Read A Sample: Chapter 3, Pages 15-16

Kirsten sensed his frustration, and put out her hand to help him. There was a noise behind her, and before she could turn, something hit the back of her head like an under inflated basketball. She screamed and grabbed it. Sharp claws pricked the scalp at her temples, and dug into her tunic, just above her shoulder blades. She stood dead still and held her breath, while disjointed, intense, alien fear washed over her.

"What's going on there, Newbie?" yelled the leader. "I said keep togeth … Company, halt!"

The command to halt was unnecessary. The cadets stood and gaped at the girl with the skeecat attached to her head. On instinct, Kirsten began an empath suppression drill. She stroked the animal's fur, and whispered to it in the tone she used on Frodo and Tigger when they were upset.

"It's OK, it's OK," she said. Gently she grasped the skeecat under the ribcage and lifted it slowly over her head.

A man shouted. Heavy boots pounded on pavement, and once more the claws were embedded in her head and back.

"Don't move, girl. Just stay calm," the man said. A burly lieutenant with a Shore Patrol arm band stood before her, his face moist and red.

"Don't move. Stay calm," he repeated.

"I was very calm before you ran up on me like that," she said, as softly as she could. The skeecat dug its claws in deeper. Kirsten closed her eyes and chanted, "It's OK. It's OK."

There were voices and footsteps behind her. "Here he is. Now keep it down and stand by," the SP lieutenant said.

Kirsten took a deep breath and peeled the skeecat off her head. She cuddled it while she focused her mind on images of quiet. The skeecat was much smaller than Pepper, but long and lean, with a coat of silky gray and brown fur. Kirsten's fingers quivered as she stroked the skeecat and stared into his eyes.

The lieutenant spun on his heel and saluted a woman behind him.

"What's the situation, Morgan?" the woman said.

"Sir. One of the skee yearlings pushed out a window in its isolation booth and escaped from the breeding lab. Before we could catch it or fog it, the little ba … beggar attacked one of the new cadets."

"He did what?" The woman shook her head. "Let's have a look."

Morgan stepped aside, and a tall woman with captain's crests on the epaulets of her undress blue uniform gazed at Kirsten. She had quick, dark eyes set into an attractive but very serious face, and her coffee-colored skin gleamed in the sunlight. Kirsten could feel the woman's confidence, and the confusion beneath it.

"What's you name, Cadet?" the woman said.

"Kirsten Carlson, ma'am," she said, and hugged the skeecat hard.

"Say 'sir' when addressing the Commandant," Morgan said.

"Skip it, Morgan," the woman said. "I'm Captain Modugu. I run this little brain trust."

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am … uh … Captain."

"Captain is fine," she said and grinned. "Do you know what you've got there?

"Yes, Captain. It's a skeecat. And it's really scared. Or was. Sir."

The woman's black eyes glistened. She put her fists on her hips, leaned back, and took a deep breath.

"What you have there, Carlson, is your very own skeecat. Or, to be more precise, you are holding the skeecat that owns you." She shook her head. "Let's take a walk. I want to continue this in my office."

Kirsten looked at the skeecat, and hot shivers lanced down her neck and into her arms. My very own skeecat, she thought. I can't believe it! She felt an echo of joy from the skeecat, and tears rolled down her face.

"Yes, ma'am," she said. Morgan scowled at her. She grinned and thought, Given a stiff breeze, I could FLY to your office!