I must tell you about Gatta, because the native inhabitants of the planet, the Gatts, are so much like us cats. And I would say that the Gatts are more highly evolved than simple cats on this ancient Earth, except that was probably not the case. If we are so similar, who knows which feline race arrived where from where? Or whether we all arose at once on two planets, in two universes, for a purpose we do not yet know?

The planet Gatta was sparsely populated, and for good reason. When the red sun cast its red light, there was day, and when it fell away for longer periods, there was nonday. The nonday was inkier and darker than any night we have seen, but the day more bright and golden than any we have known. A city of gold rose to meet a golden sky, bathed in the red hues of the sun.

In the golden city, behind high walls, lived the beautiful race of gatts. They had fur of many colors and combinations, nearly always long, and they were larger than cats of Earth. The gatts formed elite societies in the golden city, and none were excluded. They were all elite. They wore fine garments and gave their days to important pursuits. The most admired of those pursuits was combat training, yet they kept a peaceful society and never warred among each other. For they were not the only inhabitants of Gatta.

Hiding in the deep black valleys was a monstrous race of Gorlings. Few gatts had ever seen one and lived to tell about it, but those who had struck fear into the hearts of all the rest. They described huge winged monsters with gaping jaws and cruel talons, who rose in flight above the blackness of the valleys only in the nonday. No one knew how many gorlings there were, because a gorling was always alone. It surely had no need of flying in numbers. No gorling had tried to fly over the walls of the city in the nonday, and no gatt dared leave his place of safety in the walled city until the sun rose red and cast its fierce glare on the planet.

So the gatts maintained a regiment of respected and elegantly dressed warriors, trained to do battle, but with no experience in dealing with the only creatures they might be forced to do battle with. They knew a golden sword was not hard or powerful enough to battle one of these monsters, and an iron sword was too heavy to lift. Being the genteel race they were, they would naturally have preferred negotiation, but not with monsters. So they prepared, in their way, and they waited.

Chief among the untested warriors was a large and powerful gatt with white and black fur, called Mithram. If the gatts had cared to elect rulers or appoint sovereigns, it would have been he, but they had no need for that. Mithram had a brave heart and a daring manner, and he tired of a life of waiting. He wanted to confront a monstrous gorling, and either die or prevail. But he refused to require his regiment to do the same. He would go alone.

Thus, at the next nonday, Mithram strode forth outside the walled city in his golden raiment, carrying his golden sword, and stood fearlessly on the cliff above the nearest deep valley.

"Come to me," he called. "Come and show yourselves." Immediately an odor like the fumes of sulphur and a deafening sound of heavy wings enveloped him. Mithram cried out as sharp talons grasped him and he felt himself snatched aloft into the air.

"Why do you sacrifice yourself?" the monster growled in cavernous tones.

"I do not," Mithram replied. "I give myself for good."

"What is good?" shrieked the gorling. "Good like a golden city? It offends me ...offends us. Were it not for the blockade of your walled city, my race would live in a comfortable soft glow of light, instead of inkiness or red glare!"

"And if our city had no walls?" asked Mithram.

The gorling leered. "Then everything would be easy for me. For us."

"And you, and your race, would leave us in peace?" Mithram asked.

Tightening his grip on Mithram, the gorling turned his back on the city and growled, "I would say".

This Mithram took to mean that the gorling who held him was the one in charge. But he looked beneath and saw no movement in the dark valley. He did have the eyes of a gatt and he saw nothing. The red of day would soon come. He would take one last risk.

"I will bargain with you," Mithram said. "You are a leader and I am a leader. We each believe the presence of the other keeps us from having the world we choose. Let us go to another place to strike our bargain, and then return."

The gorling shrieked and spun around, grasping Mithram tightly and flew over the city. The red sun burst into a sudden glare and blinded him. With another shriek, he flew straight toward it. Neither of them was ever seen again.

But in time to come, the walls of the golden city came down, the red light shone dimly into the deepest valleys, and the nonday was not frightening. The regiments of warriors were disbanded, and gave their days to philosophical discussion and training their young in finer things. Had a bargain been reached? No.

There was only one gorling. It required only one brave soul of superior wisdom among the gatts to take away the one.

Note: This story was originally published as part of the Authors and Artists Presentation of the CLAW Writer's Society in 2004. CLAW and that particular Writer's Society, led by Kitty the Great, for which the story was contributed by Mewsette, are now closed.