A Clowder of Cats

I run a shelter for cats from all realities. Many are strange or frightening, and my definition of ‘cat’ has deteriorated over the years.

I walked through the corridor, checking on the cats and making sure they were doing well. As I passed Old Tom’s cage, he opened one eye and looked me in the eye. “Did Tim Toldrum say when he’ll be swinging by?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Nah, mate, looks like he’s a no show again today.”

“Pity,” replied Old Tom and promptly closed his one eye and went back to napping.

I gave Ew'ah a quick once-over and found everything to my satisfaction. The Wampus Cat had its own specially reinforced cage to keep it from wrecking the place. They had told me that they were impossible to maintain but the secret to keeping them docile and compliant is simply the use of chocolate donuts. They can’t get enough of the stuff. Amazing. Mind you – if we ever run low on the donuts...

Ctesias the Manticore’s mange was clearing up nicely. Bob the splintercat’s leg was healing well. The fungal infection on the scales on the Mishipeshu was almost gone, a nice sign.

After about ten minutes or so, all the cats were carefully accounted for and their charts updated and I went to my desk to catch up on some paperwork.

***

I had just updated Blackie the Nekomata medical file (“tail gland hyperplasia responding well to benzoyl peroxide treatment”) when I heard a chirping from the area near my feet. A quick glance down showed Grimalkin, our resident orange goblin cat, resting comfortably on her haunches. Tucked in her collar was a slip of paper.

I raise an eyebrow in surprise and confusion.

The cat had come back with a note from about seventeen universes over. I pick her up and stare straight into her glassy eyes: “How?”

She just shrugged (an impressive thing to see on a cat) and licked my nose.

Even after 2,875 years, I still never fully understand the minds of some of our residents. I shrug as well (not quite as good as Miut but I try my best) and took the note.

It was written in a variation of Neo Middle Eblaite. I usually don’t have too much trouble reading that language other than the fact that the interrogative pronouns trip me up every now and then. I laid the note out on my desk and took a deep breath.

Hello Old Friend

I bring distressing news.

Adapa has perished.

You must prepare yourself.

Bako

I stared at the note in silence for a full minute, unable to process what I had just read.

Adapa dead? How? Why?

Adapa was an immortal, just like myself.

And if he is dead, then...

I took a long deep breath and slowly exhaled.

This is going to be a very bad day.

Back in the old days – that is, when Osorkon II was reigning – the only way I could do my job and contact the Powers-That-Be involved judicious amounts of prayers and incense and sometimes the occasional animal sacrifice. These days, it’s a lot more simpler.

I sent a text message to Shed.

Well, I might as well try them first, right? The whole ‘helper for those in need when state authority or the king's help is wanting’ shtick is definitely something I’m in need of right now. Granted, it’s been a few thousand years since anyone gave them any real amounts of worship but it was worth a shot, right?

A few minutes later, they responded.

Hey. What’s up?

Bad news. Adapa is dead.

Yeah. Found out about it myself just a while ago. Bad news indeed.

No kidding. What’s going on?

Wish I could tell you. Rest of us are playing catch-up with the news.

Someone hunting immortals?

Distinct possibility.

I’m going to need help here, then.

Wish I could. Alas, I can’t.

WHAT? Your name literally means ‘Saviour’! How can you not help?

There was a very long pause before Shed responded. I actually thought for a moment that I had lost connection. When they finally did, it was – not very helpful.

And more than a bit cryptic.

I’ve lost my powers. All of us have. The only immortal with any powers left is, well, you. You’re on your own now. Good luck.

And then the connection died.

***

I tried contacting a few of the other Powers-That-Be. Irer (literal translation of their name is “Sight”). Ptahhotep (was originally a mortal just like me; ended up in that weird gray zone of being sort-of-kind-of-maybe a minor deity, this one of wisdom). Even tried Amenhotep, son of Hapu (another mortal who ended up in that gray zone as well, this time of healing, which was a total long shot when it came to being useful in my current situation but, meh, why not).

No luck. None whatsoever.

I really am on my own now.

Shit.

I didn’t want this job, you know. ‘Keeper of Lost Cats’, that is. But it was a natural progression from my previous job. You spend thirty years as the high priest of the largest temple to the cat goddess Bastet in what you people call Egypt and then shuffle off this mortal coil while protecting a group of kittens from being killed and then have your actual goddess come to you just as you’re about to pass over to the afterlife and she asks you for a small ‘favour’ – well, what kind of answer did you expect me to say?

And don’t get me wrong; the job was nice. No, not nice; fantastic. Ask any cat lover if they’ll jump on the chance to spend eternity around cats. Go ahead – ask.

But – like any job – it gets a bit boring after a while.

And after nearly three thousand years...

***

I shook my head, breaking myself from the nostalgia.

I needed to get myself together. Find out what was going on. Find out how to stop it.

I may not have many powers – I’m an immortal, not a deity – but I do have one thing going for me.

Cats.

All cats slip easily between realities, but kittens born in the halfway spaces between realities always come out a different breed of feral.

And ‘Skulk’ was the most feral – and most talented – of them all.

A cross between the Cheshire cat, a Cath Palug, and a cat-sìth – Skulk was already imbued with some rather impressive powers. But add to that being born betwixt the BeforeandAfter and the PresentandFuture - well, she put every cat to shame. Yes, even Grimalkin. Although, to be fair, what Grimalkin had done was a fluke even for her.

Sleek and thin, with nearly all-black fur and blazing green eyes, Skulk cuts a stunning figure. Like all cats, she can be loving and caring one minute and moody and uncaring the next. Like all human slaves, we humans (immortal and otherwise) still love them regardless.

Skulk – using that preternatural ability that all cats possess to realize when they are suddenly the centre of attention – appeared with a soft pop near my feet.

“Hey,” I said said, smiling and reaching down to scratch her under the chin. “I need a big favour from you.”

Skulk shifted position slightly so that she can get maximum use from my scratches before responding. “What’s in it for me?” she asked, in the tone of all long-suffering assistants.

“New catnip toys, for one,” I replied, ticking my index finger. I started ticking the rest of my fingers. “New electric blanket. Treats five times a day instead of three. Bigger litter box. And that’s just for starters.”

Skulk pondered on this for a moment and then replied. “I find your terms acceptable. What do you need me to do.”

***

While Skulk was off doing her thing, I pondered on what my next options were.

To be blunt – there weren’t many. Pretty much everything was riding on Skulk at this point. If someone – something – was hunting deities and immortals and apparently succeeding, well, what the hell am I – an immortal who looks like a middle-aged civil servant who’s only real skill is being really good with cats – supposed to actually do?

I suppose I should be thankful; a lifespan of almost three millennium. That’s a pretty good run, all things considered. Most of the hours were pretty good too, overall. Mind you, some of the actual minutes – not so much. But I suppose that’s to be expected if you’ve been, essentially, the ultimate civil servant for 2,875 years.

I’m getting too old for this shit.

I cracked open a bottle of homemade mizr and just sat at my desk and did some paperwork.

It was three hours and two bottles later when Skulk came back.

She looked – rough. Like she had gone a few rounds with a Smilodon. I wasn’t too worried about her, though; Skulk’s mother ate and shat nails, and Skulk would fight a god for half a stale bagel and win. And yes, I’m being literal.

Still – she looked bad.

Skulk crawled slowly towards me, jumped on my lap and went into Cat Loaf mode. I reciprocated by giving her a handful of treats and giving her ample scratches. After a few minutes, she rolled over on her back.

“Ok, you want the good news, the bad news, or the really bad news first?”

I let out a long sigh.

“I need a pick-me-up at the end. Let’s go with the really bad news first.”

“Ok. So I travelled to eighteen different universes and consulted contacts that have about twenty-seven additional universes under their belt between them. It’s system-wide. Not just your old pantheon but everyone else; Sumerians, Babylonians, Hittites, Gupta, Hans, Sarmatians – you name it. They’re all either already gone or in the process of going.”

I stared in shock at Skulk for a whole moment, completely speechless. When I did find my voice, I was only able to croak out a “That’s bad.”

“Tell me about it,” replied Skulk, taking a moment to munch on a few more treats.

“What’s the bad news?”

“Only nine of the known twelve immortals are actually dead.”

Well, no guesses on who one of those immortals are. “Which two are still alive?”

“Buttadeus, for one, but he’s in hiding, more so than usual. The other is, well, the Leviathan, but I don’t think you can count on it helping you anytime soon.”

“So – I am, technically, on my own?”

“Afraid so, mate.”

“What’s the good news?”

“I found out who’s behind everything.”

“Who?!”

Skulk chose this moment to lick her paw before sitting on her haunches and facing me directly.

“Gilgamesh.”

***

“You’re kidding,” I said, after I had a minute to process what had just been said.

“Nope,” came Skulk’s reply, as she licked another paw. “Double-checked it and then checked it again just to be sure.” She stopped her grooming to fix me with an emerald stare. “Gilgamesh is the one who started all this.”

“Why?”

Skulk shrugged and laid down, back in Cat Loaf mode. “Beats me. I suspect he’s had second thoughts on failing to get immortality last time.”

“Five thousand years is a long time to hold a grudge,” I pointed out.

Skulk shrugged again. “Hey, I’m not a human, so can’t give you any more advice.”

“Any ideas where I can find him?”

Skulk whipped her head up and stared at me in shock. “Hang on. You’re not running away, are you?”

“I am not a smart man.”

“And what do you plan to do once you meet Gilgamesh?”

“I might as well go down fighting, right?”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard a human say and I’ve already gone through six of my nine lives.”

“Like I said; I am not a smart man. Can you help me find him?”

“Yes, but I still think you’re stupid.”

“Then why are you helping me?”

“Cause no matter what happens, this is going to give me enough laughs to last the next three lives.”

“That’s such a cat thing to think.”

“I gotta be me.”

***

Skulk’s powers when it comes to flitting through the universes are difficult to describe to non-feline individuals. It’s not like Skulk – or for that matter, cats in general – need to speak a Word or cast a Ritual or whatever to do their reality walking. They just think it and the action occurs.

But how it looks to non-felines is impossible. It’s like trying to explain the colour ultraviolet to a human. Your senses just are not capable of processing the information.

So when I grasped Skulk’s collar as she did her thing and we jumped through the realities, the best – and only way – I can describe the experience is ‘swirly-twirly-psychedelic-skydiving through Northern Lights while stoned’ thingy.

It was pretty awesome, although.

***

Skulk and I appeared in a pile of camel shit right next to a stinky marsh.

Brought back so many memories.

I got out of the pile and looked around.

River, warm weather, mosquitoes, and – off in the distance – a big pyramid.

Wow – I’m home?

“No,” said Skulk, off my look. “We’re actually near the juncture of the Tigris and Euphrates rivers. The capital city of Qurnah, to be precise. That pyramid over there is the Ziggurat of Gilgamesh, God-King of the Neo-Sumerian Imperium.”

“Over compensating a bit?”

“The ziggurat is over a thousand feet high, so I’m guessing that’s a yes.”

“And our guy is up there now?”

“Last I heard.”

“Then we better get busy.”

“Sorry? What do you mean ‘we’? I brought you here; I ain’t sticking around.”

“Thought you wanted to see me fail?”

“I can do so in the comfort of my new electric blanket back home. Toodles.”

And with that, Skulk vanished with a pop.

You would think that Gilgamesh, God-King of the Neo-Sumerian Imperium, would have heard of fucking elevators? Ziggurat the height of the Empire State Building – and the fucker has just stairs to get to the top.

I shrugged my shoulders and started climbing.

Ok, I’m just gonna sit here...for...a minute...catch my breath...

Man, there’s an hour of my life I’m never going to get back...

***

Gotta give Gilgamesh his due; the view from up here is amazing. But I’ve got work to do, so I tore my gaze from the view and walked towards the ornate temple that was on the very top of the place. I was a bit weirded out by the fact that the place had no worshippers or priests or guards around, either on the walk to the place or the hike up the stairs or in or around the temple complex on top.

Now that could mean one of two things: either Gilgamesh had taken his God-hood to next level “I want to be alone” stuff or he had killed everyone around him. Either way – that’s bad news.

With a shrug and a half-muttered ‘Eh-what the hell’ under my breath, I walked into the temple.

Gilgamesh was there, on a big-ass actual thrice-gods-damn golden throne, doing the patented Slouch of Villainy. You know the one – leg draped over one armrest, hand resting under their chin, drink in their other hand, having that look that’s supposed to broadcast I’m Too Cool and Bored for This but I’ve always seen as I’m Actually Mildly Constipated. He perked up the minute I walked in and literally jumped off his throne, bouncing with glee.

“Kheti! About time you showed up!”

“Surprised you know my name,” I replied. And yes, I actually was surprised. Surprised on multiple levels, in fact,

One being the fact that he actually knew me. I’m not exactly what you call an ‘extrovert’. And while I occasionally bitch about my job, I actually do take my job seriously. And I’ve learned the hard way to avoid anything resembling ‘Drama’ – the thing with Sun Wukong and Laozi's crucible being partially my fault, for example - so all that adds up to me being, well, dull, I suppose.

Second being the fact that I was genuinely surprised to see that it really was Gilgamesh. I mean, ok, Skulk is rarely wrong but still. A part of me was holding out that it wasn’t him. That it was some shapeshifter or whatever. Gods know we have had quite a few of those around in the last few thousand years.

But nope – this was the real deal. Shapeshifting only works on mortals. Fringe benefit of being immortal. Yay us. Or rather, yay me now.

I tilted my head to one side, still a bit confused. “Hey man, didn’t you go on a big journey seeking immortality only to learn that it’s more trouble than it’s worth. There’s, like, a whole epic written about it and everything.”

Gilgamesh shrugged and smirked. “What, a guy isn’t allowed to change his mind?”

“Still, after – what? - five thousand years? You change your mind now?”

Big shrug from Gilgamesh. “Better late than never.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “So, what are you doing here? Come to surrender?”

I actually let out a laugh. “Nah, man – I’ve come to fight you.”

It was Gilgamesh’s turn to laugh. “You serious? You? Fight me?” He tilted his head to one side, a weird half-smile on it. “I’ve fought monsters of all kinds. I fought and beat the actual Bull of Heaven. You have any idea how much trouble it’ll be to turn you into a smear on the wall?”

“None whatsoever,” I replied.

“Then why fight?”

“Why are you killing all the immortals? Why are you going after all the deities? Why are you doing all this in the first place?”

Gilgamesh defiantly placed his fists on his hips. “Revenge. Pay-back. Clearing out the competition. Sowing discord and paranoia. And just for the shits and giggles.”

“Busy.”

“And now we circle back to why are you here.”

I threw up my hands. “Told you – I’m here to fight you. Somebody’s gotta stop you and that someone is me.”

Gilgamesh threw up his hand up as well. Even put in an eye-roll. “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this.” He lowered his hands and smiled. “You know – I always like you. You got immortality just because you liked cats. It’s – as the kids say – really cool.”

“Like me enough not to kill me, though?”

The smile vanished instantly. The hands balled into fists. “No.”

We were about forty or so cubits apart. Gilgamesh covered that in the time for his “No” to still be echoing around the temple. And then his fist hit me right in the face.

Things went very, very, very dark at that point.

***

“Yo, wakey wakey,” said a voice in the darkness. It took a while but I managed to open my eyes. It took considerably longer for my brain to process where I was, what was going on, and what was presumably going to happen soon. In order of appearance:

I was hanging naked on a giant star shaped construct of bronze, gold, and silver.

Gilgamesh was standing nearby, big scary knife in hand, and looking up at me with the kind of smile that would make even serial killers go ‘ok, that’s just a bit creepy’.

And it was very dark. A quick glance up confirmed what I suspected. Yup; early stages of a solar eclipse.

Damn Sumerian semi-deities; why must they be so dramatic?

“Let me guess,” I said, trying hard to figure out what my escape plans could be and ending up with nothing. “I’m one of the last immortals, so you’re going to sacrifice me in some kind of unholy and possibly demonic ritual, and you’re going to end up as some of all-powerful god so you can destroy the universe or something as a result, right?”

“I gotta be me,” replied Gilgamesh.

“Can I ask you a quick question first?”

“Knock yourself out.”

“Why? Why do all this? What’s the point? You were already three-quarters divine --”

“- two-thirds, actually -”

“- two-thirds divine, had a whole epic named after you, and have all kinds of powers. What’s the point?”

That actually gave him pause. For a moment – just for a moment – the facade fell and I saw the real Gilgamesh.

“I’m tired. I’m fed up. I’m angry. I’m depressed. I went on a grand quest for immortality, failed to do so, resigned myself to living myself in exile in the nether regions until the time came for me to finally die – and then I saw all these idiots that did get immortality squandering it. Squandering it! Petty arguments over relationships. Petty fights. Petty issues. Pulling back from the affairs of mortals and not even bothering to do anything remotely useful with their time.” He looked at me, a weird smile on his face that was almost – pleasant? “You? You were given a task to do and you went all in on it. It was a dumb task but it was a useful and – dare I say – fulfilling task, yes?”

I pondered on this for a bit before answering. “You know, you’re right. It was. I got a bit weird there during the last five centuries or so but – yeah, it was actually...fun.” I frowned and I got a wave of depression and sadness wash over me. Gilgamesh noticed it as well.

“What’s wrong? Why so sad? Well, other than the fact that you’re going to die in a few minutes?”

I shrugged. “Nobody left to take care of the cats.”

“Pity,” said Gilgamesh, as he raised the knife and walked towards me.

“Yo asshole!” came a loud and high-pitched shout from behind Gilgamesh. I looked over – and gasped. Then I smiled.

Then I started laughing.

At the entranceway of the temple, in all of her ten pound glory, was Skulk.

And behind her were about three dozen cats – including Ew'ah the Wampus Cat.

Gilgamesh had just enough time to whisper a quiet ‘shit’ when the cats attacked.

***

“You came back!” I shouted, as I was helped off the sacrificial altar. I paused to give the cats another round of scratches and pats.

“Yeah, don’t be too impressed,” said Skulk. “I only came back with the gang because without you we don’t have anyone to give us treats.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I mean, it’s not like we, you know, actually love you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Or even like you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So don’t get any funny ideas that we risked our lives because of you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And it’s not like the other cats actually like you or appreciate you or care about you or anything like that.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And stop saying ‘uh-huh’.”

“Uh-huh,” I replied, smile still plastered on my face, I looked around. “What happened to Gilgamesh? Things got a bit confusing when he got hit by Anky’s ball-tail and I lost sight of him.”

Skulk shrugged. “To be honest, not sure myself. Between the blood, the lightning, the thunder, and the flying spikes, things got a bit confusing on my end as well. He’s gone, and gone for a good long while, so that’s all that matters.”

Ctesias came by with some of my clothes. As I put them on, a thought that had been niggling at the back of my head finally wiggled loose. “Hey, I thought you could only teleport one creature at a time whenever you do your reality walking. How did you manage a few dozen?”

Skulk gave me the patented Cat Glare that all cats possess whenever their human slave does or says something stupid.

“You thought wrong,” she said. “I prefer to do only one creature at a time. Big difference.”

“Uh-huh. Thanks again. You up to jumping us back home now?”

Skulk let out a long sigh. “Yeah, sure. But just give me a minute. I’m...a bit tired.”

***

The ‘gang’ gathered together and Skulk did her thing.

I immediately noticed something was...different. I’ve only done the reality walking with Skulk a handful of times but this was immediately weird and unusual. No psychedelic stuff. No falling-through-auroras stuff. This was just ...whoosh.

I appeared in a big empty white void.

And then it wasn’t empty.

I blinked in shock, half-convinced that I was dead or hallucinating.

Bastet – fifty feet high – was in all her Cat Goddess glory.

And then – she spoke with the sound of thunder.

KHETI. YOU ARE LOOKING WELL.

“Thank you,” I croaked.

I APOLOGIZE FOR NEGLECTING YOU.

I blinked. Bastet was apologizing to me?

“Did I do good? Did I make you happy?”

YOU HAVE DONE WELL.

“Thank you,” I replied. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes.

I HAVE ONE QUESTION TO ASK YOU.

“Name it!”

WERE YOU HAPPY?

I stood there dumbfounded, unable to speak.

SHALL I REPEAT THE QUESTION?

“That’s...a difficult question to answer.”

Bastet smiled and shrank down to a mere six feet high.

I suppose it is

I pondered on this question for a while, Bastet standing there patiently while I did so.

“Yes. The answer is – yes. I was very happy.”

But...?

Yeah, there’s no fooling deities.

“I wanted to do something...different, I suppose.”

???

“I wish I could articulate more than that but I can’t.”

Bastet smiled again.

I understand. I really do.

She moved a bit closer to me.

The time of the old has come and gone, my dear Kheti. It’s time for new deities and immortals to take the place of the old ones. I would be leaving soon. But you deserve a reward for your services. And I have made arrangements to make sure that your fondest wish is granted.

She was now just a few paces away from me.

What is your fondest wish?

I thought long and hard.

And after what seemed like an eternity – I finally made my choice.

***

I run a shelter for cats from all realities. Many are strange or frightening, and my definition of ‘cat’ has deteriorated over the years.

My name is Kheti.

I am the new God of cats.

And I am very happy.