INTRODUCTION

"Scientists of the National Aeronautics and Space Administration, NASA, have announced today that the super telescope Kepler-II, just recently launched into orbit, will have to be shut down for maintenance," the news anchor announced on CNN. A small cat lay leisurely on her back, atop a cushion on the sofa. Her owner cooked, listening to an old country music radio station.

"The equipment is fine," a bald NASA scientist told the reporter. "The software might require further adjustments as it appears to have coding redundancies, nothing too serious. You see, our systems detected an object moving faster than light on the outskirts of Saturn – and, uh, well, that is impossible. Although last year Italian scientists did announce the discovery that neutrinos moved faster than light, it has been proven a mistake; and, on top of that, the object we detected is of considerable mass."

Although lazy, the cat seemed to pay attention to the bright screen and funny sounds. She loves television, as her 83-year-old owner tells the neighbors. That’s why I bought this old 14-inch television set, just for her. They charged me just fifty dollars!"

The kitty rolled on her back and dangled her head off the edge. On the television, the bald scientist was now smiling with a certain hint of arrogance.

"…the scientific community dismisses such ludicrous, childish concepts… that there exists a group of super-powered, intergalactic feline entities in outer space!"

"There have been multiple sightings of the creature known as Photon Dash, sir, and there is a study published in 2006 that says—"

"—an alien cheetah who can bend every single law of Physics known to man," the interviewee interrupted the reporter. "Please, miss Rose, these are just stories we entertain our children with, merely comic-books folklore. Now, if you excuse me, I have much work to do. Thank you."

A tired voice called from the kitchen. "Miss Cutie?" The old lady limped into the living room, touching her way towards the couch, sitting down. She placed a kitty food bowl by the cat and took a knitting kit from the coffee table. "What are you watching, Miss Cutie? You know I’m as blind as the love!"

She laughed.

It was Sunday morning and Fuzzy pranced about in the backyard, amongst her owner’s rose gardens. The rose thorns claimed much of the woman’s hands before she learned to wear gardening gloves. Despite her blindness, she was a terrific gardener.

Fuzzy prowled and pounced at butterflies, ladybugs and hummingbirds, though never catching anything. She meowed and hissed at every tiny creature that threatened the sovereignty of her suburban empire. Her owner, old Miss Martha, laughed out loudly whenever her flower bushes ruffled suddenly.

"You go, Cutie, remove the plagues off my roses!"

All of Marthas’ neighbors cared deeply for the old lady as if she were their own grandmother. Countless times, throughout decades, she babysat children whose mothers and fathers needed to work, all across the San Raphael district. That included hundreds of pets, from lizards to parrots.

"Lunch time, granny!"

It was around noon when the Jenny girl, who lived across the street, yelled from the fence. Martha effortfully pulled herself up and dusted her hands on her already dirty apron.

"I’m coming, dear!"

Fuzzy did not like her. Jenny owned an energetic Siberian husky, who tirelessly insisted on playing with her, and the kitty could not stand the canine scent. So Miss Cutie just leapt across the garden towards the kitchen cat door and proceeded to eat alone.

"I’ll shower before eating, Miss Cutie," Martha called from the living room. "Old mama taught me never to present myself at the table all stinky and sweaty. Disrespectful, she said! I turned the TV on your favorite show."

Feet stomped upstairs and a door shut locked.

Miss Cutie strutted across the carpet and cuddled herself on the cushion, already commencing her post-lunch hygiene. Lick after lick, the television hissed and the standard-definition image formed.

"Reports from all around the world have shown a mysterious, shining object flying through the morning sky," a black man in a suit announced on the screen. The anchor then played several amateur footages of what seemed to be a bright and rapid shooting star against the black sky. "Scientists have issued a statement, declaring the phenomenon to be rather common and saying that the object is, in fact, a simple small asteroid."

Cutie’s ears twitched and she stood on all fours, attentively watching the TV; the colorful lights had her hypnotized. The cat learned to enjoy the news station, mostly because Martha did not know how to switch channels. Plus, having voices speaking in the house helped the elder woman fight her solitude. Marthas’ family bought her that house in the suburbs after the old lady had gone blind due to the cataract. Although a simple surgery could have fixed it, they simply abandoned her. It had been ten years since and the old lady learned to fare well on her own inside her own house.

That was until three years ago, when her granddaughter suddenly showed up at Marthas’ doorstep. As her granny prepared a batch of cookies, the girl simply vanished, leaving behind a wicker basket filled by one tabby ball of white, black and yellow fur; a newborn kitten, later baptized as Cutie the First, nicknamed Miss Cutie.

And the reason the now three-year-old kitty had been seduced by the television was because of the universe. She fell in love with the stars after watching several special programs and documentaries on astrophysics by known scientists Neil DeGrasse-Tyson and Mitio Kaku. The TV currently displayed an elaborate infographic of the galaxy, dissecting planets, stars and comets, summarizing very succinctly the Big Bang Theory. Fuzzy could not stop watching those planets, similar to her colorful felt toys. The artists even included two cute easter-aggs: an almost imperceptive flash near Saturn and a small Pluto shedding a tear of sadness.

"Annually, the Earth is hit by an average of eighty thousand meteorites of varied sizes," it was the same bald man from last night, now properly labeled as ’Head of Observation and Research’. "They are mostly very small and disintegrate as soon as they hit our atmosphere. The comet of today is slightly bigger than average but don’t you worry – its trajectory led us to conclude it will follow its course through the northern hemisphere and slingshot towards Jupiter. Once it hits the Red Planet, Curiosity-II will be able to collect samples."

"The comet was first spotted over Adelaide, south of Australia, and the mathematicians here at CNN have calculated it will fly over New York by nightfall, within a few hours, so get your telescopes ready!

Now let’s talk about sports! The Phoenix Suns beat Miami Heat 107 to 98 on the second playoffs this season…"

Cutie had her mouth opened and she did not know why. Her pupils were fully dilated as if she was hunting in the dark. There was something in the air, she could feel it; and it was not her usual fascination with the outer space. There was something calling for her, urging her instincts.

Miss Cutie jumped off the couch and slowly walked to the kitchen. She pushed the cat door with her head and stepped outside. She sat on the grass and looked to the sky. Martha called her and she did not respond. The cat remained still for almost three hours, until the sun had finally set and she could see the tiny ball of light, moving fast across the orange sky. She finally saw a comet!

The comet, however, was growing, and growing. It was moving towards the Earth;

Towards the suburban house of Cutie the Cat.

CHAPTER I – NEW FRONTIERS

Monday morning; rainy.

News stations did not report the story of a small suburban house demolished by the brutality of an otherworldly impact, nor about a crater the size of two football stadiums, as a measurement metaphor so commonly used, in the middle of the suburbs. They were instead reporting downtown traffic, NasdaQ stocks, international policy and celebrity news.

The ’comet’, however, did fall on Earth; and it did fall on old Martha’s and Miss Cutie’s property. Right before the impact, though, the asteroid slowed down and fluttered inside the house, depositing itself on the cat’s bed, nesting itself like an ostrich egg against kitty blankets. It was a perfect, smooth sphere, of polished silver brighter than anything ever created by Man. And Miss Cutie was in awe, glaring at it, devouring it with her cat eyes, feeling things she had never felt before. The "comet", the size of a basketball, had an eerie glow, a faint, gold, shimmering light, phasing in and out, and emanating a comforting warmth that was both hypnotizing and enticing.

"Miss Cutie, breakfast is served," old Martha yelled from the living room. "Do you remember if I turned the heating on this morning? The house is so cold!"

"No, you didn’t," the cat thought. Sudden realization struck her in the brain and she freaked out. She hissed, meowed and rolled furiously across the carpet, breathing heavily, and scratching her head furiously. "What was that?!" she thought again, and then looked at the silver sphere.

It, somehow, was responsible for it. The cat did not know what it was, but she knew quite surely that it was a problem.

"Okay," she thought. "I can think as a human, but can I speak as one…?"

The thought of the possibility frightened her and Cutie hesitated for several long minutes before opening the jaw.

Meow!

"Good, I can’t speak," she was relieved. She was now a dozen feet away from the silver sphere, now afraid of what it was and what it could further do to her. She needed more time to think, now rationally. The cat strode through the living room and leapt on the sofa, pressing the green ON button on the television controller. There must have any reports regarding this comet, she thought. Anything would help her.

She flipped through the channels and there was absolutely nothing about it. Maybe the mainstream media channels grew tired of covering Astronomy. However, on the sixty-seventh channel, The Space Travel Channel, hidden behind blurry images and interference, there was a weird woman vociferating on Illuminati and other Conspiration Theories. Fuzzy sat on the couch’s sidearm and paid attention. It was terribly terrifying to finally being able to rationally comprehend the human language.

"What I have here is a set of over fifty eight photographs, taken by me and by my associates in the span of five hours, comprising the arrival of that said ’comet’. As you can see from this one," she raised a large picture to the camera, her index finger pointing at a seemingly random pixel near the moon. "The ’comet’ simply disappeared, vanished, and went invisible, right when overflying New York. This has been an obvious government conspiracy to hide the truth from its people!"

It was one of those programs nobody watched, filled with caricatured personages, crackpots and the usual doomsayers who blabbed about the Armageddon in Times Square or near a McDonald’s booth. But Cutie was worried. Someone had noticed the comet’s disappearance, she thought. She shook her head, it ached and she curled herself into a ball, covering her ears; too many voices, too many ideas, too much thinking. She could not stop it and it was even more overwhelming than when the Husky barked nonstop at her.

She ran back to her bed and stood by the silver sphere, which continued to glow faintly.

This is not a comet, she concluded, as comets are rocks and dirty snow, as she had learned on the Beakman Show once. And comets don’t flutter to kitty beds. What is this…?

Steps; Cutie freaked out and ran away, towards the kitchen to intercept old Miss Martha. Jenny had already brought lunch so her owner could fix the cat’s food.

"Who turned the television off? Was it me? Oh, deeply sorry, Miss Cutie," the old lady said as she sat down. “I think it’s my memory that’s going blind now!”

"You didn’t; I did. Sorry," Fuzzy thought and shook her head. It was really strange. She was at least thankful that she could not speak. In all the cartoons and movies she had ever watched, humans never reacted calmly to talking animals.

After lunch, Fuzzy cuddled against her owner and instantly slept; her mind was exhausted.

Midnight.

Cutie woke up. She looked everywhere then jumped to the sofa’s sidearm. The half-moon shone silvery outside the window against a star-littered, pitch-black sky. The cat just walked back and forth on the couch before jumping down and heading to the kitchen. Her water bowl was empty and she was thirsty.

Sitting by the kitchen’s entrance, the kitty swept the environment with her cunning eyes. She remembered what lay inside each cupboard along the wall. The refrigerator was on the opposite side of the backdoor, which meant that cleaning products, bleach, detergent, alcohol and other dangerous substances were kept in the cabinet above it. Keep them safe from children and animals, the advertisements on TV always said.

The microwave stood to the right of the fridge, against the tile wall and, next to it, a small electric oven, never used; broken for years, Cutie could now smell the unpleasant scent of burnt wire and carbon monoxide. Yes, she thought. The oven short-circuited a while ago, I remember it. Her nose seemed more sensitive than before, but she gave it no further thought.

The cooktop oven, embedded onto the balcony, right next to the microwave, had frying pans, stewpots, saucepans and small cauldrons hidden underneath it. And above the traditional oven, powdered dough and other baking goods were stashed.

This led the cat to the sink, the place with the faucet. She had seen Miss Martha open it many times before and it was easy, though sometimes the valve got stuck and the old lady had to ask the neighbors for help.

The counter was tall, and Cutie always had troubles reaching it. She usually had to first jump onto a chair or stool. That night, for some reasons, she decided to try and reach it from the ground. She crouched on her hind legs and forced the feet into a strong bound, which tossed the kitty like a cannonball against half a dozen glasses and plates resting on the draining board!

Everything bounced and fell and crashed on the floor, sending a terrible wave of shattering sounds that echoed throughout the entire house. Cutie sank into herself near the wall and stood immovable and silent.

How did that happen? she asked herself. She must have miscalculated the distance; maybe she was closer than she thought. No, it could not have been it. She felt it clearly, very clearly – more clearly than usual, now that she thought of it. Her muscles were different, as well as her eyes: the deep darkness of the night now seemed like a slightly dark morning. Her eyes had adjusted themselves beyond perfection to the pit.

Thankfully, the old lady slept like a rock and always locked her bedroom door every night. Everything that stood between her and the water was now the tap. It was an old aluminum piece, installed on the wall, with a curved neck above the sink. The valve was comprised of a central chromed bolt with five metallic protruding axis. Cutie forced it. Tried it again, and again; too hard.

Okay, just a bit more of strength.

She put another paw on the valve and forced her own weight below. The valve rolled quickly and the tap shot a strong jet of water against the drain, where a small dessert spoon rested innocently.

Mreeooow!

Water sprayed in every direction, creating a small hydro pump upwards, soaking the kitty, the floor, the wall and the cabinets. Cutie hid her face and forced the valve to the other side, closing the water flow. Terrified, tired and soaking wet, the kitty stepped down the counter and slept in the backyard.