Cliff rode his motorcycle-like vehicle through the woods. As it was much darker now, he had to have his headlight on. Close behind him, up in the air, his new red-clad acquaintance followed. As the sky darkened, the faint glow that this new ally emitted while in flight became more noticeable.

Finally, Cliff slowed down and came to a stop. The one in red landed in front of him, and the glowing aura and wings vanished. “Is this the place?” he asked.

“Yep,” answered Cliff.

“So,” asked the one in red, “what can you tell me about this person we are going to meet?”

“Just wait till you see him,” maintained Cliff.

The two waited for a few moments until the one in red broke the silence. “It’s crazy what some people do to their pets,” he commented.

“What do you mean?” asked Cliff.

“All those people who force their dogs into sports jerseys,” answered the one in red, “and now there’s this idiot who weighs a cat down with a backpack?”

Suddenly, Cliff saw the cat that the one in red was referring to. At a moderate pace, it walked toward the one in red – and Cliff recognized it. The new acquaintance had seen the sight correctly – but interpreted it all wrong. Upon seeing a cat wear a backpack, he had interpreted it as a house cat who would never do such a thing on its own volition. But Cliff recognized the cat with the orange backpack. It was none other than Edmund – which meant that he was wearing the backpack because he wanted, or needed, to bring something along for the meeting.

Edmund lifted his head to the one in red, who kneeled down and let him sniff his hand. Then, the one in red did something most humans wouldn’t. He bent down further and allowed the cat to sniff his face.

“One moment,” said the one in red, upon rising from the greeting with the cat, who’s ear he was now scratching. “This backpack isn’t on that tight. You’d think a cat could get out if it any moment if it wanted to.”

After having both ears scratched, Edmund turned, walked a few feet, sat up, dropped the backpack to the ground, and went back to the one in red – still holding the pretense of being an ordinary cat. He walked around on all fours, enjoying the petting he was receiving from this new acquaintance – neither standing bipedally nor speaking. After a minute or so, Cliff even wondered if he had confused another cat with Edmund – but then realized that no ordinary cat would willfully carry a backpack. Anyhow – had he not himself for a long time, until the evening before as a matter of fact, been led to think that Edmund was an ordinary cat?

“This is a quite unusual cat,” observed the one in red. “It’s not just the backpack.”

“What is it?” asked Cliff.

“The consciousness I sense in it,” he said, “it’s like it’s at – a human level. I’ve only seen this with two or three other cats before in my life!”

At this mention, Edmund noticeably lifted his head in surprise – but kept on enjoying the pampering he was receiving.

“What if I said,” asked Cliff, “that this cat is the friend we’re here to meet?”

“Really?” asked the one in red, dismissively. “This cat may have a human level of consciousness, but how are you going to talk to it?”

At these words, Edmund again walked a few feet away from the one in red. But this time, instead of maintaining his pretense of being just an ordinary cat, he turned to the one in red – and stood up on two legs. He then held out his paws as he extended his thumbs to show that they were, in fact, hands.

“Okay,” said the one in red, a bit baffled now, “this I haven’t seen before.”

“It gets weirder,” noted Cliff. “He talks.”

“Really?” asked the one in red, curiously. The claim sounded outlandish – but so had so many other things he had seen, even that evening – even that very minute. Though he remained skeptical of Cliff’s claim, it was now the curious kind of skepticism – no longer the dismissive kind.

“It is true,” Edmund finally spoke.

“Are you, like, genetically engineered?” the one in red gasped in excitement.

“No,” answered Edmund, “at least not in my generation. Though it is possible that my ancestors were, in fact, subjected to genetic manipulation. There is much that remains unknown about how my ancestors came to be distinct from the cats that are common house-pets in this world.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” apologized the one in red. “I didn’t mean to offend you when I treated you like a regular cat.”

“Oh, come off,” said Edmund, “you didn’t offend me. I needed to get the feel of you before I revealed my true nature. Besides, I am still a cat. I enjoy a little pampering now and then – and were I opposed, I could have expressed that sentiment very clearly without revealing anything unearthly about myself.”

“So you are Cliff’s friend?” asked the one in red.

“I am,” he said. “The name is Raglaport. Edmund Raglaport. I am pleased to meet you.”

“I am pleased to meet you too,” replied the one in red.

“And,” said Edmund, “as you clearly know both of us by name, it appears you have us at a disadvantage.”

With that, he paused – hoping that the stranger would now reveal his name too.