Story by Charles Hawkmoon. Translation VictorX.

This short story is part of the Science Fiction Storm series. All stories in this series are inspired by randomized prompts, ensuring that each tale is unpredictable and utterly unique. Here are the random seeds for this story:

Cotton – beard – six – happier – sick – mustache.

Dr. Nilda remembered the first time she had set foot on Island Six. She had come as a tourist from Island Nine, her birthplace. Her 12th birthday present was to spend a few hours with Cotton.

She recalled what her father had said when they docked at the Island. He crouched beside her. She touched his face, feeling the rough stubble of his unshaven beard and mustache.

“Are you happy, Nildie?”

“I am happy, Daddy! But I’ll be even happier when I meet Cotton.”

Her home was a large station orbiting Saturn. It was more complete in almost every way. A true arcology, with a diameter of forty kilometers, housing cities and parks, simulating most of the habitats from old Earth. There, she lived in an open environment home, a type of dwelling that would inspire envy in most of the inhabitants of smaller stations.

Island Six was an older, mid-sized space station with artificial gravity, orbiting Jupiter. The entire complex had ten concentric doughnut-shaped floors, with gravity ranging from 1g to 0.2g. The lower floors housed sports facilities and residential areas. The middle and upper levels were home to laboratories and recreational spaces, such as the collective habitats for cats and dogs. It wasn’t possible to have a personal pet on Island Six unless you were just visiting.

Many people enjoyed visiting the areas with cats and dogs, and some even bought tickets to take the friendlier dogs for walks in the parks on the lower decks. As for the cats, there were observation-only spaces and interaction areas, though interaction was restricted to adults. Many toys available for fans of this kind of entertainment made visits quite fun, especially watching the acrobatic feats the felines could perform in a low-gravity environment.
However, exceptions were made in the case of the Island’s biggest celebrity, and for significant financial contributions.

Cotton was a white, long-haired cat with heterochromia: one blue eye and one yellow. He was a celebrity cat, over thirty years old. His digital replica had starred in over a hundred holodramas, which attracted tourists to the station for a chance to pet him in person. The upper decks were underwater environments where edible algae and Mammoth Tuna were cultivated—a transgenic species created to live in low-gravity environments and the Island’s main source of animal protein.

Visitors who paid extra had the privilege of feeding the animal chunks of raw fish, which he greatly enjoyed.

Dr. Nilda held Cotton in her arms and pressed him tenderly against her face. A stubborn tear wanted to escape her large brown eyes. She remembered with perfect clarity her first encounter with the little creature. She had received a rectangular transparent container with raw tuna cut into cubes. Cotton came over excitedly, rubbing himself against her legs. The white of his fur contrasted with the chocolate tone of the girl’s skin. Nildie was quite comfortable, wearing shorts, a tank top, and flip-flops, feeling the soft fur of the cat against her bare skin. He meowed almost like a siren, and Nildie took a fresh piece of meat from the container, feeling the strange cold and moist texture between her fingers. She pursed her lips a bit, noticing the dark veins running through the deep red flesh. She was a vegetarian but understood well that felines were carnivores. So, she crouched down to feed the kitty.

“Here you go, Cotton! Here you go!”

The cat devoured the chunk and meowed again.

Touching her bracelet, she activated the FCS, the Feline Communication Synthesizer.

“More tuna! More tuna!” Cotton demanded.

“Here you go, little one. More tuna!”

That was his most famous line. People experienced an indescribable joy facing that little furball with a slightly cross-eyed gaze and hearing the FCS say, “More tuna.” Nildie felt great pleasure feeding the cat.

That encounter changed her life. It drove her to focus on her studies and become a veterinarian. Years later, she returned to Island Six and accepted a job with the biomaintenance team. Her father had wanted her to be a businesswoman and follow in his footsteps at his space mining company, but she left that to her younger brother. Her calling had always been with animals.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to live in that place? It’s so depressing…”

“Don’t worry, Daddy. I’ll visit, I promise.”

“Very well, my daughter,” her father said, wiping away a tear. “Be happy.”

“I am happy, Daddy. And I’ll be even happier working with what I love.”

“I’m sure you will.”

Dr. Nilda carried Cotton to the sensor table. She placed him there and offered some tuna to make him more comfortable. She activated the sensors and watched the holographic mesh display the 3D model of the feline, along with various vital sign data. She sighed and pressed her lips together. These were sad times on Island Six. Cotton was sick, and not even the most recent cybernetic implant seemed able to save him this time.

“You… my favorite human.”

“You’re my favorite kitty, Cotton. I love you,” Dr. Nilda said, stroking the cat’s soft ears.

“More tuna!”

“Yes, kitty. More tuna.”

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