Catalyst

Catalyst Cat’s Crusade Book 1 Nik Morton Catalyst Kindle Edition Copyright © 2023 (As Revised) Nik Morton Rough Edges Press An Imprint of Wolfpack Publishing 9850 S. Maryland Parkway, Suite A-5 #323 Las Vegas, Nevada 89183 roughedgespress.com This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, other than brief quotes for reviews. eBook ISBN 978-1-68549-236-6 Paperback ISBN 978-1-68549-237-3 Contents Join the Rough Edges Press Mailing List Terms 1. Cat Among the Pigeons 2. Cat and Mouse 3. Bradbury & Hood 4. Cat’s Tail 5. Cat’s Fish 6. Catch Up 7. Worrying a Bone 8. “Cat got your tongue?” 9. Cat On a Tin Roof 10. “Let slip the dogs…” 11. Catalyst 12. Catananche 13. “Fit for what?” 14. Dante 15. Extinguished 16. Becoming a Habit 17. Gut Feeling 18. Bear This Worthily Author’s Note A Look At Book Two: Join the Rough Edges Press Mailing List About the Author Join the Rough Edges Press Mailing List It’s no secret that you love books as much as we do. If you join now, you’ll stay up to date on our newest releases, news and sales. To Jennifer, with love, as always, for always. And to Hannah, Harry, Darius and Suri. cat•a•lyst (ˈkæt-l-ɪst) n. 1. a substance that causes or speeds a chemical reaction without itself being affected 2. a person or thing that precipitates an event or change * * * Ananke The name of a primordial deity in Greek mythology, the personification of necessity and fate. She was present when the universe began, with her consort, Chronos (time). She was said to rule over fate. Being the mother of the Fates, only she could control their decisions. Catalyst Chapter 1 Cat Among the Pigeons June 2014—London Rock climbing was much easier than this, Cat Vibrissae thought. She did free climbing for a hobby—though only in daylight—and enjoyed it. But climbing the outside of a modern building at night was something else entirely. She was used to the adrenaline rush of climbing with bare hands and feet on cliffs above rugged rocks and aggressive waves. But this was so very different. Tonight, her physiological responses seemed more pronounced: she was sure that she could sense her increased heart rate and her gut constricting. And her mouth was exceedingly dry. Still, if she was going to fulfill her vow to her late father, she had no choice. This was the only way to penetrate the seventeenth-floor office of Rick Barnes. Finding handholds on the face of a modern building was not easy at the best of times but, at night, it was worse and had to be done by feel alone. Street lighting and advertising signs didn’t help this high up—but at least the darkness ensured she wouldn’t be visible. Here, she would find no holes made by burrowing animals or nesting birds. Simply rigid straight edges of concrete and marble and no potentially unsafe cladding, fortunately. Clean lean lines as envisioned by the architects. God, how she would dearly love to hammer pitons into the stone facade and secure a few karabiners and snap-rings and rope, but that would make an unacceptable amount of noise and, besides, it would take far too long. But the ropes would have eased the strain on her fingers, wrists, arms, and legs. Stop moaning. Just get on with it. If she hadn’t also done plenty of free climbing, she’d never have contemplated this. Her coach had used the phrase, “Make the geckos jealous.” Unfortunately, she didn’t have suction-pad feet. At least her soft Five Ten Anasazi climbing shoes acted like “magic fingers” and enabled her feet to cling to the narrowest of ledges and feel the features she stepped on. When she started this climb, the air had been quite calm, not too balmy, an ideal June evening, with hardly a breeze disturbing her long auburn ponytail. Refreshing, even. But now, fifteen stories up, the swirling air currents tugged at her slim-line backpack and black cat-suit and threatened to blow her off the side of the building. Specks of dust and leaves flicked against her cheeks; she was really glad she wore wrap-around goggles. Toe tips only. Using her toes and not her instep allowed her hips a broader moving range to allocate her gravity center as needed. The technique required her to move her hips over her feet. “Follow gravity”, her coach had said. “The hip is the center of gravity.” Simple, really. Placing her hip over one foot relieved both her other foot and her hands for the next move. And so on. Keep calm. She passed behind the huge metal sign for ANANKE CORPORATION which, thankfully, wasn’t illuminated at this time of night. Here, she decided to rest for a few minutes and looped a leg over a stanchion and suddenly she gave a start as two disturbed pigeons flapped their wings and flew out and away, leaving behind a stomach-churning stink of bird droppings. At least the bird-flu scare had long since petered out; and since pigs can’t fly, there was no risk of swine flu either. Ha, ha… The inane joke didn’t calm her, though. After that shock, her heart was fluttering more than ever. Two days ago, it had been pounding for a different reason. * * * Cat’s heart quickened as Rick Barnes let her into his Richmond apartment and shut the door behind them. She brushed her slightly clammy hands down her maroon pleated skirt. This was the culmination of two weeks’ dating, waiting for the right time to accept his invitation to stay overnight. His gray-blue eyes glinted in the light from the chandelier. He seemed