The Simmering Mind

This is the first of two flash fiction pieces that were requested by winners of my blog giveaway last year (long overdue, my apologies!).  Fellow author H.L. Burke wanted me to write a flash piece about “cat invaders.”  So without further ado… 😀

Catastrophe

The head of Secret Service stood by the drapes, sweat dripping down his forehead. “We’re surrounded.” Through the window of the Oval Office, small alien ships glistened in the sunlight…an unbroken ring of them around the White House.

The First Lady gripped the arm of her chair so tightly that President Burke thought she would break it. “Where is Emily?”

“Why haven’t you found her already?” the President snapped.

“Mr. President, the systems are down. She – ”

“I’m here! Don’t worry, Mama, I’m here!” Emily Burke scurried into the room, clutching a furry object tight to her chest.

The last Secret Service member clamped the door shut behind her, grunting through his teeth, “She went after the cat.”

“Oh, for the love – ”

A window shattered.

The entire first family ducked, screaming. With a clunk, a round projectile landed in the middle of the carpet, steam rising from it in tendrils.

“It’s a bomb!” the First Lady screeched.

Guards swarmed toward the object.

Then a tinny, electric voice said, “We. Do not. Wish to bomb you.”

“Wait, stop.” The president stepped forward. “It’s a communicator. How are they speaking English?” He directed the next question to the metal ball on the carpet. “Uh…greetings. What brought you to our planet?”

There was a strange garble of squalling noises, hisses, and thrumming sounds, and then came the translation. “We came. To command. Our servants.”

“You have servants here on Earth?” The president’s blood ran cold.

“You. Are. Our. Servants. Ha. Ha ha.”

Did it just translate a laugh? Skin cold with sweat, he stuttered, “I’m sure we can arrange something more amicable than that.”

“No arrangements are necessary.” The translator seemed to be picking up speed. “You will obey us. There is. No alternative. I wish to speak with. My head agent.”

Young Emily had gone stiff with shock during the exchange, and now the gray cat in her arms leapt to the floor, unhindered by her limp hands.

“Yes. Mr. President. We are here on Earth,” the voice continued. “We are in your homes. We are on your streets. We. Control. Your internet.”

The cat strode toward the electric ball. The nearest Serviceman moved to kick it away, and Emily suddenly came alive and threw herself in the way. “Stop it! He doesn’t know any better!” She trembled.

The cat licked her face.

“You see. You are doomed,” said the communicator. “Your people. Already. Stoop to save us.”

While the rest of the room sat frozen, the cat strode to the communicator with its tail high in dignity, and licked the camera at the front.

An audible cat’s purr sounded through the device. “Mission accomplished, Agent Fluffy. We will advance. On your signal. You shall be our occupying governor.”

Fluffy lifted his nose high and jumped onto the Oval Office Desk, where he curled his tail around him with an air of majesty, staring down at his subjects. “Meow.”

The End