Recently, astronomers had noticed unusual activity around the moon. Articles accusing the government of suppressing the evidence of UFO sightings had appeared in various media. Solar flares, freak winds, a typhoon in Asia, interruptions in satellite communications were all being blamed on visitors from outer space.

Bouncing up a narrow mountain road in an L-ATV, two senior Air Force officers stared out opposite windows lost in thought. Their driver did his best to keep the heavy all-terrain vehicle from pitching over the hillside on the deeply rutted lane, but it was a rough ride.

In the valley far below them, Homey Airport was a hive of angry bees. Aircraft navigation lights circled the mountains of Area 51, echoing sonic booms as they gunned for a phantom intruder as elusive as the desert wind.

General Stone tried in vain to reassure his friend. “Don’t worry, Buck. I’ll handle the investigation personally.”

General Thorn ran nervous fingers through his thinning hair. “If those reporters find out we failed to stop an intrusion into our own air space —”

“That outran our F-35s getting away,” Stone reminded him.

Thorn winced. “The media will be on us like mosquitoes at a nudist convention.” The vehicle lurched, slamming his head into the side window.

“Do they need to keep this stuff so far away?” Stone griped. “What on Earth do you have up on this mountain that’s so top-secret?”

“Not from Earth, Rusty. Captured UFOs, remains of extraterrestrial beings. Crates our people are forbidden to open, or afraid to. The CIA collects this stuff from all over the world.”

“You know I don’t believe in that UFO nonsense —.”

He was cut off by a thundering boom echoing across the surrounding hills. Moments later a chunk of reinforced concrete smashed down on the hood of the L-ATV with a ringing crash. Skidding to a stop, the driver and the two generals stared up the road in stunned silence.

Proceeding cautiously through the canyon to the row of board shacks, their vehicle stopped in front of two large steel doors lying across the road. The three men stepped out, looking around nervously.

“Who’s there? Advance and be recognized,” demanded a voice from the shadowy hillside that sloped up from the dirt road.

“This is General Thorn! Identify yourself airman. Why aren’t you at your post?”

Upon recognizing the post commander, a young woman slid down the rocks to the officers and saluted, “Airman First Class, Morrison, sir. We took cover when the roof exploded. It’s gone, sir. Flew away. We have wounded.”

“Who flew away? What the devil’s going on here?” Stone demanded.

“See for yourself, sir.” Morrison led the way to the side entrance where a heavy steel door canted on one hinge.

An Air Force F-35 Lightning split the air 500 feet above the mountain. For a moment everyone stood frozen, unable to speak above the noise.

Morrison lit the way with her flashlight.

“The lights aren’t working inside,” she explained.

Three Security Forces specialists accompanied them into the building with guns drawn while the others patrolled outside or tended to the injured. The room was a mess with overturned shelves, smashed jars, boxes tumbled around the floor.

Stone shivered. “Thundering tomcats! It’s freezing in here.”

Thorn looked around the room in amazement at a light coating of white frost that covered everything.

“And look at these, sir,” Morrison shined her light around the room.

The floor was illuminated by a circle of moonlight from a large round hole in the ceiling with a perfectly smooth edge. Embossed in the dust, going this way and that, ran the many footprints of a cat.

Outside the building, the Security Forces discovered a turquoise-blue animal lying in the road near the bunker doors. The others were reluctant to approach it, until Sergent Turner told them it was just a cat with unusually beautiful fur. Knowing the general was a cat person, Turner called the animal to Thorn’s attention, who requested the hazmat team convey the blue cat down to the infirmary after they had examined it.

Major Mau’s first view of real humans shocked him to his down hairs. He saw them as enormous loud creatures who smelled bad and had horrible breath. No sooner had he groomed away the scent of their huge damp hands, when more of them came into his private room, obsessed with touching him all over, while they cooed like infants.

Diagnosed with a mild concussion, Mau glared at his doctor in the infirmary who giggled with two nurses over insipid jokes about CAT scans and hairballs.

Mau had a pounding headache, he couldn’t remember how he came to be in this strange place or where he’d parked his ship, but much worse, he’d lost his valuable collar again, which meant he had no way of calling for help.

General Thorn saw team mascot potential in a cat with velvety blue fur, so Mau was released to the care of Thorn’s secretary, sergeant Jess Ardly.

As Jess carried the cat carrier up to Thorn’s office, she had an uneasy feeling that this was no ordinary domestic feline.

Lieutenant Ardly left Mau alone in the office while she worked in the reception room outside. Feeling a sudden urge to refresh himself, Mau looked around for a place to scrape his feet. The most appealing spot was the general’s prize Crimson Star Adenium, ablaze with red blossoms. Mau chewed on the blooms thoughtfully, savoring their unusual flavor.

A horrible thought crossed his mind that the blossoms might poison him, since his native world contained few wild plants, of which he knew little. He turned his attention to the sandy soil, delightfully scraping it onto the carpet. Next, Mau tried running a few laps around the office, but that only made his headache worse, so he pushed a few things off Thorn’s credenza to see if something would break. Kicking a framed photograph of the General’s wife and daughter across the room, the delightful crash of breaking glass improved his mood.

By the time Thorn returned to his office, Jess had already straightened up the room. Mau suspiciously sniffed the bed she’d made for him opposite Thorn’s desk. Circling it a few times, he gingerly settling down. To Mau’s disgust, he caught himself purring as he absently kneaded his paws in the soft blanket while pondering how to contact a rescue team.

Thorn looked up from the laptop on his desk and smiled, grateful to see the cat settling in. Thorn read aloud from a website, “brave, heroic, plucky…plucky?” What the heck was that? Sounded like something you’d do to a violin, or a chicken.

The sound of keyboard tapping got the cat’s attention.

“Of course!” Mau realized, “I can start the invasion of Earth from the human’s computer right here in this room.” Mau jumped onto Thorn’s desk lashing his tail.

As Mau considered how to get rid of General Thorn, he read names on the screen. “What’s this? Ace, Alex, Angel Andy, Angus?”

Thorn smiled at the cat, “Would you like it if we called you Ace?”

Mau was horrified. “Oh no! He thinks I’m a pet!” Mau hissed, “I’ll give him pet. Come the invasion, we’ll have a special cage for this one.”

The General continued, “Bing, Binx, Bling, Bo, Blane…”

Mau carved a scratch in Thorn’s desk. These aren’t names, they’re springs bouncing off the wall.

Retracting his claws, Mau placed his paw on Thorn’s hand. Thinking the cat wanted attention, Thorn rubbed his ear. But Mau shook him off and pressed three keys with his paw:

m a u

To prove to himself this was an accident, Thorn typed:

m e o w

The cat snapped at Thorn’s finger and pawed:

m a u

General Thorn wondered out loud, “What’s Mau?”

Mau impatiently pawed the keyboard:

m y n a m e i s m a u

Thorn read, “Myna-Mei-Smau?” He scratched his head. “What’s that?”

Swallowing frustrated rage, Mau pawed:

m a j o r m a u t o y o u

Thorn repeated the words, “Major Mau? Major Mau? What branch of the service recruits cats?” Worried the cat might be attached to the CIA, Thorn stepped out of his office for some air.

Mau eagerly pressed command-tab on the laptop with both paws until a web browser appeared.

An alert Alna engineer, familiar with the primitive Earth Internet protocols, had created a terrestrial Internet address linking the invaders to invasion fleet headquarters over the web.

Mau was so excited he started to purr again.

The header of the Alna web page showed a desolate landscape of frosty domed cities under a cold sun. Mau sighed, feeling homesick for the bleak wastes of his native world. He studied the links in the header:

Home — About — Gallery — Sales — Careers — Contact

Mau grinned, thinking about the sort of career an Earth person might find for himself as a zoological exhibit on Alna, or a slave on Karig’s moon, if he were foolish enough to apply for a job.

Mau selected Contact and entered a private code. The redirect sent him to Alna Invasion Forces Command and Control Headquarters where his GPS location was immediately recognized.

He selected Rescue Me from a drop-down menu and relaxed, knowing help was on the way.