KITTY PHYSICIST

DR. MISS KITTY CAT LONG, CAT PHYSICIST INTRODUCTION RENASCENCE-- Edna St.Vincent Millay- 1917 "All I could see from where I stood Was three long mountains and a wood; I turned and looked another way, And saw three islands in a bay. So with my eyes I traced the line Of the horizon, thin and fine, Straight around till I was Comeback to where I stated from; And all I saw from where I stood Was three long mountains and a wood. Over these things I could not see; These were the things that bounded me; And I could touch them with my hand, Almost, I thought, from where I stand. And all at once things seemed so small My breath came short, or scarce at all." CHAPTER 1 There is in the scheme of the Universe forces that conspire to keep us from understanding things. These forces are formidable and have yet to be overcome by any person. All other living creatures: animals, trees, birds, grass, fish, carrots are born privy to everything they need to know and suffer no concern over that which is not required to meet their day to day needs.Dr. Miss Kitty Cat Long, owner of Cap'n Rich Long and his First Mate Martha Long, was lounging on the computers' flat bed printer waiting for a sheet of paper to begin chattering out of the dark narrow slit where her paw would not fit. She knew there were more sheets of paper still lurking in there because she had been casing the paper hideout for, how many years now? Three? Or was it four?She yawned, not caring if the paper came out today or not. The paper wasn't good for anything that she could see, just something to play with and make Cap'n Rich fuss. That was fun. Once he was so upset that Miss Kitty had spilled sheets of paper all over the floor that he chased her with his white cane down the cellar stairs on his wooden leg while calling her mother vile names more befitting that of a Bassett hound’s mother.They laughed; Daddy, Mommy and Miss Kitty. They had so much fun...So much fun...Back then...* * * * *"But, sure, the sky is big, I said;Miles and miles above my head;So here upon my back I'll lieAnd look my fill into the sky;And so I looked, and, after all,The sky was not so very tall.The sky, I said, must somewhere stop,And—sure enough!--I see the top!" CHAPTER 2Dr. Miss Kitty Long, CP (Cat Physicist) worried naught about the speed of light ©. It was obvious to her. All she had to do was lift one eyelid of her sky-blue eyes to see instantly the small housefly on the wall thirty feet away. She had heard the soft tapping of the fly's tiny footpads long before she decided to have a peep-see.The fly was minding it's own fly business, whatever fly business is, and posed no immediate danger to Miss Kitty or Cap'n Rich or Martha. That was all that really mattered. Miss Kitty loved her adopted parents and was sure that they loved her. Hadn't Cap'n Rich, frugal old Cap'n Rich shelled out $5,000 for her? That had to be love. He hadn't parted with that much even for Martha's wedding band which he had made out of a nickel by hammering it round own the edges and then drilling a hole the size of her finger in the middle of it. You could see the date 1936 on the inside of the ring. That was the year Mommy Martha (MM) was born. The Cap'n had worked two days on it ,polishing and filing to make it fit just right. MM loved him for the thought but always had secretly wished that Cap'n Rich had used a silver quarter instead of a nickel nickel. Through her closed eyes Miss Kitty observed that she could not see a thing except for some little sparks darting here and there on her eyelids. Long ago she had decided that it was just a normal happening due to the circulation of blood through the retinas. When she opened her eyes suddenly to see if light from the fly was still there, it wasn't. She waited patiently for the image of the fly to arrive, counting off the seconds in her head. When she had counted to thirty she stopped counting and quickly calculated that since the fly was thirty feet away and the light from it had not yet reached her, the speed of light © therefore was less than a foot a second. Close enough, she concluded. Cap'n Rich walked into the room, saw Dr. Miss Kitty rapidly blinking her blues. "What the hell are you doing, damn cat?" he asked by way of conversation. "Thinking. You ought to try it sometime." Miss Kitty stopped her mental experiment long enough to deduce that maybe the fly had flown, heh heh. "Don't know how, Pussy Cat. Is it hard to do?" "Never thought about it, Cap'n. I don't think it's hard. I just do it without thinking.” "What were you just thinking about? Anything important?" "Naw, just ©." "Well, mine feline, what do you think about it?" "Sometimes it moves slow, sometimes it moves fast, sometimes it doesn’t move at all. Other times it's here already." * * * * * "The sky, I thought, is not so grand; I most could touch it with my hand! And reaching up my hand to try, I screamed to feel it touch the sky. I screamed, and—lo!--Infinity..." Millay-1917 CHAPTER 3 Or maybe; truth be known, it was all an illusion conjured up in the mind of some playful deity. That sounded to Miss Kitty like a possibility worthy of further pondering.She pondered it for a moment while observing the unmoving fly upon the white wall. Was the fly observing her back? What could she be thinking if that were the case? Maybe the fly too was thinking about © and wondering about things.Dr. Miss Kitty focused her trained mind back on more likely chains of thought. There was from her viewpoint atop the headrest of Cap'n Rich's recliner an excellent opportunity to study his baldhead upon which there was a small light brown speck, a freckle perhaps, or maybe a flyspeck?Cap'n Rich was catnapping, something Miss Kitty had taught him to do and he took to it like a duck to water or a green fly to a tiger turd.She didn't wish to awaken him so she ever so gently put out her soft dainty paw to determine if the spot would brush away. She liked to keep both her adopted daddy and mommy spic and span in case company dropped by unexpectedly. Miss Kitty didn't want anyone calling the daddy a shit head. The spot didn't move but daddy did! "What's up, pussy cat?" he said, sounding like Tom Jones. "Are you playing around with the top of my head?" "No, Cap'n. It must have been another of your kinky dreams." The Cap'n considered that explanation for a moment, decided it was a distinct possibility. He never remembered any of his dreams. "What's kinky about a cute blue-eyed physics co-ed softly stroking my bald pate, particularly a co-ed that has eight tits?” the Cap’n asked sarcastically. These young people of today just don’t have imagination. "Never you mind Cap. I don't want to give you any notions that you can't handle." Kitty said. Cap'n Rich thought that remark over. "There are so many thing to ponder. I'll never get any work done on time and space.” As always, Miss Kitty was tuned in to the Cap’n thoughts telepathically. Since he had mentioned it himself Miss Kitty figured it was a good time to divert the Cap'n’s mind back on the subject of the speed of light. "I think we ought to re-think the whole concept of space, time and the speed of light." "Why is that, kitty cat?" “Doesn’t light need to accelerate to get up to the speed of 300,000 km/second? Does it not have to star from 0 when you first turn on a flashlight and build up to c?” “Can’t say as how I ever thought about it before. Now that I have, I would think ‘yes’ at first thought.” The Cap’n’s mind was churning. "And it's absurd on the face of it, a universe that keeps expanding and gaining speed as it does so. Come now. Strings? Worm holes? Ha! I tell you Cap'n that something is amiss here. The whole lot of scientific thinking should be tossed out and other theories developed if we are ever to clear up human understanding.?" “Do I want to do that, cat? To hell with it I submit.” Miss Kitty frowned at the spot on the wall where the fly had once been. Mama Martha didn't allow flies in the castle and it was part of Dr. Miss Kitty's duties to see to it that no flies, bugs, mice, rats, snakes, alligators or pterodactyls etc. etc. etc. invaded their humble castle. She must catch the fly later. "I concur with your reasoning completely, Doctor, but isn't that what I have been telling you for years?" he scratched the spot on his head. He was a little concerned and puzzled that he couldn't quite discern if he had really been spilling his thoughts to a cat for years. His forgetfulness was starting to bother Martha also. Once or twice lately he had forgotten to properly secure his wooden leg to his stump and it fell off sending him sprawling. Once this happened in a restaurant. None of the fellow diners even noticed his predicament, as he lay there on the floor unable to get up. Mate Martha tried to pull him up but she was too slight and he weighed 200 pounds soaking wet. It wasn't until two police officers arrived on the scene, cuffed him, arrested him for public intoxication that he was jerked up from the floor, thrown into the back of a police car that Mate Martha hurried to assist him, swinging the Cap'n's wooden leg like a baseball bat. "Turn my drunken husband loose," she yelled at the top of her shrill voice. The Cap'n cringed in the back of the police car to hear her describe him as 'my drunken husband'. He hadn't had a drink in years. Her memory must have reverted back to the olden days when he used to have a half of beer at bedtime. A woman, like that animal that never forgets, an egret or something like that maybe, never forgets. Just as she was winding up to bop cop number one upside the head, cop number two grabbed her from behind and took the leg away from her. He laid it on the hood of the patrol car while he cuffed her and read hr her rights. "What am I being charged for? I was just trying to help my poor drunken husband." she whined. "Assault with a deadly weapon on a police officer, Ma'am. Now get in the back of the squad car with your poor drunken husband," he said opening the door and laying his hand atop of her head for some reason. "Sexual harassment, sexual harassment," she screamed. "Did you see that, Cap'n Rich? He tried to feel me up!" "I didn't see anything, baby. The nice officer is just trying to do his job. Besides, honey poo, you are seventy years old." Cap'n Rich had been in the back of a police car before once or twice and he knew how to behave. Martha banged him over the head with her pocketbook. "Are you saying that I am not still sexy enough for red- blooded hot cops not to feel me up?" She hit the Cap'n again with her heavy pocketbook. He saw sparks dancing on the ceiling of the patrolcar. "Okay you two, break it up! Get out of the car. Now!" The snarling policeman opened the door for them and helped them out, took off the handcuffs with a sigh heavenward. "I'm turning you loose.” He gave the Cap'n back his wooden leg, even stooped to help him put it on properly. Handing Cap'n Rich his white cane he said, "You might need this to ward off pocketbook attacks. Now go home and sleep it off before I change my mind and run you both in." "Thank you Officer, sir." Cap’n Rich said thankfully. "Forget it, Cap’n. I can see that you have problems aplenty being blind, cripple, and having a cute sexy wife to keep up with. You don't belong in jail, probably deserve a metal of some kind." Martha smiled at him broadly and winked invitingly blowing him kisses that the Cap’n heard, smack, smack, smack on the officer’s cheek. The Cap'n shrugged his shoulders at the cop as if to say, "Take her. I'll give you a thousand dollars." They drove back to their castle with Martha recounting over and over how the handsome officer had accosted her. She finally summed it up to experience. "After all," she said forgivingly, "you men are all just alike. Can’t think of but one thing.” By now the Cap’n’s thoughts were on Miss November. CHAPTER 4 Dr. Miss Kitty was perched in her favorite location on the headrest of Cap'n Rich's red velvet recliner while the Cap’n was catnapping, a practice he had learned too well from Dr. Kitty. Since the Cap'n cat napped so frequently these warm summer days Dr. Kitty could hardly nap at all. Somebody had to watch over her adopted daddy at all times to be sure he didn't hurt himself by rolling out of the chair or something else unforeseen. Martha, Dr. Kitty's adopted mama, could not be present at all times. Somebody had to empty the litter box, housekeeper, cook supper and make the ships in bottles while the Cap'n snoozed. Another reason Dr. Kitty couldn't nap while the Cap'n snored with his fingers laced across his stomach was that she was attuned to his mental processes even as he slept. He used to have interesting dreams of space travel and starships. Now his dreams were a tangle of mathematical equations, a jumble of glass lab equipment, belly dancers, beach beer parties of long ago, and Ava Gardner. Ah, he dreamed so pleasantly. It just wasn't fair thought Miss Kitty. If she had to be awake while the Cap'n snoozed she wished to ponder theoretical physics or something interesting like that. Who was this Ava Gardner person that filled the Cap'n's dreams. Probably some hussy he had met in a smoke filled barroom long ago. Miss kitty would wager that she knew naught about differential calculus or quantum mechanics. The bitch. Of course, if Dr. Kitty was so disposed, she could interject her musings into the Cap'n's dreams by simply asking him an easy thought question like how far can a flashlight beam go? Oops. The Cap'n stirred and immediately thought, "All the way, my pussy cat. Once light is created it fills the entire Universe. With a powerful enough telescope, mien $5,000 cat, you could even see my flashlight shining at you on the edge of your furtherest thought if it didn't get sucked into a black hole along the way." This is my Cap'n at his best, thought Kitty, pleasantly aware that fruitful years were still left in the old goat. What if he did forget where he put things and peed in his pants at times? He was still Miss Kitty's daddy and she loved him. "Dr. Miss Kitty, do you realize that I can read every thought that you are thinking even though I am asleep. And don't call my Ava a bitch. She was married to Frank Sinatra!" he said proudly as if that excused his dalliances with her in his dreams. "Sorry, Dad. I forgot that we were on the same mental frequency. Sometimes I wonder if your demented mind is just making all this up about us communicating telepathically. Maybe I'm just an ordinary cat and you created my character to have someone to talk to." "Damn, Miss Kitty, I hope not. I love you too, baby. You must be real, mustn't you?" Cap'n Rich awoke suddenly from his afternoon slumber and bolted upright in his chair. It was a day mare, he reasoned. Miss Kitty sat reassuringly in his lap looking up at him with adoring blue eyes. The Cap'n put his wrinkled old hand on Miss Kitty's pure white fur except for a small black beauty mark on her left ear and he stroked her gently. "I know you are real Kitty. Your mommy is not around to hear. Whisper something intelligent," the old Cap'n smiled at her and tickled her softly under her chin. "Meow," said Dr. Miss Kitty Long, Cat Physicist. CHAPTER 5 Martha Lou Long, aka My Baby, aka Bitch, aka Mommy, aka Sweetie Pie.DOB- September 16, 1936Married- January 6, 1970Occupation: Housewife and world famous Ship in Bottle builder.Husband's Name- Cap'n Rich Bruce LongDOB- November 23, 1934Occupation: Mad Scientist, retiredChildren: none. Adopted 1Name: Dr. Miss Kitty Long. Race: CatOccupation: Theoretical Physicist- retiredDOB- 1895.Martha Long, dba Mrs. Cap'n Rich Long, hates to get up in the mornings. Oh, how she hates to get up in the mornings. She covers her head up to sleep in the darkness a little longer. Damn the birds chirping and the sunshine peeping into her room. Why did God have to invent such loathsome things?Five minutes more, O Lord, five minutes more... pleeeze, Gawd…zzzzzzzzzzSuddenly the overhead light explodes with harsh vile illumination from three 100 watt bulbs that fills every crack and crevice of the bed chamber with a horrible brightness that even penetrates the bedcovers shielding her eyes. Arggggggg! There stood, at the side of her bed, a lewdly leering Cap'n Rich in his underwear and a meowing Dr. Kitty in her birthday suit. Dr. Kitty stood on the seat of the Cap'n's fancy four- wheeled walker. The walking assisting device had been kindly supplied by the Veteran's Administration for services rendered by Rich during the Civil War (or was it the Korean War?) What difference did it make? One war was as good as another. He knew it was over fifty years ago. Hell, who gives a crap anymore? The Cap'n didn't really need assistance with his walking he told everyone. He really did but he lied about it anyway. His wooden leg sufficed nicely, thank you. Dr. Kitty liked to ride on the seat to catch the breeze and watch for low flying chickens in the corridors of the castle. Both Cap'n Rich and the Doctor loved waking Mommy up in the mornings. Boy, could she fuss! Rich would sit on the side of the bed and coo pleasant nothings into her ear such as, "Get out of that rack, you lazy Bitch! We're burning daylight!" He would yank the covers from over her head exposing her to daylight with much groaning and moaning like Dracula did when his coffin lid was opened in the daytime. Miss Kitty, knowing the routine, pounced on her bed pillow, and vigorously washed Mommy's face with her pink sandpaper tongue. Mommy squinted and squirmed and pushed Dr. Miss Kitty away, spitting and sputtering at the indignity of being bathed by a cat. "What makes her do that? I don't want cat slobber all over me every morning." Martha said while throwing her still attractive legs over the side of the bed. "What makes her do that, Genius?" "It's the lotion, my love. Maybe you should try another brand, baby cakes." It was Martha's habit to anoint her face, arms, legs and other areas with Avon products each night to ward off old age and other inevitable blemishes. She had been doing this since she was a young child. She and the Avon Company had aged gracefully together blemishes and all; the company getting richer and Rich getting poorer. Oh well, Rich thought, my $5,000 cat seems to like the taste. "Meow," thought Dr. Kitty in agreement, licking her chops and pawing her lips as though her tiny foot was an after dinner napkin. She stretched her back with her butt in the air and tried to sharpen her claws on the Cap'n's wooden leg. He swooshed her away. She perched on the walker seat continuing to wash her face, ears and the bottom of her right hind foot with her pink tongue. The Cap'n wondered if she had been to the litter box this morning, shuttered thinking 'no more kissing for the cat.. "Great, Cap'n. I never liked that tongue thing you do anyway." Dr. Kitty joked, breaking into Rich's private meditations. He never kissed anyhow. The Cap'n smiled at her comment, changed the subject, asked the Doctor, "When an apple falls to earth is it really because of gravity or does the earth move up to meet the apple?" He wheeled the walker down the hallway to the kitchen with Dr. Kitty stll aboard. She answered him, "I've seen some rather persuasive mathematics towards that end. What do you think, Rich?" She looked at him and scratched her head. The Cap'n's time hardened brain cells were by now on another subject; the confound coffee maker. Do you turn it on or off to make coffee? Miss Kitty looked at him sadly, answering his question in her mind. "Is it on or off now? Just flick the switch the other way, Cap'n." "Oh? Why yes, of course. Why didn't I remember to do that? Must be getting a little forgetful in my dotage, heh- heh." Dr. Kitty chuckled along with him concealing her concerns at the obvious decay of his once brilliant mind. It seemed to be getting worst with each passing day. Martha hurried through her morning ablutions knowing that the Cap'n and Miss Kitty were meddling about in her kitchen where they might hurt themselves on the complicated devices and/or the sharp knives and forks in the galley.. She knew that Miss Kitty looked after the Cap'n as best she could and that she seemed to be an usually smart cat, but after all she was only a cat and what on earth can cats do to really help out in an emergency? Meow for help is all. Martha listened for Miss Kitty's cries for help, heard nothing, and assumed the Cap'n was safe for the time being. She donned her apparel, white shorts and a black t-shirt with sparkling rainbow colored seagulls and palm trees with the letters Myrtle Beach emblazed across her boobs. Make-up applied, Martha headed to the galley to fetch the Cap'n. They always took their breakfast out at various local restaurants of which there were two. Decisions, decisions. CHAPTER 6 The Fifties Cafe had opened several years ago with supposingly the motif of a cafe of the 1950's. The Cap'n and Miss Martha couldn't remember any cafes from that period that were like this one. The owner and the waitresses were hardly out of their twenties. How could they know of the fine cafes that were everywhere fifty years ago complete with flies and open dishes of butter sitting invitingly on every table to act as fly airports. Back then cafes thoughtfully supplied open glasses of ice water (real glass too, no styrofoam) at every place sitting around the red checkered oil cloth tablecloths that adorned each table. If there were enough flies in these high class cafes they would butter your biscuits for you adding extra flavor from the johns. Yummy. How they sighed for the good ol' days when most beaneries were kept clean as a whistle, slobber and all.At least the Cap'[n did.Martha, for one, appreciated the upgrade in sanitation laws. She wasn't fond of cigar ashes in her scrambled eggs. She could very well do without burnt toast and having to pour cream out of a milk bottle into real perked coffee that had been sitting on the stove for three hours and had rainbow colored grease floating on the surface.Oh, how she hated having to bring Cap'n Rich out every morning to breakfast, but it was her job, one of many. Oh, her many, many jobs.The Cap'n could no longer drive since he lost his eyesight. One time he got it into his head that he could drivebetter blind than Martha could with her eyesight.His plan was to have Martha sitt in the passenger seat and give him directions. It would be simple he said. Afterall there are only four directions to give: Stop, Go, Turn Right, Turn Left. Even a moron could remember that. How, she wondered, how, how, how had he talked her into that. She must have been crazy back then. That was the only explanation.Why would any woman in her right mind even dream of going along with such a hare-brained scheme?Why, why, why?Thankfully they made it around the block before the Cap'n guided the auto back to homeport without a mishap and vowed never, never to take her out for a cruise again. Apparently his loving wife was incapable of giving simple instructions without a lot of screaming, yelling, grabbing the steering wheel, and stamping hard on his brake foot. Face it, he thought, she's just not Officer Material. You have to be able to give orders to be in command. Obviously she couldn't. Oh well, she's sexy.While they waited for the waitress she took the Cap'n's hand across the table and smiled at him, remembering the old days. He didn't smile back. His thoughts were on pi. How could he be sure that pi was 3.17.... ad infinitum? He had always heard that but now he wasn't so sure. It seemed to him... his thoughts were interrupted...She gave his hand a little squeeze and lip- syned the words "I love you, you old coot!"The Cap'n heard her lips form the words and said in a loud voice so the other breakfasters could hear her answer."Are you sure you love me!" he bellowed.She knew the routine and responded back loud enough for all to hear her answer, "If I didn't do you think I would stay with you for one more crazy minute! I'd be outta here in flash!"The Cap'n smiled at her and squeezed her a little bit. Mustn't let her know that he's still all agog over her. Besides her bones were getting brittle.The cute little waitress arrived at their table receipt book in hand and pencil in hair. Pulling out her yellow pencil she asked pleasantly, "what'll it be this morning, Sweetie?""How did you know my name was Sweetie, Honey?" the Cap'n asked."Oh, you just look like a sweetie to me, Sweetie," she gave his bald head a little kiss."I thought that might be it. Who are you?""I'm your same waitress every morning but Saturdays.""Ah yes. You're Maude. Right?""Bess," she answered with her usual smile in her voice. They went through this routine every morning. Martha awaited their banter to subside before ordering. In their thirty-six years of marriage she had never been able to break him from his habit of flirting with waitresses. He said it had started back in his college days at N.C. State College before it became co-educational and designated an University There were no girls to talk to in class so when the bell rang for lunch the guys would all flood into the restaurants on Hillsboro Street to eat hamburgers and out do each in flirting with the waitresses. The waitresses just loved it. Most of them had taken jobs in the diners across from the campus to meet students and to, hopefully, marry one. Could that be 50 years ago, the Cap'n thought, … so long ago, seems only last week."But he's a college man, Mama! I thought he would marry me." College… that was all that mattered... back then, 50 years ago.Cap'n Rich let Martha order first because that's what a gentleman does, she had taught him. He couldn't order for her because 1. She was glucose intolerant and 2. She was lactose intolerant.Being so, she labored over her item selection each morning before deciding that she could eat nothing but grits and eggs; no toast, no coffee, which she hated, and no meat.Cap'n Rich ordered his usual; two platypus eggs over easy, kosher bacon, grits with gravy and two platypus bills toasted with butter, coffee black and sweet like he liked his women.In a few minutes Bess returned with their breakfast and silverware. Martha ordered the same thing each morning and the Cap'n did too but she brought him chicken eggs and burnt toast and black coffee with no sugar, no bacon and no gravy on his grits. After Bess had returned to the kitchen the Cap'n muttered to no one in particular, "I don't see why in hell a full grown man for once can't get what he orders for breakfast around here. Chicken eggs for gosh almighty. Do you have any idea where those things have been, Martha?" "Yes, dear," she answered while peppering his eggs for him and putting his fork in his hand. "You've told me many times. I still can't believe it though." CHAPTER 7 The ten-foot high massive and ornate iron gates automatically swung open when Martha nosed the Land Rover into the driveway of Castle Richenstien. The gate keeper was asleep in the guard house as usual. It mattered not to the Long’s that he slept all day. They wrote his tidy salary off as a deduct as was his trim and fancy uniform.Cap'n Rich in his younger tinkering around days had install and electric eye in the stone column that immediately recognized the retinas of their eyes and opened the portal for them without awakening the gatekeeper, the poor soul had a monstrously fat wife and eleven screaming children to keep him awake at night.A maple tree lined avenue decorated the two mile drive in to the castle moat."Halt! Who goes there?" an automated voice inquired from a large load speaker installed on the parapet twenty feet above the moat."Us, dammit! Who else comes here?""What's the password?" asked the speaker aloofly."Password?" the Cap'n couldn't remember the password."That is correct. US may enter the castle as soon as the drawbridge descends or before if you like alligators. Heh, heh, heh, heh..." The Cap'n wondered why he had ever programmed the automatic speaker to wise off at visitors. He'd been planning on getting around to re-do it for many years, but something always came up.The heavy massive wooden grill of timbers made a squishy plop into the mud sending sunning reptiles off in all directions. Drawbridge in place, Martha jammed the pedal to the metal and steered the slipping and spinning tires of the Land Rover across the dew damp timbers of the bridge with one rear wheel over the edge. Alligators smiled up expectantly with mouths agape. CHAPTER 8 Martha expertly zigzagged the vehicle across the bridge just before the contraption snapped shut like some giant mousetrap. This was a Cap’n Rich invention to discourage an invasion of large rodents and thus still Dr. Miss Kitty’s rapid heartbeats. She never had developed a fondness for mice bigger than she was. The Cap’n and Mate Martha made their way down the caverness corridor running smack dab down the middle of the Castle Richenstien; the Cap’n peeling off from the two person formation and gliding into his bookshelf lined study where Dr. Miss Kitty perched poised on her favorite spot upon the head rest of the Cap’n’s recliner. Mate Martha continued on down the hallway to the galley to do womanly things like wringing her hands and wishing she had married the milkman. The Cap’n and Dr. Miss Kitty had been in constant communication the whole time so they dispensed with social amenities and got right back on the subject they were exploring. “So, Gawd damnit, cat, are you holding Superman’s steel balls a distance apart in a space devoid of all other matter?” “I’m imagining it but I don’t like it. What if Superman comes looking for his personal belongings?” “We’ll hurry. Are we still agreed that there is a gravitational force between the two balls?” “Since we merely accepted that it was true, I still agree.” “So that if we increase d, the G force merely becomes smaller and never completely goes away given this universe is finite.” “Let me think about that for a moment before we go on.” The Cap’n strummed his fingers impatiently. Was Dr. Kitty retarded? She heard that. “Okay, Cap’n. Proceed. I can imagine anything you might propose.” Miss Kitty was bit angry about being regarded as a retard. “Now let’s take the balls the other way; closer together, so that d = 0. One would assume that the G force would increase as opposed to decreasing as the balls move closer together. Right, dumb cat?” “If I understand you correctly, it indeed would. And don’t call me dumb cat.” “So, dumb feline, what magnitude of G must exist if there is no distance between particles in space? This would necessarily mean that there is only one particle in the universe of our conception and that G would equal infinity!” “Huh?” CHAPTER 9 “Did you say ‘huh’? Huh?” “No, I said huh, not huh huh.” “Moving right along, imagine in our universe that there is only one particle of matter with either: 1. Infinite G, or 2. Zero G because there is no other particle in the universe upon which to exert G.” “It would have to be one way or the other. Now that I have given it deep and prolonged thought I would vote for there being no gravity.” “Now why is that, pussy cat?” “Because, my mentor, we could never separate Superman’s balls even with the mightiest of force if we had to overcome an infinite gravity.” “Ah so! Very good, Doctor.” Cap’n Rich remarked with delight that Miss Kitty was anticipating his thought chain. The cat was pleased at his small praise of her. It was very rare these days that he said anything that didn’t come out as grouchy ridicule. For the most part she just ignored it in respect for his age. Sometimes though she made a caustic back at him, which she always regretted later. Now she thought that he was on to something in their make-believe universe. “So Cap’n Rich, it would seem …” “ Right on, Dr. Kitty! Correct again! In order to create gravitational fields we must, by hook or crook, separate our one particle into…” “Two particles!” Dr. Kitty clawed her way with utter delight down the front the Cap’n’s lab coat to cut figure eights around his feet. Saints be praised, she thought. I love the Cap’n when he’s on the case. No one does it better! “Thanks for thinking that, Doctor. I concur completely?” The Cap’n smiled briefly at his thoughts then turned his mind back to the subject at hand saying, “It’s too hard imagining separating one of Superman’s steel balls into two steel balls so I want you to in your mind substitute a glob of bubble gum there instead of the steel ball. I know that you are going to ask what kind of bubble gum. Well, the only kind I can recall from my youth is Double Bubble, so Double Bubble it is.” “Chewed or unchewed?” “Chewed and rolled into a ball.” “Got it, Cap. Chewed and rolled into a pink ball floating in space.” “Hold on there, cat. There is no space yet. Wait until we separate the Double Bubble then we will create space along with gravity and time. Okay?” “Gulp! I’m not so sure, but you’re at the helm, Cap’n. I’ll try to follow along?” “Thanks Puss. I’m sure I’ll need your input to sort of keep me on course. You know how my old mind tends to wander.” “Do you remember that we were talking about bubble gum?” “Oh, yeah, that’s it. Think of one particle made out of bubble gum and that’s all. Now take your left hand, er, paw that is, and grab hold of the left side of the bubble gum. The gum is so pliable that you can dig your fingers, er, claws into it. You couldn’t do that with Superman’s balls. Now take your right paw and dig your claws into the right side of the bubble gum. Do you see where I’m going with this?” “Hell no. And I don’t think that anyone else would either?” “Then follow this line of thought. Slowly pulled the bubble gum apart so that you have two sections separated by a distance d. Since the bubble gum is stretchy and malleable there is a little string of gum stretching between the two parts.” “Okay. I can vision that.” “And the gum is elastic like a rubber band thus exerting a tendency for the two parts to join back together. What have we here, cat o’ mine?” “Something like gravity?” “And…?” “And what?” “The gravity is not moving! It is a static entity. It is still like the strand of bubble gum stretching between the two parts. It was created by our pulling the bubble gum apart, heh?” “So the original question that we set out to answer; ‘What is the speed of Gravity?’ has thus been ascertained!” “Righto, Pluto! The speed of gravity has no meaning in our universe. Gravity does not move.” Martha walked into the study chamber interrupting the mad scientist and his makeshift assistant, Igor, also known as Dr. Miss Kitty Long, cat physicist. “Lunchtime, you two. Quit playing and get in the dining hall or I’ll throw it to the gators and don’t forget to wash your hands and paws! I mean it!” CHAPTER 10 Dawn Fawn, beautiful skin-tight Spandex black-clad CIA operative placed an aluminum ladder across the alligator laden moat beneath the west wall of Castle Richenstien, the smiling gators eagerly awaiting Dawn’s attempt to cross over only inches above the dark and algae filled water. The seductive Dawn had long since grown accustom to men gaping at her like the hungry alligators were doing now so she came prepared to dampen their ardor with a few pounds of potassium nitrate, also known as saltpeter, which she took from the hundred pound bag she kept at home under her bed to help fend off horny suitors, a few tablespoons secretly place in their drinks generally would do the job except for the one prison escapee she had captured by dancing nude before her bedroom window while her shadow appeared alluringly on the drawn shade. She had caught five other escapees that night plus two traveling salesmen and a cop. Not bad, she thought, for a slow night. Dawn stood on the edge of the moat, not too close, and estimated the number of gators over ten feet long divided by 3 and multiplied by the cube root of 27. Hummm. She came up with the answer to cause reptile dysfunction, quickly dumped 5 pounds into the murky water. The gators unknowingly swirled the saltpeter with their tails while snapping wildly at the splash the dumping had caused. I hope the moat is not the reservoir for the castle, Dawn Fawn thought sadly; Cap’n Rich might be kind of cute. She softly smiled at the prospect and darted lightly across the moat atop the rungs of the ladder. The gators watched impotently, puzzled about why they couldn’t arise to the task. “Sorry boys! Better luck when I leave. It happens to everybody at times.” She blew them a kiss, touched a secret place on her wrist watch and a spider web thin line of something shot heavenward to the top of the castle wall. Pushing another secret place on the watch the almost invisible line zipped Dawn Fawn onto the parapet above in a single instant where she landed deftly like a cat on all fours thus presenting less of a target to watching archers with itchy bowstrings.