Meepcha and the Lost 100: Book Two in the Cats of Nova Series

By William S. Russell III

Soot, ash and cinders the fire burns brightly but something always remains behind.
An ancient and formless evil was released during the battle in Nova City, an evil that has found its way to earth. One hundred of the mysterious automata, the Ergasi, are missing as well. Without their care Nova City will be doomed to drift in space forever. Now it is up to young Gracie Fisher, her feline guardian Roscoe and their companions Dondo, Bear and Mimyat to set things right, and to somehow reunite Mimyat with her long-lost twin sister Meepcha along the way. Mepcha and the Lost 100 is the exciting sequel to Chermpf, and is the second book in the Cats of Nova series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jun 1, 2017
• ISBN: 9781543903003

Book preview

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Finding the Way

Chidley

PREDAWN BREEZE SLIPPED BETWEEN the worn slats of the garden fence. The vegetation was taller along the fence, escaping the attention of the gardener through the luck of inconvenient location. The longer grass that the mower never seemed to reach rasped gently against the sun-bleached wood just loud enough to hide the steps of velvet feet. The shadows had begun to retreat, as the slightest hint of rose haloed the trees, which were mostly still dark at the eastern horizon. Silently, Dondo dropped to the ground and crouched among the weeds on the west side of the fence. His eyes narrowed, and he held his nose aloft to catch what information the air might bring him. Ears rotating atop his head, he captured the last stirrings of voles, moths and other creatures of the night, interspersed with the rustling of waking birds. He frowned. He wished for a few more hours of dark. The new morning air was not right. There was an unnatural stiffness to it, a stale flavor that the breeze could not stir, as if the atmosphere were being held forcibly in place, pressed down upon the ground, mingling smells that should have wafted free. He also wished he were traveling alone, and he would need to mask his unease from his companions until he could sort out its cause. They had a long way to go and did not know what they would find once they arrived.

Something stinks stinky! blurted Mimyat, as she dropped to the ground next to Dondo with a thud that was disproportionate to her small size.

Dondo sighed quietly. So much for hiding his feelings from the others. Mimyat could smell that something was amiss as well.

She’s right. I smell it too.

Dondo had not noticed that Bear had gone over the fence as well. The large cat, his pelt a cloak of midnight, was just another shadow blending perfectly into the waning dark. Green eyes flashing, Bear watched intently from behind the base of a young horse chestnut tree whose branches would one day shade the west side of the garden.

"There is something unusual in the air, replied Dondo with studied understatement, but we best not stay here to investigate. We have some miles to go before we reach the first way stone, and when the sun comes up, many humans will be stirring. There are roads we must cross, and that will be very dangerous."

Roads? asked Mimyat hesitantly, Miss Mimma no like roads. Loud. Scary. Bad for cats.

Bad for everything, replied Dondo, but don’t worry, Mimyat, I will help you cross safely.

To find Miss Meepcha must cross road? asked Mimyat hesitantly.

Yes, I am afraid so, Mimyat, some very big ones, Dondo said gravely. There was no point in misleading her. Even during a more routine visit to Earth, they would all have needed to be alert.

Mimma doesn’t care as long we find Meep, Mimyat said, nearly convincing herself.

We will. Do not worry, Mimyat. We will find your sister, Dondo reassured her, but we also have to find the missing Ergasi. The future of Nova City may depend on it.

Bear interrupted. Well, we won’t find anything chatting next to the garden.

Right. Follow me, Dondo said, and he sprang into a run, crossing the yard next to the garden in an instant and disappearing behind the garage. Mimyat and Bear locked eyes for a moment, and after him they went.

To its human denizens, the suburban landscape can breed desperation in its monotony. The dreariness lies more within the observer than the observed, however, and as the cats moved from yard to yard in the infant morning, their senses were greeted with a legion of stimuli. Smells, sounds, quick movements and flashes in their peripheral vision, each of the three had to struggle to resist the temptation to explore every new discovery. For Mimyat, it was hardest. Naturally more inquisitive than even her fellow felines, the little tuxedo shook with sensory overload as she chased after Dondo. The smells and sounds were so very different than they were in Nova City! At home there was a peaceful serenity to the air—except for when Pravaal came, she reminded herself—but here on Earth every noise and stink seemed to be competing with the next for prominence in her senses. Her focus on keeping up with Dondo was the one thing that kept her from straying or dawdling in each patch of grass or dirt they crossed. More than anything else, she felt something that was neither smell nor taste, something with a sound unique and all its own, yet interwoven with all of the others. It was the feeling of the wild. It pulled at the little cat, and she knew that if she succumbed to it, she would stray from her path, never to find her sister or the lost Ergasi from Nova. To surrender would be to become one with the wild and never to return. Shaking her head, she ran harder.

The day grew, and with it came the sounds of creatures making their journeys through the day. As the hours passed, the three cats traveled through grassy lots and manicured yards alike, quietly and quickly, stopping neither to rest nor to speak. Just as Mimyat was beginning to long for a nap in the sunlight that remained, Dondo leapt to the top of a chain-link fence surrounding one particularly large yard. Mimyat stood for a moment in the cropped lawn near the base of the fence and watched as Bear easily made the jump to join Dondo. Balancing his large frame on the narrow metal pipe that ran the length of the fence, Bear looked down at Mimyat.

Joining us? I’d hurry up if I were you, he said.

It was then that Mimyat felt it. Behind her, there was a sudden rushing and gasping, a violent and clumsily accelerating charge through the low shrubs that framed the side of the yard they had just entered. Hair on end, without so much as a glance back, she shot to the top of the fence out of reach just as the dog careered to the spot where she had been standing. Denied, the beast uttered a staccato burst of frustrated barks, but it was too lazy to jump at the cats as they sat out of reach on the fence, observing the noisy scene. After a moment, even the barking decreased in frequency to the occasional desultory arf. Finally, the dog plopped down on its pudgy haunches to scratch lethargically behind one ear with a hind paw.

That’s it, Chidley? Finished? Dondo asked, not bothering to hide his amusement.

The dog took an inelegant moment to chew at its own rump, and then, itch abated, it turned back to look up at the cats. Chidley was a later middle-aged dog, with slight graying around a black muzzle, and he had the pretense of being a Labrador. His hair had the slight coarseness of only the occasional night out in the open, and he was more than pleasantly plump.

What are you doing in my yard, Dondo? Chidley asked, voice gruff from his brief bark and the disuse of being accustomed to getting his way with a well-played whine.

Is that any way to welcome a friend? When last I was through here, you couldn’t thank me enough for chasing off that big tom that was spraying your fence every night. You could at least show some courtesy to my friends and introduce yourself properly.

I’m Chidley the dog, Chidley said.

You don’t say, replied Bear.

Mimyat sat quietly on the fence, still collecting her composure from her initial encounter with the canine.

Bear, Mimyat, meet Master Chidley, watchdog extraordinaire, faithful companion and beloved pet. He also happens to be one of the very few dogs who will converse with us, and a very good friend to the cats of both the day and the night watch, when he is in a more pleasant mood, that is, Dondo explained.

Chidley scowled.

Are you going through Freya Dog’s yard to the road? the dog asked.

Yes, we are, and I was hoping for your help, as we want to avoid any unpleasantness, Dondo answered.

The dog pondered Dondo’s request for a moment. He exhaled loudly, perhaps just for effect.

You cats can’t keep running through yards that don’t belong to you. People don’t like it, he said, finally.

People? Well, whatever ‘people’ might say, we don’t always run. Sometimes we walk—stroll, even, said Dondo. Besides, we’ve discussed this. How else am I supposed to save the world if I can’t take the occasional shortcut?

Fine then, Chidley allowed, finally, but it will have to be quick. They’re going to feed me and take me for a walk soon.

Perfect! said Dondo. We can’t dawdle around here anyway. Places to go, people to see, you know how it is.

Chidley huffed, and turned without responding. The three cats remained on the fence and observed his unattractive gait while he crossed to the low shrubs lining the fence, finally plopping down next to the horse chestnut tree on the opposite side of his yard. Somewhere inside the trim white house that belonged to Chidley’s owners, a metal dish clanked on a tile floor. The dog’s ears went up at the sound, and he turned back to his bemused audience.

I told you to hurry up! he said gruffly.

The three jumped down from the fence and quickly crossed the yard in neat single file. They gathered at the base of the fence just under the shrubs.

How is this going to work? asked Bear, wondering why they should be worried about another dog. Bear had met many in his time and there were very few he had been unable to handle.

Dondo recognized the skepticism in Bear’s voice, and motioning with one paw for Chidley to be patient, he explained.

We are not so concerned with Freya Dog, though she can be quite dangerous in her own way, but with her master. Remember, Bear, that as members of the watch we must not draw attention to ourselves, especially with humans. We must appear as ordinary felines in our comings and goings, unless we are with our wards or under extreme circumstances. When we cross the yard, Freya Dog will certainly chase us, but we must not interact with her, as it will be seen.

Miss the she-dog will hurt cats? asked Mimyat.

Yes, Mimyat, and she has been known to kill them at the command of her owner. We will not take her lightly. We do however have an ace to play. Freya Dog is hopelessly in love with our friend Chidley here. He will draw her attention away from us, won’t you, Chidley?

If he had not been covered in hair, one might have seen Chidley blush. He glanced about sheepishly. As if on cue, Chidley’s stomach growled loudly, saving him from his embarrassment.

Are we going to have to sit here yapping all day, or are you going already? Cats. Always acting smarter than they are, he growled.

We are going. Bear and Mimyat, do you see the butterfly bush on the far side of the yard? The two nodded in the affirmative.

Good. We will need to go under the butterfly bush and therefore through, not over, the fence. There is a gap in the fence there that Freya Dog cannot fit through, and once on the other side we will be clear of yards, dogs and humans for a while until we reach the road. When I go over the near fence, make straight for the butterfly bush. Do not hesitate. Freya Dog is extremely quick and trained to hunt and will make almost no sound as she approaches. Chidley will draw her off when we get to the middle of the yard.

Dondo turned to the dog, and smiled.

Thank you, old friend. Be careful. There are things afoot, and the air does not smell right to me. Keep your nose to the ground. I’ll see you on our way back through.

Not if I see you first, Chidley replied. I should never have played with you when I was a puppy. You’re nothing but trouble, you are.

Dondo winked at him, and then he jumped over the fence into Freya Dog’s yard. Mimyat was right behind him, and Bear followed. The grass was not so trim, and it brushed at their flanks as they ran. The yard was large for the suburbs, almost half an acre, with shrubs and trees around much of the perimeter. On the south side of the yard was a pale gray ranch-style house, with a stained wooden deck that ran the length of the back of the house, parallel and close to the path they would take to the butterfly bush. It was from the deck that the angry shout came.

Freya! Get ’em!

A heavyset, shirtless, balding man stood on the steps of the deck watching the cats. He leaned heavily on a cane, and had they taken the time to look they would have seen that he wore a metal brace on his right leg.

"GET ’EM!"

A young, lithe, black-faced German shepherd blasted from the deck behind the man, her feet not touching the ground until she was several yards past the steps. She did not bark as she hurtled after her prey.

Mimyat needed no further convincing, and being by far the fastest of the three cats, she flew past Dondo. It was unlikely that the dog could catch her even on its best day, but Mimyat was taking no chances and was the first to shoot into the butterfly bush. She found the gap just where Dondo said it would be and darted through into the thicket beyond. Turning to look back through the gap, she saw that Dondo was right behind her. Bear was still in the yard.

The black cat had let his pride get the best of him, and he had slowed just a little so that he might give the dog a quick swat as a lesson. A sense of righteous vengeance had bubbled up inside him as he thought of those cats that might have innocently wandered into Freya Dog’s territory and paid a terrible price. Ferocious as Freya Dog was, he was not afraid, and knowing that dogs lead with their muzzles, he whirled with one paw raised and claws unsheathed, ready to allow the dog’s own terrific momentum to contribute to her punishment when he struck her full in the face.

He never got the chance.

A blast of icy cold water from a garden hose with a washer attachment knocked him from his feet and temporarily blinded him. Freya Dog’s master had impeccable aim, and the washer attachment allowed water to reach far out into the yard without the operator leaving the deck. It was more by chance than skill that Bear avoided the dog’s first lunge, her jaws snapping shut with a loud crack, mere inches from his nape. She circled, and he skidded sideways to avoid her, but now Freya Dog blocked the direct path to the butterfly bush. He scrambled toward the deck, only to be struck by another cold blast from the hose.

"GET ’EM!" came the shout again, this time with a hint of triumph.

Off balance, Bear struggled to choose a direction. Freya Dog had completely circled him, and he lost track of her as another jet of water struck nearby. Then, hoarsely, Chidley started barking.

Shut up, you mutt! yelled Freya Dog’s master, but the damage had been done. Incredibly, Freya Dog instantly abandoned her soggy victim and, whining, bolted to where Chidley stood on his side of the chain-link fence. Her master shot a jet of water in Chidley’s direction, but Chidley was no fool, and he had played this game many times before. He had chosen his spot to intervene carefully, and from experience. The young horse chestnut tree took the brunt of the blast from the hose, leaving only a mist of fine droplets to hover over the dog’s head, complete with rainbow in the late afternoon sun. Freya Dog skidded to a halt in front of him, pushed her nose through a link and whined for a sniff of her paramour. Playing hard to get, Chidley sat just out of reach. At that moment he heard his own name called, and with a nod to Freya Dog, he turned and trotted off to get his dinner. By the time she turned back to her own yard, a soaked and humbled Bear had disappeared into the butterfly bush.

Under the Butterfly Bush

EARY-BEAR HIM WET," SHOUTED Mimyat, fear for her friend’s safety more apparent in her tone than in her inimitable choice of words. Bear was more than wet, he was dripping. His thick black pelt was matted to his flanks, and coated with dirt where he had slid down into a low ditch where the cats now crouched, screened from sight under the overgrown butterfly bush. The bush stood at the edge of a large, heavily overgrown lot that separated Freya Dog’s yard from that of the next house, which could not be seen through the riot of small trees, shrubs, and vines that filled the expanse. Left untended, the lot might someday become a small wood. The cats would be well hidden as they recovered from their unpleasant encounter.

Dondo, Bear said breathlessly, I’m sorry.

Dondo said nothing at first, but his tail twitched ever so slightly. An uncomfortable silence grew that even Mimyat knew not to interrupt. When Dondo finally spoke, it was in an even, measured tone that carried with it more than a hint of authority.

"Bear, your senses are keen enough to know that all is not right. The acrid taste on the back of your tongue—do not speak, just listen—I taste it too, as no doubt does Mimyat. That taste is not of the wild, nor is it the work of humans, at least not directly. If what I suspect is causing that flavor to infiltrate the air is indeed happening, then our task of recovering the missing Ergasi will be even more dangerous than I expected. We may already be too late. I cannot, will not, have your impetuousness jeopardize what we must accomplish. Have you considered how Pravaal upset the delicate balance that enables Nova City to exist? What do you think will occur there in our absence? You are a member of the watch now, even if only temporarily. You must at all times act it. I need your help."

Mimyat bounced suddenly as she sat, every ounce of the little cat’s self-control being used to keep from interrupting Dondo. She was desperate to cry out that they needed to find Meepcha too, that her reunion with her sister was important, and in the end she did let out a little squeak despite her best efforts. Dondo looked at her momentarily and then turned back to Bear.

"We need your help."

Bear stood silently, accepting Dondo’s admonishment.

I have no excuse, he said after a moment. It will not happen again.

Try to dry yourself as best you can. It will be dark soon and it may get quite cool. I am going to scout ahead, as the first road we must cross is not far off. Stay here with Mimyat. Without another word, Dondo turned and crept to the edge of the ditch. He sniffed carefully, and his ears strained to pick up an unheard sound. Except for the occasional bird, and the shout of a child playing in a yard or riding her bicycle not far away, all was quiet. As Mimyat watched Dondo go, she thought that she could just make out in the distance a rumble or dull roar of some kind, and the sound had an unpleasant familiarity. She did not dwell on the thought, and as she allowed her mind to conjure up more pleasant thoughts, Dondo went over the edge of the ditch and out of her sight.

Well, I really blew that one, Bear said to no one in particular. He shook himself violently, and Mimyat received a cold shower.

Hey! Bear cat! No me too making wet! Mimma stay the dry! she yelled.

Oh! I’m sorry, Mimyat! said Bear, now even more embarrassed. "I can’t seem to do anything right today."

Mimyat felt the frustration in the big cat’s voice.

Beary-Bear-o, she said, sounding as though she might break into song, or at least a little poem, nobody perfect. But it is important to be scared sometimes. Keeps us safe to run and hide. Scary, big noisy things! The little cat had scared herself a little with imagined frights amid her words of encouragement, and she looked at Bear with wide eyes.

I know. You’re right, Mimyat. When I was little, I was alone and scared all of the time. I told myself that if I ever lived to grow up, I would never be afraid of anything again. He shook himself one more time, drying quickly, and almost no water flew off his coat, but that did not stop Mimyat from ducking an imaginary deluge.

You no afraid! cried Mimyat, Remember him Bear and the fight with bad Pravaal! Buried under clockworks! Poor Beary!

Thank you, Mimyat. But I’m not sure what good it did, Bear said, being unnecessarily hard on himself.

But, but we getted away! Bear gave time to him Roscoe and Missa Gracie and Mimma to run to the dancing lights! Where would we be now if there was no escape? There was no arguing with Mimyat’s logic. Bear plopped to the ground, more or less dry. He tried not to think of the confrontation with the sabertooth in the clockwork room. His internal sense of self told him that should he suffer another injury as great as the one inflicted by Pravaal, he would not awaken again, his time in this world played out once and for all.

Bear—Mimyat interrupted his reflection, almost whispering—do you know where we will my Miss Meepcha find?

No, I don’t, Mimyat, he replied, "and I have no idea where the Ergasi are either. Nor when they are, if I understand the way a prism works. We are going to have to trust Dondo."

Mr. Dondo, him smell something stinky. Mimyat smells the stinky too. Bad. Bad burnted thing.

I know, Mimyat, I smell it too, and I taste it in my mouth. Worse, there is something that I feel in the air, something heavy. I do not know what it is, and I’m not sure that I want to find out.

Mimma knows, she said, her voice steely with intensity.

The big cat cast a wary glance about involuntarily, and he half realized that all the sounds of the neighborhood that had filled the background of their journey thus far, the birds, the children, the world going about its ordinary business, were suddenly completely absent, as if to make it easier for the world to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Beary, Mimyat said, her voice barely even a whisper now, does Bear remember when the Ergies burned the tangle?

Bear remembered, but he did not speak. He looked at Mimyat as the tuxedo’s eyes grew even wider. She leaned in, her nose almost touching his, and he could hardly hear her as she said earnestly:

"Bear cat, that is what Miss Mimma is the smelling."

For a moment, the two sat staring, eyes locked, both knowing that she was right.

A Night Visitor

ONDO POPPED HIS HEAD over the lip of the ditch and then quietly slid under the low-hanging branches of the butterfly bush to drop down with Bear and Mimyat. Neither of them mentioned what they had been speaking about, and neither knew how long they had sat in silence waiting for Dondo to return. They trusted Dondo, and despite their worries and fear of the unknowns that lay before them, they trusted that he would share with them when he felt the time was right to do so.

I have been to the first road we must cross; it is not far from here. You may even hear some of the traffic it is carrying if you listen carefully, he said. This was the dull roar that Mimyat had heard earlier, and she did not relish the thought of seeking out its source.

Are we going there now? asked Bear.

No, not yet, Dondo replied. It will be dark soon. Outside of the big cities, many—but not all—humans follow a predictable cycle of activity during the day, with rest at night. A few hours from now the road will be safer to cross. In the meantime we should get some rest. Tomorrow we will need to take nourishment as well.

Mimma wonder! Mimyat exclaimed. Tummy feel so rumbly-zumbly! Why, Mr. Dondo? Why?

"On Nova, we have the waters of the crystal pool to sustain us, Mimyat. Not so here on Earth. We will need to eat and drink like other animals. It is part of the legacy of humanity’s decision