//------------------------------// // 14. Changeling of the Times // Story: Catherine the Great // by Scarheart //------------------------------// Edited by DJ_Neon_Lights, Kudzuhaiku, and TuxOKC. The morning was spent by Frank on the floor in the kitchen, running his hand over the surface of the said floor. Yesterday there had been a hole there caused by an unwanted guest. What he felt with the tips of his fingers did not correlate with the process in which the hole had been patched. No matter where he felt where he thought the edge of the hole had been, Frank could feel nothing. It was as if the hole had never been. There was a subtle difference in the feel of the floor. Where Cabbage had done his work was a sensation of something between rubber and plastic to the touch.         Catherine sat on her heels next to her father, also touching the floor where Cabbage had dragged his derriere. The memory still had her giggling in fits, which Daddy did nothing to dissuade. If anything, Frank would start chuckling like a little boy.         Both shared a sense of wonder, but for different reasons. Catherine thought it was all wonderful magic. Of course she would. Her opinion of Cabbage and the changelings had soared when she saw the hole gone and the living room good as new. All the girl did was point out how wonderful and magical her changelings were. Her toothy grin went from ear to ear. Frank saw a new way of application for his line of work and it involved Cabbage. The man had a sudden spark of inspiration in his eye as he stood and cast his eye towards an exhausted changeling napping on the couch. What he had seen last night was nothing short of amazing, if hilariously disgusting. At least, his wife saw it as disgusting. Frank saw hours of work saved, money saved on materials, and possibilities began to dance through his imagination. Scratching his chin and staring at the spot on the floor, Frank rose to his feet. Catherine peered up at him. She was still sitting on her heels, her arms wrapped around her legs. Smiling down at his daughter, he beckoned her to stand. Catherine stood up quickly. “What?” she asked curiously. “What did you think of the floor, sweetie?” She blinked, looked at the floor, then back at him. “Cabbage did really good!” Catherine proclaimed with a huge, proud smile. Frank once more looked at the spot on the floor. “Yes. Yes he did, didn’t he? Why don’t you go see what your mother is doing?” “She’s sitting in the living room, looking at the changelings,” she informed him as seriously as a six-year-old could manage to be serious. Catherine pouted, “Mommy doesn’t like them.” “It’s not that she doesn’t like them,” Frank said as he ruffled her hair, “it’s more that she’s afraid of them. They’re not from our world. They are strange to her. They are strange to me. They are strange to everyone. Changelings are aliens to our world.” “Yeah,” Catherine sighed as she made a slight frown. Frank leaned over, placing his hands on his knees for support. “What do you think of the changelings?” The grin returned with a vengeance. “They’re funny! They make a lot of noise! I like it when they sing. They have good voices. Please, please, please don’t make them go away! They don’t have anywhere else to go and people will be mean to them. I just know it!” Her smile had faded to something filled with fear. Her father sighed and he hugged his daughter with one arm. Frank squeezed for good measure. “And you’ve tried to tell me and your mom the whole time, haven’t you?” Small arms encircled his neck as the hug was returned. Catherine nodded into his neck. The hug broke and Frank straightened himself. “Go to your mother. See how she’s doing. I’m going to… Well, I’ve got to think on some things. Your friend Cabbage did something pretty special.” He booped his daughter on the nose, causing a fit of giggles to erupt from the little girl. “Okay, Daddy.” Catherine skipped off to find Beatrice. The girl’s mood had been swinging quite a bit, given the events happening since yesterday. Frank sighed and scratched the back of his head as he watched his daughter disappear around the corner. He heard her cry out, ‘Mommy!’ and her voice was followed by an ‘oof!’ from Beatrice. Frank shook his head and chuckled. He again thought about Cabbage and changelings in general. There were a lot of questions, serious questions in need of answers. These were the questions that had circled his mind, trying to find their own voices since he recovered from his first definitely not fainting spell. His first and foremost question had two parts: what would the country do in reaction to the existence of changelings and how would it impact his family? How would the neighborhood react? What about his own family? What about the tabloids? Oh, Lord, the tabloids! No matter what he thought, Frank could not see anything good coming of it. He suspected the love of his life was thinking the same thoughts. Beatrice was always thinking a step or two ahead of him. She was the one who took care of the bills. Frank was just happy going from one contract to the next and spending time with his family. He made better money than his wife, but she was better at spending it. Boy, was she better at spending it! Frank pondered the ponderable, even considering some things beyond pondering. It blanked his mind and he heaved a worried sigh. Scratching his day-old stubble, he crossed his free arm over his chest and found his eyes drawn to movement at the sliding glass door in the dining room. He had to lean over a tad to see past the breakfast bar, but sure enough, there was a changeling waving at him. Which one was it? They all looked the same to him. But, there one was, sitting on his back porch, peering into the house and waving at Frank. It was a frantic wave, complete with the expression of utter panic. As the man stood there, staring in blank disbelief at the fact there was a changeling on his back porch, said changeling began tapping on the glass. Frank probably should have left the changeling sitting there. He imagined going up to the door and closing the blinds. Heck, it worked for Bugs Bunny. Problems went away when you hid them. It worked, didn't it? It had to! Frank did not close the blinds. As much as he wanted to, as much as he—on one hand —wanted the changelings to go away, another part of his brain—the responsible part of it— poked and prodded the human into opening the door. There was a question in need of answering. Cursing at his own feeble inability to not ignore what appeared to be some sort of crisis, Frank watched as his own body betrayed him. He watched his hand go to the handle of the door, grasp it, then slide it open. The changeling stopped tapping on the glass and waited on anxious hooves, shifting from one to the other. It dawned on Frank as the air from outside rushed in and hit him in the face that the changeling was Speaker. “Curse you brain,” he whispered to himself. “Curse you!” The changeling swallowed hard, looking up at the towering human. Frank, to it, appeared as a looming giant peering down upon a puny mortal daring to enter his domain. “I am sorry for violating your order from yesterday,” the changeling said nervously, “but something has happened.” It was indeed Speaker. Frank wanted to close the door in Speaker’s face. The changelings were giving him ulcers. He was probably going to have a heart attack, keel over, and die. The man’s cholesterol level was going to come back and haunt him. The years of eating fatty foods and fried things had culminated to this moment, and Frank was going to die from the sheer stupidity of the past twenty-four hours. Now, if only what he had just thought actually made sense. “What?” he demanded to Speaker, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling his shoulders. Frank glowered, his stubbly chin on his chest as he spread his feet aggressively. Speaker, while not exactly bright, was not exactly stupid, either. “There is a problem,” he squeaked, trying to fight the terror in his voice. “There is a big problem. A dilemma. Two of my sisters have done something rash. Possibly stupid... Suicidal?” The poor changeling was shivering in his chitin. “Please let me in. I can’t be exposed out here. There is this really old hooman lady creeping us out. She’s been in her backyard with binoculars. I get the feeling she can see through our magic. It is terrifying! It makes no sense and is inconceivable, but my brothers and sisters are nervous!” “Get in,” growled Frank, stepping aside. “Quickly!” Speaker needed no prompting. The changeling darted in, his ears swiveling everywhere as his nostrils flared and sniffed at the air. His wings buzzed, reflecting his agitated state. The human poked his head outside and checked for any prying eyes. Frank then pulled back and closed the door behind him, his mask of worry beginning to morph into something else: Fear. “What is this problem?” Frank asked, making the changeling jump with a yelp. The man softened his gaze just a little. “Geez, what is with you? How bad is this problem?” “Alpha and Beta. They have done something very stupid.” Speaker tapped at the floor with both hooves. He tried to sit down on his haunches, but he was too worked up to remain seated. Up and down. Up and down. The third time Speaker finally made the conscientious decision to force himself to sit down. His body trembled as though he was sitting in a bathtub full of ice. “Are they changelings?” Frank asked. “Yes. My sisters. They have done something stupid. I need your help. Please!” Beatrice’s voice rose from the living room. “Who is it, Frank?” “It’s Speaker,” he replied, raising his voice to match her volume. To the changeling in question, he said, “Come on. Let’s go into the living room.” Without waiting for a reply, he began to move. Speaker fell in step behind him. His wings continued to buzz in little spurts. “Speaker!” Catherine crowed when she saw her friend. She slid down from her mother’s lap and ran to the changeling. “You’re okay!” The Mother of All Hugs came in the form of a glomp as the little girl nearly speared Speaker. “I missed you!” “My Queen!” Speaker’s gloominess evaporated in the wake being tackle-hugged. He drank in her love and let out a happy sigh. ‘Twas good to be loved! “Why are you here?” Beatrice asked in a flat, unwelcoming tone. Catherine frowned and looked up from her hug. It became a protective hold over the changeling. She was becoming very protective as of late. Why was she so attached to the little buggers? Beatrice tried not to smirk at her own words. Angela looked up from where she had been watching over her brother. She was in quiet repose on the couch, next to a huddled form swathed in blankets. Cabbage could be heard sawing logs from within the blanket. His snores weren’t too annoying. They might have even been considered adorable. A snot bubble grew and shrank with each exhale and inhale. Nobody dared touch it. “Hello, brother,” she said to Speaker in a hushed voice. “Why haven’t you been answering?” demanded Speaker, indifferent to his slumbering brother. “I’ve called you and called you. The others have tried reaching you! Why haven’t you answered?” He bared his fangs and snapped them. “A crisis has fallen upon us! Cats and dogs are living together! Don’t you even check your messages?” Angela replied in a bored tone, “No. I do not. I’ve been supervising Cabbage. He fixed the hole in the kitchen.” “Dear sister, dear sister,” Cabbage’s muzzle mumbled in dreamy slumber. The snot bubble popped as he spoke. His muzzle was the only thing poking from beneath the blankets. The whole room paused and stared until the snoring resumed. In a much quieter tone of voice, Speaker hissed at Angela, “Why didn’t you respond? Alpha and Beta did something stupid!” “They declared an undying love for Coke II™?” Angela ventured in mock horror. “Well, nothing that serious,” Speaker admitted with the sureness of a pimpled nerd asking out the prom queen while thinking his zits were going to explode in her face at any given moment. “They took a hooman.” Frank’s eyes bulged. “‘Took’? What do you mean by ‘took’?” “There’s more,” Speaker went on, his voice taking on a sullen tone. Cabbage bolted upright from where he lay. “I reign supreme!” he blurted with a fang-filled grin. He then slid back under the mass of blankets until only one ear could be seen. It flicked twice, then was still as Cabbage began to snore again. The world then resumed its usual shenanigans. “What do you mean?” Frank demanded as he glowered at a cowering Speaker. He had his Daddy Voice in full force. “A miscommunication happened. Old habits are hard to kick,” the changeling babbled at the floor. “Standing procedure is to take and examine. Consideration was not given in regards to consequences in a strange land with strange creatures.” Beatrice was shaking her head. “What is wrong with you guys?” Speaker’s lower lip quivered. He looked pitiful. “It’s what we know. It’s what we were taught. We don’t associate with other species unless we are imitating them. Even then, we operate under rules Mother ingrained into us since we were nymphs. We are taught to learn, imitate, observe, absorb, and capture if necessary. It depends on the mission and its requirements. Most of our work is passive in nature, but when we need information and are desperate for it or a source of really strong emotion, we will do a snatch and grab. Mother taught us to take the initiative when an opportunity presents itself. Alpha and Beta still cling to the old ways. They must be corrected. Things must be put to rights before it all goes bad.” Frank and Beatrice both groaned and clapped a hand over their faces at the same time. “My changelings did something bad?” Catherine asked with an angry pout. She released Speaker and put her fists on her hips, glaring at him. He flinched under her queenly (but adorable) glare. “They must be punished! My changelings do not do bad things! Doing bad things is wrong! I’m a good queen! My changelings must also be good, Speaker! I’m mad at you!” The diabetes inducement was strong in this one. “I’m so glad I wasn’t chosen to be Speaker,” Angela commented as she settled comfortably into her seat. “So, so glad.” Her grin showed no mercy for her brother. Speaker snapped his head up and towards her. “It’s not funny!” She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Tragic.” She noted to outraged expressions on the two humans. “On a snatch and grab, absolutely no harm is done to the abducted. A damaged capture is considered a failure. At some point, they are returned from where they were taken once curiosities are satisfied.” “Alien probes?” Frank blurted without thinking. “Franklin Benjamin Thomas!” Beatrice slapped him in the shoulder. Frank would not be denied his alien conspiracy theory. “Honey, they’re aliens from another world. They kidnap people. He just admitted that’s what they do!” A finger was wagged in accusation at Speaker. “Trying to move away from it, actually,” sighed Speaker. It was turning into a bad weekend. A part of him wanted his mommy. Then he remembered what kind of mommy she was to begin with. The portal was closed. At least, there wasn’t anything under Catherine’s bed save for a roving band of dust bunnies now. “We just want to do the right thing. We just don’t know what the right thing is. We’re so used to having Mother make all the big decisions for us. We’re lost without someling telling us what to do. We’re drones. We live to follow orders.” Frank sighed and exchanged glances with his wife. She shrugged at him. “All right, Speaker,” he sighed in resignation, “where is he now?” Eager to please and desperate to set things right, Speaker cried out, “I’ll show you! It’s in our hive!” Beatrice and Frank said together, “You have a hive?” It was a mix of horror and intrigue. “I want to see the hive!” Catherine piped excitedly. “No!” Her parents proclaimed. “That’s not fair!”