Werehunter (anthology)

“FX-003,” she said, “and a serial number. But the X designation is for experimental, isn’t it?”

“Uh—yeah.” He got up, ignoring the medic, and came to look at the new cat. Vena’s stranger also had much more human-like hands than his SKitty; suddenly the mystery of how the cat had managed to manipulate the tangle-field controls was solved.

Shoot, he might even have been trained to do that!

:Yes,: SKitty said simply. :I go play catch-me-stupid, he open human- cages. He hear of me on station, come to see me, be mate. I think I keep him.:

Dick closed his eyes for a moment. Somewhere, there was a frantic BioTech station trying to figure out where one of their experimentals had gone. He should turn the cat over to them!

:No,: SKitty said positively. :No look. Is deaf one ear; is pet. Run away, find me.:

“He uh—must have come in as an extra with that shipment,” Dick improvised quickly. “I found an extra invoice, I just thought they’d made a mistake. He’s deaf in one ear, that’s why they washed him out. I uh—I suppose Brightwing could keep him.”

“I was kind of hoping I could—” Vena began, and flushed, lowering her eyes. “I suppose I still could . . . after this, the embassy is going to have to have a full staff with Patrol guards and a real Consul. They won’t need me anymore.”

Dick began to grin, as he realized what Vena was saying. “Well, he will need a handler. And I have all I can do to take care of this SKitty.”

:Courting?: SKitty asked slyly, reaching out to lick one of Prrreet’s ears.

This time Dick did not bother to deny it.

SCat

“NoooOOOWOWOWOW!”

The metal walls of Dick’s tiny cabin vibrated with the howl. Dick White ignored it, as he injected the last of the four contraception-beads into SKitty’s left hind leg. The black-coated shipscat did not move, but she did continue her vocal and mental protest. :Mean,: she complained, as Dick held the scanner over the right spot to make certain that he had gotten the bead placed where it was supposed to go. :Mean, mean Dick.:

Indignation showing in every line of her, she sat up on his fold-down desk and licked the injection site. It hadn’t hurt; he knew it hadn’t hurt, for he’d tried it on himself with a neutral bead before he injected her.

Nice, nice Dick, you should be saying, he chided her. One more unauthorized litter and BioTech would be coming to take you away for their breeding program. You’re too fertile for your own good.

SKitty’s token whine turned into a real yowl of protest, and her mate, now dubbed “SCat,” joined her in the wail from his seat on Dick’s bunk. :Not leave Dick!: SKitty shrilled in his head. :Not leave ship!:

Then no more kittens—at least not for a while! he responded. No more kittens means SKitty and SCat stay with Dick.

SKitty leapt to join her mate on the bunk, where both of them began washing each other to demonstrate their distress over the idea of leaving Dick. SKitty’s real name was “Lady Sundancer of Greenfields,” and she was the proud product of BioTech’s masterful genesplicing. Shipscats, those sturdy, valiant hunters of vermin of every species, betrayed their differences from Terran felines in a number of ways. BioTech had given them the “hands” of a raccoon, the speed of a mongoose, the ability to adjust to rapid changes in gravity or no gravity at all, and greatly enhanced mental capacity. What they did not know was that “Lady Sundancer”—aka “Dick White’s Kitty,” or “SKitty” for short—had another, invisible enhancement. She was telepathic—at least with Dick.

Thanks to SKitty and to her last litter, the CatsEye Company trading ship Brightwing was one of the most prosperous in this end of the Galaxy. That was due entirely to SKitty’s hunting ability; she had taken swift vengeance when a persistent pest native to the newly- opened world of Lacu’un had bitten the consort of the ruler, killing with a single blow a creature the natives had never been able to exterminate. That, and her own charming personality, had made her kittens-to-be most desirable acquisitions, so precious that not even the leaders of Lacu’un “owned” them; they were held in trust for the world. Thanks to the existence of that litter and the need to get them appropriately pedigreed BioTech mates, SKitty’s own mate—called “Prrreet” by SKitty and unsurprisingly dubbed “SCat” by the crew, for his ability to vanish—had made his own way to SKitty, stowing aboard with the crates containing more BioTech kittens for Lacu’un.