Chapter 25 of Signal in the Sky
Science of Silence
By Purrsia Kat & Spaced Angel
It had been a long day. In fact, if Snarf was honest, the last few weeks
had been long too. They consisted of days that dragged on forever with endless
things to do on a list that never seemed to get any shorter. He was used to
hard times, but his life recently had been particularly trying. Snarf continued
through the halls of the Lair, pondering all the recent turmoil.
First there was the Feliner, which to his way of thinking had taken up
too much of everyone's time lately. He had known from the first it was going to
be trouble. Hearing that it had crashed with Lion-O, Felina and Panthro aboard
had given him a few more white hairs and shaved days off his life.
How thoughtless Lion-O could be sometimes, taking unnecessary risks like
that! Tygra had warned him, Panthro had warned him and still he had gone on
that wretched ship’s maiden voyage. Everyone knew that’s when things were most
likely to go wrong. Most of all, he should have listened to old Snarf and
stayed home where it was safe. Lion-O certainly would be no help to the missing
Thunderians dead, but of course, good old-fashioned logic like that always
seemed a wasted effort on Lion-O. The boy was going to put Snarf in an early
grave if he kept it up, no matter that things turned out well this time. Snarf
was certain Lion-O would keep pushing his luck until something bad and
irreversible did happen. And this was the day Snarf dreaded most.
He could forgive Lion-O anything of course, but just sometimes he wished
that boy wouldn't play fast and loose with his life and everyone else's, as
though he imagined he was invincible. Thundera's history was littered with former
leaders who had suffered under that same delusion. Their reigns had been brief.
Snarf prayed that Lion-O would get wise sometime soon before his name was also
added to that infamous list and he went down in history as the nursemaid who
had failed to protect his headstrong charge. Snarf had his work cut out for him
doubly, given Lion-O was so inexperienced. He had the mind of a boy but the
pride of a man, which drove Snarf mad at times.
Then there was that other matter. That something was going on with
Lion-O and Felina was the universal conclusion about the Lair. Outwardly, the
pair seemed to be getting along again; they appeared amicable, even able to
share the same space without creating too much of a stir. Everyone agreed it
was an improvement. The atmosphere was less fraught and there wasn't the same
feeling of sitting on the edge of a bubbling volcano waiting for the next
explosion. It was better, except no one was convinced that it was real, least
of all Snarf.
It was too polished a performance. They put on a good show, but just
occasionally the facade would show cracks. He would catch Felina staring at
Lion-O with a wistful look in her eyes, only to quickly avert her gaze should
he glance in her direction. Lion-O too seemed more thoughtful lately and was
given to falling into introspective moods where he lost all sense of time and
place. It could happen anywhere, but most frequently Snarf found him in his
bedroom, lost in thought by the window or bed. He would snap out of it the
minute Snarf called his name and the forced smile and mask would go up amid
claims that everything was all right.
He was too poor a liar to
convince an old hand at this game. Snarf longed to ask him about the problems
that he knew kept Lion-O awake at night, but always resisted. The gesture would
not be appreciated, he guessed. After all, Lion-O was no longer the cub he had
bounced on his knee, but a married Lord of the Thundercats, and as such, Snarf
begrudgingly supposed, would have to work out his own problems. Or at the very
least, Snarf would have to keep mum unless he was asked for advice. It was
difficult at times.
Still, Snarf told himself that age did not stop him being concerned and
Lion-O concerned him on many levels. The sleeping arrangements for a start were
to his mind unsatisfactory. He hadn't liked to ask why Lion-O and Felina had
stopped sharing a bedroom and were sleeping alone again. They made no secret of
it and had jokingly said that it was because Lion-O snored and Felina couldn't
get a wink of sleep when questioned. He had his suspicions given the cracks in
the veneer he’d noticed, but kept his mouth shut for once. The last thing he
wanted was to be labelled an interfering busybody again.
But someone eventually was going to have say something, if what he
suspected were true. Everyone had noticed that Felina was out of sorts in a way
that had nothing to do with Lion-O, although he wondered if the others had the
same hunch he did. Something was wrong with her appetite for one thing. Snarf
was one to notice these things, and what was strangest was her sudden aversion
to foods she used to love – sometimes she even seemed as though the mere scent
of them cooking in his kitchen would make her wretch. At the same time, she’d
requested some things he’d never known her to eat much of if at all before, and
she’d consume them in large quantities as though she were fixated on it. Not
that it was necessarily an odd combination of foods, but rather, an interesting
choice for her. Again, he was sharp and he noticed these things. He also might
be offended by the aversions if he didn’t suspect what he did.
Besides food quirks, there were the mood swings and the tiredness of
which she often complained. By mid-morning she was yawning and more than once
he had gone up to her room to find her sound asleep with her books scattered
around her at all times of the day. Even when she was awake, an aura of
lethargy hung about her that she seemed unable to shake. It would have been
worrying if he hadn't recognised the symptoms. An official announcement about
the impending birth of the next Lord of the Thundercats couldn't be too far
away and then old Snarf would be needed again. He had to be honest the idea
caused quite a stir of excitement within him, so much so that he was careful to
consider whether it was just wishful thinking or truly his astute observations
of changes in her health that alerted him.
He hadn't realised quite how much he had missed his role until Velouria
was born. Up till that day, it was as though he had been treading water, idling
away his time with washing, cleaning and cooking just to fill the void left by
the abrupt ending of his duties as Lion-O's nursemaid. He had never admitted
it, but it had been a wrench. When that accursed suspension capsule had opened
and he had been confronted with an aged version of his charge, his feelings had
been mixed. Pleased, yes, that Lion-O had survived. Proud that he had become
the Lord of the Thundercats he had always known he would be one day. But sad
too and somehow cheated. He had imagined that he would have more years and more
time to adjust to the day when Lion-O would no longer need him. Cubs grew up
fast, this he already knew, but that – that had just been ridiculous! The
severing of the bond so abruptly was difficult to take. He had gone to sleep
needed, with Lion-O as his whole world, and awoken to find himself devoid of
purpose. He had grieved without knowing it, for the years that Lion-O had
snatched from him and for himself, for the charge he had lost.
Then little Velouria came into his life. She was a blessing for them
all. Cheetara and Tygra were more than pleased of his help and he was happy to
devote as much time as he had to the child. It wasn't quite like Lion-O all
over again; after his birth, Snarf had been placed pretty much in sole charge
of his upbringing, which was traditional for the busy Lord’s clan. His role
intensified when Lion-O’s mother was lost, and then later leaving the aged and
blinded Claudis to struggle as the sole parent. Snarf had been out to prove he
was more than up to the challenge and extra burden.
This time, he had had to learn a new role, as a support to her parents
rather than giving the orders. It had been difficult not to interfere too much
at first and he had gradually learned his place in this new pecking order. To
some extent, it suited him to take a back seat for a change and defer ultimate
responsibility to her parents. In these past months, he had found joy in just
being with Velouria and watching her grow up without pressure on his shoulders
as to how she was turning out. It was a role he cherished and one he
capitalised on whenever he could.
Just like now in fact. He had heard Cheetara saying earlier that she was
tired and he immediately offered to take Velouria off her hands for the
evening. She had been immensely grateful and he had been only too happy to
oblige. So tonight, it would just be Velouria and him, with candy fruit splodge
to share and a book about the mystical snarfs who lived in Thundera's forests.
It promised to be an enjoyable evening for all.
Passing Felina's door, however, he was disconcerted to hear the sound of
someone retching. He tapped on her door and after a few moments, Felina
appeared looking worse for wear. She rested her head on the arm she was using
to support herself against the doorframe and asked what he wanted in a voice
that sounded weak and ill.
"Weeow, are you all right?" he inquired with concern.
"Have you been sick again?"
She nodded.
"That doesn't sound right to me," he went on. "That's the
fifth time in as many days to my knowledge. You should let Tygra have a look at
you."
"No," she said quickly. "I mean it's nothing. I'm all
right. It will pass."
"I don't think it will, Felina. At least, not for several
months."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “What are you implying?”
“You might forget that I’ve served the nobles of Thundera for decades,
and I know the tell-tale signs that a cub is on the way.”
Her head jerked up at that. "No, you’re wrong," she insisted.
"Besides, Cheetara never got sick with Velouria. Being sick means nothing,
other than it’s something I ate."
Snarf bristled at the implication, and decided not to point out that not
everyone does get sick when expecting so her rationale was thin at best.
"Brrr, there's nothing wrong with my cooking."
He had to seriously wonder why Felina was so bent on not even
considering this possibility. He would have thought if she were in this
condition, it was something she and Lion-O had both wanted. After all, it was
fairly easy for a Thunderian female to avoid an unwanted predicament if only
they paid heed to their most fertile times. True, the two of them had been
sleeping apart for a time, but even so, it took time for these symptoms to show
and allowing for that, the timing was perfect.
"A flu bug or something then. I'm going to bed." She turned to
disappear back into the dark confines of her bedroom.
He eyed her critically, not believing one word of it. It wasn’t just her
retching, but all the other little clues that added up which convinced him she
was expecting. Her denial was baffling, but he decided he’d play along for now.
"I see. Well, if you need anything, you just give old Snarf a call
and I'll come running."
After a few mumbled words of gratitude, she retreated back into her room
and closed the door on him. Just a flu bug indeed, he thought to himself.
Still, it wasn't his place to pry. The couple would make the announcement when
they were good and ready.
As he continued on his way down the corridor, another thought struck
him.
Perhaps the couple's odd relationship of late had something to do with
her condition. Felina certainly seemed to be having problems coming to terms
with it and he could only imagine what Lion-O must be feeling. If they did know,
then they were playing it very cool. There again, Felina was very young and he
wondered if she knew what was really happening to her. Either way, he resolved
to have a quiet word with Tygra about it.
No sooner had she closed the door on the outside world than her own
surroundings began that dizzying, stomach-churning dance that made her head
swim. Felina leant against the door and closed her eyes, willing the rising
nausea away. Now, as before, it would not be denied.
She only just made it to the bathroom and emptied what was left of the
meagre dinner she had managed to get down earlier into the toilet bowl. Sick
until only dry retches were left to strain her burning throat, she reached a
trembling hand to the chain and flushed the rancid smelling mess away. That
done, she lay upon her back on the cool surface of the tile floor and allowed
herself a few self-indulgent tears.
When the sickness first started, it had come on gradually and limited
itself to the mornings, when she could hide away from breakfast and appear
later without arousing suspicion. Lately however, it was plaguing her at any
time of the day or night. It could strike without warning, prompted by a smell
or the sight of dinner, even if such foods had been long-beloved favorites –
for some reason those dishes no longer appealed to her palette and her stomach
had an unkind way of letting her know it if she indulged herself anyway. Just
the thought of food had provoked it this time and she had spent the better part
of half an hour bent over the toilet bowl.
So now she was crying, not because her stomach hurt or because she was
ill and alone, but because of the possible implications. If she was pregnant -
and even Snarf had come to the same conclusion - then it had happened at the worst
possible time.
She wondered why she was so surprised really. It was just her luck.
Felina pondered how out of her mind she had been to ever agree with Lion-O to
try to start a family, hindsight notwithstanding. She was scared and miserable
even without the added stress of his essentially dumping her but weeks prior.
Of course, he probably never dreamed the attempt would be successful on the
first try, but that didn’t make it any less reassuring. The idea of having a
baby with him had seemed so romantic and bonding at the time, but the reality
simply paled by comparison. She’d never felt so ill prepared for something in
all her life.
Even in her darkest hours, however, she had never dreamed it would come
to this. They had not had the best of starts, but she had never expected Lion-O
to drop a bombshell like that. The finality of his decision struck her the
most. She had pleaded with him, got down on her knees even, and he would not be
moved.
Worst of all, he had added to her misery by finally admitting that he
had loved her. If only he had said that once in the present tense, it might
have made a difference. But he never had. Only when he had decided that the
relationship was over was he ready to admit to his true feelings. Even if she
shouldn’t have had to hear it and just had seen his efforts as shows of his
affection, it didn’t stop her heart from breaking.
It was far easier for her to be angry with him once more than worry
about her role in the mess – a complete turn-around from how she’d felt immediately
post-breakup. It still felt like she’d been punished for uttering one word, no
matter what he’d tried to say about it being a series of events that led to
their estrangement. Everything they’d been through could be worked on, she
felt. But he was content to just throw in the towel and quit. It still shocked
her after this much time had passed to think of it. In fact, the more she
thought about it, the more humiliated she felt. The humiliation made
considering a pregnancy at time add insult to injury.
How selfish he had been! He wanted to end it. He wanted
them to remain friends. Now that she thought about it, she didn't recall much
mention of what she wanted in his self-righteous little speech. And his
patronising tone of voice when he had told her it was for the best and that one
day she would see that too had been galling. He had spoken to her as though she
was a child. Now if she were with child, what was he going to do about that?
Not much, if she knew him. She was sure he'd try to stand by her, but it
would be out of duty rather than any sense of love. His pity wasn't what she
wanted. If they got back together at all, it wouldn't be because of a baby.
Yes, she’d once hoped a child would bring them closer together, but she didn’t
want it being the only thing keeping them together. He had to want to
come back on his own accord. Until then, she would manage on her own, just as
she always did. So let Snarf go tell Lion-O what’s going on. Felina was
determined not to let him break her heart all over again. She’d already asked
for one more chance and got rejected. She wasn’t going to cling to him now that
she might be having a baby. That would just be pathetic. She had her pride,
too!
At least one person didn’t judge her. She’d been to the
Felina had enough of lying there wallowing in her sorrows, sat up, and
dried her tears. She wanted to be strong, but the resolve and the execution were
often separate struggles. The prospect was almost too daunting for words and
she pushed it to the back of her mind.
This was Snarf's fault, putting silly ideas about babies in her head.
What did he know? So what if she was tired? The other Thundercats were equally
exhausted. The last few weeks had been difficult on all of them. As for the
sickness, nowhere had she read that pregnancy made a person sick all day. It
was called morning sickness for a reason, after all. And it took more than a
few couplings to be successful. From what she'd heard, it took some people
years to have children. Cheetara and Tygra were perfect examples of that.
Whatever it was making her sick it couldn't possibly be because she was
pregnant.
Feeling a little better at that thought, she got to her feet and left
the bathroom. Wandering through her book-littered room, she revelled in a
certain sense of liberation at seeing her things left exactly where she wanted
them. Back in her own room with her own space, she could study as much and
whenever she liked and leave her things scattered about the room without having
Lion-O moaning about it.
True, she used to be a lot neater. She used to be a lot of things, but
either way, she’d convinced herself that the bad with Lion-O outweighed the
good. She ignored the nagging voice that asked her why then, was her heart
broken, if he were really so insufferable? Why did she reach for him in the
middle of the night? Why did she find herself staring at him with sorrowful
longing? Why couldn’t she stop thinking about that last fateful joining before
her embarrassing slip, where her desire for him had never been stronger and his
touch had never before so electrified her senses? And why did it hurt her so
bad to realize she may never know him like that again?
“He’s a stupid cur, that’s why,” she muttered crossly at her own nagging
conscience, feeling immediately bad for the harshness of the barb even as she
was booting a small tome across the floor for emphasis.
Her emotions were up and down and all over the place lately, like she
was stuck on a wild ride that never ended – with the nausea to match. She was
fit to blame her marital troubles for much of that, if not Snarf’s cooking or a
flu bug, like she’d said.
As for those silly thoughts of being pregnant, she could only laugh at
how stupid she'd been to worry herself silly over nothing. Whatever she had
would soon pass and she'd be herself again. Free to get on with her life and
forget about him. He wanted a marriage in name only, and that’s exactly what
she would give him seems how her efforts to show some maturity and grace had
gotten her nowhere with him in the past weeks.
Determined not to waste another minute locked in the bedroom, she opened
her door and peeped out. Snarf had gone, which was something of a relief, but
further down the corridor, she could see Tygra approaching. Avoiding him was
becoming increasingly difficult now that the repairs on the Feliner were nearly
complete and her excuses were becoming less and less plausible. He would accept
her reasons for putting off another lesson, but she could tell that he was
perplexed and a little hurt by this behaviour. But how could she ever tell him
the truth?
She inwardly groaned for no matter how she tried to delve into any of
the serious matters she should be concerned about instead, some ugly bit of
drama was intertwined in it all. There was just no getting away from it, and
that, she thought, was the source of her fatigue. Dealing with it all was
finally getting to her.
With another awkward situation at hand, she considered hurrying quickly
in the other direction before he saw her and she were forced to lie again. For
once, however, the sickness made itself useful. Another wave of nausea abruptly
soured her stomach and brought bile into her mouth. Scrambling back into her
room, she cursed Snarf's cooking and vowed never to be tempted by his candy
fruit pie again.
Tygra frowned when he saw Felina look out of her room, only to vanish
back inside a second later. He was sure she'd seen him and even more certain
that she was avoiding him. He'd racked his brains till his head hurt for a
reason. Had he done or said something to make her feel uncomfortable in his
presence? He didn't think so. Unless she told him, however, he was never going
to know. When she was ready, he supposed she'd explain. Until then, it was
another mystery along with many others that occupied his waking hours.
For now, he was too tired to give it any further thought. All he wanted
was to fall into bed and sleep until dawn. Finally he could with a clear
conscience. The Feliner was almost ready to take to the skies again and this
time with more success than on her maiden flight. It had taken a bit longer
than Panthro had estimated initially to do it right and proper, but he thought,
it would be worth it. They had systematically rooted out every last glitch and
she was ready to tackle whatever Third Earth threw at them, providing she
didn't run out of fuel. That was always going to be a problem, given their
precarious supply difficulties. Hope was on the horizon, however, and he had
already consulted Panthro about investigating the possible sites for
Thundrillium the Feliner had discovered. Lion-O was all for going without
delay, but he had advised caution. They were all tired and needed a rest.
Rushing into a Mutant trap unprepared would do them no favours.
The lure of bed was almost impossible to resist and only the low murmur
of a voice coming from the nursery made him pause. On impulse, he opened the
door, expecting to see Cheetara, only to find Snarf instead. The nursemaid
looked up at his entrance and gestured to him to enter.
"Hi, Snarf," he said. "I didn't mean to disturb
you."
Snarf smiled contentedly. "You didn't."
He indicated the sleeping child in the crib and Tygra wandered over to
gaze down at his daughter. She looked so small and vulnerable, lying amidst a
scattering of sheets and toys, and he had to fight the impulse to pick her up
and disturb her. Not that she would mind. She was a happy baby and an unusually
quiet one at that. Growing up in an extended family, his early memories were
filled with the sounds of babies crying and wailing. There had been times when
it had been so unbearable he had had to put a pillow over his head and beg for
them to stop. Velouria was the exact opposite, due no doubt to the calming
influence of her mother, he supposed. She hardly ever made a sound and when she
did, it was a muted gurgle. Only her expression would give him any indication
of her true mood. At this moment, she looked peaceful enough. Snarf, however,
had a worried crease across his brow as he too watched her silent slumbers.
"Is everything all right?" Tygra asked.
Snarf shook himself out of his thoughts. "Oh, yes. She's
fine."
"Good. Where's Cheetara? I expected to find her here."
"I told her to take the night off. You both need a rest. She told
me to tell you that she's waiting for you upstairs."
They were already on the highest level. Upstairs could only mean she was
on the viewing platform in the cat's head. "Thanks, Snarf," he said.
"I appreciate you doing this."
"It's no trouble," assured Snarf. "Only..." He
paused and turned guilty eyes in his direction. "I hate to say this,
Tygra, but have you noticed anything strange about Velouria?"
A finger of ice travelled the length of his spine. "No," he
said, trying to act as calm as possible. "Have you?"
Snarf's frown returned. "She's very quiet, don't you think? I mean,
she doesn't cry much, does she? Doesn't really make much noise at all, snarf,
snarf. Not like Lion-O used to. Now he was a noisy baby. Used to bawl the Lair
down he did."
"Well, let's enjoy it while we can. When she's older, I'm sure
she'll have plenty to say for herself."
He turned for the door, needing to escape.
"Tygra?" Snarf called after him.
"Yes, Snarf," he said, reluctantly turning back.
"I'd never say anything in front of Cheetara, but have you ever
considered that Velouria... well, that she might be..."
"What?"
The icy fingers were back, squeezing around his insides until his gut
was a knot of anxiety. He couldn't entirely ignore what Snarf was saying. He'd
had too much experience with children not to know what he was talking about.
And, if he was honest, Velouria's silence had struck him as unnatural for some
time. It had reached the point where he longed for her to be upset just so that
she would wail and let him know that she was all right.
Snarf took a deep breath and looked uncomfortable. "That she might
be deaf?"
A lance of pure ice was driven through his heart. "No, that's
impossible."
"Have you checked?"
"She's fine, Snarf. She's just a quiet baby, that's all." He
was angry now out of desperation driven by the horror of what Snarf was
suggesting. Determined to prove him wrong, he plucked Velouria from her bed and
called to her. "Wake up, sweet pea," he said, softly at first, then
louder. "Come on, Velouria."
She opened sleepy eyes and he smiled. "There, Snarf, see. She's
fine. She heard me."
"You disturbed her. Of course she woke up, poor little mite."
"No, you're wrong." He replaced her in her crib and stood
behind her, out of her direct line of sight. "Watch this."
He snapped his fingers close to her ear and waited for a response.
Velouria did not take her gaze from the bouncing animals that hung from the
mobile above her bed. He called her name and still she did not stir. Only when
he tapped her shoulder did she turn her head to look at him. She beamed up at
him and made a strangled sound that could have been happiness or frustration or
any number of emotions that she had no way of expressing.
He sunk down in the chair beside the crib and felt his gut lurch.
"She is, isn't she?"
Snarf nodded. "I think she is, Tygra. Had you really not
noticed?"
He shook his head. "Yes, I had. I just didn't want to think it
possible."
"Does Cheetara know?"
"I've never asked her."
"Poor little mite," Snarf repeated, reaching out to pat
Velouria's head. "Strange though, she used to cry, when she was a newborn.
The deafness must have come on since then."
"Or have been caused by something external." The enormity of
what he was saying struck him as the words left his mouth. "The illness
she had after we returned from that island..."
"You think it left her deaf?"
"I don't know." He prayed not, though it did seem to be the
starting point of her unsettling silence. If he thought back before that, he
had to admit she did respond to sound. To think that he had been responsible
for robbing his daughter of her hearing was more than he could bear. He got to
his feet, needing to put some space between himself and the nursery.
"We'll talk about this later. Look after Velouria."
"You know I will," he said. "Poor little mite."
"She's not poor," Tygra snapped, his inner turmoil getting the
better of him. "She's got us. We'll help her. I'll find a way to help her.
I just..." He held up his hand. "Snarf, I'm sorry. I have to
go."
Snarf nodded and accepted this statement in silence. Tygra shook his
head. There was too much of that around him lately. Felina being silent about
her reasons for not continuing their lessons, silence about news concerning the
missing Thunderians, silence for too long from the engines of the Feliner, even
silence now in his daughter's room. He needed noise. He needed Cheetara.
He headed out of the nursery and walked straight into Lion-O. Another
person who was spending too much time in quiet contemplation, Tygra thought. He
saw a question forming in Lion-O's curious eyes, but he could not face an
interrogation now.
"I'm sorry, Lion-O, I can't stop," he said, pushing past him.
"But I only--"
"No!" he hollered over his shoulder, filling the brooding air
with blessed sound. "Later!"
His flying feet carried him on down the corridor before anyone else could
put another obstacle in his way.
Lion-O watched him go, wondering what he'd done to provoke such a
reaction in the normally mild-tempered tiger. If anyone could be relied upon to
keep his cool, it was Tygra. Yet the look on his face had been extreme and his
manner unusually ruffled. Couldn't have been anything he'd done, Lion-O
thought. Perhaps he'd had an argument with Cheetara. Now that would make a
change. It was strangely consoling to know that upsets were not only confined
to Felina and himself.
As intrigued as he was, there was little to be gained by hanging about
in the corridor. Whatever was bothering Tygra would clearly have to wait. With
that thought, Lion-O continued to his room and entered. The chamber was in
darkness, save for the silver rectangle of light cast by the moon through the
window. Peeling off his belt, he tossed it onto the bed with a sigh. Everything
was neat and tidy and ordered. The room lacked mess, in particular Felina's
mess. It had driven him wild at the time, but he found he missed the hairbrush
left carelessly on the chair, waiting to prickle his behind when he sat down.
He missed her clutter in the bathroom and her perfumed soap that he would use
by mistake causing him to carry her scent around with him all day. The same
fragrance used to linger in the bed sheets but that had faded by now. He missed
her nagging him about not putting the toilet seat down, which for some reason
he had never been able to fathom irritated her out of all proportion. More than
anything, he missed her at night in his bed, warm and gently breathing beside
him. He never thought he would admit it, but he missed her beyond belief.
At the time, he was sure he was making the right decision in insisting
on their break up. He convinced himself it had been the only thing to do.
Otherwise, they risked pushing past the point of no return where they couldn’t
forge a friendship much less remain lovers. He had told himself that she would
welcome their separation, being a sensible woman – surely she could see where
they were headed and didn’t want to end up bitter and embattled.
Then he had seen her reaction. It had torn his insides to shreds seeing
her plead with him for a second chance, the way she had thrown her pride at his
mercy. He wished he could erase that memory from his mind, but the harder he
fought it, the more it came back to haunt him. At the time he put up a stern
front for he really had thought it was for the better good. If only they could
tough it out, he was sure that time would heal their wounds and then maybe
someday, in the future, they could salvage something of their relationship.
He closed his eyes and silently berated his own stupid pride. Not having
her was infinitely worse than having her, he had decided. He would rather have
her here thinking of someone else than have to endure another night alone
second-guessing his decision. He suddenly hoped she felt the same way – that
instead of time making it easier to deal with her absence, he found he was
still in love with her as much as ever – and she missed him, too. Perhaps he
should lay his fear of failure aside and give it one more chance, as he was no
longer so sure this wasn’t hurting just as much as another misstep. Perhaps it
was time they talked.
Making up his mind, and tossing aside all the stern lectures his
conscience had laid on him over the last several weeks about the dangers of
backsliding, he set off to find Felina. As expected, he found the door to her
room shut and at his knocking he heard her voice call from within.
"It's me," he called out, and a moment later, she appeared in
the now open doorway, barring his entrance.
"What do you want?" she asked, forgoing pleasantries.
Her look and her voice spoke of her weariness and he wondered whether he
was doing the right thing by disturbing her. He noticed that she seemed a
little sluggish lately, but he hadn't realised she was actually sick. Had he
done this to her with his insistence on breaking up? If so, it made him feel
worse that he already did.
"May I come in?" he asked. "I want to talk to you about
something."
She gave him a look that seemed to suggest that was the last thing she
wanted, and then grudgingly stood to one side to let him pass. He entered to
find the room much as he expected. In the glow of the lamplight he found books
on the bed and clothes on the floor. There was even a hairbrush on the chair.
"Felina, about us," he began, taking a deep breath, "we
really need to talk about our situation."
She folded her arms. "Do we? I thought we'd already covered that. I
mean, I thought you already covered that."
He winced, and regarded her sheepishly. He had a sudden fear he was
probably going to make matters worse, as he did seem to have a way of saying
the wrong things to her. Even so, he drew a deep breath and pressed on.
"I’m sorry. I really am. But time has moved on. We've both had the chance
to think things over and in view of how things have changed, I think--"
"Changed?" she said, interrupting him, and he thought, regarding
him with suspicion. "Have they?"
He was a little taken aback by her forcefulness, but decided he deserved
that. "I'm sorry you aren't feeling well. I guess that's my fault."
Hostility burned off her like a raging fire. "Who told you that?
It's not true. Please, don’t flatter yourself to think you have that kind of
effect on me."
Lion-O exercised patience, knowing that his actions before had hurt her
and now she was lashing out. In addition, she was right. It did come off as
rather presumptuous of him.
"No one told me. I couldn't help but notice though. I thought given
the circumstances maybe we could make an effort to be more than civil to each
other. It’s not working this way either." He decided to throw his pride at
her mercy. “I really miss you, Felina. I was wrong.”
"You mean you want to try again?" Her tone was filled with
suspicion. "No, Lion-O, you were right. Our breaking up was for the best.
You told me I'd see the sense of it in time and I have." She gestured to
the door. "Now, if you’d go please, I'm busy."
Her curt dismissal stung more than a little. Lion-O had the overwhelming
impression that he'd missed something in their conversation that was important,
but clearly Felina was in no mood to discuss it. For one thing, if she really loved
him as much as she’d claimed, it struck him as odd that she would be so over
him by now. But then, perhaps she was still too hurt from the confrontation on
He did as he was told, hoping all she needed was more time to forgive
him for his thoughtlessness, and was almost out of the room when he paused.
"Felina, I've not done something, have I?" Maybe there was
more to it than he’d just rationalized.
"Why would you say that?"
"You seem a little... tense."
"No, Lion-O, I'm fine. I'm... happy."
Not quite the response he expected, but it could have been worse. "Good.
I'll leave you to it then. We are still friends, aren't we? I mean, you'd tell
me if there was anything wrong."
She grunted something that sounded unfavourable. "Oh, you'll be the
first to know. Goodnight."
The closing door almost caught him as he left. Out in the corridor, he
tried to pick his way through their conversation to see what she had really
been trying to tell him. He had shown concern, she had denied that she was ill
and then she’d denied him a second chance, of which he was sure he deserved at
this point. But they had parted as friends. A nagging suspicion told him that
there was more to it than that, but he was at a loss to know what. Shaking his
head in bewilderment, he headed back to his darkened room to sleep away another
lonely night.
He had almost reached the door when he saw Cheetara coming from the
opposite direction. From the shawl wrapped round her shoulders, he guessed that
she had been up in the viewing platform.
"Have you seen Tygra?" she asked. "I've been waiting for
him and he hasn't shown up."
"He's around," Lion-O said, deciding not to elucidate on the
tiger's strange mood. If they had been arguing, she probably knew already.
"I think he was going downstairs."
"He was? That's strange. I told Snarf to tell him to meet me
upstairs." Her brow furrowed. "I'd better go and find him to see if
he's all right."
"Uh, he seemed a little strained actually."
"He did? Did he say why?"
"No, he shot past me like there were a hundred Mutants on his
tail."
"Hmm, that doesn't sound so good. Thanks, Lion-O. Sweet
dreams."
He watched her go, reflecting that his dreams would be a whole lot
sweeter if Felina were there to share them.
The light showed under the door of his study and it didn't take much
imagination to guess where Tygra had gone. This was where he usually went to
ground when he was troubled, although Cheetara found it strange that he should
choose to do so at this hour. Whatever it was must have been urgent.
She had enough respect for his privacy to knock before entering. When he
made no answer, however, she opened the door and found him standing by his
desk, engrossed in a particularly large tome. He glanced up when he registered
her presence and his expression fell a little. Somewhat disappointed by this
response, she considered leaving, but he pulled himself together and came over
to her.
"I was worried when you didn't come," she said. "And
Lion-O said you were in a state. Is something the matter?"
It was a question she didn't really need to ask. She could tell from his
eyes that something was troubling him deeply.
"Cheetara, there's something I have to tell you."
She put a finger to his lips. "Come upstairs. I have a feeling this
isn't good news and I want to be sitting down when I hear it."
She took his hand and led the way back from where she had come. Up in
the cat's head lookout, the air was fresher than the recycled atmosphere of
indoors – if a bit chilled from the change of seasons coming on - and there was
a sense of freedom that was not limited by four walls. The inky horizon wrapped
around them, telling of the presence of a wider universe and peoples who lived
and died millions of miles away from this quiet corner of Third Earth. From
here, she had watched the progress of the stars and wondered about their
creation. For thousands of years before her birth, they had shone brightly in
the heavens and would shine still long after her generation were nothing but
dimly remembered footnotes in the history of the Thundercats. Viewed like that,
how small were their lives, how insignificant. Whatever Tygra had to say could
not be so terrible as to cause the stars to come crashing down from their
astral glory.
Tygra sat down beside her with his back to the view. She waited for him
to speak, trying to read the ills that troubled his soul in his lowered eyes.
When finally he did meet her gaze she thought she detected there such sorrow,
it was enough to water down their bright amber colouring.
Moved, she reached for him and placed her hand on his knee. "What
is it? Tell me."
He drew a deep breath and his hand went to hers. "It's
Velouria," he said quietly. "I think... I'm not entirely sure, but
Snarf seems to be of the opinion and so am I that Velouria is..." Another
deep breath. "Cheetara, I think the fever she suffered has damaged her
hearing and left her with acute deafness."
She felt him searching for a reaction from her. "Yes," she
said, "I know."
"You do?"
"I'm her mother. I've known for a while."
His mouth dropped open in surprise and then he pulled her to him and
hugged her. "I'm so sorry," he said. "This is my fault."
She held him tightly, as if the strength of her embrace would drive away
the scar upon their family. "No, it isn't. No one is to blame. Not you,
not the Thunderkittens - this has happened and we have to deal with it."
He pulled away and gently wiped away a tear that had escaped down her
cheek. "My brave Cheetara, bearing this burden on your own. Why didn't you
say before now?"
She sighed and pulled her wrap a little closer about her shoulders.
"Because I knew how it would affect you. I knew you would blame
yourself."
"If only you hadn't had to rescue me from that island--"
"If only never helped," she said firmly. "What is done is
done. There is nothing we can do about it. All that matters is that you are
alive and that Velouria survived that terrible illness. You are both still with
me, that is all I care about. Now we must look to the future."
He smiled in spite of his sadness. "I thought I would need to
comfort you, but here you are, making me feel better."
"Well, I've had longer to think about it. I was upset at first. I
was sad for Velouria and all the things she will miss, along with the
difficulties she will face. Then I realised that the alternative could have
been worse. She's still my daughter, still my little Velouria, but now she's
even more special." She reached up to brush a loose strand of his mane
from his cheek. "I don't deny that it's going to be difficult for us and
her, but I have made her a promise that we will help her every step of the way.
She will not miss out on anything if it is in our power to give it."
"You read my mind," Tygra said, twisting his head just enough
so that his lips brushed her palm. "In fact, I've already started looking
at ways of devising a device to boost whatever hearing she has left. What
nature took away, science may be able to replace, or at least replicate
it."
Strange how he always knew the right things to say, she mused. At that
moment, she knew she loved him more than ever. On impulse, she drew nearer and
kissed him, reaching out to his wounded soul and begging him to let her give
him the healing he needed. He accepted her offering and reciprocated with a
need that left them both breathless.
"We'll go through this together," she said, drawing away
enough to see his expression, glowing again with renewed hope.
"As always."
"Because together we can overcome anything, even this."
His hand slid around her waist and he pulled her to him. "Have I
ever told you just how much I love you?"
She smiled up at him, knowing exactly what he had in mind. "Not
lately. Why don't you refresh my memory?"
"Disgusting," Slithe lisped, drawing back in his lips in a
grimace. "It's enough to make you sick."
Jackalman craned forward, trying to peer through the lens of the
telescopic night goggles that Slithe held inches from his eyes. "What is?
What are they doing?"
"Spooning up there for all to see. It's disgusting, yesss."
"Awk, well, you don't have to look," Vultureman squawked.
"We are supposed to be on surveillance."
"I have to look somewhere," Slithe muttered. "And there's
precious little else going on."
From the comfort of his tree branch, Monkian lay with his eyes closed
and listened with mild amusement to the squabbles of his fellow Mutants. There
was really no good reason to be out here at all, apart from Mumm-ra's
insistence that they shadow the Thundercats and try to discover whether they
had yet been successful in finding their missing countrymen. It was a mystery
to all why he bothered them with this task, when he bragged constantly about
the ability of the Ancient Spirits of Evil to see all and know all. He claimed
he was calling upon the greatest power imaginable to scour Third Earth for the
accursed felines. Clearly, he wasn’t having much success, hence their nightly
watch on Cat's Lair. Monkian suspected that Mumm-Ra was still weaker than he
wanted to admit, but just in case, he wasn’t foolish enough to utter the
suspicions aloud. Mumm-Ra irked and weak could still singe the fur off a
Mutant’s backside and that wasn’t something Monkian wanted to endure.
Vultureman had rightly questioned why it couldn't be done from Castle
Plun-darr, given their long-range scanning capabilities, but Mumm-ra was having
none of it. Secretly, Monkian had come to the opinion that he was making them
suffer for the fracas in the forest. Still, the look on Mumm-ra's face when
they had cut him down from the tree where the Thundercats had left him was
worth a few sleepless nights.
"What are they doing now?" Jackalman was asking. “Let me see!”
"Still kissing," Slithe said. "It's disgusting."
"So you keep saying," said Vultureman. "Is that because
they are Thundercats or do you have an aversion to the act itself?"
The atmosphere dropped several degrees and Monkian chuckled to himself
in the darkness. Vultureman had a way of needling Slithe that was priceless and
the reptilian always took the bait.
"Watch it you!" Slithe growled. "Or I'll make you eat
your tail feathers for breakfast!"
"Hmm, I'd like to see you try," Vultureman said
contemptuously.
"I want to go home," Jackalman whined, forestalling the
inevitable row. "Why are we here?"
"Do you mean in terms of some great galactic purpose or here and
now?"
"Er..." Jackalman was hardly the brightest star in heavens and
was having trouble with Vultureman’s question. "Here and now?" he
ventured at last.
"Because we were too stupid to go off with Grune and instead got
left here, running around behind Mumm-ra like his tame puppy."
"You might be," said Slithe. "I'm here because I want
those Thunderians."
"And because Mumm-ra threatened to fry you on the spot if you
stayed in bed," Jackalman reminded him.
"And that," Slithe conceded. "What happened to Grune
anyway?"
"Who cares?" Vultureman muttered dismissively. "I knew he
was trouble. Never trust a Thunderian, even if they are the enemy of an enemy.
You should be happy he’s not around bossing us about and leave it at
that."
The conversation continued, but Monkian found his thoughts turning back
to that phrase: the enemy of an enemy. It fit his relationship with Arilla,
although he wasn't entirely sure that made her a friend. An ally perhaps, but
not one he would trust with his life. Of course, he couldn’t really say that
about any of the comrades currently in his presence, so it mattered little.
His caution seemed to be wise for his ears picked up an approaching whistle. He sat up trying to gauge its