Chance Furlong sat rooted to the spot in ultimate terror as the giant alien beetle crawled down the street, people fleeing before his advance, screaming in fear. This was exactly the kind of situation that would've ordinarily called for the intervention of the SWAT Kats. And yet Chance didn't move. Beside him, neither did Jake. Hard Shell - as he'd been dubbed by the smartypants scientists tasked with finding a means of destroying him - resembled an ordinary Earth beetle in all but size, with blazing yellow eyes slanted just right to impart a look of utter malice on an otherwise expressionless face. As the helpless kats fled in all directions, he grabbed an older model sedan in his mandibles, lifting it up; the car crumpled like tinfoil in the process, the windows blowing out, spraying glass everywhere.
Suddenly, a missile flew in and hit Hard Shell on the back. Blam! Chance flinched as it exploded harmlessly across the supreme monstrosity's shell ("carapace," Jake would've corrected him ordinarily, but owing to the situation remained silent). Another flew in and hit him in the face, with exactly the same results, which is to say none at all. Chance stiffened where he sat, the sound of Jake's loud munching filling his right ear. A cold sweat was beginning to trickle down his body, making him shudder as the droplets slithered along underneath the back of his coveralls. This was awful, he thought. How anyone could just sit here and do nothing while this was happening, while this monster from beyond infinity - or wherever he'd come from - had his way with the terrified populace.
Dropping the car, the monster turned to regard the one who dared attack it. A single fighter jet, bearing the colors and insignia of the Army Air Corps, flew high overhead. Chance could see the pilot in the cockpit, helmeted, his face hidden behind flight goggles and an oxygen mask.
"We're not makin' a dent in that Hard Shell!" the pilot exclaimed, pounding his control panel in frustration. Chance knew that everything counted on keeping Hard Shell in one place until the other jets could get there with their loads of insecticide. Then, steeling himself, his eyes, briefly visible through his goggles, he flew 'round and dived down at the creature. "I'm goin' in!"
Guy's braver than I am, thought Chance as his heart leaped into his throat. Whatever this selfless hero attempted to do, it didn't work; as he flew past Hard Shell, the huge, car-chomping mandibles clipped his jet. Chance winced as the left wing was sheared off entirely. The aircraft made a belly landing in the street, leaving a trail of sparks and fire as it slid along, narrowly missing an overturned van before turning in mid slide, its right side colliding against a parked green car. This annihilated the other wing, and the jet sat there for a moment, most of the back end and right side in flames.
Swallowing audibly, Chance's hope swelled as the canopy slid back and the fighter pilot, having taken off his mask, goggles perched up on his helmet, winced, painfully extracting himself from his cockpit... or trying to. Come on, come on, thought Chance. Hurry! He's gonna-- Too late. A shadow fell across him. With a gasp, the doomed pilot turned, eyes wide, to regard his soon to be killer. Hard Shell loomed menacingly above him, mouth open wide, drool flowing copiously from his chitinous jaws.
Making a fist, Chance pounded it impotently against the armrest in frustration. He wanted to yell "Come on!" out loud, but even as angry as he was with the movie, he didn't want to get himself thrown out of the theater. Of course the movie would kill off the character he identified with the most, the cool fighter pilot guy. Not that he could remember the character's name. He'd only been introduced in the last act, and was played by Kit Westwood in an uncredited cameo, but still. It sucked having the brave, cool fighter pilot guy end up as a snack for the title monster a few minutes towards the end.
For Chance, this was enough. Keeping his voice to a hoarse whisper, he turned in his seat in the sixth row and hissed at Jake sitting to his right, "Aw, Jake, you know how I feel about bugs!"
"Yeah," said Jake Clawson, shoveling another handful of popcorn into his mouth, "I was surprised you came with me to see this flick."
So am I, thought Chance. "I thought 'Hard Shell' was about a tank, not some giant beetle."
"Sshhh!"
Chance turned and glared at some dopy guy in a tux. He felt underdressed. He and Jake had come to the theater just after knocking off work. Everyone else at Hard Shell's premiere was dressed "to the nines," as they said, all except for the two grease monkeys in their mechanics' coveralls. Fortunately, nobody seemed to mind, and were mostly too caught up in the excitement and thrills of the monster movie to bother noticing.
Jake was grinning ear to ear, soaking in his friend's indignation. But it was more than just indignation. Chance Furlong had a "thing" about bugs. That was how he explained it, so as not to seem like a wimp. But it ran deeper than that. He palmed his face, irritated at himself for just going along without asking questions. Irritated at Jake for not telling him beforehand there'd not only be a bug, but on big enough to crush cars, bring down fighter jets and eat kats whole.
He consoled himself by telling himself there was no way he could've known; the title was ambiguous, Hard Shell himself didn't actually turn up until near the third act, and although the clues were there, clear enough that Chance had felt the creeping fear crawling its way up his spine as the movie went on, he'd reassured himself that there was no way Hard Shell could be a giant bug; surely it was some villainous mastermind operating a fearsome tank designed to recall a beetle, just like he'd initially thought upon hearing the title.
Jake began getting excited at this point. He sat up a little further in his seat, the popcorn bucket tumbling from his lap, spilling its contents all over the already sticky, trash-strewn floor. He pointed at the movie screen as more fighter jets began flying in. "Shhh!" he hissed to Chance. Why is everyone shushing me tonight? wondered an increasingly nervous Chance. "They're using the bug spray now!" he whispered, as loudly as he dared.
Chance rolled his eyes. Thanks, Captain Obvious.
"Sshhh!" hissed someone behind them. Chance gave an apologetic glance at the hoity toity looking audience members behind him for his friend's enthusiasm making him forget that not everyone had seen Hard Shell and knew how it ended. Jake had already seen this film. In fact, it was a re-release, having originally come out back when they were kids. Chance had never heard of it.
Onscreen, the newly arrived jets swooped in and dropped their payload of slimy white gunk onto Hard Shell's back. Chance made a face. To him, it looked like something else entirely, but if the movie said it was bug spray, albeit bug spray mixed with some other compounds to make it stickier, then it was bug spray. Thoroughly drenched in the gunk, Hard Shell gave an unearthly scream and collapsed. His antennae twitched a final time and then fell limp. He was dead. The fact his favorite character's heroic sacrifice hadn't been in vain didn't do one bit to make Chance feel any better at the fact he was still looking at a giant beetle from space, whose motionless corpse the movie annoyingly insisted on continuing to focus on as the shell-shocked cast of characters walked over, standing around the invader's body. Just staring at the thing dead was giving the big mechanic the creepy crawlies something fierce. More cold sweat slid down his stiffened body as he stared at the screen like a deer in headlights.
"He's finished," said the handsome lead scientist character definitively. Chance hadn't bothered to remember his name either. "But for good?" he asked rhetorically, putting his arm around his love interest, who was attractive in a 60s-70s kinda way. Chance couldn't remember who she was or what she did for a living or what, if anything, she'd contributed to the plot. But he wasn't focused on her. He was focused on what the hero was saying.
Come on, come on, begged Chance, say he's dead for good and won't come back and there's no more like him comin', though he knew that there was a sequel coming out soon - which was in fact the reason for this much-anticipated re-release. But he still wanted to hear the words before he left the theater. His poor, jangled nerves needed it. And he was ashamed of it. But then the scientist continued. "Who knows?" he asked of no one in particular. He turned to the camera, seeming to look out at Chance in particular. Chance's eyes were as wide as saucers, his pupils shrunken to tiny little pinpoints, his mouth a tiny little "O" of stupefied worry. "Who knows what lies beyond the stars?" the scientist asked.
"Oh!" Chance finally blurted out in horror, covering his eyes as "The End...?" came on the screen in a dripping, blood red font. He shuddered at the very idea that there wwas anything even remotely like Hard Shell out there in the unexplored regions of the universe... in the movie's reality or in this one. A few of the other kats in the audience turned and looked at him. Now it was Jake's turn to give apologetic glances for his friend.
~*~
A little while later, the two of them were walking out of the front entrance of the Megakat Multiplex, having been among the first to leave in the hopes of beating the crowds to the parking lot. Chance felt an intense sense of relief as he stepped out into the humid summer night air, which felt good against his sweaty fur.
"I give this flick two claws down!" he said with a smirk, giving signature Catskill and Felbert "two claws down" gesture with both thumbs, some of his usual bravado returning, though he still felt his heart beating fast.
He cast a glance at the marquee. Hard Shell, Hard Shell, Hard Shell! It was insane to think that dopy monster movie was playing on five of the thirty screens the Megakat Multiplex had to offer. He would've much rather seen Claw Hard 3 or even Feline Instinct.
Jake, for his part, considered asking why his friend obviously had such a problem with a fictional giant monster when they regularly fought real ones as the SWAT Kats, but didn't press the issue. Mostly because he wanted to respect his friend's feelings. If and when Chance wanted to talk about his problem with Hard Shell, he would, and pushing him was a bad idea. Besides, if he asked without invitation, especially now, he knew Chance would just clam up and lie, insisting that the movie had simply caught him off guard and that he totally didn't have a problem with bugs. Though Jake knew better. Any time there was an insect or spider in the house, it was Jake Clawson who had to deal with it while Chance did everything except climb up on the nearest piece of furniture, doing a panicky little dance. He'd find it funny if it wasn't obvious it caused Chance very real distress.
"Hey look, a shooting star!" cried Chance suddenly as they were halfway across the parking lot. He pointed.
Grateful for the chance in subject, Jake stopped and followed his pointing finger. What appeared to be a comet or meteorite was shooting across the starlit sky, leaving a fiery trail as it went. "Negative, Chance," he said, knowing what it was, having seen the latest Spotlight on Science report on Kat's Eye News. "It's just that space center satellite returning from orbit."
Kat Sat 1, he thought as the two continued on towards the tow truck. Though he wasn't an astrophysicist, Jake Clawson had tremendous respect for science and he valued knowledge of the world the kats lived in, and he envied who was going to get to find out what secrets from beyond the known galaxy the probe had managed to discover.
Chance, of course, just made a joke. "Darn," he said as they got into the tow truck, "and I was gonna wish I never had to see another bug."
~*~
Kat Sat 1, the pride and joy of the MASA deep space probe project, sat half buried in a smoking crater out in the middle of the Megakat Desert near a tall, narrow rock formation, the only noticeable landmark around for miles. Everything else was just plain boulders and plateaus. Having gotten out of their vehicles, the two scientists approached it with something like reverence. Their demeanor, coupled with their hooded clean suits sporting radiation symbols on the chest lending them an air of somewhat offsetting anonymity, made them look less like scientists and more like alien visitors or perhaps followers of some strange religion.
"I've waited two long years for this," said the one in the lead. His suit was trimmed in orange to distinguish him from his companion. Unafraid, he went right up to the satellite and laid a hand reverently, feeling the heat of the metal through the insulated glove. His colleague hung back, hesitating. They weren't sure if Kat Sat 1 was safe to approach just yet, and the lead figure's brazen act of just walking up to the thing was a trifle unprecedented.
The hand laying upon the Kat Sat 1 - his Kat Sat 1, he reminded himself - didn't betray the excitement that the suited figure felt. This was the culmination of years of hard work, years of arguing with the money men about the cost versus the reward and all that nonsense. Behind the opaque visor of the suit's hood, he was smiling with tremendous excitement and satisfaction. He thought he could almost feel the already diminishing heat from the satellite flowing through him.
"Now the secrets of the stars will be mine!" he declared aloud.
"There are no secrets from Kat's Eye news!" said a female voice from nearby.
The two MASA scientists jerked in surprise, nearly jumping out of their skin in surprise. Two hooded heads turned, eyes squinting through their visors at the approach of an attractive, auburn-haired woman holding a microphone. Behind her came a burly male kat in a purple sweater, sunglasses and baseball cap, filming over the woman's shoulder with a large video camera. The man in the orange-trimmed suit recognized the woman instantly. Ann Gora. But where had she come from? He hadn't heard the approach of an engine. Behind her and her cameraman, he could see their vehicle, a news van, parked partially hidden behind a rock formation.
"Ann Gora here in the desert with Dr. Harley Street," she was saying into her microphone, speaking to the man in the orange-trimmed suit, "brilliant creator of the satellite Kat Sat 1!"
Harley Street frowned behind the impenetrable visor of his suit's hood. He didn't like the unexpected. Had the two gotten there before them and then hidden behind the boulder, waiting to leap out and ambush them like a couple of kids waiting to yell "Surprise!" at some friend's birthday party?
And that was in fact what they'd done, though throughout it all Ann had had to force herself not to giggle at the childishness of waiting behind the big rock with Jonny to jump out and surprise the arriving scientists. She'd initially planned to wait a little longer, until the men from MASA had had more of a chance to properly examine the probe and begin removing it to take it back to the space center, but her eagerness to talk to Street had gotten the better of her. Although he and his companion were currently hidden from view by their suits, she knew what he looked like and she had to admit, although she ordinarily maintained a professional detachment in her work, she had to admit that she had a small crush on the astrophysicist. She had in fact fought for this assignment. She didn't normally do Spotlight on Science, but if Tab Mouser thought he was going to be the one to interview Harley Street, that square-jawed, grinning idiot had another thing coming.
A grinding, rumbling motor signaled the approach of the retrieval truck which had left the space center with Street but which had fallen a ways behind his car, owing to the rough terrain of the desert. It finally stopped, tires crunching on the dirt. Two hardhatted technicians in teal jumpsuits and mirrored sunglasses hopped down from the cab. Taking his own hood off, the other scientist who'd arrived with Street went over and began directing them in the removal of the probe from the crate. This would be accomplished with a big, extending crane-like mechanism that rose from the back of the truck, swinging over to position itself above Kat Sat 1, which had by now cooled down and was no longer smoking.
Managing to compose herself, Ann stopped as she reached Street, holding her microphone out towards him at a respectful distance. Behind him, the other man from MASA was giving the probe a once-over. "Well, what’s the story, Doctor?"
Dr. Street composed himself. Although he was still a little annoyed at having been blindsided, to say nothing of this reporter getting there before him, he was already getting over it. He relished the opportunity to talk about his work with someone, and besides, having seen Ann Gora on TV many times over the years, he had to admit, she was quite attractive. Smiling, he pulled his hood off, revealing an unremarkably rugged handsome face with broad features and strong cheekbones. Stylishly tousled headfur cut short crowned his head.
Tucking his hood under his arm, he said, "The probe survived reentry undamaged, Ann, but I’ll be able to tell you much more after I’ve examined it back at the lab." He'd already decided that as much as he liked Ms. Gora, he didn't have the time to talk her. About the Kat Sat 1 or anything else. At least not tonight. He began walking towards the car he and the other scientist, his assistant, had come in, a dark red sedan with the MASA logo on the doors. Ann followed, Jonny filming them both.
As a big magnet descended from the crane, grabbing the Kat Sat 1, Street decided on a plan of action. He'd get the scientific nitty gritty out of the way tonight and then spend the rest of the day being interviewed by the pretty Ms. Gora. And not in the middle of nowhere, either, but in the comfort of his office back at MASA. He opened the driver's side door of the sedan and paused, turning to smile flirtatiously at her. "Say, why don't you stop by the space center tomorrow?" he asked gently, giving a friendly little chuckle.
Ann was excited. A private interview with Dr. Street! "What am I? Chopped liver?" she could almost hear Jonny saying; as much as she liked Jonny and depended on him, in her enthusiasm she could sometimes forget he was there. She almost considered telling him to remain behind so she could go alone. "Kat's Eye News will be there, Dr. Street," she said.
Satisfied, Street, got into his car, waited for the other scientist to get in, then turned the key in the ignition. They threw their hoods into the back seat. As they drove off, the magnetic crane, carefully manipulated by the two trained technicians, lifted the Kat Sat 1 from the impact crater. Crumbling - and in some cases smouldering and burned - bits of earth and rocks fell from the bottom as it swung gently in the air. Then with a loud whirring noise that made Ann and Jonny turn and watch, the crane swung back into its "neutral" position and retracted, fastening the satellite into a specially designed clamp on the rear of the truck. Jonny filmed it with his camera for some B-roll before Ann tapped his shoulder.
"Let's go, Jonny," she urged him, and the two walked back to where they'd left the van.
"Lucky you," Jonny said. "Gettin' to interview Doc Street." He smirked, knowing about his employer's crush on the scientist. "Mouser's gonna pitch a fit."
"Let him," Ann said. She was beaming.
They got into the van and drove off. As the two technicians finished making sure that the Kat Sat was secured, they walked back to the cab of the truck. Consequently, no one was standing at the rear of the vehicle when a lumpy, viscous, greenish-yellow substance began slowly oozing out from between one of the seams of the metal and flowing sluggishly down the exterior of the satellite...
~*~
The Megakat Space and Aeronautics Administration was a sprawling facility located in the middle of the desert. Like most government and private installations in and around Megakat City, it boasted a variety of defenses against attack in the form of both manned and automated laser turrets which ringed the perimeter of the property. Armed guards were everywhere, seeming to outnumber the researchers and other employees, especially now that it was the middle of the night and there was basically no one else around except them.
And Harley Street. Upon returning to the space center, Street had insisted, nay, demanded that the Kat Sat 1 be taken into his private laboratory for examination. The workers lugged the thing into the lab and placed it carefully on the special examination table designed for it, where it sat with a camera aimed at it. The camera was on the end of a jointed metal arm descending from the ceiling, and its indifferent, aloof electronic eye just happened by chance to be focused on the blob of slime that'd been steadily oozing from the side of the probe ever since it left the desrt. Though now the flow had slowed and it dripped no further, seeming to just hang there of its own accord in defiance of gravity. This was shown on a TV screen on the bank of monitors at the far end of the room, though Street paid it no mind as he finished supervising the workers.
The workers had noticed the stuff, as had the technicians who'd driven the truck back from the desert and supervised its unloading in the high security motor pool. But none of them had considered bringing it up to either Street or his assistant. None of them were qualified to identify the weird-looking substance, and it looked too gross to touch, so they'd decided to leave it to the experts to notice. Street had a reputation of being hyper-observant. Surely he would find it and figure out what it was.
And ordinarily, they would've been right. But that fateful night, Harley Street was a hectic mixture of exhausted and excited, his mind going in a million different directions at once and struggling to fight off sleep. The same applied to the other scientist who'd accompanied him. He was tired as well, and Street's enthusiasm for the Kat Sat project was not exactly infectious at half past midnight.
As the two hardhatted kats trudged out of the room to clock out, leaving the lab door open, Street hurriedly struggled free of his clean suit. His assistant, Weyland Thorne, who'd accompanied him out to the Megakat Desert stood watching him, still in his own suit with the hood tucked under one arm. He was bleary-eyed and wanted to go home. He both admired and was annoyed by Street's enthusiasm.
"Surely this can wait until tomorrow," he mumbled, stifling a yawn.
"Nonsense!" said Street, putting on a shirt and tie. Even though he looked about as tired as Thorne felt, he was running on pure excitement and adrenaline. "This can't wait another moment!" he said breathlessly as he finished tying his black necktie. Grabbing his lab coat off an ornate antique coat rack, the only non-scientific furnishing in the room, he said dismissively, but sympathetically, "Go home if you're tired."
Yawning, the other scientist shrugged indifferently and left, shutting the door after him and entering the security code which would prevent anyone but authorized personnel from entering and disturbing his employer. No sooner had he slipped on his lab coat, which was such a light color of blue it looked deceptively white, than Street immediately went to work. He carefully removed the Kat Sat's data recorder unit from what amounted to the rear of the probe, still not sparing either the pulsating glob of ooze or the picture of it on the TV screen a second glance as he carried the heavy device to the terminal and plugged it in. Immediately, the other TV screens came to life, showing images of distant nebulae and planets. Street's breath caught and his pulse quickened. Such celestial beauty!
He activated a tape recorder built into the console. "The Kat Sat's data recorders have surpassed by expectations!" he began. Smirking smugly, remembering all those budget meetings with the facility's project directors and money men, he added, triumphantly, "And to think the fools here were ready to cut off my funding."
He frowned as he flicked through the various high-resolution pictures taken by the Kat Sat. It might do to make sure he deleted that offhanded remark against his superiors. Complainers didn't get very far at MASA. Or anywhere, for that matter. He decided to focus on a picture of one planet in particular, which looked like it might support life, the possibility of which intrigued him. It clearly had an atmosphere of some sort and orbited a sun not unlike Earth's. Evidently the Kat Sat thought this world worth investigating as well, because as Street clicked through the pictures, it became evident that this world was one of the ones the probe had decided to visit and examine more closely rather than simply photographing it from space and passing it by.
The picture of the planet's surface looked bizarre and unsettling. It was a blasted, tortured-looking landscape that look somehow both alien and familiar. But Street couldn't put his finger on what exactly it was about this strange, empty landscape of twisted, malformed geological formations that struck him as being somehow familiar. He clicked "next." The next picture was of a big greenish-yellow globular growth clinging to the side of a ruined cliff. What was this? Life?
"Never saw anything like that before," he murmured, then described for the record what he was looking at. Another click. The next photo was closer. The thing didn't look any more pleasant up close. Frowning, Street stared at this thing, whatever it was, this possible indicator of life on another world. He'd have to alert the exo-biology department immediately. Reaching up, he rubbed the screen thoughtfully, studying the growth. "Reminds me of an... insect's cocoon."
That was the best comparison he could come up with. He was no entomologist. Surely someone in exo-biology would know what it was. Out of the corner of his right eye, he noticed the TV screen showing the lab camera's view of the side of the Kat Sat... and the glob of ooze clinging to the side. He was just opening his mouth to say aloud that it looked like the exact same substance from that tortured alien world when he heared a sound off to his left. It was a squeaky chittering noise. He turned, frowning. It was coming from the satellite from where it sat on the examination table. Leaving the wall of TV monitors, he walked around the probe until he saw the greenish-yellow substance on the side.
"Looks like something got stuck in the seam," he said, idly wondering if anyone else had noticed it and, if so, why they hadn't told him.
He reached out to touch it, then stopped. Bad idea. He really was tired if he came that close to making such an elementary, boneheaded mistake as touching an unidentified, possibly alien substance with his bare hand! Sighing, he decided that as soon as he was done examining this weird gunk, whatever it was, he was going to go lay down. There was a comfortable couch in his office that was calling his name. He grabbed a latex glove and pulled it on, and only then did he grab and attempt to pull the stuff free from the side of the satellite. It was incredibly sticky and didn't seem to want to come loose. Having failed to remove it, he decided to examine it where it was, prodding into its soft, slimy interior with one finger, making a face.
Suddenly, two black, pincher-like mandibles emerged from within the center of the gunk. Street had no time to react, no time to jerk his hand back before they bit his probing finger. He yelled in surprise and pain. The latter soon eclipsed the former as what he could only describe as a burning fire shot up his arm and into his body. Still yelling, he felt his legs give under him even as he turned towards the lab door and promptly collapsed face-first on the floor. There he lay shuddering as the pain burned its way into his mind. His very consciousness. And with the pain, which was already subsiding, came something else. A new understand. A new purpose. He felt a voice in his head.
Mine, it said. You are mine. And soon this world will be as well.
It wasn't a voice that spoke with words. Nevertheless, he understood it perfectly. It was her. The queen.
"Yes, I understand," he said.
He slowly got to his feet. When he opened his eyes, they were no longer normal kat eyes, but green, insectoid compound ones. His transformation had begun. It would take several days, perhaps longer, but soon he would become something more than a mere kat. The child and consort of the thing, the creature, the divine mental presence which still squirmed in her infancy in the cocoon that even now was bulging obscenely from the seam of the Kat Sat 1. He was the first of many. He turned and regarded her as she extracted herself halfway out of the slime. A purple-furred extraterrestrial that appeared to be a cicada with feline features. But unlike any Earth-bound cicada, she had blazing red compound eyes and large, wickedly pointed black mandibles.
She wasn't very big, but soon she'd begin growing, and, with luck, never stop. She'd soon have other consorts just like him, for this was one of the two ways in which his new benefactor's race reproduced. As for the other... despite her young age, the queen was ready to lay her eggs, but to do so she needed somewhere cloistered and away from prying eyes, and most importantly, where there could be food for both herself and her hatchlings. And for him and the other kats soon to be bitten and converted, Street realized.
He knew just the place. He held out his hands. The queen crawled into them, tugging the gunky slime of her cocoon with her as she went. It still clung to her and filled Street's hands to overflowing.
"I will do everything in my power to help you conquer this world."
Hiding his eyes was the main problem. Fortunately, he found a pair of black sunglasses that would do the trick. He certainly looked odd, walking down the hallway, wearing sunglasses indoors and carrying a gunky lump of vomitous sludge before him in both hands (the alien queen having secreted herself in its center once more), but he didn't look as alarming as he would if those fly-like eyes had been on fully display.
His destination was the nuclear furnace which powered the entire facility. A burly guard with a mustache was standing outside the door leading to the reactor, surrounded by radiation symbols. He had a laser gun in a holster at his side. Street didn't know his name and didn't care. It didn't matter. At his approach, the guard stood a little straighter, exuding professionalism, but his voice and attitude were friendly, conversational.
"What brings you down the reactor, Doc?" he asked.
Street didn't respond. He simply stood there with the glob of gunk in his hands.
"And what's that stuff?" the guard asked, making a face.
Finally, Street spoke. Holding up the handful of slime, he said, "It's... a surprizzze."
There was a slight "buzz" to his voice. The guard noticed it, but was more interested in the stuff being held up for him to examination. He grimaced, staring at it in morbid fascination... when suddenly, like a grotesque kat-in-the-box, something purple with red eyes shot out from inside it. The guard felt it bite his neck and collapsed to the floor. Another one for the growing army…
~*~
It was the following morning at the garage. Chance was under an orange sedan belonging to Mr. Spinaldo, one of their few regular customers besides that one little old lady whose name he always forgot. Jake was standing by to assist him. The TV was on, though it was just background noise. Apart from the occasional commercial, there were constant updates for the upcoming Spotlight on Science segment from Kat's Eye News, where Ann Gora was going to be interviewing that smartypants scientist Dr. Street. Jake was interested, but Chance couldn't care less.
The big mechanic grumbled as he strained with a particularly stubborn lugnut on the car's undercarriage, muscles bulging. Jeez, what had Spinaldo done to the dang thing? Hit speed bumps going 90? He sighed. Oh well. Spinaldo being a terrible driver who didn't take good care of his car meant more work for his and Jake's struggling business, and that was okay by him.
He hadn't slept well that night. Much as he hated to admit it, and he'd never tell Jake, but he'd had nightmares about giant bugs from outer space coming down to invade the Earth. If he never saw another bug or anything even like a bug again as long as he lived he could die a happy kat...
He sighed, extending his hand out from under the car. "Jake, hand he a wrench..." he said tonelessly.
"You got it," said Jake, retrieving the requested tool from the toolbox.
His friend's request for the wrench had been the first thing he'd said since they'd begun work on Spinaldo's car, and it was obvious Chance wanted to be absorbed in his work and not converse. He strongly suspected it had a lot to do with their trip to the theater the previous night and was doing his best to respect his friend's obvious desire to work in silence, standing with his arms crossed, occasionally glancing at the TV and wishing the news would get to that Spotlight on Science segment already. He was intensely interested in hearing what that MASA guy Street had to say about what the Kat Sat 1 had found out in deep space. He loved science and technology of all kinds.
Under Spinaldo's car, Chance was about to put the wrench to work when suddenly he noticed it crawling up his left sleeve. It. The biggest dang spider he'd ever seen. He just about had a panic attack and began flailing wildly, screaming, "Get this thing offa me!" The wrench flew from his hand and sailed across the garage.
Jake ducked and the wrench clanged off the wall harmlessly behind him, though it chipped the already aged mortar. Unable to help himself, he said, "Hey, Chance, are you a kat or a mouse...?" as his friend scrambled out from under the car, holding his arm out and away from himself as though the spider clinging to his sleeve were contagious. With a smirk, he bent down and gently grabbed the offending arachnid between thumb and forefinger and flicked it away.
"There," he said, "the big bad spider's gone."
Chance sighed. "Sorry I almost clocked you when that wrench..."
Jake frowned and crossed his arms. It was obvious Chance's problems with the arthropods of the world ran far deeper than just being squicked by one cheesy sci-fi movie. Despite his decision the previous night to respect Chance's evident refusal to discuss the matter, now that he'd almost been brained by a wrench due to his friend's wild flailing over a perfectly harmless house spider, Jake decided it was time for answers. "I think it's about time you told me just what it is with you and bugs."
"Later," said Chance, getting back under the car.
"Chance..." Jake began with a sigh.
"I said later!" came the barking reply from under the sedan. "And hand me that wrench again. We don't wanna keep Spinaldo waiting. You know how he gets..."
Jake sighed again and kicked the wrench under the car to Chance with his foot. So much for that attempt to get to the bottom of things. Maybe later, after their customer had come and picked up his car.
~*~
The Kat's Eye News van drove along the winding desert road that lead to the front gates of the Megakat Aeronautics and Space Center, Megakat City's primary center for research into all things related to astronomy, astrophysics and outer space in general. Riding in the passenger seat as Jonny drove, Ann was excited. And not just for the story. She was anxious to see Harley Street again. Part of her felt foolish, like a schoolgirl with a crush on a respected teacher, but another part didn't get care. Even if nothing came of it - she had no illusions that an actual relationship would develop - she still looked forward to seeing the scientist again. And besides, she was getting one over that smiling jerk Tab Mouser, and that was worth any trip out into the middle of the desert, and away from the Mayor's white elephant of a building, at least for the day.
Yes, evidently Manx was not one given to heeding omens, and had ordered Megakat Tower rebuilt and reopened almost immediately after its destruction a few months prior. More of the city's ever dwindling budget sunk into that 300-story monstrosity for, as far as Ann could see, little to no gain. Construction had managed to get done ahead of schedule and the building's grand reopening was taking place the day after tomorrow. Rumor had it Manx had invited that Siamese businessman Mr. Young back to inspect the building ahead of the event.
Ann had been assigned specifically to cover the Megakat Tower event. Despite her excellent coverage of Dr. Viper's takeover of the building and its subsequent destruction, her editor, ever a stickler, insisted her job wasn't done; he'd assigned her to get an exclusive about Mayor Manx's business deal with the Siamese investors, not Viper's latest wacko scheme to conqueror the city. Besides, he'd pointed out, the Megakat Times had beat Kat's Eye News to the punch with their eye-catching headline about the event, "Destructive Nature!" Therefore, Ann's editor considered her assigned task incomplete, and only by covering Megakat Tower's "reopening" (even though it had technically never opened in the first place) could she absolve herself. Putting her foot down, she'd managed to twist his arm and get him to let her do this in Tab's place.
Her editor had responded by insisting she instead try and get something out of Manx's meeting with Young when he arrived by plane tomorrow, but she'd talked him out of it; after the disastrous attempt to open the building the first time, Manx was playing things close to the vest, and was unlikely to let any press near Young until the actual (re)opening ceremony. Her editor had conceded - much to Tab Mouser's annoyance - and now here she and Jonny were.
Jonny slowed as the van approached the front gate. A security guard in a green uniform with a holstered sidearm waved them through. The gate opened and Jonny drove on through. He found a place to park, and, grabbing his camera, he and Ann got out and walked towards the main building. In the main lobby, they talked to another MASA guard, who escorted them to the front desk, which was manned by yet another guard. This one looked especially bored and tired. He didn't bother looking up from the coffee he was drinking.
"Ann Gora to see Dr. Street," the first guard said.
The guard behind the desk didn't seem impressed. "Name?" he asked blandly without setting his coffee mug down.
Ann was annoyed but managed a smile. "Ann Gora, like the nice man said."
"ID?"
She handed the second guard her press credentials as the first one turned and walked off. "My cameraman and I are expected."
The guard behind the desk finally set his coffee aside and scanned the badge and the machine he used, some kind of identifier, beeped. There was a pause and something flashed up on a screen that Ann couldn't see. After a moment, the bored-looking guard seemed as satisfied as he was capable of looking, and handed the ID card back.
"Ah, you're the one here to interview Dr. Street. Street's office is down the hall and to the right. Follow the signs. And don't go to the left. That's where our nuclear furnace is and that's off-limits," he added, somewhat imperiously. Ann nodded. As she and Jonny headed off, the guard, grabbing his mug again, said over his shoulder, "I gotta warn you, though, the Doc's in a mood today."
"A mood...?" asked Ann, pausing. Jonny walked a bit ahead and stopped too, looking back.
"Yeah. He's shut up in his office. Just don't be too disappointed if he doesn't wanna go through with the interview."
The guard said no more and returned to his coffee. Ann frowned and continued on, Jonny trailing after. Street was in a mood? It was clear to Ann that it was the rude guard at the desk who was the one in a bad mood. He must've gotten up on the wrong side of the bed. She and Jonny came to a T-shaped intersection at the end of a hallway. Plaques serving as signs indicated that to the left was off-limits areas - Ann saw signs for "Laboratories," "Launchpads," "Mission Control" and "Reactor." Signs pointing to the right simply said "Administration," so that was where she and Jonny went. It was a long, almost featureless hallway, with corrugated walls and multiple doors with frosted windows, most of them unadorned with any signage.
Ahead was yet another one of MASA's omnipresent security guards. He was a big kat with a mustache and was wearing purple-tinted sunglasses that hid his eyes. Like all his co-workers, he was armed with a holstered laser pistol... but this particular guard evidently felt that this was insufficient, for he was also holding a large and menacing-looking laser rifle, barrel up, finger near the trigger. He was standing right by what could only be Street's office - it read "Dr. Street - MASA" on the frosted glass window - and something about him made Ann uneasy. Whether it was the - to her - needless extra armament of the rifle or his rigid posture - he didn't move at all as they approached - something about this particular kat made the reporter uneasy. Besides, what was with this third layer of security after the main gate and the front desk?
Nevertheless, maybe he was just the kind of guy who took his job very seriously. Besides, perhaps the extra security just meant that something earthshaking and revolutionary had been discovered with the Kat Sat. And that thought made Ann more determined than ever to interview Street, so she put her game face on, smiling her best smile, and walked up to the guy, who struck her as the one to talk to about being denied or admitted entry into the scientist's office.
"Hello," she said, and the guard finally turned his head and regarded her and Jonny from behind the impenetrable purple lenses of his shades. He said nothing, so Ann continued. "Ann Gora of Kat's Eye news, here to interview Dr. Harley Street." She hoped this would be enough. If it wasn't, she was prepared to show this guard her press pass too.
Instead, the guy just said, "Sorry, Dr. Street gave orders he's not to be disturbed." There was a weird tonelessness to his voice, like he was reciting from a script he'd spent all night memorizing, and his expression was completely blank. Even weirder, he followed the sentence up with one of the most bizarre verbal tics Ann had ever noticed, a kind of buzzing mumble.
Ann decided to let that pass without comment. Maybe he just had some kind of weird speech impediment. Instead, she focused on the fact she'd just been denied entry to an interview she'd been personally invited to. Feeling irritated, she said, "But I just spoke to him yesterday." She kept her voice even, trying not to let her irritation show. She knew getting angry with this guard wouldn't get anywhere but told to turn around and march right back the way she'd come.
The guard was unmoved. He turned his head back around so that he was back to looking at the blank wall across the hallway and not at the reporter and her cameraman and hefted the rifle slightly higher, finger moving almost imperceptibly towards the trigger. "Sorry, ma'am," he said, not sounding sorry in the least, his expression still unreadable, "I have my orders."
There was movement in the office. The door suddenly flung open and Harley Street stepped out. The guard's head automatically jerked around to face him. Like him, Street was wearing sunglasses indoors - Ann couldn't even begin to fathom why - and the room behind him was a black, featureless void; all the lights were office. "What's going on out here?" he demanded in a voice that was somehow both angry and yet weirdly emotionless, his voice quick and breathy, beads of sweat standing out on his face, as though he were nervous or had just gotten done running a marathon.
Despite this complete change in demeanor from the previous night, Ann was happy to see him. She held up her microphone. "I'm here for our interview, Doctor, remember?" she said, giving him her best winning smile.
"Not now!" Street hissed, his voice suggesting great impatience and irritation. "I've got more important things to do!" And with that - and a quick "bzzz" sound similar to that made by the guard a moment ago, he receded back into the total darkness of his office and slammed the door so hard Ann jumped.
Was... was he telling her to "buzz off" with that last bit? Ann was shocked. She hadn't taken Harley Street for someone who'd be so... juvenile.
Evidently that wasn't enough, for the guard stepped forward and grabbed Ann's shoulder. "You heard him!" he snarled. His grip was like a vice and Ann's anger at Street's inexcusable rudeness and his violation of his promise to her were momentarily forgotten and replaced by fear. She allowed herself to be steered unresisting by the guard away from the door and back the way she and Jonny had come, and a wave of relief washed over her when his hand let go.
Rubbing her shoulder, she glanced back, watching the guard resume his post by the door. "What's eatin' them...?" asked Jonny.
"I don't know, Jonny," Ann replied darkly, "but we're not leaving here without a story." Even if that story was what a rude jerk Harley Street, Ann thought angrily.
"Yeah," agreed Jonny. "Sure beats coverin' the reopenin' of Megakat Tower..."
Ann had to agree. But what kind of story could she wrangle out of this disastrous visit? Street turning out to be a short-tempered jerk without any people skills was hardly news. Everyone knew brilliant researchers were prone to eccentric behavior. How would that make for interesting viewing material? Besides, she had no interview, unless one of the guards was willing to talk. As she and Jonny neared the T junction, she considered asking the guard manning the front desk to go on record about Street's odd behavior. But that would mean she still had basically nothing to bring back to her bosses... and after all the effort she'd gone to to get this assignment in the first place!
That was when she heard the noise…
Ann paused. "What was that?" she asked. The sound was something like an ominous, echoey gurgle. She and Jonny paused, listening. And it was coming from the hall directly in front of her. In the direction she'd been instructed not to go and which all the signs warned her very blatantly were off-limits to visitors. "It's coming from down here..."
"Annie..." Jonny warned her, casting a quick glance down the hall to their left, where the main lobby was.
The guard at the front desk was talking to the one who'd escorted them in. If either of them saw them, they'd be kicked out, and he wanted to tell this to Ann, but she was already heading down the hallway. Jonny sighed. Sometimes he wondered why he put up with her. She'd had multiple cameramen before him, and they'd all quit except for him. He had a strong sense of loyalty to her because he admired her dedication, though sometimes, like now, he thought her dedication came dangerously close to obsession. Not for nothing her nickname among her co-workers was "Ann-bitious." Nevertheless, he followed her.
Ann moved carefully down the hallway, on the lookout for any guards or other employees who might spot them and try to halt their progress. There was no one. At a corner which led off into another hallway, there was a sign that said "Reactor," complete with the standard radiation warning symbol. Rounding the corner, she and Jonny found themselves staring at an enormous, reinforced lead door with a viewing window set into it. The sound, whatever it was, was coming from in there...
~*~
Dr. Harley Street stood impassively in the darkness of his office. The overhead lights were off and the shades were drawn. It wasn't entirely dark. Some weak light from the hall filtered in through the frosted glass window of the door, which he couldn't do anything about. He was waiting, just as the office's other occupant was. Waiting for the eggs to hatch. The queen had grown in record time after exposure to MASA's on-site reactor, as well as the consumption of the radioactive materials the facility kept on hand for various experiments, materials Street, as a senior researcher, had been able to get his hands on without any problems. If his superiors, who'd be coming in later that day, complained, he'd just introduce them to his new friend, and then they'd happily agree that MASA's stores of radioactive material were better served as food for the... well, they didn't have a name, exactly; none Street knew of.
And no matter how hard he probed mentally, he couldn't get the queen to give him a definite answer. The mental connection wasn't exactly a two-way street. She could connect to him easily, but he found doing it the other way around extremely difficult. Besides, her thoughts were jumbled and confused to some degree. Well, not confused. Alien. And he was still trying to accustom himself to her erratic thought patterns. Near as he could tell, the closest thing to a name her kind had given themselves loosely amounted to "the Joining." Street, though, thought they looked kind of like cicadas, just with feline features, and so for the present, the name he'd settled on for the queen and her impending brood was "Ci-Kat-A." The queen hadn't objected to this.
He was still troubled by his inability to see into her mind more clearly, though. He saw the mind of the guard she'd bitten the other night just fine. He even knew his name now, though it was unimportant. Street thought he could see the mind of the guard but not the queen's because he, Street, had been the first person she'd bitten upon arriving, and so he thought - no, he knew - that he had a special connection to her no one else had, including the ability to lord over all the other weak-minded individuals bitten and converted. They would all just become drones, as mindless as the ones currently gestating in the eggs in the nuclear furnace room; even the guard standing vigil outside the office was slowly but surely losing his ability to think coherently and speak complete sentences. But not Street. His thoughts, his ability to vocalize in English, remained unhindered. It would've made him feel special if he still cared about such things.
He watched the queen, crouching there in the darkness. What a magnificent creature she was. And so fertile! She'd laid nineteen eggs in total. And when they hatched--
Street tensed. So did the queen. Danger! The eggs were in danger! And so close to hatching, too! He watched the huge form rise up from its crouching position, an angry buzz of alarm coming from her. The unhatched young were signalling that someone or something was approaching their position. But who--
Street's eyes narrowed slightly behind his sunglasses, which he hadn't bothered removing even in the privacy of his office. That reporter. Ann Gora. Once, he'd found her attractive, and perhaps he still did, but the mission of the Ci-Kat-A took priority. Without needing to give a verbal command, he instructed the guard outside the door to go handle it, cursing himself for placing him here instead of at his usual post outside the entrance to the reactor room. He'd prioritized his and the queen's privacy over placing extra security at the reactor because for one thing, nobody but that specific guard and a few other key personnel were even allowed near the place, and the latter weren't due in until later that afternoon, which was when the queen had planned to make her move. Besides, the area was off-limits to visitors and the lead door was locked with an electronic keycode.
But it had a viewing window. And Ann Gora might've gotten suspicious after his brusque dismissal of her. If she decided to ignore the signs, and if she and her cameraman looked in through the window and saw the eggs... and if they got away and managed to warn everyone-- No! Street banished that thought from his mind. He gave both mental and verbal reassurances to the queen, confident that neither the nosy Ms. Gora nor her cameraman would be leaving MASA. Not alive anyway.
~*~
Ann and Jonny looked in through the door's viewing window. Inside was the high-tech nuclear reactor which powered the facility. It was unusual as far as reactors went, and didn't look anything like the one at the Megakat Nuclear Plant, being a series of large, silver spheres of different sizes connected to one another with tubes and wires suspended over a large, flat-topped bowl-shaped contraption coming out of a hole in the middle of the floor. But the unusual design of MASA's reactor wasn't what caught their eye. It was the nineteen or twenty or so objects lying around it.
"What the--?" gasped Jonny.
The things looked for all the world like fleshy pots that were open at the top, their orifices rimmed in a slimy off-green substance. What were they? Ann thought of insect cocoons. Now here was a story! "Get a shot of that!" she whispered, and Jonny obeyed, lifting his video camera to film through the opening.
"Hey!" a voice yelled from behind them. They turned. The mustached guard from earlier was hurrying up towards them, laser rifle at the ready. He did not look happy. "I warned you!" he said, his voice sounding like a snake's hiss. Stopping a few feet from where the pair stood, he raised the gun slightly.
Was he going to shoot them?! As impossible, as insane as it seemed, Ann's instincts were screaming at her that, yes, he was. And unless one of them did something, and fast, they were dead. Thinking quickly, Ann lunged forward, swinging her microphone down in an arc. It clacked noisily against the barrel of the rifle. The microphones Kat's Eye News used were pretty bulky and heavy and could be used as blunt objects if need be, and indeed hitting the gun with it succeeded in knocking it from the guard's hands. It landed on the floor with a clatter. The guard grunted in surprise, smacking Ann's microphone away, then went for the laser pistol holstered at his hip. Panicking, Ann shoved him back, but although he staggered backwards a few feet, he didn't fall, so she swiped at his face, slapping him, knocking the cheap purple sunglasses off...
...and recoiled in horror as his eyes were exposed. They were not kat eyes. They were the green compound eyes of an insect! Ann swallowed a scream rising in her throat. Behind her, Jonny gave a startled yelp. Ann Gora didn't know what she'd expected, but it hadn't been this!
With another snakelike - no, insectile - hiss, the guard lunged at the pair. Ann and Jonny dodged to either side and the guard collided headfirst with the heavy reinforced reactor door... and promptly knocked himself silly, his hat flying off. He staggered back, then collapsed to the floor. Ann stood there, panting, confused, angry and afraid. Then suddenly she remembered that the guard hadn't been the only one wearing shades indoors and acting weird. A mental image of a glowering Harley Street filled her mind. It was time to get the heck out of there! Something was very, very wrong at MASA.
Jonny seemed rooted to the spot. Grabbing the dropped microphone and making a point of kicking the laser rifle across the floor - it was lying by the guard's outstretched hand - Ann grabbed the sleeve of Jonny's sweater and ran, jerking him along with her. He finally managed to get his rear in gear, lugging his camera as he hurried after her. Their destination was the "T" junction ahead. 'Round the corner to the right and they were in the lobby and home free.
But their path was blocked by two figures, backlit by the harsh fluorescent lights of the hall. One of them was clearly Dr. Street, standing stiffly with his arms folded behind his back, still wearing his sunglasses, which made his eyes look like black, cavernous, empty sockets devoid of life and emotion... but he wasn't the one Ann was focusing on. That was his companion, an enormous... thing.
It stood at least a foot taller than the MASA scientist and looked like a huge purple cicada with long spindly arms and legs, blazing red compound eyes and ceaselessly twitching antennae. Black mandibles dribbling a yellowish, ichor-like fluid snapped once at the air, and then the thing started towards them, arms outstretched, clawed hands reaching for Ann and Jonny.
"Dr. Street!" Ann cried, as both an exclamation... and a plea.
But Street did nothing. Well, almost nothing. He reached up and took off his shades, revealing that his eyes, too, were green and insectoid. His expression remained impassive, bordering on bored contempt. There was no help there. Out of the corner of her eye, Ann could see down the adjacent hallway where two guards were standing with their backs to them. Should she yell for help? No. They might be like the other guard and Street.
Edging carefully around the approaching creature, Ann held her microphone up to her mouth and, incredibly, started speaking into it. "This is Ann Gora, Kat's Eye News," she said shakily, reporter instincts kicking in, "in deep trouble at Megakat Space Center!"
She wasn't sure whether she was just terrified and trying to cope by reporting on what could very well be her own impending death... or worse... being somehow made like Street and the others. A mindless, bug-eyed thing. Well, if that was what was going to happen to her and Jonny, then the least they could do was warn others.
~*~
In the garage, Chance and Jake were putting the finishing touches on the impatient Mr. Spinaldo's car. Jake, riveting the front passenger side tire on, heard a weird noise and turned, ears pricking up. The TV on the nearby worktable had been on the entire time he and Chance had been working, mostly just as background ground, but a bizarre chittering sound caught the thin mechanic's attention. He blinked as he watched a drooling purple bug monster approaching the camera, filling the screen.
What the heck? A minute ago it'd been Kat's Eye News. Something about the returning space satellite. Why were they suddenly showing a monster movie? Oh well, he wasn't complaining. After how much fun he'd had seeing Hard Shell, he didn't mind another movie about giant killer bugs.
Chance felt quite differently, of course. "Aw, Jake," he whined from under Spinaldo's car where he too was finishing up, "haven't we had enough bug movies for one week?"
Jake frowned. Despite his interest, something seemed off. "Gee, I've never seen this one," he said aloud, internally wondering why they'd interrupt an important Spotlight on Science report about a returning deep space probe to show a monster movie. Something wasn't right. Still... "A giant Ci-Kat-A," he said, blinking. Where had that come from? Well, it did look like a weird cross between a kat and a cicada. "Looks pretty cool!" he admitted. Very realistic effects.
Wait a second--
Right as he was processing that horrible possibility, the view on the screen whipped around to show a thoroughly terrified Ann Gora talking into her microphone. "This is Ann Gora, Kat's Eye News," she was saying, sounding so scared she was nearly hyperventilating, "in deep trouble at Megakat Space Center!"
Jake almost dropped the rivet gun. An equally surprised Chance crawled fully out from under the car. It wasn't a movie. It was a live news transmission! It was real! The "Ci-Kat-A," or whatever it was, was real! Ann Gora, her cameraman and who knew how many other people at MASA were in very real danger right that very second! Jake mentally kicked himself for thinking it'd been a movie. But he'd worry about being slow on the uptake later. Right now, it was SWAT Kat time.
He looked at Chance, on his hands and knees by the car. Their eyes locked. Deadly serious. "Let's hit it!" they yelled together. Mr. Spinaldo's car was going to have to wait.
~*~
As the Ci-Kat-A queen advanced on the nosy reporter and her cameraman, Dr. Street, slipping his sunglasses into the front pocket of his lab coat, turned and walked past the trio, towards the reactor room door. Time to let the little ones out to play. As he passed the prone body of the guard with the mustache, he nudged him with one foot. The guard rolled onto his side and groaned. Good, he was still alive.
Another nudge. He didn't get up. Evidently he'd hit his head way harder than he'd thought. Oh well. In a moment, there'd be more additions to the queen's army. Street went to the door, opening the shutter box for the controls on the left. It was a key card reader. He stooped and frisked the unconscious guard for the security access card he carried, then swiped it through the reader. Beep! The heavy door opened... and from it began pouring small versions of the much larger alien creature currently advancing upon Ann and her cameraman.
"Go," Street commanded, pointing. "Go help your mother. Spread the gift."
Hissing and buzzing, the drones - all males - swarmed forth, some hopping over the still dazed form of the mustached guard. Street watched them go with a strange of paternal pride. Earth would soon belong to the new master race... and everyone would be like him and the kat lying on the floor. Speaking of the guard, Street, looking down at him again, noticed that his eyes weren't the only things that were changing.
His hands, groping along the floor as he struggled to come to his senses, were no longer four-fingered but three-fingered, just like those of the alien drones. Thick, fly-like hairs sprouted from the backs of the knuckles, and the fingers terminated in thick, sharp claws. Frowning, Street looked at his own hands. One was normal. His left, though, was already starting to resemble those of the guard. He clenched and unclenched his fist, then slid that hand into his pocket. He knew that there'd be further changes and so he was neither surprised nor concerned. He knew he, the guard and anyone else bitten would eventually become exactly the same as the visitors but for color.
He returned his attention to the drones charging down the hallway. What a glorious sight!
~*~
Ann raced down the entrance corridor towards the lobby, Jonny right behind her. Though she couldn't see him, she knew he was dutifully filming over his shoulder. One word kept flashing through the desperate reporter's brain: help. She had to help! She had no idea what was going on at MASA, but it was bad. Very bad. And her journalistic instincts it was something big. Very big. And she was rarely wrong. Even jerks like Tab Mouser had to acknowledge that.
Ann suddenly found that her and Jonny's path was blocked by two guards, specifically the two from the lobby earlier. Including the kinda rude guy. Their backs were to her and her cameraman. Ann's breath hitched in her throat as the guards turned... and she relaxed a little as she saw that they were both perfectly normal. Including the kind of jerkish one, who looked annoyed. Both he and the other guard held mugs of coffee. The one guard seemed irritated, but the other one could tell something was wrong. The buzzing noises were a clear tipoff something was amiss, Ann guessed.
"You've got to help us!" Ann managed breathlessly.
Concerned, the first guard stepped forward and asked, "Why, what's wrong...?"
His partner, sensing the other guard's change in demeanor, also suddenly stopped being a jerk and with icy cold seriousness, sharing his companion's concern. At least he could be professional when the situation demanded it. "And what's that weird sound?" he asked, annoyed, meaning the ceaseless buzzing.
Before Ann had a chance to explain, both guards reacted to something behind her, eyes widening. Turning, Ann looked back the way she and Jonny came, gasping. Suddenly she was grateful she didn't have to explain what was happening as she watched two smaller versions of the big, purple red-eyed insect-kat creature Street had been with a minute ago. They came scurrying down the corridor towards the four.
Two coffee mugs hit the floor and shattered as the startled guards went for their holstered sidearms. But before they could draw them, the creatures were upon them, tackling them, wrapping their arms and legs around them, biting their throats as they bore both guards to the floor.
Ann's attempt to step forward and intervene as the creatures, these "Ci-Kat-A," detahced themselves from their victims, the guards writhing around on the floor, face down, was stopped as Jonny grabbed her arm. "Ann, cone on," the camerman cried, "let's get outta here!"
Initially, Ann protested. But then she noticed that the guards rose to their hands and knees. They turn, teeth bared, revealing their green compound eyes, like those of Street and the guard with the mustache. So that was how it was done. The creatures, Ci-Kat-A, whatever they were, transmitted they infectious mind control whats-it via bite. Ann filed that information under "very important" and reminded herself not to let a single one of those ugly purple things from biting her.
And speaking of which, more of them, scurrying along the wall like big purple cockroaches, hurried to get ahead of her and Jonny, cutting their escape through the lobby off. Ann didn't resist as Jonny jerked her along with him, running back the way they came. The big big, the one she'd seen with Dr. Street, walked around the corner, hissing and chittering. It swiped at the pair, who dodged under the long, thin arms. Heading to the left again, the two saw a sign that was marked "Launchpads."
Deciding that was good a place as any, the two headed that way. Behind them, Ann glimpsed the big Ci-Kat-A and two of the smaller ones, standing over the now bug-eyed guards. Both kats stood and drew their laser pistols, but not to attack the insects. Instead, like Street and the other guard, they were now under the creatures' control; they headed off after Ann and Jonny, but some insistent buzzing from the big bug, who Ann guessed was the leader, called them back.
Then Ann hurried around a corner and the whole group was out of her sight.
~*~
In the lobby, at a mental command from the queen as well much insistent buzzing and gesturing, the two bitten guards holstered their sidearms and prepared to fortify the facility's front entrance. Undoubtedly, the cameraman's camera had a live feed which meant anyone seeing the Kat's Eye News report was either already aware of what was happening at MASA or soon would be. Which meant an attack.
One guard went and locked the door, then he and his partner went to a tall metal cabinet. The first guard swiped a keycard through an electronic reader. Beep! Click! The door opened. Inside were several laser rifles with their power cells stored separately like ammo boxes. An emergency weapons locker.
Pocketing his keycard, the first guard removed one gun, tossing both it and its power cell to his partner, who caught it. He slammed the power cell in, charging the weapon. The first guard did the same thing. Accompanied by the two drones who bit them, they took up defensive positions on either side of the front desk. That seen to, the queen turned and walked back down the hallway.
~*~
Dr. Street headed for the corner leading to the junction hall, stopping as Ann Gora and her cameraman came running into view. Gasping, the two ran off down the corridor in the opposite direction, deeper into MASA. Street allowed himself a smug smirk. Kat’s Eye News’ star reporter and her cameraman weren’t going anywhere.
Indeed, the pair almost collided with two more guards. These two were surprised and startled and almost knocked down by the fleeing reporter and cameraman.
Ann managed to babble out something resembling a hasty explanation. “Giant bugs…!” she gasped, panting. “Dr. Street… gone crazy!”
She pointed with one trembling hand. The guards looked over. One of them did, anyway. He gave a surprised cry at the sight of Street’s eyes, and the semi-conscious mustached guard lying on his side behind him. He drew his gun. His companion seemed more hesitant, but nothing would deter this first guard from his course of action.
“Hey!” he yelled. “Hold it right there, Doc!”
When Street began walking leisurely towards the four and showed no sign of stopping, the first guard pointed his laser directly at him. His partner, though, noticed the open reactor door, pausing his gun half in, half out of its holster. “H-Hey,” he said, worried, “who opened the door to the reactor room?!
The other guard took his eyes off of Street just long enough to see what his friend meant. Crud. An open reactor room door. Not a good sign. He quickly returned his attention to what had once been MASA’s top astrophysicist. Those green compound eyes creeped him out. Yelling over his shoulder to Ann Gora, who he of course recognized from TV, he yelled, “Get out of here, you two! We’ll handle this!”
“Whatever… ‘this’ is…” said the second guard uncertainly, fully drawing and prepping his pistol to fire.
Needing no further encouragement, Ann and Jonny took off running, heading in the direction indicated by an arrow on another sign for the launchpads. Along the way, Ann stopped to hit a fire alarm, just in case these latest two guards weren’t enough to deter the invading whatever-they-were, and just in case half of Megakat City hadn’t seen Jonny’s live feed of the entire thing. Anything to get the Enforcers or even the department of more security guards on the scene as quickly as possible.
A blaring klaxon began sounding throughout the facility.
~*~
The guards kept their full attention on Street. If he was concerned by two laser guns pointed at him, it wasn’t showing, which was somehow even creepier than those eyes of his. The first guard, the more confident of the two, addressed him, needing to yell to be heard over the sound of the fire alarm, which, he noticed, was the only thing that seemed to be bothering Street; occasionally, he’d wince and twitch.
“I’m afraid you’re gonna have to come with us, Doctor!”
The two advanced on Street. Suddenly, there was an angry buzzing sound from… where? Up above! Stopping, the pair looked up, and gasped at the sight of the purple kat-bug things. Like Street, they had compound eyes like those of a fly, but theirs were red instead of green. The guards screamed as the two “Ci-Kat-A” dropped down towards them. They were promptly bitten and collapsed to the floor.
Ignoring them and annoyed by the clanging bells of the fire alarm, Street went and ripped the switch off the wall, but the noise persisted. He covered his ears. “Grraaahhhhh!!!” he snarled. “Curse this infernal ringing!”
The now bug-eyed guards rose. “The alarm can be stopped from the control room,” explained the first one, his voice monotone. “Come.”
Nodding, Street followed the two guards down the hall. The queen accompanied them, appearing around the corner. The two drones who bit the guards scurried after the group.
~*~
Pursued by some of the aliens - that’s what they had to be - Ann and Jonny ran into a vast room with what appeared to be missile silos. MASA’s launch bays, Ann realized. Each one had a rocket with a space capsule accessible by a railed walkway. High above, the daytime sky and its elusive promise of freedom and safety, just out of reach, loomed. A glowing neon sign hanging from the entranceway ceiling proclaimed that this was “Launchpad #3.” Although there were many doors leading out of this area, it was Ann’s idea to hide for a bit and then try for one of the ladders she glimpsed leading up and out of the silo-like launch bay area, and, wordlessly gesturing to Jonny, she pointed to one of the rockets.
Jonny hesitated, but then nodded, and the two scurried across the walkway and ducked in through an open hatch. Just as they did so, two of the aliens entered, but evidently they did see the reporter and her cameraman go into the capsule, since they scurried past, buzzing angrily. Ann signed in relief as she and Jonny peeked out, watching the small group go. Good thing the “pure-blooded” aliens weren’t smart. They seemed, at least to Ann, to lack the reasoning capabilities of the kats they bit and converted. All save the big one, which, if those things in the reactor room were indeed eggs, then the big monster was a mama and Megakat City was finding itself threatened by an invasion by what amounted to an alien hive whose individual members, from queen to drone, could turn anyone they bit to their side with one simple bite. A horrifying thought. Suddenly, Ann was wishing she hadn’t tried so hard to let her take this story. For once, she wished some other reporter had taken the assignment…
~*~
Unaware of what was going on in the main building apart from a blinking light on the control console in the guard hut and the sound of distant, jangling alarms indicating an emergency - a fire alarm? - the guard at the front gate glanced up at the sound of approaching helicopter rotors. Four Enforcer choppers appeared in single file formation over the trees that lined the road leading the front gate. The guard, who, though he didn’t realize it, was one of only three members of MASA’s personnel who was still normal, took out his walkie-talkie and tried to raise his fellow security personnel in the main lobby. To say he was confused and worried when he received no answer would be an understatement. Lowering the walkie-talkie, he watched the choppers circle around the sprawling facility.
In the lead chopper, Commander Feral, wearing his distinctive Commander’s issue flight helmet, frowned as he looked out his window down at the facility. He was backed up by three of his best pilots and ready for anything. Including giant bugs, he thought, as he shifted his gaze to the road below and two Enforcer cruisers approached, stopping at the gate and honking their horns. That would be Wells and his men, Feral new; members of a newly created “hazmat squad” specializing in dealing with monsters like whatever had invaded and taken control of MASA. Whatever they were, given what little he’d seen and been told, the creatures were infectious or contagious to some degree. And he didn’t want to take chances. He just hoped the outfits Wells and his men were wearing were as tough and would hold up as well as the Enforcer lab boys promised they would.
The gate guard looked uncertain, but after a discussion with Wells, riding in the lead cruiser’s front passenger seat, he lifted the barricade, allowing the two squad cars through. Satisfied, Feral addressed his three wingmen on his radio. “All right, men, be ready for anything!” Switching frequencies, he addressed Wells directly. “Wells!”
Below, the two cruisers slid to a halt and a group of specially trained Enforcer commandos in head to toe hazmat suits got out. Each one was wearing a tank on his back. A gun-like nozzle was in each kat's hands, connected to the tanks on their backs by a hose. The leader answered Commander Feral's voice on the headset mic inside his visored hood.
“Yes sir!”
“Be ready for anything! And remember! No one is to enter MASA property without my express permission!” Feral’s eyes narrowed slightly at the thought of two certain vigilantes whose appearance on the scene was all but guaranteed. “Especially you-know-who!”
“Understood, sir!” said Wells, then, gesturing to his men, said, “Come on!” and the team rushed forward.
~*~
The control room was the central tower at the center of MASA’s sprawling property. One could see the entire layout of the Space Center through the windows. Banks of monitors and screens were everywhere, along with work stations, though there was no one there so early except the two hard-hatted, visored technicians who’d loaded the Kat Sat 1 onto the retrieval truck the previous night. Like the guard at the gate, they were unaware anything was wrong beyond the most immediate problem; that someone had pulled the fire alarm, apparently without there actually being a fire.
The first technician was frantic. “Come on, can't you get that blasted thing turned off?!”
“Don’t look at me!” said the second technician. He made a show of patting himself down. “I don’t have the key!”
Said key was the only thing that could open the plate glass door covering the controls for the alarm, helpfully labeled “Master Fire Alarm.” The second technician was just remembering most of the guards carried a key for it and was stepping towards the main entrance of the control room when he jerked back at the sight of Dr. Harley Street, with green, insect-like compound eyes, one hand stuffed into his lab coat pocket, entered. He mostly ignored him and the other technician, who likewise turned and stared. Street was followed by three creatures. They were purple, with red eyes, and appeared to be part kat, part insect. The big one especially seemed particularly threatening.
The two technicians exchanged glances, and then moved towards, and finally ran through, a side door. They saw nothing more of Street and his new “friends.”
“Did you see that thing…?!” cried the first technician.
“Shut up and run!” said his friend as the two hurried down a side hallway to escape.
Street and his allies ignored the escaping technicians. They were of no consequence. Only shutting that blasted alarm off mattered. Finding the controls, Street tried and failed to pry open the locked glass cover over them, failed, and banged his fist against it. He growled, the sound a buzzing gargle of irritation. The glass cracked but wouldn’t budge. He growled again. Sensing his frustration through the hive mind, one of the guards, who’d remained in the outside hallway to watch the door, ran in.
“I have the key,” he assured Street and the queen. He patted himself down and growled, beginning to share Street’s intense annoyance. “Somewhere!”
Annoyed by his slowness, the queen shoved him and Street aside and punched her huge fist into the control panel. It sank in to the elbow almost. The alarm stopped instantly. Extracting her arm, she looked contemptuously at the fistful of crumpled up metal and wire, then flung it aside. Street nodded in satisfaction. Much better.
The guard found and then threw the now useless key aside, then saw something on the many viewscreens. “Look!”
The verbal communication was not necessary, and in time he and the others would lose their ability to speak intelligible English, Street, knew, but until then, old habits died hard, and so all bitten and converted kats would continue to both think thoughts their fellow “Ci-Kat-A” could “hear” (“sense” might be a better way of describing it) but also speak those thoughts aloud purely out of habit.
Street and the queen looked. On the bank of monitors, they see multiple angles of both the approaching Enforcer choppers as well as the hazmat squad. Street frowned. “Intruders!” The queen buzzed angrily, gesturing. Street did his best to reassure her. “Do not worry, my mother. We are safe from these meddling Enforcers.”
Suddenly, there was the roar of jet engines and a red and black fighter flew past the window, rattling the glass. The guard who’d come in to help Street reflexively ducked and the other one ran in at the sound. Only Street and the queen remained unaffected.
Street recognized the jet from TV. If it had a name, he neither knew nor cared. But he knew the names of the two enemies inside it. “And from the SWAT Kats!” he adding, appending his earlier statement. That seemed to satisfy the queen. For now.
Street went to a control panel. The two guards joined him. He began pressing buttons. “Activate the automated defense system!” he said aloud into a raised microphone. “Code: Alpha, Terra, Nova, Four, Five, Six!”
Let’s see the SWAT Kats and their Enforcer friends get past MASA’s state-of-the-art defenses, he thought proudly.
~*~
Downstairs, the guards in the lobby came running out the front door with rifles up. They took aim and fired up at the Enforcers. Laser fire pelted Feral’s chopper. He reeled, glancing down, and, seeing his attackers were in MASA security guard uniforms, hesitated whether to return fire or now. That was when “you-know-who” put in their customary appearance. Whoosh! The Turbokat swooped down.
“What thre–?!” he cried, momentarily startled by the blur of red-trimmed black. Then, realizing, sighed, grumbling, “Just what I need!”
Sitting in the Turbokat were T-Bone and Razor. The former looked down at the uniformed guards shooting up at Feral’s chopper, confused about why MASA’s guards would be shooting at their potential rescuers. “Jeez, what's up with the Space Center security guys?! Why are they shooting at the Enforcers? Not big Commander Feral fans? I mean, I don’t like the guy, either, but shooting him’s a bit extreme…”
Frowning, Razor used a zoom-in feature on his weapons panel’s targeting scope to get a closer look at the pair, focusing on one of the guards. He blinked at the sight of his insectoid compound eyes. Similar to those of the purple bug monsters seen on the live TV news footage, just green instead of red. He immediately guessed the answer. “They're not quite themselves, that's why! Look at their eyes!”
T-Bone consulted his own instruments. Through his scope, one of the bug-eyed guards raises his gun and fires, though completely uselessly. “Gah!” he cried, and quickly came to the same conclusion as Razor. He shuddered and was suddenly wracked with indecision. “What do we do? Do we--?”
Razor cutting him off sharply. “Non-lethals only!” Then, grimly, he added, “For now…”
T-Bone nodded, then grinned. “Gotcha! Let's give those bug-eyed boys a real ‘buzz!’”
The Turbokat swung around in a circle, then flew back towards the guards, who stopped firing and stared uncomprehendingly at the approaching jet. They both held onto their hats and ducked as T-Bone "buzzed" them, swooping down so low that the jet's undercarriage was mere inches from their heads. Even as they were rising, Razor flicks switches on his weapons panel.
“A few globs of cement ought to knock 'em flat on their butts!”
The cement machine-gun descended from under the jet, pivots and fired backwards. Glorp, glorp, glorp! Baseball-sized globs of cement pelted the ground in a straight line leading up to the two surprised guards. Splat! Both converted kats were struck in their chests and flew backwards off their feet, landing, indeed, in stunned sitting positions on their rear ends. One's hat was knocked off. They both manage to keep ahold of their guns, though.
This was witnessed by the approaching hazmat squad. The leader, Wells, signaled a halt. He motioned for his men to find cover. As yet, the guards hadn’t noticed them. However, suddenly, the building's automated defenses, twin-barreled cannons with smaller laser guns mounted underneath, came to life, rising up. Some of them pivoted to fire up at the Turbokat and four Enforcer choppers, who scattered to avoid being hit. Others aim down at the hazmat team.
“Retreat!” yelled Wells. He and his men ran for cover, scurrying back towards their parked cars.
At the gate, the guard there watched all of this in confusion and panic. He heard a rustling sound. Turning, he saw a medium-sized creature that appeared to be part kat, part insect… all nightmare. In a reflex action, he drew his sidearm and fired wildly, the lasers searing through and splattering the monster into goo. Then, with a yelp, still trying to quite process what was going on, he turned and raced over to join Wells’ squad in hiding behind the parked Enforcer cruisers.
Little did he realize that his act of killing the drone had an immediate effect on the invaders inside the Space Center.
~*~
As the drone who’d attacked the guard at the gate died, all the other Ci-Kat-A, including Street and the guards, flinched and wailed, holding their heads as they felt their brother’s death. One of the downsides of having a hive mind, thought Street as he tried to shake the grogginess from his head and focus, surprised he was managing to maintain so much of his autonomy while the guards retained next to none… and even more surprised by how little he cared. His one and only priority was getting the queen to safety, preferably somewhere with an ample store of radioactive materials. Which was to say somewhere that wasn’t MASA. The Joining had already depleted both the Space Center’s nuclear reactor as well as the stores of isotopes kept for experiments.
If the Joining, the Ci-Kat-A, whatever one wished to call them - Street’s continued ability to think for himself, at least someone, meant he had a preference, and he preferred “Ci-Kat-A,” considering “the Joining” a bit simplistic. Not to mention uninventive and melodramatic. But what could one expect from an alien race, who, despite their obvious superiority to felines, lacked anything that even the most generous anthropologist would call a culture, lacking even a proper name for themselves; even “the Joining” was little more than the bitten and converted kats’ rough approximation of the closest thing the queen and her brood referred to themselves as in their clicking, buzzing and, yes, even mental, language; they were that pure, that simple, that they for all intents and purposes had never thought of a name for themselves, relying on whatever their intended victims tended to call them. One even more melodramatic name, courtesy of a race the queen told Street about during one of their mental communications, was “the Black Sleep of a Thousand Voices,” evidently thought up by another alien race called the Aqueons… whoever and whatever they were.
All Street could say for certain was that the Aqueons were one of the few races to repel an invasion from the Ci-Kat-A… which meant he hated them sight unseen. As for where the Ci-Kat-A originated… even the queen didn’t know, although she had been able to tell Street about the last planet her race had visited… and the terrible fate visited upon it and anyone who chose not to become a Ci-Kat-A to survive… the same fate in store for every world visited by the Joining.
But in order to bring about this outcome, Street knew he had to get the queen away from MASA as quickly as possible. But first he still had a few things to take care of here, returning to mission control, the queen following along behind him. Like finding Ann Gora and getting rid of both her and the SWAT Kats, as well as the Enforcers, who weren’t entirely living up their reputation of being useless as Street had hoped. They were pinned down, certainly, but so far hadn’t taken a single casualty. Street smirked as he very much hoped to change that, giving a significant look to the queen.
~*~
Outside, the guards got up, brushing the drying cement globs off the fronts of their uniforms, taking a moment to fire after the fleeing Wells and his hazmat team, then dodging return fire from the attacking choppers. Mentally receiving a command from not only the queen herself but also Dr. Street, the two rushed inside, intending to hold off the attackers for as long as possible.
The Enforcers themselves were forced to dodge fire from the defense turrets. Despite this, Commander Feral, being his usual stubborn self, elected not to accept assistance from the SWAT Kats. “Back off, SWAT Kats,” he warned them, yelling into his radio. “The Enforcers are handling this!” He secretly hoped he sounded more convincing than he felt.
T-Bone, in the Turbokat, chuckled. “Really?” he teased. “Looks like those bug-eyed monsters have you pinned down!”
“Yeah, while the Kat's Eye News team and who knows how many other people are trapped inside,” Razor added. The thin SWAT Kat really hoped Feral was in a listenin’ mood.
Turning serious, T-Bone assured Feral, “Don’t worry, we’ll get them out!”
The Enforcer Commander was not to be deterred. He pounded one huge fist against the control panel in front of him in frustration. “I'll get them out!” he roared. “But I can't afford to blow up a billion dollars in scientific equipment doing it!”
He knew Manx would have a fit if he did, and so was determined to limit the destruction solely to the facility’s defenses. And he really, really hoped Hizzoner had enough sense not to call him up and try to micro-manage the situation. He still remembered when Manx essentially handed an easy, and highly destructive, victory to the SWAT Kats a few months ago by forbidding him from directly attacking the Megakat Tower. The fact it was already damaged and would require extensive repairs, in which case Mr. Young would’ve definitely said no, seemed lost on the Mayor just as much then as now.
For the most part choosing to ignore the vigilantes for the time being, he switched frequencies, addressing his three men in the other choppers. “Concentrate on the defense towers! We have to clear the way for the hazmat squad!”
So much for Feral being willing to listen. But, seizing on the fact he hadn’t explicitly told them they couldn’t do all the destructive for him - and knowing Feral’s reluctance in that regard was due to the short-sighted Mayor Manx - Razor, without giving the Commander a chance to get a word in, hurriedly said into the radio, “Then we'll do the smashing and breaking for ya!”
When Feral didn’t respond, Razor, deciding silence equaled consent, grimly added, “And Feral! Listen! It appears as if some of the MASA personnel have been compromised!”
“So I noticed!” said Feral.
“Advise use of non-lethal force whenever possible!” There was again no response. Come on, Feral, Razor thought pleadingly, don’t let me down. I know you’re a short-tempered blowhard but I know there’s a good guy in there somewhere, someone who cares about the people of Megakat City just as much as T-Bone and I do. He hastily added, “They're not themselves! They don't know what they're doing!”
Feral scowled. But something in Razor's voice made him listen, and, on that day, at least, he decided not to let the Turbokat’s weapons officer down. “Understood!” he replied curtly, then once more addressed the hazmat team leader. “Wells, did you get that?”
Wells’ voice came over the radio, audible to his fellow Enforcers as well as the SWAT Kats. “Yes sir!” he said. “Non-lethals against the compromised Space Center personnel.”
Razor sighed in relief. Now at least the death toll could be kept to a minimum. Perhaps limited exclusively to the “Ci-Kat-A,” or whatever the heck they were. Up front, T-Bone didn’t share his friend’s optimism. Switching the radio off so Feral couldn’t overhead, the big SWAT Kat warned, “Non-lethals might not be possible against all of them... we don't even know if we can save any of these guys.”
Razor said nothing. Of course, T-Bone was right. They didn’t know if it was possible to turn the bitten people back to normal. Nevertheless, as long as that slim chance remained…
“Anyway,” while Feral keeps those automated defenses busy, we'll find our own way in!”
The Turbokat fliew around and landed outside the fence designating the perimeter of the MASA property. Both SWAT Kats hopped out, readying their Glovatrixes. They were both wearing their Delta Bak-Paks for this mission. They hurried to the fence and paused, studying the barrier. It was an ordinary chain link fence topped with barbed wire. T-Bone and Razor looked at one another, nod, then raised their Glovatrixes and fired! Mini-Turboblades sliced through the chain link metal, and the SWAT Kats thus gained entry onto the property.
Man, thought T-Bone, why was there nobody around whenever he and Razor did something cool like that? Then he glanced up and narrowed his eyes at the video camera tracking their movements, and suddenly wished he didn’t have an audience after all… and hoped there was nobody in a control room somewhere watching any pesky security screens. He considered shooting the camera, but decided against it; if one camera saw them, so did others that he hadn’t noticed. So much for the element of surprise. Now, he and Razor had to rely on brute-forcing things with these bugs.
Meanwhile, in his chopper, Feral’s attempt to figure out his next move when an Enforcer dispatcher cut in and delivered news even worse than an announcement of the SWAT Kats’ appearance. “Commander! Mayor Manx is urgently requesting that he be patched through!”
Feral made a face. So much for this not being a repeat incident of what happened with Manx micro-managing the Megakat Tower disaster. “Nnnghhh, fine!” he groaned into the radio. “Patch him through!”
After a moment, Hizzoner’s most unwelcome voice filtered through the radio headset built into Feral’s helmet. “This is Mayor Manx!” He sounded jolly, which annoyed Feral. “How’s the bug problem, Commander?”
Feral knew the answer the Mayor wanted. “Situation under control, air. My new hazmat squad is moving in as we speak. We'll have things wrapped up shortly.” He started to explain further, to try and make Manx understand the scope of what could be at stake if these creatures, whatever they were, got off the MASA property. “But–”
But nothing. Manx abruptly cut him off. He suddenly sounded serious. Dead serious. “Well, see that they're tightly wrapped,” he said.
“But sir–” Feral attempted to cut in.
Manx talked over him. “I've got important visitors comin' to the city!”
Great, thought Feral. Young and his two silent business partners who followed him everywhere. Which meant even as monster bugs took over possibly the most prestigious scientific research facility Megakat City would lay claim to outside of Puma-Dyne, “His Honor” only cared about his idiotic tower. And without saying anything more, he hung up. No further discussion. Just his usual orders to “do something” without offering any meaningful advice. Feral rolled his eyes. Sometimes, he really, really wasn’t sure who he hated more. Manx or the SWAT Kats. Manx, he decided. Mouthy and disrespectful though they were, and, for the life of him, apart from a general dislike of authority, they certainly hate his guts… but two things they weren’t were cowardly and stupid.
Yes, thought Feral, I do believe I dislike Manx more than the SWAT Kats.
~*~
After hanging up on Commander Feral, Manx, relaxing in his comfy office chair in City Hall, turned and looked out the window, where Megakat Tower could be seen in the distance. Remembering some of Feral’s rebelliousness during Dr. Viper’s takeover of the building, he frowned, his good mood threatening to disappear. Deciding the Enforcer Commander needed a reminder that he, Henry Moses Manx, was the one who really ran Megakat City, turned slightly in the creaky old office chair and eyed the worried-looking Callie Briggs standing nearby.
Rising, he lifted a finger and addressed Deputy Mayor Briggs. “Better take a run out there, Callie. I need to make sure Megakat Tower is ready for tomorrow's grand reopening!”
Callie sighed. “Yes, Mayor,” she replied, realizing he meant for her to go and keep an eye on Feral. She left the room. So much for her afternoon plans.
~*~
In mission control, Street, the queen and the two guards watched the SWAT Kats on one of the monitors. The queen quickly picked up on Street’s idea, which was obvious even without the mental connection the two shared. She buzzed excitedly.
“Yes!” said Street. “Why waste our own limited resources searching for that nosy reporter Ann Gora? They'll lead us to wherever she and her cameraman are hiding.”
A drone scurried in, buzzing excitedly.
“What is it…?” asked Street, though he already knew and could feel his anger building. More agitated buzzing from the drone furthered his anger. Just as he’d feared. He sighed. Now the queen was getting upset again. Street attempted to mediate, holding up both hands. “Calm yourselves. I'll have a look for myself. Come with me.”
Gesturing for her to come with him, he left the control room, again instructing the two guards to remain where they were.
~*~
Meanwhile, the SWAT Kats gained entry into the interior of the facility via a maintenance duct. “Hope you’re not claustrophobic…” Razor said to his friend who was crawling ahead of him, lighting the way using his helmet’s triangular headlamp. Razor also had his turned on, but all it illuminated was T-Bone’s rear end.
“Nah,” said T-Bone, “just bug-phobic.” He shuddered at the unpleasant childhood memories. “Uuughh, why'd they have to be bug aliens?” he whined.
Razor couldn’t resist teasing his friend, hoping to still coax from him the reason for his crippling fear of creepy crawlies. From what he could tell, it went well beyond most people’s general dislike of crawling, multi-legged things. “Just like that movie, huh, T-Bone?” He grinned.
T-Bone just grimaced and said nothing, not even bothering to correct him that so far, this was nothing like Hard Shell. For one thing, Hard Shell couldn’t take people over. For another, he was gigantic, whereas these “Ci-Kat-A,” as Jake had described them back at the garage, didn’t look to be any larger than an average-sized kat. Maybe even slightly smaller. Good, as far as T-Bone was concerned. That was big enough. Any bigger and he was almost positive he was gonna have a panic attack, which he disliked; he preferred to see himself as the stoic one who always kept it together… and here he was close to cracking just because of a few outsized bugs.
It wasn’t that they’d never faced giant bugs before. Dr. Viper had created a few back when he first appeared. But something about these was different. Most visceral and disturbing in a way he couldn’t describe. Something else he didn’t like. Although he didn’t know a lot of words, T-Bone was nevertheless the kind of guy who liked to see himself as speaking plainly, meaning what he said, saying what he meant, that sort of thing, and above all else always finding the right words for a given situation. So his inability to put why the Ci-Kat-A frightened him so much into words, even in his own private thoughts, was worrying him. He just hoped he didn’t choke up on Razor and get them or someone else hurt. Or worse.
Ahead, he opened a vent at the other end of the tunnel and he and Razor crawled out, finding themselves in a corridor with odd-looking corrugated walls. They deactivated their helmets’ headlamps and glanced around. Noticing a sign that said “Mission Control,” T-Bone indicated with a sideways jerk of his head that they ought to start that way. Along the way, he suddenly held up a fist as he saw a creepy-looking shadow sticking out from around a corner. He pointed to his eyes, then at the shadow, and Razor nodded, he and T-Bone readying their Glovatrixes. Upon leaping around the corner and aiming at the thing, T-Bone was both relieved and annoyed to discover it was just a harmless potted plant. Jeez, this whole thing was really getting to him if he was this frickin’ jumpy.
But the plant was the only thing there. Ahead were three individuals. Jumping back so suddenly he collided with Razor and the two leaped back around the corner, peering around the fronds of the plant, the two SWAT Kats observed a kay in a green security guard’s uniform and a mustache of somewhat bristling eccentricity speaking to another fellow, who was wearing a lab coat. Apart from their eyes, these two looked normal. T-Bone guessed the guy in the lab coat was Harley Street, which he confirmed with a glance back at Razor, who whispered, practically mouthing the scientist’s name without actually speaking it. “Dr. Street.”
T-Bone nodded. The other guy was clearly a security guard.
That left the third individual. A Ci-Kat-A. The biggest one yet. It stood a full two feet taller than the other two, at least. T-Bone gulped at the thing’s size. So much for the killer alien bugs not getting any bigger. He just hoped and prayed this was as big as they got. And yet somehow he knew that wasn’t gonna happen. Monsters usually got bigger…
Street and the guard’s conversation with the creature was odd. Although they gestured and spoke inaudibly, the thing responded only in pantomime - gesturing and such - and in clicks and buzzes. Which either the two comparatively normal kats could understand, or, Razor figured, there was some form or telepathy or hive mind. Scooting a little closer, he tried to listen in on what was being discussed… and without being seen. No easy task, but somehow he managed.
The three were standing in front of a partially open, very heavy-looking lead door surrounded by radiation symbols and various warnings. Frowning, Razor consulted the dosimeter built into the wrist of his Glovatrix as he heard the guard explaining, “It's depleted. All of it. Gone.” His voice was a creepy monotone.
The huge insect hissed in anger.
Dr. Street did his best to placate the creature. “I know there isn't enough food for you here - for us, my mother - but don't worry,” he said gently, still somewhat monotonous, but not as much as the guard. “I’ll take care of you,” he added tenderly.
So, thought Razor. The bugs were aliens who ate radioactive stuff and had a sort of hive mind, and they answered to what he assumed was a queen. Like in a bee hive or an ants’ nest; a bunch of subservient but still dangerous males all slaving away for a big, tough female. Interesting. For his part, all T-Bone took away from eavesdropping on the trio was that the big Ci-Kat-A was the ugliest one yet, and he shuddered.
~*~
Observing the SWAT Kats eavesdropping on a security monitor, the two guards Street left in the control room nodded to one another, rose, and left the room.
~*~
It was time to throw down. Having retreated back into the corridor they’d originally emerged into, the SWAT Kats readied their Glovatrixes for battle. Wincing, T-Bone lashed his tail to and for, agitated. “We’ll ‘take care’ of them!” he whispered, disgusted. He winced further. “Oooooh, that thing is ugly!”
Turning, Razor saw something behind him. “So are these two!”
T-Bone whirled. Two more guys in green guard uniforms and peaked officers’ caps were approaching them, arms outstretched, ready to pounce despite both being armed with holstered sidearms. Evidently they didn’t have enough sense to draw their weapons. Both of them had green compound eyes like Street and the other guard. Reflexively, both SWAT Kats turned and punched them; T-Bone decked the guy on the left, Razor got the guy on the right. Their hats flew off and they fell, dazed.
This didn’t go unheard by the three around the corner. Street moved to put himself between the queen and any danger, while the mustached guard, grabbing his dropped laser rifle, worked the power cell’s charging mechanism and hurried around the corner. Raising the rifle, he aimed down the sights.
T-Bone noticed him appear out of the corner of his eye. “Razor, look out!” he yelled.
The guard fired. Razor ducked as a blast went over his head, rolling into a kneeling position. He fired a net which smacked into the guard, slamming him against the wall and pinning him there harmlessly. He squirmed and fought, but the net held.
Dr. Street and the queen rushed past, Street pausing to take his hand out of his pocket. It was now turned into a three-fingered insect claw, like the trapped guard’s hands, although his right hand remained normal for the moment. Using the claws on his mutated left hand, he slashed the net, freeing the guard, who hopped down and hurried forwards, having kept ahold of his gun, as Street and the queen continued on, hurrying back to mission control.
The SWAT Kats rushed along the corridor, as the mustached guard was now joined by two more of his fellow mind-controlled security personnel, the ones from the lobby. Razor recognized them from the remaining bits of dried cement stuck to the front of their uniforms. How many people had the Ci-Kat-A gotten under their control? Razor didn’t know. Worse, he didn’t know how they did it. All three guards fired after the fleeing vigilantes with their guns as the SWAT Kats raced along the hallway, which, if Razor was reading the posted signs correctly, was headed in the general direction of the Space Center’s launchpads.
“Still wanna use non-lethals against these guys...?!” asked T-Bone.
“I'm not there yet!” If he had to, Razor would kill these guys. But only if he had to. “Just gimme a minute to think…” Suddenly, he glanced up. “Aha! Up!”
As the guards 'rounded the corner they found their prey gone! They skidded to a halt, glancing around in confusion. The mustached guard, in the lead, tensed up. Suddenly the SWAT Kats dropped down from above, having been clinging to the ceiling. They were suddenly amongst their opponents. The mustached guard fired at Razor and missed despite the close proximity, the guards’ laser rifles being pretty much useless in the close quarters of the corridor, and Razor kicked the weapon from his hands. He responded by drawing his sidearm, a much better weapon for use in the hallway, Razor noted with some concern.
T-Bone kicked one of the other guards in the face. Pow! He went down. The third guard stepped forward and swung with his rifle in an attempt to bludgeon him, but he caught the barrel. The guy was surprisingly strong and the two struggled over control of the weapon, T-Bone staring into those fly-like eyes with a mixture of terror and anger as the guard pushed him back against the wall, forcing him against it, trying to hold him there. Unlike his friend, T-Bone was ready to use lethal force five minutes ago, and was torn between trying to decide what to use from his Glovatrix’s arsenal and just reaching down and grabbing his opponent’s holstered sidearm. But the gun was maddeningly out the reach of his straining fingers. That left what was in his Glovatrix, provided he could get the guy off of him.
With a yell, he threw all his weight against his enemy. The guard staggered back a bit, enough for T-Bone to pivot, keeping ahold of the rifle the two were struggling over; the guard, refusing to relinquish the weapon, allowed himself to be spun around and slammed against the wall. Clonk! His head smacked the wall and his head knocked back, compound eyes staring sightlessly up at the ceiling as he slid down to the floor unconscious, finally releasing the rifle. T-Bone also let go and the gun which clattered to the floor at the foot of the first knocked out guard. Then, just for good measure, T-Bone gave the guard he’d been fighting a good left hook and the guy fell sideways, hat sliding off of his head. T-Bone stood over him, panting.
Two down…
He whirled to assist Razor. No need. Razor kicked the mustached guard’s laser pistol away before he had a chance to fire, then grabbed his throat and kneed him in the stomach. The guy doubled over and then Razor karate chopped him across the head, sending his hat flying. Thud! He hit the floor alongside his three equally unconscious friends.
Although completely silent and near motionless, all three guards were visibly breathing. Razor checked each one in turn regardless. “They’ll be okay.”
“Yeah,” said T-Bone, “but I sure hope they stay out for a long time. At least until we find–”
“SWAT Kats!” Recognizing the voice, the two glanced over. Through an open door, they could see into the launch bay. Ann Gora was visible sticking out of a shuttle pod on the nosecone of a rocket, waving.
“Well, that was easy..” said Razor.
“Don’t jinx it…” grumbled T-Bone.
They hurried forward. Ann and Jonny lingered in the door of the pod on the rocket's nosecone, afraid to come out. The SWAT Kats, entering the launch bay, looked around briefly, then T-Bone gestures to the two. “Come on, we're gettin' you outta here!”
Razor fights with the second drone. He too was tackled to the floor, landing hard on the walkway linking the main launchpad area with the nosecone door. He punched the thing in the face, but the guy stubbornly shrugged the hit off like it was nothing. He stuck his Glovatrix in the creature's face. The drone stared at it, momentarily puzzled.
“Chew on this!”
He fired a grappling cable. It smacked into the Ci-Kat-A's face. The drone flew backwards. He collided with a sign reading "Launchpad 3" and sticks to it as electricity courses through him, frying him like a bug in a bug zapper. Razor shuddered.
~*~
In mission control, Dr. Street and the queen flinched in agony as they felt the drone's death.
~*~
The dead drone hung stuck to the now blacked out sign, arms and legs limply dangling, smoke rising from his fried corpse. Razor got up, steadying himself by grabbing the handrail of the walkway. He turned and stood in the threshold of the doorway to the capsule, watching T-Bone struggling with the first drone. Between what he was witnessing and how eager the second one had tried to bite him, he was beginning to figure out how these things took control of people. Hearing a growl and more buzzing, he turned and noticed the third alien hurrying towards him with violent intent, eyes glowing crimson with rage.
In the rocket’s control room, Ann, thinking quickly, grabbed the only thing to hand, Jonny’s camera. “Annie!” he cried, pleading. “Not my camera!”
Ignoring him, Ann stepped forward and swung, smacking the Ci-Kat-A off of T-Bone. The casing and lens of the camera broke on impact and the alien went rolling away across the floor and landed flailing on his back. At the door, Razor, hoping to get everyone to safety before the third Ci-Kat-A reached them, yelled over, “Come on! Let's get outta here!”
He heard buzzing and turned. The third drone was now no longer running but had leaped into the air and was sailing towards him on buzzing wings. He ducked into the space capsule, slamming the door. The drone collided with it, was knocked senseless, and promptly pitched over the railing and fell down the rocket’s long body into the depths of the launch silo below.
Inside, the SWAT Kats, Ann and Jonny were now trapped in the space capsule control room with the single buzzing Ci-Kat-A who remained. He flew up into the air.
“Crud, Razor!” yelped T-Bone “You didn't tell me these things could fly!”
“How was I supposed to know?! Besides, monster bugs usually do! Duck!”
They hit the floor as the Ci-Kat-A dived at them.
~*~
Having recovered, Dr. Street and the queen watched the action in the capsule interior on one of the monitors. Street grinned. “An excellent opportunity to get rid of those meddling SWAT Kats as well as that nosy reporter!”
Turning solemn, he added, “If you... don't mind losing one of your offspring.”
The queen seemed unsure.
Seeking to reassure her and launch the rocket now while he had the chance, Street hurriedly said, “I know you like the thin air of the upper atmosphere. And that you can survive in the vacuum of space. He'll stand a better chance of surviving than those four meddlers.”
Consenting, the queen buzzed and gestured. Nodding, Street entered a code, turned a key (the master one all senior researchers carried), and then flipped a clear plastic cover off a button marked "Launch." He pressed it. “Goodbye, SWAT Kats!” he sneered. Then, a little sadly, which surprised him, he added, quietly, “And goodbye to you, too, Ms. Gora. A shame we never got to do our little interview.”
~*~
In the rocket capsule, everyone was thrown around violently as the rocket shook. At the bottom of the silo, the third drone had landed under the rocket’s engines, ignited in a burst of flame as he sat up, trying to recover his wits. He was obliterated by the firing first stage boosters and died without even really knowing quite what hit him.
The rocket fired up out of the silo and shot into the air. The SWAT Kats, Ann and Jonny and the drone picked themselves up. Jonny looks forlornly at his dented and damaged camera, letting it fall from his hands with a noisy clatter. Ann did her best to console him. The drone was momentarily too dazed to even think about attacking, although Ann and Jonny nevertheless made it a point to keep clear of him.
T-Bone and Razor went to the window, watching the Space Center below growing smaller and smaller as the rocket shot higher and higher into the air. “We've been launched, buddy!” cried Razor incredulously.
“Looks like the SWAT Kats are about to go into outer space...!” was all T-Bone could think of to say in response.
They had to act quickly, and Razor knew it. “We've gotta get outta here before those second stage boosters hit or we'll be in orbit.”
He didn’t relish the idea of being in outer space with no formal or even amateur astronaut training, in a vehicle he and T-Bone knew nothing about how to man, with two scared bystanders and a hostile enemy.
Speaking of which, he heard a buzz. The Ci-Kat-A had recovered and scrambled over, mandibles chomping. Mentally calculating how long it would take for the boosters to fire based on what little he knew about astrophysics - which was limited to what he saw on Spotlight on Science and the occasional documentary - the thin SWAT Kat ducked as the creature leaped at him. He grabbed his opponent’s shoulders and flung him, using the big bug’s own momentum to send him flying across the capsule interior to smash face-first into an instrument on the wall. His sharp mandibles became wedged and stuck fast. No matter how hard he strained, pulled and struggled, he couldn't free himself.
The SWAT Kats went and opened the door - no easy task given how fast the rocket was going. They strained and grunted, pushing against the wind. Finally, the door wasn’t so much opened as torn free of its hinges. It went spinning off into the clouds.
That seen to, the SWAT Kats turn to Ann and Jonny. “You two!” yelled T-Bone. “Hold onto us!”
Ann gasped.
Jonny looked like he'd rather do anything but what T-Bone was suggesting. “We’re jumpin’ out…?”
T-Bone grabbed him, holding on to one arm, flinging his other arm around Jonny’s waist. Razor did the same with Ann. “Unless you wanna be the first news cameraman in outer space...!”
Without giving either of them a chance to protest further, they leaped out of the rocket, which went speeding off into the upper atmosphere without them with a roar as the second stage boosters ignited. Jonny screamed, his hat and sunglasses flying off. As the four went into freefall, the SWAT Kats deployed their Delta Bak-Pak hang gliders. “Delta Bak-Paks…. deployed!” said T-Bone.
Down below, the battle raged on. The Enforcers were still engaging the Space Center's automated defense turrets, which alternated between firing lasers and rockets at them. The Enforcers quickly developed a tactic wherein they used their choppers to bait the turrets by flying low and then banking hard either to the left or the right when they fired their rockets. As the missiles flew past them, the choppers returned fire with their side-mounted chain guns, obliterating the turrets, paying particular attention to the ones keeping the hazmat team pinned down by their cruisers.
It wasn’t long before enough of the guns have been destroyed that MASA is effectively defenseless - or so it seems. Flying the lead chopper, Commander Feral was quick to declare victory. “We’ve got ‘em now!” he said. Then, into his radio, addressing Wells, he ordered, “Move in!”
Down below, Wells gave a thumbs up. Toting their unusual-looking weapons, the strangely-attired group scurried forwards towards the main entrance. Here, they encountered the two technicians who'd earlier fled the control room. They skidded to a halt as they found the Enforcers' weapons pointed at them. They were both still wearing their visor-like sunglasses.
“Take off your sunglasses!” ordered Wells. The confused technicians hesitated. “Now!”
The two techs removed their mirrored shades. Their eyes were normal. The Enforcers relaxed a little. “Okay, you're cleared! Get out of here!”
Nodding, the pair scurried past the group and over to where the gate guard is waiting for them by the parked cruisers. Wells got back on his radio a moment. “Commander, this is Wells! Just encountered two MASA employees. They're cleared. Eyes normal. Proceeding into the facility. Over.”
Feral nodded as he saw the technicians running to safety. “Good work! Proceed with caution! Those bite-proof suits haven't been properly tested yet. Over.”
“Roger. Over and out.” Gesturing, Wells and his men entered the lobby.
Back up in his chopper, Feral issued orders to the rest of his men flying in the other helicopters. “Feral to all units! Attention! The hazmat team has entered the Space Center! It's up to us to keep an eye out for any further trouble. Heinlein! You and Asimov stick with me!”
Heinlein flew the chopper on Feral’s right. His visor was up, his eyes visible. His chopper’s side door was open. “Affirmative, Commander!”
Asimov was in the chopper on Feral’s right. He also had his visor up and his side door open. “You got it, sir!” he replied.
Addressing the third pilot, Feral said, “Campbell! You fly around to the rear of the facility! Take out those remaining guns!” He grumbled. “And see if you can spot where those annoying SWAT Kats went!”
In the fourth and final chopper, Campbell, who had his visor down, obscuring his eyes, sighed with annoyance, but did as he's told. “Roger that, Commander! Consider those last few guns toast and those SWAT Kats found!”
The fourth chopper banked away from the group and headed around to the rear of the property.
~*~
In mission control, Street watched the Enforcers enter the lobby two by twos, armed with their unusual-looking guns, on a monitor. He turned to the queen. “It's no longer safe for you here,” he said. “While your remaining children create a distraction, I'll get you out of here... and somewhere where you can feed, and grow even bigger and stronger than you already are! Come!”
He rushed out. The queen followed. Street led the way to the Space Center’s motor pool. He’d sensed the other drone’s death when he’d been fried by the rocket’s boosters on liftoff, but tried not to think about that. He needed to get the queen away from there as quickly as possible and somewhere where there was a plentiful food supply for the Joining. He had just the destination in mind, already mentally calculating the distance from MASA to the Megakat Nuclear Plant closer to the city.
And the more he told the queen about this location… the more she seemed to like it, climbing into the armored van without complaint.
~*~
Entering the restricted area corridor, the Enforcer group found the five knocked out guards. “Jeez,” said Wells, “look at their eyes…!” Glumly, he added, “I sure hope these suits hold up.”
He’d get his chance to find out. Bzzz! Two Ci-Kat-A drones came around the corner. One was flying, the other scurrying along the wall. They leaped at the Enforcers. However, much to Wells’ relief, their mandibles failed to penetrate the tough outer fabric of the group’s suits. Yelling, Wells took aim with his gun. “Hose ‘em!”
He squeezed the trigger on his nozzle-like gun. A gunky substance gushed forward and splattered over the first Ci-Kat-A, gluing it in place. His men give the second bug the same treatment. Just as they're cheering, however, two more drones appeared. These feigned diving at the group, who ducked, then swooped past them and around the corner, towards the lobby... and outside!
“Commander!” Wells yelled into his hood’s built-in microphone “We've neutralized two of the enemy, but two more are on their way out to you! Be advised! Over!”
~*~
The drones burst through the front doors of the Space Center and out into daylight. They took to the air and flew up towards the circling choppers. One scurried in through the open door of Heinlein’s, the first one it came to, creeping up on the hapless pilot. Hearing Wells’ warning over his helmet’s headset, Heinlein glanced around in confusion. “Where? I don't see–” He was grabbed from behind and yelped as he was bitten in the neck. “Yaaaghhhhh!”
Feral, hearing his scream over the radio, glanced right. The other chopper wobbled in place and started to dip down wildly as though about to crash. Gasping, he turned and looked left, and saw another Ci-Kat-A fly up and land on the side of the chopper there. It crawled along the side and in through the open door. “Asimov!” he yelled into the radio. “Look out! It's in there with you!”
“Huh?” cried Asimov’s voice over the radio, followed by a sudden “Aaahhhh!” that made Feral wince.
In his chopper, Asimov tried to fend off the attacking insect and failed. All it took was one good chomp. Having bitten his victim, the Ci-Kat-A backed away and waited. Even as the helicopter tilted and pitched around wildly, Asimov screamed and moaned, holding the sides of his head as Feral, flying alongside him, watched through the window. Asimov squeezed his eyes shut. They opened briefly, and Feral saw his pupils had shrunken to pun pricks. The shuddered and gasped, then scrunched his eyes shut tightly once again… and when they open once more, they were no longer normal kat eyes but the green compound eyes of a converted Ci-Kat-A. His expression became stony, contemptuous.
Worried, Feral yelled into his helmet mic. “Asimov! Heinlein! Talk to me!”
What he got back in response was less than reassuring. “Time to die, Commander!” Heinlein said over the radio, adding a “Bzzz!”
Rage filled Feral and he watched in disbelief as both choppers pulled up from their slow descents towards the ground. He could see the converted pilots - functionally dead, personality-wise, he grimly suspected - in both of them through their windshields... with the drones who bit them sitting in the co-pilots' seats! Both aircraft swooped around and began shooting at their former commanding officer.
Feral took evasive action. He’d worry about whether his men could be cured later. Right now, surviving was his main priority. “Kat’s alive!” he yelled, activating his helmet mic again. “They've taken over my choppers! My chopper pilots!”
He hears the sound of scuttling, clawed feet on the outside of his chopper. Turning, he saw an insectoid face peering in through the open door. Making a split second decision, he unbuckled himself, flung himself into the rear cargo area of the chopper, leaving the craft momentarily unpiloted, and slammed the door shut. Then, before the chopper could fly completely out of control and crash, he jumps back into the pilot's seat, sighing with relief.
“Campbell!” he growled into the radio “Get your tail back over here! I need backup! Pronto!” After a moment, he added, “And shut your door!”
The response he got back was immediate, and lifted his spirits. “Yes sir!” Friendly and chipper, Campbell’s voice on the radio was reassuring. “I'm on my way! And sir! I found the SWAT Kats!”
Feral rolled his eyes. Oh well… he’d lost two pilots and the SWAT Kats were better than no help at all. He scowled, hating that the invaders had made it personal for him, so personal he was willing to accept help from his greatest rivals if it meant a shot or two at the monsters who took two of his men from him, possibly for good.
~*~
On the other side of the sprawling facility, Campbell sat in his chopper reporting to his superior over the radio as, down below, T-Bone and Razor were rolling their hang gliders back into their Delta Bak-Paks, a woozy-looking Ann and Jonny nearby. The final remaining normal Enforcer chopper - well, besides Feral’s - flew past the group overhead. Smiling, they waved up. Campbell waved back down, grinning.
“Have they gotten Ann Gora?” Feral wanted to know.
Before Campbell could reply, T-Bone said into his helmet mic, “Roger that, Feral! We got her and her cameraman outta there safely!”
Relieved that the civilians were okay but still annoyed and doing his best to control his temper, Feral replied, “Well, if it isn't too much trouble, perhaps you could... assist me! I'm under fire from my own men! Those blasted alien bugs have taken over their minds!”
“Ouch,” winced T-Bone. “That musta hurt. Askin’ us for help.”
“Just get over here!”
The chopper overhead turned and flew off. T-Bone turned and pointed at Ann and Jonny. “You two stay here!”
“But–” Ann tried to protest.
Razor was having none of it. “No buts! Find somewhere safe to hide and stay there!” The less people for the Ci-Kat-A to bite, the better.
The SWAT Kats rushed over, through the hole they made in the chain link fence earlier, and leaped into the Turbokat. As the canopy slid shut and T-Bone fired up the engines, he turned and looked glumly back at Razor. His voice was grim. “Buddy, I don't think we're gonna be able to save these guys,” he said, meaning the Enforcers who’d been taken over, trying to keep his tone even, knowing Razor was still a little sore about those two guys in Feral’s tank the week prior. “We're gonna have to–”
Sharply cutting him off, Razor said, “I know, I know! Just... get me in the air! Hurry! While Feral's mind is still his own!”
The Turbokat lifted up in VTOL mode and flew off after Campbell’s chopper. “What little mind he's got, anyway…”
~*~
The hazmat team tied up the five unconscious guards. The leader, Wells, got a call over his radio. It was from Campbell. “Repeat, the aliens have taken over two of our choppers and Commander Feral is under attack!”
“Come on, men!” Wells yelled. He nudged one of the guards with his foot. “These guys ain’t goin’ nowhere!”
The one with the mustache woke up. “Your world is ours! Bzz! Bzzz!” he declared.
Wells ignored him and he and his men ran out. Outside, they rushed for their parked cars as the gate guard and technicians looked on. Above, Feral’s chopper, pursued by the two who’d been taken over. The Turbokat and chopper piloted by Campbell, the remaining normal pilot, were in hot pursuit. Getting into their squad cars, the hazmat team drove off as well.
After a moment, a garage door opened, and a MASA van pulled out. Dr. Harley Street was behind the wheel. The Ci-Kat-A queen was in back. Street drove off the MASA lot, following the Enforcers at a safe distance.
Watching them go, Ann turned to Jonny. “Come on, Jonny! We can't miss this!”
The pair ran to their parked news van.
~*~
The road leading to the Space Center wound through the desert. Evading laser fire, Feral flew around and got behind the two compromised choppers, flying alongside his remaining wingman. Below, Wells and his men drove along in their two patrol cars. The Enforcer Commander got on the radio to the SWAT Kats. “Cancel that order for backup, SWAT Kats,” he said, wanting to feel smug and proud. Instead, his mouth was set in a grim line. “I've got all I need right here. My remaining pilot and I will tail these creeps and figure out what it is they're up to and where they're going.”
“Yeah, sure,” said T-Bone. “You're welcome, Feral.”
The Turbokat banked right and pulled away, with T-Bone intending to return to MASA, when Razor glanced down and saw a van speeding along. “Hey, who’s that…?” he asked.
T-Bone glanced down. He saw the MASA emblem on the vehicle and shrugged. “Dunno. Must be some Space Center personnel gettin' out while the gettin's good.”
“Hmm…” That did make sense to Razor, but something seemed off about the driver. Especially when, coming up behind the first Enforcer cruiser, the guy slammed into the rear bumper, forcing the car forward. It crashed into the one ahead and both squad cars spun out of control and ended up nose first in a ditch on either side of the road. The van, front bumper dented, drove on. Razor blinked. “Well, whoever they are, they’re in a big hurry!”
“Not to mention a really reckless driver!” said T-Bone. “Feral should give 'em a ticket! Hang tight! I'm gonna swing around so you can get a look at who - or what - is behind the wheel!”
The Turbokat swung 'round and flew past the van, intending to turn around.
Up ahead, Feral and his remaining chopper closed in on the two Ci-Kat-A ones.
“If they make a move, blast 'em!” Feral said flatly.
In his own chopper, Campbell nodded. “Yes sir!”
Suddenly, the closed door of the chopper was dented inwards, then was torn off its track. Campbell gasped and yelled in fright as a Ci-Kat-A drone crawled in and grabbed him. Chomp! Having heard his scream over the radio, Feral watched in horror as his final ally's helicopter dropped down, made as though to crash, but then pulled up suddenly. Feral could see Campbell through the window. Although he still had his visor down unlike Asimov and Heinlein and he couldn’t see his bug eyes, Feral could tell from the Enforcer’s rigid posture that he wasn’t himself any longer. His next words confirmed it.
“Commander…” said Campbell, “...surrender!”
“Give yourself up to the Joining!” agreed Heinlein.
Feral grit his teeth in annoyance and rage as he was now between three choppers whose pilots have been taken over by the aliens. “So much for my backup…” he grumbled. Then, responding to the compromised pilots’ taunts, he yelled into his radio, “You'll have to catch me first, you bug-eyed freaks! Come get me!”
He dove down low, flying under Asimov and Heinlein’s choppers. They zoomed off in pursuit, followed by Campbell’s, distinguishable from his fellows’ by the torn off door. They fired after him. This was noticed by the SWAT Kats as they swooped back around to get a look at whoever was driving the van.
“Crud!” cried T-Bone “They got another one!”
Razor nodded, grimly determined. “Looks like Feral needs our help again! For real this time!” When that got no argument from the bigger SWAT Kat, he added, “That van's gonna have to wait! Get me in range!”
T-Bone frowned. There was a hard edge to his buddy’s voice he didn’t like. “Are you sure, buddy…?” he trailed off.
“I am,” Razor replied coldly. “You yourself said–”
T-Bone cut him off. “I know what I said! But now that it comes to it... think of what you're gonna have to do, here!”
It’s Feral or them!” Razor snapped.
T-Bone and nodded. They had to think of Feral. Grouch or not, he kinda liked the big guy, but he still disliked what they, or rather Razor, was gonna have to do to save him. Sighing, T-Bone turned and flew at the choppers closing in on Feral. Razor took a deep breath… held it… and slowly let it out as he prepared to shoot down the compromised choppers.
“Slicer Missiles... deployed!”
The missiles shot forwards, unfurling into their big triple blades. They passed through the second and third choppers, which exploded apart into multiple pieces. It rained helicopter parts down onto the road. Razor squeezed his eyes shut.
Those two Enforcers were gone.
Dead.
Slain by his hand.
With barely controlled fury, he said, “I think Feral can take care of his remaining ‘friend.’ Let's get back to that van. I think I know who and what's inside it. And I'm gonna make 'em pay for what they just made me do!”
“Easy, buddy. I'm supposed to be the short-tempered one, remember...?” T-Bone’s voice was gentle, but he was also shaken by the enormity of what Razor, who cherished the nine lives of all kats, it seemed, had just done.
A shadow passed over him suddenly. He and Razor looked up and gasped. Two Ci-Kat-A drones were clinging to the canopy. Where the heck had they come from? Oh, right. They must’ve been two of the three who bit and took over Feral’s pilots earlier. Screeching piercingly, their voices rose in pitch until they cracked the glass, making the SWAT Kats wince. They clawed at the glass, leaving long grooves. T-Bone pushed the throttle forwards, trying to use the G-forces to dislodge the two insects.
Failing, he turned the steering stick to the side sharply, causing the Turbokat to tilt to the left; the Ci-Kat-A closest to the front, above him, toppled off. He fell backwards down towards the ground. He attempts to unfurl his wings and take flight, but fails; the momentum of his descent just blows his wings up around him. Commander Feral's chopper passed under him and he hit the spinning rotor blades dead center. Splat! Instant bug sushi.
Green guts go splattering everywhere, startling Feral. Green gunk ran in rivulets down the chopper's windshield. “Aaghhh!” cried Feral. “What the--?!”
“Sorry, Feral!” winced T-Bone. He glanced up and pointed at the remaining drone. Guess we’re gonna have to scrape this one off!”
Down below, the MASA van drove through a tunnel. Seeing this, T-Bone dove down. The Turbokat's wings retracted and it flew into the tunnel. Up ahead in the van, Street, behind the wheel, glanced in the side view mirror, frowning as he saw the SWAT Kats’ jet flying through the tunnel behind him.
“You should've stayed in orbit, SWAT Kats...!” he sneered disdainfully.
He stepped on the gas as T-Bone flew the jet upwards slightly so that the canopy brushed the ceiling of the tunnel, dislodging the final drone with a big, gooey splat, leaving a long streak of green smeared along the top of the tunnel, interspersed with twitching insect legs.
In the van, both Street and the queen winced as they felt the death of the next to last of the queen's children.
The van shot out of the tunnel at the other end, followed by the Turbokat. Street floored it, zooming down the winding desert road. The Turbokat flew higher up and then the bomb bay opened, dislodging the Cyclotron with Razor on it. He hit the pavement and zoomed off after the van.
Street saw him in the side view mirror and scowled, then flipped a switch on the dashboard. This particular van from MASA’s motor pool was not only armored but armed. On the rear of the vehicle, a panel slid down and a triple-barreled laser chain gun emerged, opening fire. Razor dodged left and right to avoid being hit.
Behind him, the Kat's Eye News van, Ann Gora behind the wheel and Jonny riding shotgun, filming with a spare camera, also emerged from the tunnel, catching up to the chase but maintaining a safe distance.
Up ahead, the green sedan of Callie Briggs was fast approaching. She looked bored and irritated at being sent on this "errand." Couldn’t Manx trust Feral and the SWAT Kats to deal with the problem at MASA without her needing to be there personally? Sometimes she thought Hizzoner was convinced a deputy mayor was nothing but a glorified personal secretary.
Digging into her purse, which was in the passenger seat, she took out her communicator. “SWAT Kats, come in!” she said into into it.
In the Turbokat, which was following Feral's chopper as he pursued Asimov, the final Ci-Kat-A-controlled Enforcer, T-Bone answered. “T-Bone here, Ms. Briggs! Kind of in the middle of somethin'!”
“It wouldn't happen to involve giant purple insects, would it...?” Callie asked.
At least everyone was on the same page, thought T-Bone, and replied, “Yeah.” Smirking, he continued, “I assume the Mayor sent you out to check up on things. Well, don't worry, Razor and I are on it. Sureshot's after the big bug, while I'm helpin' Commander Feral deal with another bug-eyed creep.” Grimly, he added, “These things are pretty dangerous. Their bite is contagious. Like... some kinda plague!” He shuddered. “A zombie bug plague!”
He let that sink in.
Back down on the road, Callie grimaced. “I'll keep that in mind! And speaking of which…” she trailed off momentarily as an armored MASA van zoomed around a corner, “...I think I'm about to run into the action here on the ground head-on! Hang on! I'll get back to you!”
She dropped the communicator. It bounced off her knee and landed in the passenger seat. Ahead, Street glared at her through the van's windshield but otherwise seemed unconcerned. He continues straight ahead without blinking, as though he intended to drive into - and through! - Callie's car. Callie gasped and swerved, the two vehicles passing so close together that their sides scraped. Callie glanced back, then turned around and saw Razor approaching on the Cyclotron.
Razor couldn't have been more surprised. “Ms. Briggs?!”
He zoomed around her and continued after the van. Behind him, Callie screeched to a halt, then did a U-turn and drove after the motorcycle, Ann and Jonny in the news van coming up behind her, nearly bumper to bumper.
Up ahead, the van passed a sign that says "Megakat City: 50 miles" and "Megakat Nuclear Plant: 2 miles." Street grinned. In the back, the Ci-Kat-A queen chittered excitedly. Razor targets the van's gun with one of the Cyclotron's side-mounted missile launchers! Whoosh! Blam! The missile hit and destroyed the laser chain gun, leaving a big, smoking hole in the rear of the vehicle.
Street struggled the last mile or so to control the wildly swerving van as he crested a hill. The Megakat Nuclear Plant sprawled out before him in the distance. Regaining control of the vehicle, he drove towards it, smoke billowing from the blown open rear portion of the vehicle. He didn’t bother with the gate. The two guards stationed at the front entrance watched in surprise as the MASA vehicle crashed through the barbed wire chain link fence and drove wildly through the parking lot.
~*~
Meanwhile, up in the air, Feral zeroed in on the final compromised chopper. Gritting his teeth in grim determination, he fired a missile at it. Asimov frowns and then zooms up until the helicopter is standing on its tail. The missile passed harmlessly under it. Asimov continues flying up, up, up, then turned his craft upside-down, doing a complete loop-the-loop and ending up behind Feral, who gasped. Asimov grins evilly, thumb hovering over the firing mechanism on his chopper's control yoke.
“Farewell, Commander! Bzz! Too bad you didn't get to become part of the Joining!”
Suddenly his craft shuddered. He gasped and let go of the control yoke, flinging his hands up in surprise. The Turbokat dove down towards the stricken chopper. It already had a huge, smoking hole in the side from where it was struck by a missile. T-Bone targeted the stricken aircraft with the Turbokat's auxiliary weapons panel, his mouth set in a grim line.
“Sorry about this, pal…” he said sadly.
He fired another missile. It hit the chopper dead center and it exploded, raining helicopter parts all over. T-Bone sighed in relief and sorrow at what he had to do. “You can thank me later, Feral,” he said into the radio, trying not to think too hard about what he’d just done.
Feral’s reply was angry. “Three of my best pilots! Dead! All because of those rotten bugs!” He sighed. “Oh well, at least it's over now…”
“Negative, Feral! There's one more bug to take care of! The big one!”
~*~
The guards, one skinny, the other burly, stood outside by the guard hut by the main gate, watching the intruder driving the MASA van. The vehicle trailed smoke and zoomed across the parking lot towards the main building. The guards’ hands went to their holstered laser pistols, and they both winced as the van was struck from behind by a missile fired by Razor in the pursuing Cyclotron, followed by a green sedan and the Kat’s Eye News van at a distance.
The guards drew their guns, looking confused.
The left back wheel of the MASA van having been taken out, it began swerving out of control, finally crashing into the side of the building, near the front entrance. The front end crumpled like a soda can and for a moment it just sat there, smoke continuing to issue forth from the rear. In addition, steam and smoke rises in tendrils from the battered hood.
However, as Razor zoomed up, the Ci-Kat-A queen leapt out of the hole in the back of the van. She issued forth a piercing screech. Razor winced, his hands letting go of the Cyclotron’s handlebars to grab at the sides of his head and cover his ears. In doing so, he lost control of the motorcycle. It fell onto its side and he fell off, rolling away as the vehicle went sliding, leaving a trail of sparks. It slid past the queen and collided violently with the back of the wrecked van.
The same shriek also cracks the windshields of the other two approaching vehicles. Callie screams and swerved to a stop. Ann and Jonny also cried out in pain and Ann slammed on the brakes, skidding to a halt to avoid hitting Callie's car. Everyone sat there in a daze as the guards from the front gate came hurrying over to see what was going on.
His head swimming, Razor lay on the ground in pain. A shadow fell over him. He looked up to see the queen leaning over him, mandibles chomping, ready to bite him. Suddenly, laser blasts flew past her. She paused and turned to see the two guards from the gate coming to Razor's rescue. They were still confused and had no idea what was going on but were determined to come to the SWAT Kat’s aid.
They repeatedly fired, hitting the Ci-Kat-A several times, but the blasts didn’t seem to be harming her. Annoyed, she issued forth another shriek. The guards dropped their guns and fell to their knees, writhing in pain as they covered their ears. That seen to, the queen turned back to Razor, bending down towards him menacingly.
As the huge Ci-Kat-A leaned over Razor, T-Boner swooped down in the Turbokat. “Razor!” he cried. “Noooooo!”
The alien queen was distracted from her task, glancing at the oncoming jet. T-Bone flipped some switches on the auxiliary weapons panel, targeting the queen through his targeting scope. He fired! “Spider Missile... deployed!” A Spider Missile shoots out, unfurling its bolas, which wrapped around and ensnared the queen.
She staggered back but didn't fall. After a brief struggle, she simply flexed her deceptively powerful sticklike arms, snapping the cable. Throwing the jet into VTOL mode, T-Bone landed, popping the canopy and leaping out, Glovatrix at the ready. He rushed over, driven by only one thought: that he had to get Razor away from the queen before she bit him. The idea of his best friend ending up as a mind-controlled alien bug zombie was simply too terrible to contemplate. T-Bone extended his arm, pointing his Glovatrix at the monster.
“Eat this, you–”
As he readied another missile, the queen opened her mouth... and a deluge of greenish-yellow sticky gunk came shooting out with the force of a firehose. The vomitous mess hit T-Bone dead center in the chest and sent him flying, knocking him flat on his back. “Aaaaghhhh!” he screamed. “Gross!”
The stuff covered him completely, ensnaring him in a sticky cocoon. He screamed muffledly. “Mmmphhh! Waaaghhhhh!!!”
The deluge stopped and the queen closed her mouth. Looking satisfied, she walked towards the trapped and squirming SWAT Kat, but suddenly she sensed a presence and heard a voice behind her.
“Nevermind him!”
She turned. Dr. Street had climbed free of the crashed van. He looked a little worse for wear and his transformation had progressed slightly further. His facewas a little more angular. The sleeves of his lab coat were ripped and torn. One was barely hanging on. Through the tears, it could be seen that his arms had withered to become thinner and more insect-like. Overall, his clothes were hanging off of his body much more loosely than before, as if they were several sizes too large.
“Bzz!” Street insisted. “You must get inside quickly! Bzzz!” He ran inside, the queen hurrying after him.
An atomic engineer in full radiation suit, Homer Peterson, was working at a control panel in the main control room for the power plant’s reactor when suddenly the door was battered down. Alarms go off. The Ci-Kat-A queen entered, followed by Dr. Street.
Peterson turned, startled. Trying to be brave, he held up a hand to the pair, attempting to bar their way. Just as he had with Dark Kat’s Creeplings earlier that year. “Stop!” he said nervously, trying to sound authoritative. “This is a secured area!”
And just like with the Creeplings, this did absolutely nothing.
The queen kept advancing. Peterson lowered his hand and backed up a bit in fear. The huge alien knocks him aside with one swipe of her hand. The radiation-suited kat went flying and crashed to the floor unconscious. Both the queen and Street ignored him from this point forward as the latter walked to the control panel where Peterson had been working working.
A window over the control panel looked into the room with the nuclear reactor. Street began pushing buttons excitedly. Behind him, the queen buzzes excitedly. “Yes, you can almost taste it, can't you...?”
Street flips more switches and partially drained the cylinder full of heavy water surrounding the nuclear fuel rods. More alarms began blaring. The queen casually knocked the reinforced door leading into the main reactor room down and entered. Street remains in the control room.
Recovering and sitting up, Peterson gasped. He got up and ran from the room. As before, Street completely ignored him.
The queen entered the room where the reactor is. It was of a more traditional design than the one at MASA, a tall cylinder made of thick leaded glass containing heavy water and several glowing fuel rods. With one swipe of her fist, she smashed the tough glass. The water splashed everywhere, drenching the alien, who reached hungrily for the glowing rods, which bathed her in a sickly yellow glow. She grabbed them bare-handed and power began coursing through her. Street, similarly unaffected by the radiation pouring off of the breached reactor core, entered the room, watching happily as the Ci-Kat-A queen began wrenching the fuel rods free from the reactor and eating them.
~*~
Razor groggily sat up outside, glancing around, startled by the alarms going off. More radiation-suited technicians and engineers began running out of the building in a panic. Noticing the slimed up T-Bone, Razor cried out and rushed over to his buddy. “T-Bone! Talk to me, buddy!”
“Get me outta this gunk...!” was the muffled response.
Razor grabbed at the slime, pulling huge handfuls of the taffy-like substance away to gradually reveal a thoroughly disgusted T-Bone, who sat up, gasping for air. Some of the goo dribbled from his mouth. He retched. “Aaghhhh! Get this crud offa me! It's disgusting!” Spitting and hacking, he whimpered, “Eewww, it's in my mouth...!”
“I'll say…” The gunk clung to Razor’s hands. He flung his wrists, sending long, thin strands of the stuff flying, but it still adhered to his hands like glue. He was forced to remove his gloves.
T-Bone, revolted, struggled to his feet, the cocoon slime dripping off of him, clinging in huge, oozing chunks to his flight suit. He whimpered more. “Uuughhh, this is the worst day of my life…”
“Well, it's about to get worse, because if that alarm means anything then Dr. Bug-Eyes and the big Ci-Kat-A have breached the reactor...!”
“Perfect!” grumbled T-Bone.
~*~
The queen continues eating, and a glowing aura surrounded her as she begins to grow. Ten feet. Twenty feet. Fifty feet! Her head collided with the ceiling, cracking it. She continued stuffing nuclear fuel rods into her mouth.
Street was exultant, ripping the sleeves of his lab coat off, exposing his sticklike insect arms. His voice became even more distorted as he spoke. “Yes! Eat, eat! There's enough energy here to make you invincible!”
~*~
The SWAT Kats turned as the roof of the building exploded outwards. The now fifty foot tall Ci-Kat-A queen flies up into view, clutching Dr. Street in her hand. Razor finished helping get the gunk off of T-Bone and the pair ran over to the Turbokat.
Meanwhile, in the air, Commander Feral's Enforcer chopper flew at the queen, firing lasers and missiles. They didn’t seem to do much to her. She shrieked. Feral flung his hands up, covering his ears as the windshield of the chopper shatters. He groaned. The chopper swoops down out of control and crashed in the power plant parking lot, tipping onto its side. The spinning rotor blades shattered upon hitting the cement.
Seeing his plight, Callie got out of her car and runs over along with Ann, Jonny and the guards. “Commander Feral! Are you okay?”
Feral opened the side door and climbs out. He was okay. “Yes, Ms. Briggs. Don't worry about me.” Hopping down, Feral grabbed one of the fleeing engineers, who turned out to be Homer Peterson. “We've got to get that reactor breach under control!”
Peterson nodded.
Meanwhile, the Turbokat rocketed into the air and flew off in pursuit of the alien queen. They were now headed out over the waters of Megakat Bay near the power plant. Razor targeted the queen with a Match-Head Missile. “Eat this! Match-Head Missile... deployed!”
The missile's tip ignited and it sailed straight and true. Street, hissing, turned and pointed, alerting the queen to the danger. The queen turned and vomited up another deluge of sticky yellow gunk, which splattered over the oncoming missile, dousing the flames. It sailed harmlessly past her. She then flew towards the Turbokat.
“Whoa!” yelped T-Bone. “Incoming!”
He and Razor reflexively ducked, the queen sailing over their heads. Behind them, she turned and puked her cocoon gunk, clogging the engines. They whined and died. The jet began to nosedive. Hissing triumphantly, the giant bug turned and flew off, still carrying Street, who was smirking smugly.
As the waters of Megakat Bay rushed up to meet them, T-Bone fought with the controls. “Aaghhh!” he cried. “The engines are clogged with crud!” Before Razor the backseat driver could give his inevitable suggestion that the two eject, T-Bone pleaded, “Come on, baby... just one more time for ol' T-Bone!”
He pushes the throttle forward. Razor shook his head. This was something like the second or third incident where his friend had begged the dang jet for “just one more chance.” He wondered how many lives the SWAT Kats would have left after this. If there was an “after this.” It all depended on whether the engines fired again or if they nosedived into the sea.
“Max thrusters!” yelled T-Bone, pushing the throttle forwards as hard and as far as it would go.
Razor breathed a sigh of relief as the engines roared to life, blowing most of the gunk out and allowing the Turbokat to remain in the air. T-Bone was able to pull it out of its dive seconds before it would’ve ended up in the water. Once they were level again, Razor joined his friend in glancing around… but there was no sign of the huge bug anywhere! “Where'd it go...?” he asked aloud, consulting his instruments. The queen was gone from radar and Razor said so. “I’ve lost her on radar…”
T-Bone seemed more relieved than anything that the bug was gone. “Must've escaped while we were busy trying not to end up at the bottom of Megakat Bay,” he suggested almost indifferently. His attitude was bothering Razor again. It was making him more determined than ever to get the bottom of his friend’s bug phobia.
“Well, take us back to the nuclear plant!” he said. “We gotta make sure the reactor breach doesn't cause a meltdown!”
~*~
Later, the Turbokat landed in the nuclear power plant parking lot. The canopy slid back and the SWAT Kats watched as Commander Feral, flanked by Callie, talked to a kat in a full lead-lined radiation suit. The alarms had been turned off. Ann Gora stood nearby, being filmed by Jonny, still missing his hat and sunglasses.
“Well?” Feral’s question was directed at the guy in the radiation suit. “What's the situation, Mr. Peterson?”
“We were lucky, Commander,” the engineer, Peterson, said, taking off his suit’s hood and sighing. “That thing ate all the radioactive material in the core. Despite being breached, the reactor is effectively harmless.”
Feral sighed. “Finally some good news.” Grimly, he said, “That leaves that big bug.” To the SWAT Kats, he asked, “You’re certain that one’s the only one left…?”
Razor considered the Commander’s question a moment. He counted on his fingers, as did T-Bone. “Yeah,” said T-Bone confidently. “That’s all of ‘em. Not counting the bitten guys back at MASA.” Razor couldn’t help but figure there was one they were forgetting. One who’d slipped away somehow.
But T-Bone’s answer was sufficient for Commander Feral. He climbed back into his crashed chopper and got on the radio. “This is Feral!” he said into the radio. A dispatcher responded and the Commander continued, “Attention all units! Be on the lookout for a giant flying insect! I want all chopper patrols loaded with industrial strength bug spray!”
Meanwhile, Callie talked to the SWAT Kats. “I guess there's nothing more for me to do here,” she said, a little sadly. “I need to get back to the city and help Mayor Manx prepare for the Megakat Tower's grand reopening.” She sighed and looked up at the sky. “Where do you thing that monster is headed...?”
“Who knows?” said T-Bone with a shrug. “But when it resurfaces, we'll kick its tail right back into outer space!” He smirked.”Seeya later, Ms. Briggs! Good luck with the Megakat Tower!”
Callie waved goodbye to them. The canopy slid shut and the jet lifted off and flew away.
~*~
Later that evening, the Turbokat returned to the salvage yard, the secret tunnel sliding open. “I can’t help but feel like there’s one we’re overlooking…”
“One what?” asked T-Bone, glancing over his shoulder with eyebrow raised. “One of those critters?” He chuckled as though he found the idea ridiculous. “Easy, there, Razor, we got ‘em all. Leaving just the queen.”
“And Street.”
“Right. Him too.” T-Bone sighed. Then he remembered the work he and Jake had left unfinished in the garage when they’d gone running off earlier. And the additional work that would come with properly cleaning the jet. “Man, not only do we have to finish working on Mr. Spinaldo's car, but we also have to clean that gunk outta the engines.” He grumbled. “And this time, you're touchin' that bug slime…”
The jet flew into the tunnel and the cover slammed shut behind it.
~*~
The Ci-Kat-A queen, still holding Dr. Street, fliew through the wispy clouds high above the city skyline. She buzzed excitedly. “Yes, yes,” Street said, “I know you like the thin air up here. It reminds you of home. Do not worry. Bzz, bzzz! We will find a new location for your new nest so you can rear your new brood…”
Ahead, the top portion of the Megakat Tower poked through the clouds in the distance. Street, seeing it, narrowed his eyes and grinned as insectoid mandibles began poking out of the corners of his mouth. His speech slurred and became distorted further. “...a high place. Yes. The Megakat Tower will do nicely. And do not worry about food. There are many more nuclear power plants in and around Megakat City. Bzzz! And then you and your children will bring the bliss of the Joining to my world!”
Buzzing happily, the queen flew towards the skyscraper in the distance.
~*~
The following morning, Ann Gora was talking to her gruff editor in his office. He had a copy of The Megakat Times spread out on his desk with the headline "Destructive Nature!"
“I can't believe the Times beat us to this thing,” the editor grumbled. He slammed a fist down on the black and white photo of the sagging, partially frozen skyscraper. Ann flinched. She was sitting in one of the two chairs reserved for visitors to the editor's office. Tab Mouser was in the other, his ever present smile frozen on his mug.
“I assigned you to get an exclusive about Mayor Manx's business deal with those Siamese investors... not Viper's latest wacko scheme to conquer the city. And those creeps at the Times still manages to beat us to print.” He pointed at Ann. “And I certainly didn’t send you to interview Harley Street for Spotlight on Science! That’s Tab’s job. You're going to have to get on the ball if you wanna go places around here, Annie. Despite your excellent coverage of Dr. Viper's takeover of the building. Which is the only reason I'm giving you another chance.”
Ann looked defensive. Beside her, Tab Mouser just grinned. He could’ve been a wax mannequin but the fact he occasionally blinked and showed other signs of life like shifting in his seat.
The editor kept his finger leveled at Ann. “And that means covering the reopening of the Megakat Tower.”
“Technically it never opened in the first place…” Ann said.
Frowning, the editor lowered his finger.
“My point is there isn't much of a story there.”
“I run this place, not you,” was the editor’s angry response. “I get to decide what is and isn’t newsworthy. Where’d you even get Tab’s file on the Kat Sat 1 stuff, anyway?” Tab turned and glared at Ann, as if it only just then occurred to him to wonder the same thing himself.
“His desk drawer.”
Tab leaped up, looking about as angry as he seemed capable. The editor made him sit back down. “So much for journalistic ethics…” he said under his breath. He sighed. “Okay, Gora, since you did such a good on this Ci-Kat-A thing, you get to keep your job… if you follow it up by getting an interview with this guy Manx is meeting. Young, I think. And Mouser will go back to handling anything related to Spotlight on Science. Understood?”
Ann nodded. She looked disappointed, but a glance at the smirking Tab made her agree. “You got it, Chief.”
She grabbed the file folder, then ran out. Tab, his smile looking pained, as though he was incapable of frowning, twisted around in his seat, watching her go. The editor just shook his head.
~*~
A few minutes later, the news van was pulling into the courtyard of the Megakat Tower and Ann was with Jonny, who’d since gotten another pair of sunglasses and even found his red baseball cap, which had landed somewhere near the fence at MASA. The former he kept perched on his forehead so Ann could see his eyes. He could tell she was spooked by the entire Ci-Kat-A incident, especially by what had happened to Street and the others, so he went out of his way to let his friend and co-worker know he was a normal kat and not under the evil aliens’ control.
A big banner that read “Grant Reopening!” was strung across the building’s entrance.
As he was setting up his camera and Ann was sitting in the passenger seat of the van (whose windshield was still shattered) going over the nose she’d hastily compiled about the tower - all generic PR fluff, nothing about any grotesque spore pods or mutated plant-animal things; her editor had been pretty clear that Mayor Manx didn’t want any of that in Kat’s Eye News story about the building and the editor was an old college buddy of Manx’s - Callie Briggs’ green car, its windshield also still currently shattered - she’d have to have Chance and Jake fix it - pulled up. Parking, she waved to the other two. Jonny smiled and waved back. Ann was too busy going over her notes.
Smiling and shaking her head, Callie shut her car door and walked inside. Carrying a briefcase with her initials “C.B.” monogrammed on a faux gold nameplate between the clasps - one of the few extravagances she allowed herself as Deputy Mayor, unlike the ostentatious Mayor - she walked towards the elevator, taking out her mobile phone and speaking to Hizzoner as she waited for the elevator, frowning. Had someone been to the top floor without informing her? The groundskeeper? Perhaps the new gardener? A work crew rushing to get the place ready in time for Mr. Young’s visit? It was odd, but not alarming.
She realized she’d zoned out a bit. Manx, on the phone, was asking about the carpeting, as he’d specifically promised Young and his business partners he’d “upgrade” it among the many desperate things he’d yelled after them after they’d walked away from the mess the tower had become courtesy of the SWAT Kats’ usual way of solving problems. Snapping her attention back to her job, Callie answered the Mayor’s question.
“Yes, Mr. Mayor, the new carpet looks good,” she said drolly. She doubted very much Young cared about things like the carpet and that the visiting businessman’s main concern would be “no monsters, please.” Nevertheless, Hizzoner wouldn’t let the matter drop. Sighing, Callie used one of the high heels of her shoes to trace an imaginary line in the expensive-looking green carpeting. “Very plush,” she added. And then, because Manx seemed to require constant reassurance, she added. “I'm sure Mr. Young will be pleased.”
Provided there were no monsters, Callie thought as the elevator arrived and she got aboard.
“Excellent!” said Manx over the phone, already on his way to pick Young up from the airport. “See you in an hour! And have that ten year lease ready!”
Callie rolled her eyes at Hizzoner’s optimist and rode the elevator up. “Yes, Mr. Mayor.”
Manx hung up. Riding the elevator up to the penthouse, Callie smiled as she opened her briefcase, sticking the phone inside. She snapped the briefcase shut as the elevator dinged and the doors opened onto the penthouse office on the 300th story of the building. Callie's smile disappeared as she stepped into the room, and into yet another living nightmare. Oh no. Fleshy, pot-like… things filled the room. They reminded Callie of… eggs. She didn’t know why. They didn’t look like any eggs she’d ever seen, but that was the only word that came to mind. Eggs. What else could they be…? And eggs from what?
In addition, the entire office was festooned with a dripping, brownish tan resin-like substance. The new nest or whatever it was intermingled with the ultra-modern office furniture. Muffled buzzing sounds came from the open-topped eggs; they were ready to hatch.
“Not again!” she cried. “This building must be cursed!” Cursed to never properly open to the public.
She was in the middle of wondering what she was going to tell the Mayor when she remembered that Ann Gora had mentioned she and her cameraman had seen fleshy things that looked like soggy pots in MASA’s nuclear reactor room. Suddenly, Callie was filled with the sudden urge to do two things; first, get out of the penthouse, and secondly, to call someone. Anyone. Ann, the SWAT Kats, the Enforcers, anyone she could flag down on the street. But as she backed towards the elevator when a long, thin arm with a clawed, three-fingered hand reached in and grabbed her shoulder, spinning her around to reveal Dr. Harley Street.
He was further along in his transformation, and no longer resembled a normal kat, looking quite different from when Callie had glimpsed him briefly at the nuclear power plant the other day. He no longer even remotely resembled a normal kat; he was for all intents and purposes completely turned into a Ci-Kat-A drone at this point, although he’d retained his normal brown fur color and green eyes instead of red ones and turning purple.
His mouth consisted of sharp, black mandibles and twitching antennae sprouted from his forehead. His clothes hung off of his emaciated body even more than before. He looked like a little kid who'd put on his dad's clothes. Callie suppressed a scream at the sight of him.
Street seemed surprised to see her... but delighted nonetheless. “Deputy Mayor Briggzzz!” he exclaimed, his voice heavily distorted. “What a delightful surprise!”
Callie wished she could say the same. Harley Street was a brilliant astrophysicist, one of MASA’s finest. Megakat City had been lucky someone of his brilliance had come to work at the Space Center. And now look at him. A monster under the mental influence of an evil alien. Grabbing Callie by both arms, he turned and steered her backwards further into the room and towards one of the egg clusters. Yes, that was what they were, Callie decided; Ci-Kat-A eggs. And if Street was here, the queen couldn’t be far away. No way the eggs’ mother would leave them unattended for long, even with a guardian protecting the nest.
She struggled, but Street’s grip is like a vice; despite how skinny he'd become, he was deceptively strong. His tight grip was painful. Underneath the back of his tattered lab coat, an undulating bulge squirms and presses outwards; Callie could make out the shape of wings.
“Bzzz!” Street exulted. “How fortunate of you to come! Because you'll soon be working for the new masters of Megakat City!”
“What are you talking about?!” Callie demanded.
“I now recognize that blasted landscape I saw on the Kat Sat 1's data recorder output in my lab…” Street explained, “the aftermath of an atomic blast which consumed the entire planet! A whole alien world destroyed by the Joining to provide food for the queen's offspring!” Things were getting more serious by the second. Callie guessed another visit to the Megakat Nuclear Plant was on the queen’s itinerary. The thought of Megakat City… the entire world… enduring the kind of atomic destruction and contamination Street was talking about horrified Callie. Oh no, thought Callie. What if that’s where the queen was!
Street bent Callie over backwards, as though to bite her throat like a vampire, salivating mandibles inches from her neck. “We will hit all nuclear plants simultaneously, and turn Megakat City, and the world, into an endless supply of food for the master race!”
“But everyone will die...!” Callie felt the need to point out the obvious, in a last ditch appeal to Street’s reason.
But he was ready with an answer. One Callie was surprised she hadn’t considered… though she knew why… because it was too horrible to contemplate. “Not if they become like me…” he declared smugly, “just as you are about to!”
Behind Callie, the eggs squirmed and bulged, the Ci-Kat-A drones beginning to emerge, buzzing excitedly. Overcoming her horror and disgust, Callie managed to wrench one arm free, the one holding her briefcase. “I don't think so!” she yelled, defiant and determined.
She shoved Street away from herself.
Or tried to.
He was strong, but the few inches she put between herself and the mutated half kat, half alien scientist was enough for her to swing her briefcase around in an arc, clobbering him in the head with it. The handle broke off and the briefcase went tumbling away, but Street was sufficiently stunned for Callie to shove him off his feet. He staggered and falls to the floor, clutching his head.
Throwing the handle of the briefcase away, Callie ran to the elevator and pressed the call button. But someone downstairs had pressed the call button to summon it and the elevator took too long for her liking, and with Street stirring nearby, Callie elected to run and scurry under a desk, intending to wait there until she could try the elevator again. Or… something.
Street rose and looks around. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. He glanced over, but saw that the elevator car was empty. After a moment, the doors slid shut, and he began hunting around the room for Callie. She couldn’t be allowed to leave. Not without being under the Ci-Kat-A’s control.
Under the desk, Callie took out her SWAT Kat communicator and pressed the activation button.
~*~
The Turbokat was parked on the hydraulic platform that raised and lowered it. T-Bone and Razor were atop it with buckets of soapy water. T-Bone had big sponge. Razor had a brush. The pair were busily scrubbing the yellowish cocoon gunk out of the engines. T-Bone grit his teeth, really putting his back into it. A small portable TV sat on the floor, showing a Kat's Eye News Spotlight on Science report about the incident at MASA with Tab Mouser as the presenter now.
“The alien lifeform is thought to have been unintentionally brought back by MASA’s Kat Sat 1, which neither Dr. Street nor his colleague Dr. Thorne were evidently aware was coated in this sticky slime,” Tab was saying as his cameraman’s view switched to some residue of said gunk on the satellite’s side.
“Sticky, smelly slime... ughhh,” groaned T-Bone. “I'm gonna need a bath after this.”
The alarm went off. Razor was instantly alert. “That bath's gonna have to wait, buddy!”
Annoyed but serious, T-Bone hopped down from the jet and answered the wall phone, pressing the button beside it to stop the alarm. “T-Bone here. What's up, Ms. Briggs?”
“We’ve got a little problem in the Megakat Tower penthouse, guys!” said Callie, her voice quiet, as though she were whispering.
~*~
In the penthouse, Callie remained under the desk as Dr. Street searched for her. As though sensing her, Street turned and eyed the desk menacingly.
Suddenly, he hunched forwards. The bulge in his back ripples grotesquely. With a ripping sound, a pair of Ci-Kat-A wings tore through the back of the lab coat, buzzing.
Stepping up to the desk, he balled up his fist and punched through the top. The fist smashed through into the bottom area where the sitter's legs went, where Callie was hiding. She screamed and scrambled out of hiding, bolting once more for the elevator. Street turned and chased after her, but he didn't run… instead, he lifted up, his new wings flapping rapidly, and flew after her.
~*~
Hearing Callie's scream, T-Bone hung up, turning to Razor, who was still on top of the Turbokat with his sudsy brush. “Looks like our creepy crawly visitors have taken up residence in the Megakat Tower penthouse! Come on!”
Razor threw his brush down, scrambling along the top of the jet and hopping into his seat. T-Bone rushed over and leapt in. The canopy, its glass still cracked from the sonic attacks of the drones earlier, slid shut, and the platform rotates around so the jet's nose is facing the exit tunnel. The engines roared to life and a moment later the Turbokat flew out of the tunnel.
“Just call us the Bug-Busters!” T-Bone declared.
~*~
The flying Street tackled Callie Briggs from behind. The two tumbled to the floor. Callie ended up on her back with Street atop her. Grabbing the sides of her face, he bent her head back, exposing her throat, preparing to bite her. “I want you on our side!” he snarled, sounding completely deranged. “One bite and you will be!”
Callie was certain it was all over. Goodbye independent thought, hello… whatever it is that awaited for anyone unlucky enough to be bitten by one of these things.
“Bite this!” a voice said from outside.
Razor.
Pausing as he was about to bite Callie's throat, Street looked up in surprise to see the Turbokat hovering outside the window. Before he could react, an Octopus Missile smashed through the glass, the tip opening, the eight-armed metal claw grabbing the unprepared scientist's face tightly, cutting into his flesh. He grunted in pain as he was propelled backwards, off of Callie, and sailed across the penthouse...
...to crash through the window on the opposite side of the room! He tumbled uncontrollably down and down towards the street far below, screaming all the way. He tried to unfurl his wings and take flight, but his downward moment and increasing speed made that impossible; they just billowed around his falling form uselessly. He turned and watched through the tightly gripping arms of the Octopus Missile as the sidewalk rushed up to meet him.
Then everything went black.
In the penthouse, Callie got up. “Thanks, guys!”
“Better get outta there, Ms. Briggs!” yelled T-Bone, we knew the penthouse and likely the top few floors of the Megakat Tower weren’t long for this world.
Needing no further persuasion, Callie grabbed her briefcase with the broken off handle and ran to the elevator, getting inside. The doors slid shut.
Outside, a squadron of three hastily modified Enforcer choppers arrived on the scene as the Turbokat continued hovering outside the penthouse window, having been on patrol nearby and flying over when Commander Feral noticed the Turbokat.. Each chopper had two contraptions mounted on its undercarriage: a flamethrower nozzle with fuel tank and a spray nozzle with an attendant tank of insecticide.
They converged on the building as the SWAT Kats watched. Though the windows, Feral could see the ghastly sight of the second alien nest.. “Clear the area, SWAT Kats!” his voice boomed over a loudspeaker. “The Enforcers will eradicate these pests!” For once, the SWAT Kats didn’t argue. They could tell Feral meant business. T-Bone banked the jet away from the building as the choppers encircled it. “Fire flamethrowers!” Feral yelled through the loudspeaker once he was reasonably sure the vigilantes were safely away.
The ad-hoc flamethrowers shot forth jets of flame from all three choppers, bathing the penthouse in fire. The windows shattered as the flames poured in, torching the eggs. They caught alight, some of them popping disgustingly, burning up without a single drone managing to hatch. The new nest was completely destroyed. Feral watched from his chopper in smug satisfaction.
Suddenly, the Ci-Kat-A queen, having been away from the building the entire time, swooped in angrily. Feral's two escorts banked away in panic, but the Commander remained stoic.
“Now you’ve ticked it off, Feral!” observed T-Bone, speaking into the radio.
“Let's see how it likes bug spray!” the Enforcer Commander replied smugly.
His chopper rotated and sprayed forth a jet of toxic white mist, hitting the queen dead in the face... and much to Feral's shock, it accomplished absolutely nothing except to make her angrier. Shrieking her rage, she flew directly at him. As before, he lflung his hands up, shielding his face from the scream shattering the glass of his windshield. His chopper wobbled in the air, auto-rotating down towards the Megakat Tower penthouse; the huge insect grabbed for the plunging aircraft, missed, and the chopper smashes into the lower portion of the roof comprising the top of the 299th floor, severely damaging one of the elevated penthouse's support struts.
The burning floor now began to tilt awkwardly to one side, threatening to detach from the top of the tower and fall. Still wearing his flight helmet, Feral, shaken but okay, crawled free of his crashed chopper and watched as the queen now pursued the Turbokat.
The alien bug gives another shriek as she swooped over the top of the jet. The sonic vibration of her cry completely shattered the already cracked cockpit of the jet, making the SWAT Kats wince. They were now sitting with their heads completely exposed to the open air.
Shaking his head to clear the ringing in his ears, Razor inspected his instrument panel. “The Ci-Kat-A's scream messed up the guidance system!” Which meant no fancy schmancy missiles. Suddenly, he got an idea, remembering how these things tended not to fly very well if something happened to their wings or if they were otherwise unable to unfurl them. “Fly in close and I'll tie up her wings!”
Nodding, T-Bone swooped around and flew at the big bug, the Sky Claw descending from the jet's undercarriage. “If I saw this in a movie I'd say it was crazy!”
“Yeah, and one of the good guys always gets it in the end!” Razor added, remembering the fate of his friend’s favorite character from Hard Shell. That fighter pilot guy.
The Sky Claw hooked onto the queen's left wing and whips around her midsection, coiling around her and pinning both wings down. She floundered in the air, arms flailing, and managed to swipe one clawed finger into the open cockpit of the Turbokat, hooking the collar of Razor's flight suit. He yelped and was painfully yanked free of his seat, his seatbelt snapping. Well, he thought as he felt himself joining the doomed queen in her plummet, looks like the weapons officer of this jet, not the pilot, was the one who was gonna “get it.”
“Razor! Nooooo!” T-Bone screamed in helpless anger.
As she fell, the queen transferred Razor from one hand to the other to get a better grip on him, clearly intending to drag him down with her. However, the thin SWAT Kat manages to wrench one arm free because suddenly the huge hand he’d been transferred to wasn’t gripping him as tightly as the other, aiming his Glovatrix up.
He fired a grappling line.
The claw at the end grabbed onto and grips a window sill. The line went taut, and pulled Razor free of the queen's hand, jerking him up as she continued falling away from him, tumbling three-hundred stories down, down, down, her enraged and frustrated shrieking shattering windows as she went.
At the bottom, in the courtyard, hearing a shrieking sound, Jonny glanced up. Ann got out of the parked news van and watched as the shadow of the falling Ci-Kat-A grew bigger and bigger as it descended over Jonny, the hapless news cameraman aiming up with his camera. As he was doing this and as Ann was rushing over to pull him out of the way, the pair backing away as the shadow of the falling monster got larger and larger. Mayor Manx's long limo drove into the courtyard and pulled up to the front entrance, returning from the airport.
Seated beside the Mayor in back was Mr. Young. Some expensive milk was chilling in a bottle in a bucket of ice by the Mayor’s right elbow. The limo's car phone rang as the chauffeur stopped and Manx answered it. “Hello?”
Young glanced at him sideways, suspicious and skeptical.
“Uh, Mayor Manx,” said Callie’s voice on the other end, “I don't want to alarm you, but I don't think now is a good time to show the building.”
Manx felt a knot of worry twisting in his gut. Up front, the chauffeur watched Ann and Jonny backing away and sat forward, blinking, wondering what–then he saw the shadow growing larger and larger. Sitting directly behind him, so did Mr. Young. Frowning in confusion, the Siamese businessman sat further forward, wondering what was going on.
Oblivious, Manx looked at the phone. “Not a good time, eh…?” He trailed off uncertainly and turned to look at Mr. Young sitting beside him, taking the businessman’s attention off the shadow growing larger and larger on the ground outside. Young noticed that Hizzoner was sweating nervously. “Uh, Mr. Young, how 'bout a quick round of golf?”
Young looked at him suspiciously. His experience with Manx last time told him that when the Mayor got nervous, it meant something bad was happening. Or about to. Suddenly, the Ci-Kat-A slammed into the pavement in front of the car with such force that the entire limo was rocked on its wheels, the three kats inside being jolted in their seats. Although the queen was momentarily stunned, she soon got up, shaking away the dizziness from her landing.
She decided to attack the first thing she sees: the limo. She shrieked, shattering the windshield and all the glass. She began crawling towards the car threateningly. Before the chauffeur could throw the vehicle into reverse and get out of there, the burning penthouse finally broke loose from the top of the tower and plunged three-hundred stories…
…and lands squarely atop the huge bug. She exploded like a burst balloon, splattering the limo and its occupants with thick, slimy green alien bugs. Manx, Young and their chauffeur all coughed and spluttered in disgust as they were drenched.
“Back to the airport, driver…” Manx said dejectedly, letting the phone call from his hand as Young made a valiant but failed attempt to wipe himself clean with a handkerchief. So much for Megakat Tower’s grand reopening.
~*~
With Manx’s plans to sell space in the Megakat Tower washed away in a tidal wave of alien bug guts, the authorities turned their attention to more pressing matters, namely dealing with the surviving people who’d been by the Ci-Kat-A. At the MASA Space Center, Commander Feral and Callie watched as Wells’ hazmat squad, accompanied by some armed Enforcer commandos, wheeled the five captured guards along in sealed tubes made from reinforce armored glass. Inside, they thrashed around madly. Like Street, they were well along in their metamorphoses, their uniforms hanging loosely off their increasingly thinner and thinner bodies, face more angular and insectile, less feline; the only one who was remotely recognizable was the one with the mustache, as his distinctive facial hair seemed determined to stick around even as its owner mutated into an alien bug.
The Enforcers pushed him and his fellow guards towards a waiting truck with the Enforcer logo on the side accompanied by warning labels and biohazard symbols. Other MASA guards, normal ones, watched them go forlornly.
Even though she was to some degree playing catch-up with the whole situation, Callie felt bad for the five captive guards. Maybe the three Enforcers who’d been killed shortly after being bitten were the lucky ones. “Isn't there anything we can do for them, Commander...?” she asked after a moment.
“I don't know yet, Deputy Mayor.” Feral sounded sad. Sad and angry. Likely at losing three of his pilots. “The aliens' bite is highly contagious and toxic.”
“What will happen to them?” Her concern wasn’t only for the guards but for the other citizens of Megakat City, perhaps the world, in the event of the Ci-Kat-A returning to Earth. It would do katkind well to have a cure for the aliens’ bite.
“The boys at Megakat Biochemical Labs are eager to take a look at them,” said Feral. “Hopefully they can figure out a way to cure them.” He suddenly glowered. “In the meantime, I'm going to try and convince Mayor Manx to give me the funding to give the Enforcers our own in-house laboratory... to better combat this kind of thing in the future.” He was silent a moment. Grimly, he added, “Three good Enforcers died today. And now five innocent guards' lives have been ruined. Probably forever.”
He sighed sadly. Seeing him clenching his fists at his sides and trembling, Callie put a hand on his arm. “Don't worry, Commander,” she assured him. “I'll convince the Mayor to give you your lab.” She meant it, too. She didn’t like Feral very much but knew how personally he took his failure to protect Megakat City sometimes. Especially when people got killed. Especially his own men. “And I'll personally supervise Megakat Biochemical's work on studying the captured guards.”
She smiled.
Feral looked down at her hand on his arm, then up at her, and managed something resembling a smile and returned and gave a small nod. “Thank you, Ms. Briggs. Much appreciated.” A typical curt, Commander Feral-esque reply.
He turned to leave.
“And by the way…”
He stopped, looking back at her over his shoulder. “...I'm glad you survived. We may not see eye to eye on your…” he winced and grumbled, “...beloved SWAT Kats…” he trailed off and sighed, “...but Megakat City needs people like you. To make sure that idiot Manx is kept honest.”
Callie was surprised and couldn’t imagine how difficult it was to set aside his pride to say that. “Commader, I–”
Snapping back to his usual self, Commander Feral turned away and resumed walking off. “That will be all, Deputy Mayor. Have a nice day.”
He marched off. Callie smiled, watching him go. If only he weren’t so grouchy all the time, she thought, Feral could - was - a decent man. She just seemed afraid to show it outside of his immediate dedication to protecting the city.
Something occurred to her. “What about Street…?”
“He remains at large,” Feral said as he continued walking away. “We found the smashed apart missile the SWAT Kats hit him with, but he himself is nowhere to be found. But don’t worry, Ms. Briggs. You can assure ‘His Honor’ that Street will soon join his fellow MASA employees as a guest at Megakat Labs.”
~*~
In the garage, Chance and Jake sit on the sofa, facing the TV. Chance is leaning forward with rapt attention as a trailer for Hard Shell 2: The Revenge played on TV. Beside him, though, Jake is slumped, looking worn out. On the screen, a trailer for a movie is playing. “He’s back and badder than ever!” boomed the deep-voiced announcer. “Don't miss Hard Shell 2: THe Revenge!”
Chance turned and looked at Jake. “Whoa! Hey, Jake, wanna go?”
Jake’s answer surprised him. “Naw. I've had enough big bug action for one lifetime. And I thought you would have, too, after being kat-napped and cocooned by a giant Ci-Kat-A!”
Chance shuddered at the memory, but then shrugged. He noticed a small beetle crawling on the armrest of the couch. “I guess you're right. I mean, I'll probably never really get over my, uh... let's say ‘dislike’ of bugs... but handlin' the big ones does make the little ones not seem so scary.”
He let the beetle crawl on his finger and smiled happily.
The End.
