Serendipity
A Traditional Eccentric!
A little C.A.T.-mas story from the C.A.T. universe for festive cheer....
C.A.T. was curled up on his favourite chair, ignoring the world, Central, Commander Zacman and even Nikita's alluring tail. It had been a busy year and he really needed time to analyse all the data he had acquired during his adventures. He was happily deriving the history of how the moon, Galatea, had evolved. From there he planned to assess which of its characteristics would have given away it had been interfered with.
"Am I parade smart?" Commander Zacman asked.
C.A.T. did not even turn his head to look at Zacman. "Of course you are."
"You've sealed your uniform's left wrist two millimetres looser than the right one," Nikita said.
"Thank you, Nikita."
"I was only doing my duty as your guard cat, which includes ensuring you carry out your duties as well as you possibly can. It reduces the potential for developing enemies."
"Could you please brush your tail under C.A.T.'s nose, so he is alert and ready for when the Mess Sergeant calls."
"I could, but the mood he is in, he is more likely to bite it off rather than admire it. My analysis indicates he has found a way to supersede the I-wanta-a-treat app which would normally lock his video sensors onto my tail."
C.A.T. felt Zacman's fingers tickle him behind his ears. "What's up, C.A.T.?"
"I'm, purr, thinking, purr."
"About what?"
"All those adventures we had this year. Purr, purr, purr."
"You'll have plenty of time for that in the future. Christmas is about looking forward, not backward. It's about hope, rather than acceptance of the inevitable. And above all, it's about having faith that there is a future for us, one that we will be happy with."
C.A.T. jerked his head round and looked up into Zacman's smiling eyes. "Why the philosophy all of a sudden? You're the man of action, the go do man, the gung-ho chap."
"Man cannot live by action alone."
C.A.T. stood up and had a close look at Zacman. Apart from showing the signs of tiredness and strain, there was nothing wrong with him. "I think I'd better get the Doc here to check you over."
Zacman laughed. "He'd only prescribe rest and relaxation, but I can't afford the time off, not with all that's going on at the moment."
"I could stop you from going to the Control Room until you are recovered," Nikita intervened.
"Thank you, Nikita, but it's better for my welfare that I'm in the Control Room. I'd only worry about things if I was not there."
"Why does she get thank yous and I don't? After all I've done for you. And you call this Christmas, and I don't even get a thank you." C.A.T. turned his back on Zacman, sank down onto his haunches and made himself look as sulky as possible.
"Oh C.A.T., I thought you knew."
"Knew what?"
"That you're special, very special, in fact so special that mere thank yous are totally inadequate. That's why companions just give and accept, without asking, without thank yous."
C.A.T. turned his head to eye Zacman. He looked very serious.
"Honestly, that's the way nature works."
"Really?"
"Yes. And you are exceptionally special."
"Aw... You say the nicest things at times."
"So, are you coming along to the carol service?"
"Can't you manage without me?"
"Yes, I could, but I'd prefer it if you were by side. You give off a kind of camaraderie or homeliness. Well sort of. I can't really describe it."
"Put like that, of course I will."
There was a formal knock at the door, which immediately opened as tradition dictated. The Mess Sergeant stood outside at full salute. “You are cordially invited to our humble carol service, sir,” she said.
“At ease, Sergeant,” Zacman saluted back. “I would be delighted to attend.”
C.A.T. jumped off his chair and stood to attention, his tail straight up in the air, beside Nikita.
Zacman glanced at her, and then him. He smiled at him.
“Please lead the way,” Zacman said to the Sergeant.
C.A.T. was curled up on his favourite chair, ignoring the world, Central, Commander Zacman and even Nikita's alluring tail. It had been a busy year and he really needed time to analyse all the data he had acquired during his adventures. He was happily deriving the history of how the moon, Galatea, had evolved. From there he planned to assess which of its characteristics would have given away it had been interfered with.
"Am I parade smart?" Commander Zacman asked.
C.A.T. did not even turn his head to look at Zacman. "Of course you are."
"You've sealed your uniform's left wrist two millimetres looser than the right one," Nikita said.
"Thank you, Nikita."
"I was only doing my duty as your guard cat, which includes ensuring you carry out your duties as well as you possibly can. It reduces the potential for developing enemies."
"Could you please brush your tail under C.A.T.'s nose, so he is alert and ready for when the Mess Sergeant calls."
"I could, but the mood he is in, he is more likely to bite it off rather than admire it. My analysis indicates he has found a way to supersede the I-wanta-a-treat app which would normally lock his video sensors onto my tail."
C.A.T. felt Zacman's fingers tickle him behind his ears. "What's up, C.A.T.?"
"I'm, purr, thinking, purr."
"About what?"
"All those adventures we had this year. Purr, purr, purr."
"You'll have plenty of time for that in the future. Christmas is about looking forward, not backward. It's about hope, rather than acceptance of the inevitable. And above all, it's about having faith that there is a future for us, one that we will be happy with."
C.A.T. jerked his head round and looked up into Zacman's smiling eyes. "Why the philosophy all of a sudden? You're the man of action, the go do man, the gung-ho chap."
"Man cannot live by action alone."
C.A.T. stood up and had a close look at Zacman. Apart from showing the signs of tiredness and strain, there was nothing wrong with him. "I think I'd better get the Doc here to check you over."
Zacman laughed. "He'd only prescribe rest and relaxation, but I can't afford the time off, not with all that's going on at the moment."
"I could stop you from going to the Control Room until you are recovered," Nikita intervened.
"Thank you, Nikita, but it's better for my welfare that I'm in the Control Room. I'd only worry about things if I was not there."
"Why does she get thank yous and I don't? After all I've done for you. And you call this Christmas, and I don't even get a thank you." C.A.T. turned his back on Zacman, sank down onto his haunches and made himself look as sulky as possible.
"Oh C.A.T., I thought you knew."
"Knew what?"
"That you're special, very special, in fact so special that mere thank yous are totally inadequate. That's why companions just give and accept, without asking, without thank yous."
C.A.T. turned his head to eye Zacman. He looked very serious.
"Honestly, that's the way nature works."
"Really?"
"Yes. And you are exceptionally special."
"Aw... You say the nicest things at times."
"So, are you coming along to the carol service?"
"Can't you manage without me?"
"Yes, I could, but I'd prefer it if you were by side. You give off a kind of camaraderie or homeliness. Well sort of. I can't really describe it."
"Put like that, of course I will."
There was a formal knock at the door, which immediately opened as tradition dictated. The Mess Sergeant stood outside at full salute. “You are cordially invited to our humble carol service, sir,” she said.
“At ease, Sergeant,” Zacman saluted back. “I would be delighted to attend.”
C.A.T. jumped off his chair and stood to attention, his tail straight up in the air, beside Nikita.
Zacman glanced at her, and then him. He smiled at him.
“Please lead the way,” Zacman said to the Sergeant.
