Chapter Twenty-One

The moon hung suspended in the black sky like a small white disk, and the bitter wind fought its way through every crack in the walls of the "People's Collective Time Marches Ever Forward" Watch Factory. It was midnight, and the sky turned darker and darker.

The old red cat blinked, then stretched. "And that, my fellow cats, is the story of Koshka, the Wonder Cat of the Kremlin. At the count of five, you will all awaken, refreshed and re-vitalized. One. Two. Three. Four. Five."

Eyes blinked, backs arched, and paws stretched.

"Ura! Ura!" went the cats. "Koshka's our very own hero!"

"And he told us all that he'd miss us!" said Misha.

"Yes!" Grisha added. "And we told him we'd all miss him too!"

"He's our very own hero!" said Almaz the Persian, who was sitting in the back of the parts bin with his fellow Kirovsky Prospekt cats.

"Koshka's a model for us all!" said Terem and Terek, the cats from the Caucasus.

Hagia Sophia stepped forward from the shadows. "Why, that's nothing! I lived in the very same building with the Wonder Cat! In fact," she said, preening herself. "I helped him in his heroic rescue! He and I--we-"

"Help-schmelp!" grunted Avvakuum. "We were all there. We all saw what happened! So don't go saying anything bad--or anything at all--about our personal hero!"

"I was merely pointing out that-"

"We know, we know," said Misha wearily.

Avvakuum leapt back up to the tallest work bench. "Let's not waste time scrapping now! We have business to attend to this evening." He cleared his throat, then checked his notes. "Hrumph! First of all, we can't meet here anymore!"

"Why not?" asked a chorus of shocked cats.

"They're re-opening the watch factory!" snapped Avvakuum. "Just when we got comfortable here!"

"It's no problem--no problem at all!" offered Misha. "I was in the Glasnost Hotel--I mean, the Glasnost Deluxe International Residential Complex this morning, and you should see what they've done for us cats! It's that nice man Perezhitkov, and Osip the waiter too! Why, they built a special room for us, in the cellar! It has a whole line of food tins, and heaters, and carpeting, and scratching posts even."

"Scratching posts? Argh!" snorted the old red cat. "They're spoiling us rotten!" Then he cleared his throat, re-checking his notes at the same time. "I have one final announcement before we adjourn. Yes, the--the, er, our friends in Moscow, the Yauza River Feline Elders' Congress have contacted me. They send us their greetings. And, and they tell us we are going to have a special visitor for a day. Our--our-" The old red cat shook his head, then clutched his throat. "I can't talk! There's something wrong with my voice! I--I must be ill!"

"It's called crying!" said Misha. "And it's allowed here, so continue, please."

"Hrumph!" Avvakuum cleared his throat, and his voice rang out, true and strong and happy and clear. "The hero of our beloved Cat Chronicles, our very own Koshka, the greatest cat of them all, is going to pay us a visit! His companion Masha will accompany him. They will stay in the Glasnost hotel--the Glasnost Deluxe International Residential Complex, I mean, and he will be attended by the good widow Petrova in her flat and by Anna and David in their flat, during his brief visit."

"Ura! Ura!" came the cry from the cats. And outside, the harsh wind stilled, and the moon came out from behind a cloud.

The End

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