Star Cat: Origins Page 2

  He and Bonnie lifted into the air.

  "Just breathe," Bonnie spun her body around and planted the soles of her bare feet - one human, the other, Titanium - against the graffiti of the hammer on the wall. "You can’t just float there like a useless gas. You’ll never be able to move."

  "What?"

  "First rule, Jaycee," Bonnie bent her legs and booted herself away from the wall, headed toward Jaycee at speed. "Never linger."

  Jaycee had no choice but to keep still and watch Bonnie fly toward him. She pulled her fist back and punched him across the face.

  "Yaow!" Jaycee flew backwards and crashed against the wall. Bonnie turned her body one-hundred-and-eighty-degrees and planted her feet against two of the white stars on the wall.

  "You hit me!" Jaycee wiped his lips and inspected his finger. A small blob of blood ran down the side and drifted across the air.

  "Yeah, that’s kinda the idea," Bonnie kicked herself away from the wall and somersaulted around. "As long as you have movement, you won’t be a sitting duck."

  "Gotcha," Jaycee pressed his hands against the wall and pushed himself toward Bonnie. "Get some of this."

  "I can take it, Jaycee," she said, raising her arms, ready for his dropkick, "Give me everything you got, big boy."

  Jaycee looked down the length of his body and pulled his knees up to his chest. Bonnie screamed ever closer as he prepared to kick his feet out and boot her in the chest.

  He pushed his feet out, straightening his body, inches away from making contact with her.

  She threw her arms out in a butterfly motion and flipped her body upside down. Jaycee’s dropkick missed its target.

  "You have a year till Opera Beta launches," Bonnie kicked him between the shoulder blades, forcing him against the door. “You think you can attain League One by then?”

  "Oww!" he said, pushing himself away. "Stop doing that."

  "Question for you," Bonnie prepared herself for another lunge and licked her lips. "If you can’t hack it in training, what are you gonna do when the bad guys come around?"

  "I’ll let you take care of them," Jaycee said, reaching into his combat skin pants sleeve.

  “Take care of them?” Bonnie giggled and slammed his shoulders against the wall once again, making her point. “What if that stupid cat USARIC hires suddenly turns on you?”

  “I’m not afraid of a stupid animal,” Jaycee said through his wincing. "Although, I do wonder about something."

  "Yeah?" Bonnie slammed her right fist into her left hand, wanting more action. "And what’s that?"

  Jaycee retrieved a small weapon from his pocket, resembling a mini-gun. A device just small enough to fit comfortably in his gloved hand. "How a Jitsaku master can handle a bullet in zero gravity?"

  Bonnie raised her eyes and held up her hands. She didn’t want Jaycee to shoot her. "That’s not a fair challenge."

  "Question for you," Jaycee’s visor slipped a nanometer to the right of his face and aligned itself with the crosshair on his gun. "You’re stuck in zero gravity with a tango, and he has a Rez-9 projectile with an extended clip point at you."

  "What of it?"

  "How does a League One Jitsaku master get out of that?"

  Bonnie kept her hands in the air. "Oh, that’s easy."

  "Yeah?" Jaycee placed his finger on the trigger. "How so?"

  "Never confuse anti gravity with zero gravity."

  "What?"

  Bonnie ran down the wall and pushed herself forward nanoseconds before Jaycee pulled the trigger. The gun sparked in his hand, firing the bullet. The projectile, however, didn’t leave the barrel. Instead, it just stayed within the device, refusing to move. Jaycee inspected the chamber, giving Bonnie enough time to kick the gun from his hand.

  "Hey, genius," Bonnie followed up her kick with and boot to the chest with her new titanium leg. "Think you can defy Newton and get away with it?"

  Jaycee’s body - and his K-Twelve gun - tumbled in an awkward race to the red and white wall. "Ooof."

  Bonnie kicked herself upright and hovered by her blue wall. She found Jaycee’s humiliation quite funny. "Tell me something about yourself you don’t want anyone to know."

  "Like what?" Jaycee asked, confused.

  "I don’t know. Something you’re embarrassed about?"

  He shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno. I don’t get embarrassed."

  Bonnie’s temper began to wane. "Damn it, that’s not good enough." She thumped the wall in anger.

  "What’s wrong with you, Bonnie?"

  "Shut up," she said, trying to calm down. "I’m going to tell you something about me I’d rather you didn’t know. And then you’re going to use it against me."

  "What?"

  "I remember nothing about my past—"

  "—What?" Jayce noticed Bonnie trying to enrage herself. She closed her eyes and recounted a story she’d rehearsed in her mind a million times before.

  "I can see images. Of people I don’t remember. They feel real, like they are a part of me. But I don’t remember them—"

  "—No, no," Jaycee held out his hands and begged her to stop. "Don’t tell me the story, this isn’t fair—"

  Bonnie ignored him and exhaled, fueling the anger in her heart.

  "Do you know what it’s like? To fail to recall anything in your past?" She sniggered evilly to herself, keeping her eyes shut, deliberately riling herself into a frenzy. "It’s amaziant, isn’t it?"

  "Wh-what’s amaziant?" Jaycee knew his doom approached quicker than any notion of escape.

  "We’ve sent beings into space. Made discoveries in the past one hundred years that no-one could have ever imagined. Yet, we can’t cure the common cold."

  "Amen to that," Jaycee tried to relate to her thinking, hoping it wouldn’t get him hurt too badly.

  "And now USARIC wants to send a stupid cat up there with us? Are they out of their tiny little minds?"

  "I know, it’s ridiculous," Jaycee gulped as he saw Bonnie’s eyelids lift to reveal her pure red pupils.

  "Say something to upset me, Jaycee."

  "N-No."

  "Say it," Bonnie lifted her right arm across her chest, protecting her heart. "Say something you’ll regret."

  "No."

  "I’ll hurt you if you don’t do what I’ve asked,” she fumed, ready for war. “Now, say it."

  "You’ll hurt me if I will."

  "Say it."

  "Your…" Jaycee whimpered and closed his eyes, succumbing to her demand. "You’ve got amnesia. You’re unlike any human being I’ve ever met, that’s for sure."

  Bonnie closed her eyes again and smiled for the last time. "That’s what I needed to hear…" She lifted both her knees to her chest as she hung in the air.

  Jaycee kicked himself away from the wall and approached her. Thankfully, the ruse was over and she had proved her point - whatever the point was.

  "Bonnie?"

  She opened her eyes and screamed, startling Jaycee.

  A right hook across his jaw, followed by three left strikes to the gut, sent him back. Bonnie twisted around and kicked him in the chest, denting his armor.

  Jaycee crashed shoulder-first against the wall in pain.

  Bonnie’s chest heaved in and out in a fit of rage. "Don’t ever talk about my family." She snapped her fingers and slapped the side of her thigh.

  The anti gravity evaporated from the room, lowering them to the ground.

  Jaycee climbed to his feet in agony. "Have you finished?"

  "Okay, that’s your training over for today," Bonnie took a deep breath and turned to Jaycee, satisfied. "So, what have you learned today?"

  Jaycee brushed his arms down and tried to arch his back. "Never to screw around with a League One in Jitsaku?"

  "Not just a pretty, well-built face."

  Bonnie turned around and hit the panel on the door. It slid open, allowing her out of the fight room. She threw Jaycee a stern look as she made her way out.

  "And don’t ever, ever point
your firearm at the people you work with."

  CHAPTER THREE

  As One Door Closes...

  Waddling Gate Hospice

  Chrome Valley West

  Jamie hated the hospice. The strange-smell that came from the inordinately clean corridors. Harsh fluorescent lighting never failed to make him squint in pain.

  Of course, there were the freaky-looking nurses all dressed in white, as well.

  Every corridor contained a door.

  Every door contained at least four hospital beds with the sick and dying. They were attached to tubes and stupid machines that buzzed and bleeped.

  Occasionally, someone died. The hospice did their best to conceal the fact that they were moving the deceased to their final resting place.

  One thing kept Jamie and his mother coming back each day, however. Alex, Jamie’s dad. Aged just thirty-six, he’d succumbed to inoperable pancreatic cancer. It was diagnosed too late.

  If this had been one hundred years ago, or thereabouts, he might have stood a sliver of a chance for survival. But, in 2117 - coincidentally, twentieth anniversary of the abolition of the National Health Provision - his national insurance didn’t cover the cost of treatment.

  It was due to the charity of their friends that he was able to afford the price of palliative care. Emily considered it something of a mercy that the money they’ve received would far outlive her husband, such was his physical and mental state.

  "Dad?"

  Alex lifted his eyelids. It was that time of day again - the hour he most looked forward to. The sight of his son.

  He shifted his head and tried to smile through his breathing apparatus.

  "Hey, poppet," he tried, slowly. "How are you?"

  Emily watched Jamie do what he always did after announcing himself. He took his father’s hand in his and gave it the hardest squeeze he could.

  "Just making sure you’re still alive."

  Alex would have laughed like a hyena at Jamie’s frankness. Instead, he let out a raspy cough.

  One day, Jamie would get his Dad to laugh again.

  "I heard you got a new friend today?" Alex cleared his throat and shifted up his pillow in an attempt to get comfortable.

  "Yes, she’s a girl cat. But the people here won’t let her come to see you."

  "Oh."

  Jamie rolled up the sleeve on his left arm. "So, I took a holoprint of her so you can see her."

  Alex averted his eyes to the inked imprint on his son’s forearm. The black lines moved around and formed a near-perfect rendition of Jelly’s face.

  "She’s beautiful," Alex said. "Did you give her a name, yet?"

  "Yes. Her name is Jelly. All my Individimedia magnets love her, too. They’ve been showing me pictures of their cats."

  Jamie smeared the ink out from his skin. The image of Jelly restored itself to three, thick lines as he rolled his sleeved back up.

  Alex’s breathing grew louder and raspier. His eyes had turned a reddish-pink. Jamie caught sight of them as his father lowered his eyelids.

  "Why are your eyes pink, Dad?"

  "Poppet," Emily whispered, trying not to get too emotional. "I think Dad just wants to sleep for a while."

  "But I want to talk to him—"

  "—Poppet, can you go and wait outside for a while? We’ll come back tomorrow."

  "Okay," Jamie released his father’s weak hand and placed it next to his hip on the bed. "See you tomorrow, Dad."

  No response.

  Jamie walked into the corridor and made his way to the water fountain by the window on the wall.

  It was an especially clear night, tonight.

  The stars were out.

  It was a full moon.

  The light from the satellite glinted in the water stream as Jamie leaned in to take a mouthful. He gulped it down, lapping away at the contact point on the metal grille like a thirsty feline.

  He wiped his face and became fascinated by the view from the other side of the glass pane.

  Out came his toy telescope from his back pocket. He extended it and placed the thin end to his eye.

  Emily took her seat next to Alex’s bed. Visiting time was nearly over. Much like her son, she felt the urge to make contact with her husband.

  She ran over her fingers over the top of his hand as he slept, allowing herself to emote. There was no one else around to see her turmoil.

  "Alex, honey, I know you can hear me. Squeeze my hand if you can hear me."

  She felt a slight application of pressure from his index finger.

  "She’s going to be a focus for Jamie, honey. You know that, don’t you? You know I’d never try to veer his attention away from you, right?"

  Again, another squeeze of the fingers.

  A tear rolled down Emily’s cheek.

  "I can’t do this without you, Alex," Emily’s voice croaked, her emotions getting the better of her. "I’m so alone. I thought I’d get used to the idea, but I can’t."

  Emily tutted at herself and wiped the tears from her cheek. "I can’t see you like this as much as I don’t want you seeing me like this," she said, knowing full well she was talking pure gibberish. Inarticulate as a result of the circumstances. "Oh, God, what am I saying? I can’t think straight. I can’t see straight. Maybe I made a mistake getting Jamie that stupid animal. Maybe I am—"

  Alex squeezed her hand once again, somehow indicating to her that she’d made the right decision.

  It didn’t assuage her torment very much, however. She’d started the mourning process weeks ago. The man laying in front of her should have been dead weeks ago, too.

  "I don’t want you to be in pain," Emily cleared her throat and wiped another tear from her face. She squeezed his hand a final time. "Please, Alex. Don’t hang on any longer than you want to. I’ll understand. We’ll understand…"

  “When I Grow Up”

  By Jamie Anderson, form 1a

  When I grow up and I’m an adult I want to be a astranort (astronaut*) and go into space. Because there is a lot to find in space and our planet is just one planet and we know all about it and there is not much (many*) things to find out anymore.

  Our planet is one of lots (how many?*) in something that is called a universe and there are lots of those too. I think there is other people or things somewhere and I would like to meet them and find out how they do stuff.

  Valerie Hopper, Jamie’s science teacher, looked up from the table screen and enlarged the two grammatical errors he’d made.

  "It’s very good, Jamie. But you forgot to mention what you plan do in order to become an astronaut."

  "Oh. Sorry, Mrs Hopper," Jamie thought over his answer for a couple of seconds. "I will do really well in science—"

  "—No, Jamie," she interrupted with a smile, "Don’t tell me. I want you to write it down in your work. Absorb my comments and return the work to me tomorrow."

  "Yes, Mrs Hopper."

  Jamie held his bare forearm to the screen and made sure his teacher’s remarks - and his original statement - soaked into his skin.

  "I understand your mother bought you a cat for your birthday?"

  "Yes, her name is Jelly. She’s my best friend. You should meet her."

  "Yes, maybe one day."

  Valerie knew what was happening in Jamie’s life and felt sorry for him. A stern woman, she’d usually have scolded a student for not completing the work properly.

  Jamie made his way out of the room. "Bye, Mrs Hopper."

  ***

  Homework was the last thing on Jamie’s mind when he returned home. The very first thing he wanted was to play with Jelly.

  Of course, Jelly was only too happy with that arrangement.

  They hit the communal gardens at the back of the tower block where they lived in Chrome Valley’s east side.

  The council had been threatening to turn the shabby estate around for the past century-and-a-half but, predictably, the environs seemed to get worse as the months and years, and decades, rolled aroun
d.

  Five burnt-out skyscrapers lined the front of the freeway.

  Most of the stores had closed - long since put out of business by o-commerce, a subsection of the outernet.

  Drones flew around the deserted estate dropping off parcels with pinpoint accuracy. In the old days, around 2090, the child found a way to intercept them as they made their deliveries.

  Sub-drones, they called them.

  They were cheap to acquire back then. The children would set up a landing pad and use their reference code of incoming parcels from legitimate delivery drones. It fooled them into thinking that they were dropping parcels at the right place.

  They made a fortune from selling the products back to the companies, often claiming they were defective and demanded a refund.

  A few years later, the drone technology developed. A new piece of legislation dictated that theft by delivery necessitated physical punishment, lest the thieves interfere with big business and their profits.

  One hot summer’s day, a ten-year-old kid set up his sub drone and was electrified when the delivery device zapped him. It grew suspicious of the attempt to subvert its system and ended up hospitalizing the poor boy.

  Soon, the thievery came to an end.

  Children stayed in doors and surfed the outernet. Some played video games. Simply put, there was no reason to be outside unless you were shopping, going to work or attending school.

  Then, there was the anomaly - going outside to “play”, a concept in itself which was alien to most human beings - children, in particular.

  Sure, they’d seen horrendously outdated high definition footage of sports that contained balls. Soccer, football, basketball - you know, the type of thing only the very few, fortunate and born-into-luck children might go on to do.

  The typical child couldn’t go outside for very long, though. Their skin would burn up, the sun was far too powerful.

  Large pharma managed to jump into bed with major food processing companies to install regulatory amounts of vitamin D in most of their products.

  If they hadn’t, they may as well have just laced their products with carcinogens and refuse to prolong the misery of life.