Andrew Mackay: Infinity Claws

Jelly, however, remained calm and refined. It was almost as if she refused to bow down to her feline stereotype.

“Just through here, please.” The technician walked the pair into the first Quadrant and put Jamie at ease. “So, exciting day today, huh?”

“Yes. My cat made it.”

“What’s her name?”

“Jelly.”

“Oh, cool. After the movie?”

“Yes, Star Jelly is my favorite,” Jamie said as the technician pushed a button on the wall. The door to booth eighteen slid open.

“Wow.”

The individual preparation chambers measured twelve by ten feet. The bank sitting in the middle of the room contained a desk and a computer. It must have seemed vaguely threatening to the untrained eye.

It certainly caused consternation in the overactive mind of a five-year-old boy. Jamie had second thoughts about the place.

The technician clocked Jelly’s name on attached to her cage.

“ Jelly ?”

“Yes, mister.”

“Funny name for a cat, isn’t it?”

“She’s named after my favorite film.”

“Ah, Star Jelly ?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.” The technician pointed at the padded bank. Whatever was about to happen would at least be conducted in relative comfort for his cat.

Emily placed the cage on the surface and unclipped the plastic housing cage.

“Come on, Jelly,” Jamie said, beckoning her forward.

She wouldn’t move.

“Not very obedient, is she?”

“She’s a cat, mister.”

“Come on, girl,” Emily poked her face through the cage. “It’s okay.”

Jelly let out a whine, never tearing her gaze away from the computer and wires coming from the front compartment.

Emily lost her temper. “You’re testing my patience, puss.”

“Mom, wait. Let me try.”

Jamie lowered his head and widened his eyes. Jelly tore her gaze away from the dreaded computer and looked him dead in the retinas.

“What’s wrong, Jelly?”

Her pupils dilated and turned a stale yellow. She groaned and lowered her head.

“Jelly, girl. Gimme paw.”

Jamie knew how to get the better of his feline friend. He held out the back of his hand with his fingers closed together.

It did the trick.

Jelly couldn’t resist moving forward and head-butting his hand. It was enough for Jamie’s hand to slide along her wonderfully silken coat and gently bring her out of the cage. “There we go.”

Jelly plonked herself on the padded surface and wasted no time in checking out her surroundings.

Not terribly much to see upon initial viewing. Four walls, a bright fluorescent bulb on the ceiling and three humans smiling back at her.

The technician hit a button on the console. The screen jumped to life which, in turn, made Jelly jump back.

Three rows appeared on screen, each of them waiting for a connection to their subject.

The technician slid his hand under Jelly’s stomach and brought her over to the wires. “We’ll get her hooked up and we’ll see what’s doing.”

“Paw,” Jamie said, holding out his hand. Jelly looked at his palm and sniffed around. “Gimme paw, girl.”

She did as instructed. It was enough for the technician to attach the connected band around her wrist.

“Can you hold her for me, please?” the technician asked.

“Sure.”

Jelly trundled into his Jamie’s arms. The second she relaxed, she knew something was amiss.

“Meow,” Jelly said, her body starting to vibrate.

The first row pinged to life, measuring her heart-rate.

Bip… bip… bip…

“Steady, steady,” the technician looked at his transparent tablet and made a note on the screen. “That’s good, a constant fifty-five BPM.”

“What are you doing, mister?” Jamie asked, keeping Jelly pinned to the surface.

“We need to make sure Jelly, here, is fit for the trials. The good news is that her heartbeat is regular. I see she weighs three point nine kilos, which is what we want.”

A commotion came from outside the room.

Jamie, Emily and the technician turned to look through the window in the door. They saw a man pacing around, running his hands through his chair. “Oh, no!”

“I’m sorry, sir,” a female technician approached him, carrying an unconscious cat in her arms. “I can assure you, she’ll be fine.”

“What did you do?”

“She’s allergic to the computer. I’m afraid we’ll have to send her to the recovery room.”

The technician followed the man away from the door to a crowd of petrified onlookers.

“Oh no,” Jamie said. “What happened?”

“Allergies,” the technician said, “Some participants have undiscovered allergies picked up by the computer. Some are allergic to the chip we need to install, so it’s better we know now before we commit.”

“I don’t know what that means? A chip?”

“Look,” the technician pointed to Jelly, who had a synthetic cap stretched around the top of her head. “See this?”

“Yes.”

“Look at the screen.”

An imprint of Jelly’s brain glowed on screen in various colors. “These are all the lobes in Jelly’s brain. No sign of any damage, which is good.”

He pointed at the front of the image. “This is the frontal lobe, the part of the brain that acts as a sonar. Over here in the middle is the sleep center, which is slightly smaller than usual. The back of the brain is very active.”

“What does that do?”

“Is Jelly protective of you and your house?”

“Yes, but we don’t live in a house. We live in an apartment. She’s always looking for things to fight with.”

“Makes sense. This is the area of the brain that lets her fight and mark her territory.”

The technician looked at Jelly. She screwed her face back at him, unhappy with the intrusion on her privacy.

“Well done, Jelly.” The technician reached under the console and hit a button.

The screen went dead and slid up, revealing a black metal cage. He pulled it forward and opened the door.

“What happens now?” Emily asked.

“Well, she’s fit to take part in the trials.”

The technician removed Jelly’s cap and wristband. He covered her face with his palm and pushed her backwards.

“Hey,” Jamie got defensive. “Don’t do that.”

“I need to get her into the box.”

Jelly clawed back at the technician, having no choice but to walk backwards. “That’s right, Jelly. In you go.”

“Stop that,” Jamie grabbed the man’s arm, “She’ll go in herself.”

“Sorry, no. We can’t take the risk,” the technician placed his hand on the box to stop it from running backwards. “Look at her, she’s already fighting back.”

“That’s because you’re forcing her.”

“Poppet, let the man do his thing.”

“But—”

Jelly whined. A final attempt to claw the technician’s hand as it left her face was thwarted when he shut the door.

A whirring noise from behind the screen started up. Behind it, a mini conveyor belt traveled backwards, much like a baggage delivery system at an airport.

“Bon voyage, and good luck,” the technician said, waving at Jelly.

Jelly’s disillusionment was matched by Jamie’s.

She placed her paw on the glass door, begging for Jamie to reach out.

“Jelly…”

“Poppet, it’s okay. She’s perfectly safe.”

“But, but…”

Jelly meowed as her cage rolled backwards along the belt and into the darkness.

“It’s okay, Jamie,” the technician said, “You’ll see her out in the arena in about half an hour. She’s perfectly safe, I can assure you.”

Jamie was convinced. For the first time in his young life, his best friend had abandoned him.