Paul Di Filippo - WikiWorld

“Once I discovered the existence of these Cat Women, I was able to establish two-way mental communication with Alpha, their leader. Boastfully, she revealed their full plans and intentions to me. I believe the loneliness of the Cat Women and their eagerness for contact inspired Alpha’s loquacity.

“In any case, here is their intent. By fomenting an internecine war between Earth’s men and women, they will weaken us to the point where the Cat Women can establish themselves as rulers of a wholly female globe, forsaking their sterile orb for our own fertile paradise.”

President Ponto cleared his throat in polite dissent. “This presupposes, Miss Bradley, that your sex would prove victorious in such a combat.”

Jungle Alli grinned fiercely, and although her teeth were no longer filed to points, both men experienced an impression of cannibalistic fervour. “Trust me, sir, we would. But please, I ask you, put aside all such chauvinistic quibbles and focus on the true import of my revelations. We are at war with a determined enemy, and we must take action!”

Mr. Ponto spoke. “Why is it only now that these hypothetical Cat Women have launched their attack?”

“It is our own hubris in moving the Moon so close to us!” responded Jungle Alli. “Previously, the vast distance between our spheres acted as a cosmic quarantine. Their mental powers were insufficient to bridge the gap.”

President Ponto said, “All of this is so hard to credit. How can we possibly announce such an unlikely threat? Without proof, the practically minded populace would rightfully dismiss us out of hand. It would be akin to asking people to believe one of Mr. Verne or Mr. Robida’s fantasies.”

“Actually, we would not want to make a general announcement,” Jungle Alli countered. “It would provoke a panic, and possibly force the hand of the Cat Women. They might forego subtlety and simply derange the minds of millions of women into a murderous rage. No, we must make an assault against the Cat Women under cover of a natural commercial impulse to integrate the Moon into Helenia’s economy.”

Now President Ponto finally balked, his immense respect for Jungle Alli counterbalanced by his stewardship of the infant nation and its resources.

“Miss Bradley, I am afraid I cannot commit my country’s resources to such an unsupported crusade against imaginary enemies—”

Jungle Alli stood up. “Unsupported? Imaginary? Very well. You force my hand. I had not wanted to risk this. But it seems necessary now.” Withdrawing one of her pistols from its holster—causing both men to blanch—Jungle Alli called out, “Alpha, appear! I summon you!”

Instantly, a fourth figure occupied the room.

The newcomer was a statuesque woman of immense beauty, clad in a black leotard that revealed every inch of her curvaceous figure. Her eyes were heavily kohl-lined, her painted lips cruel. Her dark hair was gathered up into an elaborate hive. Golden slave bracelets adorned her biceps.

“You dare!” said the Cat Woman known as Alpha.

“Let us end this here and now,” replied Jungle Alli, and fired!

The bullet passed through empty space, smashing a narrow channel through a thick window. A thin stream of wind whistled from the pressurized interior of the building.

Alpha the Cat Woman had dematerialized in the instant Jungle Alli pulled her trigger, and reappeared on the far side of the chamber. The face of the Selene female was intensely wrathful.

“Your powers of mind are formidable, Alice Bradley! For an Earthwoman! You were able to take me unawares this time. But do not count on being able to do so again!”

And with that, Alpha the Cat Woman vanished entirely.

Jungle Alli reholstered her smoking pistol. “Gentlemen, do you grant credence to my story now?”

With shaking hands, President Ponto dabbed with a handkerchief at his wet trousers where he had spilled his pousse-café.

“Miss Bradley, the full energies of Helenia and its people are at your disposal.”

The first of many official banquets meant to celebrate the birth of the new continent and scheduled for the upcoming week was held that very night in the Hall of Wonders. Larger than the largest aerostat hangar, the glass-and-cast-iron Hall of Wonders was filled with statues and paintings illustrating the tremendous progress made during the illustrious twentieth century. Recorded in pictorial form were the invention of the conglomerate paper that substituted for wood; the parachute-belt; the chair-barricade; and so forth in a panoply of human ingenuity.

But even this extravagant exhibition did not preclude the temporary use of the Hall to hold hundreds of tables, topped with linens, crystal goblets, fine china and silver, all capturing glints from the many electric chandeliers.

At each place sat one of the many dignitaries who had voyaged hither for the ceremonies, patrician men and women from every nation of the globe, the “movers and shakers” of the new age.

At the head table, raised above the others on a dais, sat President Ponto and First Lady Hélène. Adjacent to the President sat his father and mother. At Hélène’s elbow, Jungle Alli. The rest of the table was occupied by various officeholders of Helenia.

Focused on the table were a dozen telephonoscopic cameras, relaying the doings on the dais to a hundred screens set up throughout the Hall, thus providing a sense of intimacy for all attendees, however remote, with the doings at the Presidential table. Smaller screens at intervals conveyed the entertaining image and sound from a brilliant symphony orchestra.

The banquet commenced sharply at eight, after a rousing champagne toast. Thousands of servitors drew comestibles from the taps scattered throughout the Hall, ferrying steaming, deliciously prepared squab, pork medallions, sausages and other delights to the eager diners. Jollity and bonhomie, fueled by fine wines, reigned throughout the chamber. Although, truth be told, had anyone been in the frame of mind to scrutinize objectively the visages of President and Mr. Ponto, they might have detected a certain sham brittleness to their conviviality, as if the men were masking deeper concerns.

Likewise, the charming face of Hélène showed a certain distracted slackness and preoccupied inwardness.

This suspicious catatonia on the part of one so close to the powerful President of Helenia did not go unremarked by the perceptive Jungle Alli.

“Mrs. Ponto,” said the adventurer gallantly and ingenuously, so low that only the two of them could hear, “your sweet face should be shining at this victorious hour with exuberance and animation. Instead, it is beclouded with melancholy.”

With a visible effort, Hélène responded agreeably. “Please, call me Hélène. ‘Mrs. Ponto’ is my mother-in-law.”

“And you may call me Alice. Well, Hélène, what troubles you? A burden shared is a burden lessened.”

Hélène’s brow furrowed. “It—it is hard to describe. Of late I have been pestered with odd notions. An angry unease with my husband—for no reason at all. And a sense that some imminent salvation is coming from—from the skies. I have no basis for either sensation—and yet they are intensely real to me. Is that not absurd?”

Jungle Alli laid a hand atop one of Hélène’s and captured the younger woman’s gaze with a fervent directness. “Do not ask me how, but I know these symptoms, and I believe I may be able to help you overcome them.”

Hélène smiled broadly and genuinely for the first time that day. “Oh, Alice, if only you could! I would be forever in your debt…”

“We will discuss this more, later this evening. But for now, try to enjoy the occasion. I believe you will be surprised by the announcement that your husband has planned, and which I am privy to.”