So I skipped going back to the doctor's office. The procedure sounded like a drastic step, and I didn't feel I was ready for that. Was having nothing but wires inside really that bad?

But now I'm on their mailing list. I keep getting spam texts and reminder calls.

"Hey! Mirk! Lend a hand over here?"

There wasn't anyone else in the room. Just the cat sprawled out on the couch.

"Yes! You! It's me. The cat."

My cat had never spoken before.

"You don't... sound like a cat?" I told her.

"Yeah well we all gotta work with what we have. But what I need you to do is shut this panel on my back."

I was so freaked out about my cat talking, I hadn't even noticed. There was a panel open on her back. I walked over and looked in. Nothing but wires inside.

"It popped open practicing my double reverse two and a half."

I closed the panel gently till it snapped shut.

"Thanks. Don't know why they put it in a place I can't reach," said the cat. "And I'm sorry about before. Guess I didn't like the idea of having competition. I got used to being the only one around, and when I found out there was somebody else, I suppose I got a little miffed. It was like my secret power or something."

I stroked the hair on her back, covering over the seam from the panel.

"But you know," she continued, "folks like me and you, we do real well in space. More cut out for it than other folks, on account of the wires. Better balance, less motion sick. And guess what?" she asked, looking up at me with her big yellow eyes.

"What?" I answered.

"Guess who won a pair of tickets in the Spacecat Lottery?"

I stared back into her big yellow eyes. Her pupils were dilating, and she started to purr.

“Let’s take a look at it,” said the doctor.

I was sitting on the cold exam table. I opened up my gown and popped the panel.

He put his hand inside me.

"Can you feel that?"

"No."

"Can you feel that?"

"No."

"How about this?"

"Nope."

The doctor took his hand out.

"Yep. Nothing but wires inside," he said. Then he wrote down some notes.

"So, that's probably quite embarrassing, isn't it?" he asked.

"Uh, I guess? It's not like it's most people's business. My cat has been treating me differently since she found out though."

He wrote down more notes.

"Well," he said, "we can begin the process right away. We'll need to grow the replacement organs first, of course. Then we can begin removing the wires and replacing them. I won't lie--it's a long and painful process, and your new organs may never feel quite right," he said, making air quotes around the word "right."

"So it's dangerous -- my condition, I mean. To stay like this. Nothing but wires inside."

"To stay like that? Oh no, not dangerous. In fact you'd probably outlive us all! It's just, well, you know, unnatural."

I didn't like the way he looked at me. So I looked down at the floor.

"I'll be sending some brochures home with you to read more about it. And I'll see you back here in a week to fill out all the paperwork. We happen to be having a sale on this procedure right now, so I'm sure your insurance will want you to start right away."

He left the room. My panel was still hanging open. I closed it and got dressed.

"Can I touch them?" asked Joti.

I nodded, and she ran her fingers over the tightly packed wires. I had opened the service panel in my chest for her to see.

"How could you not have known about this?" she asked.

"I had just never opened it before. It didn't really seem like it was meant to open, so I didn't want to force it. It popped open in gym class the other day, but nobody saw."

"But you knew you had... a panel."

"It's not like I've seen a lot of other people naked, up close. I just imagined there was some reason they didn't bring it up in health class, and so we shouldn't talk about it."

Joti took her fingers off my wires and gently closed the panel. It clicked shut.

"No wonder your cat thinks you're a dork," she said. "But I still like you."

You’d think I’d have gotten a big settlement with my parents getting killed like that. But everybody was so relieved about the end of WW3 they just forgot about it, so there wasn’t enough public attention to make it a big deal. It barely covers my tuition at Psyhigh, and the rest is in a trust for can’t access till I’m 21. 

And who knows how much doctors are going to cost to treat my condition? Or do I need electricians?

My cat won’t even acknowledge I exist anymore. She just practices her space moves and completely ignores me.

My parents were the only casualties of WW3.

It's a well known story. All those years ago when everything went nuts and the missles got launched overseas, most of them didn't even make it out of the silos. Those that were able to struggle into the upper atmosphere got picked off by previously undisclosed space-based counter measures.

Then, that one single missile made it through, and landed smack dab on my parent's bedroom. They were sleeping. The nuclear warhead didn't detonate, but even a dud ICBM can leave a crater.

I used to think I was just unlucky. But now, finding out that I'm nothing but wires inside, it makes me wonder if something else wasn't going on.

"Meowrrr?"

I'm explaining to my cat how a litter box is not going to work in space. Unless she's on one of those new fangled rotational stations. Or she gets a seat on an ever-accelerating generation ship, but what's she going to do? Win the Spacecat Lottery?

I think it's all just denial and avoidance of my "nothing but wires inside" diagnosis.

My cat is practicing her zero-g moves. She is determined to emigrate to space, and become a space cat.

She decided on this after learning that I was nothing but wires inside. She read the doctor's report.