HOME SWEET HOME

Author’s Note: I do not intentionally tout any one political or societal system above another in this story. It is simply my satire of an issue I thought was too rampantly dissected and publicized, with a great deal of artistic license woven in. Until the TV movie comes out, I am sure this will suffice and, who knows, it may even be found to be more entertaining. If the reader really feels there is a point to be had from this allegory (and that is a term I use very loosely), it is to be found below.

Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home...

Chapter One
I Once Was Lost

 

"That’s IT!" She stormed into their room and slid the door shut as noisily as possible, irritated by the fact that it was not hinged and slammable.

Her brother, sitting quietly upon his bed shuffling a deck of playing cards, started. As a sizable amount of the cards slid out of his hands and into his lap, he looked up at the young girl who had plunked herself down at the edge of her own bed, arms folded obdurately across her chest. There was no mistaking the fury in her expression; still, he chanced it. "Kit? Something wrong?"

"What isn’t wrong?" she fumed, her gaze latched onto the farthest, shadowy corner of the room. "Stupid adults..."

He sighed, and slowly began to gather up his deck. "Let me guess. They aren’t letting you go somewhere or help with something."

"And why can’t I?" she fairly screamed, jumping to her feet and making wild gesticulations with her ivory hands. "I’m capable! I’m not stupid! They’re scouting around Darkside, and they’re taking Snarf with them. Snarf, of all people! Can’t he guard the Lair for once? Would it kill them to just give me a chance? And you too! How’re we supposed to be ‘capable’ and ‘independent’ otherwise?"

Having learned his lesson on complacency long before, he bore this all very patiently, very lovingly. Once he had slid the last jack into place, he carefully set the deck aside and crawled toward the edge of the bed. "I’m sorry, Wilykit," he told her soothingly as he got to his feet and faced her. "But you know there isn’t much we can do about it. Come on, we’d better go down to the control room and start monitoring the scanners." He took her hand reassuringly and led her along a few steps.

She planted her feet firmly before he could open their door again. "Uh-uh. Not this time, Wilykat."

He detected a faraway aspect to her voice. It was only there when she was in the midst of planning something. "You have a better idea?"

"Hang them and their precious scanners. We’re gonna run away again— this time, for good."

"Kit!" He was exasperated, but he quickly lowered his tone. "Have you forgotten the last time already? We nearly died! And the adults assured us we would if we ever tried again."

"That’s because they’re afraid we’ll succeed," she replied huffily, "despite all the things they’ve said and done to make us think we’re no better than dumb little kids."

"Well, I don’t know if they’ve—"

"We always get stuck with the boring jobs and we have no say around here. I, for one, am leaving. Are you with me or not?"

She had left him very little choice. No way would he want to stick around to see the anger of his elders once they returned— furious that she was missing, and that he had not been able to stop her. Even worse, he foresaw her inevitable return to Cats Lair, and knew he could not bear to stand by and watch as she, alone, was disciplined without a kindred soul to share her pain. And, if the unthinkable happened... if she did not return, either because she had established herself somewhere new or had died trying... well, Wilykat could not allow it. He hoped the adult ThunderCats would one day understand, once he was old enough to speak with and explain things to them as an equal.

"I’m coming."

***

 

They had learned a lot from their initial experience with this sort of emigration. First they raided the kitchen for supplies, having vowed never to trust nature books, Berbils, or innocent-looking berries again. Better they start their new life by ensuring there were as few leads concerning their whereabouts as possible. They took their time lashing everything down to their space boards, wanting to be absolutely sure that none of the blankets, bedrolls, or other provisions would fall loose or be spoiled by unfavorable conditions. Departing forever was surprisingly easier the second time around. They took a new, more erratic route that, within a few short hours’ time, led them to a wide expanse of ocean.

Several miles out, the water was unusually calm. Wilykat suggested they set down upon it and take a rest. His sister readily agreed. The two little space boards soon floated side by side in the gently rocking sea. The twins sat almost identically upon them, each facing the other toward the front to balance the weight of their belongings in back. The water was quite frigid, but Wilykit dangled her feet in it anyway, just because. Wilykat, however, was content to sit Indian-style. It was nearly dark now; the sun was dying off to the west, throwing its spectacular moribund display of reds and yellows and purples across the mirrored plane of the ocean’s surface. They tacitly shared the notion that their older counterparts were probably just now discovering their absence. One was triumphant, the other nervous. Eventually his worrisome thoughts seized and had the better of him. "Where are we going to go?"

"I don’t know. Somewhere where there’s opportunity."

"Opportunity? For what?"

"Oh, think for once, Kat!" she snapped. "You know, the opportunity to... to be respected. To make a difference, and be important. To be somebody..."

"But isn’t being a ThunderCat important to you?"

"Well, sure it is. But I’m willing to bet there’s so much more out there for us," Kit answered, gesturing around the vast celestial stretch of invading blue with her arm. "We can still be ThunderCats, but... something else too. Maybe... maybe we’ll do something to make us famous!" she suddenly exclaimed, standing upon her board as fancy took flight in her youthfully idealistic mind. "Everyone will know our names and we’ll be treated better than royalty. How does that sound?"

"Okay, I guess."

"It will be great. You’ll see."

"Hey, are those storm clouds in the distance?"

She turned, craning her neck as she settled once more. "Nah, it’s just getting dark."

Feeling a bit hungry, he rummaged through the articles beside him, finally withdrawing a round piece of fruit. "So far, this isn’t so bad," he ventured, polishing the food upon the front of his tunic before taking a bite.

"And it’s only going to get better," Wilykit assured him with a wink.

"I’m a little worried though," he talked around a mouthful of juicy pulp. "Well, I mean, we haven’t seen land in a long while."

"Another shoreline can’t be much farther off." She squinted into the horizon, which grew increasingly difficult to see. "I wonder what our new home will be like?"

He bit off a little more of the fruit and silently offered the rest to her, which she gladly took. Then Wilykat dug out a worn, thinly bound book from the bottom of his gear, and fished out a small penlight from one of the pouches attached to his belt. "What’s it about?"

He looked up at her, still visible in the rapidly approaching darkness, slightly incredulous that one of his books would actually entice her. She gripped the smallish fruit with both hands, and her amber eyes were wide with curiosity above her gently oscillating lower jaw. Convinced at last that she was genuinely interested, he answered, "Just something I borrowed from the Hall of Ancient Galactic Records back on Thundera. ’Course, I never had a chance to return it, so I just hung onto it. It’s full of old legends. Some of them are actually kind of funny. Like this one—" he flipped to it accordingly "—called Hor-nedj-her-itef."

She scrunched up her nose. "What does that mean?" she inquired once she swallowed.

"I don’t know. I think it’s just a name. There’s a bunch of weird words in this book that I never have figured out." He could see that she her attention was dwindling; after a moment of thought, he added, "Who knows? They could be cuss words, or maybe even magic ones."

He knew just how to please her. She brightened, and her lips spread into a mischievous smile. "Read to me, Wilykat."

So he did, for a long while, pronouncing the ancient tongue where it appeared to the best of his ability. His sister listened eagerly as he related the tale he himself knew almost by heart, of the trials and tribulations of the mysterious bird-man, sired by a sorceress and a corpse, who fought endlessly against another half-man-half-beast, his uncle. Though he had read it countless times, he had never before done so out loud; and somehow his youthful speech gave the tale new power and mystique. Even Kit, transient as she was, sat in spellbound awe, never before aware of the mesmerizing force of her brother’s narrative tone. At length he concluded, "...and thus did Hor-nedj-her-itef, the pride of Un-Nefer, vanquish the Red Fiend and rightfully claim his throne as Neb-Tawy, Sut-Bit, unchallenged ruler of Kemet."

Silence lingered for a moment or two before the girl found her voice. "That was pretty silly," she commented good-naturedly, tossing the nibble-worn core— the last of their supper— a few yards away to a watery grave. "I mean, who ever heard of people and animals all being related to each other in so many different ways? But it was fun to listen to, all the same."

Her words were slightly muffled by a rumbling in the distance. A cold wind breezed past them suddenly, causing Kit to hug herself in an effort to ward off shivers. Neither of them, during the course of the storytelling, had noticed that the darkness surrounding them was so absolute as to blot out the stars. Nothing in space could do the job that thoroughly. "Storm clouds," Wilykat spoke in a half-whisper.

The wind became more violent. His sister hurriedly pulled out a warm woolen blanket from her provisions and wrapped herself in it. "What do we do?" she asked as she pulled her feet from out of the water, which had begun to tumble.

"Let’s get back in the air!" By now the thunder overhead had made it impossible for them to communicate in any other form except by shouting. Slightly more tolerant of cold than his twin, he did not disturb his belongings, only shoved the book of legends underneath them and stowed away his penlight. "Then we’ll head straight and just hope to high heaven we find land!"

Rain began to fall in fat, smothering drops. They quickly activated their space boards and ascended as the waves below grew to violent crescendos. From there they took off at full speed as though trying to flee from an omnipresent monster. Wilykat used both his hands to shield his eyes from the rain, which had become a dangerous obstacle at their velocity. Wilykit used only one, grasping the ends of her blanket to her chest with the other.

They ventured on for what seemed like hours. The storm did not let up. Both of them were quickly soaked through and through. The wind blowing past gave them each an uncomfortable chill, and the darkness made navigation extremely difficult; their only source of illumination was the scant flecks offered by lightning in the distance. As a result they never allowed more than five feet of empty air to separate them. Still, she clung stubbornly to her sopping blanket, and he was only glad that his book was not suffering any ill effects. Once we get out of this, I’ll read to Kit some more, was his driving motivation. Wait ’til she hears the one about Ra and Sekhmet...

Then, suddenly, the world exploded.

The roar was deafening. The light seemed to barbecue their retinas. Neither had ever experienced Nature’s fury at such proximity. Wilykat quickly slapped his hands over his anguished eyes, moaning a little. Somehow, through the booming thunder, he heard his sister’s frightened scream... and felt her head bury itself deep into his chest and her arms fall about his waist as her space board swerved violently and crashed into his, sending them both careening into the turbulent ocean below.

As they plunged deeper and deeper into the frigid, black silence, he was still conscious of her grip on him. Regaining his wits, he grabbed her hands and pried her away, then began to propel himself in the direction he guessed to be upward with Wilykit in tow. All along he worried that he was going the wrong way; but eventually his head broke through the surface, and he heaved her up until he heard her straggled gasp. Then the boy eased his eyes open, thanking everything good and holy that he could still see, although huge multicolored splotches danced before his vision. Kat wrapped his arms around his sputtering, crying sister, treading the water as calmly as he could, although it was almost impossible to stay above the majority of the massive waves. "Wilykit!" he strained to be heard above the racket. "Do you see our space boards anywhere?"

"I— can’t— see anything," she answered pitifully between uncharacteristic sobs, resting her head upon his shoulder as she heaved in air sporadically. "I’m— blind! The lightning— blind!"

"No you’re not!" He fought off the urge to cry himself. His body, except for where his skin contacted hers, began to feel numb with cold, and his legs had already begun to tire. "I thought I was too, but just open your eyes—" He was interrupted by a wave that cascaded over their heads, and spat disgustedly before attempting to speak again. "Open your eyes and you’ll see you’re okay! Please, Kit, don’t cry. Help me look for the space boards!"

Slowly she complied, then began to lash out with even greater hysteria. Her claws dug into his back hard enough to draw blood. "Everything’s black, Wilykat!" she howled.

The image of his drowning sister— her face shiny with two sources of salty water amid her matted fiery mane; those big feline eyes, so like his own, staring directly at him and seeing nothing— was forever burned into the darker recesses of his memory. "It’s... it’s okay, Kit. It’s temporary," he consoled her, only half-believing himself. "Calm down and help me swim. They can’t be too far away."

They situated themselves like Siamese twins, and placed an arm about the other. Each was accordingly left one arm and both legs to navigate the churning ocean. They paddled about relentlessly, frightened but too stubborn to submit. The boy searched with fervent urgency, every once in a while tilting his head skyward in the hope that the pelting rain could clear his eyes of the salt that burned in them. At his side he could hear frightened whimpers escape between his sister’s lips from time to time, yet still she persisted through the infinitely dark dankness that now composed her universe, placing unquestioning faith in her brother’s ability to save them both. Then, suddenly...

"Kit! I— I found yours, Kit! Just swim straight as you can... a little further now... there!"

Remarkably, it had not even capsized. He guided her hands to its edge and helped her clamor atop it, then followed suit. There they sat, dripping and shivering and rocking about as the rain continued to beat down upon them. He glanced around briefly for the other board, but it was nowhere in the vicinity. Wilykat was forced to assume that it was gone for good. "A-are your eyes... any better?" he spoke through chattering teeth.

She shook her head miserably, trembling like a leaf. "You’ll see again soon, I promise. Besides, there’s not much out here to see anyway." There was no use trying to dig out her bedroll to use against the sharp wind and rain that continued to discomfort them; it had absorbed a good deal of water and would be useless. Instead, they would have to make do with their own dwindling body heat. He grabbed up his sister in a protective embrace. She instinctively curled against him, hugging back and resting her head once more against his shoulder. Her skin felt unnaturally clammy. The poor, unwitting boy— he could not see the bluish tinge it had acquired, nor was he aware of how detrimental her wet clothing was to her already precarious condition. All he was concerned with was keeping her as tightly wrapped up as possible. He briefly considered taking to the air again, then decided it would be wholly unwise to do so. He had no idea which way to fly, nor was he very confident anymore in the face of such a fearful tempest. For a great long time he remained with her in silence. Another lightning bolt crawled across the sky, much less intense than its forerunner. The male twin noticed that his eye-splotches had diminished considerably.

"Kat?" Her voice was shockingly faint, even in the midst of the downpour. At least she was no longer sobbing.

"Yeah, Kit?"

"Read to me s’more," she commanded with slurred speech.

"I can’t. It’s too dark and I lost the book."

"Then make up a story. I don’t care what. Anything you wanna tell. I’ll listen."

He told her the legend concerning old king Ra and his lioness-eye, as well as he could remember it. Without the aid of his book, it was nowhere near as spectacular as the earlier recitation. He was forced to leave out most of the strange sounding old words that had pleased her so, and along the way would realize too late that he left out some crucial element. The telling was full of backtracking, stumbling, and uncertain soliloquy. By its conclusion, Wilykat braced himself for some sort of derisive commentary. Instead he looked down and watched as a slow smile formed on her otherwise blank face. "Did you make that up?"

"No."

"I liked it anyway," she whispered.

Then, just as suddenly as it had started, the storm died out. The waves of the ocean grew less and less violent as the wind calmed but did not cease completely. Wilykat was surprised and thankful, despite his and her chronic shivering. "I’m glad that’s over with." He did not have to say it; he only felt that he should.

"I miss home."

She did not have to say that either, especially not in that weak little voice that sent even more potent chills down his spine. "We’ll go back first thing tomorrow."

"They’ll be mad."

"I guess." He paused. "We’ll just have to face the consequences— together."

"This is my fault."

Tears welled up in his eyes. "Don’t say that. I never wanna hear it. Never again, okay?"

"All right. I just... just..." She trailed off.

"I know. You don’t have to explain."

There was a long pause during which only the icy wind harangued.

"Love you."

His eyes grew wide with astonishment. Oh sure, he knew she did, but when was the last time she...? No matter. "Love you too, Wilykit."

Suddenly feeling very drowsy, the pair dozed off where they sat, the ocean rocking them gently to and fro.

***

 

"What’s this you’re babbling about, Hanovik?" The supervisor’s usual frown deepened as his mouth twisted into a noticeable scowl.

Hanovik’s confidence shattered as the jutting jaw of his elder seemed close enough to poke him. "It’s... true, sir. My men picked them up about a half hour ago."

"You say they were just lying there, asleep?"

"Yessir. Drifted ashore on a little metal raft."

"A couple of kids." The superior cupped his massive chin with a hand.

"That’s right, Commander. By the looks of it, they were caught in a nasty storm."

"Any casualties?"

"Both suffered bad hypothermia. It was too much for one of the little tykes. The other one’s gonna be okay, though. Resting in the infirmary right now."

"Any clue where they may have come from?"

The overseer of the border patrol removed from his pocket a strange crimson disc. "They were both wearing one of these. I got this one off the body before it was transported to Barim. There’s also one embedded into their raft. I can’t say I’m sure what it stands for, but it’s a start— ’til the live one recovers, anyway."

The superior officer glanced down at the shiny insignia. The ebony silhouette was daunting. It seemed inappropriate that any young soul should wear such a fearsome, feral image. "Has anyone spoken to the kid yet, Hanovik?"

"Uh-uh— I mean, no, sir. Been asleep since we found them."

He mulled for a bit; the concentration smeared upon his face made him look laughable. "We’ll send this one down to Barim too, once he or she’s well enough to make the trip... which is it, anyway?"

"Pardon?"

"The survivor. Male or female?"

"A little boy, sir."

"All right. Well, he obviously can’t stay here, so we’ll ship him off to whoever handles this sort of thing."

"But, sir—"

"What is it?"

"Who exactly does handle this sort of thing?"

The inquiry stumped him, and he did not like appearing ignorant. "Isn’t there anyone in Barim qualified to process immigration?"

"Um... uh... the Ministry, I suppose, but it’s been ages since—"

"I agree. The Ministry will know what to do." The commander nodded satisfactorily. "Start drafting a full report, Hanovik. They’ll want to be fully informed. Get one of the nurses to talk to that kid. He’s not going anywhere until we have the complete story, and I mean all of it. And do whatever it takes to keep the press from getting a whiff of this."

The subordinate mumbled something unintelligibly.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, sir." He began to exit the small office.

"Oh, and Hanovik?"

He halted before the doorway. "Yes, sir?"

"Make sure the nurse doesn’t clue him in about... about the—"

"Of course not, sir." Hanovik exited promptly.

 

 

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