The Pillow Campaign Begins

I want to be clear that I am not paranoid. I am observant.

When Container first began sleeping in my cabin she occupied the extreme foot of the bunk, a small compact loaf positioned roughly where my ankles end. That was the arrangement. That was, I believed, the treaty.

Last night I woke at 04:00 and she was level with my knees.

Tonight, when I turned in, she was already in place and level with my hip. She did not open her eyes. She did not acknowledge me. She simply lay there in the manner of a small furred occupying force that has taken ground and has no intention of giving it back.

I have started keeping notes. Not a chart, because a chart would be unhinged. Notes.

The direction of travel is unmistakable. Every night she is a little further up. At the current rate of advance she reaches the pillow inside a week, and at that point I will be sharing a single ship pillow with an animal that does not pay rent, does not knock, and enters my locked cabin by a method that remains completely unexplained.

I mentioned this at breakfast. Yuki said cats do this to be near your face because they trust you. Tiny said cats do this because the pillow is the warmest place and you are simply the heater. Big Kev said nothing and laughed for slightly too long.

Priya said, "she is doing what any sensible officer would do. Taking the high ground quietly, before anyone notices."

I noticed. I am watching.