Klawde--Evil Alien Warlord Cat--Enemies #2 Read online

Page 3


  The mother cat slunk out of the shadows and hissed at me.

  “Hello, madam,” I said. “My name is Wyss-Kuzz, and I come to you this morning as a recruiter for intergalactic warriors.”

  She tilted her head to one side and blinked.

  “May I meet your children?”

  She yawned, lay down, and closed her eyes.

  I took that as a yes.

  “Wake, young ones!” I said, walking over to their napping place. “It is time to meet your destiny!”

  The two gray boys looked at me sleepily. The calico girl, however, launched herself at my face! Only my lightning-quick reflexes allowed me to dodge her attack.

  I liked her already.

  I turned to their mother. “Your children show great potential. May I take them under my claw? I would like them to be the first class in my new training academy.”

  She didn’t bother looking up. One of the boys went to nurse and she swatted him away. Clearly she was ready to wean them.

  I reached out a paw and touched the calico she-kitten’s head. This rudimentary mind-meld told me all I needed to know: The minds of these kittens were still free of Human corruption.

  These little creatures could be taught.

  The two boys now went to play with their sister, who swatted them both with one blow. Soon all three were viciously tackling each other. They possessed more fighting spirit than I had seen in any other creature on this planet.

  “Young cadets!” I cried. “Follow me!”

  They seemed to understand my language—another first—and were most pleased to do as I asked.

  Well, they started doing as I asked. But after following me into the yard, one of the boys ran off after a butterfly and the other scampered halfway up a tree and then hung there, mewing pitifully. The calico, on the other paw, began stalking a squirrel.

  I snatched her by the scruff of her neck and held her in my jaws in Vanquished Prey position.

  As all kittens do, she immediately surrendered into serene calmness. I began walking to the fortress again, and her brothers followed obediently behind me.

  As I held her neck between my teeth, I remembered the last time I held a young kit in my maw, oh so many years ago. Ffangg.

  I would not repeat the mistakes I had made with him. I would create soldiers that would never—could never—turn against me.

  CHAPTER 13

  So far the second day of school was going even better than the first.

  After taking attendance, Miss Emmy Jo spent the rest of homeroom showing us pictures of her miniature horse. “Isn’t Gummy Bear just the cutest little muffin top y’all have ever seen?”

  He kind of was.

  At lunch, the cool kids invited me to their table. One of them even got up to give me his seat. It was like I had entered some kind of alternate dimension.

  They kept asking about living in New York, and I started to exaggerate some. It was hard not to with an audience like this—they kept begging for more! So I told them about the time our house got broken into. (It was actually just our downstairs neighbor’s dog walker coming into our apartment by mistake.) And I told them about sitting next to the mayor on the F train. (Okay, it was probably just a guy who looked like him. But he really, really looked like him!)

  Even what should have been the worst moment of the day turned out well. In the hallway, I bumped into an eighth-grade girl by mistake. Hard. She was a foot taller than me and about ten times as cool, and I’d just made her spill her bottle of water all down her dress.

  “Are you the new kid?” she asked.

  I nodded in fear. “Sorry?”

  “Is it true you were in Americaman: Killer Kar 4 Hire?”

  “Uh, yeah?” I said.

  Then she smiled. At me! “Cool. See you around.”

  I walked into robotics with the biggest grin in the world.

  “I hope you all have arrived brimming with good ideas,” Miss Natasha said. “Discuss them with your team and then begin selecting components in the back of the lab. After that, we’ll reconvene to discuss what you’ve come up with.”

  Newt and Scorpion immediately dove into the pile of parts. Newt was fast, and she grabbed a brand-new drone and held it over her head triumphantly.

  Steve’s face fell. “I wanted that drone,” he said.

  “We’re supposed to figure out what we’re going to do first,” Cedar reminded him.

  As we talked, Scorpion snatched the controls away from Newt and piloted the drone straight into a wall.

  “So what can we do that’s going to help the school?” Cedar asked.

  Steve scrunched up his face like he was thinking really hard. It looked painful.

  “How about a robot that builds chairs?” I suggested. I was only half kidding. (Standing through English was seriously tiring.) But then I had a great idea.

  “I know!” I said. “Since none of the water fountains in this school ever work, how about we make a robot that gives out water?”

  Cedar and Steve looked at me like I was stupid. After I quickly sketched out my concept, though, Cedar nodded and said, “I like it.”

  “But will it try to take over the world?” Steve asked. “Like that self-driving car in Americaman?”

  “No,” Cedar and I both said.

  When Miss Natasha asked everyone to talk about their robots, I got up and explained our plan. Our robot would roam the halls of school, dispensing water through a faucet appendage. “It will eliminate waste from plastic bottles,” I said, “and promote good hydration.”

  “Very good, Raj! Excellent idea,” Miss Natasha said. Then she turned to Scorpion. “What about your team?”

  Scorpion grinned. “You know how Principal Brownepoint hates it when kids wear their pants too low? Well, our drone’s going to go around and help kids pull their pants up. It’s called the Butt-bot.”

  The entire class started laughing. Except Miss Natasha.

  “I’m going to suggest you rethink your goal and your robot’s name,” she said. “Because if a drone reached for my waistband, I’d slap it right out of the sky.”

  CHAPTER 14

  The second day of Wyss-Kuzz’s Warrior Academy went markedly better with the new recruits.

  After my initial experience teaching Earth cats, I decided to dispense with the sciences and high-level mathematics altogether. The kittens had already missed too much of the basics to catch up. Besides, they were going to be warriors, not philosophers. The only geometry they needed to learn was the trajectory of a pounce!

  After allowing them some open battle time, I assembled my recruits for an inspiring speech. I quoted liberally from Battle Is the Most Magnificent Competition in Which a Cat Can Indulge, the ancient text I had memorized when I was six weeks old.

  “Cadets!” I cried. “Since the dawn of time, when primitive cats first marked trees with their claws and filled the night with their yowls, we have understood a very basic truth: Each cat is his own master. But!” I cleared my throat, and the kittens blinked. “Some cats are more masterful than others.”

  The boys seemed to struggle to comprehend; the calico, on the other paw, nodded in agreement. I continued my inspiring lecture until the sun was high in the sky, and ended with the immortal words of the original warmonger, Myttynz the Mrowdyr: There is no nobler pastime than vanquishing your enemies.

  The kittens lapped it up! Then we did battle ball drills.

  For snack time, I presented the kittens with the insipid brown pellets the Humans insisted on leaving out for me. They devoured them all.

  After a brisk focus nap, I demonstrated the nine fundamental poses of Mew-Jytzu and concluded the day with a sparring session. The gray twins fought each other to a tie. Their form was quite sloppy.

  “No, no! You must strike with your claws extended!” I hissed.

&
nbsp; The calico needed no such pointers. She dispatched each of her brothers so quickly that, for the final match, I paired both boys against her. The fight was even, until one of the grays caught the calico with a strike to the head that sent her sliding across the floor. She crouched in a corner, meowing pitifully. Had she been injured? Had I overestimated her fighting skills?

  The boys went to check on the state of their sister. Once they were near, the girl sprang forward with a leap so lightning-fast, they had no time to react. She landed on their backs, slashing and biting and yowling with glee.

  By Lyttyrboks’s eighty-seven moons, this calico was a fierce warrior! So fierce, in fact, that she reminded me of the greatest warrior I had ever encountered.

  Myself.

  CHAPTER 15

  At breakfast, Klawde came up for his egg and butter and immediately disappeared again. It had been like this for a week or two. He’d been acting stranger than ever, and sometimes I heard crazy sounds coming from downstairs. Crazier than usual, I mean.

  I wondered if he was feeling okay. There was certainly a lot of poop in the litter box these days—what happened to him using the toilet?

  I would talk to him this afternoon, even if that meant not staying so late after school working on the robot in the RBX Lab. Steve had been begging me and Cedar for a break anyway.

  In homeroom, Miss Emmy Jo showed us videos from her most recent miniature horse show.

  “And this is me leading Gummy Bear over a jumping course! Can you BELIEVE how high that little corn dog can jump?”

  In truth, it wasn’t very high at all. What was more impressive was Miss Emmy Jo trotting alongside of him in her glittering denim jumpsuit. How could she run with all those sequins on?

  The rest of the day was just me making it through my classes until I got to robotics. I’d never looked forward to a class so much before.

  The parts Miss Natasha had were amazing—way better than what we’d had at Brooklyn Robot Factory. And everything was totally plug-and-play, like Legos almost.

  We’d chosen a rolling chassis for our robot’s main body. Cedar had the genius idea of sticking recycled, sterilized water bottles to the outside shell so kids could pull them off and re-use them.

  We’d gotten a recorder so our robot could have a voice. And then there were the sounds the buttons made.

  This was Steve’s contribution. We rigged up the carbon dioxide canister from his parents’ old Fizz-Master so kids could have sparkling water. They could choose how sparkling by pressing buttons for how much gas to add. They were marked:

  REGULAR

  FIZZY

  SUPER-FIZZY

  MEGA-FIZZY

  But they could’ve been labeled no fart, farty, super-farty, and mega-farty because that was the sound they made with each release of gas. Steve laughed every time he pressed one.

  Every time.

  The last thing we needed to work out were the spigots, which were old water pistols connected to hoses. This was my idea.

  The Aqua-Bot looked SO COOL!

  Scorpion and Newt’s drone, on the other hand, looked like a pile of debris. It had one robot arm and a scary-looking pincer thing that was supposed to open and close but was permanently stuck halfway in between.

  “Hey, Brooklyn,” Scorpion called to me.

  I was amazed he was calling me by my cool new nickname, and in a tone like he didn’t want to kill me.

  “Could you . . . uh . . . well . . .” Scorpion hemmed and hawed.

  “He wants you to help us with this pincer thingie,” Newt said.

  It took me only about ten seconds to find the problem, and another five minutes to fix it. Now the robot’s pincer opened and shut with a clack.

  “Wow,” Newt said. “Maybe you’re not a loser after all.”

  “Yeah,” Scorpion added. “Maybe not.”

  “Were they actually nice to you?” Cedar asked when I got back to our table.

  “Robots have taken them over,” Steve said. “It’s the only explanation.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Today was a most important day. The first thirteen sunrises of Wyss-Kuzz’s Warrior Academy for Kitten Commandos had gone supremely well. The boys had completed the basics of Mew-Jytzu and were ready to graduate to Star Paw level. The calico, however, had already qualified for advanced Nova Paw certification.

  This amazed me. Not even Ffangg had reached Nova Paw so quickly.

  For the ceremony, we had an audience, as Ginger and Flabby Tabby had both been frequenting the bunker lately: Ginger because she liked to spar, and Flabby because he had nothing better to do.

  After the ritualistic rubbing of cheeks and slash of the claw, I spoke a few words about the bright future all three kittens had as the nucleus of my elite force.

  And then it was time to eat. For myself only, however. The kittens had to wait until the Humans slept, and even then were allowed only the brown pellets for sustenance. A soldier must get used to spartan rations.

  Upstairs, I performed the usual charade of begging for food. I did my best impression of an annoying Earth cat, mewling and howling until they served me.

  “Stop it, Klawde!” the mother-Human said, putting down a bowl for me. “My eardrums are going to start bleeding!”

  Ah, if only!

  The food was indeed delicious this night, a warm liquid combination of milk, butter, and something pink.

  “You like that tomato bisque, do you, boy?” the father-Human said. “And with all the kibble you’ve been eating, too! You better watch the midnight binge-eating—you don’t want to get tubby!”

  “Look who’s talking,” the mother-Human said.

  The father-Human patted his belly as if he were proud of it, and that was when I heard it: the high-pitched mewing! The sound was not coming from down in the bunker—it was much closer.

  The young warriors were coming up the stairs!

  “Do I hear . . . ?” the boy-Human began to say.

  “It’s nothing!” I said. I was so quick to cut him off, however, that I forgot to pretend that I couldn’t speak their imbecilic tongue.

  The room fell silent.

  Raj and I looked at each other. The boy-Human’s face filled with fear.

  “Did Klawde just . . . ,” the father-ogre said. “Talk?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” the mother-ogre said. “His brain functions at only a slightly higher level than that gargantuan fern you brought home.”

  “But I could swear he said . . .” The bald ogre thought for a second, his puny brain trying to process what he’d just heard. Finally he gave up.

  “Mrow?” I said.

  “See?” the mother-Human said. “Houseplant. With vocal cords.”

  My disguise safe, I raced to the bunker steps. The kittens were almost at the top, sniffing their way toward the food! The calico, of course, was leading the way.

  I quickly snatched her up in Vanquished Prey position and whisked her down to the bunker. Thankfully, the simple-minded boys followed. Once I spit her into the cardboard box where they slept, I tossed the boys in, too.

  “A soldier must have patience!” I scolded them. “You must be able to control such base desires as hunger!”

  The calico bit me.

  She was a true fighter.

  Then:

  “Klawde?”

  It was the boy-Human’s voice. He was coming down the stairs!

  “Is there another cat down here?” the boy-ogre said. “I heard normal meowing.”

  “NO! Absolutely not!” I said. “I am only practicing the . . . the . . . the barbaric language of Earth cats.”

  The gullible ogre might have believed me. Might have, that is, had the calico not come bounding out of her sleep-box and attacked the laces of the boy-Human’s foot coverings.

  “What . . .
,” he said, “is this?”

  At that, the two boys leaped out.

  The jig was up!

  What would happen now? Knowing this boy-ogre’s do-good instincts—his absurd “morals”—he would insist on returning them.

  What could I do? He was now holding all three of them in that ogreish death grip of his. I was terrified of what he would do to my precious recruits.

  “I don’t care about anything else in this world, Klawde,” he said, his eyes wide and full of wonder. “But we must keep these kittens!”

  Purrrrr.

  CHAPTER 17

  Just when I thought life couldn’t get any better: kittens!

  Three of them!

  I could not believe how cute they were. All weekend long, I played with them down in the basement.

  “Stop with your accursed affection!” Klawde said. “You are going to turn them into soft Earth cats with all this ‘petting’!”

  The two gray ones, maybe. But the calico—she was like some sort of demon. I was a little afraid of her. My shins and arms already looked like scratching posts.

  I still didn’t quite understand how Klawde had managed to adopt them. And why did he want three kittens anyway?

  “Er, um, well . . . ,” he said. “It is because of that lonely thing you were talking about. Yes! I am lonely.”

  I was pretty sure Klawde was lying.

  But I didn’t care, because—again—KITTENS!

  Plus, I hadn’t been exactly 100 percent truthful myself lately.

  Kids at school kept wanting to know more about my Americaman connection, and I sort of started exaggerating that, too. Like how I used to watch Mrs. Addams draw stuff—which was true—and how I would suggest plots to her—also true—and how she would take my suggestions—not true. She always said she was going to use my ideas, but she never did.

  I also kind of implied that Cam and I texted every day, and that I might be featured in the next Americaman book.