his life he had seen this holy form depicted a thousand times, and now there was no mistaking it. This was the creator of the universe, the giver of all life. Cat, the nine-lived, had returned to Earth at last. Lynx kneeled and whispered, “My lord.”
Cat did not acknowledge him, and Lynx was unsure what to do. Through the gash came the voices of the templars, who now stood just outside. Tiger was saying, with a mix of fear and awe, “It fell from the sky. See? It broke through into this cavern.”
Lion replied angrily, “The dogmen flee, and we stand here engaged in idle—”
He stopped abruptly as the monkeyman lurched through the gash and out into the cave. Lynx followed after.
The templars stood awestruck. The monkeyman ignored them. He stumbled about, studying the damage to his winged tomb. With one hand he grasped his forehead. He still seemed disoriented.
Lynx felt disoriented himself. He wandered over to the templars, tugged Lion’s sleeve, and made him look toward the tomb, where Cat was just emerging. Lion fell instantly to his knees, and Tiger did the same.
Cat ignored them and strode along after the monkeyman. Then Cat lay down, reached into a gap between the tomb and the cave floor, and batted his paw at something within. The monkeyman grunted at Cat and used the edge of one boot to lightly brush Cat away from the hole.
Lion leapt to his feet and cried, “You dare!” He ran up to the monkeyman and seized him by the shoulder.
The monkeyman shoved him back and yelled at him in a strange language. An amulet on the monkeyman’s belt buzzed, “Get your hands off me, catman scum!” Puzzled, the monkeyman glanced at the amulet. Then he shouted at Lion, and again his magic amulet translated. “Report! What unit are you with? And what the hell are you wearing?”
Lion backed away. He moved to stand beside Tiger and said in a low voice, “A surviving monkeyman. He struck me, you saw. I should have the honor of slaying him.”
The monkeyman’s amulet spoke in a strange tongue, presumably translating Lion’s words.
Tiger said, “I don’t know. He comes to us from the sky, as a companion of Cat. Dare we slay him?”
Lion said, “Cat’s holy word commands it.”
Tiger said, “Cat himself stands before us now. Everything is changed.”
Lion glanced at Cat, who sat licking himself. Lion approached him, knelt, and said, “My lord, I am Lion, your most faithful servant. I am yours to command. What is your wish for this monkeyman? Say the word, and I will spill his blood in your name.”
Cat lifted his head, gave Lion an inscrutable stare, and went back to licking himself.
Lion, still kneeling, glanced at Tiger and hissed, “Why does he not answer?”
Tiger growled softly, “It is not our place to question his motives. He will speak when he wills it.”
Lion turned back to Cat. “Answer me, lord, I beg you. Or if you will not, give us some sign, that we may do your will.”
The monkeyman seemed to finally shake off his confusion and comprehend the danger. He glanced back and forth between Lion and Cat, then crouched and whistled to Cat and spoke. The amulet translated, “Hey, come here. Here, kitty kitty kitty. Come on.”
Lion said darkly, “He presumes to command Cat.”
The monkeyman ignored this and kept calling. Cat gazed at the monkeyman, but did not stir.
Lion said, “Cat rejects him.”
“Wait!” The monkeyman held up a hand. “Just . . . Leo, come here, dammit!” He whistled again. “Here, kitty kitty.”
Lion reached for his sword and said, “He dies.”
But at that moment, Cat languidly uncurled himself and strolled across the dirt to the monkeyman, who scratched Cat’s whiskers, then his ears, his neck, and his back. Cat purred and rubbed against the monkeyman’s shins. Lion froze.
“Cat shows him favor,” Tiger observed. “Cat has a special plan for him.”
The monkeyman picked up Cat and held him like a shield. Cat continued to purr.
Lion glared at the monkeyman for a long time, then strode over to him, stood very close, and said softly, “I do not know why Cat chooses to prolong your miserable existence, abomination. But let no one say that I was curious.” He brushed by him and walked away.
The monkeyman lowered his head to Cat and whispered, “Good Cat.”
The catmen set out again, now joined by Cat and his strange monkeyman companion. The monkeyman brought along a sort of satchel in which he carried Cat, who seemed pleased enough with the arrangement. Lion remained hostile to the monkeyman, no matter how often Tiger insisted that the Victory was now at hand and that Lion should be rejoicing. The templars often knelt before Cat and asked him for guidance, but Cat never deigned to reply.
Sometimes the monkeyman would stare into the amulet, but whatever it told him must have displeased him, for he would shake it, strike it, and yell at it. Lynx was desperate to question the monkeyman, but that would be showing curiosity, so instead he tried to mimic the stony indifference of the templars. Still, Lynx couldn’t keep his eyes off of Cat.
The monkeyman noticed this. Finally he said, “Do you want to hold him?”
Lynx was stunned. He glanced at the templars, who were now well ahead. “I couldn’t.”
“Sure.” The monkeyman reached into the satchel, lifted Cat free, and handed him over to Lynx, who scratched Cat’s ears the way the monkeyman had. Cat purred.
“See?” the monkeyman said. After a moment, he added, “What’s your name?”
Lynx hesitated, then told him.
“I’m Charles,” the monkeyman said. Lynx didn’t respond. After a moment, the monkeyman lowered his voice and said, “Tell me, Lynx. What year is this?”
Lynx was perplexed, but the monkeyman seemed earnest. Lynx passed Cat back to him and said slowly, “1293.”
“Using what calendar?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Dating from when?”
“Why . . . ” This was the strangest question Lynx had ever heard. “From the creation of the world.”
The monkeyman said nothing for a long time. He and Lynx resumed walking. Finally the monkeyman asked in a low tone, “And what is this ‘Victory’?”
“You really don’t know? Cat hasn’t told you?”
The monkeyman said, “Cat isn’t overly fond of explaining himself. As you may have noticed.”
So Lynx spoke of the Victory. When he saw that the monkeyman was utterly confused, he found himself explaining more and more. Soon he had gone all the way back to the beginning, back to when Cat had created the world and all its inhabitants, including his most favored creation, cats, whom Cat had made in his own image. To them alone Cat had granted the gift of speech. But the cats had grown curious about what other animals might say, and so the cats disobeyed and shared the gift of speech with birds, frogs, dogs, and monkeys. But those other animals were wicked and spoke only lies. When Cat returned and saw what had happened, he was very angry, and punished those animals, twisting them into catmen, birdmen, frogmen, dogmen, and monkeymen. The catmen wailed and beseeched Cat to restore them to their perfect forms, but Cat decreed that he would not until the catmen had wiped the Earth clean of the abominations—any animal who spoke and was not feline. But Cat, in his ultimate mercy, also decreed that this redemption was inevitable, and promised that in the last days he would return to Earth to lead the catmen to ultimate glory. Lynx finished, “So that is the Victory. That is why Cat has come again. But his ways are strange. We did not know that he would be accompanied by a monkeyman.”
The monkeyman said, “And these dogmen we’re pursuing . . . are the last on Earth?”
“Perhaps,” Lynx said. “They are among the last, certainly.”
“And the . . . other monkeymen. Like me. Are all . . . ?”
“Dead,” Lynx confirmed. “Long ago.”
That night Lynx was awoken by the sound of the monkeyman sobbing softly. Lynx thought: He weeps for his vanquished race. It had not occurred to Lynx that abominations might be capable of such grief. This monkeyman was the last of his kind, probably. And in the end, when the Victory came, he too would be cleansed from the Earth.
