The Fourth Cat                    ...there were rich and poor, regal
                                  and common, even diplomats, all
Lou Crago                         accepting, or enduring, each other in
                                  the haze and music. She sat in a
                                  scallop along one wall and the big
                                  black cat lay at her feet with its
                                  head raised and its huge yellow eyes
                                  watchful.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kiko lost her big cat somewhere between Jin Place and home. It was the third one she'd lost in a month. Tito was going to stop making them for her at this rate ... he was generous, but he didn't like to see his art wasted. 

The last time, he had said, "It's not just a matter of waste. It's that now they're out there!" 

"But they won't live long," she had said in defense. "You said yourself they don't stay constabulated." 

"I said," he answered, "but that's if nobody else gets hold of them." 

She didn't know what that meant. Tito was an Artist. She didn't know for sure what that meant either. He could make awesome things, like the cats ... things far beyond mere tech ... but he wouldn't even sell them. He could have made a gigantic fortune! But he just gave them away ... to her, and to one or two others. She had never actually seen the others; they came on foot probably, while she came in the Embassy car. 

She wanted to be able to come on foot also, to slip through street shadows and show up at Tito's like an anonymous. Except her Grandmother, who ruled everything ... at least everything in this capitol city of an occupied nation ... wouldn't allow it. Every time Kiko went out, it was the car, and the chauffeur, an d the personal guard. There was no way she could live a life of her own choice, like everyone else. Wear black clothes, and not sleep, and prowl the streets, and march in foolish demonstrations. 

Her Grandmother was, of course, Dylete Mikyo, the JapaChine Ambassador. She'd had the post for at least 60 years, but had been fixed repeatedly, so that she looked 30, maybe 40 in sunlight. She'd had Kiko's mother and father eliminated ... so Kiko suspected ... and now the only blood-relation she would tolerate i n the Embassy was 17-year-old Kiko, thin and frail. It meant Kiko wa s constantly attended by tutors and guards, and had the surveillance cameras on while she slept. 

At 16, Kiko had threatened suicide if she wasn't given some personal freedom. She demanded one six-hour stretch every fortnight, with the bracelet monitor off, and freedom to leave the Embassy. She won that, except that she had to be driven to where she wanted to go in the car, then picked up six hours later and driven home. Kiko chose eight p.m. to two a.m. Dylete was hard to sway, but finally agreed when she saw that Kiko was perfectly serious about the suicide. 

The first time out, Kiko found Jin Place. The second time she followed a bizarre red animal like a fox along the shadowed street, and it led her to Tito's alley, and to his door. 

It was open. That, in itself, was strange. Nobody left doors open. She stepped in. He turned from a table where he stood working and stared and stared at her without a word. He was old! You scarcely ever saw old-looking people ... not when it was so cheap and safe to get fixed. He was small and thin, with very intense eyes. 

She let him look. That was what diplomatic life, and being rich, meant ... your gear was the most beautiful, sleek, and costly that was available. Even in diplomatic circles, they looked. Then you looked back at them. Something unspoken was decided. Dylete, her Grandmother, had been coming out on top for 60 years in these contests; now Kiko had the knack also. Maybe because she didn't think anything when the looking contest was in progress. She just waited calmly, knowing she would win. Or maybe she'd inherited something from Dylete. 

Tito said, "Presence without mind. I like that. Maybe I'll give you a gift to go along with it." 

Kiko was used to that too; diplomats gave gifts to make up for having lost. She held out her hand, expecting some rare object. But he turned and opened a door, and out came a big cat. It was big and orange, striped with black. She'd never seen anything like it. The only animals she'd been allowed to have were little and with white fluff all over. They died after a year or so, looking sad. 

This one came and stood beside her, lazily switching its long tail. It paid no attention to her, but followed when she went out. She couldn't make it get in the car, but it loped along beside. Before the car pulled into the Embassy gates, however, it had disappeared. 

On her next free night, she went back to Tito's and informed him about it. He stared at her again, and then gave her another cat. This one was the same size, but sleekly black all over. She took it back with her to Jin Place, where nobody would be surprised by anything. There, there were rich and poor, regal and common, even diplomats, all accepting, or enduring, each other in the haze and music. She sat in a scallop along one wall and the big black cat lay at her feet with its head raised and its huge yellow eyes watchful. 

She drank an exotic drink, smoked a hookah, and watched the people watching her. The diplomats bowed when they passed her scollop; they knew who she was, what rank. It was a very satisfying evening. But when she tried to force the cat into the car, it turned and loped away into the shadows of the street. 

The next time, she actually talked to Tito ... the way you talk in private, the way she remembered talking to her Mother long ago. 

"They won't come home with me. What's wrong?" 

"Maybe the breeding isn't right," he said. 

"I never assumed you were breeding them ... there's no breeding stock left. I thought you were making them." 

"No breeding stock left? Ah, so they've educated you a little." 

"I've had the very best education!" she said haughtily. "Subliminals every night since I was six." 

"Ah, so you have stored in your head all the world's factoids?" 

"Certainly," she said. 

Then he explained that "made" creatures were outside that paradigm. 

That made it strangely exciting to her. She wasn't sure exactly why, except that anything beyond tech was exciting because it was forbidden. In any case, she wanted another one. 

"All right, one more," he said. "But see you don't let it get loose." 

Now she had lost this third cat, a blue-grey one. Again she and Tito talked privately, and she became so engrossed that she sat down, no doubt creasing her rich dress, and clasped her jeweled hands together passionately like a child or an anonymous. "If it could come home with me," she said, "and be in my suite. And maybe even ... this sounds bizarre ... even sleep on my bed. Make it to do that." 

"Why?" he asked. 

She thought about it. "I want to hear its purr in the night. Or growl, or whatever it does." 

"And what will you do?" 

"I willÉlisten." 

As an incentive, she told him to bill the Embassy, but he sneered at that. Nevertheless, he gave her another cat. It was deep gold with black spots on its flanks. And around its neck was a leather collar studded with chunks of amber. He also gave her a narrow leather leash, which he snapped onto the collar. 

"No more after this," he said, his eyes narrowing. "Keep this one, or don't come back." 

She didn't even go back to Jin Place. She waved forward the unobtrusively following car, and when the chauffeur had opened the door, stepped in. The lea sh made it possible to pull the big cat in too. 

On the ride home, she let it lie on the seat beside her, and she used the tips of her fingers to stroke its silky head. The guard at the Embassy gate ma de as if to refuse the cat admission, but she stared at him, and let him look at her staring, so he backed down. Naturally. 

She took the lift up to her suite. The big cat sat on its haunches, not disturbed by being in the mechanism ... it even lowered its lids slowly once or twice, as if contented. 

She went through to her bedroom. There, she had the sudden and remarkable desire not to wear any of her sleep robes that night. She slid into the satin naked, and even unplugged the subliminal unit at the headboard. The cat leapt lightly up on the bed, stepped around for a few moments, then lay down. It's head rested on her stomach. She lay very still, waiting to hear its purr. 

There were alarm shriekers going off somewhere, and people shouting. Footsteps running. She sat up, threw back the satin, and went blindly across the carpet a dozen steps before she even knew she was awake. 

The double doors burst open. Security guards and male secretaries came pouring in. Kiko watched them look at her with shocked eyes and realized, looking down, that she was still naked. She stood quite still and let them look, thinking nothing. And within a few moments, she had won. They began to make the brief, obligatory bows, and to edge backward out the doorway. 

Dylete's Chief of Staff came forward, moving through them and, with his hand trembling slightly, held out a precious object. It was Dylete's Seal of Office. 

"The Ambassador has met with ... an accident. Which precludes her fulfilling her post. I am now at your service, as you assume the post by heredity." 

Kiko said carefully, "How was the Ambassador accidented?" 

The man hesitated. "By laceration s to the throat. The jugular vein was... shredded. There was a great deal of bleeding." 

"Who did this?" she asked, her eyes wide. 

"We have not apprehended the....the intruder," he said. "The alarm system was not tripped. We will continue to investigate." 

"Very well," said Kiko. She did not look around for the cat which no one was supposed to know was in her suite. She sensed that it was no longer there. 

"Attend to the body of the former Ambassador," she instructed. 

The Chief of Staff made a formal bow. "And shall I bring her robe of state to you now?" 

"Yes, you may do that." 

He backed out. 

Kiko stood waiting. Even in nakedness, she was totally enrobed by presence. But her right hand, unaccountably, lifted slowly to her throat. There was a leather collar studded with amber around her neck. 

And there was a taste in her mouth: something strange that she had never before tasted. 

She suddenly knew much more than factoids. Very much more, all in a rush! 

She knew about Tito. And why "made" things beyond tech were forbidden. 

And something about what it was going to be like, being Ambassador, when she was so young and unaccustomed to politics. With four lost cats prowling somewhere. Out there in the shadowed streets, where the great mass of people were anonymous, poor, wore black, and didn't sleep.

