Cat on a Hot Bright Moon, Part 4
Cat on a Hot Bright Moon, Part 4
Yes, literally.
Welcome to Olympus City, where super-powers, physics-defying tech, and unearthly creatures are all possible now. Human nature, however, remains unchanged.
No one is born a perfect superhero, but a few strive to live up to the ideal anyway.
Previously: Miranda flew to the moon to collect some samples that might aid in the search for Fantastic Man, but she soon realized she wasn’t alone. There’s a cat up there.
Part 4
The cat trotted across the moon. Miranda traced its pawprints backward, but they didn’t go far. A vast landscape of undisturbed sand stretched for miles. And then … tiny footsteps.
“Well, hello,” Miranda said, drifting closer to the cat, no sudden movements. “How’d you get all the way up here?”
The cat couldn’t hear her, but it could apparently breathe up here, or it no longer needed to breathe. No helmet, no oxygen mask, no little spacesuit, all of which raised quite a few questions. Miranda supposed that if people could develop superhuman abilities, then why not cats? Or super-feline abilities, perhaps.
Miranda followed the cat, careful not to get too close. She couldn’t leave the poor thing stranded on the moon like this. If it even was stranded. Miranda surveyed the terrain for evidence of a human vessel, though it was just as likely that the cat brought itself here.
The cat paused, tossed a judgmental glance at Miranda, and disappeared in a streak of motion, leaving no fresh prints in its wake.
Yeah, it brought itself up here.
The gray dust blurred beneath Miranda as she pursued.
But she had already lost it. Miranda hovered, rotating to take in the full view of craters, cliffs, and hills. The moon was nowhere near as smooth as it appeared from Earth.
“Here, kit—” Habit. She stopped herself.
No cat in sight. Miranda did spot an anomaly, though. A dark substance dotted the sand leading into a wide crater—a black liquid that had dried and crusted.
She followed the trail. The temperature plunged as she descended into the shadows. She slowed down, giving her eyes a chance to adjust. And she spotted the cat. It was nipping at something. She floated closer.
A horse? No. Unicorn. The cat had gathered the frozen zombie unicorns. Miranda couldn’t tell how many, and the lack of direct light was a godsend. The few she could see were missing body parts. At the edge of the shadow, a severed leg was chewed to the bone.
Her frown sagged. “Oh, cat.”
This cat could never return to Earth, not without thorough testing to ensure it didn’t bring back a plague. Maybe Carey could help it after he got his armor up and running. There was nothing Miranda could do for this poor creature.
She floated out of the crater. The cat seemed content, at least. She wondered how long it would remain content in its isolation. If necessary, she could visit from time to time, though she didn’t relish the prospect.
Landing nearby, Miranda removed the collection bag from its sterile packaging, then tucked the garbage into her belt, not wanting to be the first person ever to litter on the moon.
After pulling and pushing the bag open, she reached down and grabbed a clump of lunar sand. Right before she could deposit the sample, a thin battering ram slammed into her.
Miranda tasted the moon and promptly spit it out, reviling the weird metallic aftertaste. She flipped over just in time to see the cat flying at her, claws gleaming in the sunlight.
She rolled out of the way, then flew straight up. Hissing silently, the cat sprang after her.
Miranda evaded, but the cat bounded off the insubstantial atmosphere and slashed at her cape. Its next swipe missed the oxygen tube by a single inch. Miranda fought down a moment’s panic, then reached out, aiming to snatch the cat by the scruff of its neck.
She missed. And the cat pounced.
The crash triggered a plume of dust. Standing on Miranda’s chest, the cat raised its paw and struck, targeting her face.
Miranda blocked that paw but missed the other. Claws grazed the oxygen mask.
She flung the cat off. It soared into space, toward Earth.
No!
But the cat did not head to Earth. It swung back around and shot straight down, like a bullet. Miranda shifted to the side, snatched its short tail, and, though she’d never forgive herself for this, swung the cat. The poor creature didn’t know what it was doing. Miranda wished she knew what she was doing.
She released, and a feline meteorite struck the moon.
Descending toward the new crater—Miranda’s gift to posterity—she watched for movement, one hand shielding her face, the other her oxygen.
Nothing moved, not within the light, anyway. Did she kill it? She hoped not. Ultra Woman could not kill a cat.
Miranda floated lower, closer to the shadows.
She saw its eyes first. Utterly inhuman, they seemed to glow in the darkness as the predator stalked forward, its fierce jaw wide open. Imagination filled in the silence with something monstrous.
And that was the problem. This cat had all this power, but no humanity. And what was power without humanity?
Miranda wanted to leave. After all, the cat wasn’t hurting anyone but her. It was even doing the world a favor by eating the unicorns.
What if it gets bored up here?
It might not for a while, she realized, by which point Carey would have his armor ready and he could retrieve the cat in the manner of a true superhero.
In any case, Miranda still needed to collect those samples.
“Stay put.” She pointed at the cat, striking her most dominant pose. Speaking the words helped. “Stay on the moon. Eat your food. Wait for me to come back.” Or Carey. Hopefully Carey.
Miranda floated upward, keeping her eyes on the cat. It stayed put, watching her, perhaps studying her.
Finding the bag took a few minutes. Fortunately, its color stood out against the bleak landscape. Miranda picked it up and resumed her original task, albeit faster this time. She gathered sand as well as rocks of varying sizes, then tied up the bag and lifted off.
The cat floated above her, fangs bared.
“Enough, cat.” Miranda flexed her sternest expression. “I’m leaving. You’re staying.”
Another silent hiss.
Miranda dropped the bag right before the cat struck. Super-strong paws smacked her across the face. A warm substance quickly froze on her cheek. She hadn’t bled in so long.
The cat pressed on, its attacks increasing in speed and ferocity. It snarled, it lunged, it slashed.
Claws sliced through the oxygen tube, severing it. Miranda sucked in the last of the vanishing air and held her breath.
The next slash barely missed her costume. Miranda had yet to encounter anything capable of ripping this fabric, but she wasn’t taking its durability for granted. The costume was irreplaceable.
So was, she feared, the air in her lungs. She pushed the cat away, but it bounced right back and pounded her into the lunar sand. An involuntary gasp cost Miranda precious air.
Idiot!
That tiny, savage head filled her vision as the cat pressed down, poised to chomp off her nose. Maybe it could.
Miranda held its paws at bay as she leaned away from those fierce teeth. Pressure squeezed her lungs, which were supposed to be stronger than this. But holding her breath while fighting a super-strong cat was an entirely novel experience.
The severed tube drifted lazily, one part spilling oxygen across the moon, the other failing to collect the air, both wasting it.
Miranda shoved the cat off and grabbed both parts of the tube. She was about to press them together and suck in whatever meager sustenance managed to slip through.
But the cat returned and sliced off another few inches of the tube, then chomped into Miranda’s neck. A scream rose from deep within, and the moon killed it the second it passed her lips. More air gone, for nothing.
Lungs depleted, Miranda reached for the tube. The cat batted her hand. She reached again. Claws scraped against her palm. The burning in her chest intensified.
She needed to get to Earth. Needed to travel a couple hundred thousand miles right now.
She lifted off, and the cat pushed her right back down.
It wasn’t giving up. It might never give up. It would never need to catch its breath. Did it even need to sleep?
Miranda’s eyelids drifted together. She forced them apart.
The cat had far too much power. It would never restrain itself. Only one person was available for that job.
Forgive me.
She directed the sentiment at the cat, at the planet below, at anyone willing to receive it.
Miranda jammed her fingers into the cat’s mouth and, wincing, snapped its jaw apart. The cat convulsed, and she couldn’t tell whether it was dead or in agony. So she broke its neck and bashed the body against solid rock.
Air!
The tube was shorter now. Miranda curled up to connect the two parts, and her fingers helped form an imperfect seal. Lying there in the fetal position, she sipped the air. It was barely sufficient.
Blood painted the sand beside her. The cat lay still, without so much as a twitch.
Miranda didn’t feel heroic. She didn’t feel like Ultra Woman.
No one witnessed this. No one ever needed to know. But she’d never forget. She wasn’t even certain she saved any lives but her own.
The bag! Where the hell did I drop it?
She considered coming back for it later.
No! Think!
After a few more sips of air, the memory surfaced, and she retraced her path, scooped up the sample bag, and leapt toward Earth, cursing every single mile of the void between moon and planet. Several times along the way, she needed to stop, press the tube together, and suck in a little more air while floating like a space baby.
The air capsules held out just long enough.
She hated outer space.
Next: The Imposter
Curious about Miranda’s first trip to outer space? Then please check out the original Terrific novel, The Flying Woman, for that and more.
Thank you to all who have already read it!