GO WEST

Chapter 19: "Please Come to Boston"

"We're running out of time!" Leslie called back into the kitchen. "You got everything, sweetie?"

"Just a second!" her husband called back. In another moment, he emerged, a bottle of champagne in one hand, and six glasses very awkwardly held in the other.

"Chris, you're gonna drop 'em!" Leslie admonished him in a playful tone, taking four of the glasses from his hand. "Come on, we've only got a few minutes 'til they drop the ball."

"Plenty of time," Chris grinned. He then raised his voice to address their guests as they emerged into the living room. "Champagne, anyone?"

The other two couples responded with happy accord, and Chris and Leslie passed out the glasses, first to Ken and his wife Janice, then to Manika and her husband Bill. This was the best part of the evening for all six, the final toasts of the year, in which they congratulated one another on what the year had brought them, and what the new year might have in store. They had been doing this for many years, an extended family among friends, ever since college. However much the world outside changed, this was one thing all six could count on.

Chris got the bottle open at 11:54, and poured quickly, accidentally spilling some on the carpeting as he did ("And guess who gets to clean that up, dear heart?" Leslie teased him), but once the glasses were filled, the toasts began.

"To Manika's gallery show last September!" Chris began, raising his glass to the smaller, bespectacled woman. This was met with a chorus of agreement, and a clinking of glasses.

"And may there be many more," Bill smiled, hugging his wife with his free arm.

"Well, then, to Ken's big promotion!" Manika added, looking (way) up at Ken and raising her own glass.

"Oh, yeah!" Leslie grinned. "Senior Exec VeePee!"

"Senior Exec!" Bill and Chris chorused, clinking their glasses.

"Thanks, guys," Ken smiled, clinking his glass, then exchanging sips with his wife (Janice held her own glass up for him to drink from, and he held his up to her lips to reciprocate).

"That is too disgustingly cute for words," Bill remarked at their display.

"Well, okay, how about to Chris and Leslie," Ken suggested. "Our noble hosts this year, who've just cut a deal with MU Press for their new series!"

"Let's hear it for the funny animal business!" Bill cheered.

"Hear, hear!" Manika giggled. "When's it coming out?"

"That's up to Chris," Leslie snorted. "I've got the scripts done for the first six, but he's a bit behind on the page count."

"It's fine, I draw better under pressure," Chris shrugged, feigning a Joe Cool attitude.

"Two minutes!" Leslie then warned them, looking over at the TV.

"To Bill, then," Janice finally spoke up. "For managing not only to open a third store in the soon-to-be-worldwide chain, but for keeping it open longer than a month this time!"

"Hallelujah!" Bill said with genuine emotion, gratefully clinking his glass with the others. "Good help is so hard to find!"

"And let's not forget Janice, now," Chris went on. "Oh, excuse me, let's not forget... soon to be Doctor Janice."

"Yes, that's right," Ken said in a melodramatic voice. "Not content with a mere Master's degree, she bravely ventures back into the hallowed halls of academia years later, seeking the true prize... the doctorate!"

"Well, don't toast that yet," Janice laughed, though she raised her glasses with everyone else. "Toast it next year, when I'm closer!"

"And we are outta time!" Chris pointed out, indicating the television. In Times Square, the big lighted ball was making its final descent, and the countdown had begun.

"8!" they chanted together. "7! 6! 5! 4! 3! 2! 1! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!"

This was followed by much cheering, more pouring of champagne by Chris, much hugging, and a ragged chorus singing of auld acquaintance, accompanied by Leslie and Manika blowing noisemakers at one another.
 
 

Outside the house, a dark shape was watching them through the open blinds of the living room windows. It sat very still, listening and watching, its only motion being the twitching of its feline whiskers and ears.

At length, having apparently seen what it had come to see, the great cat crept away from the windows, out from behind the hedges, and back out to the sidewalk, making a gradual change as it did, going from walking on all fours to standing upright. When the change was complete, the tall young woman who had, until that moment, been the cat, looked back at the house one last time.

"Happy new year," Catseye said in a quiet, bitter voice.

She wondered why there were no more voices. Ever since harsh-voice had come to where she had been sleeping and bundled her up in the delicious warmth and scent of her blanket, there had not been a voice. There was sound outside the darkness of the blanket, and motion. It was the same dizzying sense of moving and standing still that she had felt that one time before, not long after the dark-time had ended. Only that time, the other voice had been there, too, not just harsh-voice. Not that the other voice sounded right at all, not since the dark-time had ended. In the dark-time, the voice had come from all around her, and now it was just another sound from outside.

The other voice, though, the mother-voice... the scent that went with that voice was not here. There was only harsh-voice's scent, and the funny smells and stale, warm air of the place that moved and stayed still at the same time. Why was only harsh-voice with her in this place this time? And why was harsh-voice not speaking? Sometimes it seemed that harsh-voice had done nothing BUT speak since the light-time began, most often in tones that made her head hurt. Yes, there had been many sounds since the light-time, and they were all different now. And she had heard harsh-voice and the mother-voice quite a lot since the light.

("But she's our daughter!")

("No, she's not! Look at her! She's not even a human being, she's a thing!")

("What the hell are we supposed to do? Tell everyone she's our goddamned pet or something?!)

("But she's ours! We can't just... we can't!")

("That damn thing nearly killed you in that delivery room! Look, I talked to the doctor, and he said he'd keep it quiet. Otherwise, we're gonna have people here day and fucking night, wanting to see the freak, and the freak-breeders!")

("But she... she's our child! Our first child!")

("She's a fucking cat, for Chrissakes!")

The blanket was here now, but still no mother-voice. Had mother-voice spoken so much also that it could make no more sound, like harsh-voice? But more than the sound was gone, still: so was the scent.

She ventured forth a small mew, to see if mother-voice would hear her and speak.

"Ssh!"

No, that was harsh-voice. That one could still make noise after all. That was not good at all. She mewed again, more loudly this time, so that mother-voice would hear her.

Outside the blanket, there was a rush of scent from harsh-voice, and a hand came down and patted her through the bundle of blanket. "Come on, just hush, okay?" harsh-voice said, not sounding quite as harsh this time.

Maybe harsh-voice was looking for mother-voice here, too. Maybe if she did not make a sound, and just listened, as harsh-voice was doing, they would find mother-voice. Thinking that this would be well, she lay snugly in the scented blanket, and eventually dozed.

The next she knew, the sense of motion had stopped, and by the scent, harsh-voice was moving. Then, there was another sense of motion, much more of it this time, as she and her blanket were again picked up and brought out of the funny-smelling air in that place.

The scents here were even funnier, though! Even through the blanket, she could smell things like she'd never smelled before. Where was this place that harsh-voice had taken her? Wherever it was, she was being moved quickly, that was sure!

Before she could wonder any more about this, though, the hand that went with harsh-voice's scent unwrapped her from the blanket, grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, and lifted her up, away from the blanket. She cried out in protest, as it was cold outside the blanket, and she wanted it back, and the way harsh-voice was holding her made her neck hurt.

Then, though, came the most terrifying sense of motion yet, as the hand released her. Every other time she had felt motion, there had been a hand holding her, or a surface beneath her. She had never, ever been dropped before.

The terror was only for an instant, though, and then she landed in something soft, in the midst of smells more heady and powerful than ever. It was dark in this new place, too, and as she opened her eyes, she saw that there was darkness all around her, with only the faintest of lights and scents of air above her. Then something large and black covered up that light as well, and she was all in darkness.

She did not mew, then. She yowled, as loudly as she could. There were many scents here, but none of them were from mother-voice, or from harsh-voice, or from her beloved blanket. Her voice echoed in this tiny space, and it frightened her. Continuing to cry out (where was harsh-voice, and why could she not scent the scent that came with that voice?), she pushed herself along with her tiny legs, eventually bumping into something hard, cold, and unyielding. It was a wall, a cold wall, and it was all around her, to all sides, and even above. She put her paws up on it and scratched at it with her still-soft claws, making as much noise as she could, but the wall did not go away, and no one came to pick her up, or to give her milk, or to wrap her in her blanket, or even to raise a voice at her.

Still, she did not give up, and carried on clawing at the cold wall and crying as loudly as she could. Surely mother-voice would hear her soon. Mother-voice always heard her when she cried.

Mother-voice still did not come, though, and in time, panic and fear gave way to exhaustion. She curled up away from the cold of the wall and rested for a while, still mewing quietly, and at last dozing.

In time, a new sound woke her. No, not quite a new sound. It was almost the same as the sound she had made scraping the wall with her claws. Only this sound seemed to be coming from the outside of the wall.

Then, surprisingly, the smelly ground beneath her, and in fact the walls around her, began to move, tilting one way until she could not be sure where down was anymore. The last movement came with a rush of vertigo, and all of a sudden, one of the walls was now the floor, and the soft stuff that she had been sitting on nearly buried her. She scrambled free and looked about in wonder, to see that the circle of light that had once been above her was back now, only it was to her side. Happily, she crawled toward the light, wanting to get out of this place.

Then, something crept up into the circle of light and looked at her with wide, yellow eyes. It was not like anything she had ever seen! But the scent! It was the closest scent to her own that she had ever smelled! And the creature with the scent had four legs, like she did, and claws, like she had, and whiskers, and a tail, and ears (which it flattened back against its head at the sight of her). It had fur, which neither the hands of harsh-voice or mother-voice had had, but this fur was as black as the inside of that place had been, and sleek and glossy.

She lurched forward, mewling at the other. It crouched back and opened its mouth with a harsh, spitting sound, and she was hit by the powerful aroma of the creature's breath.

Heedless of the warning the other was giving her, she clambered out of the confines of the smelly wall-place, and stood on her four wobbly legs, nose-to-nose with the other. They sniffed at one another for a while, and the other seemed to relax, seeing that she was only new to the light-time, and needed help.

But then another voice came, a voice even harsher than harsh-voice! "Goddammit!! Stay outta my garbage cans, you fucking cat!!"

The sleek black creature bolted away in horror from the source of the voice, a lumbering giant on two legs, and she did her best to follow, but the black-fur was much swifter. She followed black-fur's scent as far as she could, away from the awful voice, but only managed to get even more lost than ever.

She had no idea at all of where she was, now, as there was so much space! All of the dark-time had been spent in a tiny, cozy place, and all of the light-time since had been spent in small places or even wrapped in her blanket (how she missed that blanket!), so this space around her was nothing but terrifying!

And the other harsh-voice! It had said a familiar sound, something the first harsh-voice had said. Both of them had looked at her and said "fucking cat!" Was this what she was called? It was not the name that mother-voice called her, though. Maybe a fucking cat was a thing with fur and whiskers and tail and paws, like black-fur, and like her, too.

Maybe she needed to find another fucking cat.

She had lost black-fur's trail, but by sniffing the air, she caught one scent above all others, not unlike the smell from black-fur's breath. Maybe there were more fucking cats where this smell was.

But it was such a long way, and she only had her weak little legs to carry her. She had never been able to go far on her own legs before, and she was not strong. Still, she had to find someone, either a twoleg or a fucking cat, who could take her to mother-voice.

The ground beneath her changed a few times as she laboriously made her way toward the scent, but was always cold and hard beneath her paws. She was still unsteady, too, and slipped several times, her claws unable to gain purchase. The scent became stronger, though: the smell from black-fur's breath. Something to eat, she hoped, for she was hungry!

Gradually, she made her way onto a surface that was again still and in motion, like the place she had been with harsh-voice before. The smell was stronger here, mixed with another powerful scent -- the same scent that came from the horrible, cold darkness that she sensed was below this lightly moving floor. The floor itself was made of long pieces of the cold hard stuff (she remembered that the place where she had slept in the times after the dark-time had been surrounded by much smaller long pieces of this stuff, and spaced further apart). And to either side of this floor, and through the cracks between each piece, there was only the cold, smelly blackness. It frightened her, but she moved on, toward the smell.

Her search led her to where this stripe-floor met another floor made of the same stuff, but this one led up into the air, with nothing below it but emptiness and then the cold dark stuff. On the other side of this new floor was a great big shape, also made of the hard stuff, and it was held above the cold stuff. It was from this big thing that the smell came, but she would have to go on this scary, thin floor to get there.

Frightened, but lacking an alternative, she scrabbled up onto the thin floor and crept toward the big shape. Below her, she knew that there was only the thin floor between her and the cold, moving darkness, and she hoped and hoped that she would not lose this floor, and fall again.

After an eternity, she had made it to the big shape, though, and she felt better. The scent was very strong now. She followed it around the gently rocking surfaces of the place, and when she listened, she could tell that the floor here had more space beneath it, and that the smell was strongest down there.

It took her a small eternity to find a way through the floor, though, and even then, it was nothing she wanted. The floor had a hole in it at one place, and as she peered down into this hole, she could tell that the space below was even bigger than she had thought! But this was where the smell was!

She peered even further over the edge, but then, to her horror, the floor moved again beneath her, and she lost her balance. The gaping hole beneath her swallowed her up, and again, she fell.

This time, she fell so far, and landed so hard, that it was a while before she could breathe again. And when she did, she hurt. And this place... it was just another dark place! Just another dark place, with no voices, no fucking cats, no anything.

She didn't want to be here anymore. She was cold, she was hurting from where she had fallen, she was exhausted, she was miserable, and she wanted her blanket and some warm milk. There was none here, though.

Shivering with cold and exhaustion, she curled up into a tiny ball on the hard floor and mewled pitifully, wondering where all the voices had gone, and why none of them could hear her.

Dockside district, Boston MA
Monday, 3 January 1994 7:12 am EST

Catseye stepped briskly along the boardwalk that ran perpendicular to the docks, pausing every so often to kneel and scratch the ears of one of the many dockside cats that followed her as she went. At one point, she paused to sniff the morning air. It was a cold day, but clear -- a good day to be sailing.

Moving with the confidence of one with a very definite direction in mind, she passed by ship after ship, until she found the one she was looking for. Stopping for a moment before taking the steps down to the dock, she stood and simply looked at it.

While it was not the largest vessel in the world, it seemed to radiate size and strength, setting it apart from any other pleasure-boat or yacht in the harbor. This was a real ship, a three-masted sailing ship, like the ones that had bravely plied the open seas in ages long past. The ALEXA, it was called, and it was the ship of a pirate, or a wily merchant, or whatever fantasy could be dreamed into it. An honest-to-goodness galleon lost in time.

It looked different now than it had the last time she had set paw upon its decks, though. The ship itself seemed alive, more than ever before, and if not for the name, it would be difficult to recognize it as the ship it had once been.

Smiling widely, she hurried down onto the dock, padded down the length of it, then stepped up onto the narrow gangplank. There were several people at work on deck, mostly toiling away at the complicated rigging, but one, a man in a battered white cap, was the focus of her attention.

"Ahoy!" she called from the top of the gangplank. "'Scuse me!"

The man in the hat, a barrel-chested, bearded fellow, looked around and noticed her standing there. Pausing a moment to see that the crew had everything under control, he stepped across the deck to meet her. "Good morning, miss," he called. "What can I do for you?"

Catseye waited until he was standing before her, then took off her sunglasses, and smiled widely at the man, showing him her fangs.

A look of slow shock spread across his face as he looked into her eyes, and his own eyes widened. "Dear God," he whispered. "Catseye? Is that you?"

"Hello, Doc!" she grinned, following this up with one of her hugs.

In the dark-time, there had been motion like this, and it had been soothing, but this... No, she didn't like it a bit. She raised her tiny voice and yowled, as loudly as she could. Where were the voices? There had to be voices! Voices always came when she cried!

But not this time. Before long, her voice failed her, and she rested her head on the cold, damp floor below. That smell was still everywhere, but there was nothing here but dark. Not the warm, cozy dark of the dark-time, but a cold, empty dark. And she was alone.

In time, she slept again, as anything was better than this darkness. She dozed in and out of consciousness, hearing loud creaking sounds from the floor beneath her, and strange crashing noises from outside. She found this almost soothing, in spite of the circumstances.

Soon, though, she stirred awake at a new sound: another, louder creak, not too far away. A draft of air rushed from the hole to the sky above her, and when she opened her eyes, she saw a small ray of light off in the darkness. And then... could it be? Yes! A voice! No, two voices!

"Are you sure you weren't just imagining it?"

"No, I definitely heard something down here."

"There it is again!"

"Sounded like it came from over there."

"Oh, dear God, look at that!"

"Jesus, Doc, what is it?"

"Hold the light for me!"

"Hello, little one... Are you alright? How in the world did you get down here?"

"Doc, that's the weirdest looking cat I've ever seen..."

"Tony, is there any milk in the galley?"

"I reckon so. Dehydrated, though."

"Wake Rudy up and have him mix some up for me, warm. I'll be in my cabin."

When the milk came, it was not in the usual way, with the big hard tube thing with the funny-smelling tip. Soothing-voice had instead taken a piece of soft cloth, bunched it up into a point, soaked it in the milk (once the milk was brought by the second voice, the thin voice), and held it to her mouth, letting her suckle it. Once she got all the milk from it, the hand would take it away, soak it in the milk again, and give it back to her. It was slow, but she was happy. She was warm again, and she had milk (funny-tasting, but she liked it), and she had two more voices. Thin-voice seemed a bit worried, but soothing-voice was nothing but just that.

"I tell you, Doc, that's no kind of cat like I've ever seen. I don't know if we should keep her here."

"Christ, 'Tonio, she's just a baby."

"It's just as big as any other cat on the docks."

"Yeah, but look at her. She's definitely a kitten."

"If that's a kitten, what the hell kind is it?"

"Dunno. Look at her front paws, though."

"They... holy smokes, they look like... hands!"

"Yeh. Long toes, almost like fingers, and opposable thumbs. See how she grips? And the arms are more like people arms than cat arms."

"What kind of cat has hands, for cryin' out loud?"

"I don't know. But she's here now, and she's hungry."

"Look at her face, 'Tonio."

"She looks like... she's smiling!"

"You ever seen a cat who could smile like that? Yeah, she's unusual, alright."

"Maybe too unusual. Doc, look at her. She's got hands, she can smile... she's purple, to boot. She ain't no kind of cat I've ever heard of, boss."

"Well, what would you suggest?"

"I... don't know. Look, she's obviously some rare breed. Probably a controlled species. You know how people are always bringing weird critters like this into the country illegally, right? Maybe someone was smuggling this weird-lookin' kitten out of Africa or something, then when customs came, they got rid of it: dumped it nearby so they wouldn't get caught with it. We should probably report her to the police."

"The police? For a lost cat?"

"Christ, Doc, it's not like a stray alley-cat. At the very least, we should probably take it to the zoo or something... Someplace they'd know what she is, and what to do with her... how to take care of her."

"Hmmm... Maybe, maybe not. For right now, though, we should keep her here, I think. I think she must've fallen in the hold -- she's still real tender all along this side."

"See? She's smart, too. I don't think we should take her anywhere until she's had a chance to get her strength back."

"Yeah, but what if she is here illegally? Doc, we could catch serious hell for this."

"Well, look, it'll only be for a while. Why don't you go see how things are topside, and I'll finish up down here."

"Sure. Just... think about it, okay?"

"I'm already thinking about it, 'Tonio. Go on, get up there."

Then, the scent came closer, and as she opened her eyes, she got her first look at the face of the scent. It was a face not unlike the face of harsh-voice, or of the giant who had chased her and black-fur, but it was different. For one, it seemed to have fur like her, though only on parts of the face. No whiskers, though, and the eyes were not like those pretty yellow eyes blackfur had. These were soft and round and the same color as the nice-smelling coat she'd been wrapped in. As she looked up at the face, it changed, and she realized it was smiling.

"Poor little thing. I can't believe anyone would have left a pretty thing like you to starve. Don't you worry, though. Doc's gonna take good care of you."

"You've got the most beautiful cat's eyes I've ever seen, little one. Yes, you're one of a kind, alright. What shall we call you, though?"

"Well, hell, that's as good a name as any. I'll call you Cat's Eyes for right now, 'til we come up with something better. Do you like that?"

Merchant Galleon ALEXA, Boston MA
Monday, 3 January 1994 7:23 am EST

After the initial shock of the reunion cleared, Doc proceeded to give Catseye a re-acquaintance tour of the ship, the both of them smiling fit to burst. Along the way, Doc re-introduced her to some of the old crew members who still remembered her, and all of them got huge cat-hugs. Reactions to her presence ranged from amazed to astounded to cheery to befuddled (this from the new additions that had been made since her departure years before).

Doc was so thoroughly stunned by her presence that it took about fifteen minutes of this before he finally looked (way up) at her and shook his head. "You're looking... well, Catseye," he sighed, happily. "Lord, how many years has it been?"

"Little over five," Catseye replied. "Made changes to ship, yes? Cannot smell fish, though. Why not?"

He blinked, then shook his head, seemingly reminding himself that she hadn't been aboard in a long time. "Well, we don't fish anymore. This old girl was never meant for that kind of life anyway. Do you remember how Antonio and I used to talk about getting into tourism?"

"Yes," Catseye nodded, eyes getting a fraction wider. "Finally did it, then?"

"Finally," he smiled. "We give three-day tours, taking a 'crowd o' scurvy landlubbers,'" he said this in a mock-pirate voice that made Catseye giggle, "and give 'em hands-on experience on how to crew one of these old beauties."

Catseye looked around the ship and smiled. "Is good business, then?"

"It's wonderful business," he laughed. "Five parts sailing, two parts teaching, and three parts acting. We're booked up for months, yet, even in the wintertime."

"Is good!" she agreed. Then, her face took on a look of confusion. "But where is 'Tonio? Cannot see him or smell him aboard."

By this time, the two had gone below decks, where the hold had once been. Now, though, most of the space had been taken up by the construction of additional "crew" quarters.

"Oh, Tony's not here anymore," Doc told her. When Catseye gave him a dismayed frown, he went on. "You see, we've been so successful that we've added a second ship to the fleet." He grinned widely. "Tony captains the other. Ours is the merchant ship, and his is the pirate ship. During the third day of every tour, he brings his ship upon us, and we give the folks a show like they'll never forget! Cannons blasting... no cannonballs, of course... swinging from the riggings, throwing the hooks on us, swordfights on the deck..." He got a faraway smile, and brought back his sailor voice. "We gives 'em battle, me mateys an' me, and drives the scurvy lot back a'where they came!"

Catseye's frown slowly turned into her characteristic huge grin as he explained. "Doc and 'Tonio playing pirate," she giggled. "Is good life, yes?"

"It's a dream come true, Catseye," he sighed.

Their last stop was the captain's cabin. Of all the ship, this had changed the least in Catseye's absence. Same old battered wooden wardrobe, same art-table at which he did his navigational maps, same huge hammock which he had steadfastly chosen over other, more conventional forms of bedding, same old...

Catseye approached the opposite wall carefully, and knelt next to an old wicker basket, the type used by well-to-do large dogs all across the country, and placed her long-nailed hand on the threadbare cushion.

"No scent," she whispered.

"Well, you... haven't... used it in a long time," Doc said, a bit hesitantly.

She looked back at him. "Why kept it all this time?"

He shrugged, looking suddenly uncomfortable under her scrutiny. "I... honestly couldn't bear to just throw it away. After all those years you were here... you're as much a part of this ship now as me, or 'Tonio, or Rudy, or any of the others. It just didn't seem right. I... always had a feeling you'd come back..."

"Doc," she sighed, giving him a wry smile, "Catseye cannot stay here."

"I know," he nodded, quickly. "You look... all grown up now. And... grown up very tall, I might add."

At this, her grin returned. "Oh, is all in the legs, Doc," she laughed. "Yes, Catseye all grown up, and has new home, and is in school, and is happy. Catseye misses Alexa and Doc, though. Had to come back to see you this year."

"I'm glad," he whispered. Then, he blinked a couple of times and tried to get his voice back. "Er- how long are you going to be in town?"

"Don't know," she frowned. "No real plans."

"Really? You see, we're heading out today for one of our little excursions. We'll have to be leaving in an hour or two, but I'd like to see you again once we get back."

She cocked her head at him sideways. "Can Catseye come with? Would be wonderful to sail with Doc like old time, and fight Pirate 'Tonio, too!" The more she said, the more excited about the idea she seemed to get.

Doc looked a little bit surprised at this. "You... you would? Oh, that'd be marvelous, but... we'll be out for three days, Catseye. It's a long time to be out on the spur of the moment."

"Ah, is no trouble," she grinned, waving off his concern. "As said, no real plans. Catseye has time to sail with Doc again. Come, let Catseye go with and play pirate too. Will be muchfun, yes?"

He nodded, slowly at first, then more vigorously. "Yes, yes it would. Come on, we'll see if we can scrounge you up a costume from the prop box."

The soothing-voiced one who took care of her the most was called Doc, and he was also called Captain, because this big moving wooden place was his. She liked him the most of all -- there had been many who had come to see her those first few days, most of whom smiled at her and petted her and called her things like Kitty and Pusspusspuss and Pretty Cat (which sounded a lot nicer than fucking cat), but none of them were quite as warm as Doc. Doc was also the one who brought her milk most of the time, endearing him to her all the more.

Thin-voice was called a number of things, but most often Tony or Antonio or 'Tonio. He was Doc's friend and First Mate, whatever that was, and he would also bring her milk sometimes when Doc was busy. She liked him, but there was something funny about the way he talked to her, or talked to others about her. She sensed something from him that she didn't feel from any of the others -- a sense of unease. From time to time he would talk to Doc in a worried tone, apparently about her, and as she began to figure out words, she got the impression that 'Tonio thought she was strange, and worried that there would be trouble if they kept her here. But she knew that there was no trouble. She missed mother-voice, but this place was so much nicer, especially with all the funny smells and people saying nice things to her.

She stayed the whole of the first few weeks in Doc's cabin, where she slept in a wicker basket with a soft cushion and a blanket -- a nice soft one like her old one, but with different smells to it. She had milk for the first weeks, then, as she got bigger, they started giving her soft food that smelled and tasted positively wonderful, and made her purr.

As she grew, and got stronger, she began, as was natural, to explore this place. Outside of Doc's cabin she went, fearfully at first, but with an innate curiosity that would not be denied. It was during one of these trips that she wandered into the galley, a collection of the most intense smells of all. Rudy was here, busily working away. She liked Rudy -- he was a loud-voiced, friendly fellow who always had traces of these intoxicating smells upon him when he would come to pet her. After a while, in which she watched his industrious labor from below, he looked down and noticed her there.

"'Allo, Catseyes," he grinned at her. "An' what're you up to, hm?"

She turned her head to one side and blinked at him.

"You hungry, puss?" he asked, then, giving her first a concerned look, then a smile. "Oh, I know just the thing."

He gathered up a few handsful of something, put it on a plate, then put it on the floor off to one side, giving her a little nudge toward it to indicate that it was hers.

It was here that she had her first exposure to raw fish guts, and it was love at first taste. She was hooked. This became a staple of her diet, and she made many more of these visits to see Rudy in the galley. Eventually, other fish parts went into the mix as well, and she accepted these wholeheartedly. Doc was a little concerned at first, but she had no ill effects from this diet, and it made her grow healthy and strong, and made her fur nice and glossy.

The rate of her growth and her steadily increasing size were something else that caused 'Tonio to worry, as this made it clear that she was very unusual compared to other cats. But once again, he was only one voice of concern among the people who lived here in the wood place, most of whom said that it was great having a nice big cat around the ship, and that every ship should have one. Doc had to get her a bigger basket every so often, but that was fine, as it did not take long to get her scent on the new one.

Her explorations continued and got to be more wide-ranging, especially now that doors were not a problem (she'd figured out the concept of latches and handles pretty early on, but had not been able to reach them for the first few months). Soon, all of the wood place was her domain, and she could (and did) go where she wanted.

There was another place, though, that the others all went, that was up above them, above the wood. She imagined that this was the cold place she had been alone before Doc had found her, and she wanted nothing to do with it. There were holes in the Big Fish Room (the hold, as Doc called it) that led up to this big place, and sometimes light came from there, and sometimes dark came from up there. Sometimes fish came from up there, too, for that matter. It was strange, and rather frightening.

Eventually, though, curiosity had to win out, and one day, when no one much was about down below, she followed the scents up a set of steps and to a hatch. She fumbled with the latch here, and gave an experimental push up on the top of her world. And it opened.

When she cautiously poked out, she found herself once again in a place that was unspeakably huge. No comforting wood above her, only bright faraway blueness and a light so bright she could not look at it. The air here moved, and moved quickly, ruffling her fur. The smell of salt was strong, and she could hear the shouting voices of Doc and others over the everpresent (but now louder) crashing sound of the outside, the huge ruffling sounds of fabric, and the creaking of the wooden world around her. Above, huge towers of wood rose up into the blueness: crisscrossing round wood pieces that had gigantic moving white blankets attached to them. The blankets looked alive, and looked like they were trying to get free, but Doc's men were up in the wood towers and below on the floor, using long ropes and such to keep them from flying away. Men climbed around on the towers, using hard ladders, soft ladders, ropes, or pieces of metal set into the towers themselves. One of the men was even up in what looked like a huge cup up at the top of one of the towers.

Trying not to panic, she looked for Doc, and found him standing not too far off, on a raised part of the floor, holding onto a big, round wooden thing with many handles coming out of it. At about the same moment that she noticed him there, he looked over and saw her, too.

"Cat's Eyes!" he called, smiling. He then called off in another direction. "Hey, Tony, come and take the wheel for a minute!"

From elsewhere on the moving floor (near one of the towers), 'Tonio came and took hold of the wheel, leaving Doc to come over to the hatch to see her. He crouched down a ways off and held one hand out to her. "Come on, Cat's Eyes," he called. "Don't be afraid, it's okay."

It took her a while to move, but at length, she took a few hesitant steps out, until she was close enough for Doc to reach out and pet her reassuringly. "There, see? It's not so bad, is it?"

And somehow, with Doc there, it wasn't.

She was a trifle large, by now, for him to be carrying around, so she just followed along close beside him as he went around the floor, pointing things out to her. The first was the big thing 'Tonio was now holding. "This is the wheel," he told her. "We turn it to point the ship where we want to go."

"You're talking to the cat, boss," 'Tonio pointed out.

"Yeah, I know," Doc chuckled. "But you know what? She's the smartest cat I've ever seen. I wouldn't be surprised if she understands every word we're saying."

She smiled at this. She still didn't understand everything, but she knew enough to know that she'd been paid a compliment.

'Tonio's eyes went a little wider at her smile. "Come to think of it, Doc, neither would I," he said in his thin, quiet voice.

They moved on to the big towers and the blankets. A couple of the other men noticed her there (they looked very busy, but were able to look away for a moment or two), and commented on her presence. "Hey, the ship cat comes topside!" one of them (a dark-colored man named Matt) called out from up on the tower, giving her a wave.

"These are the masts," Doc explained to her, patting the bottom of the tower. "And those big white things stuck to the masts are the sails. The wind blows into the sails, and the sails pull on the masts, and that makes the whole ship move. The crew works up there to man the sails and make sure we're catching good wind."

She watched Doc's men up in the sails, mesmerised by what they were doing. Doc moved on after a while, though, so she followed. He took her to the very edge of the floor, past several holes (she knew these now to be the place where the light and dark and fish came from, and also the place where she had fallen into the Big Fish Room as a kitten), and to a pointed place where the wind was very strong. It looked like the edge of the world, and it had a short wall and railing around it.

Doc leaned on the railing and looked out into the wind. Not sure what he was showing her now, she put her paws up on the rail and looked over the edge.

And felt the fur on her back begin to rise with sheer horror. This was the moving blackness that she had seen when she was a lonely kitten. This place had haunted her sleep-sights all her life. It did not look as dark now, but it was still moving, and she could still sense that it was endless. If she fell in, she would be swallowed up by the dark, and never be found.

"This is the sea, Cat's Eyes," Doc told her, in a voice that surprised her with its tone. He sounded just as soothing as ever, but more, he sounded as though he were telling her something very, very important.

"The sea is where all the fish come from," he went on. "There're people who say that all life came from the sea way back when, and I like to think they're right. And we sailors, like me and Tony and all the others, we come back to the sea to live. We come out here to catch fish, so that people back on land can have food. And so that silly cats can, too." He said this part with a smile and a reassuring stroke of her chin. "So the sea still brings us life, even now."

The sea. Now this horrible darkness had a name. Even though Doc spoke of it with such nice words, she was still afraid, and knew that she would never, ever let herself leave the ship.

As she grew older, she ventured topside more and more often, studying the actions of Doc and the other crewmen. The more she did this, the less she feared the openness of it all: topside was just another part of her domain now, and she would not fear it. The cold darkness was always there at the edges of her world, even when they went to Port, but she reasoned that the better she understood things up top, the better she'd be able to deal with its presence around her.

So in the weeks that followed, she watched and learned. In time, much to the shock of Doc, 'Tonio and the others, she started trying to work the rigging. The first time she did so, she simply climbed up the center mast to where Matt was, and politely took the ropes from his hands. His amazement at her actions had been echoed by the entire crew.

It also led to more worried talks, and not just from 'Tonio, either. From what she gathered, cats simply could not do this sort of thing. But she could, obviously enough. 'Tonio even said once that as fond as he was of her, maybe it was time to take her someplace where they knew how to take care of something unusual like her.

Doc's answer to this had been that here, on the ALEXA, she was with people who knew how to take care of her. And for the most part, the crew agreed. By then, she had endeared herself so thoroughly to them that they couldn't bear the thought of sending her away.

Rather than this, then, they not only accepted her curiosity, but encouraged it as well. Matt taught her more of the details of working the sails, and she got to be pretty good at it pretty quickly. After all, she could get to places that most of the others couldn't. She was a more swift and graceful climber than any of them, and even if she had trouble sometimes doing some of the things that they could do, given her different shape, she managed just fine.

And so as the weeks stretched into months, and the months carried on into years, she became more than just the ship's cat, or the ship's mascot. She became part of the crew, as valued as any, and well-loved by all. And she was also their secret, as Doc would tell her that if people in the world found out about her, they would probably want to take her away someplace and put her in a cage, or worse.

Even as she grew and learned, her name also went through changes. The name Cat's Eyes stuck around for a while, as this was the name Doc had given her, but more often than not, it was blended into one single sound, making it Catseyes (a few of them even started calling her Capsize for a little while, but she didn't really get the implied joke). After a time, though, this name was shortened further, and she became simply Catseye.

It wasn't until one day during her third year, though, that she really got an idea of what that meant. She had been napping in her basket in Doc's cabin, and awakened to find Doc standing in front of one of the open doors of his wardrobe, smoothing his appearance. She hopped up out of the basket and padded over to him, purring.

"Hello, Catseye," he smiled down at her, reaching down to scratch her behind the ears. He didn't have to reach far, anymore. She nuzzled his hand and went on purring.

Then, she opened her eyes and looked over at the inside of the wardrobe door, which Doc had been watching so carefully.

There was a cat there!

She went completely rigid, except for her ears, which flattened against her skull. To her surprise, the cat did exactly the same.

Doc chuckled, and as she looked up, she saw him standing behind the cat! But when she looked back, he was standing there, too!

As though sensing her shock, Doc knelt down beside her and put his arm across her shoulders reassuringly. He then pointed to the cat, and the other Doc pointed to her.

"That's you," he said, simply. "That's Catseye."

She didn't understand what he meant, but then he smiled, took his hat off, and put it on her head. At the very same time, the other Doc did the same to the cat.

It was then that she realized that she was seeing herself, but from the outside, as someone else would. She had always known that she was not like the others (she had fur and a tail, for example), but she had never come face to face, as it were, with just how unlike them she was.

She tilted her head to one side, and regarded herself out from under Doc's cap. 'Tonio was right. She certainly was different...

Doc scratched her under the chin. "Take a good look, Catseye. You're looking at the prettiest cat in all the world, you know that?"

Merchant Galleon ALEXA, Boston, MA
Monday, 3 January 1994 8:03 am EST

Catseye stood in front of the mirror, studying herself out from under the wide brim of her hat. It was a big hat, sure enough, with a huge plume of a feather in it, and it complemented the swashbuckling look of the rest of her outfit. Given her height, there hadn't been much choice, but she and Doc had managed to find a good pair of black leggings, with a long, loose-sleeved shirt hanging down to about mid-thigh, tied around her waist with a sash. She had to keep her tail stuffed under the shirt, but it was a passable disguise to be sure.

"You look dashing, if that's any help," Doc offered from behind her.

She grinned back at him. "All blacks and whites. Looks good, yes?"

"Definitely. So, do you want a sword? I don't suppose you've learned any fencing where you're going to school?"

"Oh, little bit," she nodded. "Learned from good friend. Not real swords, though, right?"

"No, not real as such," Doc explained, digging through another prop box and pulling out a sheathed cutlass and belt. "No edges on them, and we certainly don't strike any real blows. It's all staged, after all. We just need to be careful on the disarms not to knock anyone's swords over the edge." He smiled at this thought. "That's probably one of our biggest nuisance expenses: replacing lost swords."

Catseye accepted the blade and belted it on. She then turned to look at herself in the mirror again. "Is very good," she nodded. "Catseye ready to play pirate with 'lubbers now."

"Good," Doc nodded, pulling a pocketwatch from his vest and checking the time. "The folks should be all aboard soon, and once they are, I get called up on deck by Nate; he's the first mate now."

"Is good," Catseye nodded. "Where should Catseye be?"

"Oh! Well, you can just come up on deck with me and look good and menacing. They love a good show, these people."

As if on cue, they heard the sound of the top hatch opening, and a voice shouted down into the body of the ship. "Captain, ye're needed on the deck!"

"Aye," he called back in his pirate voice. He then winked at Catseye. "Ahr, me lass, shall we give this scurvy lot a show?"

"Aye aye, Cap'n Doc," she giggled in reply.

Doc led the way up through the hatch, and onto the raised "bridge" of the ALEXA. Catseye followed, hands clasped behind her back, a scowl forming across her sharp-featured face.

"Captain on the bridge!" Nate announced as they stepped up.

Some twenty to thirty "civilians" were gathered on the center deck, cameras, travel-bags and other accessories scattered amongst them. One or two were even now zooming in on Doc with camcorders.

Upon stepping out, an immediate change had come over Doc, his soft, careworn face suddenly becoming filled with disapproval and menace. He came down from the bridge and walked up and down before the assembled ranks of tourists, staring them down, each one in turn.

At the end of his circuit, he gave them a collective grimace. "Ahr, in all me days sailin' the seven seas, I think I've ne'er seen such a green, scurvy lot o' landlubbers. This ain't no pleasure cruise, me hearties! There be work t'be done on the open sea, an' the lads an' lass an' I are a'gonna show ye how 'tis done! Right now, ye may not know a jib from a mainmast, or yer port from yer starboard, but by the end of this 'ere voyage, we'll make true sailors of ye! Be ready t'learn, be ready t'listen t'yer crew, and be ready t'sweat, 'cause we've work aplenty ahead of us!"

He paused for a moment in his speech, but continued pacing before the new crew. "There'll na' be time for lollygaggin', mateys! We'll be pullin' inta our first port by dark tonight, an' daylight's a'wastin'! So get yer gear stowed below -- the lads'll show ye where ye'll be bunkin' -- an' then come above decks ready t'set sail! Dismissed!"

Immediately, Nate and the other sailors descended on the crowd, calling out orders and escorting them below decks. Doc turned his back on the lot, and headed back up to the bridge. "Lieutenant!" he called.

There was no reply, so Doc stepped up beside Catseye. "That's you," he whispered.

"Oh," she whispered back, then raised her voice. "Aye, Cap'n?"

"How would ye like t'run the foremast team f'r the first shift?"

She gave him a befanged smile. "Love to, Cap'n!"

"Then hop to it, lass! Time's a'wastin'!" His words were stern, but he gave her a broad wink to go with them.

Catseye raised her hand to the tip of her hat in a salute. "Will have 'em whipped to shape in no time flat, Cap'n."

"Aye, tha's what I like t'hear," he grinned, saluting back. "Be off with ye, then!"

With a last nod, she stepped down from the rear castle, dashed across the deck to the front mast, and quickly ascended, climbing up almost as swiftly as she had run across.

While waiting for the rest of the crew to arrive, she made her way all the way to the very top of the mast, and looked back at Boston, grinning as the wind blew through her mane, nearly taking her hat with it.

None of them had expected the incoming storm to be so swift and furious. Doc had known that hard winds and rain would be coming, but he and all the others had been confident they could race the storm back to port before the worst of it. This error in judgment was turning out to be a costly one -- they had no choice but to trim sails until the masts were bare and ride the winds out below decks.

Catseye was at the very top of the foremast, clinging to it with her rear legs and claws while her front paws furiously scrabbled at knot after knot, trying to get the rigging torn down as quickly as possible. 'Tonio was working below her, while Matt, Chet and Doc were just finishing up the mainmast behind them. Thankfully, they'd been able to trim the mizzenmast before the storm had actually hit, else they'd be struggling through that one in the rain, too.

And the sea... the cold darkness of the sea was violently tossing them back and forth, and from her place at the very top of the mast, she swung crazily left and right. The deck was rolling so much side to side that she found herself looking down at the black abyss with each swing back and forth.

She had just finished up when she heard the scream.

Looking down at the source of the sound, she was horrified to see that 'Tonio was no longer below her. The voice had been his! Where had he gone?

It was then that she heard the next scream, this one from Matt: "MAN OVERBOARD!!"

Catseye hung onto the mast for dear life as she looked down into the blackness, wide-eyed. Doc, Matt, Chet and several others immediately rushed to the railings at either side of the deck, shouting back and forth.

"Tony!!" This was Doc, leaning out over the railing and searching the dark sea below for his first mate. "Dammit, someone get some light!"

"Where is he?!" Matt this time, yelling to be heard over the wind.

"Throw out a line!"

"Throw it where?!"

They couldn't see him in the darkness below, nor hear his cries for help over the noise of the storm and the racket they were making.

But Catseye could. Her eyes had aided the ship in darkness before, and they were not failing her now. Way down, below the rocking deck, she saw 'Tonio, flailing in the water, trying to keep himself up, but being slapped down again and again by the waves. He tried to yell but, each cry was literally drowned out as the sea pulled him down again.

Catseye stared, eyes wide and unblinking. She had always been afraid that this would happen to her -- that she would fall into that awful darkness of the sea, and that it would swallow her. She'd hated and feared the sea all her years, even as she'd learned to live and work above it.

And now the horrible blackness had 'Tonio.

Slowly and carefully, not really thinking about what she was doing, Catseye climbed down along the mast, her claws digging into the wood. 'Tonio was being dragged further and further away, and there was nothing anyone on the deck could do -- they still couldn't see him, and no one had yet gone to fetch the big light.

There wasn't time to wait for the light. There wasn't time for anyone below to do anything. And 'Tonio was going under.

She leaped.

There was just enough time to hear Doc and Matt shout her name in unison before the blackness came up to meet her, and she went under.

It was cold, it was wet, and it was soaking her, but her fur had been soaked through already by the rain, so this was not the worst of it. The water pressed against her closed eyes, filled her ears, her nose... and worst of all, she couldn't breathe.

Forcing back terror more intense than she had known since she had been a helpless kitten on the Boston docks, she struggled to bring herself up above the water, taking a deep breath as she did. Even with her ears full of water, she heard 'Tonio yelling and splashing. Not too far away now.

Clawing at the water with powerful strokes of her arms and legs, she dragged herself closer to his voice. Every time she got her head up above the surface, she opened her eyes to look for him, fighting her way onward.

After a small eternity of struggle, she found him, just as a wave pushed them both under. In the darkness below the water, she felt her head butt up against his jacket, so she grabbed it in her teeth and pulled up with all her strength. Both of their heads broke the surface, then, and she got both of her front legs wrapped around him to hold him up.

'Tonio was both stiff and shivering with cold and shock, and was barely able to keep moving. It was taking all of her strength just to keep him up. This wouldn't get them anywhere.

She managed to turn herself around, reach back to grab both of his arms, and draw them in tight around her ribcage, so that he lay across her back, and she had all four arms free again. Even with no strength to move, 'Tonio had more than enough strength to hang on.

Trying to hold the both of them up now, she started fighting her way back to the ALEXA, pushing herself up and forward with each stroke, taking a breath each time she pushed them up over the surface.

And for the longest time, that was all there was, only the motion of up and out of the water, breathe, then back under, then again. Her legs were getting stiff from the frigid water, and each breath hurt more and more -- 'Tonio was holding her too tightly. Better that than to lose him, though.

Finally, she got them back to the ALEXA, but it was far from over. She tried to raise her voice to the crew above, but still, they could not hear.

It was up to her, then.

She gripped 'Tonio's hands, which were clasped over her chest, hoping that he would continue to hold on. She then took her front paws and dug into the hull of the ship for all she was worth.

Her claws found purchase in the hard wood, and she pulled the two of them up a couple of feet. Bracing herself with her rear claws, then, she reached further up, sank her claws into the wood, and pulled. Before long, she had them both up and out of the water.

That was where things got worse, though. Catseye could climb alone with no trouble, but with 'Tonio's weight, not to mention that the both of them were about twice as heavy with wet fur and clothes, she was barely able to inch along. Her muscles, already strained from her frigid swim, screamed with agony, but she kept pulling.

'Tonio was shivering violently against her, though, and before they even made it halfway up the hull, he began to lose his grip and slip back. Catseye had to reach back with one arm and grab him in order to keep him from falling. But with the one arm supporting him, she couldn't climb, and it was only a matter of time before her remaining claws lost purchase.

Then, she saw a bright light from above. Doc had finally gotten hold of the heavy-duty spotlighter from the tool box, and was shining it out over the water, looking for them. He was so busy scanning the water that no one noticed they were hanging just below.

She yowled then: yowled to wake the dead. She raised her voice as loudly as she possibly could, just as she had as a kitten in the hold, willing Doc to hear her.

Apparently he did, as immediately, the light shone down on them from above. "Jesus God almighty!" Doc shouted. "Matt! Get that line over here, now!!"

Matt's dark face immediately appeared over the railing, and he began lowering a rope to her, while Doc called out encouragements. "Hold on, Catseye, hold on! Wait until we get the rope braced, then when I give the word, grab it! Do you hear me, Catseye?!"

She nodded to show him that she understood. Soon the rope hung at her side, and she heard Doc calling orders out above. "Hold it steady, Matt! Chet, Burke, Stevie, give us a hand with this! When I give the word, Catseye grabs hold and we pull with all we've got, okay? On three! One! Two! three!!"

Catseye let go of the hull with her remaining front claws, then, and grabbed hold of the rope. At the same time, the crew started pulling them up. Holding onto 'Tonio with one hand, and to the rope with the other, she let herself be pulled up, walking up the side of the ship with her back legs to keep them steady.

Once they got up to the railing, Matt reached out one hand to her. "Come on, Catseye! Grab hold, girl!"

She let go of the rope and grabbed onto Matt's forearm in one quick motion, her claws digging into his jacket almost deep enough to pierce the skin beneath. With him bracing her, she literally heaved 'Tonio up onto the railing, where Doc and Chet grabbed hold of him and pulled him to the deck. Then, with Matt's help, she got herself over the railing and let herself just collapse, shivering and exhausted, onto the deck.

Things got fuzzy then. She was vaguely aware of the shouting voices, of being carried down below decks by Matt and Burke, then down into Doc's cabin. Someone brought an armload of dry towels, and Matt started trying to dry her sopping fur, even as several others were helping 'Tonio out of his wet, freezing clothes.

"Someone get me some blankets!" Doc's voice, sounding above all the others, like always. "Rudy! I need some the hottest soup you've got, pronto!"

"Aye aye, Doc," came a pair of voices on the fringes of hearing. The water in her ears made it difficult to hear any more than that.

Before long, though, blankets arrived, and she was wrapped up, only her head and neck sticking out of the coarse wool. Soup was brought in a few minutes, which smelled nice, but when some was offered her, it scalded her tongue, and she refused more. She needed sleep more than she needed soup anyway.

Doc then cleared most everybody out, leaving only himself and Matt to look after the rescued and the rescuer.

'Tonio was sipping at the soup, wrapped up in a blanket like Catseye's, his teeth still chattering.

"Sh-she s-s-saved me, d-didn't sh-she, Doc?" 'Tonio managed

"She sure did, Tony," Doc replied softly.

'Tonio reached over to her with one trembling hand, laid it on the back of her neck, and clasped his fingers through her damp mane. "Thank you," he whispered to her.

Matt patted her through the blanket, a good, solid pat above the ribs. "That's a good girl, Catseye," he said in a quiet voice, as though he still couldn't believe what had happened. "Good girl."

His voice was the last she heard before exhaustion claimed her, and she gratefully lost consciousness.

Merchant Galleon ALEXA
Wednesday, 5 January 1994 2:12 pm EST

Catseye was awakened from her nap between sail-shifts by the sound of the big bell being rung up top. She was fully awake in an instant, throwing off the blanket she'd wrapped up in and racing out of Doc's cabin.

"Pirates ho!!" came several shouted voices from above. "Pirates to starboard!!"

Several members of the crew joined her in her dash up the steps to the main hatch, as did a few confused passengers, and when they came out onto deck, all was abuzz with activity.

"All hands on deck!" Doc called from the bridge, never taking his hands from the wheel. "Look alive, you lot, or we'll all be sharkbait in an hour!!"

"Is trouble, Cap'n?" Catseye asked, stepping up beside the wheel.

Doc pointed off to their right, where another, smaller ship was approaching. "That's Antonio's ship," he said, sotto voce. "Theirs is a good clip quicker than the ALEXA, so they'll be on us soon." He then raised his voice to shout to the deck-hands. "Weapons crew, man the cannons! As for the rest of ye, I need ye all on the sails! Lieutenant Cat's Eyes, take the mainmast!"

"Aye aye!" she grinned, giving him a salute. Leaping gracefully from the bridge to the main deck, she scampered over to the center mast, taking over for Nate, who was moving off to lead the weapons crew in prepping the three starboard cannons. Catseye climbed about halfway up the mast, taking the crew leader's position, and started giving out orders to old and temporary crew alike. The new additions to the crew seemed to be doing well, considering that this was only their third day at sea, and Catseye had no trouble getting them to work together.

"Crow's nest, report!" Doc called out. "Can ye identify the ship?"

The man up in the crow's nest (Jason, a new addition made after Catseye's departure) studied the incoming ship through his spyglass for a while, then called back down. "It be the flagship of the Dread Pirate Moretti, Captain!!"

"Do we fight 'em, Captain?" Nate called from the cannon banks.

Doc paused before he answered. "Now hear this!" he announced. "The pirates are comin' fast upon us, mateys, an' the Dread Pirate Moretti doesn't believe in takin' prisoners! If we surrender, he'll throw us to the sharks, so I says, no surrender! We fight!!"

A cheer rose from the deck, and even the paid customers found themselves echoing the sentiment. Nate and his weapons crew finished prepping the cannons, then Nate saluted Doc. "All weapons ready to fire, Captain!"

"Aye!" Doc called back. "Let's bring 'er around and give 'em a broadside! Sail teams! Hard to starboard!"

"Hard to starboard!" Catseye repeated to her own crew, as the other sail team leaders echoed Doc's order as well.

"All hands brace for hard to starboard!" Doc called, then spun the wheel several turns to the right.

The ALEXA tipped slightly to the side as they went through the turn, and the approaching pirate ship went from beside them to somewhere off the starboard bow. The sail teams manipulated the sails to compensate for the change in direction, and the ALEXA charged the other vessel.

"They be comin' alongside us, Captain!" Nate called from the cannons.

Catseye cast a glance down from her place in the sails to look at the other ship as it passed beside them. It was a smaller craft, with only two masts, and it was flying a genuine skull-and-crossbones pirate flag. She could see several men on deck clad like the pirates they claimed to be, and a crew of customers gathered around the sails and upon the deck.

"FIRE!!" Doc shouted as the pirate ship passed alongside them.

Nate and the weapons crew went to work, and soon all three cannons were sounding, kicking backwards a few feet across the deck as they roared out their smoke and noise. The pirate ship returned fire, and soon, the two ships had passed beyond firing range.

"Damage report!" Doc called.

"We took a couple'a hits, Captain!" Nate called, leaning over the railing to look at the side of the ship. "Damage all minimal!"

"Good!" Doc nodded. "Alright, let's give 'em another run! Sail teams! Hard to starboard! Bring us around!"

"You heard the man!" Catseye relayed to her crew. "Coming around!"

"All hands prepare for hard to starboard!" Doc ordered, before giving the wheel another few spins to the right.

This time, the sail teams flubbed a little, which was understandable, given both their inexperience and the fact that this was a high-pressure situation: it felt entirely real, in spite of the fact that everyone knew it was just part of the act, and part of the experience. Still, the center mast's rigging was fouled, and Catseye had to climb out a ways on the netting to set things right.

The pirate ship, too, was making a hard turn, and before long, the two vessels crossed paths again. The cannons fired on both sides, and then they sped apart.

This time, though, Nate's damage report was a bit foreboding. "The hull's holed, Captain! We'll be takin' on water soon!"

"Aye!" Doc called back, letting a nervous catch creep into his voice. "Sail teams, we'll be takin' 'er full sail! We'll make a run for it!"

Soon Doc had them steered so that the wind was at their backs. "Full sail!" he called.

Doc did not get what he asked for, though. "Aft sails're fouled, Cap'n!" called the mizzenmast leader.

"Fore sails're fouled as well, Captain!" came a cry from the front.

"Get 'em clear, then!" Doc ordered. "Mainmast, what's yer status?!"

"All clear, Cap'n!" Catseye called back.

"Give us everythin' ye got, Cat's Eyes!"

"The pirates be circlin' around to close, Captain!" came the report from Jason in the crow's nest. "They be gainin' on us!"

"They'll be comin' up alongside t'board!" Nate added.

Doc considered these reports for a while, then barked out his orders. "Trim sails! All new crew, get yer backs to the port rail! The rest of ye, stand by to repel boarders!!"

"Aye aye!" Catseye called, relaying the order to her sail crew. The experienced ALEXA sailors got to work bringing down the sails, while the temporary crew did as the Captain ordered and gathered by the port railing, out of the way. Once Catseye was done up on the mast, she climbed down and helped shoo the new sailors to the railing.

And then the pirate ship pulled in alongside them to starboard, the pirates jeering at them across the ever-shortening space. Grappling lines were tossed onto the ALEXA, and the pirates pulled themselves in closer, until with the gentlest of bumps, the two ships butted up against one another.

Doc, by this time, had tied the wheel in place, and now came down from the bridge, sword drawn. "Give 'em hell, mateys!!"

What followed was a fight scene straight out of an Errol Flynn movie, with no theatrics spared. As advertised, pirates came aboard by swinging from the riggings, by leaping across the decks, and soon pirates and merchants were picking partners and fighting with cutlasses. The sound of metal on metal rung from all ends of the deck, and on the ALEXA and the pirate ship alike, the paying customers watched, agog, some furiously snapping photos while others tried to capture the whole scene with camcorders.

Once Catseye was done getting everyone out of the way, she looked to the fight, seeking out one person in particular. Soon, she found him, and with a grin, she drew her sword and charged.

Matt was looking quite the pirate, the bright red bandanna and gold loop-earring he wore both contrasting with his dark skin. She saw him disarm one ALEXA sailor, but before he could close in any further, she leaped before him, sword pointed to his chest.

They fought in earnest. Matt was obviously the more experienced of the two, but Catseye was quicker by far, able to parry each of his blows even as she made a few swipes of her own. They fought to an even stalemate for all of about eleven seconds, then Catseye locked hilts with him, leaped forward, and tackled the man to the deck.

Once she had him pinned, she brought her face right up to his and grinned at him. "Hello, Matt!" she giggled, then licked his face.

Matt's eyes bugged. "Catseye?!" he nearly choked.

"Ssh!" she warned. "Don't tell. Catseye go find 'Tonio now, yes?"

Pausing only a moment to knock Matt's sword away across the deck, she sprang to her feet and dove into the melee, looking for the enemy captain.

She found him in the very center of the combat, his sword locked with Doc's. Their fight was the most spectacular of all, both men moving with a grace that belied their age, true masters of the art hard at work.

The tide was turning for the ALEXA crew, as more and more of the pirates were disarmed. So, then, was Antonio himself, his sword twisted out of his grasp. Catseye leaped and caught it by the hilt in midair, then moved to Doc's side, a cutlass in each hand, grinning at the "pirate."

"Better take your crew and be off, Dread Pirate Moretti," she told him, waving the swords to emphasize her point.

"I'd be doin' as the good lady Cat's Eyes says, ye scurvy dog!" Doc scowled.

For a moment, Antonio's eyes went wide, and he nearly fell all the way out of character as he got a good look at Catseye. He managed to let only a small smile escape before he was back in his role. "Ahr, lads, we be outnumbered! Back to the ship!!"

The pirates quickly echoed their captain's order and swarmed back to their ship, chased to the railing by the ALEXA crew, who shouted taunts and jeers to the pirates' backs as they fled. Soon, the enemy ship disengaged their grappling lines and cast off, veering away from the ALEXA as fast as they could manage.

A cheer went up from the deck of the ALEXA, as Doc and Catseye raised their blades in triumph. "Victory is ours, mateys!" Doc bellowed. "We'll be returnin' to our home port with our skins an' our cargo intact! Ye've done yer captain proud, me friends!"

"Victory!" Nate echoed, and the whole crew joined the cheer.
 
 

They pulled back into Boston that evening, the long voyage coming to an end at last. Doc gave this week's crew one last speech, as gruff as before, but more admiringly so, complimenting them on their fine work. He ended the address with "Ye came here as landlubbers, and ye're leavin' as sailors. 'Tis been a pleasure to have ye as part of me crew. Dismissed."

The real crew stayed on the ship for a while to do some post-voyage maintenance, and by about nine o'clock, most of them headed into Boston to visit their favorite bar, while Doc and Catseye remained aboard.

Not long after the crew departed, Antonio and Matt arrived, having concluded their voyage further down the bay, then driven up to the ALEXA's dock, full of questions as to Catseye's sudden reappearance.

They discussed these questions and more over drinks in Doc's cabin, and they took turns telling stories well into the night -- stories of some of their earlier excursions with a green crew, of the first time they'd ever attempted a ship-to-ship battle (they'd practiced the maneuver at sea many times before daring to do it with customers aboard), and of the grand wars and fights of the past year. Catseye listened to it all, looking as happy as could be to be in the company of Doc, Tony and Matt again.

Eventually, it was time to call it a night. Matt was the first to start yawning, and soon the other three were echoing him. "I swear, these trips get longer every time," Matt groaned.

"Is not the years," Catseye smiled. "Is the mileage."

Matt smiled back at her. "I'd best be home to the wife and kids. So tell me, Catseye, you gonna come see us again once school's out?"

"Oh, probably, yes," Catseye nodded. "Is too much fun to miss for too long, yes?"

"Yeah, it is," Matt chuckled. "Well, I'm wiped out. You comin', Tony?"

"Definitely," Tony nodded. "You gonna spend the night on the ship again, Doc?"

"Always do, the night after a long sail," the captain shrugged.

"You old pirate," Matt snickered.

"Catseye?" Tony said then, reaching over to take one of her hands.

"Yes, 'Tonio?"

Tony looked down, then back at the girl. "It's good to see you again. More than that, it's good to see you're... doing well. I know school must be draining, but... don't be afraid to drop us a line anytime, okay?"

"Okay," she nodded. She then gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, and the same to Matt.

"Take care, kittycat," Matt sighed, returning her hug.

"See you both later!" Tony nodded, and then the two were off.

Doc and Catseye were silent for a long time after they left. Doc finally cleared his throat to speak. "You going to be in Boston much longer, Catseye?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Have plane to catch tomorrow."

"I see. Um... do you need a ride to your hotel, or anything?"

Again, she shook her head. "If is okay with Doc," she said, softly, "would like to stay one last night with Alexa. Old time sake."

He nodded slowly. "Aye, that's fine with me. No sense putting you in a crew cabin this time, though. You can take Nate's room if you'd like."

She arched her eyebrows at him, then padded over to her old basket and nudged it with her foot. "Old time sake," she repeated.

"No, no, Catseye, you're too big for that old thing. You're not even the right shape for it anymore."

She raised one finger. "Watch," she said, simply.

Before Doc's eyes, she made the switch from tall, slender woman to her more familiar cat-shape, all of her body changing, clothing and all. When she was done, she looked up at Doc and blinked her lavender eyes.

"Sweet Lord in heaven," he whispered. "That's... incredible."

He crouched down, and she stepped over beside him and rubbed her face against one of his hands. "You see, Doc?" she said in her deeper cat-form voice. "Am still Catseye."

"Yes, you are, aren't you?" he smiled, scratching the tufts of fur at the sides of her face. "I'm glad you came back."

"Me too," she purred.

After a while, she crept over to the basket and carefully curled up inside. It was a somewhat tight fit now, but she managed just fine. Doc covered her with a blanket, then bent to kiss her fuzzy forehead.

"Good night, Catseye," he whispered.

Fishing Vessel ALEXA
Tuesday, 13 September 1988 2:11 am EDT

A faint sound almost at the edge of hearing woke Doc from his restful sleep. He'd spent many nights like this at sea, during some of the ALEXA's longer excursions, and he never had any trouble sleeping through the ship's rocking, or the creak of wood, or the sound of the water. This new sound, though, was strange. It sounded like crying.

Doc stirred and opened his eyes. The cabin was in blackness, with only a trace of the marginally brighter night outside coming through the single porthole. The sound came again through the dark, and Doc realized that it was Catseye. Probably dreaming, the poor girl. What did cats dream about, anyway?

"Catseye, you're dreaming," he said drowsily. "Go on, everything's fine. Rest easy."

He tried to settle back to sleep himself, then, but the whimpering went on, unabated, and if anything, got worse. Doc sighed, and swung himself gently out of his hammock. Gingerly, as the wooden floor was cold against his bare feet, he crept across the space to Catseye's basket, and knelt beside it. She'd be fine once she got out of whatever nightmare she was having...

Doc reached out to give the cat a reassuring pet, whispering soothing words, but both his gesture and his voice stopped cold as his hand came in contact not with fur, but with bare skin.

With a vague cry of "Jesus God," he lurched back, losing his balance and falling onto his backside. He quickly pushed himself upright and went to fetch the electric lantern from the wall. Kneeling again beside the basket, he turned it on.

Curled up in Catseye's basket was a young girl. She was naked and shivering, and her bare arms and impossibly long legs were so slender that it seemed that they would snap under her weight. Her hair was a huge explosion of purple, growing down to her shoulder blades, and her eyes, too large by far for her fragile, angular face, blinked in the sudden light, the pupils narrowing into slits.

They were the same eyes, though.

Doc took a deep, shivering breath as his mind tried to reconcile the evidence of his senses with this impossibility. "Dear God," he whispered.

The girl stretched out one hand, turning it slowly in the light, looking at it with wide eyes. She seemed equal parts fascinated and horrified at the smooth, bare skin of the palm, and the motion of the fingers as she flexed them.

Horror seemed to be winning the war, though, as her trembling grew worse, and she turned her wild cat's eyes on Doc. After a few quick, shivering breaths, she formed her tongue around a single syllable: "Doc?"

"Catseye?" Doc whispered. There was no other explanation.

The eyes grew wider yet, and she shook her head slowly. "Nnnnnno. Nnnnnno! Nnnnnnot... cah... tsah... aye..!" She began to claw at this hand with the other, scratching herself badly as she did, apparently trying to rip this new skin away.

"Catseye, don't! Stop it!" Doc shouted, grabbing both of her hands. "You'll hurt yourself!" She began to thrash, with a strength Doc would not have thought possible given her slender frame, and he had to grip her tiny wrists so tightly he was worried he'd break them.

Eventually, though, she stopped struggling, and began to cry again, great wracking sobs. Unsure what else to do, Doc gingerly put his arms around the girl and held her. "Sssh. It's okay, Catseye, it's okay."

"Doc," she managed, her new-found voice on the edge of hysteria. "H- help... Cat... seye... help..."

"I- I will, Catseye, I promise. I'll help you... somehow." Even as he made this promise, though, he wondered how in God's name he'd ever be able to keep it...

C:\MASSAC\HELLIONS\GENERAL\LOG (PRIVATE)

14 September 1988

Just when it seemed that I had reached the end of my search with the current roster of four Hellions, I have just had a fifth young mutant all but dropped into my lap.

One of our covers (this one a help-line for "unusual" children) has just informed me of a case right here in Massachusetts, in the Boston area. The call was made by a Doctor Joel "Doc" Williams, captain of a fishing ship called the 'Alexa.' He was reluctant to give details at first, but once he was convinced that our organization did not seek to harm mutant children, he gave us his story.

The mutant in question, if she is indeed a mutant, is probably the oddest case I've encountered to date. Williams reports that a good many years ago, he found a kitten -- about the size of a lion cub, but of unknown breed -- abandoned in his ship's hold. The cat was raised aboard the ship, and was named Catseye. Williams states that Catseye was a very unusual cat, having human-like facial features, paws with opposable thumbs, and sufficient intelligence to understand English and learn to operate the ship's rigging. Two nights ago, however, Catseye apparently metamorphosed in her sleep, into a latency-age human girl with cat-like features.

If this story is true, and this Catseye is in fact a mutant, then she spent her entire pre-adolescent life in the body of a cat. The other, more unsettling possibility is that Catseye really IS a cat of some sort: a cat which has somehow gained the ability to become human.

All of this remains speculation at this point, as I have not yet met the concerned parties. I will be meeting with Dr. Williams at his Boston residence this afternoon to discuss the matter with him, and to "offer" the option of sending his... charge... to the Academy.

I must admit to some doubts regarding this case. Given the proximity of this report -- right here in Massachusetts -- how could this mutant have gone undetected? This is one of the questions I hope to have answered with this afternoon's visit.

In the meantime, the three current active Hellions are growing accustomed to the Academy, and to one another, though this is not without complication. Roulette and Tarot seem to be getting along well enough, though this is more of Tarot's efforts than Roulette's. For all that has happened to her, Tarot remains incredibly naïve -- she views Roulette in almost the same reverent light as she does myself, and with similar conflict of emotions. Roulette seems to enjoy the attention, but as yet has little respect for either of her teammates. Progress with Jetstream is steady, but slow, and his recovery is still in question. Empath remains a loner, and for now, I feel that this is for the best...

-EKF

Williams home, Boston MA
Wednesday, 14 September 1988 4:06 pm EDT

"If you don't mind my asking, Dr. Williams, what exactly are you a Doctor of?"

"Fisheries," Williams replied, absently pulling at his fingers. He'd been kneading his hands throughout the entire interview, Frost noted, and his mind was awash with anxiety. She found herself reminded of a similar interview with Mme. Colbert in France, but while Colbert's thoughts had been primarily of fear of her daughter, Williams's were more fear of what would become of this Catseye of his. He genuinely cared, and this was a first for Frost.

"And now you... fish for a living?" she asked him.

He managed a wry chuckle. "You ever tried to get a job teaching Fisheries?" he asked, rhetorically. Frost had to admit that she certainly had no need for such a field of study. "Besides," he went on, "when my father died and left me the ALEXA... I just couldn't sell her, after all she's been through."

Frost nodded. "I see. How many of your crew are aware of Catseye?"

"All of 'em," he replied. "The older she got, the more she was as much a member of the crew as the rest of us."

"More to the point, then... How many are aware of what happened to her the other night?"

Williams looked down, considering this. "All of 'em," he nodded again. "When she... changed... that night, word got around pretty quick as we were sailing in."

"How did they react?"

"They were all... taken aback, I guess you could say. I mean, we always knew that she was unusual, but... we always thought of her as a cat, even as strange and as smart as she was. We never even considered that she might be a mutant."

"That is what concerns me," Frost said, evenly. "Already, your entire crew knows that she is a mutant. Word could get out, and if it has reached the wrong ears, she could already be in danger."

Williams shook his head. "No, I don't think that'll happen. They're a good bunch of men. With all the years she lived on the ship, no one ever found out about her, 'cause we kept her a secret."

"Yes, but that was before she was found to be what many consider the greatest menace in human history: a mutant. Might their perception not change, knowing this?"

For a while, Williams did not answer. "No," he said at last. "She was... the whole crew loved her. I think right now, everyone's more worried for her than about her. Dr. Frost, we sailed on a ship with a huge purple cat who understood English and could run the sails. We kept that secret, we can keep this secret. I told the lads to keep it under their hats, and I think they will."

Frost nodded. That would have to do. The alternative would be to track each member of the crew down and erase the cat-girl from their memories -- a viable option, but one difficult to execute.

"What can you do for her?" Williams asked at length. His concern for her was still all too apparent in his thoughts.

"First of all, Dr. Williams, what I offer is not a 'cure.' Being a mutant is not a disease, and even if there were a way to take her mutancy from her, we would not."

"Of course," he replied, trying to nod and shake his head at the same time. "She... she is what she is, after all."

"Precisely," Frost agreed. "First and foremost, she will be educated, seeing as this is something she has lacked to date." She held up one hand to forestall his protest. "No fault of yours, Doctor. I doubt anyone would think to send a cat to school, no matter how unusual she may be."

"True," he shrugged, somewhat mollified.

"Most of all," Frost continued, "she will have the chance to learn alongside others who share her unusual situation. She will have peers and instructors who will know her for what she is, and will understand the unique problems that arise from being a mutant. There is no doubt in my mind, Doctor, that she is as frightened for what she has become as you or anyone else could be for her. I hope to help her come to understand what she is, and further, to learn to control any power she may have, so that she will not be a danger to herself and others."

Williams paused for a moment. "If it's not too personal a question, Dr. Frost, how is it you can give her all that? Are... you a mutant, too?"

"I am a teacher," Frost replied without hesitation, "and a psychologist. And I have had years of experience dealing with mutants."

He nodded, looking apologetic. He seemed satisfied enough with her answer to the first question -- so much so that he didn't seem to have noticed that she hadn't answered the second.

"May I see her now?" she then asked.

"I... I suppose. But Dr. Frost..."

"Yes?"

"You... promise she'll be well-cared for? That she won't get hurt?"

"Of course, Doctor. You have my word."

"Will I be able to come see her?"

She'd been afraid of this question. By his thoughts, he was the sort who would, too. And that was something she could not afford at this stage. Stavros, Al-Rashid, De la Rocha and Colbert all came from families who would not do much by way of checking up on their offspring, either out of fear or indifference. This was the closest Frost had yet come to a concerned parent, and she could not let this get in the way of her plans for the Hellions.

With just the barest mental touch, she froze his thoughts completely, then entered his mind, moving as swiftly and silently as an owl, scanning through his thoughts and memories. She would have to do something to blunt this concern.

It was so genuine, though, and so deeply rooted... Frost found it frankly amazing that this cat-girl was so important to him. To take his concern away entirely would be difficult.

And the more she thought about it, the less she could begrudge the man. After the apathy of the Stavros family, the fear from Mme. Colbert, and all that she had otherwise experienced, she felt that she could allow him this concern.

Instead of taking it away, then, she planted a suggestion in his mind, almost post-hypnotically. In the future, whenever he thought to call the Academy or visit Catseye there, another thought would abate his concern, compelling him to realize that she was in good hands there, and to be satisfied with that.

This would do, but there should probably be more... Frost sensed that Williams had long-standing dreams for his ship, which unfortunately were held in check by lack of money from the fishing trade. She made a mental note to arrange a buyer for his fish, paying far above the going rate if necessary, to help him start putting that dream into motion. Soon he would have more with which to concern himself than Catseye, and that would be best for all of their needs.

This work done, she released his mind, so gently that he was wholly unaware that anything had happened.

"Undoubtedly, Dr. Williams," she smiled.
 
 

An hour later, Frost and Catseye were heading out of Boston in one of Frost's private limousines, westward-bound for the Berkshire mountains and the Massachusetts Academy.

Catseye sat in the back of the limo with Frost -- or more to the point, as far away from Frost as she could manage, sitting on the opposite seat, scooted as close to the window as possible, hugging her knees to her chest. She had been dressed, but the clothes seemed to irritate her all the more. Under her explosion of wild lavender hair, her hard-edged face was stormy and sulking.

In the hour that Frost had been in Catseye's presence, she had come to realize all too well why this mutant could not be detected. The girl was a blank spot to Frost's telepathy. It wasn't that her thoughts were evasive, or difficult to grasp -- they were simply not present. Nor was there present an active thought shield, as another psi would have as a defense. Nor were her questing thoughts even intercepted by a void. On the telepathic level, Catseye simply did not exist, and any thought-scan directed her way passed right through her, with no interference and nothing detected. The girl was completely psi-blind, psi-deaf, and psi-mute.

Needless to say, Frost found this unsettling. She had never, in all her years, met anyone like this. She had fought telepathic battles, and had even lost, she had grappled with psi-shields and slippery psyches, but she had never encountered one upon whom her powers had absolutely no effect. This could prove difficult, as she had been relying on these powers to keep the Hellions in line, if necessary.

She would then have to find another way to gain this girl's trust.

"Catseye," she said aloud, this being the first word spoken since they had left Boston.

Catseye did not reply, but turned those namesake eyes on Frost, her gaze boring into the older woman.

"May I call you Catseye?" Frost went on. The girl did not answer, so she continued. "You know, Catseye, we'll need to have another name for you, too, since not everyone will be able to call you Catseye. Do you have another name?"

Silence remained the only reply, and Frost found the psychic silence even more unnerving than the vocal silence. "We should find another name that other people may call you instead of Catseye," she nodded, putting as much of a reassuring tone as she could manage into her voice. Normally, she would accompany this with reassuring thoughts, but here, she could not.

"How about... Sharon?" she ventured. The girl was nothing like Frost's years-dead sister, of course, but it seemed somehow appropriate. "Do you like that name?"

Catseye did nothing more than blink in reply.

"Well, I'll just call you Sharon for now, then. My name is Emma Frost, Sharon, and I'm going to be your teacher."

After yet another silence, Frost leaned forward to look across the compartment at her new charge. "Are you aware of what you are, Sharon?"

For a moment, Catseye stared her in the eye, but then finally, the girl spoke. "Fucking cat," she said, with little difficulty.

Now it was Frost's turn to blink. She realized then and there that this was going to be an interesting relationship. It seemed Catseye had picked up quite the vocabulary living with sailors all her life...

"Not exactly, Sharon," Frost went on, making a point to use the name. "You see, what you are is a mutant. You're a person, like me, but you're also gifted with powers beyond those of normal people. Your power is what has made you a cat for all your life, and now that you're older, I believe you've gained the ability to change from cat to person."

"Am cat!" Catseye hissed, defensively. "Am fucking cat! No person!"

"Look at yourself," Frost said, quietly. "You have the tail of a cat, and you have the eyes of a cat, but other than that, you look like a person to me. And that's not a bad thing at all. You're lucky, Sharon -- you get to be both."

She shook her head, her motions jerky and overcompensated for her form. "No," she growled, sulkily. "Was cat. Now person."

"That's because you're a mutant, Sharon. You have a power that changed you from cat to person. Have you tried to be a cat again?"

Here, Catseye gave her a puzzled look. "Was cat," she repeated. "Now person."

"Yes, but I think you can be a cat again, if you try. If I'm right, then your power is to change from cat to person, but also from person to cat again. Have you tried it?"

Catseye shrugged awkwardly. "Just... happened."

"Then try to make it happen again," Frost nodded.

There was a pause, as Catseye seemed to be considering this, but then quite suddenly, and with an apparent ease that astounded Frost, Catseye changed, ripping out of her clothing as she did. In moments, she had become the large lavender cat that Williams had described.

And she had also become quite ecstatic, apparently, as she immediately began to purr loudly. She grinned at Frost and gracefully leaped across to where the woman was sitting so that she could rub her face against Frost's hand.

"Um, that's... very good, Sharon," Frost managed under the assault of affectionate cat. Catseye's mood seemed to have shifted as abruptly as her shape, as she was quite suddenly the happiest cat on Earth, butting her head against Frost's chin and licking her face. "Yes, very..." She had to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of this situation. "Alright, calm down, Sharon, calm down."

Catseye curled up on the seat, half-draped over Frost's lap, and went on purring. Frost realized that with this simple revelation, she had gained the girl's trust for now. The trick, she realized, would be in getting her out of this form again.

"There, you see how easy that was?" Frost asked, almost involuntarily reaching to scratch the cat's ears. "But do you know what? You still look a little bit like a person when you're a cat. Can you still talk?"

The cat turned its feline face toward her and gave her a puzzled frown. "Cats do not talk," Catseye said then, in a deeper, more distorted voice.

Yes, Frost thought to herself, this was certainly going to be an interesting relationship...

Andromeda Books, outskirts of Boston, MA
Thursday, 6 January 1994 12:17 pm EST

Another day, another signing.

John Terra was happy. The holiday season had been exceptionally pleasant, all things considered. Even as hectic as things had been from the season, life had been good to him. More to the point, readers had been good to him. His book had, after a slow start, become a bestseller from coast to coast, and the royalty checks were getting bigger and better. He even enjoyed the signings, now, so long as they weren't too far from home. Best of all, he was negotiating a contract for his next four novels, for a sum that would get the house fixed up, maybe even put the kids through college, and more to the point, save him from having a day job and give the little ones a father who could be around more often for them.

So long as there weren't too many of these signings, of course. He left the latest in this string of local bookstores, whistling happily to himself, all but skipping his way to where he'd parked his car. He unlocked and opened his door, but before he could get in, a voice brought him short. "Mr. Terra!"

John looked back to see one of the store employees -- this one the young man with the ponytail -- running up to meet him, holding John's briefcase. With a sigh of sudden panic and relief, John came to meet him on the sidewalk.

"You, ah, forgot this, Mr. Terra," the young man smiled, slightly out of breath.

"Thanks, Ian," John smiled, accepting the case and giving him a light clap on the shoulder. "I owe you one."

"Hey, anytime, Mr. Terra," Ian smiled hugely. He then nodded and retreated back to the store, waving.

John's smile widened as he went back to his car and stepped in. It was quite an unusual experience to have fans, he decided.

For a moment, as he buckled his seatbelt, he thought he heard something, but quickly dismissed that thought. Just his imagination again, most likely. For now, it was time to get home to Ellen and the kids.

After driving a few blocks uneventfully, out of nowhere (or rather, out of the back seat), a face suddenly popped up and rested its chin on the front seat, very close to John's shoulder. "Hello, writerguy!"

With a vague cry of alarm, John involuntarily swerved, but quickly regained control, looking over at the grinning face beside him. "Emily?!" he half-gasped and half-shouted.

Lithely, Emily slid over the top of the seat and sat herself down in the passenger's side, transferring John's briefcase to the floor. "Is very good to see writerguy again," she purred, buckling herself in with the seatbelt. "Are well? Wife and kids well?"

"Ah, yeah, I'm okay, and they're all fine..." he stammered.

"Good!" she grinned. "Am happy and pleased to see writerguy well. Book was very good, by the way! Looks like manypeople like too, yes?"

"I suppose so, but..." He glanced over to meet her huge violet cat-eyes. "What are you... doing here? How did you find me?"

She shrugged. "Was in neighborhood, looked you up in phonebook, and called. Talked to writerguy's wife, who said you were not home, but out signing books at bookplace Andromeda."

"Aha," he nodded to himself, moving his eyes back to traffic. He wondered how many questions he'd have to field from Ellen when he got home. "Well... why are you in Boston, then? Last I saw, you wanted to get out of here." Last he saw, she had also been singed and bruised and covered with bloody claw-wounds, for that matter...

"Am on vacation," she smiled, simply.

It was then that John remembered Emily's companion from that midnight drive months before. "Where's Terri? Is she alright?"

"Yes," Emily sighed, happily. "She is well, is awake, is happy, and we have new place with people who care for us and love us, and we all look after each other. Is good life."

"That's good to know," John nodded, with genuine relief. He'd often wondered at the fate of his two passengers in the months that had followed, and in spite of the surprise of her appearance, it was good to hear from her again.

"Um..." he ventured, "were you able to get away from... whoever it was who hurt you two?"

"Oh, yes," she nodded. "He will not bother us again. Happy and safe now."

"That's good," he said, carefully.

"Just wanted to say, though, that this could not have been if not for writerguy," she told him, putting one hand on his arm and giving it a warm squeeze. "Wanted to say thank you, so writerguy would know all turned out well in the end, yes?"

"I'm glad it did turn out alright, then."

They drove on in silence for a while, and at length, John spoke again. "Um... Emily?"

"Yes?"

"Am I being carjacked again?"

"No, 'course not!" she denied. "But if writerguy would give ride to airport, would be appreciated much."

In spite of it all, John laughed. "Yeah, I think I can do that."
 
 

Next: "Chains of Luck"

Go West #19: "Please Come to Boston"
by Jeremy Bottroff, 31 December 1994

This story (c) 1994, 1999 Jeremy Bottroff

"Please Come to Boston" performed by Willie Nelson, from the album CITY OF NEW ORLEANS.  And I'll be totally honest with you; I have NO idea who did this song originally.  (But I'm looking into it.)

Haroun Al-Rashid (Jetstream), Marie-Ange Colbert (Tarot), Manuel De la Rocha (Empath), Emma Frost (White Queen), Sharon Smith (Catseye), Jennifer Stavros (Roulette), Hellions, Massachusetts Academy (c) 1999 Marvel Entertainment Group

Adam Burke, Mme. Brigitte Colbert, Chet Fink, Sharon Frost, Jason McGee, Antonio Moretti, Stevie Oliver, Rudy St. John, Nate Templeton, Matthew Vaughn, Dr. Joel "Doc" Williams created by Jeremy Bottroff, (c) 1999 Jeremy Bottroff

John and Ellen Terra are (c) themselves (Welcome back, Writerguy!)

MU Press printed the delightful XANADU comics by Vicky Wyman, which are a lot of fun, even for a guy like me who isn't normally into anthropomorphics

Chris Hanen is a Tuckerization of my best friend from late elementary school and junior high, whose name was (tada!) Chris Hanen.  So chances are he won't turn out to be Catseye's harsh-voiced father.  (Honest, Chris!)

This chapter turned out NOTHING like its outline.  Which is fine by me, really.