You are a cat. As such, the world has obviously been put in place for your convenience. So why then, you ask yourself, do you find yourself locked up at the local SPCA after your latest caper? What could have possessed them to go look for you, trap you in a corner and stick you in a cage next to a bunch of lowlifes that clearly deserve to be here much more than you do? All you did was chase that rat along the ledge, after all. It wasn't your fault that that flowerpot stood where it did, and that the two-foot below walked past at that precise moment.

This will not stand. You and your fellow cats haven't been guiding two-footkind according to the principles the Great Idea for the last ten millennia, subtly influencing their minds to make the world more suitable for you, just to let it come to this. This is outrageous, and clearly not the way things were intended to be. Besides, that big hairydog in the bottom row just started snoring, and it's getting on your nerves.

You're getting out of here. As fast and as quietly as possible.

Childermas Atoll has been gradually eroding into the ocean, but Cyclone Hilda appears to have accelerated its demise. In the aftermath of the cyclone, there has been no contact from anyone on the island. Satellite pictures suggest that Stella Maris Mission and the Happy Squid processing complex are the only major buildings that survived the storm. An Emergency Response team was dispatched by seaplane from Auckland yesterday, but ceased transmitting en route.

Now you are on your way to Childermas. Your official role is to find and assist any survivors and clear the airfield so supplies and emergency personnel can be flown in. But as agents of a secret international taskforce, you are expecting trouble of a different kind.