Home Sweet Home
By Minna S. Lunney
Chapter Five
Hello, Goodbye
"This one’s to be prepared."
"This one? Are you sure? I was all set to perform the autopsy."
"I have Executive orders. Just cooperate, all right?"
"Well, sure... but I thought we’d be able to keep it around for study. It’s so... different."
"I still don’t understand how you people can cut into and dig around through whoever without flinching... even something that innocent-looking."
"You get used to it after a while. Be glad there’s always someone around who isn’t weak-stomached like you, otherwise medicine would never advance. But it’s a shame, isn’t it? This one was young, much too young."
"I’ll say. Poor kid, whatever she is."
"Was."
"Was."
"Well... her clothes and that thing they drifted in on are packed up in that box over there. I’m not sure what to do with them."
"Uh... I’ll bet the Executive wants them."
"Okay, they’re yours to take. Would you pass me those jars over there?"
"What, these?"
"Yes. To prepare it, I think I’ll remove all the internal organs and discard them in those. That way the corpse will stay intact longer."
"The outsiders might not like that idea, though. And I’m not so sure I do either!"
"Oh, fine. I’ll just start draining the blood, then."
"Keep your intentions to yourself. I want to go to lunch in a few minutes."
"Heh heh heh... what are you doing in this profession, if the mere mention of blood makes you ill?"
"I can’t find anything else."
"How sad. Turn around, now, as I make the incision."
"What was her name?"
"Wha— her name? Why the devil does it matter? Just go watch the news if you want to know."
"I’ve been too busy to catch up on news."
"Tisk tisk! And you call yourself a good citizen! All right, all right, it’s Wilykit. See, even the tag here says so. Funny, huh? Now, while I’m handling this, you ought to go take care of the rest of your duties for this preparation."
"Sure, right. After lunch."
"May I join you?"
"Not until you wash your hands first."
"A done deal, then."
***
"Feliner to Cats Lair," radioed Cheetara as the aircraft hovered high above the huge expanse of open ocean thousands of feet below. "Are you sure we’ve reached the proper coordinates?"
"According to what Forn has told us, you’re right over their principal city," came Panthro’s reply moments later.
Pumyra looked to her companion sitting just a few feet away with a wary expression, clenching her hands nervously. "Do you put it past him to lie to us?"
"He may be capable of it, but he seems to have some sense of honor as well," she appraised. "I doubt that he would take any promise lightly— even if it was made to us." The cheetah turned to speak to Panthro once more, raising her voice. "We’ll begin our descent now."
"Okay— good luck. And don’t be alarmed if our communications should give out. We have no idea how that layer of interference will affect them."
"We’ll keep that in mind. Feliner out."
The craft dropped slowly as the two women manning it glanced about anxiously for any changes in the scene below. "To think they’re both down there somewhere... it’s strange, isn’t it?" commented the puma soberly.
No reply was spoken, but one was not truly needed. Suddenly the sea below seemed to warp out of existence, and a strange emerald city claimed its place. "By Jaga— it’s incredible!"
"I can hardly believe it myself," Cheetara breathed. "It’s almost like Thundera. How sad they chose to hide all this."
The landing pad that had been afforded them was directly below as promised. "Cats Lair, do you copy? We’ve reached Barim, and it is certainly a sight to be seen!" Pumyra announced as she assisted her companion in directing the craft in its landing procedure. Crackling static was all she received in return, and she pulled off her headset. "And yet our audio/visual communication with Latcris works flawlessly. How odd..."
"Perhaps because they want it to."
"You’re thinking they can jam our communications at will?"
"I wouldn’t put it past their capabilities. And I get the feeling that they are a freely paranoid people— and that the paranoia is not only accepted, but also encouraged."
The Feliner touched down smoothly. Through the windshield, the women were afforded the same strange sight that had greeted their kitten’s eyes nearly a month earlier. "What on Thundera are they all doing out there? It looks like a campground."
Cheetara squinted through the flashes. "Cameras? Why?"
"Should we stay in here awhile or get out?" Pumyra instinctively raised her forearm as a shield.
"Someone down there is waving us to come down— see the one in all black? And look, there’s Forn right beside him!"
"In all black as well... why on such a hot day?" She wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Should we bring anything along?"
"I’m not sure."
Pumyra paused thoughtfully. "I think I’ll sneak in a long-distance communicator. Maybe they can only jam devices that they’re aware of." She took up the small hand-held device accordingly and placed it in the pouch that contained her marbles.
They left their vehicle and rushed toward the tallish Executive as hoards of black-suited persons held back the more colorful and numerous mob that had gathered for photographic purposes. Some even shouted at them:
"What do you think of Latcris so far?"
"Surely you’re not here to take back Wilykat, are you?"
"Word is you treated the boy poorly. What do you have to say in your defense?"
"Ignore them," Forn leaned forward and whispered into their ears as he took each of them by an arm, and neither was loathe to follow his advice. He began leading them briskly away, supplanted eventually by two less lanky subordinates. They were taken past a metal fence and into a chilly building. "Welcome to Latcris Ministry," he continued as the party slowed to a temporary halt, throwing back the ebony hood from his head. "I apologize that we could not receive you formally at the front entrance, but it was even more congested with newspersons."
"Newspersons...?"
"All in good time." He glanced at his guards. "Escort them to my quarters and see that everyone outside is politely turned away. I’ve some legislation to consider." With no further recognition of his guests, Forn glided down the drab hallway and out of sight.
While one guard turned back to carry out Forn’s second order, the other— larger and sterner-looking— led the women silently down the cramped corridor. After a time the monotony of the place became disconcerting, even sinister. But they dared not say anything that could possibly destroy their chances of seeing Wilykat.
They passed under the Ministry’s great dome, unwittingly as awestruck as their younger counterpart had been several days before. Now the halls were suspended and much more open, with only handrails to prevent pedestrians from a very undesirable fate. Still they were ushered along— up ramps, down ramps; it was as though they were being led in circles— until at last they reached what looked like a large wing of apartments centered underneath the dome. The guard stopped in front of the door leading into what had to be the largest of the structures, and opened it by entering a numeric code on a nearby keypad. He stepped inside first, then beckoned with a terse nod of his head for Cheetara and Pumyra to follow.
They found themselves standing in an expansive, highly ornate foyer. The place was breathtaking, and certainly appeared much bigger than it had from the outside. In front of them loomed a huge staircase, while to either side were open entrances to what had to be reception rooms. The guard walked into the leftmost chamber, and they followed hesitantly. The view before them bloomed into a magnificent cream-carpeted lounge, with a square-shaped, rose-colored couch bordering a sunken section of flooring upon which several plush cushions had been strewn about attractively. No pictures or ornaments obscured the white walls, allowing them to flawlessly reflect the sunlight offered by the dome that filtered down through a large square skylight directly above the seating area.
The ThunderCats gingerly took seats along the backless couch, glancing at each other uncertainly. Their escort stood resolutely at the doorway. "Do you suppose he’s going to stay in here the entire time?" hissed the puma to her companion, leaning closer.
"That’s what it looks like," Cheetara whispered back. "I guess we should have expected as much."
"They are quite suspicious."
"I wonder how long they’re going to have us wait?"
"Long enough to make us nervous, I’m sure."
"Well, it’s working already."
"I’ll say."
The minutes dragged on in silence. The guard merely stared straight ahead with apathy written on his face. The women were too unsure of their situation to address him with a question or to even speak further between themselves. They took to studying the walls, the ceiling, their hands, the floor—then over again once the cycle was complete. Pumyra began knocking a foot absent-mindedly against a fluffy blue cushion at a steady rhythm, while Cheetara discretely stretched out her back. Not even the reassuring tick of a clock could be heard in the room; for the sheer distraction of it, both took to counting off the seconds in their heads. They must have waited at least half an hour, perhaps more. Then, suddenly, he bounded past the guard and into the room, making a beeline for his countrymen.
"Wilykat!"
The next few minutes were comprised of nothing but embraces, laughter, and a few tears. Now the guard’s rapt attention was fully focused on the trio, but none of them seemed to notice or care. "We’ve missed you so much!" Pumyra could not help gushing for the third time, tousling his mane playfully once she had removed her arms from about his shoulders.
They resumed their seats on the couch, and this time the boy sat between them. They held his hands as he beamed up at each of them in turn. He was essentially unchanged, they observed with relief. Although he had developed a nervous twitch in his left eye— then again, that might have been there before, and they never noticed. The only other difference was his clothing: a black long-sleeved shirt with black pants.
More of that color. What does it mean? they pondered.
"I’ve missed you too," he replied eagerly. "To be honest, I never thought I’d see you again. Did you know about what happened to me and Kit?"
A shadow crossed Cheetara’s face. "We knew. But the Sword couldn’t tell us where you were."
"Why not?"
The women exchanged furtive glances. Both held the same meaning: They didn’t tell him? "The storm caused some electrical interference that couldn’t be penetrated," Pumyra quickly offered the half-lie. Neither of them wished to waste their time by digging into the complexities of the situation that they themselves did not fully understand.
"I see. So, how are things back at the Lair and the Tower?"
They smiled, a little less tense. "Much quieter. It’s just not the same without you."
"But what we want to talk about is how you’re doing." Cheetara poked him affectionately in the ribs, and was somewhat alarmed by the way Wilykat reacted. Instead of the usual shy, submissive grin, he tensed and jerked away ever so slightly, as though the little gesture pained him a great deal. She frowned slightly. He had not shown any protest when they were hugging earlier... then again, they had all been so excited and she had not been looking for anything of that sort. Her tone of voice reflected her concern. "How is living here?"
"Um... all right." His expression suddenly grew strained, and he averted his gaze from the both of them. "Food, clothes, school... there’s a park too, it’s nice... I read a lot, and... and..." His next words were barely above a whisper. "They pay me a lot of attention."
"You don’t just mean Forn’s family, do you?" Pumyra asked just as quietly, her eyes narrowed. "When we got here, there was a mob waiting for us— ‘newspersons.’ Is that—"
He cut her off, raising a hand and nodding somberly. Then, his frustrations from the past few days suddenly took verbal form and poured bitterly from his lips; and he bent over and rocked himself slightly, staring at the white wall ahead. "They follow me everywhere. They take pictures and ask questions and write articles and tell stories, even though I’m wearing black. They’re not supposed to if I wear black, but I’m an exception somehow. And it’s never enough for them. If I ignore them, they just make something up. Everyone listens and everyone believes, especially the made-up stuff. They think and say terrible things about you— all of you— but usually Snarf, for some reason. They keep speculating and offering opinions. You’d think my opinion would count toward something, but it doesn’t. I’m different," his voice took on an especially acrid tone for emphasis, and he clenched a fist tightly, "but I’m better off here. I have opportunity here." He squeezed his eyes shut. "Wilykit had it all wrong—"
"You will have to stop whispering over there."
They all turned up sharply to look over at the guard. He stared back, fully expecting to be obeyed. The two women wanted more than anything to tell him where he could stick his authority complex, but were wise enough to refrain. "I bet this conversation is being recorded right now, isn’t it?" Cheetara murmured.
"I said—"
"I’m well aware of what you said!" She was not too loud, but she was stern— stern enough to chill the spine of anyone who dared antagonize her. The sentry visibly backed down, a little daunted but assured that his point was driven home.
They sat together in silence for a few moments, drawing strength from one another. Then Pumyra brightened. "Look what I brought, Wilykat."
He, too, grinned as he watched her pull the communicator from her pouch. "Are they receiving?"
"I’m sure they are. Go ahead, try it!"
The kitten quivered with anticipation as he took the small device and activated it, a small sly grin on his lips. "Come in, Cats Lair... guess who?"
"Wilykat?" There was the sound of something falling over— a chair perhaps— before Panthro spoke again. "Hey there, son! We thought we lost communications! What a surprise..." He heard the PA system activate, his heart swelling with pleasure and pride at that word, and the rare note of disbelief and affection in his elder’s voice. He had been certain that Panthro would be angry with him; perhaps he was, but relief had the better of him now, and for that the young ThunderCat was grateful. "...Get in here quick, everyone! Wilykat’s on our comm channel!" It was switched off once more. "They’ll be here soon. How are you holding up out there?"
"I’m all right. I miss home though."
A rush of footsteps sounded on the other end. "We miss you too!" called Lion-O.
"I never noticed how quiet it is here when you’re not around, snarf snarf! It’s positively boring!"
"I trust Pumyra and Cheetara are there with you?" came Tygra’s deep, soothing voice.
"Yes," he replied, looking to each of them in turn. "They brought a communicator along, so—"
"Excuse me, lad, but you’ll have to hand that over immediately."
A pasty hand clamped onto Wilykat’s shoulder as the three ThunderCats looked up in shock. "Why? He’s having a harmless conversation," challenged the puma.
"Visitation was expressly restricted to the two of you. No one else."
"Do you see anyone else in here?"
"What my friend is trying to say," Cheetara stepped in before the other female’s temper could flare any further, "is that your concern is unreasonable. Why shouldn’t he be allowed to speak to our countrymen at home? They care about him, and—"
"Executive’s orders." He beckoned with his free hand. "Give it to me."
Wilykat’s eyes were wide open, but he seemed far away. He swallowed slowly, never bothering to close his slightly gaping mouth as he passed the communicator to the sentry with a startling air of capitulation. His elders looked on helplessly, wondering at the reaction at Cats Lair. Both of them half expected someone to fly off in a violent harangue of profanity and insults, but apparently they were keeping their heads too.
The guard abruptly turned the device over in his hand, ripped off the back paneling, and pulled at a few wires until they snapped from their connections. Neatly stowing away the confiscated item in a pocket, he spoke once more. "This visit is over. Kindly follow me, ladies."
"What!" Pumyra jumped to her feet. "Surely not because of that—"
"Your time duration has expired," he explained matter-of-factly.
Cheetara stood as well, eyes narrowed. "How very convenient," she fumed, not bothering to filter the contempt out of her tone.
"But... no!" The kitten stood with them, frantic as they each gave him a final, anguished hug and kiss before reluctantly stepping over the square couch. "I never got a chance to—"
"Perhaps another time." But the guard surely implied that there would be no other time. If he could help it, anyway.
He climbed over the couch as well, almost tripping in his frenzy. "Wait, not yet! I have to ask them something first!"
They lingered, turning to him.
"Move along!"
Even as the guard moved between them, he dodged and sidestepped this way and that imploringly, determined to see each of them eye-to-eye. "Have you visited Wilykit yet? Are you going to? I wanna know how she’s doing. Or... or tell her I think about her all the time, if you go to Seleya later."
The pained desperation on his face tore their hearts in two as they were ushered ever closer to the door. He could not go on like that. Cheetara reached a hand out to him ineffectively. "Kat... darling, they’ve lied to you. Wilykit is—"
"Forn awaits you down the hall in the large conference room. I shall be your escort."
With an over-the-shoulder, obliging glance at his young charge, the door opened and shut just as quickly, and they were gone. The boy stared after them, aching both in his head and his heart. Now there was something else— a new concern to plague his faltering resolve.
What lie?
***
"I trust you had a most enjoyable visit," greeted Forn cheerily, standing expectantly outside the double-doors flanked with sentries. For some reason he did not seem as snobbish to the women as he normally was with the men; then again, there was always the possibility that he was mocking them.
"Yes... but rather on the short side." The long, brisk walk had given Cheetara a better handle on her anger, but the assertion was strong all the same.
"Well, you must understand that we cannot keep these people waiting."
Pumyra frowned. "What people?"
The Executive gestured lamely to the two guards, who swiftly opened the double doors.
It was as though a star awaited them behind it. The indescribable luminosity of thousands of flashbulbs going off at once sent the unprepared ThunderCats reeling, shielding their eyes with their hands. "That is normal. Come along," he invited them, strolling within. Using their hands as blinders to everything except the floor, they followed, hearing the doors swing shut behind them.
Now the initial camera hysteria had died down, and the flashes came in frequent, but random bursts from all around. This was decidedly more tolerable, and the women could let their arms fall once more to their sides and observe their surroundings, although they were forced to do so through the purplish splotches that swam through their vision.
But for those tiny flecks of light, the place was essentially dark, except for a sparse lighted stage far below. Indeed, they were following Forn down a long, sloping ramp. "Large conference room" was certainly no misnomer; the place was an arena. Countless shadowy beings took up countless seats arranged in countless rows, and both Pumyra and Cheetara were faintly aware that all those hundreds of pairs of eyes were focused entirely on them. At least this time there were no questions, only hushed, excited whispers. There seemed to be a strange formality to this occasion. The pair continued with their trepidation safely out of sight, wondering silently about the stage— for surely that was where they were being taken— and what would be expected of them once they reached it.
None of them spoke until they were about half of the way toward the destination, and the newer ThunderCat was the one to break the silence. "I thought you sent all the newspersons away?" she addressed Forn.
"I sent away the uninvited ones."
Cheetara glanced in bewilderment at the back of his head. "Why would you arrange all this?"
He smiled over his shoulder at them nostalgically. "Very little remains of the culture of our First Earth brethren, but a few of the recording devices and information diffusion articles that we have managed to glean from the ruins remain with us even today. We hold one of their ancient proverbs especially dear in our hearts, and it answers your question quite precisely. It is this." He paused for the sheer drama of it. "‘Inquiring minds want to know.’ Remarkable, is it not? Beautiful in its simplicity, but significant on so many levels."
"Sounds pretty cut-and-dried to me— nothing more," muttered Pumyra in the cheetah’s ear.
"The people of Latcris hold nothing from one another," the leader continued proudly. "What one knows, all should know. That is only fair, after all."
"Doesn’t privacy mean anything to you?"
He turned around again, eyeing them warily. "I would not expect you to understand."
There was an unmistakable finality to his tone. The rest of the journey was uneventful. Before they knew it, the women were on the stage. The lights upon it had seemed gentle from afar; but at this range they were quite sharp, and emitted heat as profusely as a summer sun. As they squinted, feeling like mounted insects, Forn stepped up to the platform’s lone decoration: a wide podium with two microphones upon it. The flashes swarmed like a multitude of hyperactive fireflies. "Greetings, ladies and gentlemen. This press conference shall begin momentarily. "Due to the sheer popularity factor and time constraints, I have been forced to limit the number of questions to fifty."
Cheetara and Pumyra exchanged startled looks as roars of protest rose all around them. "Silence, please," the Executive continued in a vexed tone; but he waited patiently as the din grew attentive once more. "By random drawing, the selected rows are Q and AA. The questioning shall proceed from seat one to seat twenty-five, beginning with row Q." He turned and beckoned for the ThunderCats to replace him at the podium. They did so, slowly. Just before stepping aside, he announced, "Q-1, please lead us off."
They glanced at each other. This would be a long visit after all.
On to Chapter Six
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