- O -
Day 1
My name is Johann Ramanujan the Second, and I've barely escaped with my life. My pursuers chased me to the ends of the Earth, but in the last moments, it was not them I fled, but the ruins of our world. I used the last of my energy to open a portal—I knew not where—and I gave everything I had to take it. My strength. My speech. My humanity.
I awoke in the form of a cat.
Thankfully, this appears to be Earth: the distant Earth of my memories. The sky is blue, the leaves are green, the buildings are shiny. I suppose I should be grateful. As inconvenient as my feline form will be, at least I shall escape notice.
Tomorrow, I make first contact. Someone will take me in. I will rebuild my strength and begin my investigation. I can't spend the rest of my life like this. . . for if this Earth's future plays out like that Earth's past, what remains may be short indeed.
- O -
Day 2
I seem to be a year in the past, not much time at all. Three hundred days and change to avert a terrible fate. . . but no, I must not think of that now, not while I'm like this. One task at a time. . . .
The first order of business is securing myself food and a home, and this I have done. The human called Red took me into her office, and fed me kibble, eurgh! Yet with my newly felid senses, it was the most delicious meal I'd had in months, and perhaps I'd say the same were I human again. Food was hard to come by, near the end. Full and exhausted, I curled up in a boot tray and fell fast asleep.
When I awoke, Red was scratching my ear. It was. . . not unpleasant. I suppose I'll tolerate it for the time being. I do need to stay in Red's good graces, after all.
"What's your name, orange kitty?" she asked.
I tried to reply, and it came out as a long meow. Mortifying!
"Fluffy? Tiger?"
Preposterous. I snorted in displeasure.
Annoyingly, Red laughed at me! "That sounded like a snort," she said. "Well, you're a jumbo kitty, and you snort, so let's call you Jorts."
It was objectively an inelegant name with a harsh, awkward sound, but I felt it in my bones, the same way my involuntary purr started up right then and rumbled through me. And from that moment on, I was Jorts.
- O -
Day 3
It seems the office already harbors a resident. Jean.
Jean is one of those annoyingly-nice kitties who won't leave well enough alone. A real teacher's pet type. She's always sitting dutifully next to someone-or-other. Face serene with the contentedness of having found her purpose.
Jean gets a real shine from feeling useful, and unfortunately, a newcomer makes her feel plenty useful.
All day long, she followed me around, meowing anxiously and trying to educate me: here is our napping spot, there is our feeding closet. I didn't get a single moment to myself.
When at last she settled to groom and nap, I flopped back into the boot tray, as far away from Jean as I could get, only for her to join me! She nudged at my matted fur—point taken, Jean! But I'm not licking mud off myself! I haven't fallen that far! I had to swat at her before she finally sniffed and reluctantly went on her way.
- O -
Day 4
Jean has decided to groom me. With cat spit. Can't decide whether to be relieved or grossed out.
- O -
Day 5
There's a new human in the office: Pam. She seemed nice at first, though there was just something a wee bit unsettling about her. She smells strange: not bad or sweaty. Clean but unnerving. Maybe Jean can help me understand what this unusual scent means. Maybe this is what it means to smell fear.
She stared.
Perhaps she's a touch lost. It's her first day after all. (Or perhaps Pam is someone from The Organization, and I've been recognized.)
I scuttled into the closet and out of sight.
An hour later, I was stuck! I can barely reach the handle, and I haven't any thumbs. That goody-goody Jean had to let me out. I had to admit I was grateful. How can I face The Organization and prevent The Disaster when I can't even open a door? In this form, I don't have enough to give to jump through time again. . . .
Pam watched me exit with an inscrutable expression. I'll have to stay clear of her.
- O -
Day 8
The first sign of hope. I saw a familiar black-and-white bird on the windowsill: a black-and-gray lovebird. I suspect it's Siouxsie, my second-in-command. I'd thought her lost in battle, vanished without a trace the day before The Disaster. It's too early to hope, but perhaps she's made the same trade as myself. I shall have to observe.
- O -
Day 10
What I wouldn't give to be human-sized again! That appalling Pam buttered me. With margarine spread! She kept saying "lick, lick!" to me and even tried to twist my head! Soon, the whole office had gathered around to goggle at me with laughter or pity, oh, I could hardly bear it! I fled to search for Red, but Red was nowhere to be seen. I went to hide in the closet, and in my rush I bumped into it and knocked it shut. Poor Jean was trapped inside!
I returned to my boot tray and set about licking myself, determined to get myself clean. The awful hairs clung to my mouth and stuck in my throat. Oh, such misery is the life of a cat!
- O -
Day 11
A doorstop has appeared under the closet door. It appears Red did not appreciate my blunder.
- O -
Day 14
New day, new slathering of margarine. Pam is a menace. I swiped at her, and she screamed. Red reprimanded me, but anyone can see it was self-defense!
I was still a bit crusty from last week's buttering! At least I had Jean to groom me.
- O -
Day 15
Brought Jean a mousie. Consider it thanks for yesterday.
- O -
Day 18
I grant you, I was tempted. Such a tantalizing smell from the bin! I leaped right in without hesitation, straight into a plastic cup. My paws were sadly inadequate at dislodging it, and each pass simply pressed it tighter onto my head. The look on Red's face when she pulled it off! My humiliation! I'd almost rather have kept the cup.
- O -
Day 20
Red took Jean and myself out for a walk. On leashes! Oh, the indignity of a great warrior chained and leashed like a common criminal! I flopped down and refused to walk under such circumstances. Let Red drag me along like an anvil. It's worth embarrassing myself to embarrass you.
"Why do you mind?" Jean asked, perfectly calm. "It's not like you'd go running off anyway."
Except just as soon as she'd said it, I caught sight of the black-gray-lovebird from before. Was it Siouxsie? I had to know! I slipped out of the harness and took off as fast as my awkward gait would allow. I got a glimpse of her with another bird, before Red caught me. Her companion is every color of the rainbow, while Siouxsie herself is muted grays. They're quite the striking pair.
"Funny that you can't open a door, but you can escape a leash," Red said sternly as she pulled me back inside. This will never do. I have to find a way to make contact.
- O -
Day 21
Practiced running and jumping after the humans went home. I won't be hampered again.
- O -
Day 22
Curses! Another buttering!
- O -
Day 25
Have I continued to pursue the lovely scent wafting from the bin, against all judgment and common sense? Perhaps. Has Red repeatedly had to rescue me from all matter of jars and cups on my head? Perhaps. And today, I've found the source: tinned tuna! I licked the tin until it was sparkling.
Was it all worth it? Absolutely.
- O -
Day 26
It wasn't worth it at all. Pam has found a new way to torment me by intentionally attaching cups to my head. And furthermore, I was trapped in the closet again—the doorstop had disappeared! This has Pam written all over it. There is one human who can perish when The Disaster arrives!
- O -
Day 27
The doorstop is back.
- O -
Day 28
Gone again.
- O -
Day 34
There is now a cat flap in the door. All is well, or so I thought. Later I found Pam watching the cat flap with tears in her eyes. What's the matter? Pinched your finger in it?
- O -
Day 35
Big clash in the office today. Red and Pam and the whole office was there! Curious to hear their fight, I crept closer.
"—depriving Jorts of the chance to learn," Pam was saying, her voice as cold and sharp as crystal.
"Pam, I love Jorts, but he's just dumb af," Red said gently. I was both touched and offended. I wasn't born a cat, and I'm doing my best!
"If we all just stick to the tutoring session. . ." Pam tried.
"You can't expect Jean's tortoiseshell smarts from orange cat Jorts," Red interrupted with a chuckle.
Pam's face crumpled in slow motion, an array of emotions crossing her face: from shock, to disappointment, to outrage, to absolute devastation. Even I was surprised when she burst into tears. "You're perpetuating ethnic stereotypes!" she wailed as she fled the office, leaving only stunned silence behind.
- O -
Day 40
Another walk, another chance to search for answers. . . clues. . . anything. The harness was tighter this time. I couldn't get free. I yowled pitifully the whole time, for if I'm forced to endure this humiliation, Red must join in my suffering.
- O -
Day 42
I was forced into a bowtie and made to sit for a photo today. Odd. It's probably harmless, but just to be safe, I put on my dullest expression. Can't afford to be recognized.
After, Red sat me down and began a very solemn speech that began, "I apologize for not treating you with the respect you deserve. . . ." I tuned her out until she wrapped up with "most of all, I apologize for this."
Then, she harnessed me, leashed me, and brought me to Pam, and oh how I wished I could wiggle free!
"I'm sorry I buttered you and put cups on your head," Pam grumbled. She didn't look at me, and I didn't look at her.
When I returned to my corner, I found the last insult: my boot tray had been replaced with a cat bed! It's nice, I suppose, but it's not the same. Perhaps if I steal some boots, it will spruce the place up.
- O -
Day 55
Still no luck with the door. I've learned to push the window open though. Perhaps my resourceful officers can find me.
- O -
Day 87
Pam and I had an uneasy understanding. Until the Halloween party, that is.
Red dressed me as a sweet potato. Okay, a bit odd, but ultimately harmless. Hardy-har, I'm an orange cat, amirite? But Pam's appalled expression and barely-contained rage suggests something far worse.
Is there something I'm missing?
- O -
Day 144
It's taken me half a year, just about, and I've finally—finally—gotten a close look at that black-gray lovebird. She came to the window tonight. Sure enough, it's Siouxsie! I was so relieved I nearly wept.
And her rainbow companion?
"Kiwi, my informant," Siouxsie answered shortly. "We were captured at the rendezvous point some 144 days ago—or 220 days hence, depending on your perspective. We invoked the ancient magic together."
"We're doing all we can to avert The Disaster," Kiwi added. "We haven't the dexterity to change much, but with your help, and your cat form, we may have a shot."
Me? What good can I do? I failed once before as a human. Now I can't even get a peanut butter jar off my own head.
"You can stop moping," Siouxsie told me sternly. "You're the Commander. What will your subordinates think to see you looking all"—an imperious wave of her wing—"bedraggled?"
This is why she's my second-in-command, after all.
- O -
Day 200
Finally getting the hang of my limbs and senses! I can jump from the floor to about table-high. I can run pretty reasonably! Almost average for a cat! Still can't get those dang cups off my head. Why are the office bins always full of them?
"Those are coffee cups," Jean informed me with distaste. "Of course the bins are full of them. This is an office."
Speaking of Jean, I've yet to manage the doorknobs. I'm starting to suspect Jean has an unusual talent with doors. . . .
- O -
Day 233
"Here's the intel," Siouxsie twittered through the cracked window. "We've found the blueprints for the nuclear ray gun. If I recall, construction started around this time."
"There's only one set of blueprints," Kiwi added. "To prevent them from falling into the wrong hands. But this will also be their undoing. All we have to do is ruin those plans, and the world will be saved."
What can I do? I can't even open doors. But perhaps. . . perhaps I know someone who can.
"Leave it to me," I said, hoping that my puffed up fur and tail spoke of confidence and not fright.
- O -
Day 234
"I don't see what this has to do with me," Jean sniffed, but nonetheless she opened the office door. Single-file, we slipped into the night, where Siouxsie waited just outside.
Quietly, we followed her to an unremarkable warehouse. "The doors are locked and alarmed," Siouxsie explained, "but Kiwi squeezed in through the hole between the rafters. He's unlocked a window for us. Now it's your turn."
Jean opened the window with frightening speed. "Wow, you're terrifying," I whispered. I hopped up onto the ledge and started to squeeze in.
To my horror, I was stuck. The window only opened a few inches! "Could this night get any worse?" I groaned, when a too-familiar gasp sounded behind me.
Trapped as I was, I couldn't turn to look. But I immediately recognized that smell. Clean, unnerving fear.
"Well, what do we have here?" Pam asked smugly.
Siouxsie and Jean scattered as Pam approached, reaching for something in her purse. "I was just out for an evening walk, and what do I find? You refused my lessons before, and now you'll regret in leisure. No Red to stop me now. No Human Resources to reprimand me," she cackled gleefully. "Tonight. . . tonight, I shall teach you a lesson. And you will be better for it. . . should you escape!"
Something slippery and cool touched my fur. Margarine. I hissed and thrashed, but I was far too stuck. "Who on Earth carries margarine in their purse?" I shrieked, though I knew Pam couldn't understand.
And that was when the miracle happened. Little by little, I began to wiggle free. The slippery margarine aided my escape, until at last, I burst through the window with a pop! I scampered into the warehouse and out of sight with her mad cackles echoing behind me.
Destroying the blueprints was child's play. I simply had to knock over a glass of water, rendering them illegible. It would take months to redo the calculations. With satisfaction, I squirmed back through the window and accepted a bath from Jean. I purred all the way back to my office bed.
- O -
Day 235
"Something the matter?" Red asked, finding Pam staring at me in shock.
Pam shook her head slowly. "Just. . . an odd dream," she concluded.
- O -
Day 365
It's been a year since I was first defeated, my team destroyed, and my planet scorched. And today?
Today is beautiful.
In honor of today's significance, I even acquiesced to the leash simply to see the sun and the great outdoors. "You've come a long way," Red remarked. "Perhaps you can be taught."
Siouxsie is expecting chicks with Kiwi. Jean is as dignified as ever.
And myself? I have my food station in the closet and a cat bed with my stash of boots. I get head rubs in the morning and a brushing twice a week. Sometimes, I still get cups stuck on my head. Can't resist that tuna! And at night, I sit on the windowsill and await my missions. After all, someone's got to keep evil in check.
I'm Johann Ramanujan the Second, Jorts for short, and that someone is me.
