Catalyst (2 page)

Whatever the reasons, Janina seemed to come in season every time she was around Dr. Jared Vlast, though it was difficult to tell with humans. When Chessie was in season, she was in season. With most humans it only seemed to happen when they were around specific other humans. They were an odd, unpredictable race, even the best of them.

“Oh no!” Janina said to their new acquaintance, and Chessie could tell that the girl’s emphatic denial amused the man. “Why, these cats are so valued that every ship carrying a Barque Cat is required to bear a chartreuse sign with the legend ‘COB’—Cat on Board. That way, if the ship is wrecked and the humans all perish, other ships coming by will check to see if the cat found a last tiny chamber of oxygen and was somehow saved.”

“Huh,” the man said. “If the cat is the only one left, seems to me it might not have been doing the job you said it does—you know, finding leaks and such.”

Janina shifted Chessie so she couldn’t see the man’s face anymore. The girl was quivering a little as she came to the defense of Chessie and her kind. “With all of the patches on your uniform, sir, how can you fail to understand that there are many hazards in space that even the most experienced human crewmen—much less a cat, however specialized her breeding and training—could do nothing to stop—meteors, unfriendly fire, all manner of things. Thank you for walking me to the clinic. It is time for our appointment.”

Well, that told him! Chessie was sure she heard the man chuckle as he walked away. She would have wondered at his odd reaction to Janina’s snub except that Dr. Vlast was opening the clinic door for them, and the kittens had decided to play tag inside her swollen belly.

Chessie purred as Dr. Vlast took her from Janina’s arms. Even the kittens quieted down. Despite his regrettable tendency to subject her to medical indignities, Jared Vlast was a great favorite of Chessie’s as well as her girl’s. The two older vets previously operating
this clinic had been very brisk and businesslike, and not at all respectful of Chessie’s importance to her ship. Janina, then little more than a child, had whispered to the kitten Chessie, “Never mind them, Duchess. Those kinds of doctors think only livestock animals are important—cattle, sheep, pigs, horses. A lot
they
know!”

For the first time, Chessie noticed that her
doctors
heart was also beating fast and
his
pulses were thumping as he smiled at Janina, who was trying hard to look calm and professional but couldn’t help how big and round her eyes got when she looked up at him.

Hmm. Well well. Good! The attraction appeared to be mutual! Chessie was surprised her human friends couldn’t hear each other’s chests pounding. Or maybe they could and just wouldn’t admit it. Humans were so strange about mating matters.

Janina had of course discussed the doctor with her, for she was not only her best friend but unlikely to spread rumors. Jared Vlast was only six whole years older than Janina, but was already a man of the universe who had actually spent time on other planets, not just their docking stations. He was well-educated, a sort of veterinary prodigy, whereas she had been educated in the Academy, the place where the kittens of spacefaring parents were sent, whether or not their parents were alive. Janina’s weren’t, and Chessie had heard her say the children of spacefarers who still had their parents were more likely to go on to graduate as officers or ship’s technicians. She was an orphan. Not having your parents with you as a kitten was a bad thing for humans, apparently, though it didn’t stop them from taking feline kittens from their mothers and sending them—all alone in a crowd of loud tall humans with clumsy feet—onto other ships, stations, and worlds.

Janina evidently considered that her parentless status, despite the fact that she had a perfectly wonderful cat companion, made her somewhat less than the many other females. Silly
mistaken
Janina had muttered into Chessie’s fur that someone with Jared Vlast’s potential wouldn’t consider a Cat Person as a mate. As if being a Cat Person—especially
her
Cat Person—was not the most important job in the universe! Janina viewed the other females who wanted to mate with Dr. Vlast as prettier, smarter, and
better
than she was. Chessie could only yawn at the folly of such an idea and lick Janina’s fingers sympathetically. There
were
no other females, anywhere, better in any way than her.

“She’s quite near her time now, isn’t she?” Dr. Jared asked as he cradled Chessie in one arm while opening the door for Janina and then shepherding her through the reception room. It was, for a change, empty.

“Yes, but there’s something odd happening that I wanted you to check,” Janina told him.

“So you didn’t get my message?” he asked.

“You sent me one?” Chessie heard her Kibble’s heartbeat picking up speed.

“Yes,” he said, keying the door lock and ushering her inside his main office. “I’m hoping you can help me. Bill’s on home leave, and I need someone in the left-hand seat. There seem to be some unauthorized horses showing up dirtside.”

“Seem to be?”

Oh dear, Chessie thought, it’s the cat hotel for me! He had borrowed Kibble before to help him when he had to go dirtside, to the planet the space station orbited. Chessie had stayed in the cat hotel then too. It was lovely, but she missed Kibble. And when she’d been here before, the other guests had been horses, who stayed in another part of the clinic, though she could hear and smell them. No other cats.

“George Varley said he spotted some broken-colored stock in one of his fields. He has purebreds and none of them are broken-colored. Varley doesn’t want to be accused of stealing them, so we’ll chip them if they’re not already chipped and check that
they’re healthy enough to mix with his herd.” He showed her into one of the cubicles and gently deposited Chessie on the examination table. “If they’ve been tagged, I’ll be interested to see how and when they came to be here. I haven’t seen a piebald or a skewbald since I left Earth.”

He chirped encouragingly to Chessie, and she lifted her head for him to give her a proper scritch behind her ears, her favorite place for petting. Purring, she stood up on the table, gave Janina an accusing glance, and stroked Jared’s arm with the side of her face. But she knew Kibble would go. It would take more than looks to make her give up alone time with Dr. Jared Vlast. Such a fuss over those silly chips! Couldn’t the humans tell which horses were theirs by sight and smell?

As Jared then moved on to a quick, competent feel of her fecund belly, he asked Janina what was concerning her.

“Well, she’s been regurgitating a lot, and it’s strange looking.” Janina showed him the vial that contained the latest of her spit-up. Humans collected the strangest things! Janina turned it in the light. “You see it’s got these sparkly bits that I can’t account for at all.”

Jared peered at the vial, which Janina rocked so he could see the tiny bits that did pick up the light.

He reached for it and examined it more closely, then shook his head. “Well, as usual, you have more foresight than the others.”

“The others?”

“Uh-huh,” he said in a thoughtful tone. “Four other cats are spitting up the same sort of mucus, whatever it is, but you’re the only one who thought of bringing me a sample. I can’t do a detailed analysis of it right now because I’ve got to check out Varley’s trespassers.”

Chessie yawned and sat and watched them, switching her tail softly.

“Is she eating well?”

Janina sighed. “Like she thinks food is scarce.”

The vet grinned, petting Chessie’s head again. “Well, she’s feeding at least seven kittens. Is that how many you’ve sold off?”

“No, we’ve secured buyers for eight this time. Even runts would be welcome with her breeding,” Janina replied. “Not that she’s ever had any.”

“Which is why she’s eating so much.” Jared scratched Chessie’s ear vigorously, and she leaned into his caressing hand. “She’s due soon. But not today, I think. I could really use your help tagging, Nina. What do you say? We can either take her back to the ship or leave her here in the peace and quiet. Isn’t your ship loading?”

“It is and she should have quiet,” Janina replied, stroking Chessie’s thick and silky coat with a soothing rhythm. It felt lovely. “Not that anyone would disturb her.”

“She can have the whole kennel to herself,” Jared promised. “Plus, I have some chicken livers that she might deign to eat.”

Chicken livers! Chessie licked her chops at the very idea. She
loved
chicken livers. Maybe some quiet time away from Kibble and
Molly Daise
wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Dr. Vlast! I think you planned this—you know that’s her favorite,” Janina said. “You sure know how to get around her!” Chessie thought that cats were not the only ones the vet knew how to get around.

He grinned. “Jared, please. I’m glad this works out for all of us. When I got my consumable shipment from downside yesterday, it occurred to me—since the
Molly Daise
was in port—that you might bring her in for a checkup.” He ducked his head, and Chessie could see that Janina was surprised to see a bit of a flush on his face. Both heart rates increased tempo and intensity.

Humans could be so adorable—and dense. Why did the girl think he kept dragging her off to romantic rendezvous to tag animals or do mass livestock inoculations if he wasn’t smitten? Of course, for the horse thing, which had apparently caused an epidemic
on another colony world, he’d rounded up all of the Cat People in port, but he’d chosen to work with
her
most of the time. The girl reported dreamily that he had told her she was efficient and good-natured under extreme conditions. Possibly he was miraculously unaware that any conditions including him would be good conditions as far as Janina was concerned. She’d described in awe-stricken detail the wonders of catching sheep all over the planet, touching down wherever the records listed horses, inoculating them and adding the information on the ID chips all the animals on Sherwood were required to have. They had actually found a couple of
bad
chips, Janina said, though that was up to Jared to deal with, not her.

“I’d better clear my absence with Captain Vesey, Jared,” Janina said.

He handed her a phone. “I’ll just check the kennel and put down the livers and fresh water for Chessie, then,” he said with a grin, and backed out of the cubicle.

Captain Vesey readily okayed the shore mission for Janina and the vacation for Chessie.

Her kennel suite was large enough for a big dog. It had a sleeping platform in one corner, well-lined with soft comfy bedding, a drinking fountain that poured a lovely private waterfall very nice for cooling a paw in and pretending to fish, a tree stump for clawing, and the bowl of rich brown chicken livers that Chessie sniffed as Jared deposited them in the kennel. She practically flung herself out of Janina’s arms to get at the treat, and barely heard the click as Jared turned on the security camera and speakers that would allow her humans to check in on her at a distance. She was much too busy purring delightedly over her meal. After all, she was eating for many.

When at last she was replete with chicken livers, Chessie slept on her platform, happy to have nothing expected of her for a change. While aboard the
Molly Daise
, in addition to her usual
workload, she had searched the vessel from stem to stern, not for the hazards or vermin she usually stalked, but for a likely birthing nest where the kittens would be safe from prying eyes, where she could do what she had done so many times before. Only once had she been able to actually use her secret nest, and she was sorry afterward because Janina had become quite distraught searching for her. Everyone wanted her birthings to be observed, assisted, and otherwise interfered with.

Well-bred she might be, but by this time her philosophy of raising kittens was to let the little buggers grow and crawl and feed their tiny round tummies. Once they were born, she intended to feed the needs of her exhausted body with blissful sleep. She thought she could sleep through anything at this point. When she recalled the pleasure she had enjoyed raising the first litter, the second, the third, even the fourth, she purred. But now, many litters later, the thrill was gone. Her crew liked to brag about what a good mother she was, but it made her tired just thinking of having more kittens to bear, to wash, to carry until her jaws ached. She would once more train them in their jobs and their basic feline survival skills, then, just as she was getting used to having them around, she’d lose them when they were sold to other ships. Never mind. She would miss them, but they would be someone else’s problem. She opened her eyes a slit, sighed, rearranged her paws, and fanned her plumelike tail over them so its tip covered her nose. As soon as the kits were gone, there’d be some new tom thrust at her, giving her the same old song and dance that meant, in time, more kittens.

That was all very well for toms.
They
only had one career, spending their time cruising their ships, hunting space vermin, snuggling with and cadging occasional treats from crew members, and being called upon to breed the poor queens who then had to bear the consequences and the kittens.

She dreamed of pouncing on the next tom like she would
pounce on a rat. She purred in her sleep and had a lovely, lovely rest, rising only to nibble on more delicious food before sleeping again.

It was a most excellent vacation, exactly when she needed it, and she hoped Janina and Dr. Jared would be gone a long time on their errand.

Sometime later she woke with a start to the screams of horses and the smell of smoke. Where was her Kibble, and why wasn’t she back yet? She had to warn her about the smoke! And then she saw rough human male hands reaching for the front door to her cage …

J
ubal Poindexter left the barn door open while he sat on a hay bale sharpening the scythe his dad had promised to sharpen before he left. Jubal had learned a long time ago not to set much store by his dad’s promises. The farm would have gone to wrack and ruin if Jubal and his mama depended on the old man to keep his word.