Keeper of Secrets
The wind rustled the wires and whiskers of the mechanical cat on the hill. Try as Mechacatbot could, there were no subroutines to simulate human mourning in his database. Seems the Crey programmers never saw need for it. But inside, the feline part felt the departure.
He smelled the change in everyone; some were better, some were not. Only time would tell who was lost to the sadness, and who would return from it.
Ronin had always been kind to him. She had often defended him from Silver Skull during that early time. Not that he needed it, but maybe it helped soothe the transition in Skull from cat hater to cat patter. Ronin did give a sweet scratch behind the ear. That middle finger kind. It would be a missed treat.
He had heard the announcement about the day and time back at headquarters. Everyone in the Super Group would be at Ronin's funeral tomorrow, but those events were a human thing. They saw things differently than cats. He shuddered as he thought how in mourning they acted much like dogs, clumping together, socializing, remembering, and, eventually, forgetting so they could go on.
His feline part just couldn't see it that way. Cats remembered. They always remembered. Every special person, down through history, was part of their collective feline beings. Kings, queens, tyrants, and paupers, each one distinct and at the same time the tiniest of part of the whole memory. There was beauty in each one's special moment and a resonance in each similarity. Ronin had her own place in his and now all their memories. And every cat the world over, mourned Ronins loss in their own tiny way.
The moon was now high over the cemetery. He sniffed and knew the last human had left for the evening. He moved down through the cool mist, into to what would be Ronin's last resting place, her open grave.
He looked down into it. It smelled of good untainted earth. He would honor Ronin the last time as he would a fellow cat who had moved to the other layer, the cat word for death. This act would be the best he could do. The humans wouldn't understand it, but maybe some of the felinoid heroes he knew like Thunda Kat and Chibi would remember. They were still enough cat to know the secrets of cats.
He hopped down into the grave and moved to the end where the headstone would lie. The little catbot curled into a tight ball and went to sleep. He would warm her last bed until the sun came up and then let its rays warm the cold ground. His warmth though would always remain there, even in the smallest amount, warming the cold earth where she would lie.
This was the way of cats. Tonight, under the moon and tranquil sky, Mechacatbot dreamed only of her, and they said goodbye. He rubbed against Ronin, claiming her as friend. And she scratched his head, behind the ear, the middle finger way. Her way.
