Japan Conquers the Galaxy by Kirsten Alene

Author:Kirsten Alene [Alene, Kirsten]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Eraserhead Press
Published: 2013-10-02T00:00:00+00:00

***

Instead of acknowledging his mistake and embarking on a search for the missing American businessman, Kazuya opted to return to the town car and wait there for Alexander, who was sure to realize the error promptly and find an exit.

When, after ten minutes, Alexander did not return to the town car, Kazuya became restless and ordered the driver to loop around the block.

***

After a blissful morning of solitude and contemplation, Hirotashi visited the kitten lab, tested the newest kitten batch, and berated a lab assistant for serving an unmeasured mixture of dry and wet cat food. “Variables are in each and every minute action, Mr. Hin!” he yelled, gesturing to the newest kitten group. “We cannot know when a solution will arise and what will you do if you have not recorded the exact and precise process of that solution when it does! We are not gods, Mr. Hin! Any lapse of judgment or missing record could mean sacrificing the one opportunity we may ever be presented!”

When Mr. Hin had been reduced to a convulsing heap, weeping silently in a corner, surrounded by stunted cats in various stages of fluffiness, Mr. Hirotashi took a moment to survey the other departments of the kitten lab before excusing himself.

The low, carpeted ceiling was crawling with tiny cats whose nimbleness had been enhanced by selective breeding, in hopes that youthfulness would be a side effect. In one corner, a wall of kittens bred specifically to be of one mind was mutating into a giant maw in order to chomp on a large felt mouse. Though the singularity of their vision was inspiring and their synchronicity much improved from past specimens, they were still cats, not kittens. Cats on sofas, cats watching American children’s television, cats sitting in tiny desks, wearing tiny masks, pretending to be kittens.

All of the departments were a disappointment, but by far the worst was the kitty morgue. When he entered the kitten lab, Hirotashi always tried to avoid the kitty morgue, but it was right there by the door, the only exit from this hall of shattered dreams and broken hopes, through aisles of dead and dissected kitties. Attendants walked mournfully from one kitty to the next, wheeling a big magnifying glass on a lighted stand along with them. Each cat that died of old age was dissected and examined, photographed and recorded. Another failure. Compared to the staggering death tally of the kitten lab, even the hundreds of dead sheep that expired in the making of the anti-gravity plates seemed like nothing. Even the road to obesity’s cure had not been so strewn with tiny corpses. No research project yet had been so fruitless.

Hirotashi checked his watch. It was about time he scolded Toshiro for letting him sleep in. And, of course, he would have to test his dream theory before its implementation. Though it was almost guaranteed, by virtue of its origin, to be flawless. Musing on the giant brine shrimp, Mr. Hirotashi entered the decontamination room,

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