EPISODE FIVE
The elevator cage dropped so abruptly that Kurt expected to start floating. He counted the passing seconds grimly, hoping to distract himself from his uneasy stomach.
It was no more than six seconds before the elevator jarred to a stop. The lights flickered and went out.
"What the...?" Tweed Jacket's bass growled. "Where in the hell are the emergency lights?" Kurt squeezed himself in what he hoped was direction of the door, soothing himself with the five-times tables.
After a moment, a match flared, illuminating the faces of his captors. Ms Blue Suit was stabbing her forefinger at the keypad of a cell phone.
"Closer!" she snapped. "I can't see the damn numbers!"
Tweed Jacket yelped as the match burned his fingers.
"I didn't get it," the soprano voice announced.
"Cripes! You call yourself a covert operative, and you can't use a phone in the dark?"
Another match flared, and subsided almost instantly. Tweed Jacket began to swear in earnest.
Something thumped and scrabbled above them.
"What's that?" the woman squeaked.
A slim blue beam was probing through the ceiling, cutting the metal.
Tweed Jacket roared in defiance. Everything blazed blindingly like a lightning strike. Kurt caught a momentary glimpse of Tweed Jacket and Blue Suit shooting light beams with weapons that looked like props from Star Trek. A large chunk of the ceiling vaporized.
The beams shut off. Kurt looked up, his overtaxed eyes fighting to pierce the darkness. Something clunked on the floor, followed by a gentle hiss.
"Oh shit!" Blue Suit's voice whispered.
Kurt's throat tightened. His queasiness became a flood of nausea. He gagged.
"Gonna ... barf," he announced to no one in particular as he collapsed against the wall and slid to the floor. His final thought was a prayer that the vet would find Melissa a good home.
EPISODE SIX
"Sir? Can you hear me?"
Someone was gently slapping the back of his hand. Kurt opened his eyes to unbearable brightness.
"Wha --?"
"Oh, good. You're awake." A woman's motherly face hovered above him, backlit by fluorescent lights. "You're going to be fine. Just fine. No broken bones, no concussion that we can tell."
Kurt reached for his pocket and discovered that his jeans had disappeared. He struggled to sit up.
"My wallet! Where ... my wallet?"
His pink-uniformed guardian pushed him down gently. "Take it easy. You're not ready to sit up yet. Everything will be fine."
He was in a high, narrow bed. His pillow stank of chlorine. On the left, a bank of electronic monitors; on the right, a narrow counter with cluttered shelves above it. Hospital. He was in a hospital. But how had he come here, and why?
YOU ARE READING
Cyberkatz 1999
Science Fiction1999: Internet was new technology; virtual reality was in its infancy; phones were not as smart as they are today. While people worried about the transition to the next millennium, the world was quietly being taken over by ... cybernetic cats? K...
