Adamant Spirits, page 211
Besides, I couldn’t take Loki with me, and leaving him behind would ruin the experience. I would miss his companionship and worry too much about his well-being. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to him while I was gone. He wasn’t just my companion—he was my best friend. I could hardly protest whenever my friends teased me about spoiling him and treating him like a fur-baby.
How else was I supposed to treat the only one who had never left my side?
I unmuted the broadcast, and the Star Wars theme song blasted over the speakers, accompanied by a shot of waves crashing upon a sandy shore. The broadcast switched scenes, showing an elegant ballroom filled to the brim with people. The faces in the front were familiar—family, friends, and acquaintances of the bride and groom. The remaining crowd must be other Stardancer guests lucky enough to witness history.
Suddenly, Loki nudged my arm, snaking his way underneath my elbow until his fluffy body was entirely on my lap. He let out a short meow and chewed on his silvervine stick as he peered up at me with darkened eyes. His tail flicked against my arm, a show of agitated playfulness.
“I know, Loki.” Glancing down at my insistent companion, I couldn’t fight the smile crossing my lips. I scratched the top of his head. “Even though I wish I could be there, experiencing the thrill of traveling through space, I know I’m meant to be here with you.”
He slowly closed his eyes and rubbed his head against the palm of my hand. His purrs intensified until his body rumbled on my lap.
Under other circumstances, I would have complained about his black fur shedding on my bridesmaid dress. But this dress was superfluous since I couldn’t be there in person. No one would see me drowning my sorrows in red wine, so I had no cares to give.
Loki was here to comfort me, making my night a little less lonely.
Carth’aiq
Humans.
The Interstellar Protections Agency—IPA—had had its eye on them for a long time. It was hard to witness an intelligent species continuously struggle to advance beyond their own planet. It’d been so painful at times that the elders in the agency’s council would place an order to interfere, nudging their most advanced civilization forward with a solution to their problems about every one thousand human years.
Only to become disheartened again whenever the humans’ progress shortly declined or plateaued.
We had spent many millennia watching humans grow to be the dominant species of their water world, at times horrified at how they were damaging their home planet with their primitive ways. From what we gathered, humans were always too busy fighting amongst themselves to tackle more essential tasks like unifying their species, saving their environment, and trying to explore space outside their star system.
Their inferior technology demonstrated that they were just now learning the basics of space travel, having ventured slightly outside of their star system only a few times before deciding to explore with their current colony-size vessel. Several failures along the way had stunted the growth of their space program, which was why they still hadn’t yet met us—or any member of the IPA.
What bothered me the most was that they were missing out on the wonders a universal language could do to a planet. Never in my life had I come across a species with so many languages and dialects on a single home planet. I was surprised to discover they hadn’t even invented universal communicators, which added to my frustrations while planning our initial meeting.
How they had survived thus far never ceased to amaze me. Their disarray made it easy for us to survey their planet undetected, cloaked from their technology.
Our researchers had studied their media and discovered how humans as a whole viewed what they called aliens. Any species that came from space was considered hostile, determined to destroy or enslave Earth. A minority of humans did like the idea of meeting, interacting with, or even romancing an alien, but none fulfilled a leadership role within their society, thus making contact with that minority pointless.
Out of all the species the agency was prodding along a technological timeline, humans were the most resistant—and resilient—to change. That was why I had been so frustrated when I’d been assigned this mission; I had been destined to fail before I’d even left the headquarters.
Why would they give me, of all the agents, such an impossible task?
I was a scout. Not a researcher. And definitely not a diplomat.
Arriving on Earth with an entire fleet would only alarm the locals. As would decloaking a single vessel over a major city or capital. Though it was the simpler way, I couldn’t afford either move.
Somehow, I needed to find a human in a position of power who was willing to convince their government to venture farther into space and join the IPA. Humans needed to know that they were late to the exploration and expansion boom, and the only thing protecting them were the laws of the IPA.
If just one human agreed to become our representative, we could try to prevent future conflict and begin interplanetary negotiations.
As I flew along the coast of the planet’s largest ocean, I wondered what drew humans to build there. Most of their civilizations’ largest cities hugged a shore despite the threat of floods, storms, and earthquakes. The agency had watched in horror as the humans endured countless natural disasters and rebuilt each time right where their property lay in rubble. What made the coastal lands so desirable that they were worth dealing with crowded, dangerous conditions?
I was determined to begin my investigation far from the planet’s equator, where populations were thinner. If something went wrong, it would be easier to escape and find a private location to wait and observe how the humans react before making another attempt to open communications. Hopefully, it would not come to that. If the Stars smiled upon me, I could establish a connection to a local leader on my first try.
I slowed my flight, hovering a short distance from residences dotting the coastline beside empty beaches. I searched for the perfect candidate—someone alone and enjoying the clear night and the gentle breeze blowing in from the ocean. Beyond the dunes lay thick forests with no major city for a long stretch. The humans here were cut off from any substantial settlement. If they called for help, I would be long gone before anyone arrived to witness me or my ship. I would use the humans’ skepticism against them, hoping that no one would believe the humans I contacted without proof.
As my vessel passed the next dwelling, I spotted a communication dish beside a portable computer. Both were sitting on top of a table beside a sleeping blonde woman dressed in a bright blue gown.
Hope inflated my lungs.
Only wealthy, powerful humans had access to such a device.
Movement caught my eye. The woman’s elegant robes fluttered, revealing a black cat. Cats were descendants of the chuse, domesticated and faithful felines from my home planet. We introduced the species on this planet many thousands of years ago. The chuse were good judges of character and highly intelligent, capable of communicating with my kind and other telepathic species in the IPA at a basic level.
While wild felines from other ancient lines still existed on this planet, it was a relief to witness a piece of our past here. This cat was the product of my kind’s efforts to push humans into technological advancement.
Instead, humans had decided to treat cats like treasured pets, with some cultures even worshiping them as gods. Sadly, in modern times, it seemed like human treatment of cats ranged from caring for them like kin to abusing and even eating them. Some researchers from the council believed that those humans who harbored an extreme hatred for cats may have instinctually recognized them as foreign to their planet.
I was convinced there had to be another reason for their aggression toward cats. Perhaps they feared the truth—that something from beyond their planet’s reach could outsmart them—so they took out their fear on an innocent being less than a tenth of their size.
Regardless, this black cat was the answer to all my problems.
Pressing my paw on the console, I unlocked my vessel’s controls and disabled its autopilot. Gripping the steering mechanism, I manually took control and circled the dwelling, spiraling down to its private porch. It was vital to prevent my ship from landing, so I stayed hovering above the ground.
Any evidence left behind would be detrimental to my mission. The most recent IPA visitors had left what humans called crop circles on their open fields. To some, they were a celebrated phenomenon that was often replicated as an art form by believers who tried unsuccessfully to communicate with us. Luckily, those believers were never taken seriously by other humans, so our presence here had not yet been betrayed.
The black cat’s ears perked up, and his head snapped in my direction. Instantly, he jumped to full alert. His eyes darkened, and he arched his back with his tail stuck straight up and puffy.
Cursing, I placed my vessel on standby and checked its cloaking systems, ensuring they were still activated as I locked my console with my nail engravings. Standing from my pilot seat, I then hurried out of the cockpit and into the hallway, heading to the storage bay ramp. Passing the weapons rack against the wall along the way, I decided not to arm myself. If I couldn’t take on a mere cat and its female owner with my hands, then I should hand in my scout registration to the agency and retire. They shouldn’t be able to defeat me even if they ambushed me while I slept.
Chuckling, I approached my storage bay’s hatch and pressed the control to lower the ramp. Instantly, the door slid open and the walkway expanded, stopping right before it touched the ground in the open space beside the sleeping female.
The black cat let out a low growl. His tail swished back and forth as his determined gaze was trained on me. The display would’ve been menacing if there weren’t such a tremendous size difference between us… and if I weren’t a far more advanced version of him.
“I come in peace, Little One,” I pathed to the angry cat, hoping to get through to him. “I mean no harm to you or your master.”
“The sky kin have returned,” the male cat responded, flicking his tail as he dropped his aggressive stance. There was still mistrust in his bright-green slitted eyes, however. He was guarded, his muscles still bunched in a defensive position. “Stories about your return have been passed down from generation to generation but many have lost faith. Many believe we were abandoned here.”
“Not abandoned,” I corrected, cursing the elders for putting me in this situation. I didn’t have time to answer for my ancestors’ actions and their involvement with the agency. “We needed your kind to keep an eye on the humans as companions to those who are worthy of your presence until the time is right for them to join the Intergalactic Protections Agency.”
“You are a little too late for that,” he snapped with an audible hiss. “While there are some who accept us and treat us well—like my Sah-Rah—plenty of humans would rather see us gone.”
“I have many who wish for my lifeforce to be extinguished, too,” I countered. “Just as there are always allies, there are always enemies to oppose us.”
A series of howls echoed through the air—a warning for intruders to stay away. My ears pinned back in annoyance at the horrible sounds. I hated this particular species the humans had bred for hunting and guarding property.
“Like the humans who worship dogs,” the cat spat, angling his head toward the forest line. “How can they enjoy their company?”
“I take it you’ve had some encounters with your neighbors?”
“Unfortunately.” He flicked his tail aggressively before turning his attention back to me. “What’s your purpose for this visit if it isn’t to rescue us?”
“Previously, Earth was protected by IPA laws, but now that humans have traveled past their star system in a large enough vessel, the IPA considers them an invasive threat, particularly to species with less technology than them. I need to speak with one of Earth’s leaders and let them know that there are others beyond their borders. I will explain that their actions may have consequences if they aren’t careful.”
“A leader?”
“Yes, any will do,” I urged, hoping I had come to the right dwelling.
“What will happen to the leader once you contact them?” The black cat relaxed, sat down, and started cleaning his paw while watching me.
“I will convince them to become a liaison between the humans and the council, so they may warn the captain of their ship to turn around.”
“Are you hoping this liaison will be willing to go off-planet with you?”
I hadn’t missed the curious tone of his voice or how his ears seemingly perked up with interest.
“That would be the best way to accomplish my goal.”
My tail twitched, displaying my annoyance. I was growing tired of this conversation. It had been a long time since I had visited my home planet; I had forgotten how the chuse loved to fish for secrets and draw out conversations. Cats here may have bred with the native felines, but their base instincts were similar to their chuse ancestors.
“I am hoping this is the beginning of a great moment in their history. If everything goes smoothly, humans could be welcomed into the IPA. They would get the chance to further expand their knowledge about the universe around them.”
“My Sah-Rah is a leader.” The black cat paused his cleaning and turned his head toward the sleeping female. “Her sire calls her Princess, and she rules over many, commanding all whenever she leaves her home.”
Princess. I recognized the term humans used for the daughter of a kingdom’s ruler.
Straightening, I searched around the perimeter of the property for any sign of guards or servants but found nothing. My vessel hadn’t tracked any thermal signatures of nearby life forms besides these two before I decided to stop, either. Taking in a deep breath, I detected only the saltiness of the ocean and the gentle scents of the nearby flowers, plus the black cat and his princess’s territorial markings.
“Where are her kin? Her… people?” I mustn’t be fooled by this cat, not when we were still strangers. I would be wrong to trust him just because he had referred to me as his sky kin. “What evidence do you have that she holds such a title?”
“Follow me.” The confidence in his voice matched his graceful posture as he jumped off the seat onto the floor with his tail lifted and curled at the tip. “I will forgive your hesitation to trust me and show you the proof you need.”
I took a step forward but hesitated, pausing to glance at the sleeping female. If she were indeed royalty, it would explain why she was dressed so formally, since it was common for her kind to display their wealth and power through elegant attire. It also explained why she had a communication dish attached to her portable computer and had left such an expensive device out in the open. However, sleeping unguarded would be irresponsible for someone of her supposed ranking.
Thoughts of how difficult traveling to the council with her would be plagued my mind. For the first time, she would be experiencing not only space but communication with an intelligent species—those her kind called aliens—all the while completely ignorant about IPA law.
I had been so worked up believing that this mission would be an utter failure that I hadn’t planned for the minute chance that I would actually find a suitable representative, especially this quickly. I hadn’t even thought through the next step.
Backing away, I committed her appearance to memory, reminding myself to remain quiet to avoid any disturbance. The last thing I wanted to do was accidentally wake her before I was ready, especially if this cat was leading me astray.
Stepping into the dwelling, I didn’t know what to prepare for. I knew humans were often hoarders. Collecting belongings was ingrained in them, whether they needed them to live or to prove one’s power. However, this Sah-Rah seemed to enjoy surrounding herself with baubles one might think were pretty or pleasing to the eye.
The common living space was cluttered with elegant gowns thrown about the furniture like the one she was currently wearing. There were two tall carpeted structures in opposite corners of the room. Both stopped just below the ceiling, equipped with multiple platforms and different levels, perfect for the black cat to sit and observe the room. Small, colorful spheres and feathers on strings were scattered across the floor, along with crumbling thin white squares.
The walls were decorated with framed pictures of the woman and the black cat enjoying themselves at the beach or sitting on the lap of a pale, bearded man dressed in red. Glancing around, I found it safe to assume that she enjoyed collecting candles and oddly shaped mirrors. Perhaps it was so she could always have something to look at herself in. On the built-in bookshelf sat many more framed pictures featuring the owner of the home, accompanied by whom I would assume were other princesses.
I could see why.
The golden-haired woman was attractive for a human. Her bright smile pulled my gaze to her face no matter what else was in the picture.
“Sah-Rah has been feeling down lately because all her friends abandoned her,” the black cat explained. “She was supposed to go with them on that vessel you mentioned.”
A nearby frame on a glass table next to the wall caught my eye. The frame was built differently than the etched natural wood or black metallic frames elsewhere in the room. It was a work of art in itself. The bottom half was speckled to look like a white-sand beach, detailed with a chair under an umbrella on one side and a blanket under a red-and-white striped ball on the other. The top half looked like dark-blue water meeting a light blue sky, bordered with fluffy white clouds and a smiling yellow sun.
The picture inside the frame displayed about thirty human women wearing outfits that showed off their bare skin. They all seemed happy and carefree as they hugged each other with bright smiles on their faces.
It was odd to see a large group of women enjoying time in close proximity, especially without any cubs around. Females of my species tended to avoid each other.
Taking a deep breath, I couldn’t sense any other scents in the room other than those that radiated from the princess and her cat. There were faint traces of aromas from the candles that decorated the room and whatever was stored in the dining hall, but no evidence of another human residing here.
