‘Come on, come on Charlie, get your ass out hear matey boy’ a voice shouted from outside.
'Oh hell’ muttered Charles ‘it’s the boss, what does he want now?’ With a quick glance around the front of shop, Charles was pleased - all look sorted and tidy so he opened the door.
‘Watcha Charlie’ said Vickery, a short rather fat balding little man, somewhere in his mid sixties, as he breezed past Charles like he weren’t there; ‘I hear you’ve got an interesting fat moggy in?’ he said. ‘Where’s the little bugger?’
'Umm, ahh he’s in, em, eh the quarantine room’ stuttered Charles. ‘Eh how did you know about him Mr Vickery? I haven’t reported anything?’
‘No you haven’t have you Charlie, its just as well Sophie contacted me isn’t it now?’ retorted Vickery in as sarcastic a tone as he could muster. ‘And prey tell why have you put said cat into quarantine?’
Charles tried to get a word out but couldn’t.
'Have you any idea how much it costs to decontaminate that quarantine room after use? Have you any idea at all? Eh? Come on speak up lets not be deprived of that expensive private education that you were so lucky to receive, come on what you got to say for yourself Mr bloody spend my money Higgins? Come on, and speak up or has the cat got your tongue?’ Vickery had a look of surprise then broke into laughter when he realised his own joke.
'No Sophie rang me earlier to say she hadn’t seen anything like it before and thought I should know’, grabbing a lab coat Vickery headed out back towards the quarantine room followed by a flustered Charles Higgins. ‘Come on man keep up’ snapped Vickery, ‘now tell me what tests have you done?’.
‘Ere none’ was Charles rather feeble answer.
‘What do you mean none?’ snapped Vickery, 'have you taken bloods?’ have you weighed the animal? Have you at least checked for an id micro chip? Please tell me you have! ‘Stormed Vickery.
'Ere, ummmm no I a ere, I didn’t think’ spluttered Charles, wishing he was anywhere else right now anywhere but not here.
As they entered the quarantine room Vickery turned to Charles pointing, a wagging finger straight into his face ‘you’d better have a good reason for this Charles, a bloody good reason, for placing non paying guest in my quarantine suit, now where’s this cat with the mysterious symptoms?’
Charles opened the inspection door and peered in, but couldn’t believe what he saw ‘ere um he’s in here sir’ Charles stammered.
'Well outa my way’ barked Vickery, ‘let the dog see the rabbit, or in this case the cat’ he laughed to himself, two great puns in a row, both at Charles expense.
‘What the?’ Exclaimed Vickery, 'is this some kind of joke?' Are you taking the whatsit?’ he shouted ‘get the bloody door open there’s nowt wrong with that animal, get the door open now!’
Charles fumbled with the door lock and opened up allowing Vickery room to step in.
‘Hello puss’ said Vickery crouching to get a closer look at the cat, ‘and what seems to be your problem?’ he asked, 'it would seem my assistants think its April 1st , cause I don’t see any other reason why a perfectly healthy cat like you, should be residing in an expensive quarantine suite like mine.’ Slowly, standing up, he turned towards Charles adding 'when there’s absolutely nothing wrong with it.!’.
‘But Mr Vickery, I assure you this cat was acting very strangely, I’d never seen anything like it’ Charles tried to defend himself.
‘Well Mr Higgins, for you not to have seen anything like it isn’t saying very much now is it! Shouted Vickery ‘let me tell you what I see – I see a cat, admittedly it’s rather an overweight Tom cat, ginger in colouration and no doubt its been castrated judging by the size of him, a procedure that I feel should be done to you – you imbecile!’ Vickery’s face was turning purple now and a prominent vein on his forehead was visibly trying to push its way out. ‘I want that creature scanned immediately for a micro chip do you hear me Mr Higgins?
‘Yes sir’ Charles replied.
'And do you think you can do what I am asking you to do Mr Higgins?’ Vickery was back to his best sarcastic tone again.
'Yes sir’ responded Charles.
'Yes sir what?’ snapped Vickery.
'Yes sir Mr Vickery I will scan the cat and see if he has an id micro chip’. Charles feeling like he was back a junior school, up before the head struggled to get his words out.
'Now assuming the cat does have a chip Mr Higgins, what do you suppose you will do next?’ barked Vickery.
‘Contact the owner’ replied Charles.
'Precisely Mr Higgins,’ hissed Vickery through clenched teeth yellow with years of cheap cigarettes, ‘you’ll contact the owner or owners and you will ask said owner or owners to come to this guest house establishment, at a time that is convenient to them, to collect the cat, reminding them as politely as possible that this isn’t a bloody hotel for fat cats and that we expect compensation for his board and lodge’ the vein was now dancing a pulsing jig ,' is that clear?’.
'Eh yes sir’ Charles wanted to cry, but knew that to do so, would be the end of his career. 'What Mr Vickery?’ he went on ‘what should I do if there is no chip?’
‘God give me strength’ Vickery smarted as he responded and tried to stand face to face with Charles, but being shorter he was forced to look up, Charles did his best to look anywhere but directly down at the raging vein on his forehead.. ‘In that case Charlie you contact the local council and arrange for that cat to be collected and taken to the stray cats and dogs home, its their bloody problem not mine’ he raged with spittle hitting Charles full in the face ‘and you know what they will do if he aint claimed within 3 days don’t you?’
‘Yes sir replied’ Charles
‘Yes sir indeed matey, they will get rid, sorry I mean they will euthenase the cat, got it? Something I’ll do to you if you put another healthy stray in my expensive quarantine unit, now piss off and sort it out’. With that Vickery strode back to the office, flung the lab coat on a chair and stormed out of the building. His last comment was ‘I’ll see you in my office a 9 sharp on Monday – got it? With that he was gone.
Charles turned back into the quarantine room, the cat was sitting quietly on his haunches nonchalantly looking at him: the eyes were normal the whole animal looked, well looked normal, like a typical fat cat doing just what typical fat cats do.
'Right cat’ said Charles lets get you scanned.
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The Seeding
Science FictionThey came to do what was expected: To Seed and Colonise. Billions were scattered - only a tiny percentage would find a viable, fertile home. One such seed fell to earth.