29 August, 10:15
Düsseldorf, Germany

My flight leaves in two hours. I wish I did not have to be on it.

Last night I stayed in my room late into the evening, afraid to come out. I did not know what terrified me more: the fear that I was sick and hallucinating, or the fear that I was not.

I think I would have hidden there all night, except that around midnight some techno music started pounding through the floor from below. The convention always ends with a dance, something of an un-winding event for everyone. Through the window I could see people wandering across the courtyard toward the entrance, like rats drawn toward some techno pied piper. Then, among them, I caught a glimpse of a familiar shape prancing and bouncing excitedly through the doors.

In about ten seconds I was out of my room and down the stairs. I had to know.

I caught up with Kchierath on the dance floor. Under the wildly gyrating lights and dry ice fog he was cavorting about in a dance of primeval joy, his body slinking lithely and spinning and leaping, his ears swiveling in time to the beat. As I came up behind him he nearly bumped into me, let out a little squeak of surprise, and then purred and butted his cheek against mine. "Hal-lo!" he said cheerily. "You…will dance…with me, yes?"

I never was much of a dancer. Fortunately the DJ chose that moment to switch to a slower, more relaxed tune. Kchierath cuddled up against me like a contented housecat, his body rocking to and fro with the music. I could feel the hum of his purr and the tickle of his breath against my cheek. His tail swayed lazily along with his body. I tried to follow it, tried to see if I was crazy or not, but it never held still long enough. Taking a deep breath, I waited for that tail to swing high enough for me to catch it and hold it for a few seconds in my hand. When I did, even in the dim light I could see a tiny patch of missing fur on top, and a few little dots of dried blood where my heel had scraped at the flesh beneath.

He went rigid. The breath against my cheek stopped abruptly. In the dim light I could see the anguish in his big black eyes. He started to squirm away but I held my arms tightly around him. "Please," I whispered. "Don't."

I could feel him shivering, and he whimpered softly. His eyes darted around and then locked on mine. I saw that they were moist. I stared straight into them. "Listen," I said, being careful to keep my voice from cracking. "I just want to tell you how great a costumer you are. You make the character seem very real." I paused and then added, "And I promise never to tell anyone how you make the ears work."

Once again his breath caught. I just kept staring earnestly into his eyes until at last he relaxed and put his chin on my shoulder. "I…be-lieve," he whispered. "Thank…you."

I could not help myself: I kissed him on the nose. I really do not understand why I did it. "Please," I said to him, "just one question. Just one."

"Mrow?" he said and twitched an ear.

I said to him, "I have to know: what are you, really? Are you Gregor, or are you Kchierath?"

The slow song ended and the thud of a livelier beat brought a fresh crowd streaming onto the dance floor. He glanced around at them, then leaned his nose to my ear and whispered, "I told…you. When I Kchierath, I Kchierath. When…I Gregor, I Gregor. Now? Am Kchierath!"

He gave me a playful nip on the shoulder right on the downbeat of the music and then spun away, swishing his tail and motioning me to join him. We danced for hours, right up until the DJ was finally too exhausted to spin. The last thing I said to Kchierath was, "Will I be able to find you later?"

His ears dropped pensively, and then he giggled softly and touched a finger to the center of my chest. "No," he said. "No find. But…I find…you."

The next morning he was gone, along with most of the other conventiongoers. I found his room empty, the blanket neatly folded, the floor swept and the furniture tidy. The only thing out of place was a single little stuffed toy rat, left conspicuously in the center of the windowsill.

I plan to bring the rat with me when I return in the Fall, when the leaves are turning. It is good hunting weather, then. I have already bought a ticket using the money I earned at the convention. All I have to do now is make up some excuse to get extra time off of work.

I am not quite sure how he will do it. Germany is an old country, though, with old ways and old secrets. I have no doubt that Gregor will find me when I return.

If he does not, then I am certain that Kchierath will.