Cat Proposes to Speak on my Behalf
“This is a Sequestran sorting station,” said Cat, “you see the Sequestrans are a benign ethereal like civilisation. They mean no one any real harm. However to survive, effectively to breathe, they need molecules and atoms to flow continuously through their quark holes. You see once upon time their home planet ‘Sta’ provided enough of the kind of energy they needed to take in for their ‘bodies’ to function properly. When their planet started to fail their scientists discovered that by harvesting the functionality of quark holes, and through moving inanimate matter molecules through such holes, they could artificially generate the energy type they needed to live.”
“Ok so basically what you’re saying is ‘what’ exactly in relation to how I get my Willy back?” I enquired.
Cat stared back at me with an incredulous slant to his whiskers saying,
“Have you not been listening at all you tailed moron? This is a quark hole sorting station. It’s where the Sequestrans do their best to sort out any animate objects or twits like you that happen to get sucked into one of their quark holes by mistake and jumbled up.”
“Ok,” I said, “I sort of understand the mixing up of bits because I remember about Fastmove on Earth. But I didn’t fall into that hole with a Mudlizard did I?”
“No you didn’t,” said Cat. “My guess is that their quark holes all connect up in one massive complex network and that a Mudlizard got sucked in somewhere else at around the same time as you did. Then unfortunately, your respective molecules got mixed up a bit at some junction point in the network. The Sequestran monitors picked this up and have brought you both here to try and sort you out. Personally though I would say you’re way past sorting out. And actually, you look alright with a tail,” added Cat.
Cat hovered rapidly upward as I swished my new appendage around my body in his direction, before saying,
“Look, just tell me what we do next. I want my bits back.”
“Surely it’s obvious isn’t it?” said Cat, “we need to ask the Sequestran sorting attendant at this station for help. Simple.”
“Right. So where is he, she or it?”
“All around us boss, all around us,” whined Cat.
I screwed my face up and said, “What do you mean, all around us?”
“I told you. The Sequestrans are an ethereal civilisation. They exist dispersed in what we perceive as the space around us,” said Cat in an exasperated tone.
“Right. So basically I can’t see them.”
“Nope,” said Cat.
“Well how the sprokus am I going to speak to them then if I can’t see them you mangey machine?” I grumbled.
“I cannot and do not therefore get ‘mange’ you twerp. And you cannot speak to them which in my view is very lucky for the Sequestrans. I shall speak to them on your behalf.”
Oh good grief I thought. Now I’m really in trouble……
End of Chapter 3
Cat at his irritating best…….
As Cat had gone on speaking my face had gradually screwed and scrunched more and more up as I struggled to take it all in. With what must have been by then a classic look of almost abject horror and bemusement on my face I half shouted,
“Sorry, but that just sounds like total Ogredonoshit to me. You’ve just made that up. I mean what measurements have you made, what data have you collected? How could you possibly be doing anything but making it up. For the last ‘however long’ we’ve been moving through a Quark hole and although we’ve just arrived somewhere how could you possibly carry out scientific experiments and analysis in less than 5 minutes. You really are the most irritating, pointless, useless artificial intelligence assistant anyone could possibly have!!”
“Had you actually let me finish you brainless halfwit I would have gone on to explain I am just repeating what I’ve been told.”
This was even more irritating and I made it plain that it was by yelling at the top of my Muzlizard voice, “TOLD!! TOLD!!!….” which actually came out ‘Goorarp, goorarp’.
“Yes,” said Cat, “that’s right. Told.”
“TOLD BY WHO!!!” I screeched.
“Well by the Sequestran responsible for this sorting station of course.”
I clapped my hand, ‘slap’, to my face and found myself swishing my tail as I said “buludderdadah’ which loosely translated from Mudlizard to olde English is ‘WHAT?, without ‘the’ and any following intergalactically recognised expletive.
To be continued………
Cat shook his head slowly whilst clapping one front paw to the top of his head before saying,
“Ok, so really you want to know what all this means in practice? Well, I suspect it means that somewhere in this sorting station there is a Mudlizard wondering where its tail is, why its speaking like someone from Earth and what the useless appendage, dangling presumably between its legs, is actually for.”
“Sorting station? Sorting station?” I repeated, “What do you mean, sorting station?”
Cat sighed a very heavy sigh. It was one those sighs that I knew he reserved for occasions when he considered that there was very little chance that I was going to understand what he said next. Which, actually thinking about, was in fact most of the time.
“Ok you brain pauper, here goes,” said Cat,
“I have concluded from the readings I have taken and observations that I have made that someone or, put more precisely, some civilisation, has control over a process for the movement of objects through quark holes. I believe the process is linked to their well being and they need to use it to survive. Of course a quark hole can move living things as well but not perfectly, a little like Fastmove technology on earth which at first was not very good at reconstituting actual living organisms that had been disassembled at another point in space.”
“So,” Cat continued, “because this civilisation cannot control easily what they suck into their quark holes, occasionally living things get drawn in indiscriminately with non-biological matter and then reconstituted in a somewhat jumbled state. That is I think what has happened to you. You are jumbled up. That’s why you have a Mudlizard’s tail and that’s why you are speaking Mudlizard.”
To be continued……..
“I have been working on refining my Father’s work for some time and have concluded that he was almost correct in his proposals,” Cat began. He then continued after a short overly dramatic pause,
“It is very clear that worm holes can be used to move from place to place in the universe very rapidly though, as far as we know, no one has been able to do this in any fully controlled manner. However my Father was quite convinced that the Sequestran incursion on the moon in 2056 had something to do with worm holes. However he also detected during his experiments ‘quarklet’ energy bursts, previously never detected around any known worm holes. Based on the residual decay patterns of these energy bursts he was able to show some correlation between the disappearance of objects and people on the moon with peak quarklet energy levels. Unfortunate though he became too distracted by the Mudlizards to complete his work, which I picked up on about 2 years ago. My deliberations had led me to the point of submitting a collection of thoughts to the International Academy of Astroscience, postulating the existing of quark holes.”
Oh Saints of the Universe save me I thought. When Cat started to use words like ‘postulate’ I knew I was in for a long stream of ‘sciobabble’ as I liked to refer to it. I almost started to think it might be best just to forget about my Willy and begin to forge psycho-meaningful connections between my limbic brain and my new tail as quickly as possible. In an effort to head this to much postulation off, I said to be Cat,
“In the interests of getting us the heck outta here, wherever here actually is, do you think you could get to the point?”
I then quickly added as a cleverly disguised but largely disinterested afterthought,
“I mean it’s really terrific of course that you are publishing scientific thoughts , especially at your young age, and the astroscientific world will I know be thrilled by your latest publication but, what does a quickhole mean in practice my dear Cat?”
“Quarkhole you moron. Quarkhole.” replied Cat drily.
“Yes, yes of course. I meant Quarkhole,” I said, “but what has one of those got to do with my missing will and new tail?”
To be continued……..
The Work of Cat’s Father, ‘Cat’
Just as naturally, as I expected, Cat positively bristled with joy as he realised he now had the ‘explaining’ stage. He began his explanation in his usual superior manner, like the Head Avatar at a private school. Head up, tail up, whiskers flared and at absolutely maximum length, he postured as the best would, before speaking his first words on the matter.
“This is more than a worm hole. There is a scientific, astrophysicology theory actually first put forward by my Father, Cat.”
“Oh good grief,” I said, having had a horrible feeling ‘he’ would be somewhere in all of this.
“Please do tell me about Daddy’s theory,” I continued ever so sarcastically.
Cat immediately bristled some more, sweeping his whiskers even further back before spitting, “If you’re going to take that kind of supercilious attitude towards the pioneering work of my Father, I will stop with any explanation right now!!”
As Cat paused I thought to myself that my recollections of Cat’s Father’s experimental work were ones that usually involved me in stress, anguish, embarrassment and all too frequently pain, as he tried experimenting to prove one point or another. However, I also thought that strategically it would not be wise whilst in my current tailed and ‘willy-less’ state, to rile Cat with my opinion of his Dad’s scientific prowess. So I lied blatantly and as expertly as ever, saying,
“No, no, no. Not at all. My opinion of your Father’s scientific prowess is of the highest order. I don’t believe though he ever told me about any theory linked with worm holes. I expect he was being typically modest and didn’t want to take up my time with long explanations of sciences which of course I couldn’t possibly understand. He was so considerate in that respect.”
Oh my, talk about tacky treacle tattle to get your way. I was laying it on thicker than the average asteroid belt. But it worked, as I knew well it would from previous experience with the ‘ego’ of the Universe.
Cat duly responded, “Well ok then. I shall continue. But please do not interrupt.”
“Of course not,” I said as seriously as I could.
To be continued…….