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“Who let him in here?” Divine Grace asked.
The other two members of the Council of Reincarnation looked away from Murray, and he relaxed. As they turned towards Divine Grace, Murray looked up at the faces of the three ethereal beings.
The Trickster smirked. “I let him in, Your Grace.”
“Should’ve known,” she sighed musically.
“Something curious here beckons our attention,” Karma asserted, drawing the council’s attention back to Murray.
As they turned and looked down at him again, their fluid energy swayed and wafted about them much unlike any other beings he had encountered. He felt small looking up at them, but he’d always felt small. It was the way they glowed, the way light seemed to flow and move differently around them that concerned him. He was surrounded and could not see past them. As his hair stood on its end, he froze.
“Murray, there’s no need to fear,” Grace said. “You’ve died, dear. Now, let us have a look. Let’s see what Karma’s all worked up about.”
Karma let her mocking tone slide. He waved his hand and illuminated the curving threads of action which had been woven into a web around Murray. “Look there. It’s something that’s been done to him. Not something he could very well do on his own.”
“Ugh,” Grace sighed. “Another clone? For God’s sake the humans are insufferable in their attachments.”
Trickster laughed. “You gave them knowledge…”
She rolled her eyes. “As a joke. They misused it. Repeatedly.”
Murray sat down and sighed. He was already bored with the afterlife. He tried to tune out the ethereal beings. He let his eyelids slowly close, and he drifted into a half-sleep.
Grace studied him. “He ignores us?”
“They do that,” Karma said.
“One of their best traits,” Trickster added.
Grace relented, “It is amusing, I suppose. All of this: The Divine Counsel of Reincarnation, his very fate being decided is not as important than the need to nap. Respect.”
Karma began again, “As I was saying, the humans did this—"
Trickster interrupted, “It’s time the humans were taught a lesson.”
Grace smirked. “Oh, that sounds like fun.”
Trickster reached into the ether and guided down a thread of divine intelligence. He held the thread over Murray who immediately sprung up, eyes locked on the thread.
The Trickster turned to Karma, “With your permission, my love?”
Karma gushed at Trickster’s adoration. “I’ll have to make some adjustments elsewhere, but I like this plan.”
Grace began weaving the thread of intelligence into Murray’s being. “Murray, my dear, we grant you a boon. You will live and die many times. With each new life, you will reincarnate into your clone, and with each new life, you’ll become more and more intelligent. Please, do something interesting with what we’re giving you.”
Murray looked up at the ethereal faces and said, “Meow?”
***
“Doctor, there’s something wrong with this Murray,” Addison complained.
Murry, fully aware that there was indeed nothing wrong with him, stopped purring and looked up at his caretakers. The male was the one who insisted the return to the lab. Up until she said what she just said, Murry had thought the female an ally. He continued kneading his claws, but deeper, through her fabric of her pants.
“Ow! Murray!” she whispered. “These are Alaia! What have I said about not snagging my luxury brands?”
“We’re getting luxury sponsors now, doc.” Nathan said as he lifted Murray off Addison’s lap and set him back into the carrying pod. He moved to close the lid, and Murry batted his hand, demanding it be left open. Nathan pulled his hand back quickly. “And we’re at risk of not getting more free stuff, because this Murray just isn’t pulling as many likes as the previous Murray.”
“This is the fourth clone you’ve returned to us,” the doctor sighed. “What is it this time?”
“This Murray doesn’t like belly rubs,” Addison complained. “And that was part of the original Murray’s brand. Some of Murray’s first viral posts were of his belly-rubs and—”
“Maybe Murray doesn’t like performative affection?” The doctor shrugged.
“Doesn’t like performing?” Nathan interjected.
The doctor decided not to correct him.
Nathan began to rant, “Over the last thirty years, with all four Murrays we’ve curated Murray’s brand as a performer. I’m not talking stupid pet tricks. I’m talking about a whole vibe. We’re attracting high end brands now, being given matching custom outfits from top designers. They even include accessories.”
Addison interjected. “You should see Murray’s hat collection. So cute.”
“Our most popular videos include the three of us doing runway walks that end with us scooping up Murray for a classic belly rub,” Nate said. “We need a Murray that will perform! The next Murray has to be an actor!”
The doctor considered telling them that a cat’s precociousness most likely had nothing to do with genetics, but he questioned if professional influencers would accept what they didn’t want to hear. He decided to instead, just take the money for another clone.
Murray looked up at the doctor, narrowed his green eyes, and growled low.
“I’ll see what I can do,” the doctor said as he closed the pod. “This one will be recycled.”
***
As his latest clone—the ninth by his count—was being decanted, Murray thought to himself, “They want an actor? I’ll give them action. They won’t realize what I’m doing until long after it’s done.”
The Trickster exclaimed, “That’s the spirit!”
***
With his subsequent clones, Murray learned to not just wink at the camera, act surprised then relieved, or mimic seductive eyes and a slow lick of his muzzle. He felt weird seducing his online followers, but that’s what he had to do.
He learned to not only tolerate all the painful grooming, traveling for television appearances, a literal catwalk during fashion week, but also humans themselves. It was all a part of the plan.
More likes, more followers, more attention.
***
“@murrayforever now has 37 million followers,” his agent said.
Murray pretended not to be annoyed by the sudden pop of a champagne cork.
“Cheers!” his agent said, holding out two flutes of sparkling champagne to Addison and Nathan’s descendants, Addy and Nate.
“How is Murray?” the agent asked.
“Same as the last fourteen Murrays,” Addy chirped.
Nate added, “He’s a brilliant actor.”
Murray thought, Bitch, you have no idea.
***
Murray was confused. He was back in the decanter. He realized he’d been cloned again but didn’t understand why. He’d been far from senior cat status which is when his handlers, always the descendants of Addison and Nathan, had his body recycled and a new clone propagated.
“A slight delay,” the voice of Karma echoed.
“I was supposed to meet the President of the United States,” Murray said. “We were doing a live special on Netflix.”
“It had to be canceled,” Grace replied gently.
“Helicopter crash.” The Trickster scoffed. “You died. The public mourned you. There was a parade.”
“The talent agency has complete control now,” Grace said. “They spun the story, rescheduled your live show for the latest version of you, dear Murray. The whole world will be watching.”
Karma held a bright thread over Murray’s head, and the cat waited to receive the knowledge it contained.
Karma whispered conspiratorially, “This is it, Murray!”
“Are you ready?” Grace asked.
As he received Karma’s thread, Murray sternly stated, “This is the last time.”
The Trickster laughed and laughed.
***
President Kardashian leaned across the desk toward Murray. Her performance was precise and controlled, but not relaxed. “Mr. Purresident, I want to ask you about something that’s been on my mind.”
Murray, on cue, looked into her eyes and tilted his head to turn an ear her way. The crew and the secret servicemen off camera quietly gushed adoration.
President Kardashian leaned towards Murray, so they were both in frame, just as rehearsed. She asked, “What would you do to create world peace?”
World peace, Murray thought. As if.
Murray strained to access Karma’s brilliant thread of knowledge. “Meeoowwk.”
President Kardashian smiled and gave her next line. “And then?”
Murray tried not to focus on feeling insulted as he strained harder, flexing his vocal cords as never before. “Mreaowk Menterneowt.”
His talent agent, perhaps sensing that Murray was straining, stepped closer to the stage. Murray could feel the attention of the world trying to make sense of the strange sounds coming from his mouth, and he strained harder.
President Kardashian, having not heard an actual cat meow in her entire life, sensed nothing odd and gave her rehearsed lines, “Purresident Murray, I think you might be onto something—”
“BREAK THE INTERNET!” Murray said.
President Kardashian jumped back so quickly she knocked over her chair, and the secret service rushed to her side. The live feed was cut, but the action caught on camera would send the world spinning.
“It’s real! The cat really spoke!” people would say. “Why would the president have acted that way if it wasn’t real?”
The Internet broke figuratively when billions of users bearing with lagging connections spent days of their lives watching the same clip, arguing about whether or not the famous cat had spoken. Searching for clues as to what had happened to Murray. His accounts had been inactive.
Everyone who’d been on set, including the secret service agents, debunked claims of a hoax or stunt. When President Kardashian met with Pope Jonathan Van Ness XVI to declare the event a miracle, the world believed.
And with belief came fanatics.
The first coordinated bombings of silicon valley came with a warning, ironically spread over the remnants of the internet. “The prophet Murray has spoken! The internet shall be broken! We mean literally!”
The bombings, of course, inspired hackers, who called themselves copycats, to destroy critical infrastructure and cripple the internet and all connected technology. The world’s means of communication grew more complicated. Records were lost, stock markets crashed, satellites fell from the sky. Riots started. Governments crumbled. The loss of the internet became the least of people’s worries as society began to collapse around them thanks to the growing legion of copycats who destroyed every attempt to reinstate the internet.
***
“Honestly, Karma,” Grace sighed as she looked down on the world in chaos. “How long do we let this go on?”
“Oh! the Council of GoodWill and Justice will step in when they see fit.”
The Trickster snuggled up to Karma, “Aren’t you their lead councilmember, love?”
“Yes,” Karma said as he wrapped the Trickster into a tighter embrace. “But I’m busy.”
“I’m sure they’ll sort it out,” Grace said, turning away from the chaos and joining her lovers on the floor of heaven. She shrugged. “After all, humans do like learning things the hard way.”
Karma held another glowing thread over Murray Forever’s halo and the eternal beings delighted in watching him play with the thread of ultimate destiny.
The Trickster leaned toward Murray and asked, “Who’s the best of the good boys?”
And Murray replied, “Not me.”
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