Chapter 6: CAT!

Baby had been medically screened upon extraction and granted an implant. Initially, Dora accepted her as she would any other family member, and after some little experience, correctly interpreted Baby’s limited, but expressive vocabulary. Soon, Dora was fascinated -- one could even say she was obsessed -- with Baby. After all, Baby was the first Earth non-human of Dora’s, most AIs’ for that matter, experience.

As most people owned by cats know, if you talk to cats, they talk to you. For example, Baby originally walked through the family’s quarters calling, “Merooow,” or “Meruuuw.” The first meant ‘Mom-Hannah?’ and the second ‘Mom-Cathleen?’ It didn’t take any time at all for “Maaoow?” to mean ‘Mom-Dora?’ Baby became a very pampered kitty.

Baby’s litter was never dirty; her water bowl was never empty of fresh water; and when she was hungry, her food dish always magically filled with her meal choice du jour. Dora also sneaked her kitty treats, and scratching posts appeared whenever and wherever Baby had the urge. Maybe spoiled would have been a better adjective than pampered, but Baby was a nice kitty and above spoiling. She just accepted her due like any other royalty...

The addition of more teens and preteens to the family had increased the morning breakfast puns exponentially.

Hannah, “Why do chicken coops only have two doors?”

Victor, “Because if they had four doors, they would be a chicken sedan.”

Various shades of laughter from the younger set, groans from the elders present.

“Merooow,” Baby announced herself as she walked through, tail flicking, to rub against Hannah’s ankles under the table, “Pffft, pffft, pffft, pffft!”

“Oh my,” Hannah observed aloud, “Baby’s in heat. She needs to get laid!” Then she giggled.

Not to be outdone, the whole cadre of teens and preteens launched a project to acquire a feline stud for Baby.

“Clearly, before we can extract him, we have to know his CAT score,” came Carley’s first contribution. “Dora, please take note,” she added unnecessarily. “So what are the important elements?” she asked the group.

“Capable of fathering kittens with no bad recessive genes has to be most important, so that is a big part of the ‘C’,” came from Valerie, who was increasingly preoccupied with sex and anxiously waiting for her own first time.

“I think he should know when someone needs comforting and be able to snuggle up and provide it,” injected Naomi.

Other ideas were presented; then Rosa said, “his ‘attitude,’ he has to be brave and protective and tolerant -- especially of children -- and he must like people, but we don’t want a slut kitty demanding attention all the time.” Now where had she picked up that concept?

Then the other Owen twin, Harriet, chimed in, “He needs to be a fierce hunter in case we get mice. We had a friend with a lazy cat that just liked to watch mice in their house.”

More discussion. Rachel, wandering through, listened for a few minutes and added, “Make sure he doesn’t claw the furniture. If he already uses a scratching post, that would be best. I suppose Dora can fix any spraying problem, but except for the protecting part, he shouldn’t be too territorial.”

Another round of suggestions ended with one from Hannah, “I really agree, that he has to be tolerant. No matter where he is, there are going to be LOTS of small children and maybe other pets.” She thoughtfully asked, “Is he going to stay with us? I suppose it depends if he comes with a family -- he should stay with them if he does.”

<Dora, > Hannah continued, <none of the toms at my old house match that criteria. Look through our database of possible upcoming rescue extractions. Check with your drone history and see if any of them have a tomcat that might meet the criteria you heard us discussing, then let’s think about organizing a quick mission.> <Done, > came the reply. Then aloud, “There is a high CAT scoring tom in a very unusual situation. His name is Eminence, and he resides with a somewhat Firster family on an isolated farm not far from the projected advance of the Sa’arm.” Dora’s phrasing clearly indicated her mastery of cat etiquette.

<Oops, looks like you have an urgent mission for that one, > Dora started, then switched back to direct communication with all present. “You will be in US marshal role, it is the Pixie’s turn in the team leader role, and there are five little ones -- it appears that an all-girl team is warranted. Let’s add Rachel, Cathleen, Mandy, Yasmin, and Carole. Ginger heads up the home support, Patricia heads the reserves -- Birdie and Billie are on her team...

“I’ll notify Randy and Papa Sam while you saddle up. The armory is open. Standard sidearms and long guns -- more for humans and not Sa’arm. Temperature is around twenty, so warm clothes and survival packs.”

The team was busy while Dora continued. “Here’s the situation: The family consists of husband and wife, five children, three of them preschool, and a twelve-year-old live-in that they use for a baby sitter. Mom and Dad left home yesterday to go look at the Sa’arm, about fifty miles away -- the drone did not hear why. Sa’arm units suddenly changed direction about an hour ago and are headed towards the farm. There is a high probability that one or both parents fired on the Sa’arm and became Swarm chow.”

Dora’s briefing continued, “Scorched earth bombing has commenced and will reach the house in less than five hours. Your mission is to get the kids out -- parents as well, if they return. You need to get in and get out. Be more concerned about returning armed parents than Sa’arm. A transporter was dropped behind the barn by a drone, and I will activate it when you are ready.”

The team was ready, checked, and transported within twenty minutes. It could have been half that, but there was no need for that much haste. Hannah was first on the ground and visually swept the area before having Dora prompt Rachel through. As four sorties of Warthogs roared over, the two took opposite corners of the barn and looked around. Still nothing, so the remainder of the team appeared and spread out to check the area with Dora watching through several drones.

When they were satisfied the farm was clear, Hannah and Carole approached the farmhouse, while the others remained ready to respond to any trouble.

Hannah removed her knit hat, took a deep breath, and pressed the button for the doorbell. When there was no response, she knocked. In moments a young girl opened the door with a toddler in her arms and another clinging to her legs. A girl of four or five stood holding a large tomcat in both arms. The cat was draped over her shoulder, patiently waiting for release. He was NOT purring.

“Misty Rhoads?” Hannah inquired. Receiving a nod, she continued, “My name is Hannah. I’m a US marshal. The Sa’arm are on the way here, and my team was sent to get you away.”

“Thank goodness you’re here,” replied the girl. “Mister and Miz Jenkins left yesterday to see what the Sa’arm things were up to. They were supposed to be back last night, but they never came. Usually, they check in by CB, but they didn’t do that either. I didn’t know what to do but keep up with the young’uns, and they are about to drive me crazy!”