The Slug Inception Page 3

  Chapter 2 - The grand tour

  The Human

  So, we were back on Slugenis. And it was about time too! After our disappointing last visit, I was determined to make this one worthwhile. I actually wanted to have a good look at the place, not run around trying to rescue Phill because of a dumb misunderstanding.

  We were all belted into the scout ship, plummeting through the planet's atmosphere. As per usual, the ship was vibrating like a maniac (because maniacs are known for their vibrating) - I mean, who knew that having a billion air particles blasting past you at super-speed would cause such a stir?

  Anyway, aside from trying to stop my teeth from chattering out of my skull, I wondered what Slugenis would be like compared to the last time we were here. From what Matthew had said, it had been a long time since we were last there, perhaps long enough for the newest Slug King to have died already. I don't know, it seemed strange to me to have a royalty that was constantly dying all the time. Kind of annoying, too.

  Apart from that, however, I didn't imagine that the Slug homeworld would be very different from last time. I mean, the Slugs had been around in their current civilisation for over ten thousand years, so I'd think that any major changes would've already happened long ago. So I guessed that we'd be back on one of those pitch-black carriages before too long.

  After some time of this, the shaking ship ceased its shaking, and returned to being an ordinary ship.

  "It looks like we've landed", I said.

  "You mean it feels like", Carmen corrected me. "You can't see from here."

  "He can see that the vibrations have stopped", Phill corrected her.

  "Hah!" I bragged. The loser didn't reply.

  Boy got up and came over to untie me as Phill untied himself. "How is it", the Cyborg asked, "that you still cannot get yourself out of your own protective restraints?"

  "It's harder than it looks!" I quickly defended myself.

  "I know how hard it is", he told me, "and it is not much harder than it looks."

  "Obviously", Boy input, "Ethan views it to be easier than you do, so to him it is harder than it looks, but to you it isn't."

  After a short pause, Phill conceded, "That may be correct."

  "Not as correct as me", Matthew said, "when I say hurry it up."

  "A request cannot be labelled as 'correct' or 'incorrect' ", Phill commented, but he hurried up all the same.

  When we were all ready, we lined up at the double door that would open up to the outside world (the outside world being Slugenis, in this case), and waited for someone to open it.

  "Umm", I said. "Someone gonna open this?"

  "I'm too lazy", Matt complained. "Boy, you do it."

  "What if I'm lazy too?" Boy replied. "Frank flew the ship most of the way, he can do it."

  "If I could open the door, we'd be outside by now", Phill said.

  "Fine, I'll do it", Frank said, probably just to shut everyone up. He went back to a dish, put his hand on the spike inside it, and the door opened. As he rejoined us, we all started to file into the small compartment between the interior and exterior door, and from there out of the ship.

  I emerged into the very same spaceport that we'd landed in last time. Much to my disappointment, it was still purple. In fact, I'd had a sneaking suspicion for some time now that perhaps there was some underlying reason behind this gross prejudice to all non-violet colours, and intended to ask Matthew about it at some point. But not now. Now was Slugenis time.

  I wanted to shout 'We're back!' at the top of my voice, but I was kind of embarrassed since the place was packed with Slugs. And yes, I know that was a dumb feeling since they were all deaf, but it's not like you can control these kinds of feelings. Sometimes your brain just does stuff and doesn't give a damn about what you think.

  So I just said to my friends, "We're back."

  "Yes we are", Matt said in a strange voice as he looked about himself.

  There was a short pause as we all came to terms with where we were and what we were about to attempt. Well, I probably wasn't going to do much, as least physically. Of course, you should never underestimate the power of moral support.

  Looking around, I took in the sights of all of the Slugs, packed into this spaceport. As usual, they were all in the Slug basic form, which was a no-legged, three-armed one-headed form. And yes, I know that that was an incredibly alien look; I think they might've even done it one purpose, for the sole reason of looking alien.

  "So", Boy tried to break the ice. "Onto our first mission."

  " 'Mission' ", I scoffed. "This isn't enemy territory where we need to assassinate someone. We're just friendly visitors, or returning countrymen. We're going to our first pit-stop."

  "I'm a returning countrywoman", Rosetta told me, "if you go by my human appearance."

  "It's just a word", Matt told her. "It makes things easier, no need to get all offended over it."

  "Perhaps the word should have initially been created using an all-encompassing term to avoid this dilemma", Phill suggested.

  I sighed. "Alright, returning countrypeople. See, how weird does that sound?"

  "All words begin sounding weird", the Cyborg told me.

  "Yeah", Boy laughed, "like Rabadootime!"

  Matthew shot him a grinning look, but I kind of agreed. Rabadootime's name was at first weird, annoyingly long, and utterly nonsensical, but now... I don't know. It had kind of grown on me. I couldn't imagine calling the Cyborg anything else.

  "Well", Frank tried to steer us back on track, "we'd better head over to the carriage station if we're to go and see the Slug King."

  We started walking in the same direction that we had the last time we were here. Even though we hadn't been to Slugenis in like fifty years (even though Matt kept insisting that my calculations were wrong), for us, it had only been about several months. And most of the time was spent on a spaceship, where the only thing you could do was reminisce about the past.

  No one was saying anything as we travelled, and I was about to mindlessly talk about rabble until somebody plucked a real conversation out of my nonsense, when Matthew suddenly stopped.

  As he was on my side, I turned around to see him, now behind me, with a completely shocked expression on his face. Rather than ask what was going on, Boy quickly walked up to him and grabbed his hand. After a second, he looked in the same direction Matthew was looking, and assumed an equally shocked expression.

  Now that my super-intelligent mind had grasped the concept, I too looked in the direction that they were looking. And I saw a group of four Slugs that were formed exactly like humans, with hair, clothes, and everything. They'd gone the whole way with it.

  "Wow", I said. "What's the deal with that?"

  "Let's go and find out", Matthew said, grinning, his usual good-natured manner already returned.

  As we got closer to them, Phill mused, "This is strange. The only hypothesis I can think of is the Slugs are preparing for some trip to Earth where they will imitate the human form."

  "Strange indeed", Boy murmured as we kept walking.

  Once we were at a closer distance, close enough for the four Slugs to notice us and turn towards us, Matthew and Boy stopped again. Once Rosetta, Carmen, and Frank had caught up to them (as they were behind them before) they too stopped, meaning that all of our Slugs were stopped and staring at the four Slugs.

  "I get the feeling that something important is going on here", I said uneasily.

  "You got that right", Matt responded. "Something quite important indeed, that we didn't really foresee. Although, in hindsight, it was kind of obvious and we totally should have foreseen it. But we didn't."

  "What is it?" asked Phill, impatient.

  Matthew only gave a huge smile in response, so it was left to Boy to answer the question. "Those are not four Slugs that have taken the form of humans. Those are four humans."

  The Slug

  'Wait', Ethan almost coughed. 'What?'

  'How can you tell?' asked
Phill.

  'Come on', I urged them, impatient to find out what was going on. 'Let's go and meet our guests.'

  As we travelled towards them, and they towards us, Phill said, 'They are not "our" guests, as Ethan and I do not live on Slugenis.'

  'Most Slugs don't', Boy told him.

  Before he could reply, we had reached the Humans. 'Hello', one of them, a guy, said. 'I don't believe we've met. I must point out that you've taken a Human shape, which is forbidden by the terms of the arrangement.'

  'Say what?' asked Ethan, astonished.

  I pointed at him in mock rage. 'I'll be asking the questions around here! Now you tell me what you're doing on Slugenis! Did Pauline agree to this?'

  'How would you know Pauline?' a woman of the group asked, now her turn to be astonished. I thought Ethan did a better job of being astonished, however. He seemed to put more effort, more heart, into the action.

  'We're old friends', Boy explained our relationship with the Human biologist, although those simple words didn't begin to describe it adequately. And if they didn't even begin to describe it, then that means they weren't a description at all, since even a poor description is the beginning of a description.

  'Were you some of the initial Slugs to Earth?' the first Human asked again.

  'It's a bit more complicated than that', Ethan said. 'I'm actually a Human, Phill here is a Cyborg, and the other five are Frank, Boy, Matthew, Carmen, and Rosetta', he finished, as he pointed to each of us in turn. I took great offence that he didn't save me for last, as the final reveal.

  A shocked look came over all the Human's faces. 'Oh!' the other woman gasped. 'The originals!'

  'Pffft', I scoffed. 'That's what we're called? The originals?'

  'I don't mind it', Ethan shrugged.

  'Whatever the case', Rosetta said, 'it's not going to change now that it's been set. So, Humans.' She turned to them. 'Tell us what is going on here. We haven't been to Slugenis in a long time. The last we knew, the Slugs and Humans had just began trading.'

  'Oh, well you've missed out on a lot then', the fourth Human, a male, now said, after regaining his composure, having lost it due to the sudden realisation of our awesomeness, us being awesome because we simply were. 'The first trading began many years ago, before our time. Our two races are now in a full trading alliance, with goods and technology constantly being ferried between Earth and Slugenis.'

  Another piped in, 'We're part of a small group of Human ambassadors to the Slugs, sent here to live on Slugenis for terms of five years each. We're the fourth group of ambassadors since the program started.'

  'Hey, Ethan', I nudged him. 'Remember when I told you a while ago that we were going to be the ambassadors for the Humans? Well now these people are! They stole our job!' He gave me a funny look, which only provoked me further. 'What, are you going to let them get away with it? We need to fight for our rights here! For our livelihoods!'

  Nobody said anything, which meant that I'd achieved my objective. 'Never mind him', Carmen said to the Humans. My feelings would've been hurt if I didn't deserve it. Which means that my feelings weren't hurt. Because I did deserve it.

  'How many Humans are part of this group?' asked Boy.

  'Eight', one of the job-thieves replied. 'We usually go out in groups of about four to walk about Slugapital and get away from the negotiations and work. We... find your planet and lifestyle fascinating, and a comprehensive knowledge of the ordinary Slug's life helps us to understand your people better.'

  'That's one way to think about it', I said. 'Although I am glad to see that all of my names have not been overridden by more sensible ones.'

  'We didn't wish to cause any offence', one of the women told me. As if I'd be offended by that. At least, I don't think I would; I'd never know if I would until it actually happened. But I imagine that I wouldn't be offended by it. She continued, "Plus, attempts to scientifically classify your species have been... problematic." Hah - they'd better not forget it.

  'Do you know who I am?' Phill asked them.

  'You're Phill, the Cyborg', the first man replied.

  'Are you afraid of me?'

  'No. Why should we be? The whole Earth knows that you are the only Cyborg in existence who is completely friendly with us.'

  'Remarkable', Phill said, almost softly. I had no idea what he was talking about, and from the way he didn't explain it, he probably didn't want me to know. I'd have to wring it out of him later.

  'OK then', I said as I clapped my hands. 'It's time for business. We're off to see the Slug King for some important matters. Care to come along? He'll hopefully value your input.'

  'Certainly', one said, and they fell into step with us as we headed towards the carriage station, which was right next door to the spaceport. In fact, one could even say that they were the same building, as they were completely connected. One could also say, however, that neither of them were buildings, as neither of them had a roof. It all depends on the one who is doing the saying.

  Ethan tried to strike up a conversation with one of the men, as he was prone to do. Before we knew it, every one of us would be participating in their discussion; that's what tended to happen whenever Ethan wanted to talk to someone. 'So what's it like living on an alien planet?'

  'Surely you would know', the Human replied. 'You've been with the Slugs for much longer than us.'

  'Yeah, but most of that was during space travels', Ethan complained, 'so it doesn't really count. We barely spent any time on Slugenis, and we didn't do much during that time but correct some misunderstandings.'

  I almost choked after hearing him label my race's unjustified and inexcusable capture of Phill as a "misunderstanding". Since it was quite difficult for a Slug to choke at all, this was a measure of what an understatement that was.

  'Well then', the man said, 'I suppose I've been on this planet longer than you. We're in our third year now, although of course the accuracy of our timekeeping is entirely dependent upon the clocks that we brought with us; as you probably know, the Slugs keep a very different measure of time which is not available to us.'

  'Measures of time', Phill seemed to mutter, but it didn't make any sense. At least, not to me; perhaps Carmen or someone saw some deep, intuitive meaning in it.

  'Don't I know it', Ethan said back to the ambassador. 'Most of what the Slugs do is un-interpretable to me.'

  The man laughed at this. 'It seems so at first, but once you get to know them they're quite a predictable, organised people.'

  'I guess so', Ethan replied.

  Phill added, 'To me, most of the actions of organics lack any sense of logic or predictability. It is all quite annoying, and can waste much time in fruitless considerations of your possible motivations.'

  Now the other man laughed. Feeling like it was an infectious laugh, I joined in loudly, but he just gave me a strange look.

  Meanwhile, we arrived at the place where all the empty carriages were kept in their endless cycle of picking up and transporting passengers and then coming back here, empty, to join the back of the queue. Kind of a boring, empty life, I would think. But, then again, it's not like carriages would think the same way about how interesting their lives were as I do. Perhaps they got some kind of kick out of it.

  'I got bad news', I said to our group. 'The biggest carriages can only fit eight Slugs, maybe a couple more if we squeezed in. But all eleven of us won't fit.'

  'That's fine', one of the women said. 'We'll take a separate smaller one, although we'll need one of you to direct it for us.'

  'How did you get here on your own?' asked Frank.

  'Our lodgings are nearby', she answered. 'We walked down here.'

  From what I knew of the old Slugenis, there were no lodgings near a spaceport or carriage station, so they either walked a long way, Slugenis had unlikely changed, or the Humans got royal treatment. Damn Humans, expecting to get royal treatment all the time.

  'I'll go with you', Rosetta volunteered. 'I've got some questions to as
k you about... religion.' She shot a look at Ethan, who sighed and shook his head. I wondered what that was all about.

  'Very well', Boy said. 'We'll see you there, Rosetta.'

  'Cya', Ethan told her, and he stepped through the open doors of one of the large carriages at the front of the queue of several lines of waiting carriages. I followed him in and got into one of the dishes.

  'Here we go', I said as everyone got in, and thought of the Slug King's dwellings. I sent that signal down to the spike which was now inserted in my body, and the spike converted the electrical brain signal into a binary computer code and sent it to the carriage's on board computer. Once the route was calculated - which was pretty quickly, of course - the doors closed and the carriage took off at the required speed.

  'This place is still scary', Ethan whined.

  'Oh come off it', I told him. 'Think of it like an amusement park ride. Then it'll be fun!'

  'I've never been to an amusement park!' he cried.

  'Oh then', I amended. 'Then you're most likely going to die.'

  When he didn't reply, Phill said, 'Don't worry. You won't die.'

  'Yeah, I knew that, Phill', he said back.

  'Well then you should have...'

  'Hold on everyone', Boy said from next to me. 'I'm getting signals here from the Slug King.'

  'You can talk to him from here?' asked Ethan, his fear momentarily forgotten. Although I was sure it'd be back; such was the nature of these momentary things.

  'Yes', Boy said, 'from the spike in my dish. And he has something important to discuss with us. From what I can gather, I think that our mission here is going to be much easier than we thought.'

  As we all paused to consider the favourablilityness of this, Phill said in his superior corrective tone, 'As Ethan said, we are not on a mission here. We are simply going to a pit-stop.'

  The Human

  After we'd gotten out of the carriage (me praising God that I was still alive), we met up with the other one which had stopped right next to ours. After everyone was out, the two carriages shot off down the track, empty, to do whatever it is that carriages do when they're empty. One of these days I was gonna find out exactly how that whole system worked. But not today, it seemed.

  We were outside the Slug King's house, the exact same building as the one we were at last time. "Why is this the same place?" I asked.

  "Slugenis technically has two capital cities", Matthew explained. "They are on opposite poles of Slugenis, and are more or less pretty similar." He gave a thoughtful look. "On second thought, go for 'less' instead. When I said 'more or less', I meant 'less'. Because while they have the same basic design, they're still pretty different. You follow?"

  I dumbly nodded, so he continued. "So the Slug King always resides in either of these two cities, and whichever he is in, that is the official capital of the planet, and earns the honourable name of Slugapital. It just so happens that the last couple of Kings have been in the northern city, where we are now, so they always end up in this house here. If one were in the southern city, that would obviously be in a different house."

  "Unless they transported the same house between poles and cities", Phill commented.

  "Why would they do that?" asked Boy.

  Phill looked at him. "It wouldn't be the first time organics did something irrational."

  "Perhaps not", Matthew shrugged after a brief pause. "But in any case, let's move in."

  As we moved towards the building, I observed the four ambassadors exchanging glances at the route that our conversation took. Well, they'd better get used to it if they planned to spend any time around us.

  As Matt strolled up to the door and shoved his hand onto the spike that protruded out of the wall just beside it, I took a look at our new human friends. They didn't seem to be at all shocked by this grisly display, so they must be used to it by now. Which I guess they would be, having lived on Slugenis for three years. But did they know why the Slugs needed to do that? I knew it was pretty freaky for me before I was told.

  The door opened, and we all shuffled in and around the large, inverted pyramid that extended from the entire roof down to a pipe leading under the ground. It was transparent, to allow light through, and was used as a rain catchment device. Although I'd never actually seen it rain on Slugenis, I hadn't been on the planet for very long. I wondered if it'd be any different to Earth's rain. Probably, given the abysmal state of the planet's clouds compared to my home planet's.

  "Greetings, your kingliness", Matthew grandly greeting the Slug King. Looking at him, I saw that he was huge, made up of a large amount of slime that seemed more than enough to fill the large dish made specifically for the King.

  Matthew's greeting was wasted, however, since normal Slugs are deaf - or so I thought. "Greetings", the King responded, in a voice that was not quite dead and lifeless, but sure tried its hardest to be.

  "He talks!" I exclaimed. "That's new."

  "Humans have been on Slugenis for years", Phill told me. "It should have been obvious that they would impart their communication knowledge to the Slugs."

  I didn't reply to that, primarily because he was probably right. "We have some important matters to discuss with you", Frank told the King. From what I knew of Slugs, only the oldest one of us, Matthew, should be the one directly communicating with the King. However, it seemed that none of the old ways and rules applied to our little band, and I was pretty sure that that was a good thing.

  "You wish to arrange a peace with the Cyborgs", the King said in his slight-amount-of-emotion voice. Ah, so that must've been what Boy meant when he said that convincing the King wouldn't be so hard, since he already knew our plan.

  There was a shocked pause, before Matthew said triumphantly, "Aha! Even my name of Cyborgs stuck! Imagine if we had to change it because the whole Slugenis picked a different name, to something like 'robots' or 'machines'. Ugh."

  "I prefer Cyborg", Phill stated. I agreed, but I think it had more to do with being used to it than anything else.

  "Yes we do", Boy told the King. "You received our report from the Cyborg Archives?"

  "We did", one of the human women told us. "The eight of us helped to consult the Slug King on humanity's viewpoint of the matter."

  Matthew eyed her warily. "And humanity's viewpoint is?"

  "To stop the conflict at all costs, of course", she replied easily.

  "Good", he replied, relieved. Then, back to the King, "So, what do you reckon? You know everything that we do. Have you come to the same conclusion as the rest of us?"

  The Slug King looked at him for a few moments, and we all waited breathlessly. Well, maybe most of us did, but I bet that the five of us humans were breathing normally enough. You know, cause we'd kind of suffocate if we stopped.

  Finally, the King replied with, "We must discuss some issues before such an action is to be seriously considered."

  Matthew breathed out. "Better than nothing. Well, then, let the discussions begin! I've already formulated an excellent plan - excellent in my opinion, that is - that I have to tell you. It's all going to be rather exciting." He turned around to look at us. "Umm, it'll be much easier and faster if I use Slug communication at first. Don't worry, I'll tell you guys all about it later. Until then, Boy, how about you give Ethan the grand tour of Slugenis like he always wanted?"

  "Certainly", Boy replied, and began leading me out. Yep, he definitely knew what Matthew's plan was.

  Matt asked one of the ambassadors, "Do you guys have like a travelling pack or something? For Ethan to use, that is."

  "Sure do", one of the women replied, and picked up a backpack that was in a pile of three in the room's corner. After handing it to me, she said, "We keep several spares in our most common places, for situations like this where we need one at short notice."

  "Cool, thanks", I told her, putting the bag on. It seemed to be full of small items, hopefully solid gold.

  "I shall accompany you", Phill said, and moved towards Boy and
I.

  "Won't we need you here?" one of the men asked Phill. "To prove your nature to the King?"

  "The rest of us already know his nature", Matthew told him, "and can vouch for him. He can go. Anyone else wish to join them?"

  "I don't need any tour of Slugenis", Carmen said, "but I'll go anyway. To keep them company."

  "We already have company", Phill told her, but not in a way that seemed averse to her joining us.

  "As for the rest of you", Matt said to the four ambassadors, Frank, and Rosetta, "we have a lot of work to get through. Can I get a chair in here or something?" The Slug King just looked at him. "I guess not", he mumbled. "Anyway, I'll first go through my initial plan, and then we can refine..."

  The door of the King's house closed, shutting us outside and away from his voice. "You already know that plan, don't you?" I accused Boy and Carmen. "That's why you don't mind not hearing it. I bet it was Matthew's idea to keep me in the dark for as long as possible!"

  "I know some partial bits of it", Boy said. I noticed how he didn't make any comment on my second accusation.

  "I know nothing", Phill told me. "However, what is known by them is in an unrefined state, and is likely to go through several alterations before emerging as the correct information. Right now, you and I have other things to learn that are already in this state."

  After I thought a bit about this, I finally got what he was trying to say. And it was almost right. "Alrighty then", I said. "Let's go! Where's our first stop?"

  Boy turned to look at me and smiled. "The Slug breeding facility."

  Great.

  The Cyborg

  Our group elected to walk the majority of the way to the area Boy termed the 'Slug breeding facility', so as to give Ethan more time to take in the sights of the planet. It seemed a pointless task to me; the majority of Slugenis, at least at this section, was remarkably similar to everywhere else we'd been. It seemed that it would be difficult for organics to find their way around such a place, without the constant network connection employed by Cyborgs to keep track of their present locations, but I imagined that the Slugs had their ways.

  From what I knew of Humans and Earth culture, they employed a method known as 'signs', visual pictures and symbols on large boards intended to guide the viewer's perception of their location and possible destinations. This seemed a fallible method, however, as every Human who passes such a sign could not be expected to be actively looking in that sign's direction, or be expected to be able to interpret the pictures and symbols. In addition, not every traveller has an exact destination in mind. I therefore concluded that the Cyborg's method of every Cyborg being in constant contact with a planet-wide locational server was superior to that of signs.

  "Oh, thank god they put water in here", Ethan exclaimed as he rummaged through the wearable container that one of the Humans had given him. "I can get really thirsty in this place."

  "What else is there?" asked Carmen, obviously curious as to the Humans' extent of foresight.

  "There's a sunhat", Ethan began, but he was already engaging in irrelevant speech, as he was currently wearing the mentioned sunhat. "There's also some sunblock, which I'll put on in a second, sunglasses, 3 bottles of water, a small face towel, lots of different kinds of food bars, and an empty smaller pouch."

  "Tell me", Boy asked him, "what is sunblock for?"

  "From what I understand", I told him, "it is to account for a Human weakness. Apparently their skin and eyes can get damaged from too much exposure to sunlight, which would normally cause one to assume that they are nocturnal creatures. Yet they are not."

  "That's not the whole story!" Ethan complained at my explanation as he started to apply the lotion to his exposed skin. "We do need sunlight, but too much of it can be harmful, even if the sun's low in the sky like it is here. And if you know that you're going to spend a lot of time out in a hot sun, you should wear sunblock to protect yourself from the damage."

  "Every sun is hot", I commented, but no one seemed to pay any attention to my correct statement.

  "Strange", said Boy. "I don't know if slime suffers any ill-effects from sun exposure, but even if it did, the slime would shed before any noticeable harm was done. Doesn't your skin shed as well?"

  "Yeah", Ethan shrugged, "but that doesn't stop sunburn."

  There was no reply to this, so we continued walking towards our goal. "How much further to go?" asked the Human.

  "Some way", replied Boy, although this did not constitute a satisfactory answer.

  "Aren't you going to drink anything?" Carmen asked Ethan.

  "Nah", the Human replied. "I'm a bit thirsty, but I don't want to drink too much, otherwise I'll need to go to the toilet. I don't know if Matthew has had it brought off the ship yet."

  "Fortunately, Cyborgs do not create any biological waste", I told him in an imitation of a mocking manner.

  "Perhaps not", he said back. "But you have an excuse, not being biological and all. But what about you guys?!" he pointed to Boy and Carmen in an accusatory manner. "I've never seen any Slug have to use a toilet before, or do anything like that. So how does that work?"

  Carmen deigned to explain to him. "We do create waste, but we remove it in a different way than you", she began. "Because we are constantly shedding slime cells from our outer body, this makes a convenient way for us to remove unwanted things from our systems."

  "Such as excess heat", Boy added.

  "Exactly", Carmen continued. "You remember how we told you that there are some functions that our bodies do naturally, without any input from us?"

  "Yeah", Ethan said.

  "Well the same thing happens to our biological waste. Small amounts of this waste is created within every cell, as that cell undergoes the chemical processes to convert our food into energy. Our slime cells are also capable of absorbing and transferring this waste to adjacent slime cells. So, when a particular cell gets to a certain level of waste that our body deems to be enough, it automatically transfers this waste to the slime cell closest to our exterior. When that cell gets too full of waste, it repeats the process.

  "The effect of this is that all the waste in our body is constantly being transferred towards our outer slime, which eventually sheds it all away, meaning that it has left our body. There's no need for any manual input from us into this system, as it all happens naturally without any conscious effort, although I'm sure that Matthew could change how it works if he wanted to."

  "Are you saying", Ethan said in a shocked voice, "that every time I touch one of you, I'm touching Slug faeces?"

  "Typical Human", I told him. "Once again, you are trying to apply your Human understanding of biological waste to the Slugs' biological waste, when such a comparison cannot be made."

  I neglected to add my critique of the Human culture surrounding their own processes; it seemed that they viewed their own waste as dirty and unclean, and as something to be avoided and removed immediately. Of course, this made little sense; biological waste is an important process of an organic form, and can have many different uses. To perceive it in such a negative light is not only untrue, but it means that these uses will never be utilised.

  "Well then, what about you?" Ethan asked me defiantly. "Don't you have any kind of waste? Non-biological, that is."

  "Yes", I answered, and then began to describe my answer more fully so as to aid in both his and the Slugs' comprehension. "You may recall that I once told you that all Cyborgs use an internal reactor as a main energy source, similar to your nuclear reactors. While this provides us with the majority of our energy requirements, it creates waste in the form of solid radioactive materials. Our reactor designs are much more efficient than yours - at least at Humanity's level of technology while I was imprisoned there - but some amount of this waste is still created.

  "If it is not disposed of properly, the radiation from this solid can disrupt our network connections or perhaps even our CPU functions, if the problem sufficiently builds up. Near our reactors, the
re is a container that is sealed against radiation. This can hold an amount of waste while we search for a place to eject them from our bodies. Standard Cyborg custom is to collect a large amount of waste from many individuals, and fire them all into a star. Such is the normal procedure when in Cyborg space."

  "What about when you were in that cave?" Carmen asked me. "What did you do with it then?"

  "As you know", I continued, "I had no place to store the solid there, and my sealed container cannot hold 20 years' worth of waste. My whole body was also incapacitated by the thick cables Matthew had used to restrain me, so I couldn't throw it away from me."

  I paused to observe my listeners, and noticed that while each of them was silent, patiently awaiting the completion of my explanation, it was Ethan who showed the most interest. He was actively looking at me with an awed expression on his features, and he appeared to be rapt in my speech, not paying attention to any of his surroundings. I now understood why this was one of the reasons that Matthew liked him so much; his thirst for all non-Human knowledge made giving explanations and descriptions enjoyable.

  At a non-verbal prod from Ethan, I went on. "In order to dispose of this radioactive waste while in the cave, I needed to expel the solid in small pieces, not large ones. As my back was pressed against the rock formation's wall, that wall was heavily cracked, and my waste expeller is on my back, this afforded me a convenient method to accomplish my objective.

  "So, slowly and over time, I ejected tiny portions of my waste into the cracks of the rock. As I could only fit small pieces of the solid into the cracks, this was a continuous, on-going procedure that I had to perform frequently. By the time I was ready to add more waste to the cracks, the previous pieces had already seeped and sunk deeper down into the rock. This allowed me to continually remove my waste without allowing the radiation to build up to dangerous levels."

  There was a long pause which I estimated to last for 3 seconds, before Ethan said, "Wow."

  "Wow is right", Boy confirmed the Human's statement.

  Ethan then said, "So, even while you were trapped, unable to move at all, you were still doing your best to preserve your life? Because you could've easily killed yourself."

  "I suppose so", I told him, and chose not to verbalise my next thoughts.

  Strange; I had never processed my past actions in the light that Ethan proposed before. From the very beginning of my capture, the continuation of my life was imperative to me. This much was evident. The question that remained was, are all Cyborgs like this? Or was there something incorrect with me previously for me to have done such a thing?

  This could present a fundamental flaw with our current long-term plan; if not every Cyborg would have tried to go on living as I had then, then perhaps not every Cyborg could turn out like me, to tolerate and then accept the presence and then friendship of organics.

  While I knew that this may turn out to be a problem, all I could process at that moment was pity; pity for all of those hypothetical Cyborgs, which would be missing out on a life that was, on average, a positive experience.

  The Slug

  I was doing my best, I surely was. It wasn't hard, but it wasn't particularly easy either, since I had to carefully control what I was sending. It wasn't exactly manipulation... just presenting one side of the truth. There's a difference. A small one, perhaps, but one nonetheless.

  I was in contact with the Slug King, with Frank and Rosetta patiently waiting for me to finish. The four ambassadors were here, and the other four had also arrived recently, probably from a signal that the King had sent to be relayed to wherever they lived. So there was now eight Humans in the room, four males and four females. It seemed that gender equality was a big thing back on Earth - lucky we Slugs don't have that problem.

  While the two Slugs were sitting silently in contact with each other, every one of the Humans was fidgeting in some way. It seemed they were bored or something; oh well. They'll have to wait a bit longer. Damn Humans, always wanting something exciting to happen.

  What I was sending to the King was this: after giving him extensive information on the impact of a common language to Slug-Cyborg encounters and relations, I was showing him all the good times that every one of us had had with Phill, trying to convince him that Cyborgs were capable of being good individuals and even greater friends. That was the part that wasn't hard.

  I was also doing my best to not show all the bad things associated with Phill. Not that there were many, of course. Back at our defence of Earth, I'd once thought that he'd betrayed us to the Cyborgs, and was intent upon killing him. Even though that situation was resolved, I didn't want the King to know that I'd ever doubted Phill's loyalty.

  I was also trying very hard to not let the Slug King know how much of a friend Phill was; so much so, that I'd choose his life over my entire Empire if the choice should ever arise. My entire Empire. In fact, I almost did make that choice when he was captured the last time we came to Slugenis. I couldn't have my recipient know that my loyalty to our people had grown very thin - even if I greatly valued its existence, I felt no real connection to it anymore. That was the bit that wasn't particularly easy.

  Just as I was finished giving him examples of all the invaluable information that Phill had given us, to the detriment of the Cyborg race's chances in this war, the King sent me a message to stop.

  He didn't send me anything for some time afterwards, just a simple stream to acknowledge our connection and establish his identity, an electrical signal constantly being sent in all Slug communications when the participants are not actively communicating.

  And now, for a moral dilemma: I can use my special abilities to read snatches of what the King of my species was thinking, but I didn't know if I should. It was a difficult art, this ability, one that can only be performed by one with extreme control over every detail of their slime. As far as I knew, only I could do it, and even if someone else could, it is impossible to detect another person doing it, since what happens to a brain communication signal once it enters another's body cannot be known by the sender.

  The power arises because no matter how hard you concentrate, perhaps even including me, when you send a Slug communication, the signal contains small amounts of other signals about whatever you are thinking at the time you are sending it. In terms of the electrical signal that these messages are sent as, the main communication subject is a powerful signal, while these background signals are very weak.

  They can be read by the skilful and precise manipulation of slime cells. By very carefully altering the electrical conductivity of various cells, and having a strong mental image of one's own slime, brain, and incoming signals, one can direct only the strongest electrical signals away from their usual path towards one's brain. By very slightly increasing the conductivity of surrounding cells, the strongest messages are diverted along that path. The background signals, however, are not affected by so weak a difference in conductivity, due to that signal's relative weakness, and so are not diverted.

  Once the strongest, primary signals are taken along a different path within the Slug's body, the weakest background signals stay on their original path, entering the brain without the primary message to override them. As they are the only signals entering the brain at the point, they can be easily interpreted despite their weakness. Once those are read, the primary signal can then diverted back to the brain, and then read as normal.

  Of course, this means that that particular Slug must take in information at twice the usual rate, as both background signals and primary signals are coming into their body from the sending Slug at the same time. They must also be careful not to let the other Slug know that they know things they are not supposed to know.

  In short, it's quite interesting. It would be fun to see me trying to read someone like me, who was simultaneously trying to read me the way that I can read. That would be very fun. Unfortunately, I don't think the universe has yet spawned anyone as awesome as me. A shame, really.

&nb
sp; Back to the dilemma though. The Slug King remained silent. I could divert his primary acknowledgement and identification signals, and get to the weakest background ones which contain pinches of his current thoughts. I knew I could, but the question was whether or not I should.

  Luckily, it didn't require much thought. All of my friends wanted a peace between the Slugs and Cyborgs. I wanted what my friends wanted, and I would grant it over what my Empire wanted. It was nothing personal against the King; but if reading him would help further the goals of my group, I would do it, no matter who he was.

  Besides, I didn't know if any other Slug even knew about this thing I could do. The only person I'd ever told was Ethan, and I'm pretty sure he hadn't understood the full significance of it. I hadn't told anyone else because I didn't want all of my friends to be afraid of communicating with me, simply due to fear of what I might read from them. Of course, I never used my technique on other Slugs unless the situation direly called for it. And the situation called for it now, even if it wasn't exactly dire.

  So I began to concentrate to read the King. It was much easier than usual, for I could effectively ignore his primary signals, and I wasn't actively communicating anything to him, save for my own acknowledgement and identification signals. His background messages were as easy to access as reading an upside-down book. And I've read an upside-down book before, so I know it's not too difficult.

  What I found was remarkable. He agreed with me, with what I was saying, with what I was trying to persuade him of. He actually agreed! Although he wasn't explicitly thinking it, I had a feeling that the volleys of Human ambassadors that Earth had launched at Slugenis had a big influence on his thoughts. Humans tended to have that effect.

  The only problem was that he couldn't see a way to actually go about starting this peace, a way to initiate our race's transformation. Well, I had a way to fix that. Stage one was to get him to realise the very real possibility of a peace, rather than just acknowledge that it would be vaguely beneficial. My excellent plan was stage two, a way to try and achieve this peace, or, at the very least, to achieve a non-hostile ceasefire.

  Before he could tell me any of this, at least purposely, I let go of him, breaking our communication channel.

  'Friends', I announced to the room, causing the three Slugs and eight Humans to look at me attentively. 'I know that you must have some trepidation about how we can possibly achieve a peace with the Cyborgs.' Now, trepidation is definitely a cool word. Sometimes I really love those Human language-constructors. That should be a job of high social esteem.

  Carrying on, I said, 'However, rest assured that I have a plan. An excellent plan too, or so I flatter myself. Now, listen up, because it's a bit complicated and a bit risky. Perhaps more risky than complicated, but don't think too much about that for now, otherwise we'll never get anywhere here.'

  The Human

  "We're here", Boy announced to Carmen, Phill and myself.

  "It's about time", I nearly panted. I had plenty of water, true, but that didn't mean that walking in the slowly increasing heat was any easier. We must have arrived some time in Slugenis' morning, and now it was approaching the heat of midday. The sun might've risen very slightly, but I couldn't be sure if I was just imagining it.

  "This is quite a big facility", Phill remarked.

  "It has to be", Boy told him. "There are only two of them on the whole planet, the other one being at Slugenis' southern pole. Between them, they have to produce enough Slugs to service not only Slugenis, but also the surrounding worlds."

  "Why have only two of them?" I asked.

  "I believe you humans are aware of the concept of economies of scale", Phill said. I'd heard that phrase somewhere before, but had no idea what it meant.

  "Not only that", Boy added, assuming that I knew what Phill was talking about, "it allows for much easier coordination for our breeding purposes. But that is a topic for another time. We'll have enough to talk about here."

  "Sounds fun", I said glumly, and followed him as he led us up to the building, while trying not to think about test tube Slug babies. Ugh.

  Alright, first things first - the building was huge. Second things second - it looked pretty much the same as a usual Slug building, just much larger. And that pretty much summed it up. It was a big purple box, although this time around the colour appeared to be a slightly different shade than I was used to. Or maybe my brain was just clamouring for some variation.

  Whatever the case, it was a rectangular shaped construction with what looked from here like a flat roof, although I guessed that it also held an inverted cone, just like the Slug King's house. The only differences that I could see (apart from the size) was that, rather than a usual Slug door which opened when a Slug connected with a spike nearby, it had an open front, and that the back of it looked as if it expanded into some kind of field. In fact, I couldn't see anything behind it, so maybe there was some outdoor area behind it.

  Whilst describing this place in my head for no apparent reason, we had walked right up to its entrance. Peeking inside, I could see a bunch of Slugs roaming around, presumably on some important business.

  "What is this front area for?" asked Phill.

  "Mainly administration work", Boy explained. "They have to keep track of the current cycle very accurately, so that there can be no dispute about the age of newborn Slugs. Their duties also include monitoring the current reports of Slugenis, Slugenis' planetary system, and galaxy-wide Slug population numbers so they can breed an appropriate amount of new Slugs to keep our numbers at the desirable level."

  "You have a 'desirable level' of population?" I asked, somewhat astounded.

  "Of course", Carmen answered me. "We cannot allow our population to fall too low, otherwise there will be too much work to be done for the amount of people we have and we will be at a disadvantage in the war. We also cannot allow our population to grow too large, otherwise there will not be enough food and equipment to supply everyone, and not enough work to keep all Slugs occupied during their half cycle of non-war duties."

  "You mean to say", Phill asked, "that you intentionally keep your numbers down in a war where one of your major advantages is numbers?"

  "It makes sense to me", I said. "No point having a huge army if you can't feed anyone."

  "And if there's not enough medical supplies, Metal Slug and mental blocks to go around", Boy added.

  There was a long pause, before Phill said meditatively, "It seems to me that there are many ways for the Slugs to win the war, and yet your race either intentionally doesn't utilise those options, or actively inhibits them."

  After another pause, Boy spoke up. "Perhaps. But that is also a topic for another time. Come, let us go inside now."

  And with that, we followed him in. Good thing too, because I was starting to get hot out there on the porch. Well, hotter.

  Once we got inside, I realised that it was slightly cooler indoors. And I do mean only slightly. Great.

  We walked in groups of two, Boy with Phill up the front, and me and Carmen behind. Boy was leading us past this first admin area, which was really just a bunch of Slugs sitting in dishes that lined the walls, and took us down an open doorway to another area. And lo and behold, there were more dishes.

  What was important, however, were two things that I noted. Firstly, the colour of the walls was changing as we got deeper into the facility. It started off the usual purple, but was now getting lighter as we travelled, and a tinge more on the blue side. Secondly, there was no roof-cone anywhere in this whole place. Well, not the kind I was used to. Rather than a full-on reversed pyramid like in the King's house, in this place they were much shallower and didn't extend to anywhere near the ground. It seemed that floor-space was a valuable commodity around here, and there was no room for the imposing pipe leading from the roof to underground like I was used to (this pipe just went sideways into the wall).

  After we'd gotten to the end of this area, which began somewhat narrow but greatly t
hickened out by the time we'd traversed down to its end, there was a closed door guarding the entry to the next section. I could feel a slight humming coming from behind that door, and it felt like it was designed specifically to increase the place's ominous vibe.

  "Give me a second", Boy said, and stuck his hand onto the spike which poked out next to the door. I had yet to see a Slug door without its accompanying spike.

  "This could take some time", Carmen told us. "It's not normal for a Slug to just walk into this place. Boy will probably need permission from whoever is currently in charge of this facility."

  "All things take time", Phill commented.

  Ignoring him, I asked Carmen, "What if Boy is older than whoever is currently in charge?"

  "Then he will inform that Slug that we are going in", she simply explained. Well. I guess there was great benefits to be had if one was old in the Slug empire. Was I old? I didn't know, but I was pretty sure I was less than two cycles. Which doesn't sound too old to me.

  After a short wait, the door slid open and we filed into a large, mercifully cold room. Well, I more rushed than filed, but since I was last in line, it had the same effect. We emerged onto a walkway which split in two and then circled all the way around a big hole which was in its centre. It was like a circular balcony that surrounded a central feature which was at a lower level. There were railings on the end of the walkway (if you could count solid metal as a railing), but I was tall enough to easily see or jump over it. At the opposite end, the two walkways fused together again and continued on in a straight line, but I wasn't too focused on that right now.

  Looking down at the central feature of the large room was this - a giant dish. But this didn't seem to be an ordinary dish (and by 'ordinary dish', I mean alien seat with a huge needle poking out of it which the Slugs are expected to sit on and drink out of and fly their ships with), or, at least, not the kind of dish I was used to.

  First up, it was huge. It must've been like six or seven metres across (I don't know what that is in yards, sorry Phill), way too big for any Slug to sit on. Unless there was some super-Slug around here or something, but I seriously doubted it.

  Secondly, it was... full. This place had the same shallow skylight as the other room, so there was plenty of light for me to tell that the bowl was full of... what looked like slime. Not an actual Slug, just slime-soup (ewww) that was slowly swishing around its enclosure. Rather than the uniform colour of purple that I was used to slime being, this concoction was streaked and dotted with every shade of violet under the sun, and maybe even a bit more than that.

  It was the strangest sight I could have anticipated, and I had anticipated some pretty strange sites. Ever since Boy had told me how Slugs were born way back when Phill had first joined our band, I'd expected test tubes with baby Slugs growing in them. Not this. In fact, I don't even know what this is.

  "What on Earth is that?" I said, awed.

  "It's not on Earth", Phill casually informed me, as if he had no curiosity at all.

  "Its a Slug reproduction plant", Boy told me, just as casually. "This is where new Slugs are born."

  "But..." I spluttered. "How? Where are the test tubes and baby Slugs?"

  "Oh!" Carmen burst out. "You're doing that thing that Matt and Phill always accuse you of. Trying to fit your understanding of Slugs with what you already know about humans."

  Phill evenly finished for her, "Even when such a comparison cannot possibly be made due to the many fundamental differences between the two races. Just because they are another organic species, that does not mean that they are in any way similar to you."

  "So you're not shocked at all at this?" I shot at the Cyborg.

  "Yes", he admitted. "But I had no expectations about what I imagined would be here, like you obviously did. I knew that I couldn't take what I knew of humans and naively assume that the Slugs would function in a similar fashion."

  "Fine then", I turned to Boy. "Can you explain this to me?"

  "Of course", he answered, and then he did.

  "In order to understand how this machine works, you first need to understand how Slugs normally breed without the use of technology", Boy began his epic explanation of the Slug reproduction machine. "Obviously, you have noticed that we lack any distinction between our individuals in any way similar to your male and female division."

  "Indeed I have", I answered.

  He continued, "However, we cannot reproduce with only a single individual, so we still need at least two Slugs in order to create a new Slug. An important difference is that there is no limit to the amount of Slugs that can collaborate to create a newborn; this is a fundamental aspect of our entire race's propagation function."

  "Did you just call giving birth a 'propagation function'?" I asked.

  "It was a correct term", Phill told me.

  "In fact", Boy said, "it is your question that is incorrect - Slugs do not 'give birth', as you know the term. And I count us lucky for this, for I find your system of birthing to be both repulsive and problematic."

  "Yeah, yeah, whatever", I complained. "Just get on with it already." I already knew that the Slugs viewed our pregnancy idea (cause it was totally our idea) as a terrible one, but I did my best not to think too much about it lest I end up agreeing with them. I mean, it's not that repulsive and problematic, is it?

  "Alright then", Boy went on. "So the important thing is that while each Slug has a minimum of two parent-Slugs, there is no maximum amount. In fact, in our modern age, each Slug probably has hundreds of different parent-Slugs, maybe even thousands, each of which has contributed to their being."

  "Are you saying that you have hundreds or thousands of different parents?" I asked him, astonished.

  "Yes", he replied. "Of course, I never knew any of them, which is why Slugs don't have the concept of 'family' as you humans do, and each one of my parents is obviously dead by now."

  "Are you a parent?" I asked him.

  "No, but I'll get into that later. Anyway", he continued, "This is how Slugs naturally procreate. A group of Slugs of any number come together and remove a piece of their slime proportional to the amount of Slugs partaking in the activity. That is, the more Slugs participating, the lower the amount of slime each Slug needs to contribute.

  "Now, Slugs can't normally remove pieces of slime from their body just by shifting - as a Slug can usually only slide the bonds of our cells' outer walls along each other, but cannot actually break these bonds - so they must be taken from the body by force. Today, we simply use a sharp blade to perform the work, but I imagine in the past, the slime had to be ripped off."

  At my look of dismay at this, Boy quickly added, "Remember, none of this would actually hurt us, since Slugs do not feel the same kind of pain you do when we are injured, and the slime would simply grow back to its usual volume."

  "What is its usual volume?" asked Phill. "How do you know?"

  Carmen answered him, "Our brains know how much slime we are supposed to have, and produce excess slime above the rate of slime shedding until we reach this volume."

  "Like when our skin knows when to stop healing", I related it back to us humans.

  "I suppose", Carmen answered. "Although each Slug is different, of course, and so the size of each Slug varies." Hmm. I'd never put much thought into why Boy contained more slime than the other Slugs in our group (since he was taller). It appeared that perhaps their race wasn't as monotonous and conformist as I'd thought. Well, not too much, at least.

  "So a proportional amount of slime is taken from each participating Slug", Phill steered the explanation back on track.

  "Yes", Boy said. "Next, all of this slime is mixed together, either just on the ground, or, preferably, in some kind of bowl where the slime has the greatest chance to mingle and integrate together." I thought about the big bowl that we were all looking down upon, its slime still slowly revolving, but said nothing of it. Boy would get to that subject when the explanation was up to it.

  He contin
ued, "Now, whenever slime comes into contact with other slime, it kicks off a chain reaction of checklists that each slime cell is capable of independently performing, without any input from our brains. First, it checks that the slime that it is in contact with is from a different Slug. If it isn't, the checklist stops there, and nothing happens. This occurs each time a Slug touches any other slime, even slime from that Slug's own body."

  "So you mean", Phill began to ask, "that each time you touch somewhere on your body, the slime on your hand ascertains whether or not you are attempting to breed?"

  "Precisely", Boy confirmed. "This ensures that a single Slug cannot procreate using only their own slime. Once this first test is passed, the cell checks whether or not it is connected to a brain. It does this by sending a specific impulse that all adjacent cells recognise and pass on towards the brain. If a brain is present, it sends a confirmation signal back to the cell, the check is failed, and nothing happens."

  "So every time you touch another Slug, the first check is passed and the second is failed?" I asked.

  "Yes", Boy answered. "Although I'm not entirely sure of the order of them. They actually occur simultaneously. The point is, if both checks are passed this means that there is a mixture of slime from multiple Slugs somewhere that is detached from a brain. Of course, this would occur often in a battlefield or some other circumstances, so, in these cases, a newborn Slug is not yet created. In order to see if the intent for breeding is there, a third checkpoint occurs."

  "So you're saying that the slime can act of its own accord, without any brain to give it orders?" asked Phill.

  "Correct", Carmen told him. "There are certain functions inbuilt into every individual slime cell that they can independently operate after certain conditions are met. This is one of them."

  Boy went on, "By this point of the process, the slime is intermingled enough to be operating as a single volume, and performs the third check as one. This check is simply one of time."

  "Time plays a great role in many endeavours", Phill said sagely.

  "Indeed", Boy answered. "The slime simply waits, sometimes for half a day, sometimes for two days. This is to ascertain if the Slugs who donated the slime intended to form a new Slug, or if the detached integrated slime was accidental."

  "How would it know that?" I asked.

  "Simple", Carmen answered me. "The slime cannot live without food, water, or oxygen. If it goes for too long a time without these supplies, the slime simply dies."

  "Doesn't the slime absorb its own oxygen from the air?" I questioned.

  "Normally, yes", Boy replied. "But not when the slime believes that it may be intended for breeding. In this case, it ceases to absorb oxygen, and relies upon the caring Slugs to provide these fundamental requirements of life."

  "How so?" came from Phill.

  "The caring Slugs, which are either the two or three or several parents, or the designated carers if the slime is a product of a large group, simply connect their still attached slime with this amount of slime at sufficient intervals, and transfer digested food, water and oxygen from their own cells to those slime cells."

  "Kind of like breastfeeding", I mused. "Although not quite."

  At the confused look on Boy and Carmen's face, Phill informed them, "Breastfeeding is a form of newborn human nutrient transfer, whereby the female distributes milk to the baby."

  "It could be", Boy said thoughtfully, "although this is before any new Slug has been created. Anyway, once the slime cells have decided that they are meant to create a new Slug, they begin to create a brain at the centre of the mass, which is slowly developed from the digested food, water and oxygen being transferred from the parents. At the same time, more slime is created which will be unique to that individual Slug.

  "After enough time has passed, a full Slug is alive within that slime, and comes fully into being." He took a breath. "And that is how Slugs are born naturally."

  "That's pretty cool", I said, admiring how different the Slug way was to mine. "But, looking down at this bowl, I'm getting the feeling that Slugenis does things a bit differently."

  "I would surmise that it is more than simply a 'feeling' ", Phill said.

  "You are correct", Boy told me. "This is a large-scale Slug reproduction plant, one of two breeding facilities which provides enough Slugs to populate both Slugenis and its surrounding moons and planets."

  He began to walk along the circular walkway that went around the big slime-bowl, and we all followed. Looking down into the bowl, he continued, "This rule is different depending on which area of Slug space one is in, as each has different population requirements, but on Slugenis, the general rule is that once a Slug reaches eight cycles old, they add a sizable portion of their slime to this mixture. This is a form of selective breeding, meaning that only the strongest and wisest of the Slugs add their slime to the gene pool, which will hopefully produce only strong and wise Slugs."

  "Matthew is eight cycles", Phill reminded us.

  "Yes, but he hasn't done such a thing", Boy said, and offered no explanation as to why. "The slime in that bowl is cooled to a low temperature to greatly slow the reproduction function, and while it is fed food, water and oxygen by machines within the structure, it is starved at just the right amount to make it think that it is going to die without actually killing it. This prevents it both from dying and from trying to procreate without us wanting it to."

  "You mean it's caught in some limbo between reproduction and death?" I asked, for some reason horrified.

  "Of course", Boy answered. "Otherwise it would try to form a new Slug that controls all of that slime, which would not be possible. Most of the slime would simply die, and that Slug would turn out to a Slug of ordinary size after having wasted all of the potential Slugs that could have been created."

  Was that still not right? I mean, when you think about it, it was perfectly fine - slime on its own wasn't life, not really. And yet, there was some inherent wrongness about keeping that huge amount of Slug flesh suspended on the brink of death, left in a perpetual state of starvation, dehydration and suffocation, and of not knowing whether or not it is meant to die or create a new Slug

  Boy heedlessly continued, "Whenever we want to create a new Slug, we simply extract the desired proportion of slime out of the bowl, put it in a special incubation chamber which slowly warms it, and feed it enough supplies using automatic devices until it begins to manifest a brain. When the Slug is born proper, it is taken to the back of this facility, where it is taught how to be a Slug of the empire."

  "Can we see that?" I asked, although I wasn't sure how much more information I could take in.

  "That's where we are going now", Boy answered. "Follow me."

  And so I followed him.

  The Cyborg

  As we followed Boy around the circular room that contained the great mixture of slime, I thought about all that he had told us; and it reinforced a startling conclusion.

  I considered;

  From what I understood, Slugs procreate naturally by combining extracts of slime from multiple participants into a common pool, and then supplying this blend with sufficient organic requirements via connecting Slugs until it reaches a critical point and begins the development of its own brain, and thus becomes its own life form.

  I also understood that Slugenis used a mass-production system of keeping a large amount of slime in a suspended state, until such time as they decided to separate out a small mass of it and use it to create an individual Slug. Ethan had expressed some repulsion at this arrangement, but this confused me; slime of itself was not a form of life and therefore one should not feel sympathy towards its plights. Does Ethan find it repulsive when a piece of meat is beaten? Or when a leaf is torn in 2? Putting it down to irrational Human emotions, I considered it no further.

  Understanding exactly how the Slugs reproduced themselves, assuming that a similar system operated on other Slug colonies, was yet another aspect of a major question I had been contem
plating lately. The question was this: how hadn't the Slugs won the war?

  From all that I had learned since I first became a friend to their race, everything pointed to evidence that the Slugs should easily defeat the Cyborgs. From intentionally keeping their numbers down, to making their newborns perform half a cycle of work before going to war, and now to this; I could find no legitimate reason as to why the war was still ongoing. As to why the Cyborgs hadn't yet been defeated.

  The intentional keeping down of Slug population figures and the forced half-cycle of work for newly trained Slugs combined to negate a great possibility for Slug warfare; rather than utilise this system, a better war-focused arrangement would be to locate the Slug breeding facilities at each of the Slug battlefields. Newborn Slugs would then be sent straight into combat, while more Slugs were being constantly created.

  While this would result in Slugs that were less combat-ready than the current system, the Slugs' advantage had always been in numbers; and in this way, the sheer force of the Slug army at each combat environment would overwhelm any Cyborg opposition, trained or otherwise. This would also reduce resource costs, as most Slugs born would die before they had any need for food, whereas every Slug born currently must be provided with a half-cycle's worth of food and water before being sent to their probable death.

  However, it was this final point which left me startled, a revelation that I had not arrived at until the full description of Slug reproduction was given to me just previously, even though I've had all the required information before this event.

  The final point was the complete biological superiority of the organic life form over the synthetic one.

  As Cyborgs, we are made completely of metal, wiring, liquid transportation fluid and coolant, as well as several other less abundant parts. The problem with all of these components was that they were synthetic; they did not occur naturally. For every Cyborg lost, an entire Cyborg body's worth of raw materials had to be mined, collected, processed, formed, and then dispatched. We recycled as much materials as we could, but this did not change the fact that parts could not be made out of nothing.

  Likewise, Cyborg parts could be difficult to replace, depending on the damage that that particular Cyborg has sustained. Although our units are made in a compartmentalised and modular fashion, it could still be difficult to replace all damaged components. When I had been damaged during our defence of Earth, only my most badly impaired pieces had been replaced with spares; the rest of me was left unchanged.

  In contrast, the Slugs, as a biological, organic species, were superior in every way in regards to these points. Slugs are made of totally natural parts, other than their Metal Slug particles and mental blocks. When a Slug is damaged, new parts do not need to be mined, procured, or recycled; the Slug simply eats and grows the missing slime back.

  For every Slug lost, no raw materials needed to be found, extracted and processed; the Slugs simply needed to mix some of their slime together, add an amount of food, water and oxygen, and a new Slug is created. Like the Slugs themselves, their sources of food are also biological and natural; they are renewable, and therefore, assuming proper farming practices, will not run out.

  Therefore, the Slugs have access to an infinite supply of Slugs. Each individual is created by a relatively simple process, and the only problematic input required to create a new Slug is food, which is itself a renewable resource which requires some other renewable input to be created. Such is the cyclical nature of nature itself. In this way, there is no foreseeable end to Slug reproduction. Another major factor is that the Cyborgs, as a war tactic, cannot destroy Slug reproduction; as long as there are Slugs anywhere in the galaxy, they can repopulate their numbers.

  In contrast, the Cyborgs have access to a finite supply of Cyborgs, and a finite number of places in which to produce them. Each unit requires a large amount of inputs and a complex multi-stage creation process. The inputs used are not renewable, at least not in a relevant time period. There therefore is a foreseeable end to Cyborg reproduction; once the minerals on a certain production world are exhausted, the plant must either move or have resources transported to it, another costly process which itself involves the usage of yet more resources. In terms of war, the Slugs could easily target and destroy Cyborg production facilities, which would cripple our ability to create more Cyborgs for our war effort.

  I concluded my considerations with this: the real point of my deductions was that a race that utilised renewable resources has a great advantage over a race that utilises non-renewable resources, especially when the conflict is a protracted one. The ease of reproduction and of biological healing are the greatest factors which contribute to this phenomenon. The fact that the Slugs had yet to defeat the Cyborgs was entirely due to their erroneous societal structure and their inefficient allocation of newborn Slugs to the war.

  Satisfied that my musings were complete, I asked Boy as we walked, "What happens to Slugs after they are born?" The question was intended to further my understanding of the topic.

  "I'm about to show you that now", was his answer, as he led us on past the room we were currently in and into an open area.

  The Human

  Just before we left the big room with the swirling slime, Phill asked, "What happens to Slugs after they are born?"

  Boy answered him, "I'm about to show you that now."

  Soon after, we followed the walkway we were on and entered a huge open area which was probably that field-like space that I saw behind the building before we entered it. A shallow ramp led us to ground level, as the walkway was slightly above, but we stayed upon it, looking out at the area. Over this widespread place was a lot of Slugs seemingly just milling about - well, not a lot a lot, just a lot, if you know what I mean.

  "This place seems quite barren", I observed, meaning the dirt ground which was devoid of any form of plant life. Well, as far as I could see.

  "Slugenis is mostly a desert planet", Carmen told me. "Even though life is much more present here on the poles, there are still dry, lifeless places to be found." She looked out at the flat ground before us. "However, this is artificial land. Any plant life that was once here naturally was cleared out long ago when the breeding facility was built."

  "What kind of natural life is there on Slugenis?" I asked. "Apart from Slugs, I mean."

  "That", said Boy, "is a topic to discuss another time. For now, I'm going to answer Phill's question about what happens to Slugs once they have been created out of the collective slime behind us."

  "Good enough for me", I shrugged. "Go on."

  "I will." He took a deep breath before beginning, which I knew was a tendency of Matthew. I also knew that Slugs didn't need to do it, that Matt only did it because of all the human traits he'd picked up from his time on Earth, and that Boy had obviously picked it up from Matthew. I'm not sure how relevant or important that is, but it struck me as worth noting all the same. Maybe you can read something into it that I can't, I don't know.

  So Boy began. "As you know, once a Slug is 'born' they are not inducted immediately into our empire, nor does their official cycle-life as a Slug begin. They are first taught what it means to be a Slug, the important of Honour, and" - he glanced at Phill - "how to kill Cyborgs."

  "Such training would be necessary", Phill commented, which seemed to mean he was cool with Boy giving all the facts, no matter how they related to his machine race.

  Boy went on, "So, each Slug is created out of a proper amount of slime from the total mix by providing it with warmth, food, water, and oxygen in a special incubation chamber. The supplies are given through several spikes which penetrate the slime.

  "Now remember, once the Slug's brain has fully developed, they are a full adult - at least physically."

  "That in contrast to the human system", Phill added. "Their newborns are entirely physically dependent upon adult aid for supply provision and protection for a number of years."

  "That must be a hindrance", Carmen complained.
"How can a human be expected to totally care for their child for so long after their birth? How long does it take before this child becomes properly independent from their parents and no longer requires their aid?"

  "Hah", I said. "It normally takes about eighteen years, sometimes more." At the astonished (and somewhat disgusted) look on Carmen's face, I decided that I'd had enough of everyone dissing my species. "But enough about that", I said. "Go on, Boy."

  He did. "OK. So the Slug in the chamber is a full adult, but they know very little about the world they were born into and their place in that world. So while they are still developing, one of the spikes is providing them with a vast amount of knowledge about the Slug empire and our ways. They don't remember most of it, of course, but it is a beginning.

  "Slugs are formed in batches, sometimes in groups of twenty, sometimes a hundred, sometimes several hundred, depending on what the facility determines is the best amount to add to our current population. Of course, not every Slug matures at the same rate; some will be ready to leave the chamber earlier than most, some later.

  "However, we want them all to be ready at the same time, to aid in their training and learning. So we constantly monitor their brain's progress of development, and adjust the speed of information transfer to ensure that the flow of knowledge for every Slug will complete at the same time."

  "So you're sending them information before their brain is even developed?" I asked, a bit shocked.

  Carmen told me, "Our brain's ability to receive electrical signals from other Slugs' communications is one of the earliest functions to develop, so we are capable of receiving such communications before we can do much else. Before we can even move, in fact."

  "Ah", I said, although it still didn't make much sense to me.

  Continuing, Boy said, "You may recall that Matthew's first occupation as a newborn Slug was to tend to the creation of newly-formed Slugs, so this is the kind of duties he would have performed." I tried to imagine Matthew standing over a crib, singing a baby to sleep, but it didn't fit his personality properly. He'd probably end up freaking the baby out on purpose, just to see what it would do about it. Heh.

  "Once every Slug is ready, they all come out to this field." Boy saw me looking at the Slugs that were moving about the place, and quickly said, "Those are not newborn Slugs. They are simply ensuring that everything is ready for when the new batch is formed, whenever that might be." He looked more closely. "From what they are doing now, I would guess that that is quite soon."

  I nodded at him, and he went on. "Once on this field, a large number of attendants - another task Matthew would have had the responsibility of doing - begin to feed the new Slugs a large amount of information that supplements whatever they already know. By this point, the concept, importance, and universal rules of Honour have been encoded into these Slugs ever since their brains were capable of receiving signals."

  "Sounds like indoctrination to me", I muttered.

  "It is necessary", Boy said. "Otherwise, how could we fight in the war?"

  "Matthew believes differently", Phill stated with importance.

  I knew that the Cyborg and Matt were both right, but still. I hadn't forgotten what had happened to Jason and William a long time ago, and to Terry not so long ago. And how everybody seemed to be cool with it, even the ones who'd almost died themselves, except me (and Matt, of course).

  I guess that in some ways, it was better to not care about another's life - that way, it wasn't such a big blow if they happened to die. Especially when you were in a constant war like the Slugs. And that's why I thought that Honour had some merit to it. If the Slugs could find a way to modify it, rather than just completely abolish it like Matthew seems to want, then I think it would turn out for the best.

  I may not know much about Slugs and their way of life, but I did know that nobody is going to like it if they cared deeply for other Slugs' lives, but the majority of your friends will be dead before you're one unit of age old.

  "Well", said Boy awkwardly after a short silence. "As I was saying. Once this stage is complete, the Slugs are then taught how to fight and defeat enemy Cyborgs. There will usually at least one older Slug present at these sessions, normally three cycles or older, to give them real-world, practical tips."

  "Such as?" asked Phill, naturally interested.

  "Certain common weak points in a Cyborg, such as the small space between their chest area and legs", Boy answered smoothly. He turned to me. "You've seen Matthew use this to his advantage several times, when he shoves his hand through this space."

  "Yes I have", I replied, although I couldn't fathom the kind of strength it would take to get one's hand all the way through a steel Cyborg.

  "Anyway", Boy started his conclusion, "that's about it. The Slugs are trained for however long it takes, sometimes half a cycle, sometimes less, sometimes more. When every member is ready, they are all released as a group into Slug society proper, and begin their first half cycle of work on Slugenis. Once that is complete, they go to war."

  "What happens if one member is not ready?" I asked.

  "You will find that a large number of your peers waiting for you to finish is an excellent motivator", Carmen assured me. Well, I guess that it would be.

  "What if some Slugs don't agree with the Honour idealogy?" questioned Phill.

  Boy told him, "By the point that they are ready, they have had the values of Honour pumped into their brains through direct communications, ways of fighting, and stories given by war veterans for so long that no Slug questions it. Even should an individual have any doubts, once they get into the war, these thoughts are abolished."

  "How so?" I asked.

  "Once someone is surrounded by war", Boy answered gravely, "a war on as grand a scale as ours, they realise that it is common for more lives than they can count to be extinguished before they realise what is happening. Once they know this, they know that death is inevitable for every Slug, and that they should seek to end their life as meaningfully as they can."

  "Of course", Phill added, "in a normal situation, everyone who comes to this realisation will come to a different conclusion. However, the Slug would fall back upon the knowledge that they already know, and the beliefs of the rest of their race. They will come to agree with the importance of dying with Honour, and that there is no greater point to life than dying in a way that benefits their empire."

  "Precisely", answered Carmen, just as gravely as Boy had. I kind of got the impression that maybe they didn't fully believe in the words that they were saying, due to Matthew's influence no doubt - but it was a good thing. I've got a good feeling that Matt planned to abolish Honour once the war was over, and he'd perhaps be right to do so; but he'd need the support of his friends first. Just Phill and I wouldn't be enough.

  "Well", Boy said after a long pause was over. "It's time to head back, I think. Let's go and see what Matthew's been up to this whole time."

  I gave one final look at the barren training field, with its dirt ground and Slugs roaming about in preparation for the next generation of Slugs, before I started to follow the others. As I turned, however, I saw Phill also looking out at the field.

  He noticed me looking at him, and he said to me, low enough so that (I think) only I could hear, "I also believe differently", before he slowly turned and followed Boy back into the facility.