MISSION: SAVING THE WORLD

Chapter 8: The Gathering of Forces

That night, the worldwide conference call with those on the other side of the world began. At first, Feral ran up against disbelief and downright ridicule, not surprisingly since what he was telling them was totally unbelievable.

However, before some of them could hang up, he pulled out his ace. The call was being conducted on video phones, a new innovation that had caught on like wildfire all around the world. It was a good thing, since what they needed to cover now and later for future planning sessions, the video phones would allow them to conduct strategy meetings more quickly and with less chances of misunderstandings or loss of valuable time occurring.

Using this technology, Feral had his technician send images collected of the pod and his sick future self from the hospital. The sober images quickly put a stop to the doubting Thomas’ arguments and the meeting proceeded with everyone in a more grave mindset.

Some military leaders were appalled to learn this threat was real and nearly panicked. While others needed more assurances that everything that could be done was being pursued aggressively. More than a couple of hours were lost as Feral answered questions and reassured the more frightened of them that everything was being done to prevent this disaster and that their inputs were extremely important to the effort. This made the more reticent of them more willing to put themselves forward with whatever support they could provide.

Soon, he was finally able to redirect the meeting toward brainstorming. Since traditional methods of fighting a war of this type were useless, everyone began throwing out any non-traditional methods that were peculiar to their part of the world. No idea was too outlandish, so when Feral mentioned finding out more about magic and using that, no one thought it crazy. As a matter of fact, one of the leaders actually had something concrete on that very thing that made Feral’s heart jump with hope.

“Commander, after hearing what has been tried against this formidable enemy we are about to face and the fact that magic may not have been tried, I wish to offer the services of our conclave of wizards. They and their ancestors have been practitioners for hundreds of years. I’m certain they would be more than willing to work with you on finding a way for magic to be used as a weapon and a defense to protect our world,” the military leader, General Kylemar of the Tymurr Federation said ponderously.

Feral was almost at a loss for words. He had to quickly shake himself and jumped on the offer immediately. “Yes sir, we most definitely would want their input. Please urge their cooperation because it seems this is our only real hope,” he said strongly.

“I will convey that personally, Commander. As soon as we’re finished here, I will request an emergency meeting and get back with you immediately,” General Kylemar promised.

Sighing mentally, Feral made a note of the General’s offer and very soon brought the meeting to a conclusion. Just before they all disconnected for the night, all parties promised to send a representative to act as liaison between them and Megakat City.

No one argued that Feral should be the one in charge of what was being called, Mission: Saving the World. It was a heavy responsibility but no one else was qualified. However, Feral wouldn’t be handling it alone.

Every country would send their brightest problem solvers to Megakat City where they would be pooled together in a secured and guarded place, most likely the strategy room in the basement of Enforcer Headquarters. Their only responsibility would be to sift through all the data collected from scientists, inventors, genius’, wizards, military strategists and weapon designers and come up with the best options that had the most chance of succeeding against their enemy. Those options would be quickly disseminated to all the military leaders so they could be incorporated into their battle plans.

A lot of groundwork had been accomplished, much to Feral’s exhausted pleasure and relief. Before seeking his bed for some much needed sleep, he ordered Sgt Fallon to get the minutes typed up immediately and disseminated as fast as possible through secure means then get some rest himself.

Fallon took the minutes and saluted his superior briskly before hurrying off. Yawning hugely, Feral finally packed it in and stumbled off to his temporary quarters in the second tower of the massive enforcer building. Tomorrow morning would be his second conference call to the ones who lived closer.

‘That one should go faster when I send them the minutes of what already went on last night. Hopefully, I won’t lose as much time as I did tonight. Kat’s Alive! I’m soo tired,’ he thought groggily as the elevator dumped him at the floor where the connecting bridge was located. At this hour, there was no one around and his boot heels made a loud clack...clack sound on the tiled floor. Reaching the second tower, he took the elevator down two floors and decanted on a quiet, carpeted hallway. His room was at the end of the hall.

He sighed with relief as he walked in, locked the door behind him, then stripped his clothes off. Nearly too tired to shower, he did anyway to help him relax. Soon he was sliding between clean sheets and asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Earlier in the day.......

Razor raced through the city, passing through the main center and heading toward the farmlands beyond. The trip took nearly an hour before he finally reached a quiet farm house, several miles outside the city. He drove up the dirt drive until he reached the modest home.

The residents had heard him coming up their drive and were waiting for him on their wide porch. The SWAT Kat parked, set his alarm, then walked up to the four people waiting for him.

“Good day, Razor,” a tall, lean black and white tom said in greeting.

“Good day to you Byron. Thank you for being willing to see me,” Razor said politely.

“Please, come in and we’ll discuss what has brought you to us,” Byron said, gesturing for Razor to follow them into the house.

Inside the home, it was warm and inviting. A large stone fireplace was to the right of the entryway while the room was filled with comfortable couches and chairs covered with homemade knitted blankets.

“Please, have a seat. Would you like some warm or cold tea after your long ride?” A female calico asked warmly.

“Cold tea would be nice with some lemon and honey, please,” Razor told her. She nodded and left the room. The other three took seats and waited for her to return.

No one said anything but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. Razor used the time to compose what he wanted to say. He prayed he could convince them of the urgency of his request.

Moments later, the she-kat returned and handed him his drink then took a seat in a chair near him and waited patiently for him to slake his thirst.

“You may start when you are ready,” Byron told Razor quietly.

The SWAT Kat nodded then launched into an explanation about what had transpired over the last forty-eight hours. When he’d finished, he drank more of his tea to wet his now dry throat.

The four individuals traded grim looks. Byron turned his attention back to Razor. “We must discuss this in private. Please, rest and relax your mind. Your life is filled with great stress. Use this time to ease your spirit while we deliberate,” he said quietly then the group got up and disappeared into another part of the house.

Razor sighed and tried to do as Byron instructed. It wasn’t too hard. It was very quiet and peaceful here which is why he liked to visit them when he could. His mind drifted back to when he had met Byron and his people.

A year ago.......

He’d been driving blindly, full of anger and pain after an omega incident that had ended the life of someone he had just been getting to know in his Jake persona. Dark Kat had ended the lives of many as was his habit when he destroyed parts of the city on his mission to take over as leader. It had taken Razor more than a week to learn of the death of his friend.

Work hadn’t taken the grief away and so he’d decided to go for a ride but wanted one at high speed on the cyclotron so opted to go as Razor.

He’d not paid attention to where he had been going, only that he’d wanted to get away from the city and didn’t care about what direction he took away from the salvage yard. So now here he was driving down some lonely country road some twenty miles from the city limits. Homes were scattered widely apart, separated by fields of various grains for the farmers or the lands of the wealthy that had been left in their natural state.

The roads were paved so allowed him to speed down them at unheard of speeds for a street vehicle. Suddenly from a road hidden by high stalks of corn, a tractor lumbered out into the road. Razor had only seconds to react as he hit the button on his dash that kicked the rocket engines on and sent him flying over the startled Kat driving the tractor. He hit the ground some distance on, slowed down his speed significantly until he could turn around and return to the still stunned driver gaping at him.

He rolled to a stop beside the tractor. “Are you alright? I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said contritely.

The tractor driver took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You gave me quite a fright, young fellow. Might I ask what your hurry was?”

Razor blushed in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I was upset and was riding to cool off. That’s no excuse for not paying attention. Please accept my apology for nearly hitting you.”

The Kat stared down at Razor, assessing the SWAT Kat with a piercing gaze that unsettled the smaller tom.

Razor gave him the same once over. The farmer was about forty years old, tall, with a trim body, possessing a long dark beard with hair to match which was tied in a pony tail that stuck out from under an old floppy hat. He was a mix of black, gray, and white long fur, his face a black and white raccoon pattern. He wore the usual overalls that farmers chose to wear, a red tartan long sleeved shirt and heavy, thick boots on his feet.

“Apology accepted. How about you come to my home? That’s where I was headed before you exploded on the scene. I have a feeling we can help you de-stress, as it were. Your life is dangerous and it doesn’t bode well that you are this troubled. Please, come sit and have dinner with us, it may be the best decision you’ve made today,” he said coaxingly, his voice a soft tenor.

The cinnamon tom blinked in surprised shock and bewilderment. This Kat seemed to see right through him. Something within Razor told him there was more to this tom than met the eye and perhaps he should see what he was about.

He nodded slowly, “it’s not usually my habit to drop in on people I don’t know, however, I will accept. Perhaps you’re right. I could use some time with just ordinary people for once,” he said smiling shyly.

“Good, then follow me, if you please. I’ll happily help you stay within the speed limit,” the tom chuckled.

Razor couldn’t help but grin back then waited for the farmer to pull his tractor the rest of the way into the road. He followed at the snail pace the tractor kept, his mind trying to understand why he was doing this.

It took about fifteen minutes to travel only a mile to another driveway. This was not paved and wound its way like a lazy river toward a nice home, shaded by many trees. It had a huge wrap around porch and was two stories high and done in a subdued tan color with brick red shutters. He could see many out buildings towards the back of the house and this was where the farmer was headed with his tractor.

He paused near the house first, though and turned to Razor.

“You may park your bike here at the front of the house. I’ll just take this old thing to the barn and be right back to take you in.”

Razor nodded his understanding and pulled up near the neat, brick walkway that led up to the porch as the farmer trundled further on and out of view. The small tom shut off his bike and sat still for a moment. It was very peaceful here and quiet. All he heard was birds calling, cows mooing somewhere, and a dog barking in the distance. Maybe he should come out this way more often just to clear his head and get away from the noise and stress of the city.

As he was ruminated and enjoying the quiet, the farmer stepped quietly up to him. Razor blinked in surprise. It was often someone could get that close without him sensing or hearing them. His ears were unusually sharp, something that had saved his life countless times but here was this stranger moving as silently as the air itself.

“Sorry, I didn’t wish to disturb your meditation,” the farmer said with a small smile.

“I was just surprised you were able to walk up to me without me hearing you,” Razor said, more gruffly than he’d intended.

“Do not trouble yourself that you had not heard me. My people are.....a little different than the norm.....you would have had to be rather unusual yourself to have heard one of us,” the tom assured him.

Razor could only frown in confusion at that statement but before he could ask for an explanation, the farmer put a finger to his lips.

“All will be answered in due time my young friend. Please, come inside.” The farmer turned and made for the porch.

Still confused and not a little unnerved, Razor secured the cyclotron out of habit then followed the farmer into his home. It was the most unusual and scary visit of his young life. He learned he’d stumbled on a coven of witches who practiced the ways of nature for centuries. They lived a peaceful life; farming, making herbal cures for their neighbors for both animal and Kats, helped with the birthing of their animals, predicted the weather with a high degree of accuracy and used the planet’s own aura to do magic..... though, as Byron, the farmer he’d met, told him.....they had no real need to do much in the way of magic in this modern age.

He had been expected, he was told which had sent a chill up his spine.

“You and your partner will do great things for Kat kind but it is what will happen a year from now that will save a world.......our world from utter destruction,” Letera, one of the elders, told him solemnly.

“What kind of threat could do that? Dark Kat?” Razor asked anxiously.

“No, it will not be one of the omegas but a new enemy. Unfortunately, no more than that can I tell you. All I can tell you is to be alert to the unusual and keep your mind open to alternatives,” she said bluntly.

Razor didn’t like the sound of that but could get no more from them. He enjoyed a really nice dinner with them then, as dusk was falling, headed home. Over the next year, he would go see them on occasion but never stayed long and didn’t tell his partner more than the fact that he’d met some real witches. T-Bone had snorted at that but didn’t feel inclined to ask anymore questions about his friends ‘weird acquaintances.’

Until now that is.......he was brought back to the present when the elders returned to the room.

“This is what was foretold to you a year ago, Razor. We already know we will be part of a greater magical working with magic users from other countries. Commander Feral has had a heavy responsibility laid on his shoulders. Do as he commands. When he asks for us, simply call on us and we will be there,” Byron told him gravely.

“Thank you. Somehow, I knew this was what you meant when I first laid eyes on future Feral,” Razor said grimly. “I must get back to the city. Take this comm unit!” He handed it to Byron. “I will reach you on this.”

Byron nodded his understanding then saw Razor to the door. Minutes later, the SWAT Kat was roaring down the road toward home. He would speak with Feral tomorrow morning. For the first time since this nightmare had started, he felt a little more hopeful.