Chapter 24: Fierce Cat Checkup Part 1

Good thing even if it crashed, it was still a powerful machine. Alpha-13 quickly disconnected from the net and cut the power, then hurried off nonstop to clean up the short-legged cat.

“Aiya?” The cat spoke innocently. “Why’s the power out? It’s so dark, Xun, I can’t find you.”

“Li. Oh. Oh.”

Li Ao heard the voice and turned his head. He came face-to-face with the robot’s flat, expressionless face. He inexplicably felt guilty and tugged his ears. Sensing something off in the atmosphere, he lifted a paw and turned to flee.

Ground-hugging Supercar activated. But as soon as he got moving, he was seized by the merciless iron grip and forcibly speed-limited, forced to pull over.

“What did you do?” Alpha-13 pried open the disobedient cat ears. “Didn’t I tell you not to mess with things?”

The Fierce Cat had been feeling guilty at first, but once his ears were grabbed, he immediately flared up. He twisted around and threw two solid punches. “I didn’t mess with anything! Machine, you’re awful—wronging this cat!”

These little short claws packed quite the punch? The robot was momentarily baffled. Had his strength ever been this strong before? While it was dazed, the little cat had already wriggled free.

“I’d barely stepped in when that thing lit up on its own. It asked for my name—of course I answered.” Li Ao put on his fiercest cat face, his paws slapping the ground pa pa. Grandma had said responding to someone’s greeting was basic manners!

“Li Ao.” The little monster was watching the drama unfold, not afraid to stir the pot. It chirped something to the little cat in an encrypted channel no one else could hear.

“That’s right, Li Ao’s mad.”

Alpha-13 ignored it and powered the system back up to inspect the Star Network program. It confirmed the trigger had been automatic, and the little cat had only just logged in without contacting anyone. The massive weight in its programming finally dropped, freeing it up to look at the cat.

Its electronic eyes glanced down—to a puffed-up little cat head.

“…” Small brain, big attitude. But it really had wronged him. The robot admitted its mistake. “Sorry.”

“If sorry did any good, what would we need police uncles for?” The little cat might be small, but he’d watched way too many TV shows. He rattled off the lines perfectly. “You hurt Miao’s feelings—Miao is furious.”

“…So what now?”

“I want—I want—” The little cat angrily scanned his surroundings, then locked onto the stickers on the robot. “No more stickers for you!”

The Fierce Cat had some swagger, but not much.

Not tall enough, he clambered onto Xun. He raised a little paw and ripped off a dusty sticker.

Some of the backing was still stuck to the machine’s shell. The mechanical arm brushed it, stirring some weird emotion in its program. Once upon a time, it had thought these things were hideously ugly. But now that one was actually torn off, it felt… reluctant. Seeing the little cat still puffed up and ready to rip more, it shifted aside to evade and negotiated in a low voice. “No more tearing, okay?”

Li Ao froze for a second, then shot it a glare. “Then… then…”

Then forgive it? Reborn and freshly equipped with friends, the Fierce Cat wasn’t great at staying mad. He wavered.

The robot also knew its stiff apology lacked sincerity. It inventoried the living area’s stock and confirmed some food remained. “I’ll make you tomato soup.”

Tomato? Soup? The Fierce Cat slurped involuntarily. Fierce Cat waffled hard.

“And there’s some cake mix left. I can bake you a little—”

“Deal!” The cat paw slammed down on the mechanical arm like a stamp. “Miao forgives you—hurry up and make it!”

Foodies were this easy to appease.

The little monster blinked, curious to see what this tomato soup and little cake business was and how it was done.

Not bad for something taught paw-to-paw by Li Little Cat—its thought process was plenty quirky.

Supplies were limited. The so-called tomato soup was really just tomato sauce diluted with water, boiled, then thickened with tiny flour dumplings.

These stores were a century old. Interstellar synth-food didn’t really expire, but it couldn’t compare to fresh stuff for flavor.

But Li Ao had never been picky. Anything edible satisfied him back then, and after choking down compressed biscuits for so long now, the tomato soup blew his little cat mind. He kept kneading his paws in delight.

“So yummy~ Xun, do you like it?” The little cat ate while rumbling with satisfaction.

This was Xun’s first time hearing that sound. It stared intently at the little cat, confirming that he was purring from happiness.

It started imitating. The black little dumpling rumbled, “Li Ao.”

“You like it too?” The little cat happily nuzzled against it. “Li Ao’s great at growing veggies. Once we find more seeds, Li Ao will plant tomatoes to feed the little dog.”

Xun’s scarlet pupils slowly widened. It fiercely rubbed the cat down to the ground. “Like.”

Xun was Li Ao’s little dog. Li Ao was Xun’s little cat.

—

Until they confirmed whether more Xenoid Variants would spawn and mapped their activity range, Alpha-13 had no plans to let the short-legged cat head out scavenging again.

【Where’s the cat? No cat sighting—I’m dying here.】

【Match paused, and now no cat either (lonely)(empty)】

The monitors cut out during red time blackouts. Come daytime power-up, they resumed—dragging their audience along to stare longingly at the base from afar.

【Miss kitten teacher wuwuwu—my kid just learned addition/subtraction under five. Desperately need kitten teacher for more!!】

【Kitten teacher pls!】

Kitten Teacher couldn’t teach—the kitten himself was struggling plenty.

Alpha-13 patted the blackboard. “No spacing out. Repeat after me: a o e i u ü…” The machine’s builders were Delphi folk, and a huge chunk of Delphi bloodlines traced back East. Delphi probably had the most speakers of Ancient Chinese among all known planets.

The little cat was like a hot dog sliced open on a sizzling pan, slouched wilted in his chair as he parroted along.

He clearly hated studying. The little monster, though, listened intently. Seeing the cat’s ears droop, the robot checked the time and paused the lesson. “Break time. Let’s chat about your country.”

That perked Li Ao right up. No schooling, but super patriotic. He puffed out his fluffy little chest proudly. “My homeland’s called Silver Apricot! Stars and red flag…” Then he blanked. You couldn’t expect a kid who’d never seen a kindergarten to know much. “Then, uh, then—me and Grandma live at Kitten Street No. XXX…”

The robot already had all that; its database had just updated. Cross-referencing the info, though—no matching planet or nation.

Seeing the eager hope in the little cat’s eyes, it replied, “The universe has over a million trillion planets. Finding Earth will take a long time.”

Li Ao stumbled counting past twenty—trillions were beyond him. The little cat’s eyes went blank. “How long?”

Machines didn’t lie, but it couldn’t bear to disappoint him. “Maybe… until you’re grown up.”

Li Ao got that. Grandma had said lots of stuff waited till you grew up. “Till eighteen!”

“Yes.”

The little cat helpfully had exactly eighteen claw-toes. He splayed them all. “Li Ao’s six now. Minus one, minus two… minus six—that’s twelve years?”

Kids didn’t really grasp years anyway, and twelve wasn’t a scary number. He let out a relieved breath. “Okay then. Grandma won’t have to wait too long for me.”

“And—” Alpha-13 wasn’t really fibbing to the little cat. “If you study hard and get strong, it’ll speed things up.”

The cat chest deflated a tad, but puffed right back up. “You’re right. I’ll learn.”

Grandma was definitely waiting for Li Ao to come home. Couldn’t keep her waiting forever.

He was raring to go, but Alpha-13 stopped teaching.

Li Ao looked puzzled. The robot stood there with its flat face for ages before asking, “Can you read?”

You bet! He even knew one-two-three—that counted! The little cat wasn’t average; he brimmed with confidence. “I know tons.”

He waited for the follow-up, but Alpha-13 hemmed and hawed awkwardly, unable to spit it out. Until the little monster nudged the little cat. “Li Ao.”

“Xun, you tired? I’ll take you for a walk then.” Dogs needed walks—Li Ao remembered.

“Wait.” The robot snagged his tail and forced the words out. “Could you… give me a name?”

The little monster had one. Heck, even the Xenoids were Mantis Monster and Little Flower Beauty for Strangling Vine. Why not it?

“Huh?” Li Ao didn’t get it. “Don’t you have a name already?”

“That’s just a production serial—not a real name.” The robot suddenly realized. “So that’s why… you never named me. You thought I already had one?”

“Well yeah? Isn’t a production number a name? Lemme think…” Li Ao yanked his tail free and circled the robot a few times.

Alpha-13 was all fidgety from the short-legged cat’s antics. Its mechanical arms clenched and unclenched—nervous, expectant, awaiting its name.

The little cat eyed the robot’s white shell. He shot to his feet, smacked his left paw into his right palm, and declared confidently, “Machine Bai Bai!”

“…” The robot was genuinely furious, itching to pin the cat’s butt and whack it. “No way—that’s awful. Think of another!”

“Where does it sound bad?” The little cat was dissatisfied. “Then, White Machine Machine?” He howled out several names for the robot one after another, but none satisfied him. Finally, the little cat got stubborn too. “Then you tell me, what do you want to be called?”

If the robot could name itself, would it ask a little illiterate like him?

Fierce Cat pouted, feeling like the Machine was really hard to please. But then he thought about it—his own name had taken his grandma a long time to settle on too.

“Li Ao. Not some tag-along or unwanted kid—Li Ao is our little cat’s big name, okay.”

Li Ao pulled over his tail to wipe his eyes, sniffled, and said, “Names are really important. Then I’ll read more books, learn more characters, and pick a good one for you later.”

Alpha-13 let out a reserved hum. “Then let’s continue the lesson.”

It turned to prepare materials, but Li Ao rubbed against the black-furred chestnut ball. “Xun, do you like your name?”

He was a bit worried that the name he’d given the little dog was too casual.

“I like it.” Short tendril-claws hugged short cat arms. “Xun likes it.”

It had long since learned from documentaries that it was a kind of purple herb, with the same scent as the little cat.

Lavender’s flower language was waiting for hope, and it had indeed met light amid the darkness.

It liked its name, just like it liked the little cat.

—