Andrew Mackay: Infinity Claws

The noise continued. A striking ‘whump’ – like an excessive boom on a drum – shot through the screen.

Spooky the cat raised his eyes and shrieked. Samantha turned over her shoulder. “Bad cat.”

She hissed and settled into the prone position. Ready to attack anything that came into her proximity.

“What’s she doing?”

“I don’t know,” Samantha said, suddenly very nervous at their cat’s behavior.

“Spooky,” Rogan climbed off his mother’s lap and walked over to the cat. “What are you doing?”

“Tilt the camera down, Samantha,” Tripp said, putting two-plus-two together. “Is there anyone else there with you?”

“No,” Samantha said, watching her son approach the cat. “It’s just us.”

“Nothing unusual happening in the room?”

“It’s very unlike her,’ she mused, turning back to the screen. “Rogan?”

“Yes, mummy?”

“Be careful with her.”

Tripp watched the screen with great intent. Rogan approached Spooky, but felt as if he couldn’t get too close. The cat was incredibly pent-up and ready to launch at someone – anyone.

“Wait, wait,” Tripp looked up the ceiling and cleared his throat. “Manuel?”

“Yes, Tripp?”

“Play the message again, please.”

The book floated into Tripp’s hand. He looked at the page containing the image.

The transmission fired up again.

Static for the first two seconds.

The sound of an electric chord fired up.

And then – boom. A semi-pulsar throttle for two seconds.

Spooky shrieked once again, much to Samantha, Rogan and Tripp’s amazement.

“Her tail has gone bushy,” Samantha provided a commentary as the signal continued to play. “She’s upset.”

“Keep an eye on her,” Tripp pointed at the screen. “I’m curious to see something…”

The audio static dampened. The “chords” grew louder, followed by another thud.

Instead of shrieking, Spooky widened her eyes and let out a calm meow.

“What the…?” Samantha asked no-one in particular.

“Hey, Spooky,” Rogan crouched and offered her his hand. “Give me a cuddle.”

The cat turned to the hand and licked around its mouth. She thought over the opportunity for a hug for a few seconds.

The transmission static fizzed up once again, followed by a third and final “whump” – like that of a heartbeat.

Spooky jumped in the air and wailed, barely landing on her feet. The cat’s violent reaction caused Rogan and his mother to yelp back in fright.

Tripp could barely believe his eyes. Spooky rolled over and returned to her feet. The poor animal was exhausted. She trundled over to her favorite area of the carpet and rolled around, quite satisfied with herself.

Rogan and Samantha turned back to the screen, not knowing what to say or think.

“My God,” Tripp whispered to himself, focusing more on the family cat than his wife and son for the first time in his life. “What on Earth is going on with her?”

Every major city in every country held trials to find USARIC’s one perfect feline specimen.

The United Kingdom hopped onto the opportunity much like all the other nations on planet Earth.

One such venue in northwest London’s Chrome Valley was home to the company’s Star Cat program. It wasn’t the most attractive of venues. The CV Stadium was built in 2080 to house the valley’s once-promising soccer team. Shortly after relegation from First Division, and with the introduction of an altered ball, CVFC was no longer sponsor-worthy.

As such, the stadium lost the majority of its funding. The knock-on effect was disastrous. The ground became decrepit and unusable. The vagrant issue was rife because it provided shelter from the intensely hot summers and deadening winters.

The CV Stadium has been home to Star Cat Trials for the past four months. Just one of six locations within London alone.

There were at least two hundred people in line, all waiting with their pet cats in carry cases.

A mother-and-son pair were next in line for registration.

Five-year-old Jamie Anderson and his mother, Emily, approached the desk. Emily placed the plastic carriage on the counter.

The official looked up at Emily and smiled. ‘Name?’

“Emily Anderson—”

“—No, I’m sorry, I mean the cat’s name?”

“Oh,” Emily said, looking through the plastic bars. An orange face poked around, wanting to be set free. “Jelly.”

“Jelly?”

“Yes, Jelly Anderson.”

“Okay,” the official said, typing on her keyboard. She hit a button and the printer roared to life. “Jelly Anderson. Just peel off the back and attach it to the cage, if you would.”

Emily took strip of paper examined it. The cat’s name and a serial number adorned the front. She peeled the edge away and slapped the sticky end to the plastic top of the cage.

“Please go to the weigh-in, Mrs. Anderson.”

“Mum?” Jamie asked his mother as they entered a darkened causeway with many other families.

“Yes, poppet?”

“What happens if Jelly gets chosen?”

“I don’t think that will happen,” Emily said, looking up at the space-themed walls. “There are so many people hoping that their cat will win.”

“How many, mum?”

“I don’t know. Like, maybe millions?”

“Wow, that’s a lot.”

“We’d stand more chance of winning the lottery than Jelly being picked.”

Jamie walked alongside his pet in the cage. Due to his height – all four feet and one inch of it – he had a perfect view of Jelly swinging back and forth in her cage.

“It’s okay, Jelly,” Jamie smiled, “You’ll be fine.”

Jelly wasn’t terribly happy at the prospect of being put up for selection. Of course, she was a domestic house cat. But that was the point.

A man walking in front of Emily and her son shot them a grin. “Seems really stupid, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, I know,” Emily resigned herself to the fact that this whole endeavor was probably a bit silly.

“A complete waste of time. And space, probably.”

Emily smiled and nodded at the man’s cage. “What do you have?”

He lifted the cage and revealed his cat’s face. “Abyssinian. Her name is Trixie.”

“Aww, she’s lovely.”

“And yours?”

Jamie grabbed the cage and tried to lift it up. He barely managed it. “This is Jelly.”

“Oh. Cute cat.”

“Thanks,” Jamie passed the cage back to his mother. “We don’t think she’ll win, though.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“Because there are a million people all over the planet trying to win.”

“It’s a lot of money, though,” the man said with a smile, “And think of all the fame it will bring.”

Jamie looked up at Emily. “Mum, what is fame?”

“It’s when everyone knows who you are.”

“Wow. So, like, if someone’s cat wins, does that mean they will have lots of money and everyone will know them?”

“Yes, poppet.”

The line shuffled forward.

Emily and Jamie could see the weigh-in facility a few meters in the distance. The sheer volume of participants obstructed the view.

To entertain the masses in the dark tunnel, several giant TV screens hung on the walls, reminding them why they were there.

The Star Cat logo was typically futuristic, spinning around on its axis. Friendly music played over the screens as the logo disappeared. It was replaced by a bespectacled woman in a white suit standing in front of a night sky full of stars.

“Welcome to the Star Cat Trials, London Base Six. USARIC thanks you for taking the time to reach out to us and taking part in this historic event.”