14

"Monkran, Simiann, help me get this wench out of the chair!"

"Hoo, hoo, our pleasure!" The two twins came forward to release the restrains binding Cheetara to the metal chair, and she immediately began to fight, but the simians were too strong for the weakened Thunderian.

Graydon laughed. He thought he rather enjoyed seeing her squirm. "Why so nervous, cat?" he asked. "A 'mighty' Thunderian so scared of a Mutant?" His voice was mocking, the words bitter. "Well not so mighty now, you or your pathetic kind." Cheetara stopped fighting long enough to narrow her eyes and glare hatefully at the smug Reptillian. He only laughed. "Tie her hands together and get some irons on her ankles. We need to slow this little cheetah down some way, don't we?"

Cheetara fought again and kicked at him. Graydon easily avoided her as the two simians complied, and shoved Cheetara roughly to the floor. She hit on her back and was able to make one effort to get back up before Graydon was on her, pinning her down on her back. He saw anger in her eyes, but also fear. That was what he wanted to see. The Reptillian slashed open her uniform with his reptile claws, exposing the Cheetah's torso. She growled in anger, determined not to squirm for this bastard. "Ah a spirited one," he sneered, cupping a breast, then squeezing it viscously. He was satisfied to see a flash of surprised pain cross her eyes and to hear a grunt, muffled by the gag. He narrowed his eyes, leaned forward, and hissed, "When I am through with you, you will not be so cocky."

A time later, Cheetara was flung back into the little cell to sprawl roughly on the floor, the clink of chains from the leg irons waking the sleeping Snarf from his uneasy slumber. Cautiously, he turned his head from where he lay on the filthy mattress, and his eyes widened. "Cheetara?"

Cheetara had not cried in front of the Mutants. She had been able to hold it in until now, but now she began to sob. On her knees, her elbows resting on the ground, her head hanging, she began to sob.

"Snaaaarf..." Snarf tried to sit, but was unable, and he cursed in the Thunderian language, he cursed the Mutants and the miserable creep that had taken them there, and the fact he could not help his friend. That hurt him worst of all, His nurturing nature made it very hard for him to stand by while someone suffered.

After a few minutes, Cheetara slowly got a hold of herself and stifled her sobs until her breathing had slowed, and her shaking began to abate. She tore off the gag. "I'm all right, Snarf," she whispered. She staggered to her feet, using the sink for support, and turned on the water. She began to cleanse herself. Her uniform, ripped almost to the point where wearing it would have been pointless, hung in tattered shreds. She bled where she should not bleed, and even the sexual assault was not reprieve from the promised thrashing; Graydon had carried out his first intention and beaten her, even after he had his way with her.

Snarf closed his eyes again, too weak to answer, as Cheetara lay back down on the floor and lay down. Her boots were gone, taken when she'd been shackled, and now she felt the chill of the cell, even though it was hot outside. With a sigh, she curled up on the floor next to the mattress and closed her eyes to try to sleep.

***

"Pumyra," Lynx-O said, finally shutting the Braille-written book and standing up. He put his hands in front of him as he slowly made his way to where she sat in a comfortable chair across the room, watching Snarfer look through his magazine written by a Snarf of the Valley of the Snarfs.

She looked up. "What is it, Lynx-O?"

"We must go back to see Cheetaan."

"But Lynx-O, it's late, the library's about to close, and I am exhausted. Can it wait?"

Lynx-O sighed. He too, was tired, and he thought that Cheetaan was tired as well, after the intense vision conjuring. "Yes...yes, I think that it can wait. You're right, we need to rest. But first thing in the morning, we must go back."

Pumyra nodded as Snarfer replaced his magazine and they walked out, headed for the outskirts of town.

The young puma was the first to wake the next morning, and although the sun was out, she did not wake the others. She sat and watched the sun rise, the brilliant red-orange sun that she had missed so much during her days on Third Earth. In the morning, and at dusk she would go outside, especially during the summer, and only watch the sun rise or set. It was then, in rare cases, but sometimes when it appeared huge, and was the deep orange, that she could imagine she was on Thundera. It was in these cases when it so resembled Thundera's sun, that she could imagine that it was.

Lynx-O awoke a little while later and once again they trekked across town. All the traveling was tiring, but it was necessary. If they were to get back to their own space and time, it was necessary.

Cheetaan smiled as his visitors once again knocked on his door. "Come in, my friends."

"Cheetaan, we must ask your help once more," Lynx-O said as they sat down.

"What can I do for you?" Cheetaan had been fatigued by the last day's visions, but a good night's rest had rejuvenated him.

"Well, I have found something that might work, but I must ask you about Cheetara and Snarf, and this alignment of stars." Lynx-O paused to gather his thoughts, then asked: "I need to know: when is the next such event on Thundera, and when is the next such event on Plundaar?"

Cheetaan frowned. "You mean from the time your friend has been thrust into?"

"Yes. Are you able to tell these things?"

Cheetaan grinned. "When asked of specifics, such a question is easier than what you asked of me yesterday." Once again he concentrated, and in the low voice that was how he spoke when in a trance, he said, "On Plundaar...four days from where your friend is. The effects of this alignment are felt for a few days from the actual event, but when the alignment is exact, it is then that the potential for time alteration is strongest, and when the barrier between dimensions is thinnest. The date there would be...they no longer use our dating system." Cheetaan was silent for a moment, then said, "gidsshd frekk. This is the Plundaarian phrase for the date when this will happen." Once again the silence, then Cheetaan's serene voice saying, "Here on Thundera, the next occurrence of this alignment will be on 23, Day fourtee--" Suddenly, Cheetaan gasped, then cried out as if in pain, clutching his head.

Lynx-O frowned concernedly and rushed forward to help the cheetah, banging his shin on the low table as he did so. Pumyra also came forward to catch him as he had stated to fall, but Cheetaan collapsed on the plush chair, still holding his head.

"Cheetaan?" Lynx-O asked, edging forward to clasp the man's shoulder. He usually would not interrupt a trance of this kind. but he was concerned that Cheetaan had hurt himself. All three travelers were quite aware of what had happened on 23, Day fourteen. "Are you all right?"

Finally, the young man lifted his head from his shaking hands. "By all the gods," he said in a horrified little voice. "By the gods...is it true?"

Pumyra started to answer, but Lynx-O gently touched her arm and asked instead, "What did you see, Cheetaan?" If they were mistaken, he did not want the young cheetah to know of Thundera's destruction. If he did, that would disrupt things even farther if he decided to act on it.

Cheetaan turned his horror stricken face to look up at the lynx while Pumyra sat back down, Snarfer only watched the exchange with interest. "Thundera..." Cheetaan whispered. "Did it really...was it really destroyed? Our whole planet?"

Lynx-O bowed his head sadly and sat back down. "Yes, Cheetaan," he said in a low tone. "Yes. It was." He sighed. "A handful of us made it to this place I told you about, Third Earth; we do not know if any others of our countrymen made it." He remembered that last day, when they all were desperately running for their escorts out, how he, Pumyra, and Bengali had seen the transport they were to be on topple and perish, taking its passengers with it, right before he himself had been blinded...

Cheetaan said nothing for a long time, as they sat in silence for a minute, a silence that was one of mourning, mourning for an event that had not yet even happened. Then Lynx-O spoke. "Cheetaan," he began.

The cheetah spoke up. "No, Lynx-O. I will not tell anyone." It hurt him very much to say this, but he understood perhaps more than Lynx-O did, the possibilities of devastation such a major alteration of the time line could cause. "I cannot."

Lynx-O nodded. "I am sorry, I am sorry you had to know."

Cheetaan managed a shaky smile. "It's all right, Lynx-O. I only hope that at least you can save some people with the information I have given you."

"Thank you, my friend. I will never forget your kindness to us." Lynx-O stood and shook the man's hand warmly. "Thank you."

"Good luck, Lynx-O." The wish of luck was sincere.

The three travelers left then, leaving Cheetaan to think, and think. He could never tell anyone, and he hoped that it would not change his life too much Perhaps his parents and he would be able to escape. Maybe he would be one of the lost, drifting in stasis capsules or landed on a planet to be discovered by someone who would know where his countrymen were...

"Oh, snarf snarfer," Snarfer muttered. "That wasn't good at all, not at all."

"No," Lynx-O said somberly. "It was not. It cannot be prevented, as Cheetaan understood; I did not want to inflict the sorrow of knowing on him. But there is nothing now to be done. I have an idea on how we can fix our current dilemma, however."

At this, Pumyra turned on him, the tears in her eyes being no clue to the blind lynx that she was crying, but her projected sorrow and her voice told him that she was. "How can you say that?" she demanded, wiping he eyes. "How can you just dismiss the deaths of thousands of our people?!"

Lynx-O winced and moved forward. "Shhh!" he warned. "We will talk, but we will do it in private!" He rarely spoke spoke sharply, but enough hurt had been caused by too much knowledge.

A little surprised by Lynx-O's outburst, Pumyra waited until they were away from prying ears, then she resumed. "How can you just...walk away from this to fix our own petty problems?!"

Lynx-O understood what Pumyra was saying, and how she felt. But she did not understand, not at all. She was a healer, not a scientist. "Pumyra, listen to me. Listen. When you start playing with the time stream, it's as if you were to take a Thundranium pistol and put it to your head and fire. The effects may wear off after a while, but on the other hand it may kill you. Yes, the destruction of Thundera was a horrible tragedy, and I lost many friends to it, but it was meant to be-"

"Don't you DARE say that to me!" Pumyra shrieked, and slapped Lynx-O across the face, eliciting a surprised cry from the older man. "Don't you dare say to me that our people should die only because it was meant to be!"

"Now hold on, Pumyra!" Lynx-O was a little angered. He did understand, but still, it hurt him to hear her say those words. "You did not let me finish. Thundera was destroyed in the original time line. What happens if we prevent that?"

Breathing hard, on the edge of losing control completely, Pumyra growled in a shaky voice, "Then thousands of our people live."

Lynx-O nodded, again under self control, although inside he stung. Her words had stung more than her hand. "Yes. We never go to Third Earth, and perhaps Mumm-Ra decides to eliminate the inhabitants, or even if he does not, he keeps them under his cruel reign. And then we do not become ThunderCats." He held up a hand to silence her outburst. "And we do not go to Third Earth. If we do not, aside from any ways the denizens there might suffer, if we never go to Third Earth, then we never meet Mumm-Ra, who has brought us here in the first place. If we don't meet him, he can't take us here, and we cannot prevent Thundera's destruction. What happens then? We have two things existing at the same time. Does everyone involved simply get erased from existence?" Pumyra was silent, and Lynx-O held his arms out to her. "We just do not know what would happen, Pumyra. As hard as it is to understand...even harder to accept...it could cause more ill than good."

Finally breaking down, Pumyra started sobbing, and collapsed into Lynx-O's arms, turning her face to his shoulder like a frightened cub. "It's too confusing, Lynx-O!"

The older cat held her while Snarfer looked uncomfortably at the ground. "I know, Pumyra. But it must be." He sighed. "I have an idea, and hopefully we will soon be able to put it behind us. Once again."

Part 13

Part 15

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