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| 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.
