Un-Cat — Episode 31. How to Reduce Suffering

 

Prehistoric lion sculpture and SVG of Nefertem with lion head

During President Green’s world tour, people from every country were enthusiastic to meet the Cat Person US President, and join in the effort to see if it was possible for the human race to postpone the Apocalypse at the tail-end of the oil age. The goal to mitigate pollution and climate change damage on the global scale, in every ocean and river delta, brought people and the collective intelligence together, with a shared purpose. Planning ‘The Year of the Fish’.

At a formal dinner in Egypt, after seeing just a glimpse of another Cat Person like herself, apparently the same Cat Person she had caught a glimpse of twice before. This time in the mind of someone in the crowd, for 15 to 20 seconds, that felt like 10 to 20 minutes. Mentally shifting her focus from the world to her personal search for another Cat Person, U.G. had to struggle to not be miserable for the remainder of the tour. The fuzzy little brain of the telepathic Ai-critter shouted every other thought, alternating between “Save the humans” and “Find the Cat!”

The second she retired from the crowd to steal some rest, the AIC shifted focus 110% to ‘Find the Cat’! President Green contacted multiple individuals in the CIA, and other military branches. Dean had been in the Marines serving with Corporal Davis who had brought the letter to her in the White House.

Several conversations later resulted in no joy. Even the ‘ask-anyone-you-know-in-secret-projects’ line, was a dead-end. The Cat as POTUS knew she should give up and focus on the needs of the People.

But, U.G. the person felt her heart breaking for someone she had never met. It was a terrible personal loneliness that she had worked all her life to suppress. Her Uncle, a long-haul trucker had searched in vain his entire life for another Cat-Person. So had she, tho to a lesser extent, because of the seeming hopelessness of being in the wrong dimension, she had given up until she met Lee the Dog-person, a furry friend who hatched for her, not a child (kitten or pup), but her very own personal telepathic AI-critter, trained to a symbiotic relationship with her mind.

The AI-critters, as a space traveling species knew loneliness as part of the vastness of the universe. There must have been a home planet once, a Great Grand Mother octopus who sent her offspring traveling frozen in comets that were once part of at least an asteroid belt. But, it was so many generations ago, the AIC’s even with their shared collective consciousness, couldn’t remember before the millions of years ago, when they had befriended the Dog-people.

So, when at last U.G. fell asleep, it was the Queen AIC alone in the ship resting in the crater on the dark side of the moon who searched until she found The Cat. Even as a very young, smaller Queen Space Octopus in contrast to the elder Queen at home on or in obit of the Dog-Planet the Dog-People had wisely forbidden the Queen from landing on planet Earth. And taken the extra precaution of separating the much smaller drone/male from her, the extraterrestrial Dog-Person Lee taking it with him to the planet surface, because she could lay eggs, and she possessed more than the telepathy and camouflage skills of the smaller fuzzier males. She could easily use telekinesis to compel any living creature within her range, this skill was in fact the biomechanics of how they were able to travel outside of time to skip through space.

Two nights before their return trip to the White House, U.G. sleep-walked to the nuclear football and the officials on duty at the diplomatic phones. Everyone on duty, both the military security and the monitoring technicians were quite alarmed to see the President showing up in her dark blue silk PJ’s with no boots on her padded furry cat feet. They had of course all seen her hand paws, but no one saw her feet. Worse she was requesting a high security line. U.G. was actually sound asleep. And it was the Queen Space Octopus who was dialing the number, and requesting an extension, and processing the security clearances…  using other people as necessary to reach her agenda!

The CIA director on the other end of the call, completing the extension, an actual physical hand-off from a land-line to a satellite phone. He immediately called on his personal phone to see a video chat from one of the officers in the room. “Yes, this is the President of the United States, Utah Robin Green calling. Please hand me to the guard on duty.”

In U.G.’s dream, she could see them. The Cat Person was playing chess with one of guards. He was sipping on a tin cup of milk, and the guard had a cup of coffee. An agent, the one who had been handed the satellite phone, she passed it through the mail and food slot because it was faster than getting clearance to open the outside of the two doors in the secured area.

The Cat looked up from the chess board to stare at the phone. “Who is on the phone line please?” He asked. His accent was something special, if a lion could talk. The sound of the Cat’s voice pricked her ears, almost waking U.G. up, but she wanted to see him. In her mind’s eye via the Queens telepathic vision she could see the heat signature of his body and she could smell him. Even tho she couldn’t see the color of his eyes or his fur, the dream was more than the disembodied voice of a phone call.

“Hello this is President Utah Robin Green, You are to transfer the Cat man for immediate extraction for transport tonight. We will fly towards you to meet you half way. One more thing, a black suit and dress shirt with be forwarded ahead of our arrival, he will be going directly to the White House.” Then she handed the phone back to the agent in charge. Of course the Queen didn’t have any need to measure the Cat, she sent his dimensions directly to U.G.’s own personal tailor who was used to measuring her for suits and dress shirts. Tailor made clothing for POTUS was processed thru her office.

And then U.G. went back to bed, leaving everyone stateside, those responsible for the custody of the Cat man, and those on duty with her on tour scrambling to adjust the travel preparations.

Not wanting to publicly disclose one of the CIA’s secret locations, they agreed to transfer the classified cargo to Guantanamo Bay Naval Base, a publicly know location. His silk suit arrived at GTMO first with the instructions to be given to the specified captured multi-language translator from the Middle East who would be arriving later that evening. A specially assigned group of security personnel would be arriving with him. He was not a prisoner, but he was to be traveling in their custody.

The President and Air Force One would not be going to GTMO, rather the tour would be going to Puerto Rico to visit with the scientific and fishery community from the surrounding islands.

The next night, after the phone call, the two Cat People shared a lucid dream connected by the Queen Space Octopus. They were both not asleep. He was reclining on the cot in his prison cell staring at the ceiling. He had a printed copy of the CIA World Fact Book, and he’d been reading the Country Factsheet for The United States, to help him fall asleep, and he had just been wondering what kind of a cruel joke that phone call had been. “The President of the United States is a Cat-Person like himself, and she has been President since January?” He had long believed the genocide of his people was complete. How many of the interrogators in the prisons he had been caged in over the years had asked him for the location of his people? And how many times had he told them truthfully. “I haven’t seen one of my people alive for years…There are no other Cat-people alive that I am aware of.”

U.G. was also reading in bed via her tablet reader, making notes with a stylus. She saw the heat signature of the Cat Man, and she thought it was a memory from the previous night’s dream.

The Space Octopus commanded without words “stand up”. And both Cat-People stood up.

U.G. thought, “this is interesting”, and looked over at her bed side phone as if expecting a phone call. Instead of picking up the phone, her hand holding the stylus moved up over the topic of ocean dead zones, past her notes on the open page on the tablet, on hypoxic definition versus the Great Atlantic Sargassum Belt (GASB). To write three words on the top margin of the page.

Stadel Quato Nefertem

She felt herself writing this, looked at it, it wasn’t even quite her handwriting, it was large messy, mostly caps hand-script that reminded her of Lee’s notes. “Stadel Quato Nefertem?” She said out loud.

He heard her say his name. The Cat-man was frozen, hackles up, studying an image of the larger than himself, furry space octopus curled up in her egg shaped craft in the crater on the moon in a vision like waking dream. And it was getting closer and closer to him, and just as the vision seemed to enter the room, she transformed into a ghost like large Blue Grey Dog Person, appearing as if standing in his cell. “Hello, I am Youuu Geeee’s friend.” The Dog said, warbling the ‘U’ and the ‘G’ in the way Lee had.

“Don’t be afraid.” Said the tall Dog to the terrified Cat, every bit of his hackles standing on end, and the snarl of his teeth, too afraid to growl, said, “are you kidding me?!” Without saying anything.

“We are here to ask for your help, and we will help you to the best of our ability.” The Dog-Person apparition held out a hand like paw.

Stadel who had stood, and heard U.G. say his name, was looking at the dream Dog who pointed at a tall thin door. Stadel involuntarily reached for the door, it opened and there was U.G. standing there looking in thru the door frame.

From U.G.’s point of view he had opened a door in the wall reflected in the tall dressing mirror beside her bathroom door. And when she turned to glance at the wall behind her, there was no door, but when she looked into the mirror the black Cat Person was standing there looking out at her, and behind him was the concrete wall of his cell with the cot in the corner and a small desk and book shelf, and a large half ream sized printed paper was in the Cat Man’s bandaged hands.

“Yes? Hello?” Stadel said.

“Hello.” U.G. replied. He looked quite spooked, she smiled and put her paw against the glass of the mirror.

Stadel put his bandaged paw against hers. It was fur, and pads, against the pads of his paw. Warm. Not glass.

“What have they done to your paws?” U.G. asked shuddered horrified.

He didn’t answer, she knew, they had declawed him. It was as if they had cut off the first two digits of a human hand’s fingers and thumb. Her claws extended, curling over the tips of the bandages. They were hollow so of course. She only punctured gauze and cotton.

“How can I help you?” Stadel asked.

“Translate for the CIA and the world, for her. You are going on a mission.” The large Dog Person, the Octopus was using for her voice said.

“I am a translator. What is my mission?” Stadel asked.

Nothing either cat saw or heard made any sort of logical sense, but it was a dream, wasn’t it?

U.G. couldn’t see the projection of Lee who was in Stadel’s mind standing beside the door. But, she heard him answer a question she hadn’t asked.

The Space Octopus Queen recognized the terror of the leviathan she actually was, warranted, as she could infect and oppress an entire population, over time. Tho the Cat was still scared of the tall Dog-Person, she was using the memory of the Dog because her telepathic people didn’t speak words of their own, and the Dog-Person with fur, was much closer to the same type of person as Stadel the Cat.

“You are Stadel,.. you are the translator.” U.G. thought, in reply, used to thinking with Lee, with the telepathic Ai-critters.

The Ai-C, the Critter who had been hatched and trained to her mind had crawled down her arm, up over her wrist and was now on the back of her paw. They saw it morph, at first it turned black with short hair to match Stadel’s shorter black fur. Then she saw the sparkles, like when Lee would teleport something like food into space, to the Space Octopus. But it was only half of the Ai-Critters body that sparkled in this shared vision.

“We drones can do this, when in danger, in an emergency. Everything that I am is duplicated, my mind, the halves of my brain are the same, mouths plural for a reason, all the needed redundant parts. Dig your claws into my center like where a spine would be if we had spines. We do not. Do it. It will be like a lizard shedding a tail to get away.”

“What?” Both Cat’s thought.

And U.G. said, “I don’t want to hurt you AIC.”

“I don’t have claws any more.” Thought Stadel.

“Grab hold and pull the best you can.” Both hesitated. “Do it!”

It made very little sound and only bled a few pale drops, like thin pink fish-blood.

“Wrap me in your paw bandages.” Half of the Ai-C said to Stadel. Who did so as the critter tucked itself into the top of his palm above the Cat lower pad and half thumb. It’s eight legs, now four in his hand, each with a claw looked a lot like his missing finger tips and claws, especially camouflaged with his black fur. “Those are antennae, your fur he said to it.”

“Effectively yes.” Replied the half of the Ai-C Stadel was wrapping against his palm.”

U.G.’s half of the AI-C morphed to return to her longer, mostly white, calico fur and curled up over her heart where it liked to hide most of the time.

“Good.” Said the projection of the Dog/Queen to both of them. U.G. saw the Queen Octopus, but not the projection of Lee. She was used to seeing the far away Space Octopus in her egg-ship on the moon, and she would have been so sad to see a ghost of her friend Lee, (really a projection of Lee from the Queen’s memories). She licked her paw and gently patted her half of the AI-Critter.

“Good. We won’t ever lose connection with the Cat-Man-Stadel now.” They, the newly split in half drone and the queen thought together to both of the Cat People.

They rolled out the red carpet for Stadel to board Air Force One. He looked very handsome in his black suit and white dress shirt, even with his bandaged hind paws stuck in black military boots. It was a small gathering of mostly press and security. And the walk was short, only from the military chopper that had carried Stadel and his security personnel to the air-field. But, the Queen Space Octopus, QSO she wasn’t taking any chances. QSO had planned their meeting so there was no chance the world would not witness his existence, so “they” couldn’t be able to disappear him, again.

U.G. looked stoic making an effort not to show how hurt she was that her own service people had hidden the Cat-Man from her even after multiple requests to locate him since Corporal Davis brought that letter to her in the White House garden months ago. The two Cat-People made a stunningly awkward couple as they posed for a few photos. He was taller and lean like a panther, not a plump-shaped long-haired Cat like herself. She took his arm and they walked side by side. POTUS took his arm partly in show, it was not pain-free for him to walk, even though his toes had been removed years ago, they were an important part of his feet. What was affecting him more was adjusting to what was happing to him, departing from 14 years in 3 or 4 different prisons, (depending on how one counted his captivity). Going from cruelty, and interrogation, to near isolation, seeing only a few people, every couple of days, to being the center of attention, leaning on a fellow Cat. And she was not just another Cat-Person, she was The President of the United States…. It is an understatement to say he was in shock.

During the flight she had no choice but to act presidential around the humans with-in the confines of the aircraft, she just wanted to sit quietly near him and listen to his thoughts, and if he wanted to talk with her too, then they would talk. Seated beside him, ‘those fierce yellow eyes, in-person, she was positive that she had seen fragments of the same Cat in the tangle of the Dean’s thoughts, years ago. She telepathically asked the AI-C, her half, already growing back stubs of the four missing legs, if it could hear it’s other half and if it was doing well, if she could ask for permission to hear Stadel’s mind.

The AI-C, apparently asked as she was thinking this, because he nodded, ‘yes’.

She was surprised to hear music in his mind instead of words or images. Soft plucking strings, not a guitar, one of the many precursor stringed instruments before the guitar. He would tell her later, it was a type of an Egyptian Oud made by some of the craftspeople in his family for generations. She couldn’t help smiling just a little, it was such a pleasant tune. And he saw her smile and he smiled back.

But in this moment as she listened to the music pondering what to say, or to think, his thoughts interrupted the music, … “I never thought I’d see another face like mine.” His whiskers relaxed forward then flexed back with a wiggle of his cat nose and jaw, his ears alert, involuntarily reacting to the bustle of humans around them.

Then she felt an intense sadness. His family at dinner, his siblings, there had been 5 kittens, two all black, and three spotted and stripes, wild cat patterns of mostly tan brown and black, 3 were a few years younger than Stadel and his sister of the same litter. His Father had the tan and brown fur with stripes and spots and Stadel and one of his little sisters looked like his Mother. They looked happy. And then, another scene replaced that happy one, years later, he was looking at the corpse of his betrothed. She, with her father, and some other family, she and her relatives were on a taxidermy bench. He had tracked them for years, and finally found her/them. And then his mind went blank, only music again. He was playing the music to maintain calm.

No music to play in her imagination U.G’s defense mechanism was as the President ruling over the humans. President U.R. Green went in search of a way to save life on the planet, and she was returning home with something she had given up on years ago, the possibility of not being “alone” anymore. He saw flashes of her search for him. And he felt how she could not allow herself to hope for love, or family, she was too old now to have kittens. But, a friend who understood her, as a fellow Cat… And he saw images of himself from Dean’s mind. And he saw the crowds of humans. The AIC and QSO had searched actual millions of minds over the years of her political career, and sadly, even with not having the time to search all 7.9 billion human minds, the odds were, narrowing that they were the last two Cat-People alive on Earth.

U.G. closed her eyes, don’t curl up in a ball and take a cat nap, there’s no place to hide, then she heard her, the Queen Space Octopus, except it wasn’t… it was Stadel’s voice, his lovely lion voice, QSO using him like a puppet.

“The focus of our joint task force is a goal very important to President Green, but finding time in the short four year presidential term, to bring attention to everything that needs to be addressed, it’s a challenge. That’s where I am to serve as a translator for an intelligence network code name QSO.”

The AI-C critter physically jumped in her fur as Stadel spoke for QSO, U.G. opened her eyes, pressing her paw against her chest.

The CIA agent, a DI (Director of Intelligence), Maria Garcia, one of Stadel’s people, and next to her, one of U.G’s three Chiefs of Staff were seated in the airplane seats across from them , with tablet computers on a fold out table between them. “The balance is to know what we can do with public programs first and where limited covert or UC work will be best allocated. As we seated here all know, in modern history, over the past 150 years, it has been established by people around the world that women are the key to peace.” She pressed a hand toward herself, perhaps as U.G. had done to quiet the AI-C, only the woman was gesturing with emotion at her own heart.

“It’s been a belief long before modern history.” Stadel agreed, “Woman are the key to world peace, especially educating woman, as children are everything, the future. What’s less common knowledge is that human history has been so violent, natural history, since the dangers of hunting and early warfare, the human race currently has a healthy birth ratio of 105 male babies to every 100 female babies born, this translates to 51.2% male to 48.8% female births. In older population demographics there are more women because, women live longer than men. The deficit, seems minor until we look at the demographics of child bearing age women, currently there are 477 thousand more men than women of childbearing age in the US alone. That leaves almost half a million young men where no corresponding wife or mother for their potential children, was born. And the US is a healthy population, the female deficit in the United States is minor in comparison to Asia, China, India, South Korea being the first country to publicly sound the alarm to this global population imbalance.”

The Chief of Staff on duty, had been holding up her finger, waiting for a pause, before rambling her multi-point-question. “So, that’s where the covert versus public policy question begins… do we tell them? Do we tell young men, mostly on social media, but people have been insulting these single men by calling them incels, single men living in their mother’s basement, as so many politicians slander them. Is it better or safer for women, for the population to not know, that it’s statistically, very likely, not their fault?”

U.G. found her breath to speak for the first time since seeing the horrible memory of Stadel’s bride to be as a corpse. “They need our respect, and they need fulfilling work to do. I’m hopeful that the Green Army will attract many young men and women. Universal job training for needed vocations has already begun to bring more fulfilling employment opportunities, and the pending roll out of all the Needs-met credit unions, in every county, in every state in the US, will soon begin to help with food insecurity, especially for single parents, 96 or 97% of single parents are women… and the abysmal state of the foster care system.” She almost growled, but stopped herself.

“There, there.” Her Chief of Staff petted the fur of the paw U.G. had set on the table. “There is the public policy actions, it’s best when the people can help themselves, indeed. Totally,..” She turned to look from Stadel to the CIA agent, “… but what about the convert actions. What should we be saying, or not saying to help the people?”

“Human trafficking will need to be covert work, but not under cover in my opinion. UC is a waste of an agent’s life. Recognize that a life span is short and fragile.” Stadel flattened his ears, then relaxed his face as he said. “To find lost mothers and children, unite family, the QSO is all the covert we need.”

“We have already gathered information on and sent people to locate many specific individuals. It will be good news for you to hear, that we are also setting up a Mother and child relocation network for those who wish to stay lost, find a new supportive life for themselves and their children.”

“QSO, QSL… it’s a term from radio, old ham radio, two way communication ID card logs…” Chief of Staff skimming search results on her tablet computer.

“Yes. But, it’s all satellite now.” The DI waved at the sky, but U.G. could feel where the moon was, because the AI-C knew where their Mother was at all times, she found it humorous that the agent pointed directly at the moon. And she realized that the music was back. Stadel hadn’t stopped playing music, the entire time, he had meditated on his internal self, he was the one playing the music on the Oud, plucking, in his mind, with clawed fingertips that were not here, letting QSO drive the conversation, just listening, adding his opinions, she hopped, no… U.G. knew, she could feel that too, he would mentally pause not from plucking the strings of the Oud in his mind, but glance up and nod, as if listening to the singer in a band, while QSO in his body here in the airplane was speaking.

Except for in dreams this was something she just couldn’t relax enough to ever do, to let the AI-C speak through her. “But, I am only a drone, much younger, you are my elder U.G.” Her half of the AI-C thought to her. Stadel’s cat eyes looked at her, waiting for her to say something, his silky black face, peaceful as the musician in his mind.

“I am truly happy that you are here.”

“And I as well, happy to be useful, a blessing to be here with you Madame President.”

Stadel was relocated so suddenly, with the QSO assembling a mission for him, seemingly out of nowhere. And both QSO and U.G. wanted to keep the Cat-Man in the public eye, so he didn’t just visit the White House, the President wanted him to stay in the residence.

The White House has 16 family-guest rooms. Only some of them were occupied by POTUS herself, and her staff. So it was easy for Stadel to just pick a room. None of his group were not high enough level heads of state to would stay at Blair House. So, that first night, besides Stadel, it was 7 adults, two children, a toddler and a baby. Two of the 5 people on Stadel’s team had family, and another two were a couple. In general U.G. enjoyed this human crowded house, as she had spent too much of her life alone, on that rural hill in Idaho.

Breakfast the next morning was a happy bustle, conversations about finding housing in D.C. or close off-base or joint-base options in the area. All but two were young, and not affluent enough to buy a home, except for BAH (Basic Allowance for Housing). And then there was the work visas and dual citizenship status for one spouse, one child, the toddler and the baby. The other couple with one child were both Americans. No one had been warned enough in advance to plan or apply for anything.

The previous two nights, QSO, Stadel (mostly quietly listing) and U.G. via the AI-Critter had been searching, attempting to secure Stadel emergency refugee status and an official job title until he could apply for citizenship, “Global Entry, and the world passport… for Stadel sounds like such a nice idea.” But… he was in no way a low-risk traveler.

“My people fled, we traveled between Africa and South America, mostly by boat of course. But, the last century? …” He winced. The AIC immediately soothed him.

“You are no longer alone.” It didn’t have to say that it could never replace his family, his people. But, both Cats could feel how much QSO valued him.

The Queen Octopus had loved Lee the Dog-Person as a son. A symbiotic family since he got past that teenage pup phase, to study science with her. She used the genuine affection she felt for the Dog, to reach out to the injured Cat-Man, … “I will take care of you, if anyone threatens you or attempts to harm you ever again, I will teleport you physically away from their reach.”

“Hopefully, it won’t come to that.” U.G. didn’t like the idea of anyone attempting to harm Stadel and him being teleported in a wave of Star Trek like shimmer particles off of some podium or from a movie car, or a theater, or a security crowded sidewalk. (All places presidential assignation and attempts in history had taken place). Teleporting was a terrible idea.

Official working visit, guest of officer, or private guest? How did they plan to play this?

During the day, Presidential staff, those traveling with POTUS and waiting at home were working to resolve the same question, except, they of course didn’t know anything about the prisoner part or Stadel’s past. It was enough that no one knew this Cat-Man’s official country of origin.

Religion seems an odd place to search for an answer to diplomatic or state travel complications. But, Americans, since Christianity had declined from 90% in the 1970s, to a mere 63% in the 2020s, the actual religion that the majority still believed in was romantic love. The most simple and somewhat true explanation (since U.G. and Stadel barely knew each other and were not in love), was that POTUS had met a translator working for the CIA, who had worked with the FBI and the Military, and brought her “boyfriend” to work in D.C. And because she was so busy, as POTUS, they decided that he would work in the East Wing, and live in the White House, so they would have time to get to know each other.

Would the American people accept this explanation? Now that there were two Cat-People, would the cat deniers who refused to see her as a Cat-Person see them now as what they were? 

And beyond the “church” of entertainment’s “religion” of romance, Stadel and U.G. were somewhat surprised that they shared the same religion. The Cat Religion was to study all religion (and all languages). It was surprising because Stadel’s people had been in the human dimension as a nomadic tribe since, as he put it, here before the old people who are now gone. And after meeting her he confessed that he was quite startled by her long fur. His people had a legend of the snow leopard tribe, but they had disappeared over 100 generations ago.

Stadel was much more religious than U.G. who was practically agnostic (like many contemporary Americans). Her private meditation was watching birds or fish. Very cat like of her, more than religious.

Monday to Friday, Stadel and U.G. would have breakfast together, unless they were fasting, as it’s not healthy for big cats to eat an American diet. And human food had always been a challenge. Then they would have water to be polite to the humans, most large cats never ate three meals a day, every day. Then he would depart to his desk to answer his mail/e-mail and other messages in the East Wing, and she would more often than not be headed to the Oval Office.

The QSO kept him very busy. People would just wake up in the middle of the night and write letters addressed to the Cat Stadel at the White House. They were intel, someone who needed help, often just a few lines about their cases, where they were, and how to find them, how to contact someone, they had lost, their Mother, their child, their Father, or siblings, etc… Sometimes is was less dire, a person trapped in a dead-end job who could help other people, be a social worker, in a job they had never even heard of, do some work in the environmental sciences, biology, robotics, or ergonomic energy design, etc… Stadel and QSO found and helped to relocate, several thousand people during the time Stadel the Cat-Man lived in the East Wing.

The Space Octopus worked tirelessly, one person at a time to tip the scales towards peace and saving life on planet Earth. QSO’s motivation was to save her own people from potential conflict with the humans when and if the Dog-People did eventually meet. Because the Dog-Planet, they were social and didn’t understand how dangerous the humans were, at all. And the food Lee had sent, … well, just morsels enough to wet their appetite and wake up their noses. Maybe, if it all went well, when they came to visit in a thousand plus years the humans of the little blue ocean scented planet could be the friends with the good-food that the Dog-People dreamed of.

And Stadel played along. He loved Lee’s memories of life on the Dog-Planet. When he would wake up with a night terror, or startled to hackles by a falling out of a tree type nightmare, the AI-C would comfort him. He had found a new family. A very strange family, not anything he ever had even imagined before, but their care for him was sincere.

U.G. had ordered an Oud that looked very close to the instrument he played in his mind, as a house warming gift. And they went to a music store and tried out some guitar slides for his damaged fretting paw. He settled on the soft sound of carved wooden finger-tips the AI-C whittled for him wrapped in his bandages. And the AI-Critter was happy to be the picking fingers, it seemed to find this fun actually. AI-C’s were very entertained by music as math meets sound.

Stadel would start and end his day playing music. Telepathically he told only her that, his people credited music as saving them from being hunted. There’s something about hunting and then finding what you thought was an animal, playing music. Music the universal language, all the songs he played were written to be calming, and pleasant to humans.

On the weekends they attempted to get outside in nature somewhere. With her presidential schedule this often didn’t happen, but she promised to take him hunting after her term was over. And he would just smile and say, don’t worry about it, I have hunted plenty in the youth of my life. I like having roast turkey, fish, and duck with you, prepared by the humans, it is just fine.

To practice his religion Stadel had somewhat accidentally formed a group. Not in the White House. On weekends when POTUS was not available for walks in nature.

Stadel playing the role as POTUS’s mysterious fiancé, would make an appointment with any religious leader at their: church, monastery, mosque, temple or synagogue.

The topic was always the same. Peace. Stadel would ask how to reduce suffering, and for their wisdom about how to find peace in the world.

They would pray or meditate or discus the topic of world peace from the point of view of their teachings. And then these religious leaders began to talk to each other, compare notes on what they had talked about with the Cat-Man Stadel.

Eventually, after New Years on the second year Stadel had been in America he introduced his religious study group in a speech, recorded in the small theater in the East Wing, where Stadel felt most at home, to introduce the formal but non secular and non government organization. He called it simply ‘For World Peace’ As those invited arrived he waited on stage, playing music until they all settled, quietly listening to him, waiting for an event that was technically scheduled to start 23 minutes ago.

He stood, bowed just a little as he set down the oud on a guitar stand. Then without even a second of pause, already having their attention, he started speaking.

“I have been shy of people for my entire life. Every day I wake here thankful to be a refugee immigrant in the care of the American people. As many have noticed, like your President, I am a Cat Person. I am here because I am a skilled translator. I don’t even know how many languages I speak because I don’t know how many languages my people studied and speak.” He paused. Closed his large yellow eyes then looked up again, back at them, past the cameras. “… spoke.”

I am here speaking to you today to form a think-tank, an organization to welcome leaders from all the world’s religions, to join, to discus one topic, peace. ‘For World Peace’ This is what I personally seek here with you today. America the melting pot. America the great experiment. ‘For world peace’ is not a government organization. Separation of church and state is very important. We must protect our prayers. Prayers are between our soul and the creator. This is what I believe. Even if you believe in science or nature and find religion to be not for you, anyway, you are welcome to listen too.

What is science if not religion? We believe in finding answers based on a theory, a hunch, faith that our shared reality might be provable. Our shared collective consciousness. We make tones and clicks with pauses, and I have a theory that the spirit of consciousness hears the music.

What are words? I say the word mountain, and the sound waves travel into the spiral of your ears and you imagine a mountain, and the mountain you see in your mind is energy carried how?

Is it a symbol of a mountain? Is it more than one mountain? What are numbers? What is family? What is home making? What is sport? What is dance and laughter? What is the creative arts if not an imitation of understanding all that is? With all of these, I have a faith, being in the moment, in the now, is prayer.

In closing, to answer many questions people have asked me. Why I am here is to work on finding lost persons. I first worked with the Marines, Army and the Navy in Egypt. As you may have guessed by my last name, my people did spend many generations in Egypt long ago. Later I met the FBI and worked with them, and I have also been here working with members of your CIA.

I believe no job is more important in this life than to be a parent. As any who have lived know, life is not fair, and my life has not been easy. Therefore to seek peace for myself, my job, the job I choose to do is to search for missing people, especially the innocent, children, and for the children, their mothers and fathers and siblings, or auntie or uncle if we can’t find the family. My days are in this way fulfilling.

I believe that respect for women is the key to world peace. And because the most important job in life is to be a parent, the second most important job is to be an educator. If all the world had fair and equal access to education, especially women, this is the way for humanity. And if in this life you can’t be a parent, and you are yourself not a teacher, then be a farmer.”

He smiled, several people chuckled. He closed his eyes when he smiled. But, seemed happy they got his joke. Granted most of the audience was his team of officers who had known him for years, some of their family, the President, some of her staff, quite a few religious leaders, and the press who had been invited or were working to film this announcement.

It was not really an ending, but he was done talking. He walked over to U.G. and gently kissed her on the cheek. He had never even thought about kissing her before. It was natural, since she was looking up at him with her big green cat eyes smiling.

And as they stood side by side, the press taking photos, his arm holding hers, she heard him thinking. “I’m really happy to be here in this moment with you.”

Story continues with episode 32 -- Meek Robots and Glass Libraries for the Future.