Chapter 28 of Signal in the Sky

Last Goodbye
By Purrsia Kat & Spaced Angel

If he had had a choice, Ratar-O would have chosen anywhere but Castle Plun-darr for his convalescence. Admittedly, he had been unconscious for most of the time, but even in the deepest sleep, the stink of his surroundings had assaulted his nostrils. In fact, he was sure that his odorous environment had been responsible for bringing him out of his coma far earlier than anyone had anticipated. Recovery from the stomach wound inflicted on him by Mumm-ra's inopportune use of the Sword of Plun-darr had taken time; now he was feeling stronger, however, and it was time to start thinking about revenge.

He had already come to the conclusion that anything he did would have to be done alone. Slithe and his ragtag bag of sycophantic followers were of less use than an invisible raincoat. Grune showed more promise, but Ratar-O had long since tired of his inane ramblings about retribution against the Thundercats and their Lord. When he had first returned to Castle Plun-darr, he had been fired up with the sort of energy Ratar-O was more used to seeing in the more active members of Mutantkind. It was something he could admire, something in which he saw potential. But then he had to remind himself that this manic thing in their midst was still Thunderian at heart, carrying all the weaknesses of the species and no small spice of madness in his composition. If ever proof were needed of that, it was in evidence now.

"I tell you I will make Lion-O grovel at my feet and beg me to put him out of his misery!" Grune was raging as he paced uneasily around the table.

At the other end, Slithe watched him with his upper lip curled into a scowl. "So you keep saying, yesss. You had your chance, Grune, and you failed."

A gloved hand thudded down on the table, making Ratar-O's tankard leap into the air. "Failed!" Grune roared. "You, who have failed to destroy the Thundercats these many years, you dare say that I have failed?"

Slithe dropped the bone he had been stripping of sinew and regarded Grune with palpable contempt. "You didn't succeed though, did you?"

Ratar-O was starting to wonder if Slithe had more pluck than he gave him credit for or if he was just plain stupid. Grune was possessed of the sort of anger that would make a sensible creature get well out of his way. On this occasion, however, Slithe seemed to have won the gamble. Grune lowered his clenched fist and a little of the fire died in his glinting eyes.

"Lion-O was lucky. Next time, he will not have his friends back him up."

"Planning something else?" Jackalman piped up.

Grune gave him a dismissive glance.

"I don't know why you don't go for the girl," Vultureman said. "She would seem to be the easier target, especially now she's heavy with cub."

"I have other plans for her," Grune said.

"Really?" said Slithe. "What?"

"When Lion-O is taken care of, then you'll find out."

"Looks like you'll have a long time to wait, Slithe," said Monkian, smirking behind his tankard.

Grune shot him a look that would have stopped lava in its tracks. "Do not mock me, ape. I will bring about the death of the Lord of the Thundercats, sooner than you think."

"All because Jaga took your woman?" Ratar-O remarked. "Seems a little excessive to me. Besides, what does that have to do with Lion-O?"

"What would you know about anything, rat?"

"As much as it pains me to agree with Ratar-O," said Slithe, "he does have a point."

Grune fingered his club with the impatience of someone longing to find a victim on which to work off his aggression. "If that were my only complaint against the Thundercats, then I would have despatched Jaga's spawn many years ago. However, there is much of which you are unaware. Much for which the death of the Lord of the Thundercats will make amends.”

Ratar-O pursed his lips. If he had heard that argument once, then he had heard it a thousand times. Their gripes never varied. Some disgruntled individual with a complaint about an insult to honour or family name, going on about how only death would ever satisfy their need for retribution. He had long come to the conclusion that it was a futile waste of time. While people like Grune waged their petty wars, those with an eye to the bigger picture were tidying up. People like Ratar-O, in fact. That was how his family had claimed the highest position on Plun-darr in the first place. It wasn't the people like Ratagon, banging on about rules and procedures that made the top grade; rather it was those who were prepared to sidestep all the unnecessary hindrances to reach the top. Rules were there for people who wanted to follow them. For winners, they were there to keep the riffraff in their place.

And from what he had seen so far, Grune was firmly in that latter category. If not for this determination to right a past wrong, he could have taken over the leadership of Castle Plun-darr long ago and then been in a better position to wage war on the Thundercats. Instead, he was a loner, always doomed to fail against overwhelming odds, hidebound by a personal vendetta that kept him as much a prisoner as the Thundercats were to their beloved Code of Thundera. There was little to choose between them and any fascination they had held for Ratar-O had long since withered and died. Now it was just boring.

He had already made up his mind to leave. The mission had been an unmitigated disaster on many levels. He had lost the Sword of Plun-darr, with no earthly way of getting it back. Mumm-ra had gone back on his deal. Slithe and the others were just as firmly entrenched as ever and laughed at his threats to deliver them back to Plun-darr. If he could do nothing else, he had resolved not to go back empty handed. Slithe had the superior force of numbers, but he had a trick up his sleeve called a teleport. He could have Slithe transported to his ship before the reptilian knew what was happening. They could be out of range long before Slithe’s wretched minions stumbled out of bed to see what was happening. Yes, there was still something to be rescued from this farce. All he had to do now was to wait for his ship to return.

It had been something of a blow when Ratagon had informed him on his return to consciousness that he had taken it upon himself to order the ship and her crew to return to Plun-darrian space. As per regulations, he had been informed when he had questioned the boy's decision. A new commander had to be found whilst Ratar-O was out of action, especially as Ratagon, as second-in-command, had decided to remain on Third Earth to tend to his stricken superior. On some levels, Ratar-O had been pleased of the boy's presence. He had been spared Slithe's notion of care, which amounted to sloppy food and the occasional disinterested inquiry as to his state of health. Ratagon, however, had excelled himself. Ratar-O's every whim had been attended to and nothing was beyond the boy's capabilities. He knew that he owed his speedy recovery to Ratagon and that knowledge might just spare the boy a court martial for gross insubordination when Ratar-O got back to Plun-darr.

For now, however, he was content for Ratagon to continue in his role as personal servant and when the boy came in and stood to attention at his side, he idly glanced over at him.

"Yes, what is it?" he inquired.

Ratagon stood to attention. "Message from Plun-darr, sir."

"About time," said Ratar-O, grinning at Slithe. "Looks like your days here are numbered, reptilian."

Slithe muttered something under his breath. Ratar-O got stiffly to his feet and leaned on Ratagon as he helped him from the room. Back in his own chamber, Ratagon eased him into a chair and offered him a piece of paper.

"Our orders, sir," he said, saluting.

"Indeed," said Ratar-O. He was about to read when he noticed that Ratagon was still in the room. "You may go."

"The orders concern us both," Ratagon said.

"You've read this?"

"I had my own copy."

That was unexpected. Quickly, Ratar-O scanned the message and, as he did so, he felt the moisture leave his mouth. He screwed the note up and wadded it into a tight ball. "Nonsense," he said dismissively.

Ratagon swallowed heavily. "What did your orders say, sir?"

Ratar-O waved an airy hand. "It's a misunderstanding. Get me Plun-darr. We'll soon clear this up."

Ratagon dutifully set up the remote communicator and activated the device. The crackle of interference gradually gave way to a stronger signal and soon he was speaking directly with High Command, whose representative turned out to be his second, less favoured, cousin, Ratino.

"Well, well, you did survive," came the voice across the channel. "We did wonder. A wound like that, it's a miracle you're still in one piece."

"Yes, I am," said Ratar-O. "And now I'm restored to health, where's my ship?"

"Your ship? Didn't you get your orders?"

Ratar-O clenched the ball of paper in his hands. "I had some nonsense about my command being terminated."

"Yes, that's correct. What's the problem?"

"The problem is," Ratar-O said through gritted teeth, "that I'm stuck on this dirt ball of a planet. There’s obviously been some mistake."

"No, no mistake. Failure to complete a mission is considered to be quite an unforgivable offence on Plun-darr these days, especially since your grandfather, Ratilla, died."

"He what?"

"Oh, didn't you know? There has been a change of regime. And your presence here is no longer required. I suggest you think about that. Goodbye, Ratar-O. Our paths will not cross again. Out."

The channel was closed with a noisy click, to be replaced once more with static. Ratar-O stared at the device, feeling as though his heart had been ripped out. His grandfather, the greatest ruler Plun-darr had ever seen, was dead. And while he had languished on his sickbed, another had taken his place. Where did that leave him now?

"Sir?" said Ratagon.

"Not now," Ratar-O snapped. "I'm thinking."

"But, sir, our duty is clear in this case."

Ratar-O glanced over at him to see that he had drawn a laser pistol from the holster he wore. "What are you doing?"

"The rules of honour, sir," Ratagon said, as calmly as if he had been offering him the dinner menu. "Honour must be upheld. We have been disgraced. Therefore, there is only one course of action left open to us."

"Kill ourselves? Are you mad?"

"Honour demands it."

"Well, you go ahead. If they think I'm going to quietly do away with myself, then they are greatly mistaken. I shall challenge this!"

"Sir, the order has been given. It cannot be revoked. If you will not die with honour, then as your second-in-command, it falls to me to ensure that you do not disgrace yourself further."

Ratar-O watched with growing horror, as Ratagon lifted the pistol and aimed it at him. "Ratagon, listen," he said. "This is pointless. We can make a new life here. There's no dishonour in that."

"We will know the dishonour in our hearts even if others do not. I do not want to do this, sir, but if you force me--"

"You've just nursed me back to health and now you're going to shoot me? See sense, Ratagon. Our deaths would be pointless."

"As would our continued existence."

With that, he fired. Ratar-O saw the beam fly out towards him, felt it rip through his upper chest and impact on the high back of the chair on which he sat. The wooden slats broke and disintegrated as the beam sheared through them and, no longer able to support his weight, they shattered and he fell to the floor.

On his side, lying in a spreading pool of his own warm blood, he watched through a growing film of black as Ratagon lifted the pistol and placed it at his temple. Ratagon closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. Blood and brain matter splattered on the opposite wall as the laser sliced through his skull. Ratagon fell soundlessly to the floor and lay sprawled across Ratar-O's legs. The weight was there, pinning him down, and yet he could not feel it. He was numb and the fluid collecting in his throat stilled his voice. When he opened his mouth, it was only to issue forth a stream of blood that cascaded like a macabre waterfall onto the already stained floor.

As the darkness closed in on his vision, he was left with the final, rueful thought that he himself had remarked that Ratagon and his damnable adherence to rules and regulations would be the death of him. And he hated being right.

*****************

The book was heavier than it used to be. At least, it seemed that way.

With the dead weight of several thousands of years of Thunderian history clutched to her chest, Felina struggled down the corridor, trying not to let the added heaviness tip her over. A few months ago, this would have been a quick and easy trip. Now at the start of her third trimester, it felt like it would take forever.

Life recently revolved around questions of balance. Her own curious shape, akin to someone having stuck an over-inflated balloon down her tunic and which had denied her the sight of her feet for some weeks now, tended to throw her forwards. This had to be counteracted by leaning backwards, which brought problems of its own in a persistent backache that kept up a steady protest until she was forced to rest. Even then, it still had its grumbles. Well into the night, she tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position. Had she been in her own bed, it would have been easier. Being forced to share with Lion-O, however, meant that she had been obliged to consider his rest too and not shift about too much.

At first she had tried very hard not to disturb him. Hearing him sigh one night as she rolled onto her side with as much care as she could manage finally ended any thoughts of consideration towards him. After that, she had banged her legs heavily on the mattress and got out of bed, putting on lights and making as much noise as she could. For his part, he kept his back firmly turned on her and she was dismayed to find that when she returned to the bed he was sleeping peacefully. A small taste of revenge was to be had in pulling the sheets from him and leaving him naked against the cold night air. By morning, however, he had reclaimed his portion of the covers and her sense of victory had evaporated.

So it had continued. He slept while she suffered. Or at least, he pretended to sleep. At times, his breathing was too shallow to keep up the pretence, but still he refused to speak or acknowledge what both of them already knew. It was childish, perhaps no more so than her own obstinacy about staying put in his bed when bringing in another would have been the more sensible option. The trouble with that idea was that the question would then have arisen over whom was going to sleep in it. Felina had no intention of moving; this mattress was bad enough without the added sagginess of the spare. She was sure Lion-O would be willing to make the move, but she knew it would involve her having to ask him and she wasn't prepared to lower her flag to do that right now. She had given him consideration and he still wasn’t satisfied. Now it was time he did something for her without being asked. If the bed had become a battleground, she had no intention of being the first to concede defeat.

Still, the lack of sleep wasn't helping matters. She felt constantly tired and yet, despite being told that she should rest, stubbornly resisted the temptation to put her feet up, as Snarf called it. Perhaps it was because she was being told that she dug her heels in; certainly, it made sense. As now, her body craved rest and exhaustion dogged her every footstep. She tried to ignore it, telling herself that it was pregnancy-related, like all the other of her complaints that made daily life a chore. Giving into it would be an unnecessary admission of weakness at a time when everyone was already on edge over the events of the previous few months.

It had shaken everyone, although few were willing to admit it. To her mind, the best thing that had come out of their miserable experience at Firerock Mountain was that Lion-O had had a sudden change of heart about the lessons she had been giving Tygra. He had urged her to continue, had almost insisted in fact, in a way that made her suspicious, especially when she considered the rekindling of their romantic relations. When she had questioned him, he had said that it made sense that the knowledge she had should be shared. Why, she had asked.

His reply had been worrying her ever since. In case anything should happen to her, he had said, shrugging his shoulders to lessen the impact of what he was implying. He had left it at that, but Felina was still disturbed. Was he just referring to another incident like the one they had survived, or was he thinking of something to come in the more immediate future? Was he thinking, for example, of the risks involved in giving birth? Was he not expecting her to survive that ordeal?

She had considered that prospect, time and again. Cheetara had such difficulties when she had gone into labour that only the knowledge and intervention of Willa had saved the lives of both mother and child. As it was, it had left her unable to have another. The old stories about females dying in childbirth in less enlightened times still held currency. Mothers did die without ever getting to see or hold the child they had carried within them for nine long months. Despite all the advances, medicine and the healers who practised it had yet to eliminate all the inherent dangers of childbirth. As if life as a Thundercat wasn’t dangerous enough, it struck Felina with more than a little irony that something as natural as having a baby could be her undoing, accomplishing what Mumm-Ra and the Mutants had thus far failed to do.

There was no reason to suspect there would be complications in her case, but she had given the matter a great deal of thought. It was clear that the medical knowledge in the Lair was sufficient to handle a routine birth. Anything else and she had judged that her prospects would not be so good. Matters had improved slightly with the knowledge that Pumyra was a trainee healer, although the fact that she had never assisted at a birth was less encouraging.

Overall, Felina had come to the conclusion that her life and that of her cub would be better entrusted to people who knew what they were doing. Willa had already proved that the Warrior Maidens were well able to handle any sort of problem that a birthing mother might encounter. She had gently probed Arilla about whether she and her sisters would be willing to accommodate an outsider and was met with an enthusiastic offer of any help they could provide. After that, the decision had been an easy one. All she had to do now was to convince the others.

As she rounded the corner, the book shifted in her arms and the weight made her stagger. She hit the wall, dropped the book and had to fight to stay upright. She succeeded and then poured curses on the intractable book that defied her attempts to get it from one room to another. For an inanimate object, she was sure it was capable of spite, as though the tales of dark deeds described within its pages had seeped into the fabric of the book itself and given it the ability of hate. It lay there, several feet below her reach, defying her to pick it up. And it, just like her, knew that in that one simple action, she was about to come unstuck.

It was the getting down to it that was the real problem. Whichever way she tried, her stomach got in the way and her arms were not long enough to circumvent it. The only way was to bend at the knees and reach behind her, which, without the benefit of being able to see what she was doing, could take the better part of five minutes. She was already late for her appointment with Tygra and because of the book would be later still.

All the curses in the world would not bring it to her hand, however, so carefully bending, she began the journey down towards it. The hard mass of her stomach pressed against her legs and pushed itself up under her breasts, making her feel bunched up and uncomfortable. An easier option would have been to call someone to help, but that would never do. She had managed thus far on her own; she would continue to do so.

With one hand on the wall, she groped with the other one at the unseen floor and a few seconds later, her fingertips touched the slightly rough fabric of the book cover. She smiled, congratulating herself that she had made light of a tough job. It was a small victory, but an immensely satisfying one. As feelings went, it was short lived, for as she caught hold of the book and pushed herself upright a little too quickly, a wave of dizziness made her head spin and she had to lean against the wall to stop herself falling down.

Then, in the midst of a world of flashing lights, she heard a friendly voice. An arm went around her shoulders for support and she feared collapse no longer. When the spell passed, she blinked up at Pumyra and thanked her for her help.

"You didn't look very well," said Pumyra with concern. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Felina said. "Just a dizzy spell. It's passed now."

"You should take it easy, Felina. This sort of thing is to be expected in someone so advanced."

She stiffened slightly at the implication. "I've still a couple of months to go."

Pumyra's eyebrows twitched upwards a fraction. "Really? That does surprise me. The size you are, I'd expect delivery within the month."

"What does that mean?" she asked, trying to sound less worried about the implication of Pumyra's words than she felt. "The last check-up I had, everything was fine."

"Yes, I'm sure it was. I'm just wondering…"

For someone who had admitted that she had yet to complete her medical training, Felina thought Pumyra had already mastered that look employed by healers when they were about to impart a revelation designed to rock their patients back on their heels. She steeled herself for whatever prognosis was about to be delivered and waited. When a momentary pause dragged on for a few seconds more, she decided it was better to know than to endure torment any longer.

"Wondered what?" she prompted.

Pumyra shook herself out of her reverie. "You might be carrying twins, triplets even, from the size of you."

Felina stared at her, hearing the words but too horrified to take it in. Giving birth to one baby was enough, but she had read that the risks doubled with multiple births. "That's impossible," she stammered. "I can't be…"

"I don't see why not. Twins aren't that uncommon in our kind. Have you had a scan recently?"

"No," she mumbled, unwilling to admit that that was something she had been putting off to avoid causing any further conflict in the Lair. The fact that Tygra was the only one capable of using the scanner would have been embarrassing for both of them and a lighted torch to the taper of Lion-O's simmering suspicions.

"I could organise one for you," Pumyra suggested. "I know my way around the infirmary now and--"

"No," Felina said, a little more firmly. "Thank you for the offer, but I'm really too busy at the moment."

She realised her tone must have been brusque for Pumyra immediately backed down. "Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude on your time, my lady."

This deferential manner was something Felina was finding hard to come to terms with. Like Lion-O, she had told the three newcomers that she was perfectly happy to be addressed by her name, but at times, she noticed that there was still some awkwardness between them. It reminded her, even, of not that long ago when she insisted on being formal with Lion-O, as much out of habit as it was to get his goat. Felina didn’t suspect the latter with the newcomers and always tried her best to put them at ease. For now, smiled kindly to mitigate the harshness of her words.

"You didn't, Pumyra. I'm just…" She hesitated, knowing that if she allowed her tongue its head, then she would reveal the true depth of her concerns about the possibility of her carrying twins. "It's not convenient at the moment. Later perhaps."

Pumyra kept her head bowed. "Of course. As you wish." She too managed to conjure up a weak smile. "You know where to find me, when you're ready."

She turned and left, leaving Felina staring after her even when the corridor was finally empty. She wondered if there was something desperately wrong with her if such good news could send her into a spiral of despair. How would she cope? How would any of them cope? They would be fighting off Mumm-ra and Grune with one hand and trying to change diapers with the other with not just one more baby in the Lair, but possibly two or three new additions. Not for the first time, she reflected that her pregnancy could not have happened at a worse time.

Thoughts of the future continued to torment her when she finally made it to the lesson. Over and over came the doubts. If now wasn't a good time, then when? The ups and downs of her relationship with Lion-O had ruled earlier out of the question. Even now, she could feel the strain between them. Things were deteriorating more rapidly than either of them could anticipate following their brief reunion upon coming home from Fire Rock Mountain. They could hardly share a bed without annoying each other. Perhaps no time would ever have been right. Babies were like that. They came along when they were ready, not when it was convenient. Perhaps they were wiser than she was. Perhaps this was the right time.

A dull thud brought her out of her reverie and she looked over at her fellow student to find that Tygra had shut the book and was sitting back in his chair with a weary sigh.

"I'm sorry, Felina," he said. "I don't feel up to this right now."

Another sigh that seemed to come from the depths of the soul escaped his lips as he ran his fingers through his mane. He seemed tired, as though the cares of the world were weighing down on his shoulders. There were certainly enough of them. First there was Velouria's deafness and now the loss of the Feliner, which presented him with two important and consuming projects. They needed to rebuild the ship, even after rescuing their brethren, for with the Rat Star showing up, they could use the advantage of flight to help even things out. Vultureman and his Flying Machine had been bad enough coupled with the other Mutant vehicles of flight so indeed the Feliner had an important role in their continuing survival. But Velouria too, needed attention and a hearing device completed as soon as possible. The earlier she was restored some of what she’d lost, the better for her overall development. Each was equally demanding his attention and creating guilt whenever one won out over the other. That he managed to get any time away for their lessons was a wonder to her. His time was increasingly precious, which only served to make her feel ashamed that she had spent most of the lesson wrapped up in her own problems.

"Was it my fault?" she ventured. "I know I've not been very attentive to our lesson today."

He blinked at her in surprise. "No, of course not. I've a few things on my mind. I can't concentrate."

"You mean Velouria?

Tygra slowly nodded. "Yes, that's one of them." He picked up a pen and idly scrawled on the blank page before him as he spoke. "I can't help thinking that her deafness is my fault. If I hadn't followed the Mutants, if I hadn't allowed myself to be swept away, if you and the other Thundercats hadn't had to rescue me from that island, if Velouria hadn't fallen ill..." His fingers were turning white as they pressed on the pen and suddenly it snapped in two. "Curse it all! Why did this happen?"

Felina reached out and laid her hand on his shoulder. "Sometimes things happen that we don't understand. That's just the way it is. I blamed myself when Bela died, that her being there had been my fault. The truth is, it's no one's fault, not mine and not yours."

He looked over at her, his eyes meeting hers. "You have an old head on those young shoulders," he said. "You're right of course. But I'm her father. I'm meant to protect her, not lead her into harm." Again came that sigh. "And now," he said, his voice falling a pitch, "now I can't even help her with what limited hearing she does have." A rueful smile came to his lips. "Why is it that I can make metal fly or turn stone into a fortress, but I can't find a way to make my daughter hear?"

It was a question that had no answer. Instead, Felina looked for a little hope. "You will, I know you will. It'll take time, but if anyone can do it, then you are that person, Tygra."

"Thanks. I appreciate the faith you have in me."

"Even if you have none in yourself?"

"Something like that." He brushed the crushed remnants of the pen into the bin and returned his gaze to her face. "What's on your mind?"

Felina removed her hand from his shoulder and stared out of the window. Her worries had turned her mind into a ferment of despondency and she needed to share them with someone. Tygra was kind and considerate and a good listener. She was sure she could confide in him without the rest of Lair coming to hear of her concerns.

"Pumyra said something to me earlier." She paused, wondering if he would think her fears silly. She looked over at him and found him patiently waiting for her to continue. Her doubts evaporated. "She thinks I might be carrying twins."

"Possible, I suppose."

"You think?"

"You are quite big for this stage in your pregnancy."

It was Felina's turn to sigh. "That's what Pumyra says."

"She would know. My medical training is basic at best." He fell silent and Felina could tell that something else was to come. "You could let Pumyra examine you."

Felina shook her head. "No. I don't feel comfortable with that."

"Why? Because she's still a trainee?"

"Because I don't know her. Not that well anyway."

Tygra gave this statement some consideration. "I would venture to suggest that most of us are unfamiliar with the people who treat us. Does that make them unsuitable for the task? Or," he added, "are you worried she might be right?"

It was a question, nothing more. There was no sense of judgement attached to it, nor any doubt. He was right, of course and Felina had to wonder how he knew.

"That might be part of it," she conceded. "Tygra..." She looked up to meet his eyes. "I'm afraid. Is that very wrong of me?"

"No, Felina," he said gently. "I can understand. Cheetara had these same doubts. You are very young. Parenthood is a great responsibility for the both of you, doubly so if you are carrying twins. If you are, then you should be prepared. You should find out one way or the other. But it’s natural for any woman to worry as the birth draws near. You’re not alone."

"That's your advice?" she said, smiling at his frankness.

"As a friend, yes. Personally, I don't think you have anything to worry about."

"Maybe." She returned her gaze to the window and wondered if now was a good time to test out the reception to her decision. "Tygra, what would you say if I said that I wanted to have my baby in the Treetop Kingdom?"

After a moment of silence, she glanced back at him to find that his expression was unreadable.

"Why?" he asked finally.

"A number of reasons. They know much more about childbirth than we do. Willa helped Cheetara. If there are any complications, I'd rather be with people who know what to do, no offence intended."

"None taken. Have you asked the Warrior Maidens if they are willing to do this for you?"

"Yes, I asked Arilla."

"Ah, Arilla," he said, thoughtfully. "Yes, Panthro mentioned her. And what provisions do they make?"

As Arilla had described it in some detail, she was able to give him a full answer. "Outsiders are not allowed in the birthing room, so it would be private and quiet. I feel that's what I want. Just women and I don’t want Lion-O there, though he could wait outside. Arilla said that they would have their best midwifes in attendance in case of any complications, so I would be in good hands."

"No outsiders at all?"

"No one," Felina confirmed. "That includes other females too."

Tygra stroked his chin and she could tell something was bothering him. "Well, I have no problem with it, if that's what you want. I can see the others having certain issues with the arrangements though. There is a tradition of having witnesses on hand to see the birth of a royal heir. That ensures there are no accusations of false pregnancies and babies being substituted."

Felina almost laughed. "This is no false pregnancy," she said, patting her sizeable stomach, starting a bit when the baby gave a healthy kick as if to confirm it.

"I know, but as I said, I can see the others having a problem with your decision. Panthro in particular is a stickler for tradition. If anyone objects, he will. Believe me when I tell you, Felina, he won't be happy about it."

****************

"I'm not happy about this."

Panthro was aware that Lion-O was no longer listening, but he repeated himself anyway. Since Felina had told them of her decision to give birth at the Treetop Kingdom, he had been filled with foreboding. Traditions notwithstanding, there was too much scope for things to go wrong in this whole enterprise. If Felina were to give birth anywhere, it should be in the Lair, where they could protect her and the child. He had not forgotten rumours of a plot to steal the child away and he had been the first to remind the others.

“You can’t let her do this,” he said a little louder.

Lion-O finally took his attention from the side window of the Thundertank’s front cabin and looked over at him. “It’s her choice, Panthro.”

“With all due respect, Lion-O, no, it isn’t. This just isn’t any baby we’re talking about here. This is your heir. Tradition dictates that Thunderians of good reputation must be on hand to witness the birth. There’s a reason for that, as you well know. Every royal baby has been born that way. It was good enough for your father, and so it must be for you. Do you really want there to be a question about your son’s parentage twenty years from now when he’s about to take over the task as Lord of the Thundercats? Trust me, it doesn’t take much to spark doubt among the masses.”

Lion-O snorted. “First of all, we don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl. Second of all, who’s going to question that? Us few? Unless the baby is born with orange fur and black stripes, I know I won’t.”

Panthro gave Lion-O a sidelong glance, his eyebrows rising at the pointed comment. For now, he’d ignore the implication. “Don’t count on there not being others, Lion-O, or any other possibility that might come up. Twenty years, it’s a long time for things to happen. For one thing, when we get that Feliner re-built, we’re definitely going to look into equipping that baby with space drives. Tradition, Lion-O, stick to it and you can’t go wrong. Better than regretting it later.”

Something like mild annoyance flickered in Lion-O’s eyes. “I know about tradition,” he said. “I also know that Felina is concerned about the delivery, especially now there’s the possibility she might be carrying twins. In the circumstances, I’d prefer her to have the best possible care. If we can’t give her that, then I must respect her decision to put herself in the hands of those who can.”

“And this talk of a plot to steal the child?”

“That’s why we’re going to the Treetop Kingdom, to see what arrangements can be made. If possible, I’m going to suggest that the Warrior Maidens come to Lair to supervise the birth. At least that way we’ll be able to control the situation should anyone try to put this plot into action.”

Panthro sighed and banged his hand on the steering panel. “I still don’t like it. I’m not sure that I entirely trust the Warrior Maidens.”

He caught Lion-O’s slight laugh. “You mean you don’t trust Nayda?”

“I’m not talking about her. There are certain elements in the Treetop Kingdom who aren’t as friendly towards us as I’d like.”

He neglected to put a name to the possible conspirator, although he had his suspicions. Arilla had been making herself too visible around the Lair of late. Given what Nayda had told him and the revelation that Arilla had been instrumental in persuading Felina that the Warrior Maidens would be able to help her when the time came, he was pretty sure he had found the culprit who leaked information about them to the Mutants. He still had not forgotten that ambush they had walked into on the way to the Treetop Kingdom, lured into a trap by a message that Willa had received news about their missing countrymen. They had escaped that time, only to be told that the only news Willa had received was silence. It was all too convenient to be just coincidence. Then there was the night the Thunderkittens had heard talk of the plot against Felina’s unborn child. Arilla was abroad that night too, coming to the Lair on the pretext of bearing gifts. That was why he had insisted on accompanying Lion-O and Felina on this mission to the Treetop Kingdom. If Felina was about to put herself in the hands of a possible enemy, he had to know. He wasn’t about to let anyone catch him unawares.

Some way into the forest, a horn sounded amongst the trees and he slowed the Thundertank to walking speed. It always came as something of a surprise when the trees opened out into the clearing where the Warrior Maidens had made their arboreal home and more than once had he nearly slammed the Tank into one of the mighty trees that supported their dwellings. The trouble with this forest was that everything looked the same. If not for the Thundertank’s navigational computer, he was sure he would drive around endlessly in circles.

A few seconds later, they emerged into the clearing to see a gathering of Warrior Maidens waiting for them with Willa at their head. Panthro stopped the Thundertank and Lion-O was quick to help Felina out of the rear compartment. She accepted without comment, which was something of a recent improvement when before she might have protested. Judging from her size, however, Panthro suspected that Lion-O’s help had finally been welcome. At least he was doing something right.

“Greetings to you, Thundercats,” said Willa, striding briskly over to them. “We were expecting you. I understand you wish to discuss the arrangements for the delivery of Felina’s child.”

While Lion-O made the necessary small talk, Panthro scanned the crowd. He soon picked out Arilla, smiling to herself in a way that made his skin crawl and resurrected the feeling that they were walking blithely into some trap she was planning. Skipping over her, his gaze soon fell on Nayda. She caught his eye and, at his wave, she made her way over to him.

“I need to talk with you in private,” he said. “May I?”

“Of course.” They wandered away from the crowd and lost them amongst the trees. “What troubles you, Panthro?”

Never one to beat around the bush he came straight to the point. “This Arilla, what do you know about her?”

Nayda grimaced. “You know I have no sisterly affection for her. She has a mean spirit.”

“Mean enough to want to cause Felina harm?”

Nayda’s mouth dropped open. “Explain yourself! Although I do not like her, she is still a Warrior Maiden and undeserving of your accusations.”

He saw that he had offended her and tried to mitigate his error. “Forgive me, I have concerns about her. Do you know she talked Felina into giving birth in your kingdom?”

Nayda frowned. “No, I did not know that. I understood the request came from Felina herself. It was certainly unexpected. We do not normally grant such a request to outsiders. But you are friends and Willa is happy to accommodate you, even if others are not.”

He caught the slight change in her tone. She had already told him that their presence was not appreciated by certain Warrior Maidens and how it placed Willa in direct conflict with the elements that spoke out against her rule. In agreeing to Felina’s request, Willa had compromised herself for the sake of an ally. That spoke of a duty of care beyond the ordinary. It went some way to allaying his fears, although it did not address Arilla’s role in the situation. Willa, no doubt, had only good intentions but if there was a darker soul amongst them, Panthro worried fiercely what that could cost the Thundercats.

“Could she be planning something?” he asked. “I mean, is it possible?”

Nayda considered. “Arilla does have experience with birthing mothers. That she would be allowed into the birthing room is possible, especially if Felina asks for her to be there. We would of course provide protection for both Felina and her child.”

“I’m sure you would. All the same, I don’t trust this Arilla.”

“After what you have said, neither do I. That she would take it upon herself to put such ideas in Felina’s head troubles me, especially as she was initially reluctant about our alliance with the Thundercats.”

“She was? What changed?”

Nayda shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“If she changed.” Panthro ground his fist into his palm. “I don’t like it, Nayda. I really don’t like it.”

Before she could say another word, the ground shook. A distant rumble that grew until it sounded like it was directly beneath his feet it was soon replaced by the sound of screams from the clearing behind them. A few feet away, the earth caved in, bringing a tree down with it. Panthro grabbed Nayda and swung her out of the way of the approaching chasm, only to feel the ground sink beneath his feet. The world turned brown as he slid down a muddy bank, slimy with newly thawed earth. Trees fell in after him and mud filled up the hole, blocking out the light. All went black and still the roar sounded in his ears, until, as suddenly as it had started, it stopped and silence reigned.

It was some surprise that he was still alive at all. Nayda too seemed to have survived. She lay at his side, coughing and choking on the dirt that had made its way into her nose and mouth. As dark as it was, small specks of glowing fluorescence could be seen on the walls and, as his eyes grew accustomed to the lower light levels, he was able to better discern his surroundings.

They were in an underground tunnel, neither able now to go forward or back because of the collapse of the ground around them. Leading away to the left and right, however, were other tunnels, which seemed to be clear of obstructions.

“What in Jaga’s name happened?” he asked. “Where are we?”

“Giant worms make these tunnels,” explained Nayda. “Every year there are cave-ins all through the forest when the earth begins to thaw. Usually we are able to keep the worms away from our kingdom. This year, it seems we have failed.”

“Giant worms,” Panthro mused. “Are we likely to meet any of these guys?”

He thought he detected a slight smile on Nayda’s face. “You mean are they likely to try to eat us?” She shook her head. “They move south when the colder weather comes. These tunnels are deserted for now.”

“Well, we’re in them, and who knows how many of your Warrior Maidens too.”

“It is no great problem,” said Nayda. “We are used to such disturbances in the forest. All these tunnels lead to the surface eventually. We have only to follow one to find our way out.”

“Then let’s get going.”

He got to his feet and extended a hand to offer her assistance. She took it and he pulled her up, a little more forcefully than he had planned, so that she bumped into his chest. For a long time, she stood staring up into his eyes, her nearness enough to make his heart work overtime. Then, she drew away, brushing her muddy hair from her face. The moment was awkward and he fought to find something to say to take the embarrassment out of the situation.

“Lucky for us there’s some light in here.” He touched the glowing substance on the walls and inspected the resulting gleam on his fingers. “What is it?”

“Worm excrement.”

Panthro quickly wiped his hand up the wall. “Why didn’t you tell me that before I touched it?”

Nayda laughed. “How was I to know what you were going to do?”

He scowled in good humour. “I can see this is going to be a long day. Which way out?”

She pointed to the tunnel on the left.

“Why that one?”

“Why not?”

That was an answer he could not argue with. In this domain, he had to trust to her judgement. It was an alien concept to someone who liked being firmly in control, but as he followed her, he found it was not entirely unpleasant. In fact, if he had to be trapped in tunnels left by giant worms, then Nayda was the perfect companion. Despite Lion-O’s teasing, he found that he did trust her, more so than he cared to admit either to himself or anyone else. If any situation would test his resolve about their relationship, he knew this would. He was determined not to fail.

*******

One minute he had been talking to Willa, the next he was falling. Drab browns flashed past his eyes until finally sludgy earth met his backside and cushioned his landing. Less comfortable was the full force of Felina's weight as she landed on top of him. An elbow ground into his groin and a foot flailed in the general direction of his face. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he put on his best smile and helped Felina ease herself off him. Ironically, this was the closest they had been in the past month and as usual the circumstances were less than favourable.

"Are you all right?" he asked with concern. "Did you hurt yourself?"

"No, I'm fine," she assured him. "I had a soft landing." She noticed that he was having trouble getting to his feet and came to the obvious conclusion. "Oh, sorry about that."

"Never mind."

It took supreme effort to straighten up and, when he did, he was left with a burning pain that brought tears to his eyes. Just as well Felina was pregnant, he told himself; after a blow like that, he doubted there would be any more children. A more immediate concern was their current predicament. He looked up to a blue sky framed by earthen walls on all sides. It was clear enough that they had fallen into a hole. Where it had come from or why it had opened up were questions he would save until they had found a way out.

Normally, it would have been a simple matter of vaulting out. They had fallen perhaps ten feet, not a particularly great distance for a fit Thundercat to manage from a standing start. Felina did not have that option, however, and he had no intention of leaving her behind. He would have to think of another way.

"Do you think you can climb in your condition?" he asked.

"You mean does being pregnant make me so stupid I can't put one foot in front of another? No, Lion-O, it doesn't. I can manage."

He caught the note of irritation in her voice and decided to ignore it. Now was neither the time nor the place to get into a petty quarrel, especially since he had found a way out. It was risky, but much safer than remaining where they were.

The collapsing earth had created a mound against the walls of the hole, making a ramp of loose dirt. If they could climb up it, he was sure he could lift Felina the rest of the way to safety. His only concern was whether it was solid enough to take their weight. There was only one way to find out.

Scrambling up the first few feet of the ramp, he felt the earth slide under his feet. A few balls of mud rolled down and away from him, but otherwise it seemed solid enough. He offered his hand to Felina and warily she took it, gingerly taking her first few tentative steps up onto the yielding earth. Her foot sunk in and she almost fell, but he caught her and supported her weight, whilst feeling his own feet become mired in the mud. It was going to be tough, but he was confident they could do it. That feeling lasted until the moment he heard a cry from above and the tortured sound of splintering wood.

Suddenly the daylight was blocked out and the next thing he saw was a tangle of branches heading in his direction. He grabbed Felina and lifted her off her feet, as he ran with her down the ramp to the safety of a dark recess in the wall. The tree slammed into the ground, causing further collapse. Mud and loose soil rained down on them, forcing Lion-O further back into the recess. Covering Felina with his body, he felt twigs from the crippled tree brush his legs and then came searing pain, as something stabbed into the back of his thigh. The groan of the dying tree muffled his cry as it continued its slide into the hole and slowly creaked to a halt.

With stillness came darkness and yet he was aware that something wet and warm was running down the back of his leg. Only when he felt it was safe did he release Felina and reach down to explore the extent of the damage. He didn't have far to look. A splintered branch had entered his leg and the force of the tree had driven it out through the other side. In the dim light of their underground cavern, he could see the glinting tip of the branch protruding several inches from his upper leg.

"Oh, great Jaga," whispered Felina, indicating that she too had seen his injury. "Does that hurt?"

Silly questions usually deserved silly answers, but he could see she was genuinely shocked by what had happened. Actu