Disclaimer: Me? Own ThunderCats? Hardly. Maybe someday, but not today. I would like that, actually.
We're getting there. I'm thinking a chapter and an epilogue after this one. I'm quite excited to share them, and I've looked forward to this for…I don't know, a year-and-a-half? Maybe. Something like that.
Anyway. I'm very tired and bid you all adieu until next chapter. The same warnings as always apply. I hope to finish the story within the next month or two. Again, might go back and edit, but I'm reasonably pleased for now. Oi, college and work…they sap your energy.
"Black clouds are behind me,
I now can see ahead.
Often I wonder why I try,
Hoping for an end.
Sorrow weighs my shoulders down
And trouble haunts my mind.
But I know the present will not last,
And tomorrow will be kinder."
Tomorrow Will Be Kinder, The Secret Sisters
"Bill, I'm telling you, this stone was glowing."
Panthro allowed Bebo to handle the dim stone and examine it. "Is very shiny. Is Panthro collecting pretty rocks now?"
"No. That's Thundrillium. And it was glowing before. I've tried everything, but won't register any energy now. I kind of wanted your take on it, Bill," he said, taking a bite of his sandwich. Bebo took a little sliver of Candyfruit, opened the jaw hinge of his oral cavity, placed it in, and closed the hinge again. Eating was a strange chore for berbils, and Panthro wondered if biologists would ever truly figure out the extent of the physiology of the berbil. Strangely metallic, and yet they grew like animals…
Anyway. He snapped his attention back to Bill, who had taken the piece of Thundrillium and was looking it over. "Very strange. Did Panthro try shocking any other Thundrillium?"
"Yeah. The same thing happened. In fact, I powered an electric mower for two hours with it before it ran out. I rewired it so the Thundrillium attached to the battery when it needed charging, and the thing turned on. It was putting out electricity! C'mon, that's pretty bizarre for a piece as small as my pinkie claw!"
Grouchy, Panthro sliced Bebo's half of the Candyfruit into little pieces so Bebo didn't have to cut it himself. Bill gave him the piece of Thundrillium back. "Bill would need to work with Panthro. Maybe continuing electric current would make Thundrillium keep working for long time?"
Panthro considered this and took one bite of Candyfruit. Bebo waved his arms happily. "Huh…keep the current going? Maybe. Still, that'd kind of make Thundrillium a hassle, if you have to keep shocking it to make it work."
Bill shrugged. "Maybe can redirect Thundrillium current flow back into rock to keep going if make generator? Only need initial spark then. Show Bill stone and Bill will try to help. Bill is free on Friday."
"All right. Sounds good." Panthro pocketed the piece of Thundrillium and felt his mouth turn down at the corners even further. "Kinda funny. I wish Lion-O were here to talk to as well. Between the three of us, we'd have me, a berbil genius and the nutty kid with innovation. That's important you know."
Nodding, Bill sighed. "Panthro and berbils miss Nice Lion-O."
"You're not the only ones." Panthro looked over his shoulder and Bill waved. Jaga had come in with a list, and Bella had just rolled up to him.
"Hello old Jaga! Where pretty Cheetara?" Bebo tried to hop down from the counter but Panthro caught him and lowered him gently to the ground.
Jaga shook his head. "At home watching the kittens. She's not wanted to go out too much lately. As I said, several of us also miss Lion-O." He lowered his head to speak to Bella. "However, we have also missed the excellent food at this establishment. That much can be remedied though. May I place a carry-out order dear lady?"
Bella giggled and nodded. "Bella like old Jaga."
Bill crossed his arms. "Robear Bill talk fancy sometimes," he muttered. Bella took the order back into the kitchen and Jaga seated himself at the counter beside Panthro.
"How's that girlfriend of his?" Panthro asked. Jaga shook his head and seemed older suddenly, shoulders tired.
"She's a trooper. More concerned with making sure the kittens are happy than worrying about herself. But she misses him terribly, and I'm trying to figure out something to cheer her up." Jaga paused. "You were talking about Thundrillium?"
"Yeah. Lion-O sent me a sample." Panthro, at Bebo's prodding, took another bite of Candyfruit. "I've been messing with it for a while. Don't go spreading that around…although I don't think many people would care."
"He said he was working on a generator to utilize it in his last e-mail. Quite ambitious." Jaga gave him a look. "Might I ask you a question?"
"Huh? Sure."
"How often do you come here?"
Panthro blinked and cleared his throat. "Ah…well. A couple times a month, maybe…"
Bebo looked up at him innocently. "But Panthro come to see Bebo and Daddy two times a week now! Used to come not so often, but now come lots of times!" He hugged Panthro's arm and he felt his masculinity recoil under the blow.
Jaga noticed the discomfort and said, "Oh, there's nothing wrong with it. I was just asking because frankly, the kittens were quite taken with you. They grow fond of people and decided to glue themselves to certain persons sometimes. They wanted to know if I'd invite you over sometime so they could meet you when they weren't hyperactive. Particularly since you like the berbils and Lion-O and all."
Surprised by this, Panthro gave Bebo another piece of candy and said, "Uh…well…I ain't so good around little kids…Bebo's kinda the exception."
"Bebo want friend Panthro to make new friends," Bebo disagreed. "Panthro is lots of fun." Panthro grunted.
"You'll find they're quite unusual. It would be quite helpful if you would. I confess, I'm also looking for a way to distract them and Cheetara from missing Lion-O, and company might help." Jaga inclined his torso toward Bella as she approached with a bag filled with carefully stacked boxes. "Thank you dear lady."
He paid her and Panthro shrugged. "I guess. They really miss him that bad, do they?"
"Quite. It's hard to watch." Jaga sighed. "I simply thought you might benefit from a visit too."
Knowing what he meant, Panthro crossed his arms. "I don't miss him that bad," he muttered. Jaga's eyebrows rose and Panthro added, "I'll come over sometime. That psychology professor keeps pestering me about getting out of the house anyway."
Jaga seemed strangely knowing as he said, "They'll be excited. Feel free to drop by any evening."
He headed out and Bebo chirped joyfully, "Panthro is making friends like brain doctor said! Yay friends!"
"Eh." Panthro felt surly as he said, "Maybe sometime. I'm not the visiting kind."
"You're kidding!"
"Nope. It's the truth, Zanny. We've broken ten million viewers on Saturday mornings. And that comes with an upgrade."
Lynxana looked around the room with something like wonder. "You are freaking kidding me! We've got a dressing room now?"
"And a new break room. And-" he pulled out two envelopes, "our first raise in two years."
Lynxana grabbed the envelope with her name on it and tore the edges off to slide the check out. Her eyes widened. "Dude! Silvestir, this is crazy!" She threw her arms around the black and white cat and released him, still in awe of the dressing room. There were mirrors and clean floors and counters, make-up kits and the whole nine yards in a swanky blue room.
"Hey, you going after that Rey kid really paid off." He smiled until he saw the unease on her face. "What's up?"
"Well…you're right. But the thing is, he knew enough to get us fired. I mean, he knew about that whole deal with the rehab center…if he hadn't made a deal, we'd be standing in the unemployment line right now," she admitted.
Silvestir shrugged. "Ah, c'mon, so he's a pushover. Any other guy, you'd have bowled him over by now."
Lynxana scoffed, crossing the room to sit in one of the chairs in front of a mirror. "You know as well as I do he's not a pushover. You were there when he gave us his ultimatum. You were about to wet yourself." He reddened and shrugged. "I dunno. I guess I'm just not used to feeling like somebody else got the upper paw. Like…we owe him."
Silvestir cocked his head. "Who are you and what have you done with Zanny?"
"Would you quit? I hate that nickname!" She aimed a kick at his tail and he flicked it out of the way. "I've been in a weird mood lately. All this success is totally hinged on that kid. He's the only reason we are where we are. Anyone else and we'd be down and out." Lynxana planted her chin in her palm and her tail whisked violently. "I hate owing favors. It's all him, not us."
Nudging her, Silvestir said, "I don't get why you're so bugged about him. Is it because he reminds of that ex? Because seriously, he dumped you. You've got to let it go."
"That's not it! I guess I just feel like…" Lynxana trailed off. "Okay. We meet a lot of scumbags in our line of work. But…I don't get that vibe from Lion-O Rey. He just seems like a good kid that's got dealt a crappy paw. Maybe I'm going soft in my 'old age,'" she added sarcastically.
"'Boy next door' type. Give him long enough, he'll do something naughty or illicit. Everyone does," Silvestir said dismissively. "Hurry up, we've got to look over the new information he sent. Have an internal conflict later."
Lynxana got up and followed him out. "Yeah. I guess he'll end up doing something crazy," she said at last. "End up as bad and foul as anyone else."
And for the first time in several years, Lynxana wasn't quite so happy about it. Perhaps the interview was the problem; she'd gotten Lion-O to agree to one on their show just a couple days ago. And it still bothered her.
"Exclusive tonight, we have Lion-O Rey on our show. It's pretty sporting of him to show up, isn't it? Let's give him a paw!" She clapped in a feminine fashion, beaming at the cameras and indicating the lion sitting near her. He didn't rest easily in the chair or grin like a star. He sat uncomfortably, legs uncrossed and back a little stiff. But he looked good in a suit with a red tie, smiling a little at the audience. "So, Mr. Rey. Your succession party was just a couple of weeks ago and other than you having a little bug, it all seemed to go swimmingly. Any thoughts about it?"
"I thought it went well. Everybody seemed to enjoy themselves and plenty of people have spoken well of it. I'm only sorry I had to leave a little early." He had to clear his throat because his voice was high and nervous at first.
"Yes, the opinion was generally favorable. Especially among the non-feline community; tell me, were you aware that you had invited a higher percentage of lizards in particular than any other CEO to date, save perhaps Leo himself?" she asked. She grinned in her dark red lipstick, crossing her legs and knowing the camera would catch the darkness of her skirt and the whiteness of her blouse well in a certain position.
At this Lion-O blinked. "Um. No. I mean, I guess that makes sense, but…I just invited people. People in business. It didn't really occur to me whether they were lizard or not."
"Oh? But you planned a new meal and everything. Even had a table for the kiddos." She indicated the screen behind them on the clean, vibrant wall, and they watched a picture or two of the children – lizards, cats, pups – gathered around their table. And there were even a couple of him helping some of the smaller ones get their plates. "Nothing like posing with kittens to improve popular opinion, right?" she asked teasingly.
Lion-O looked at her and his face was suddenly set. It reminded Lynxana of when he'd told her to leave Cheetara alone. "I wasn't posing," he said quietly. "I didn't even know there were any cameras there at that point. And as for the new meal, I knew there would be different tastes present and I figured it would only be courteous to provide different choices. Whatever species attended."
A slight change was coming over him. He seemed more intent, as if he were putting more focus on her and didn't have any left to worry about being nervous. Lynxana found herself looking at his eyes and noted that they were pretty and bright, and seemed honest.
She hadn't lied when she said she could tell sinners from saints by their eyes. And these were clearer than any she'd seen. Lynxana coughed. "Right. Well, anyway…there have been discussions about you and your relations with non-felines. Some say you're a closet activist for more recognized equality between the species. What do you say to that?"
It was a dangerous question, and if answered wrong – or even right – it could be destructive. But Lion-O just shook his head. "I don't know what you mean by that. If you mean I'm secretly running rallies and stuff, no. But if you mean that I think every person is equal regardless of their hide, then sure. A person is a person, and it's just that simple."
"Ah, but that's different from what a lot of lions have believed. In Sava-Na, there are a lot of people that maintain rather…opposing views." She tilted her head, intrigued by the change that continued to roll over Lion-O. He seemed less and less like a teenage boy and more like a man by the second, and he glanced at the camera.
"I don't judge people by what some members of their family believe. I don't judge them by what their families have done, either. If anyone is looking for some ulterior motive to me being friendly with lizards, they can keep looking. But they're not going to find anything. My mother taught me that people are people, and that's what I believe. She raised me to treat everyone alike because we're all worth the same."
"But what about your father?" Lynxana asked, and even the audience seemed to freeze when Lion-O gave her a look.
"My father raised me and my brother the best he could. I have taken a lot of good lessons from him," he said. And Lynxana moved on because she sensed a danger here.
It was only after the television interview ended and the cameras were off that she leaned back in her chair and said, "Hon, everyone knows your daddy was a bigot. Just like your brother. Just like everyone else is. It isn't tarnishing his name to admit it."
Lion-O was watching the audience trail out but turned his attention to her. "Nobody's perfect."
"Ain't that the truth. But I'd advise you stop using the rose-colored glasses. People don't like a sap. Bad image."
"I'm not a sap. I meant what I said. Just because you've never met someone that was honest with you doesn't meant they aren't around." Lion-O got up. "Like those kids. I didn't know you were there with a photographer. I don't do things like that for audience approval."
Lynxana lifted her eyebrows. "Then why? You sure worked hard to get daddy's approval by going to Ome N. and all that. Why not this?"
His face reddened, but more from shame than anger. "Things like this don't get me any praise. In case you haven't noticed. I just do them. I tried to please Dad and it didn't work out. I've always hated putting on a show.
This didn't satisfy Lynxana. "Yes, but why? I seriously want to know what motivates goody-goodies like you to do goody things. Why do what you do?"
Lion-O shrugged. "I can't answer that. Until you get the concept of just doing what's right because it's right, and being kind because you have the opportunity, I can't help you. And I doubt whether you want me to go into a sermon about second chances and forgiveness for sinners."
She tilted her head. "You're a staunch believer then?"
"Yeah. Mom was. Another good thing she gave me."
"No wonder you ended up with a prude." She stretched and they were on their own in the room when she poked his shoulder, getting up and pacing toward him. "It's just good for her you're willing to put up with her saintly ways. I've only ever had one boyfriend that didn't try to get some as early as he could."
"And that's the ex you're still hung up on years later?"
She stopped. Lion-O was giving her a look so strange that Lynxana's stomach curled. It wasn't angry this time but almost sad. "I feel sorry for you. You don't know the difference between love and lust."
And he meant it. There was a real sorrow in his face. He left after that and Lynxana found herself remembering a time when she did know the difference, and feeling sullen about the fact that the line had indeed blurred.
Lynxana had never met anyone quite like this. She had been turning over his weird comment and pity for a few days, but to buy into his honey-sweet act was not something she was accustomed to. There were always ulterior motives. There were always selfish reasons.
That was why it wasn't a big deal to trash these people in the media. A lot of the time they deserved it.
But she wasn't sure Lion-O did. And that was the problem.
"Fourteen."
He looked at the next one and was quiet for a moment. "Sixty-seven."
Then the next. "Five-point-nine."
Lion-O watched Bengali hammer through the math problems with wonder. Tygra had been the closest thing to a genius he'd ever met even though – technically – Tygra did not have the IQ required for the title. He was just talented and smart and knew how to use it. Even he had to read and try at things. Bengali just looked at the numbers and knew. Some of the problems took longer and some were beyond his knowledge, but he was scanning algebra and trigonometry alike and reading them like Lion-O would read a beloved novel.
The literature segment had not gone nearly as well. He'd sat there trying to read sentences out of Dracula and it took several minutes for him to get through a few paragraphs. His face had been strained, embarrassed, and at last the test giver – Lion-O had called her in for just this purpose – had returned to the math questions. His science was passable and his social studies was abysmal. But when it came to math, Bengali was fantastic.
Pumyra seemed agitated. In fact, she was so bothered by the whole thing that Lion-O had told her to just wait with him and see how Bengali did because frankly she wasn't getting anything done at her desk. She kept pacing, tapping her arm, and at last she muttered, "Why do we have to do this again? This was your idea."
Lion-O watched her in confusion. "I told Bengali we could test him to see just how much math he knows, and it might be better in school for him if teachers can make some adjustments for him. He said okay. He's not happy in school right now and you know it."
"I know! I know…"
Pumyra sat down on the lobby bench with a thump. It was quiet in there today and Bengali sat with the teacher at a desk about five yards away. In conversation lulls it was possible to hear his soft replies. "I just think this is unnecessary. I've always known he was excellent at math. Ever since he was younger he would count things and add them up faster than I could. Heck, when I was his sitter he used to calculate how much I would earn at eight dollars an hour if I saved up sixty percent. He was only five then. He didn't even realize what he was doing."
Lion-O eyed her, wondering if she knew what she was saying or if she was just ranting. "And of course when I adopted him I tried to get him to open up at school, but he still hated it…what if she wants him to skip a grade? He can't handle higher courses in English yet, and what if the kids make fun of him? He takes things to heart."
"You adopted him?" Lion-O asked with some surprise. He couldn't help but think of the kittens; they had e-mailed him to say they'd met Panthro, and that while they thought he was cool, he seemed unnerved. "I thought he was your brother."
Pumyra's mouth stilled and she gave him an irritated look. "I didn't mean to say that. It's a family matter. Anyway…I still don't want him to get teased because of this, or get too much attention. He doesn't like it."
"I get that. But he could do so much with how smart he is. Plenty of brilliant people weren't so good at other subjects, but they excelled in their field." Lion-O looked down at his paws. "I guess kids might tease him if they found out. They tease about everything."
Arms rigid, Pumyra tapped her knees. "I didn't realize he was a genius," she admitted. "Just that he was smart. I suppose I'm just too protective sometimes."
'Sometimes?' he wondered. But there was no time to ask her anything else, for the tester – a pretty white cat with clear, pale blue eyes – stood up and indicated that Bengali should stay where he was. She approached them and Lion-O asked, "Well? How is his math?"
"Perfectly amazing," she said, voice like cotton. "If he gets a proper tutor, he could easily best any mathematician at sixteen. I'm more worried about his English skills. His reading is difficult, and this slows up his learning in other areas. I don't recommend skipping a grade because of it. But the boy's a mathematical genius, no question."
Bengali was sitting in his chair and Lion-O watched as he took his pencil and waggled it back and forth to give it the illusion of being a "rubber pencil," grinning enthusiastically when he succeeded. "So he should be in higher math classes but he needs extra help in other areas?"
"Yes. I'd recommend two tutors if possible, or one that can build his reading skills and then supplement his math classes in school with extra lessons." She paused. "It's a difficult situation, particularly for him. The educational system isn't exactly built for this kind of person. It will be a lot of extra work for him too."
Lion-O watched Bengali again and Pumyra seemed to tense. "A tutor like you're talking about would have to be an expert, probably a professor. That wouldn't be cheap." The white cat shook her head.
"Granted. I just don't think he could handle skipping grades in his other academic areas."
Lion-O rubbed the back of his neck. "Would there be any way to substitute an afterschool tutor's math lessons for a math class at school? Then he could have some reading instruction during the class time for math. If it would help him do better, I'll pay for the tutors."
Pumyra glanced at him. "Mr. Rey, that's all right. We don't accept charity."
The white cat looked between them and Lion-O could sense distress and frustration in Pumyra's posture. "Bengali's my friend. I don't want him to have a miserable time in school." He gestured to Bengali to call him over and the cub got up, shyly drawing close.
"I did pretty good, I think. So…what does this mean?" Bengali asked.
Pumyra flexed her claws as Lion-O said, "You're really good at math, and I was wondering if you'd like me to see if I could hire a special teacher to help you learn the big stuff. And maybe another one to strengthen your reading so you can progress in school even better."
Bengali fiddled with the button on his shirt – little black buttons on white fabric – and said thoughtfully, "I wouldn't mind that, I guess. What do you think Sis? Do you think I'm smart enough?"
Her hard face softened. "Of course you are. I just want you to be happy in school. Some of the kids might not be nice if you're taken out of math class."
He considered this and shrugged. "A lot of them don't like me now. I could try this, and if it doesn't work, could I go back to normal?"
"We'll have about a month's trial period and see if you like it, if that's what you want. It's your decision." Lion-O didn't know whether he'd be made fun of, but he had a gift. It seemed like a shame not to support that. "We'll talk with your principal and teachers if you want to try."
Bengali nodded. "I want to. Maybe this way I'll learn to read better. And then I can be an inventor when I'm older." Pumyra's brows creased, but she just nodded.
"If that's what you want." Even so, Lion-O could tell she was upset about something. Bengali seemed excited though, and that was what he was concerned about.
"Okay. Cool," Bengali said. And that was it. He seemed unaffected by this strangeness, and the fact that he was apparently a genius. Lion-O watched him wobble the pencil back and forth. "Did you know it looks like the pencil is made of rubber if you wave it a certain way?"
Tygra was working at his desk, reviewing the results of the solar labs when Pumyra strode in. "I've got three letters here addressed to you. One is from a group of felines that were present at Lion-O succession celebration, this one is from someone from Tygus University, and this one is from your orthodontist." She put them on the desk and he looked through them. One was interested in a business deal, one was from a fraternity friend, and the orthodontist wanted to check his teeth because he'd had braces a few years ago and tended to avoid checkups whenever he could due to bad memories. They involved sore gums and the taste of latex and, when he was very young, a celery string stuck in the wires.
Nothing good ever happened at the orthodontist's.
He put the envelopes aside, noticing that Pumyra was very angry. She had the tendency to flare her nostrils when in a mood, and right now she looked a little like a catallo ready to kick.
He debated it for a minute, but finally decided to say, "What's wrong? Where's Bengali? Usually he sticks to you like glue."
"With Mr. Rey. He offered to take Bengali home with him for the evening and help him with his English. I didn't want to say yes, but Bengali's…difficult to refuse."
You're wrapped around his claw you mean, Tygra thought. "Don't worry, those two get along fine. Why don't you do something other than fret about Bengali this evening? You were supposed to leave an hour ago."
"I know…I just wanted to finish a few things. And it's closer to the apartment here than at home. I'll just wait around here until Bengali's ready to be picked up if that's all right. My office needs organizing."
And yet she wasn't in it. Tygra watched her pace, looking around and checking her phone for a call. He asked again, "So what's wrong? I thought Bengali's test scores were great. Lion-O wouldn't shut up about how smart the kid is."
"Oh they were. They were phenomenal. I looked at the papers afterward and they were college level, easily." She seemed listless and irritated, leaning on the side of his desk. "But I don't know that I wanted him to get a special tutor or be taken out of math class."
"Why not?"
She gave him a look over her shoulder and he wondered why she didn't let her mane out of its clip more often. It looked better hanging loose around her shoulders. "I should think you would know. Didn't you ever get made fun of as a cub for being in 'smart' classes and because you were different?"
"No. Anytime anyone looked like they were going to start, I'd show them up. Make them feel inadequate. If it was sports, I practiced until I was better than them. If they got one hundred on a test, I got one hundred one. People tend to gather around that kind of ability." He shrugged and logged off the computer, pushing his chair back enough to cross his legs neatly. "I beat them so soundly that anyone that wanted to pick on me would have to face the wrath of my friends and supporters."
Pumyra's brows lifted. "Sounds like you were the bully. You didn't want to succeed to do well, you wanted to succeed and rub it in people's faces."
Tygra paused and considered this. He hadn't really thought of it that way before this. But to be frank, thinking back on a lot of what he'd done…it hadn't been just for the sake of succeeding, but for the sake of pushing his competition into the dirt. It was what he'd liked. What he still liked.
That was…unnerving.
She slouched a bit, looking worried, and the motion surprised him. It was such a far cry from her crisp, professional persona that it didn't look like the same woman for a moment. "Well, Bengali isn't like that. He wears his heart on his sleeves, and he's very gentle and humble. Not to mention…he's not got much self-confidence. Or a bullying perfectionist complex for that matter. If anyone makes fun of him, he'll take it to heart. And he's very modest."
"It'll help him get a little tougher then. Lion-O ended up okay, and he was made fun of for everything from his cartoon obsession to his birthmark."
Pumyra cocked her head. "Birthmark?"
Tygra nodded. "Yeah, he's got this one spot where his fur is practically blond because there's a birth mark right under it. It's below the small of his back, right on his-"
"Too much information." Pumyra's voice was flat.
Tygra examined his claws. "Yes, well, you can imagine he was made fun of in the locker rooms when he had to shower. And that's not even scratching the surface. He didn't trip through puberty, he crashed through it. If he can make it through being made fun of all the time, Bengali can survive a little while."
Blinking, Pumyra asked, "You were popular in school?" When he nodded she said, "Then who dared pick on Lion-O since he was your brother?"
Tygra paused and glanced down, wondering that himself. "I don't know. I guess I never said anything to back him up when we were younger." He felt an uncomfortable thickness in his chest then, and it took a second to recognize guilt. "Going to call me an awful person?"
"It's in the past. Besides, you might 'fire me,'" she said sarcastically.
"Empty threat. Seriously, don't worry so much. There's no way Bengali will get picked on as much as Lion-O. He'll be all right. No reason to be held back by everyone else when you're smarter than they are."
"He's only smarter in math. But I suppose it's true that I want him to do his best." She did not seem overly cheered.
"So what else is wrong? We've established this is best for the kid," Tygra said. Pumyra's claws rapped against the desk and she paced rigidly.
"Maybe. But if such tutors are expensive, I'll feel as if I owe Thunder Enterprises even more. And I'd rather not owe more than I can repay."
He chewed on this mentally. "You do quite a bit around here. The whole company has benefitted from your work." But her discomfort suddenly made sense. In a way, Pumyra was similar to himself in that she didn't want to receive what she hadn't earned. And her blunt honesty was somehow…refreshing.
Then again, how much has she done behind the scenes for all of us?
Tygra shrugged. "Just think of it as payment and investment if you must. You've done good work for Dad and for us, and Bengali's helping a lot with that generator thing. Maybe one day he'll end up working here. It's hardly an act of charity; we can't hire a kid that young, so extra schooling to help him is…kind of a loophole that allows us to provide a benefit for his help."
Pumyra paused and he could see the wheels turning as she chewed her lip. "I…suppose you're right. I didn't think of it that way."
He smirked. "You're welcome."
She quirked an eyebrow. "I don't recall thanking you."
"Even so." He checked his watch with a flick of his wrist. "Seriously, get out of here. Go do something fun. Shop or whatever."
"I loathe shopping with no purchase in mind." She put her chin in her paw. "I might go to the gym. Hit something. That makes me feel better."
"Should Lion-O be concerned for his safety?" Tygra asked.
"Oh no. Not if he remembers not to let Bengali have caffeine after six. Are you leaving soon, Mr. Rey?" Pumyra watched him get up and stretch.
"Probably. Actually, I haven't been to the gym in a couple of weeks," he mused. "That's not a bad idea." He gave himself a once over and decided that, while still in shape, he had to get back into his habit of hitting the gym more often. Pumyra glanced at him, eyes following the contour of his back with mild interest. "Do you need a ride there?"
Pumyra lifted her gaze. "No thank you. I drove."
"The gym is in the opposite direction of your home. You have to drive further than I do. Come on, I could use a sparring partner," he said. "If you know any martial arts, we can use one of the wrestling mats as an arena. I'll drop you off back here so you don't waste gas." Pumyra's mouth twisted in amusement.
"You want to fight a girl?" He smirked.
"I'll go easy on you."
"Ooh, how very nice," she said, rolling her eyes. "Very well, I suppose I'll take you up on that offer if you know how to box." Surprised by this, Tygra agreed
That evening he discovered two things. First was that, in spite of the fact that she was rather unpleasantly tough and barbed, Pumyra had nice legs. She wore shorts and a tank top when exercising, and the shorts showed off her calves.
The second was that she could put a hurting on him in a way that was probably going to ache for three days. It turned out that her father had been a military man and if he knew how to do one thing, it was fight.
"Cheetara! Come here! Hurry up!"
She nearly dropped the froog and it protested with a croak. Dumping it gently into its tank and grimacing as she stripped off her slimy gloves, Cheetara threw them in the plastic bin and washed her paws, dashing into the sitting room without drying them. "What is it? Did you hurt yourself Kit?"
"No! Look at the T.V. Cheetara!" She pointed excitedly and Cheetara felt a faint burst of annoyance for being made to worry by her screaming. But when she saw the screen the annoyance faded completely.
Lion-O was on the screen. So was Lynxana, in a skirt so short that Cheetara was afraid she might see the woman's underwear if she shifted wrong. But Lion-O looked handsome in a suit and tie, fur neat and face set. The lights hit him well and Cheetara found her breath gone for a second; he was saying something about how "people were people," and it was so good to hear his voice when it wasn't distorted by the crackle of the phone.
"It's Lion-O!" Kat had come in and grabbed her arm excitedly. "Wow…he looks like a boss, doesn't he?"
She nodded. Jaga drew up behind them – she knew because she smelled his mug of tea – and the four just watched him and listened to the interview play.
"…And here is Mr. Rey being a pal to the kittens. For the first time kids had their own table. Sweet sight isn't it?" The picture showed Lion-O helping two small cubs get plates and his face seemed pleasant, smiling. Cheetara felt Kit wiggle.
"Man…I wish we coulda gone. Stupid news lady," she mumbled. "It's no fair that she gets to see him."
Cheetara just stroked Kit's mane. "He looks nice in a suit, doesn't he?"
"Uh huh. Cute." Kit grinned and elbowed her. "I'll bet he'd wear one around here if you asked him to."
Lynxana and Lion-O's talk ended and a commercial came on. Staring at the screen as if she could will Lion-O back onto it, Cheetara sighed. "At least he looks like he's doing all right. I worry about him. Tygra moved out of the apartment, and now it's only Snarf with Lion-O when he goes home."
"Why did Tygra move out?" Kat asked, moving from her side to the sofa. Lion-O hadn't told her all the reasoning – though she'd inferred a good deal from what he had mentioned – and Cheetara just shook her head.
"I think they both need some space from each other. Sometimes siblings are like that." Kat and Kit exchanged glances at this foreign concept and Jaga eyed her knowingly. "Thanks for telling us Kit."
Frowning, Kit put her paws on her hips. "I think you oughta call him. He's trying to call more, but he gets busy."
"I don't want to bother him if he has work to do," Cheetara disagreed.
"But Lion-O likes it when you interrupt him. C'mon…just call him. Please? Me and Kat won't even bother you; you can talk to him all yourself this time." Kit stuck out her lower lip and mewled. "Please?"
Cheetara sighed. "In a bit. When it's evening and he's most likely off work."
She returned to the froog and tried to coax it out from under the little log in its tank so she could finish giving it some medication, barely noticing as it croaked and wiggled in her gloved fingers. It was nice to see Lion-O, but for a minute she'd almost managed to worry about work more than him, only to be yanked right back. She sighed.
"Kat, Kit? Not to be a downer, but have you two cleaned your room? I told you that Mr. Fides is coming over, didn't I?" she called. A couple of indistinct voices told her their room was still a mess, and she finally succeeded in getting the froog to down its medication. "That'll put the spring back in your step," she murmured. Then she took off her gloves again, stopped by the bathroom to wash her paws, and ended up in the kittens' room with both of them, picking up toys with them.
"Sorry Cheetara. I just got real excited when I saw Lion-O on the T.V." Kit was abashed but Cheetara just shook her head.
"I understand. And I don't expect him to tour the house; I just want it clean in case."
Cheetara had been surprised when Panthro had actually agreed to visit. Jaga had said the cat hadn't looked too open to the idea, but perhaps he was really softhearted deep down as Lion-O said. Then again, Jaga had influence on many without really knowing it. Or maybe Panthro missed Lion-O too and was looking for distraction.
She pushed it out of her mind. All that mattered was that there was a guest coming over and she hoped the kittens behaved themselves. "Remember, no mentioning the fact that you're not legally adopted. I don't think it'll come up, and frankly, I don't think he'd care. But I'd rather keep that quiet."
"We got it. But I think you're right. Panthro doesn't seem like he'd care. I like him. He was real nice to Bebo last time we saw him." Kit tugged at the hem of her skirt and jumped when she heard the doorbell. "He's here! Cool!" She walked with Cheetara to answer the door, pouting when Jaga beat them there. The older cat paused before the door, straightening his black sweater.
"Please don't inform him about anything that might particularly embarrass Lion-O or anyone else. It's generally polite to let someone reveal that sort of thing personally," Jaga said.
Kat bounced in behind them. "Y'mean like the time you took too much allergy medicine and put on Cheetara's sweater and fell asleep in the bathroom?"
Jaga bristled. "Really now, it was one time…! I hardly make a habit of such things. Can't we just forget that ever happened?"
The kittens giggled and Cheetara's lips parted in a sly grin. "Forget what?" He rolled his eyes and answered the door.
Panthro looked a little awkward standing in their entryway. He had jeans and a button-up blue shirt on, fairly informal, but his face plainly said, "I'd rather be facing a CEO and government official than be here because kids scare me." He glanced at the kittens who waved, and lifted a paw. "Er…hi."
"Hi! Lion-O always told us you were a good teacher and that you liked berbils, and we wanted to talk to you when we weren't totally nuts, so we begged Jaga to invite you over!" Kit said all this quickly, but Panthro just scratched his head. "So…what made ya decide to come over?"
Jaga herded him in and he muttered, "Eh…Lion-O asked me to come check on you guys in his last e-mail. He knew I'd met you somehow…"
Cheetara caught a glimpse of the kittens smiling at each other with curled lips. "So I figured I'd up sticks and come visit. Jaga's been filling up my inbox with invites," he added, and Jaga nodded slightly.
"Persistence is often rewarded I find. Besides, I was fascinated by a few of Lion-O's engineering textbooks, and I'd quite like to learn a little more about them…"
In truth, Cheetara wasn't exactly sure why it had felt so important to get Panthro to visit. He seemed tough and distant, although nice enough in his own way, but even she wanted to have him over. Was it because he was connected to Lion-O? That wasn't the only reason, although it was a big one.
They just felt something. The kittens did, that is. They had a peculiar sense of people, able to figure out who was nice and who wasn't. And for some reason they liked Panthro. And Lion-O had as well.
Kat chattered at him all through dinner about whether or not he made robots. Panthro just sat there like a tied wire that was about to snap, nervously replying in short sentences. He hadn't been kidding when he said children were out of his depth. But Kat and Kit just took it all in stride and let Jaga chat with him about how Ome N. was changing and what he thought of the students. To this he took well, actually able to discuss the matter without being unnerved.
Cheetara was torn between wanting to mention Lion-O and not wanting to. She didn't want to seem clingy and upset, but at the same time Panthro had been in contact with Lion-O because of Thundrillium. Lion-O didn't mention business very much because he didn't want the kittens to know about any problems, so this left her mostly out of the loop. And she worried.
Dinner was pasta with pieces of beef in the cheese sauce with a salad on the side. It was funny to watch Panthro fiddle with his salad fork; Cheetara imagined he didn't eat much other than "manly" foods by the way he favored the meat in the pasta. "So…has the kid been calling you guys? I feel like he's worried people are bothering you. I think he wanted me to check it out around here because I've seen the press before."
Cheetara nodded. "He mentioned that you got rid of them once. Thank you." She smiled faintly. "Did you really come over because he asked you to check on us?"
He shrugged. "You're nice folks, Lion-O wanted me to…he sent me some Thundrillium and I owe him a favor. So I felt obligated."
"Lion-O sent you Thundrillium? What's it look like?" Kit asked.
"Pink. And shiny. And…glow-y." Panthro paused and gave the kittens an uneasy look. "I don't have any on me, so don't ask."
"Aw," Kat pouted. "Whiskers. I wanted to see some." He perked up. "Hey, can you bring some over whenever you visit again?"
"Kiddo, this is one-time thing. I'm not a very sociable person," he muttered. Kit stuck out her lower lip.
"Aren't you having fun?" At her reproachful tone Panthro's eyebrows lowered and he shifted.
"Look, you're cute kids. But I'm a sour old geezer. I know you miss Lion-O, but I'm no replacement for him."
Kat's ears drooped. "We're not trying to replace him. We just thought maybe you'd like us 'cause you liked him too," he mumbled.
Panthro looked a little abashed but Cheetara intervened. "What I think he's trying to say is that he's not as comfortable around kittens as Lion-O was, and he's not sure you'd have as much fun with him as you did with Lion-O," Cheetara explained. "And he doesn't want you guys to be disappointed." Panthro looked relieved when the kittens perked up again.
"Oh. But you're a teacher. I thought you'd see kids all the time."
"For adults," Panthro corrected. "It's mainly adults that come to college."
"I guess. But me and Kat are real smart for our age. And you hang out with Bebo. He's funny."
Panthro shrugged a shoulder. "Yeah. He's a card. But I've known him since he was born."
"Really? When was that?" Kit asked, leaning in and swishing her tail with interest.
"Oh, about four years ago…let's see, I think it was last year I helped fix his elbow…"
Cheetara watched in wonder as Kat and Kit worked Panthro into a full on conversation, chatting with him like two little adults. She met Jaga's amused eyes and shook her head. It seemed that Panthro, whether he liked it or not, was being drawn into the group of "nice people" as the kittens called them.
They were something else. Cheetara shook her head and took another bite. If they'd had Lion-O with them – and Tygra and Snarf too – it would have been a perfect evening. But to have someone new with them – someone as fond of Lion-O as they – was pleasant, and she would take it and settle for calling Lion-O later.
Over the next month things didn't change too much.
The tutor was hired and Bengali said that it was nice to get out of math class to get help on his English and literature. And the math tutor didn't make him write every single step, only important ones. "No more rewriting the equation when I add two," Bengali said happily. "It's not boring now. I get to graph and everything!"
This was good news at least. Bengali being happy was pretty much the biggest perk for the while. Because Vultaire was still annoying, work was moving desperately slow, Lion-O couldn't see Cheetara on her birthday, and Snarf was depressed and lonely at home when Lion-O worked late.
Lion-O didn't trust Vultaire at all by this point, but he was always cordial to him. Tygra frankly refused to even look at the bird which meant Lion-O was the only one that could put up with the complaints Vultaire raised. It helped to know that the team was working on their own prototype with Bengali, but it was frustrating that they had to go so slowly on the "official" machine. But on evenings when Vultaire left, Lion-O sometimes brought Snarf to the building with him and helped the team work on their secret project, feeling a little excited by the idea that it was something he could be sure Mumm-Ra didn't know about.
"Why don't you just ship him back to Mumm-Ra?" one of the physicists asked. "He's slowing us down on purpose I think."
"Because image is everything. And like it or not, I owed Mumm-Ra a favor." Lion-O was grim about it, but the recent interview with Lynxana assured him that Mumm-Ra was viewed well by the public, and to insult him would be hazardous. At any rate, he was content for the official generator's progress to lag if it meant they could work on their other project in peace. He'd never been very deceptive, but Lion-O found that it was easier than expected to "forget to mention" the generator to Vultaire.
Panthro had sent him an e-mail about Thundrillium recently, and Lion-O had been unable to curb his curiosity; he'd used a machine to shock a very small piece of Thundrillium. Taking Panthro's notes into account he shocked it repeatedly throughout the night and was intrigued to find that it kept glowing all through the night, and he wished he could monitor the energy better and utilize it.
Then again, that's what the generator was for.
Lion-O found Bengali loved working on the machine and learning. He often found time to sneak over to the research building to oversee things and slip notes about ideas to Bengali, and therefore his researchers. Vultaire was none the wiser, fiddling with his little machine. Lion-O tried to get that one in shape for the sake of inspection, in case any government officials ever came to check on their progress, but it was difficult to balance everything he was trying to do. Work was a game of getting things done on time and continuing to push his plans forward.
Tygra was acting weird lately. He tended not to talk to Lion-O much anymore, which was strangely all right. He was quite tolerable when he wasn't sniping. It left Lion-O plenty of time to worry about the company and the employees and keeping Palustri and Vultaire happy. This did put a strain on his communication with Cheetara and the rest of the Cleras. Cheetara preferred telephone conversation, so he tried to call her as often as he could, but this was difficult. He was wiped out every day he went home after meeting demands and complaints and working several extra hours on the machinery. All he could do was call Cheetara, and sometimes he started falling asleep even as he tried to talk to her. He was upset by this, but exhaustion was common now for him. She understood, but he knew she deserved better from him.
Something would have to give. He was playing too many parts, addressing too many demands. The media seemed more apt to criticize lately than anything, calling him reckless and juvenile, and Lion-O often felt they were right.
But there was nothing to be done.
"Very nice. Much better than that ridiculous thing we've got with Vultaire. Oh, that wire goes here." The cat took the tendril from him and plugged it in. "Right. So you said it has to be shocked every two hours to keep up an output?"
"That's what both I and my confidant have found. So the current would have to shock it to keep up an energy output for longer than two hours. I still don't know how much it can register, which is why we need to finish this as soon as possible. Otherwise there'll be no telling if it can power a blender or a country"
"Granted." The cat was adjusting a few things and Lion-O observed the machine with pride. It was about three feet long and wide, and the plans were for it to end up being about four feet tall. It was to be a prototype, a monitor and harnesser of electrical energy. It would take probably all of their six months to finish it but there was nothing to be done about that other than work overtime to keep progress going.
The sound of the door opening and shutting made Lion-O stiffen and jolt upwards. But he relaxed after seeing the familiar white fur and black stripes; Bengali was carrying his backpack and coming toward them. Lion-O had ordered the employees in the lobby of the research building to send a message up if Vultaire or anyone else showed up, but it was still a relief when Bengali sat down on the floor beside them. "Hey. How was school?" he asked. Bengali shrugged and stared down at the blueprints. This in itself was strange, as Bengali usually began to babble enthusiastically about his day. "Did you learn anything?"
Bengali nodded and kept his head down. Lion-O squinted at him. "What's the matter? Don't you want to talk about them?"
The cub shook his head and wordlessly seemed to focus harder on the pages. Lion-O caught his arm and said, "Hey, what's up?" Bengali blinked and to Lion-O's chagrin, his eyes were puffy and red. He sniffed. "Bengali, what's wrong?"
Bengali swallowed which seemed to help his eyes dry. And he put his backpack aside, shuffling a little closer to Lion-O. Sensing a need for a private chat, the other worker slipped away to join the group on the other side of the room. They were trying to make sense of Vultaire's convoluted notes. "Y'know how I have to take different classes now because I'm seeing my tutors?" he asked softly. His voice was raspier than ever.
Lion-O nodded. "Look, if they're too hard I'll tell them to lighten up. Or we can make things normal again, it's still just a test period-"
"No, no…I like the classes. And the tutor on Saturdays really helps me too. I love math class now, and I'm already a better reader. But…everybody in my old math class at school said I dropped out of it because I'm retarded and I can't add. They already call me slow because I can't read very fast."
Lion-O stared at him. "…What?"
Bengali wiped his eyes. "I know I should ignore them, but I just can't. They're mean, and I don't like being called retarded. I don't like making fun of people just because they might not learn as fast."
Lion-O was at a loss for words. He'd been made fun of in school, but to made fun of because the other kids didn't realize just how brilliant Bengali was? "Bengali…that just shows how stupid they are. Because you're a hundred times better at math than any of them will ever be. Just because you're not a fast reader doesn't mean you're not smart. And that's a classless word. 'Retarded.'" He threw down the wrench he was holding and stood up. "Which kids are these, anyway? I think I'll call the principal and report this."
"No! Lion-O, it won't do anything! They'll still think I'm dumb and they'll still pick on me, only they'll be mad because they got in trouble!" Bengali jumped up and tugged on his arm. "It doesn't matter, I just…I dunno, I was upset. But it doesn't matter."
Lion-O glared at him. "Bengali, I was picked on from sixth grade on. I was called Shorty, Gingersnap, Firecracker, and a bunch of other names. I've gotten swirlies, rubber band burns and had my lunch stolen. I've been publicly humiliated by tripping and upending a snack table. I was harassed on a daily basis. And you know what? I told my dad. You know what he did? Nothing. He just told me to suck it up and make sure I didn't get into any trouble. I know how bad it can get. There is no way I'm letting you put up with this stupidity like I did. These bullies aren't getting away with this. They're going to find out there are consequences for their actions."
Realizing his voice had been rising, Lion-O cleared his throat, waiting for the echo to fade from the room. "Anyway. Don't worry about this." Bengali blinked when Lion-O put a paw on his shoulder. "I'll handle it."
"Ah…Mr. Rey. Not to interrupt, but we just got a call. Palustri's headed up with Concolo. Did you want to hide the you-know-what?" Lion-O immediately glanced at the door. He straightened his shirt and pulled on his suit jacket.
"Okay, out in the main room. Lock the door behind us so they can't peek in here without a key. And make sure all the plans in there are Vultaire's." He headed out to the main lab, cringing at the sight of Vultaire's generator, and looking as calm as possible when the door swung open only a second after he heard the lock behind him click.
"Mr. Rey. I'm afraid we have some bad news," Concolo said, nodding respectfully as he followed Palustri at a slower, gentler stride. The younger cat seemed to smirk at something. Lion-O shut his eyes and prayed for strength; he was in a bad mood already.
"According to a letter we just received, due to some complaints from members of the city that live within the vicinity of this building, our research time is being cut to three months instead of six," Palustri announced, handing Lion-O a crisp white page. Lion-O scanned it, brows knitting with disbelief.
"They can do that? Go back on their word so easily?" he asked. His hackles rose and his temper flared a little more.
"It's the government," Concolo muttered. A little louder he said, "Apparently they dislike the private sector fiddling with such an obscure element, and because it is uncertain as to whether Thundrillium releases toxic radiation-"
"It doesn't!" Lion-O snapped, biting his tongue when Palustri scowled at him.
"-Regardless, they have cut the permits' validation by half. We…have a little over thirty days to complete the generator and reveal our next steps for utilization. Then we have to return any unused samples if our progress is found unsatisfactory." Concolo peered at the "official" generator and Lion-O gave it a look himself.
It looked horrible really, wire exposed and several places joined so haphazardly that it looked more like a science experiment than anything else. Bengali shifted behind him and growled. "That's not fair. That's like promising you have a week to do a project and then saying you only three days after two!"
"I'm afraid that's the way the real world works, squirt." Palustri prowled around the generator, giving it a distasteful examination. "Nothing a few 'geniuses' can't figure out, I'm sure," he said with the sweetness of aspartame. "We wanted to report it to you in person. Don't shoot the messenger."
Concolo's low voice moved lower. "Palustri. I should warn you that you sound a little irreverent." The other paused in his circling of the generator and cleared his throat. Lion-O handed him the letter and broodingly stared at the machine.
"Fine. Thanks. We'll…make do. What about the solar studies?"
Concolo shook his head. "No, it's all fine. Nothing dangerous so we can continue researching those as we please."
Of course. Right. Lion-O raked his fingers through his mane. "Thanks Concolo. I'll…I'll see what I can do. Thank you for telling me."
Palustri snorted. "I get no thanks?"
Lion-O threw him a filthy glance. "You can go now. Before I lose my temper would be best."
Funnily enough it was Palustri that hurried out the door first, Conoclo striding after him. It was only after the door shut that Lion-O hissed, clamming up for a second. Bengali helpfully offered him his backpack and Lion-O buried his face in it.
"Whis-keeeeeers!" It felt good to scream at first. But finally his head started to ache and he lifted his mouth from the rough fabric and sighed, giving it back to Bengali. "If it's not one thing it's another," he said at last, noting that the researchers were muttering amongst themselves. Bengali peeped over the top of his backpack at him as he paced, claws twitching over his mane in frustration. "So we've got…er, thirty-three days to get one of these things up and running. It's got to show enough promise to get the permits back so we can make a real generator. And we have to put up with Vultaire, and keep the public interested, and I've got to make the stockholders happy enough with their dividends to keep them around…and the whole rest of the company needs running. Fantastic."
He sat down on the ground. "I think…I need to head out. Clear my head." Bengali shuffled his feet and he added, "Hey, if you want to come over you can."
Bengali shook his head. "No. I want to work on the generator. But I'll see you downstairs."
"We'll do what we can, Mr. Rey," one of the cats called. "But Vultaire's working this week. Would you like one of us to schedule time after his shift to work on our generator?"
"Yeah. That'd be great." Bengali followed him out and Lion-O just nursed the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lose my temper," he told the cub.
Bengali just carried his backpack in his paw. "You have to worry about real problems. I was whining about a couple of bullies," he said thoughtfully.
"Hey, bullies are problems. And they aren't going to get away with what they're doing. Have you told Pumyra about them?"
Bengali shook his head vigorously. "Nope. I don't want her to worry or get mad. She's got enough to deal with. So do you."
Lion-O sighed and paused in the hall to give Bengali a one-armed hug. "Don't let them get you down okay? I'll figure out some way to get them to stop. It might take time is all." Bengali hugged back with gusto, cutting off his last word a bit. Bengali was even more of a hugger than the kittens, and Lion-O again felt that protective roar in his heart. He had defended the Cleras and he would find a way of protecting Bengali. Somehow.
Snarf got to pick dinner that night since Lion-O had felt neglectful the past few weeks. With a happy flick of his tail, Snarf had entered the favorites list on Lion-O's computer at home and selected a chili recipe. Lion-O patted Snarf's back wearily and said, "Sounds like the berbil recipe. You surf the web while I'm gone?"
"Snar-Snarf." "Sometimes, if there's nothing on television and I get tired of reading and walking around the apartment."
Lion-O was a passable cook at this point and had mixed up the chili pasta, pleasing Snarf to no end. And, since he had left early enough that he wasn't completely exhausted, Lion-O took the opportunity to dial a familiar number.
"Hello?"
He sighed. "You have no idea how good it feels to hear you."
"Lion-O! Hey! Did you get away from the office early?" Cheetara sounded so happy that his toes curled instinctively as he sat on the couch, files beside him and forgotten for a while.
"Yeah. More from bad news than good, but it's nice to get out of there." He revealed to her the state of the generator, the cutting of the permit's time and all the rest. He even went into Bengali's bullying. In turn she told him about what Panthro was up to, the fact that the kittens were getting attached to the panther, and the resulting amusement. The veterinary clinic was fine but things were slow, and they all still missed him terribly. It felt good to talk to each other so long, and he sighed.
"So…I've said this already but happy birthday. The big two-one."
Cheetara laughed. "Yep. And I feel the same way I always have."
Lion-O just lay there on the couch, Snarf sitting on his stomach and purring. "I like hearing you laugh," he said. He imagined her smile and shut his eyes. "So…what were you wanting for your birthday? I wanted to send a present, but I wasn't sure what you might want…and it's been so hectic."
"Don't worry, I get it. I've still got the roses you sent. I think I'm going to press a couple of them in a book to dry them. Something to look back on. And I don't really want anything for my birthday. Well, nothing material anyway. Things like world peace aren't exactly feasible for one person."
Lion-O grinned. "I guess not. But isn't there anything? Maybe you need something for the clinic? Come on, anything."
"No, really…I just can't think of anything." She was quiet for a second. "This is going to sound so childish. But…maybe if you could visit for just a couple days, that would be the only thing I have any interest in."
He opened his eyes, quietly considering this. The corners of his eyes burned. "I really want to. Really. But I'm afraid to leave Vultaire here with the generator. I just don't trust him. And they cut our research time to three months instead of six, and…agh, people are crazy. Did I tell you what happened with my Dad's cousin, Sinhal?"
"No. What's wrong?"
"Long story short, he told me there were some lionesses about my age he wanted me to meet and consider marrying because they want me to sire a kid as soon as possible. Oh, and there's a fifteen-year-old lioness too, but that's frowned upon in Thundera, so apparently I shouldn't go that route," he added sarcastically.
"That's…crazy. How weird. Sava-Na isn't all like that, is it?" she asked, bewildered.
"No. No…not even all the Reys are quite like that anymore. But the only ones that come here are the lunatics that want to continue the line a certain way." Lion-O sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt you. Or go off on a tangent. It just made me mad."
"I understand. You have to deal with a lot of strange people." She seemed a little reserved and Lion-O tried to figure out why.
"You know…I don't care what he thinks, right? I love you, and I'm going to keep dating you even if he throws a royal fit. He can get over it."
"I know." Lion-O pondered her request and then sat up.
"Hey…what if I brought you guys here for a week? You can find temporary help to take care of the clinic, can't you?"
"Oh, I don't know Lion-O. I mean…I'd love to, but…that would be a lot of money," she said, a little alarmed.
"Not that much. After all you've done for me it's the least I can do! Yeah, you could have a weeklong vacation seeing the sights here and we'll all spend time together, and I'll show you all the nice parts of Pantherle," he said, feeling enthusiastic for the first time in days.
"Lion-O…that's really sweet, but there's a problem. Jaga mentioned it just the other day. The kittens haven't technically been adopted, and if security asked to see any form of ID proving they were with us, there might be a problem," Cheetara said quietly. Lion-O's excitement slowly drained out of him. The reality of this hit him in the stomach.
"Oh. Right. I forgot. I wouldn't want you to risk it then. Well, maybe I can figure out a few days coming up where I can come see you guys…" he trailed off.
Cheetara sighed. "I don't want to take you away from your work. It's like everything is trying to keep us apart."
"Yeah." Lion-O felt the warmth of the phone against his cheek and there was quiet on both ends. "…I miss you," he admitted. "I think about you all the time."
"Same here," she said. "I keep thinking you're going to walk in with Snarf and make the evening fun. I thought it'd become a little easier after a while, or at least more tolerable. But it just feels worse."
Lion-O's ears drifted back, miserable. "Think it would be any easier if we'd…y'know. Stayed friends?"
"No. No, that wouldn't help." Cheetara sounded wryly amused. "Then I would have the added regret of not telling you how I feel."
"Ah. Yeah, I guess so." Of course Cheetara would note that. She was the smart one when it came to things like that. Lion-O just sighed again. "We'll figure something out. I love you guys so much."
"We love you too. Tell me…was Tygra mad that I interrupted him that day the kittens called?"
Lion-O rolled his eyes. "I told him you only did it because he kept downing me. He wasn't mad at you, more at me. We haven't been talking much lately but I'm not sure why. I'm thinking I must have said something while I was…well, you know."
"I know you told me he moved out. Maybe that's for the best. A little space seems to have done you both some good." She paused and he heard someone calling from the background. "Oh…Lion-O, Jaga needs help in the examination room. Do you want me to get the kittens? They're napping right now."
"At the same time?" he asked bemusedly.
"Candyfruit. They begged, we caved. Only took eight hours to wear off."
"No, I'll talk to them later. It was nice to talk to you though. Love you."
"Love you too." She blew a kiss into the phone and Lion-O hung up the phone when the dull buzz of an ended call started. Snarf crawled up his chest and curled up happily, letting Lion-O rest his chin on the furry creature's back as he opened the folders and started reading through them.
"Snarf-Snarf-Snarf. Snarf?"
Lion-O shrugged. "I don't know. I really want to send her something nice. But she doesn't like flashy things. I wish I could bring them down here for a visit."
Snarf sighed and flicked his tail. Lion-O leaned on the armrest and asked, "Do you think sending some money to help save up for another clinic would be considered flashy? Too much?"
"Snarf-Snarf."
"Yeah, I guess so. Do you think we'll get this done? The generator I mean." Snarf nodded firmly, purring against his jugular. Lion-O squirmed and leaned his head back against the cushions. "Sorry I've been leaving you here so much. Maybe we can clear out some time on a weekend coming up. After the month is up, succeed or fail."
Snarf smacked his chin with a tiny paw, meowing disapproval. Lion-O smiled. "Sorry, succeed then." A little smirk rolled over Snarf's mouth and he rubbed up against his owner again, purring.
Lion-O scratched Snarf's head right behind his ears, and rested his eyes and listened to the sound of purring until he fell asleep sitting up on the couch, even as early in the evening as it was.
Tygra shook his head, glad for the protective headgear from the gym and his mouth guard. Pumyra was smaller than him but she could hurt somebody. Including him.
To be honest he never tried to hit her face even when they boxed. Even though it was Lion-O that was the softhearted one, Tygra didn't feel comfortable trying to hit a girl in general, let alone one he regarded on relatively friendly terms. That was why he preferred the wrestling to boxing; it was more about knocking the person down and pinning them than actually making blows connect. Even so, Pumyra was a formidable opponent that couldn't be knocked down just by his greater weight and height.
Their paws met and she growled; they were pushing against each other, trying to knock the other back, and the advantage was his. Tygra would have grinned if his teeth were free. Pumyra must have seen the glint of victory in his eye, for her brows lowered and with a sudden pull, she overbalanced him. As he went down Tygra tightened his grip on her paws, but instead of tripping forward Pumyra kicked off the mat and flipped over him, landing with her back on his. It was an aerobic little maneuver and quite unexpected. He grunted and finally released her fingers, letting her bend her wrists, and spat out his mouth guard. "I think you bruised my ribs."
"That or your pride," she said in a muffled voice. Pumyra rolled off and stood up, offering him a paw that he waved away, getting up stiffly. She shrugged and spat out her mouth guard.
"I have to admit that you're the only other person than a trainer that's ever bested me…even if it was cheap." He stretched a little, fingering the spot on his torso that burned, and decided it was only a little sore.
"What I lack in brawn I'll make up for in brain. Besides, I think we're even now. You beat me at benching by about sixty pounds-" she mused, removing her headgear.
"Sixty-four," he corrected. She rolled her eyes.
"Fine, sixty-four. And we were even in sprinting on the track. You won't box with me because you refuse to punch me in the face, and I don't count gymnastics as a win because you're afraid of what the uneven bars will do to your masculinity."
"Not to mention you suck at them too," Tygra added. The mat was abandoned and she followed him to the bench where they kept their duffel bags. Both withdrew water bottles and drank deeply. "So. What other athletic endeavors should we try?" he asked.
"I'm pretty tired. You'll have to live with being on equal ground with me instead of dominating the competition as you prefer. I need to pick Bengali up," Pumyra said, wiping her face with a clean towel from her bag. Tygra wouldn't admit it but he was disappointed; Pumyra was fun to work out with. Not to mention he didn't mind the occasional glimpse of cleavage from her tank top.
Hey, he was male. He didn't make a habit of looking, just noticed it when the shirt dipped.
The one evening at the gym had developed into a couple evenings every week. He'd noticed a marked improvement in her irritation levels, possibly because they were busy enough that she didn't have time to fret about Bengali. Lion-O liked being able to spend time with the naïve little oddball, Pumyra had a life, and Tygra had somebody to exercise with. It worked well enough.
He'd left a lot of friends behind at Tygus University. They kept in touch and he was social enough around here to have plans most of the time, but he was never very close to anyone. Pumyra was honest and refreshing, and he got the idea that she genuinely liked him. Even though she also thought he was egotistical and liked to show off. She seemed to like him anyway and for that he enjoyed the company.
Pumyra closed her cell phone. He looked at as she said, "Bengali's ready whenever. I'm beginning to think Mr. Rey is his only friend anymore."
"Your phone is prehistoric." It actually had to be opened. Tygra wiped his face and sighed. "Besides, birds of a feather. They're alike in some ways."
"I know. But I want him to have younger friends too. It's not healthy for a boy to only be around adults." She picked up her duffel bag and Tygra got to his feet.
"Lion-O's a kid at heart." She didn't agree or disagree with this, shouldering her bag as they headed out, leaving their gear in the used bin to be cleaned later. "He's a bad adult but a good kid."
To this she did object. "I think he's fine as an adult. Just a little idealistic. He's handling the generators pretty well so far. Not to mention Vultaire."
"Not really. We've gotten our time cut for Thundrillium, and the generator's prototype isn't finished yet." The air was brisk and cool as they left, heading down the stairs. The buildings around them were small and neat, overshadowed by the gym and its precise, clean bricks and lines. Pumyra pulled on her jacket whereas Tygra liked the feeling of the cold wind. "I'm just saying that if I were the boss, we wouldn't be in this situation."
Pumyra didn't answer until they got into the car and he'd started it. "That's true. You'd probably run things just the same as Mr. Claudus Rey. For better or worse."
He glanced at her. "What's that mean?"
She shrugged. "Just an observation. Sometimes change is good, sometimes it isn't. But if a company never changes it gets destroyed or surpassed completely. Your father was a good CEO but he didn't want to branch out much. I was just thinking about the directions we're trying to go is all."
Pumyra would never insult Dad, and Tygra hadn't taken it that way. He mulled over this as the car rolled out of the parking lot. "I guess I just wouldn't have taken this path. Too many things you can't control."
"I understand that. But history is rarely made by those that play it safe."
A good-natured debate followed this. He countered that making history was sometimes bad, as one could live in infamy and failure due to blunders. She returned with the fact that if attempts weren't at least made, there would be no remembering at all, and which was worse?
They argued for the sake of arguing, although there was no venom in their bickering. She was combative enough to disagree and he rose to the challenge. Tygra had to admit that Pumyra was probably the closest friend he had right now. But that was all she was. He was still sore about that matter with Cheetara and Lion-O.
He rejected this line of thinking and at a stop light he tapped the wheel. "We could pick up some dinner before I drop you off by your car," he offered. Pumyra cocked her head a little. "I don't think another hour would make any difference to my brother."
"In my shorts and tank top?" Pumyra gestured to his clothing. "You could probably get away with being in a public place in yours, but I'm a bit of a mess."
Tygra inspected her and said, "Oh please, I've seen women walking around in their yoga pants and pajamas. You wear those better than they do anyway."
She smirked. "Good to know for certain you look. I had my suspicions…"
"Come now, 'Ms. Verus.' You're not unattractive. And I'm a man like any other in some respects," he said archly.
Pumyra looked into her duffel bag and pulled out her purse. "Be still my heart. How humble. Well…I left my change of clothes in my car. Let me get them on and I see if Mr. Rey minds watching Bengali for another hour. I trust him." The light had turned green and it was a rather quiet few minutes until they reached the parking garage of Thunder Enterprises. It was empty, spaciously dark, and it was easy to find her slightly beat up little car. Tygra glanced at her but said nothing. Seeing his look Pumyra got out and when he parked and exited the driver's side she explained, "I don't like new car smell. And I'm saving money for Bengali's college and in order to buy a house. Where we live now is nice, but it's pretty far out."
He just nodded and scanned the parking lot. "Are you going to change in there?"
"Probably. Try anything funny I'll harm you." Knowing she could make good on her threat, Tygra turned away when she climbed in and shut the door, leaning on the side of the car. He noted a car parked a few yards away and blinked.
"Hey…whose car is that?"
"What?" She was down below the windows and he tapped on the glass.
"There's a car here." The window slid down and Pumyra poked her head out of it.
After a minute of examining it Pumyra said, "That's Vultaire's. He's the only one around that has a Plundarran car. It's a Lurro." It was shiny like oil and a very sleek, streamlined vehicle. It basically screamed, "Money and foreign."
Tygra felt his face tighten with dislike. "Why would he be out here when everyone else has headed home?" He glanced at Pumyra to see her expression and then did a double-take. She noticed this and frowned.
"What?"
"You…ah…would you put your blouse on?" Granted her bra was still covering her, but even Tygra – who was by no means a virgin – found himself more than a little surprised by her indifference to being partially exposed. She rolled her eyes and muttered something about men, pulling on her crisp white shirt and buttoning it up.
"What was I supposed to do? You wanted me to see something and I was unprepared." He listened to the shuffle of clothing and waited until she climbed out of the car, a little rumpled but prim once again.
"Whatever. My question remains. What is he doing here?"
Pumyra tilted her head. "I'm…not sure." Her ears twitched and roved, listening intently.
"Suspicious, isn't it? Think we should call Lion-O, or do you-?" Tygra asked.
Stiffening, Pumyra grabbed him and dragged him into her car, clapping a palm over his mouth when he protested. "Sh! Look!" she hissed. Tygra squinted over the bottom of the open window as she pulled the door very nearly shut.
He saw what she'd seen after about ten seconds; Vultaire was crossing the parking lot rapidly, talons clicking as he headed to his car. But he paused for a moment, not looking in their direction but beyond them. Standing like a predatory statue, Vultaire stared at whatever it was before continuing to his car and getting in. Tygra only lifted his head when Vultaire drove out of the parking garage, the muzzy gold of his headlights fading. "Well. Wonder what he was up to?"
Pumyra frowned, eyes following the angle of where Vultaire's face had been pointed. "He saw your car. Think he knows which one is yours?"
"Probably." Tygra shifted and she released him, nudging his behind until he got out. "Hey, paws off the merchandise."
"Move the merchandise then." She climbed out of the car, scowling after the smell of fresh exhaust. "Maybe we should check on the security tapes?"
"Yeah. I think that's an idea. Let the security personnel know to keep an eye on him. We've got so many cameras around that he'll have to show up on one of them." Tygra shut the car door and gestured for her to follow him. "Dinner might have to be order-in, Ms. Verus," he said coolly.
"Just as well. I've got a number for cheap eastern cuisine." She jogged after him, taking her phone out. At his blink, Pumyra said, "You try feeding a tween cub and saving for his college on a budget."
Vultaire was a coward at heart.
As long as he felt he was smug and high above the competition, he could maddeningly superior. But when he thought he was in trouble or one step behind, Vultaire got…antsy.
He was on the phone to call Mumm-Ra as soon as he left Thunder Enterprises. "This had better be important. I'm in the process of changing my bandages," Mumm-Ra said softly. Vultaire squirmed, getting out of his car and fumbling with his keys as he undid the lock and headed into his home. It was decorated in burnt umbers and cool grays; it reminded him of Avista in that it was clean and neat and just a little chilly. He shut the door behind him.
"Ah, yes. Your…burns." He coughed. "Anyway, when I left the parking lot I saw Tygra Rey's car. I think he might be onto me."
Mumm-Ra seemed to stir. "Did you do anything? I haven't told you to."
"No, I was just figuring out the full layout and where all the generators were in development. I don't have access to the other labs during the day. I didn't stick around." Vultaire listened to the crispy noise of cloth being tightened and Mumm-Ra coughing. "We've only got another month before the permit expires. Since the 'complaint' was filed. But something is up. Lion-O doesn't seem as worried as he ought to be."
"Playing the hero. Image is everything for that company right now." Mumm-Ra paused and Vultaire sighed and flapped his wings, lifting off his hardwood floor and hopping to the carved oak perch beside his bookshelf. "Would it make you feel better if I got rid of Tygra? I could have someone down there to do it in a month."
Vultaire was preening his wing anxiously and stopped. "Why so long? And why the change in heart?"
"I would want to do it at a time that would prevent Lion-O from being able to wriggle out of his deadline. We can't risk Thundrillium being bought up by Thunder Enterprises before we figure out how to-"
Vultaire cawed. "So foolish. The money that could be made if you only wanted it as energy! But no, you want a weapon-"
"-Power is worth more than money. And if you want safety in the coming years, drop it." Mumm-Ra's voice deepened and crusted with ice. Vultaire clacked his beak delicately.
"Fine. But you'll get someone to off the tiger? I hate that smug, striped little cat. He insinuated that cats have superior flight skills in a plane to birds because of a few aviators through history! The cheek! I don't think any non-feline will be sorry to see the whelp go."
Vultaire was pleased when he heard, "Fine, fine. I'll get Kaynar on it. He's been begging me to give him a job so he can test out a new weapon personally. I'll admit messing with Thunder Enterprises has been interesting, but I'm about ready to finish. Once Lion-O's project fails and Tygra is out of the way, our broken little cub will look to whoever can help…and who but I will be there to catch him as he falls from grace? The only heir will be in my paws."
Vultaire grunted. "All right. So…shall I…?"
"The night before the permit expires. Inspectors will come to see the progress on the generator on the expiration date. Make sure there is nothing to see at all."
Bill looked over the garage and the machines within it, seeing dozens of pieces of technology and the plans sitting on the workbench table off to the side, and several samples of Thundrillium waiting there. Then he turned to Panthro and hugged his leg. "Bill love Panthro. It like berbil Christmas."
Panthro cleared his throat. "C'mon, are we gonna work on Thundrillium or are we going to cuddle?"
Bill tilted his head and rested in on Panthro's knee. "Bill like cuddling," he said. Berbil humor was hard to detect due to their monotone voices, but Panthro had known him long enough to know when Bill was kidding.
It took two hours, but Bill – with a small machine he said he'd been working on for the past week – installed one of the pieces of Thundrillium and delivered a shock to it. "Machine will store energy from Thundrillium, use it to stimulate Thundrillium with constant current. Bill attach battery to absorb excess energy. Need monitor to measure better, but that cost much money." The berbil watched the Thundrillium's glow brighten and said, "Oooooooh…pretty."
"Little man, you're a genius." Panthro picked him up and watched the stone glow warmly. "I've got something to measure the energy output. I've overloaded a few batteries in my day. Let's see…"
Bill rode Panthro's shoulder as he stooped to search through a stack of machinery, looking them over. "Panthro, bigger piece of Thundrillium would put out more energy. If this work, make big generator and run house on it. Robear house and diner have high electric bill."
Panthro laughed, finding his energy monitor and installing it to their toaster-sized machine. "How much you think we can get out of this? I'll be honest, I don't really know what it'll be able to power, if anything. This'll be the first time I can measure what Thundrillium can do."
"Put out energy, but how much?" Bill looked down at the homemade monitor, reading the numbers behind the glass screen. "Panthro make this. Smart Panthro."
Panthro sat down in front of it, squinting. "Bill, your eyes are better than mine. Is that readout saying what I think it's saying?"
Bill pointed at it with a tiny finger. "Put out this number…oh. That is much."
"You're kidding me, right? That's…" Panthro began, doing some mental calculations. "Bill, that'd be enough for me run my house on. If it keeps output up at this level…whiskers."
"Get bigger Thundrillium piece into generator…modify…run whole block." There was no beating a berbil when it came to mathematical calculation and technology, and he clapped his hands. "Bill like. Panthro think element be developed more?"
"Heck yeah. Lion-O's working on a generator right now. Think about it; if we can get a good lump of Thundrillium and keep it stimulated, there's no knowing how long it'll provide energy. And if we can make it so you only need a Thundrillium engine to run a car," Panthro said, grinning at Bill. The berbil began to bounce.
"Bill can make! Bill help build!" He hurled himself onto Panthro's arm and Panthro shook his head.
"Looks like you were right kid," he said softly. "I just hope you can finish your generator in time."
Tygra had mentioned that Vultaire's presence at the company's research building and gone through the security tapes. It looked like he was wandering the building, looking over the generators. Upon being confronted, Vultaire acted offended. "I was just checking on things! I was in the neighborhood and wanted to make sure all the generators were secure for the night! The nerve!"
Lion-O believed little of what Vultaire said. But nothing seemed amiss with the tech, so he was willing to put suspicion aside. The researchers were to keep an eye on Vultaire as always. "I want to fire that arrogant jerk," Tygra muttered.
Leaning in when Vultaire was out of earshot, Lion-O said, "After the permit expires, whether we convince them or not, we're going to get rid of Vultaire. We made his contract match the permit's time span."
The weeks began to move faster it seemed. They were like runners starting out slow and then moving downhill, speeding up until they were coming up on a fall. Vultaire's generator made surprising progress, although that was more because the research team was tired of letting him boss them around, so they started fighting him when he wanted to make bad decisions. Bengali hung around and helped where he could, but Lion-O knew that work on the other generator was still continuing on the sly. It grew and became more finished and polished every day. But time was short, and he didn't know if they would be able to get another permit for Thundrillium.
Bengali said little about school, but Lion-O gleaned from their conversations that bullying was still going on. He had an idea of how to make it stop other than going to the principal, and decided to put it into effect on Friday, one week before the government officials were coming to see the generator. It was not a gigantic, dramatic thing, but he thought it would do.
Lion-O knew how to drive fairly well. He didn't do it terribly often, living in a city with excellent public transportation. But for what he wanted to do, he was going to drive. And not just any car would do for this.
Dad's car had been reverently stationed in the apartment parking lot, and it had been driven perhaps two times since his death. But today, Lion-O was going to drive it to draw attention. It was not necessarily the wisest thing he'd ever done, but it was one way he was going to let a few people know that Bengali had friends in powerful places. If he couldn't use his position to defend his friends, it was completely worthless.
The car was sleek and black, only two years old. It was not extravagant but it was bold and large enough to house Claudus, and Lion-O noticed the pleasant black upholstery had a nice gleam to it.
North Pantherle Middle School was small. It housed about four hundred students, had average passing and failing rates, and its locker rooms smelled like feet. He knew because he'd attended it himself years ago. He pulled up to the curb and parked in the designated area, looking at the familiar brown bricks and remembering the lonely, prepubescent years there with some distaste. It was at this age kids had learned to pick on each other most of all and he still felt a childish roiling in his stomach at the thought of entering the unfriendly halls.
The kids came out the doors to the buses first, and watching the doors for a flash of white, Lion-O spotted neutral furry faces mixed with a few scaled ones. He felt the gazes of parents and older siblings in the cars parked nearby, and the sun on the roof of the car reflected, attracting the attention of the students. Some of them muttered and Lion-O ignored it. It wasn't every day that a CEO in a business suit pulled up. He hunted through the crowd until he spotted a familiar cub and then he lifted his arm. "Bengali! Bengali, over here!"
The white head – recovering from being flicked on the ear by a passing cat – swiveled to face the direction of the cry. Bengali's eyes widened and he beamed, waving back. He broke away from the group and ran toward Lion-O, backpack bouncing. "Hi! You didn't tell me you were coming today!"
"I figured you'd like to get something to eat before we go to the research building. I didn't think Pumyra would mind since it would be quicker than a bus ride." Lion-O glanced over Bengali's shoulder, spotting a few incredulous faces. "Are these your friends?"
Bengali glanced over his shoulder and said, "Um. I guess."
Lion-O nodded at them. A few faces paled and a couple coughed. "Well, let's go Bengali. I need your help today with something. We have to keep working on the generator."
"Okay! Can we pick up something for Sis? I've got a few dollars." Bengali ran around to the other side of the car and got in. Lion-O just gave the kids a long look.
"…Are you really Lion-O Rey?" one of the boys asked. He had black and brown fur and a piercing in his ear. Lion-O nodded. "And…Bengali's a friend of yours?"
"Yes. And he's helping me with some projects. He's a mathematical genius after all. Those are hard to come by." He narrowed his eyes as they exchanged glances. The gravity of who they had angered by bullying the cub was becoming evident. "He's mentioned bullies to me that say he's not smart. I'm afraid they're quite mistaken, whoever they are. He's quite brilliant. And I don't appreciate cowardly bullies picking on him because they're jealous of that. It had better stop, unless they want the principal to be informed."
Lion-O said nothing else, only getting into the car and starting it up again. Bengali looked at him as they pulled away, leaving several students behind in shock. "…You did that on purpose."
"Yep. Let me know if the bullying gets any better." Lion-O smiled at him. "So, what did you want to get?"
Tacos were the food of the day, and Lion-O picked up extra for Pumyra – Bengali paid for those even though Lion-O insisted he didn't have to – and Tygra. Junk food was not a staple of Tygra's diet but Lion-O knew that his brother was rather unsuccessful at refusing anything involving cilantro. Bengali was pleased at the sensation of being picked up from school, and was a little boisterous when they returned to Lion-O's office. "Sis! Sis, Lion-O picked me up today!" He paused and looked a little abashed. "I didn't even know you could drive."
"It's one of my lesser-known, less practiced abilities. Dad preferred not to drive with me," Lion-O said. Bengali gave Pumyra the paper bag of tacos and she looked at them and then at Bengali with scrutiny.
"You were always inclined to get distracted at sixteen," Tygra interjected, and Lion-O was surprised to see him looking through one of the filing cabinets by the wall. "So driving practice was a dangerous exercise. Did you finish that file about the adjustments to our budget for the tax increases?"
"Yeah, on my desk, in my red folder," Lion-O said. Tygra turned around and picked it up and let out a grunt when Lion-O hit him in the diaphragm with another paper bag. "Cilantro on the taco, no verde sauce, right?"
Tygra muttered something and looked into the bag. "Thanks. Next time you want to run off tell me."
Lion-O shrugged noncommittally. Pumyra was still looking at Lion-O with mistrust. "Why did you pick Bengali up? He always comes on the bus."
"I just thought he'd like to be picked up for once. You were busy and I figured I'd go get him." Lion-O should have known better than to fib. Lying was his weakness. Her face became drawn, deadly. Bengali no longer seemed so happy as he fell under her perusing glare.
"Well…I um…I haven't told you but there've been some bullies bothering me. Lion-O promised he'd get them to stop," Bengali admitted.
Pumyra's irises grew flinty. "Why didn't you tell me? And what did he do?" Lion-O watched her push the bag aside and stand up.
"I just picked him up from school. Some of the kids asked if I was Lion-O Rey and if I was Bengali's friend. I said yes and that Bengali was really smart and that if I heard anyone was bullying him, the principal was going to find out." Lion-O watched with uneasy interest as Pumyra's face slowly turned the rich color of a beet.
"That's my job! I look after Bengali! And what are you playing at, attracting more attention to him? What makes you think you have the right to just pick him up from school? Didn't an adult question you?" she snapped.
Bengali shook his head. "Sis, it's not a big deal. Lion-O was just helping. I don't mind."
"Well I do. It's not enough to start hiring tutors and pestering you in that way, so he starts drawing attention at your school?" Pumyra stood up and paced over to Bengali, putting a finger on his chest. "Look, next time you're having trouble, you tell me. I'll fix the issue. You don't have to bother Mr. Rey with it all the time. These are delicate situations, and I don't want you tied into them."
"Sis, I like the tutors! And I…I didn't want to tell you because I knew you'd get upset. You get mad at stuff like that really easily," he muttered.
Pumyra flinched as if she'd been stung. "Well then. Don't bother telling me anything, if you think I get too angry," she snapped. She walked out the door and Bengali ran after her.
"Sis! Sis, wait! I just don't like seeing you upset!"
Lion-O stared after them. "I have no idea what that was about. I mean…I'm sorry for attracting some attention, but I had to get them to stop bullying Bengali, and Bengali wouldn't tell me the names of the kids doing it. What's she so mad about?"
"It's probably partly because she's nervous about Vultaire and everything that's going on. But I think she's jealous of you," Tygra said mildly. Lion-O waited until he was done taking a bite before answering.
"Why would she be jealous?"
"Oh, y'know. You and Bengali have been so chummy lately, he's telling you his problems instead of her…she's probably mad that he likes you so much is all."
Lion-O realized that this was both honest and sensible. He stood there speechless, listening as Tygra continued eating for about a minute. "…I didn't think about it. You're right. She's crazy about him, and…wow. How did you figure that out?" he asked.
"She and I have been going to the gym remember? We talk a little. And think about how that sounded; he told you he was being bullied because he trusted you, but he was worried Pumyra would overreact. If the situation were reversed, how would you feel?" Tygra looked into the bag and took out the other wrapped taco.
Lion-O felt a little weird faced with this wisdom. "Did you figure that out yourself? No offense, but you're not exactly the most emotional and affectionate person around."
"No, but I do know what it's like to be jealous. That's one emotion I understand perfectly well." He gave Lion-O a sardonic look. "Anyway, let's worry about Pumyra's emotional state and my understanding thereof at another time. We're approaching the deadline pretty quick; one week. Do you think you guys can get anything built on time?"
Lion-O took off his suit jacket and said, "I've got them working on it right now and I'll head over after I finish my files. Panthro has been sending me information and ideas. Maybe we'll figure something out…maybe. We're trying to get Vultaire's machine to work because we've spent so much time on it, but our other little experiment is what I'm really hoping on. But I just don't know if we'll have the time. I mean, if we can at least get a machine working enough to use stimulate the Thundrillium and power something reliably, they might go for a longer permit…"
He sat down, looking down at his cufflinks. "We're dealing with a lot of unknowns. It may not mean much to you, but making Thundrillium work is important to me." Lion-O sighed and scratched his head, ruffling his mane. "I feel like we could do something with it, if only we had more time or information."
"Welcome to our world. The world of reality where good feelings and intentions amount to very little." Tygra leaned against his desk. "Still, I'm going to like watching Vultaire leave. I'm sick of him."
Lion-O just looked down at his paws. They were tired, and his claws were a little uneven. Stress was making them brittle. "Yeah. He's been a real problem."
Pumyra returned a few minutes later, looking somewhat calmer. Bengali had gone over to the research building and Lion-O checked his e-mail with the intent of going over after it. Panthro had sent a message – working on Thundrillium with Bill, much to Lion-O's amusement – and he wondered what the panther would do with whatever was left. Technically he would be able to keep it as long as his personal permits lasted.
There was no time to waste. After he finished sorting his e-mail, Lion-O picked up a few of his files and headed toward the door. He paused and said to Pumyra, "I'm sorry if you don't want me stepping in. I just didn't want him to get bullied like I was as a kid."
"…Next time just tell me," she said frostily. He decided that was all he could hope for and left, trying to figure out his remaining tasks for the day.
It took a lot to make Lynxana feel guilty. Or it had in the past few years, anyway. And honestly, other than pestering a family a little and making a deal to save her job, she hadn't done anything illicit for the success at PENN.
But she still felt bad when they received e-mails being spiteful about Lion-O Rey. Some of their news articles had been unflattering – well, nobody liked a nice news station – and played up his inexperience, and the messages had been brutal. Sylvestir was gleeful at the controversy and the spite because it meant interest was high, but Lynxana just read the comments with a sick feeling.
I guess it's just been a long time since anyone we focused on was as nice as this kid.
She'd brought trouble on him, and the reward had been more money and fame than she'd ever thought possible. Lynxana had always believed in people getting their just desserts – journalism sought the truth, and helped see that justice was done – so perhaps that was why it bothered her so much now.
Maybe she was actually starting to like the kid. She felt revolted and hoped not.
"Zanny, got another news break to do on Lion-O Rey." Sylvestir slid into the seat across from her. Lynxana looked up at him in annoyance, spoon still stuck in the bowl in her palm.
"Y'know I hate it when people interrupt my fro-yo. And don't call me Zanny."
"Yeah, whatever." He waved his tail impatiently. "Lion-O was spotted at a local high school picking up the kid brother of his secretary. I was thinking we could put a kind of romantic spin on it, like maybe he's trying to impress her or something. Just to get things a little juicier. Or maybe we could cause some trouble for the school. I mean, he's not Bengali's legal guardian. How lax are they? Whatcha think?" he asked.
Lynxana used the spoon to search for a chilled strawberry. The station cafeteria was warm and the cold fruit was a nice contrast. "But he's dating Cheetara. There's no way he's going for that butch secretary of his. Her voice is deeper than yours, Sylvestir."
His face reddened. "Well…yeah, but I figured we could throw that in. Because you only promised not to report on Cheetara, not some other chick. Gets people curious, y'know?"
She snorted. "No, I can't report on employees either, remember? Just him and the company overall. And," she added, "the cub's out of the question since he's a friend. And just because the school didn't freak out when Bengali obviously knew Lion-O and was back the next school day doesn't necessarily mean they're negligent."
Sylvestir shook his head. "Man Zanny; you're playing by the book this time. How are we supposed to report on it then?"
"We don't." She took another mouthful of frozen yogurt and noticed his eyes bulging. "What?"
"Uh…Lynxana? You've been acting weird lately. You haven't been wanting to do any interesting stories or find gossipy stories. And things have been really good…the others and I just don't want anything to happen that might mess that up. Is something wrong?" he asked. Lynxana scraped her utensil against the Styrofoam bowl.
"Nah. I just don't want to report too much negativity about Lion-O Rey. He just doesn't deserve the crap he's getting."
"But that's what sells, what got us successful. Are you willing to go back to mediocre sleaze about celebrities? We're a real news station now." Sylvestir shook his head. "I know you've warmed up to the guy, but I don't care if he's a jerk or not; he's our key to keeping our jobs and success. You need to interview him again soon so we have more to report on."
Her claws rapped against the side of the bowl. "Yeah. Sure. I guess." She rested her chin in her paw. "But no twisting things. I'm tired of the fibs. Just last week we insinuated he'd been trying drugs because someone sent in a picture online of him taking some kind of pill. Know what it was? Candy. He was eating freaking candy. And there are still loons watching our channel that swear up and down he must be doing hard drugs like a bunch of starlets. He's getting spat at instead of us, and we were the liars. I mean…he hasn't done anything we know of."
Lynxana stood up and lifted her empty bowl, pushing open the flap to the nearest garbage can to their table. "Whatever. I'm just in a funk, I guess."
Sylvestir seemed to have missed her point. "Are you on your rag? My sister gets like this whenever she's on hers. Kind of sentimental and girly." Lynxana stopped, released the flap, and turned around to dump the remainder of the frozen yogurt on his head. She then walked off, still conflicted but feeling a little better for having found a good use for the uneaten food.
Waste not want not and all that jazz.
"Do you think it's enough?"
Lion-O tilted his head and scrubbed a palm across his eyes. "I don't know. But I don't think any of us can handle another all-nighter."
The cat sighed and sat back, leaning on the wall. "We've gotten it to the point that it stores energy and maintains an atmosphere that'll keep Thundrillium releasing energy. I just hope that's enough tomorrow."
The others all muttered and stretched. One was sitting up with his head drooped onto his chest, precariously balanced on his haunches. Lion-O was looking over Vultaire's mess of a plan while trying not to disturb Bengali. The white tiger had been looking at it too, sitting beside him, but now he was half-asleep. Bengali's chin and cheek rested on his neck, and the faint sound of a snoring purr blew over his ear.
Lion-O then gazed at the generator. Vultaire had been off for a few days, and they had used the time to really haul tail and fix it up. The secret generator rested in the back room, partially finished, and Lion-O hoped that if anything went wrong with this one the officials would be suitably impressed by the other one. The Thundrillium in the generator was humming, glowing palest pink. But Lion-O still sighed; it was putting out energy, but it wasn't big enough to house a very large piece of Thundrillium. And he still wasn't sure how much energy could be put out, or if it would run anything.
His dream of making Thundrillium a real power source was wavering before his eyes. If it slipped away this time, perhaps it was just time to let it go. Lion-O could deal with that, he supposed. Twenty to forty years of running the company…the same way it had always been run…day in and day out.
Bengali rubbed his cheek against his shoulder. Lion-O heard footsteps in the hall outside and craned his neck to see Pumyra, and the smallest flash of envy in her eyes. She really was jealous that Bengali liked him so much. Lion-O thought this silly; Bengali was a kid much like himself, and he liked boyish things. Just because he'd found a friend to associate with didn't mean he loved his sister any less.
Oh well. Whatever. Lion-O found himself speaking less lately, not having the energy to expend on it. Four all-nighters and two hours of sleep found him a bit duller than he might have usually been. He nudged Bengali gently and the cub's blue eyes opened, filmy with sleep. "Hey bud. Pumyra's here. I think it's time for you to go home."
"I have to stay late to finish something, actually. I just thought Bengali could nap on the sofa in the office is all, although he seems comfortable where he is," she said lightly. Bengali rubbed his eyes and got to his feet, ambling over to her and hugging her.
Her face softened when he yawned and mumbled, "Sorry. 'M really sleepy. When are we going home?"
"In an hour or so. Come on, you've done enough." She took his paw and Bengali looked at the generator.
"Will they say we can keep working on Thundrillium? I think it's really cool," he said.
"I hope so. But even if they don't, we've done all we can. You've been a big help Bengali. Go on and get some sleep," Lion-O said, ruffling his mane. Bengali smiled and followed Pumyra, and Lion-O spotted his brother beyond the doorway.
He turned to his research team and said, "I think we've gotten these as good as we can. We were given six months and had to cram work into three. You guys have done really great, and I appreciate all the work you've put in, in spite of…certain people."
One of the cats laughed and another rolled his eyes. "Let's go home. If this doesn't impress them there's nothing we can do to change their minds now. They come at noon. Let's get some rest."
Their faces grew happy and tired, and Lion-O picked up his suit jacket, draping it over his shoulder before locking the door to the back room and then exiting, locking the entrance to the official machine as well. "I'm beat."
"Everybody is. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Palustri ran some files over and wants you to approve them before we head home." Lion-O groaned and Tygra shrugged. "It'll only take half an hour. I'll help you."
Half an hour felt like an eternity. The other labs were all locked so the brothers returned to the main office, Lion-O feeling a little disturbed by how quiet and empty the building was. Pumyra was still in the office with a cup of coffee, lamp pleasantly gold. Bengali was curled up on the sofa and he had her coat draped over him. Soft snoring filled the air and Lion-O turned to his desk, skimming the pages as the minutes ticked by.
It feels like nothing's going to happen. Like they'll turn it down. He should have been more upset but he was too tired to care right now. Too many things were pulling at him, and all he wanted right then was to go to bed with Snarf curled up by his side. Lion-O found himself thinking of the Clera's couch and the closeness of the house. It would have been very appreciated right then.
"Lion-O. Your phone." He lifted his chin and glanced at Tygra, who tossed him the phone from one of the file cabinets. He caught it and squinted at the blurry number. It was familiar, and he flipped it open.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Rey! Mr. Rey, are you there?"
He held the phone away from his ear at the scream. Shocked wide awake, he recognized the voice of one of the researchers. "Siame, what's wrong?"
"Someone has broken into the research building! I'm standing right next to a solar panel one of the teams constructed and someone's destroyed it!"
Lion-O's fingers went numb and he had to clutch the phone with both paws. "What?"
"Smashed it to pieces! So were the machines on the first floor!" Siame sounded panicked and Lion-O pulled on his jacket, giving Tygra a short gesture that meant, 'Get your tail over here.' "I came back to get my jacket but the doors were all open! Sir, I don't know who is doing this, but-"
"Siame I'm two minutes away. Leave the building and watch the door. I'll deal with this. Call the police and tell them what you saw. Don't confront anyone, they might be dangerous."
When he hung up Tygra was already ahead of him, running to the door. Pumyra watched them in silence before getting up and looking through the window. "There aren't any lights on. Should I come with you?"
"No, stay here in case we need backup. Somebody's wrecking things?" Tygra had longer legs but Lion-O drew level with him, sprinting toward to the elevator.
"I guess. This couldn't come at a worse time." They were down to the lobby within a minute, the elevator agonizingly slow. Their claws and footsteps echoed in the vast expanse, quiet and dark as an unfilled cathedral. "If they destroy the Thundrillium generator, there'll be no chance at all. All this work will be ruined," Lion-O whispered, and something like panic burned in his stomach.
"Shut up and run," Tygra snapped. They flew out the doors and into the warming air.
A jackal climbed out of the subway, excusing himself quietly as people pressed in on either side. He was taller than most of them and he worked his way to one of the stands that had maps and advertisement brochures. Slipping one out of its jacket he opened it and scanned the contents.
"Hm…if he's heard about what Vulty's doing…let's see…"
He smiled at the stand's attendant. "Kind lady, would you be able to tell me the quickest way to Thunder Enterprises' research building? I have a late appointment to meet."
She smiled, a pretty, peach-colored mutt. "Well sir, the route in red on your map is actually the best way to get there. You should arrive in about ten minutes if you walk."
He grinned and her smile faltered; he'd always had a lot of teeth, and to show them all tended to unnerve people. "Thank you. You may have just enabled me to arrive on time." He took the brochure and sauntered away, heading up the stairs. He and Lion-O will be there to stop the fun. So I should wait in the parking lot. That'll work.
He imagined he heard a sigh of disappointment from his hip. Kaynar smiled, fondling the tiny gun in his pocket. "Just a little bit, sweetie pie. A spoonful of patience before you get to shine."
