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Let's say it again: before 9/11 in the early twenty-first century, Aricans possessed a kind of mysterious confidence when it ca to aviation security. It wasn't total negligence—but "relaxed" would be an accurate description.
Katie was placed in a plastic crate flimsy enough for a Chihuahua to break, her paperwork attached as required. Without encountering any real trouble, Henry passed through customs smoothly and brought her aboard the plane.
Because it was a private jet, there was no dedicated cargo hold. And since there were very few passengers—just Henry and the plump butler, with the rest being flight crew—Henry didn't bother keeping Katie in the crate.
He simply let her out.
In that mont, Henry perfectly embodied the attitude of soone in power prioritizing his own convenience, indifferent to everyone else's comfort.
Explaining that, under his supervision, Katie would not do anything out of line would've been far more troubleso. So he didn't bother.
That said, he had carefully arranged feeding supplies and a designated area for her to relieve herself.
The flight from Los Angeles to Mumbai would take roughly twenty-four hours, including a refueling stop. Henry had no intention of spending that long in an enclosed cabin with untreated waste from a top-tier predator.
Training a large carnivore to relieve itself in a designated spot wasn't difficult—if you knew the right trick.
A few drops of urine from another large predator were enough. Territorial animals would instinctively mark over a rival's scent with their own.
After a few repetitions, Katie got used to using the sa spot. Easier to train than a toddler—or so adults.
When Henry first brought her out of the crate, Karan Patel nearly wet himself. The rest of the crew didn't fare much better.
The butler probably thought his several hundred pounds of flesh were about to be claid as today's al.
But Katie didn't even approach him. She sniffed once and walked away in visible disgust.
The reason was simple: he wore cologne.
The unfamiliar scent repelled her.
After placing Katie's raw at into the plane's refrigerated storage, Henry turned to Patel, whose nerves had just begun to settle.
"Mr. Patel, my pet tabby eats three als a day at fixed tis—just like a person.
"Each al requires ten to fifteen pounds of raw at. Blood included is preferable. Please ensure the at is clean and free of parasites. Can I rely on you for that?"
Realizing the tiger showed no intention of attacking him, Patel's tension gradually eased. That in itself was remarkable—this Indian butler had nerves of steel.
Inside the sealed cabin of a Gulfstream jet, unless soone was holding a loaded large-caliber rifle ready to fire, there was no such thing as a safe distance from a tiger.
If Katie lunged, no one in the cabin would escape. The cockpit crew might survive if they sealed the door fast enough. The passenger area, however, was far too small for anyone to outrun her.
Of course, with Henry present, he would never allow the tiger to harm anyone.
He lounged casually in his seat, legs resting across Katie's broad back. The "big cat" lay sprawled on the floor, lazily dozing.
At over 550 pounds, Katie spent most of her days eating and sleeping. Henry was beginning to think she needed so serious high-intensity exercise. Otherwise, she'd turn into a black-striped pig.
---
The twenty-four-hour flight wasn't difficult, largely thanks to the spacious private jet.
Henry moved about freely. Katie caused no incidents.
To the crew's surprise—including Patel—they gradually realized sothing astonishing:
The tiger could understand human speech.
Not fluently, of course. But basic commands? Yes.
Much like a well-trained dog.
And more impressively, Katie didn't rely solely on specific command words. She could interpret looser phrases as well.
"Move over."
"Excuse ."
"Let pass."
She'd shift her massive body aside accordingly.
This wasn't achieved through traditional conditioning.
It was thanks to the fifth-generation Tiger Language Translator attached to her ear.
Since the third generation, the device no longer required a central processing unit for massive data analysis. It could function offline for basic communication.
It translated human speech—currently limited to English in offline mode—into tiger-comprehensible vocalizations delivered via bone conduction, allowing Katie to "hear" without others noticing.
Conversely, Katie's thoughts and roars were translated back into human language.
That function, however, had been restricted by Henry.
The tiger-to-human output was converted into a high-frequency signal beyond normal human hearing range, with extrely low power and volu—audible only to Henry.
The reason? Battery life.
Though he had developed lightweight rechargeable lithium-iron batteries, endurance remained a bottleneck for all portable electronics.
Comfort was also critical.
The translator had to be small and unobtrusive, clipped to Katie's ear without causing irritation. If she felt discomfort, she'd find a way to remove it.
In that regard, she was harder to handle than a child.
Henry had once tried a brute-force approach: a helt version integrating a microcomputer for continued data collection and analysis.
It lasted three minutes.
Katie shook it off and flattened it like a pancake.
Comfort mattered.
If fixation were the only goal, Henry could secure sothing in place—short of surgically implanting it under her skin. But any slightly heavy device would be violently dislodged.
Tigers were far more agile than most people imagined.
Because the translator wasn't yet finalized, permanent implantation wasn't an option. After multiple redesigns, Henry eventually found a form factor Katie tolerated while preserving functionality.
The current external model balanced size, weight, and capability.
At this stage, Katie could understand basic English instructions.
Understanding, however, did not equal obedience.
Her compliance stemd from willingness—not coercion.
At ho, if the "big cat" refused to cooperate, Henry would simply give her a light kick.
Over ti, unless soone tried to take food from her bowl mid-al, Katie's cooperation rate was fairly high.
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The flight crew—including Patel—were gradually overco with curiosity.
Especially one particularly bold flight attendant.
They all wanted to pet the tiger.
If smartphones had already been ubiquitous, they'd be lining up for selfies.
Watching their awkward, heavy-handed attempts at stroking her fur, Henry knew that without his presence, this could easily turn into a fatal incident.
He monitored closely. The mont Katie showed signs of discomfort, he intervened.
Preventing her from harming anyone was Henry's bottom line.
But he had no intention of turning her into a plush toy either.
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For 40 advanced chapters, visit my Patreon:
Patreon - Twilight_scribe1
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