Эндрю Маккей: Star Cat: War Mage

“Sorry.”

Jaycee thumped the cabinet. A slit formed on the wall, producing a plastic handle, “Stand back, girl.”

He yanked a blast sheet out. The USARIC logo stretched out across its surface. He pointed at its circular target and bullseye, “Now, see that little notch at the end of the gun?”

She closed one eye and looked down the sight, “Yeah?”

“Match it up to the red dot in the middle of the circle.”

She did as instructed. Jaycee turned to her and raised his eyebrows. “Jesus, Jelly. You’ve grown .”

“Everyone’s been saying that. I’m a big girl, now,” she said. “Can I shoot it?”

“Yes, wait a second. I’ll just take a few steps back—”

THRAA-AA-ATT!

The first bullet hit the red dot. The rest snaked their way up the blast sheet and popped a hole in the middle of the “A’ of USARIC.

“—Whoa, Jelly,” Jaycee picked himself up from the floor and shook his head. “Never, ever shoot until I tell you it’s okay.”

“But you said ‘yes’?”

“I know I did, but I didn’t mean to fire.”

Jelly thumped the side lever down and took aim at the blast sheet once again, “Well, you should be more careful next time—”

“—You should be more careful next time,” Bonnie grabbed hold of the punching bag as Jelly waved the pain away from her claw, “You can’t just keep punching over and over again. I don’t care how angry you are.”

Jelly squinted at Bonnie with evil in her eyes, “I was taking out the trash. Bonnie .”

“Don’t look at me in that tone of voice, young lady. You’re not getting so big that I can’t kick your furry little behind all over this place, you know.”

“I can do what I like,” Jelly growled and licked her infinity claws. She spat the liquid on her tongue at the USARIC logo on the mat.

“Ugh,” she winced, “Tastes like zinc.”

“Never lick your wounds, sweetie. It doesn’t suit you.”

“Force of habit,” Jelly said. “And, strange things happen when I try to clean myself.”

“What do you mean?” Bonnie asked.

“Mommy said I have to use the bathroom like everyone else.”

“Wool said that? Because you can’t fit in your tray, anymore?”

“It’s too small,” Jelly tapped the side of the bag with her paws, “I have to stand in that stupid spraying water like humans do to clean myself.”

“It’s not stupid, sweetie. It’s a shower,” Bonnie let go of the bag and took a few steps back, “It’s how we clean ourselves.”

Jelly struck the bag with her claws, bursting the skin. A tuft of horsehair poked out.

“It’s disgusting,” she said. “It’s more hygienic to use your own saliva and rub yourself down.”

Bonnie giggled and pointed at Jelly’s paws, “Concentrate, sweetie. Remember, keep your left paw up, and wait for them to strike. One-two, duck, and upper-cut. Use your claws.”

“One-two,” Jelly jabbed her left paw forward, “back, and upper cut,” she finished with a swish to the bag’s mid-section.

“If you ever find yourself without a weapon, you’ll need to take them off-guard.”

Jelly sneered at the bag, “Come and get me, bad guy. Step forward—”

Wool ran her detached thumbnail across the wall above Jelly’s head. She looked up at her ‘mommy’s’ elbow.

“Okay, step forward, honey,” Wool rocked to her heels and took a step back. A white light raced down the wall and hit the floor. It recorded the distance – five feet and four inches.

“In the past twelve hours you’ve gained two feet,” Wool looked at her forearm and spoke into her wrist, “Time check, please.”

The three black lines bent around and formed the current time on her skin – 20:00 .

“It’s dinner time,” Wool looked at Jelly, “You’re nearly as tall as I am.”

“How tall are you, mommy?”

“Five foot six.”

Jelly extended her infinity claws and moved them from her own forehead to Wool’s.

“We’re nearly the same height.”

“That’s what I just said.” Wool experienced a sense of impending dread she’d never felt before. Standing in front of her was someone she’d grown to love. Quite literally. Adjusting to Jelly’s new height, the unthinkable crept through Wool’s mind.

She was smarter, now, but her instincts and attitude remained the same.

Could Jelly be trusted? Who’s to say she wouldn’t turn on her crew? The ramifications of Jelly’s progress – or evolution – were too terrifying to comprehend. None of this was lost on Wool.

“Honey?”

“Yes, mommy?”

“Would you ever hurt me?”

Jelly thought about her answer for a moment. Each second that trundled by perturbed Wool even more. Surely the cat should have said yes in an instant. The delay in answering was too much to bear.

“B-Because, y-you know I’d never—”

“—You’re scared, mommy.”

Jelly hung her paws by her side and took some offense, “Don’t be scared.”

“I j-just need to be able to trust you, honey. We all d-do.”

“Why are you st-stuttering?” Jelly clenched her fists, thinking the woman was making fun of her.

“I’m n-not.”

“Y-Yes, you are,” Jelly turned her back on Wool and made for the door, “Feeding time. Are you c-coming?”

“Yes.”

Jaycee, Tripp, Bonnie, and Wool sat around the central mess hall table eating their stewed dinner from paper plates.

Cups of fresh water and a large, half-full jug took place in the middle of the table.

Dinah Washington’s What A Diff’rence A Day Makes provided the perfect background soundtrack for their dining.

“I miss the taste of real food,” Wool held her hair back as she leaned in to slurp the stew on her spoon, “What is this, anyway?”

“I think it’s essentially some sort of beef,” Tripp took a bite and chewed it around, “Mmm, not bad actually.”

All eyes turned to Jelly at the head of the table, struggling with her spoon. Anyone who hadn’t met her would swear she was eighteen-years-old by this point.

“How are you getting on, Jelly? Gotten used to the spoon, yet?”

“My claws are getting in the way,” she complained and dropped the spoon on the floor. “I don’t like cutlery.”

Jaycee chuckled to himself, “Ha. Well, you can always—”

Jelly pressed her chin to the plate and licked at the chunk of jellied chicken pâté.”

“Or you could do that, instead.”

Wool lifted the jug and poured herself a cup of water, “Leave her alone, Jaycee. She’s had a rough day.”

“Miew,” Jelly’s ears pricked up at Wool’s cup at the edge of the table. Bonnie watched the girl’s infinity claws expand.

“Jelly, what are you--”

“—Meow.”

SWISH-SWIPE!

She knocked the cup of water off the table. The water splashed across the floor.

“Oh, now look what you’ve done,” Wool huffed and tore a piece of towel from the middle of the table, “You know, you should really clean this up.”

“No, I shouldn’t, mommy. You should,” Jelly swung her head left and right, satisfied at having carried out her instinctive objective.

Tor walked into the room and placed his right hand on his hip, “Hey, Jaycee?”

“Huh?” The big man turned to look at him, “What’s up, comrade ?”

Tor pointed to the hunk of metal around his neck, “I did what you asked. I taught her as much English as I could. It went well. Now can you please take this damn device off?”