"…and now come Cats!" (prologue)
PROLOGUE
Narrative of Gladys Stooping Falcon, Imperial Summoner in Extraordinary
I've seen a lot of strange things. It comes with the territory. I've seen a man who had been reincarnated take the Oath Beyond Death for a second time. I've seen the Emperor weep. But this... this was strange.
Not that I had been expecting boredom when I returned to my rented room to find a slip of paper bearing a carefully-handwritten address in the docks-and-locks district and a caution to "come discreetly" - as though I would do anything else. Whoever had found out what I was, and left me a note on the wrong side of an air-seal door rather than approach me directly, had to be an unusual customer. It could have been a trap, of course, but even that would have been worth finding out about, and it's no boast to say that I can find some way out of almost any bad situation.
But I hadn't been expecting a warehouse filled with shipping containers and... anthropomorphic cats. Even that wasn't the strange part, though. Faced with a couple of hundred cat people, you'd expect purring, hissing, and yowling, grooming singly or in groups, rough-housing, tail-chasing, fighting, activity - not silence and stillness, but there it was. Scarcely a murmur, hardly an ear or a tail twitching ; they seemed caught between total despair and breathless anticipation.
A couple of older males had been crouched near the door when I opened it, clearly ready to commit mayhem on any unwanted visitors. Unless these people were a lot less feline than they appeared, they must be in desperate straits to be protecting the females and young that way. One of them approached me, hands (paws?) held out to the sides, claws retracted, clearly trying for 'non-threatening'. I decided to beat him to the punch. "You here are the remnant of your people, I suppose. Your creators turned on you, but some of you managed to flee ; now, pursued by your enemies and without power to save yourselves, you implore the protection of the Emperor, whose hand raises up the humble and crushes the proud, and in return you are willing to swear fealty to him, yourselves and your descendants forever. Is that about it?"
The old fellow bristled -- good, at least he had some spirit left -- and then slumped again. "More or less," he half muttered.
"Surely you must realize it's not that easy."
"Of course --" again that flash, as quickly stilled "-- but what other hope is there for us?"
"Most jurisdictions will protect refugees from slavery or genocide." I watched him wince as I bared my teeth in what he certainly wouldn't mistake for a smile. "We try to make sure of that. So there must be something else, something you need, or some exceptional circumstance. So let's get that out in the open, shall we? Because you certainly wouldn't want to try to conceal anything..."