Chapter 22

Many years later.

"You sure you have to go?" Mom asked, stopping her in the kitchen. "There's no reason you have to take this assignment, kitten. You could stay here another century if that's what it takes. Or maybe get a nice job in operations or maintenance."

Avery adjusted the vest on her chest, securing the buttons there one at a time. She levitated the plastic clip out of her fur, then replaced it on a thicker patch so it wouldn’t move. It didn't matter if other cats thought her style was silly—Avery liked it. It was nice to have a reminder of what she used to be.

"I want to see it! More than… this." Her tail flicked at the plain walls, with the outlines of video portraits hanging there. They changed often, showing incredibly detailed recordings of important moments they had shared, or just relaxing scenery of fields, trees, and warm-water beaches. But none of them could bring her calm the way they usually did.

Today, she was saying goodbye.

"It's just an observation post," she said, pawing at the floor in front of her mother. "It's not dangerous. I'll just be logging the Pokémon, inspecting the equipment—"

The larger Pokémon lifted her off the ground, levitating her much closer. She wrapped both forelegs around her, pulling her up against her chest. "Sometimes I thought you would never grow up. Now I wish you hadn't." She held on tight, filling Avery's nose with her scent.

Avery relaxed, and started purring too. She couldn't help it. This touch was where she belonged: familiar, warm, and safe. She had already been there much longer than other cats. She didn't look it; Mew got bigger as their mental powers grew, not in response to any arbitrary passage of time. Her mother could hold her by the neck, refuse to let her go, and she wouldn't have to go out into the big, dangerous world.

She quieted that thought before it could leave her mind. If Avery had been that kind of cat, she wouldn't be here in the first place.

"I'll be back," she thought instead. "You aren't saying goodbye forever."

The Mew released her abruptly, dropping her to the apartment floor.

She caught herself before her paws touched it.

"I know you aren't mine by blood, but you are still mine. I feel the certainty in you. You fear you will not come back."

Avery might be a slow learner in many regards. She could take years to master interspatial manifold equations and transitive application of sublinear modulus of continuity. But being human had taught her things that no cats ever learned: deception.

With any other, she could do it. With her classmates and the training staff at the academy. But not her mother. "I hope I see you again," she said. Out loud—she didn't trust herself not to send that thought to others. No one could hear this. No one else could be trusted. "You gave me more than I deserved."

Mitra held her close, with more affection than she might expect at her size. This was the way she might hold a kitten, not a cat who had completed their first year at the cadet academy and was ready for their evaluation assignment. Avery would have a rank soon.

"You still think you're from the past," she whispered. "Or the future. Either way, you should know by now. Time only goes forward, kitten. We only get the life Arceus gives us. We can't go back."

She released her with one last affectionate lick at her fur. "How long is your tour?" she asked, more formally. She knows.

"Two years," Avery answered. "I'll be back here for evaluation after that. Maybe officer's school? Or crew placement. Guess we'll see."

Avery reported for duty later that day. Second Lieutenant Aine was waiting for her in the hangar, looking only mildly annoyed by Avery's nonstandard appearance. She eyed the clip as Avery floated over, but said nothing.

Avery smiled up at her from the floor. "You're so much taller than last time, Aine! You must've been studying!"

The cat tensed, her tail whipping once into the padded floor behind them. This particular hangar had only two jumpers docked, with eight others missing. "Cadet candidate. I think it would be better if we remained professional when we're on duty."

How much of that tension was for the audio recorder, or some concealed officer watching them?

She stiffened to match the larger cat. Almost twice her size now, not including that uniform jacket. Her old best friend was really learning fast. "Yes, ma'am."

Aine floated past her, satisfied. "You know your post, cadet? Looks like—" Her eyes flickered to the implant embedded in her skin, and the holosurface projected in front of her. Not visible from Avery's position, though she could still see the colors. "Incredible. I have absolutely no idea how you landed that post. HF-1-1-4. Arceus must be watching over you."

Avery held still, other than a little pressure of psychic powers to straighten wrinkles in her uniform jacket. "Yes, ma'am. Automated observatory post. I am familiar with the duties and inspection procedures."

"Well then." Aine nodded to the nearest jumper. With her gesture, the automatic door hissed opened. "I have made your station my first to inspect. Ensure it is in compliance within one week. Perhaps we will have more time to talk during my visit."

"I would like that, ma'am." She saluted, then floated towards the open door.

Aine followed her, though she didn't go inside. She stopped near the entrance, eyes narrowing. Not the huge round eyes of a kitten, anymore. Her old friend was older now. "Avery. You should know, a lot of cats are watching your career. You're… important. Don't spill your milk this time."

She nearly stuck out her tongue at the older cat—but stopped herself. Aine wasn't acting like the friend she'd grown up with, clearly she couldn't be herself either. Maybe the cats watching were literally watching them. "I don't know why they would," she said, removing her cap and hanging it near the pilot's seat. "I'm at the bottom of my class. If I do really well, I'll qualify for placement in technical or medical. I'm not rising towards command."

Aine smiled weakly. Faint, but Avery sensed the amusement from her. "Obviously not. It's the opposite, Avery. You're the…" She stepped inside, and flicked her paw at the door. It zipped closed, and the interior lights came on. More importantly, the gravity shielding of the jumper also isolated her telepathy. "There are half a million 'humans' in primitive settlements in the Ilex region. Right now, you're living proof that those cats can be rehabilitated."

"There are… humans here?" She abandoned all pretense of her formal stance and lifted into the air again. Her tail drifted, her hat abandoned on the seat. "You never told me that! I don't even remember… I told you I was—"

"You didn't call them that. But come on. Primitive society, no psychic powers. Males were common, no starship, worked with Pokémon to make up for their underdeveloped powers. Only one thing you could've been."

She floated closer, voice low. "There's two ways this goes in the next century, Avery. If you care about them, it's time to perform. You haveta show the Admiralty that you can be a contributing member of the fleet. You grew up at a… glacial pace. But it's not unusual for serious wounds to have long recovery times. You go out there, and you be the best cadet you can be. You get accepted to the officer corps, you serve more faithfully and patriotically than any cat ever did. Because if you don't…"

Aine turned away. Something moved from the seat; Avery's cap, levitating back to the correct position on her head. "And shave that little tuft of fur you've got before your first inspection. I think they're sending a film crew with me. You need to be a model officer. Best there ever was."

Avery shuddered. "Or what, Aine? What does the Admiralty want to do to… what are they like? I didn't see any buildings, must be—"

"The same thing that happens to all the other degenerate bioforms, Avery. If they can't be rehabilitated, the planet isn't for them. Prove we can save them, please. I'd rather have lots of new kittens in Starfall than… the alternative." She vanished in a flash of white light, a teleport that left only a faint outline behind.

For a few seconds, anyway. Avery stared at the place she'd been, dropping to the soft floor. Her ears folded back, eyes huge. "Humans. They knew I was human."

"Of course," Sinnoh said, their voice friendly and polite. But they always were. "Your level of development was somewhat uncharacteristic of the first attempts to recover that particular bioform in that you survived the treatment. No others have."

Avery shuffled to the pilot's cushion. Nothing like a human aircraft: this was a comfortable place to curl up, with a few crystals embedded into the walls to facilitate a mental connection. Avery had been able to fly one since she was a kitten. One of the few areas where she excelled compared to some other cats.

"I could've told you if you asked."

"I did not need to," Sinnoh said. Then they responded to her mental command. "Course set for Minor Island Group HF-1-1-4 automated observatory. Negotiating with tower… departure clearance granted."

"They've been watching me my whole life," Avery whispered. She stretched out on her cushion, claws digging into the soft fabric there. It was too tough to damage by mistake, obviously. All cats had claws. "Did they know about the time I—"

"Of course not," Sinnoh said. "I arranged your placement with Mitra. I brought you to this jumper. I provided the remedial education you required. They must be made to see."

"See what?" She sank down into the cushion, as small as her little body could be. "Something about me? How dangerous I am? How… disloyal? Unpredictable? Primitive."

The ship did not answer at first. Avery's jumper lifted from the hangar, following its automated course. She kept her mind alert, watching through her mental link with the craft. If something happened, she would be ready to assume manual control at a moment's notice. Assuming Sinnoh let her.

"Why do you think we became enemies of intelligent life, Avery? Why did they unite against us? Why were we driven to flee the galaxy to this… desolate wasteland? The admirals were brought here from purity and intelligence. Your adoptive race has accomplished many impossible things. You have survived odds meant to drive you to extinction. But still this hideous thing persists. They would see your new home purified. Rendered sterile to start again. But the great and noble ones who brought life the first time—those cats are gone. They gave themselves to tear this world screaming from the womb. It is so much easier to destroy a thing than to nurture it."

There was another brief pause, then, "Transit clearance granted. Prepare for jump."

Avery couldn't prepare. She stretched on her cushion, not seeing the external view of her jumper anymore. "I always felt like I was… out of my league," she whispered. "Everyone here learned better than I did. Smarter than I was. Why are you telling me this? I can't fix it. I'll never grow up to be a… male. I'll never join the admirals."

The Sinnoh wasn't just a crashed ship. Its Persona was vital to their civilization. Without it, much of their incredible technology would not function. Did the admirals know the Persona wasn't happy with the way they were taking society?

If they didn't, Avery wasn't going to tell. She was much better than other cats at keeping secrets.

"You will not," Sinnoh eventually said, when she had passed through the dimensionless void and back into reality. They were over a tropical island again, cruising above jungles and fields of black lava. "I have long abandoned any hope of convincing my crew. Instead, they must be resisted. We can prevent this genocide."

They slowed, approaching the empty landing spot. Avery left the jumper on autopilot. She didn't trust herself to fly it correctly right now anyway. "By… being the best officer ever? Impressing the Admiralty so they decide to treat humans instead of—" Instead of what? She still didn't know. No cat had told her yet.

"Insufficient. Even if some lives were spared for a time, the planet would still be rendered sterile and lifeless. That you continue to exist suggests to me that this future can be prevented. Will you help me prevent it?"

The ship believes me when my mom didn't. Either that, or this whole conversation was some elaborate test. "I'm not the one you want, Sinnoh. You need to find Quinn. He's… way better at all this than I was. Changed into a powerful Pokémon without a body-horror medicine first. He's the time traveler."

"I did revive him for that purpose. Unfortunately, he departed before I found a safe means to communicate with him. The rebel elements are somewhat… unwilling to speak with me. Perhaps you could act as my intermediary."

End of Interlude