Something Fishy

Chapter 7: My Air Duct Excursion

     “Would you shut it?” snarled Cassidee from the other side of the bed.

     “I’m sorry,” I rasped, and promptly sneezed for the eleventh time. “Cat allergies. I need some fresh air.”

     “Well, I need some sleep,” said Cassidee, rolling away from me.

     I didn’t get how she could sleep at a time like this. I mean, she was deep underground in the secret lair of a man who calls himself The Boss and has his own personal robot slave and cat minion. Even if I wasn’t suffering from an allergy attack, I sure as heck wouldn’t be sleeping. I wouldn’t even be trying to sleep.

     “Seriously, it sounds like you’re breathing into a megaphone.”

     “I’m sorry! It’s like there’s a cat in here!” As I spoke those words, I felt the hairs on the back of my arms prickle. Slowly, I rolled over, put my glasses on, and yanked the light cord.

     “What are you doing?!”

     “Did you see that?” I point wildly at the heating vent.

      “Hrrmm,” grumbled Cassidee, burying her face under the covers.

      “There was a cat…sitting in the air duct, watching us. I swear.” I got up and stood below it. “It was right there!”

     “Mrrmph,” said Cassidee.

      “I’m going up,” I said decidedly.

     “Up where?”

     “The air duct,” I said.

     “Why?”

      “Did you hear anything I just said?”

      “No, not really.”

      “Never mind,” I said. I looked around for something to stand on to reach the vent. My gaze settled on a dresser.

     “Seriously, what are you doing?”

      “I…trying….to….move this dresser,” I huffed, shoving it under the vent. “Now, no one can know where I’m going, so don’t tell anyone.”

     “I don’t even know where you’re going,” said Cassidee.

     “Good,” I said. I reached up, pulled the vent out, and heaved myself up (with considerable effort, due to my lack of upper body strength).

     “ ’my god, you’re so weird,” I heard Cassidee say.

     Pish. It’s not like that’s the first time I’ve been called THAT. Oddly, though, hearing it made me feel somewhat empowered. I was the weird one, which meant I was free to do what other people were afraid to do. Or too sane to.

     Like squeezing through a dusty air duct reeking of cat.

     Fighting off allergic (and now, claustrophobia) attacks, I forced myself onward. A little ways ahead, I could hear a scrabbling sound, like claws clicking against the metal chute.

     I scooted towards it, but stopped abruptly when I heard voices from below.

     “ – do with them, anyway?” said Basil.

     “I don’t know, really. They could be put to use in so many ways. Factory labor, spies, messengers. I could even employ them as servants, and then I could dissect you for scrap metal!”

     “I…I don’t really like that last one, sir.”

     “Like? Robots can’t ‘like’. That’s just your self-preservation software speaking.”