didn’t).

Refurbished ships (fresh from the new
terminal where they were given a makeover inside and out) flew into
Frabrak 3 ports looking like new. Porkonji officials admitted them
without many questions, and even when they did, higher level
authorities had been paid off to override any customs officers
disputing the questionable paperwork. It wasn’t smooth, no not by
any stretch, but it worked. Soon New Australia was ferrying
supplies back from trade missions all over the galaxy; and hauling
away tons of ore and gemstones to trade with.

Slart engineers and agricultural specialists
next started planning for the layout of the farms; and the proposed
crops to be planted. Soil would need to be engineered; using a
combination of manure and fertilizer. However with their
specialties in mining acquired over the years Slart planners had
developed quite a system for producing rich soil. This would lead
to achieving regular abundant harvests of healthy fruits and
vegetables for the population of the planet below.

Spleef tribes took over the not-so-appealing
task of gathering manure and other organic waste throughout the
planet using service tunnels, mining tunnels, and elevator shafts.
They scooped it up with shovels into dump haulers and drove these
vehicles all over the planet like legions of garbage men.
Heretofore, waste and dung in each tribal territory had been
collected in caves, then buried with sand and dirt. Now these same
dung heaps were to be excavated and the decomposed compost could be
processed into fertile soil.

Spleef work crews made for a perfect
solution to the gathering of this stinking filth… they didn’t seem
to be bothered by it in the least actually. And their massive work
details of twenty to even five hundred workers at a time; had no
problem moving the rather pungent natural resource up to the
surface to be processed into soil. Massive pits were dug using
earth movers driven by Porkos in breather suits. But otherwise,
“soil production” became a monopoly business for the Schpleeti
tribal chieftains. To the Spleefs, this task was no less honorable
than farming or mining—and no less valuable to the greater good of
the planet, than the bravest of warriors defending Naustie ships as
they flew across the galaxy. Shit haulers? Maybe. But the Tribal
Confederation referred to them officially as “Soil Production
Engineers”, and the Spleefs relished this moniker proudly.

Next came the issue of irrigating the farms;
and since this was the first of the water pumping facilities to be
constructed; everything was theoretical at the outset. How much
water would be needed; and how would the oxygen generation
processes perform? Only time would tell; but the ingenious Slarts
meticulously planned every phase of the construction and
implementation. It was quite diabolical in its scope; but the
custom-designed facility for pumping water and producing oxygen
most certainly had a reliable and infinite source of electrical
power: the intense rays of the Rijel sun. Slarts merely tapped into
this by ordering and having constructed their own independent solar
power station for the plant.

Solomon was quite proud of the project; and
to his credit, stayed out of the way; preferring instead to just
let the project come together without being much involved
personally. Tribal Confederation wisely selected a Slartigifijian
to oversee the construction; and let this Slart choose his own
staff as well as construction teams of Porkos to do the heavy
lifting. Solomon’s minor contribution to the whole operation was to
suggest the acquisition of a thousand “breather suits” for workers
to adorn themselves with on the worksite. These were acquired as
always, through the black market.

These suits were originally made for Porkos
but large-sized humans could wear them as well, when needed. They
covered the whole body with breathable material that kept the body
cool; while generating oxygen that could be breathed and keep the
worker functioning on the forbidding surface for several hours at a
time. A small apparatus was worn on the back which produced and
pumped oxygen into the interior of the suit and was sealed by a
small helmet which had a tinted bubble to allow good peripheral
vision, while shading him from the sun.

True, a full-grown human could wear such a
suit; but they’d look rather ridiculous in it, compared to the much
larger Porkos. That said, Solomon did save for himself a couple of
suits to wear when he visited the work site; and he took Felina
with him whenever he went out there in a surface rover. Several
months later, as construction was progressing and soon the glass
panels were being stockpiled for the final phase of the
superstructure, he and Felina had become a regular sight to the
work crews.

They were actually downright inseparable as
a matter of fact. One might say they had become quite an “item” on
New Australia by then. Everyone loved to see them together; and
everyone readily noticed how much the kind and beautiful Pumalar
Empath had changed the man. Solomon was nicer, calmer, and seemed
to speak noticeably different as well. The Naustie construction
teams liked this much more peaceful version of their heretofore
intimidating and much colder, emotionless terminal chief. He smiled
more… seemed happier by far. She was with him almost constantly.
Rarely did anyone see them apart.

Felina smiled almost effervescently and did
so with little provocation or urging. As Solomon changed into a
more joyful man; she became even more outgoing too! Solomon rarely
needed to finish a sentence. She’d speak for him, as if his
thoughts were forming in his mind but the words hadn’t yet
developed. With a mere look or a gesture from Solomon, Felina was
already feeling what he felt, and sensing what he was needing to
express. In time, she just spoke for him; and it was always better
hearing it from her anyway.

Construction workers delighted in seeing
them drive up regularly in their surface rover. It almost always
resulted in a pleasant meeting or conversation with the two of
them—workers gathering around to enjoy a cool drink or a snack
they’d bring out in the bed of their vehicle. At Felina’s
suggestion, they even installed a solar-powered refrigerated
compartment on the back to hold chilled water bottles. She’d laugh
joyfully as the Porko workers would rip off their helmets and douse
their heads in ice water, snorting and snarling with happiness and
relief.

In their baggy suits, the two looked
hilarious to begin with; and the mostly Porko construction crews
could recognize them immediately. Their presence always lifted
spirits and increased morale. After all, the construction was
incredibly grueling in the heat; even with breather suits on.
Neither Solomon nor Felina could even imagine what it must be like
working out there. Porkos could handle it, yes; but few other
beings could last out there for long. The suits made a human body
feel like it was in a hot sauna room. Any prolonged exertion would
cause a healthy grown man to overheat in bathing sweat and pass
out. Felina, for her part, had to nap in the surface rover on the
drive back almost every time. For Pumalars, the surface was
impossibly difficult to handle, even with breather suits. And
Solomon? He never remembered Africa being this hot! Not even
close.

But they went out there to visit the work
crews every few days without fail. And the workers came to count on
them. Porkos absolutely loved hearing the sound of Felina’s buzzing
purring voice too! In her breather helmet, that voice became even
more distorted and bizarre sounding; which made it all the more
humorous. They just loved her. So did Solomon. Truly he was falling
deeply and passionately in love with the elegant she-cat. It was
evident in every way… the way they stood close to each other… the
way he looked at her lovingly when she spoke.

The couple was soon seen everywhere on the
planet too, not just job sites. Solomon visited other tribes within
the planet interior, arranging diplomatic missions to go take
Felina around and meet all the different chieftains, their
warriors, their workers, and their farmers. By now, hydroponic
farms were spread out all over the interior of hollowed out caverns
giving each tribe its own domestic food source. Mining operations
were conducted throughout the planet as well; and
well-fed/well-rested workers made for far better mining output than
in the old prison system. Solomon wanted her to see everything.
Wanted her to know everyone. Took her everywhere with him.

Tribal cultures varied almost everywhere
Solomon and Felina went. And she found it fascinating. The
Inshallah tribe for example: they were quite intriguing to Felina.
She’d never experienced such a thing. Muslims all of them; they
were very often praying, kneeling, and bowing toward the same
direction (Earth, as they explained it…some place they called
Mecca). As for Solomon—who was from Africa—he’d seen and
experienced Muslims as a youth, as well as their practices. But
Felina had a lot of questions to ask of them… to try and understand
their customs. Solomon bristled at times, knowing she was asking
some quite sensitive things; but as always her charming and calming
tone put everyone at ease around her.

The peaceful Inshallah tribal elders
patiently answered all her questions with great detail and it even
seemed like they did so with great enthusiasm. This surprised
Solomon—the hardened former African warlord. It occurred to him as
though it was even downright gratifying for the Muslims to respond
to her litany of naïve questions, despite her being a female—and an
“infidel” at that.

But it made sense really. These quite
isolated tribesmen with such different customs to other tribes
likely enjoyed the chance to explain their ways to an outsider.
They were proud of their little society; and their abstinence from
imbibing alcohol or committing sinful acts of the flesh. They were
proud of their piety, and grateful for all of Allah’s blessings.
Better yet, they were so very pleased to tell all of this to the
adorable kindly she-cat, and bask in her complete unreserved
acceptance of them. Felina listened and purred patiently as they
showed her around their community. She sat with them on mats and
talked, absorbed their words, and most of all heard the deep
feelings behind those words too.

As Felina summarized it
back to them, with her usual uncanny skill at understanding one’s
words better than they could have said it in the first place, “I
see, so you believe your God delivered all of you here to not only
purify yourselves with penance for your sins… but…
Allah
actually gave you
all an opportunity to reach an inner sense of peace within your
souls. You’ve been able to become more Godly men in the
process—through God’s blessings—in sending you all here. This is
why you all demonstrate your piety and respect for God by
abstaining from drinking and fornication like other
tribes.”

Then she gave a warm wonderful smile, saying
sweetly, “I think that’s very beautiful, indeed.” A deep momentary
pall of silence befell the audience of mostly older black men
gathered all around her in the main cave where they conducted all
their ceremonies. Deeply affected, many of them gradually started
murmuring excitedly. The elders nodded in peaceful bliss. “Yes,
Felina… that is exactly what we believe,” smiled their chieftain,
an old black man from America who now called himself Abd Al
Hammid.

Solomon was so very proud of her, he could
just burst. Truly this was the woman of his dreams. And yet, not
even a woman at all. She couldn’t bear children, not even with a
Pumalar male. She could not betray him. Couldn’t denounce him or
break his heart. She couldn’t be anything but perfect… in every
way… for the rest of his life. She was greater than any wife he
could have imagined in his wildest dreams; and she was all his,
committed completely. It was in her very nature to match and adapt
perfectly with any mate; and because she was both wise and
outspoken, she was even better—yes better—than any other Pumalar
Empath. To Solomon it even occurred to him that he’d only scratched
the surface of her true potential.

But not all of this
diplomatic tour was a
pleasant
experience for Felina. Some tribes clearly were
abusing their female tribal members and causing them undue
hardship. Females were in some rare instances kept like prisoners
or held in caves like animals, to be brought out occasionally for
“entertainment”. This was unacceptable to Felina. True, in most
communities, many females were mere servants to the males in their
tribe, assigned to cleaning and food preparation. Their domestic
duties made for a contribution to the societies they lived in, but
their status was clearly that of slaves; and there was no better
word for it. Even where there was partnering of females with males…
it was nothing more than like a valued piece of property or a
prized pet being claimed by an owner. No equality, certainly. And
little in the way of respect.

Felina—true to form—spoke
up about it to her mate, Solomon. Occasionally she even felt
compelled to enlighten all the others around her too! Tribesmen and
their chieftains all got the full brunt of her wise words on
numerous occasions. But Solomon just let her speak her mind. He
loved her, yes. Anyone could see it, in the way he acted around
her. And the other chieftains gladly gave ear to her observations.
She was an honored guest after all, and that meant she had the
status associated with being the clearly-defined
mate
of a fellow
respected tribal chieftain.