The Slug Rebellion Read online

  Chapter 4 - Shapings of a plan

  The Human

  "How is this possible?" the Prime Minister had asked in astonishment. Her eyes had bulged as they looked up and down Matthew. "How?!"

  "I can't be bothered explaining this again", Matthew replied wearily. "Let's just say I'm a shape-shifter."

  "I can confirm that", her secretary had, well, confirmed. She too seemed amazed. I was just amazed that I was in the same room with the Prime Minister! I wasn't sure we'd be able to convince anyone that Matt was an alien, but my worries were lost when he... shape-shifted in front of her. It wasn't as fast as I'd expected it to be, like in the movies, but rather slow and drawn-out. After one of the lower secretaries had threatened to call security, he calmly removed his jacket, rolled up his sleeve and flexed his fingers. Then, slowly but surely, his index finger had begun to... crawl up his forearm, inching its way along. It literally moved across his skin, all the way up his arm, until it looked as if he had a finger poking out from his elbow. The finger then collapsed onto his arm, morphing into the skin, only for another to sprout out back where it belonged. Needless to say, that got her attention. She summoned her superior at once, and from then on it was all a demonstration.

  We'd been hoping to reach some high-up Victorian person, but the Prime Minister herself just happened to be in our state for some political reason that I had no idea about. Politics didn't exactly concern me right now.

  Well, after the PM had emerged and made her outburst, Matt'd given her a private show, and afterwards she looked like she was in shock. I hoped she didn't have personal bodyguards who wondered what happened in there. I know I sure did. She said she needed time to consider the implications of this, so the four of us - Matthew, Boy, Phill and I - sat in some kind of parliamentary lounge. And those lounges were very comfortable. When I remarked so after a few minutes, Phill had stated: "You creatures and your pursuits of comfort are an inefficient use of time and energy."

  "Excuse me", I answered, feigning insult, "but the pursuit of comfort is not just a hobby or a past time. It is a way of living. A way of life. Many people have died trying to bring the best in couches, chairs and beds to the rest of the world."

  Phill looked at me as if I'd just gone insane, so I decided to drop it. Which was good, because the PM had just emerged from her office. "So let me get this straight", she started. "After being here for all this time, you decided to tell us about yourselves now?"

  "Precisely", Boy confirmed.

  "Exactly", Matthew agreed. "For future reference. Assuming all goes well, I intend to be back sometime in the future, so just remember this encounter. And that we are friendly."

  "Hopefully, the eight of us will be back", Boy added. I counted: The five Slugs back at school, Boy and Matthew... That made seven. Boy had had said eight, so he either excluded me or Phill. I selfishly hoped it was Phill.

  "Well", the PM had said to us, "Thanks for that... I guess. Since you don't want to allow us to study you biologically, may I send a representative to study you? Humanely, of course."

  "No", Phill responded icily.

  "Of course", Matt quickly added. "Of course you may. Just one person though."

  "Very well", the Prime Minister replied. "I will send someone over promptly."

  "You know where our base of operations is?" I asked, surprised.

  "You mean that school?" she asked.

  I paused, before admitting, "Yes."

  "I already told her", Matthew informed me. Ah.

  There was a small silence, before the Prime Minister said, "Well, I look forward to our representative's report, and to meeting you again."

  "Thank you", Matt spoke. "We'll be in touch."

  As we walked away from the lobby, Matt laughed at me, "How cool was that? I just told the Prime Minister that 'we'll be in touch'. She must think I'm some kind of superhero or something."

  "What is a superhero?" asked Boy.

  "I'll tell you sometime", I answered.

  "You humans and your cryptic answers", Phill mumbled. "In our civilisation, everything is plainly communicated. No beating around the bush."

  "Beating around the bush?" Boy exclaimed. "What kind of phrase is that? Why would you beat around a bush, unless of course you were trying to scare some creature inside, but I still see no point in..."

  "Never mind!" Matthew exclaimed. "You still have a lot to learn of human sayings."

  "So, Phill", I asked. "Is it just me, or did you not like the PM that much?"

  "I have no way of knowing whether or not it was just you who thought that, so there was no purpose in stating that query. In regards to your second query, my home has no ruler. Every Cyborg is approximately equal. Having a ruler such as this... Prime Minister is inefficient and carries the risk of ineffective decisions and the organic risk of corruption."

  'Approximately equal'. Wow. "If everyone was equal, it would take forever to make decisions, and that would be way more inefficient", I argued.

  "Not for us", was all he gave in response.

  "Enough of that", Matthew complained. "We need to prepare for the coming invasion. Man, that sounded cool. Anyway, let's get back to our hub, and draw out our battle plans."

  "Where exactly is our hub?" asked Boy.

  "The school."

  "A learning centre sufficing as a battle station", Phill mused. "You Slugs will stoop to anything."

  "We will stoop to anything if that means we get to kick some Cyborg butt!" yelled Matt in response. I laughed, and Boy gave a half-laugh. He was getting there.

  As we walked out of the building in silence, I mused, "I wonder what the others are doing?"

  "We are about to find out", Boy answered.

  "I've said it once, I'll say it again", Matthew started. "To the war room!"

  The Cyborg

  I considered;

  Assisting these primitive life forms and the wretched slugs to defend this measly planet from my old kin, or spending another 7,503 days in that murky cave. It appeared that this was the right choice to gain the maximum possible benefits for myself. After all, if the Cyborgs do succeed in occupying this planet, and find me, I will no doubt be decommissioned. I have no choice.

  There are some advantages to being free, however. I am in contact with not only the humans, but also the slugs. If the need should ever arise, I would bargain my way back into the Cyborg race with information. I'm not 100% sure that they would accept such an offer, but it was an option.

  Back at the 'hub', which was actually a large room with tables, chairs and a whiteboard, matthew brought everyone together. If I was to survive this ordeal, I would need everyone's trust and acceptance. I'd already gained ethan's; to him, I was just another alien. Matthew's was mine too, as he believes, correctly, that I have no other choice. The other slug, boy, only mildly distrusts me. Matthew's opinion will sway him, however, as well as time. Always time. It is the other 5 that I am yet to earn; they are yet to inform me of their opinions. I shall have to work on that.

  I'd already decided that in order to gain the slugs' trust, I would have to minimise the differences between us. Make them think that I am 'one of them'. This would be no simple task, but one which must be completed. Physical speech seemed to be the best way to do this, as I had no other way to communicate with them. I would have to devote a majority of my processes into what, when and how I speak. I needed to speak like one of them, to appear like one of them.

  "Okay", matthew announced. "We need some kind of plan. A defence against the coming invasion." Invasion. It's not an invasion, we are simply mining a mineral-rich planet to assist the war effort. All my time here is nothing compared to that; the war has been waged for approximately 12,476 earth years. I considered informing matthew of the inaccuracy in his statement, but realised he may be saying such a thing to provoke defensive moral in the others. A weakness only organics are prone to.

  "We came in only a scout ship with room for 7", boy said. "Hardly enough weapons to defend against a m
ining ship."

  "I still don't get it", ethan whined. "How can you guys not take on a mining ship?" The human still struggled to understand our ways, which was understandable. His race did not know what it was like to prepare for nothing but war, do nothing but war, think nothing but war. He would have to learn such lessons if he were to ever be of assistance. Of course, this would take time. Everything takes time.

  "Have you not been told of the dangers of a Cyborg mining ship?" I queried him.

  "Yes, but I didn't understand", he admitted, sheepishly. Why? Ignorance is not the ignorant's fault, but the one who didn't teach. I would be the one to teach now.

  "A Cyborg mining ship", I began, pausing for a time to ensure he knew that I was about to begin. He appeared to. "A Cyborg mining ship is no ordinary scout ship or transport ship. Like matthew said before, we mine any world with life not strong enough to resist. Although the slugs see this as unethical, we see their sparing of rich worlds as inefficient and impractical. Our mining ships have to deal with whatever life is on the planet that has been marked, in this case, earth. In most cases, there is no life, or primitive, microscopic life. Such cases we do not have to deal with. Other times, there is sufficiently advanced life capable of resistance. We have to eradicate such life before the mining process can begin." I noticed boy shaking his head at this statement. Was it so wrong? Did not the humans do a similar thing, albeit on a smaller scale?

  Ethan didn't seem to mind so much, perhaps surprisingly. Instead he asked, "Like earth?"

  "Yes, like earth. There is a lengthy process to complete before a planet is actually mined. For example, before the ship begins to extract any resources, it will have to exterminate all humans capable of resistance. The last time I was connected to the network, this was listed as a level-4 planet."

  "I will ask about that network thing later, but what is level-4?" the human asked eagerly.

  "A system we have for classifying the risk of the life on a planet. 0 is no life, 8 is the slugs; earth is 4. We do not mine any worlds above level-5, as the risk outweighs the benefits. As earth is only level-4, it is a minable world. The mining ship en route is likely to be an initial miner; therefore it is carrying sufficient weapons to cursorily attack a planet with level-4 defensive capabilities. With extra reinforcements here, however..." I nodded towards the slugs. It seemed a human convention to physically gesture rather than verbally communicate locations, so I decided to do the same. "... we may have a chance."

  "So", ethan asked me, before the others could say anything. "What you're saying is that the mining ship coming over has the exact weaponry needed to begin to attack earth if we had no assistance?"

  "Yes, and if we didn't see them coming", matthew answered instead. He was correct.

  "So we just might have a chance", ethan concluded.

  "Yes", I answered. He looked at me as if he expected me to continue, so I did. "If we plan right, and are lucky, we just might have a chance."

  This seemed to brighten the human's mood. Why? Whether or not he was confident about the defence is independent to whether or not the defence will succeed. Perhaps it was another organic weakness I was not prone to. I had no time to further consider this, however, as my interrogation was not yet over.

  "What exactly is the mining process?" boy asked me.

  I paused for a short time to give the impression that I was considering my response, rather than letting them know I already knew my response before the query was brought forward. "It consists of 3 main stages", I began. "The 1st stage consists of a single-Cyborg craft that makes a concealed rudimentary examination of a prospective planet. It sends a report back to the Cyborgs with an initial accounting of the planet's mineral make-up and potential for productive resource extraction. It also gives a preliminary estimation of the resident species' defensive abilities using the level scale. After sending this report, the scouter either returns back to a Cyborg world to refuel or travels to the next prospective planet.

  "Based on this, the Cyborgs decide whether or not to launch the 2nd stage. This entails sending a group of Cyborgs in an initial miner. The number of Cyborgs and the nature of this ship depends on the level of the planet. It is the initial miner's job to make the final decision on whether or not the world is worth being mined. If the answer is yes, they will often launch a preliminary strike on the world's life, to scatter them and prepare them for mining. This is likely the ship coming here now.

  "Finally, the actual mining ship arrives. This consists of the vast ship itself, accompanied by an armada of small and medium-sized attack crafts to eradicate life on the planet. It is now that the mining of the world's resources begins." I stopped, hoping I hadn't divulged too much to the slugs and human. However, the more they thought I was telling them all available information, the more they would trust me, so perhaps it was a positive thing.

  I turned to matthew to begin the war discussions. He appeared to be the leader of our little defence force. More leaders. We would be much more productive if we all had equal authority, but I was now beginning to learn that both humans and slugs did not seem capable of such a feat. Our leaders were not leaders of vote or random characteristics decided at birth, but of design. Still, they did not lead, only guide.

  However, this was not a relevant process at this point in time. The discussions began.

  The Human

  I'm now, apparently, fully aware of the danger that the Cyborg mining ship posed. Phill had given me hope however, that we might be able to defend the Earth. I wasn't sure whether I should be proud or ashamed that my planet was classed as a level-four out of eight; was that good or bad? But I had no time to think about that now. We begun discussing our strategy.

  "Where is your main scout ship?" Matthew asked Boy.

  "Orbiting around your large planet..." He paused and touched Matthew's face.

  "Jupiter", Matt finished.

  "Jupiter", Boy agreed. "Like the god."

  "They're all named after gods. Get used to it."

  I was almost confused, until I guessed that Boy didn't know what Jupiter was called. He'd touched Matt and sent him a picture of it, and Matt told him the name of the gas giant. I was beginning to get this communication thing.

  "The main ship is orbiting Jupiter, while our small transport is on the other side of this world's satellite."

  "Nice idea", I complemented, to get myself in the conversation.

  "Thank you", he replied, somewhat nicely. It appeared that he was beginning to like me now. I'm not sure if the ability to befriend aliens is particularly worthwhile, but it had to count for something.

  "What kind of ordnance does the main ship have?" asked Phill.

  "Not much; it is merely a scout ship. We have some weaponry, life pods and..."

  Before he could finish, Phill made a show of groaning, "Life pods. I hate life pods." Matt laughed, but the rest of us had no idea what was going on.

  "Continue", Matthew told him.

  "We also have a space-cannon."

  At this, Matthew drew a sharp intake of breath, followed by a smile. "Good, very good", he murmured. I looked to Boy for an explanation, since Matt seemed lost in thought.

  The Slug complied. "A space-cannon is a quite large, well, cannon, for use in space. It fires a large blast capable of decimating almost anything it meets, and at great speed. The downside is it has a very short range, in terms of space, due to its propulsion system. This makes them impractical for most space encounters. However, we knew we would be at a planet here, and it is very good at planetary or atmospheric bombardment."

  "Wait", I asked, "why would you prepare to attack Earth?"

  "In case you had been the ones who attacked Matthew", Boy answered simply.

  I was quiet for a bit, before Phill told him, "A fortunate coincidence. A Slug space-cannon is a destructive weapon. It will greatly help our cause."

  "OK", Matthew announced. "From now on, it is no longer known as a space-cannon, because that is really lame. We are go
ing to mount this cannon on the Moon, and therefore, it will be known as the LOC - the Lunar Orbital Cannon. And yes, I just made that up right now."

  There was a short pause. "On the Moon?" I asked incredulously. "It's called a space-cannon for a reason. To be fired in space!"

  "It is not called a space-cannon anymore", he told me solemnly. "It is the LOC, and it can be fired from wherever you place it."

  "Its title is an inaccuracy, as an object cannot be both on Luna, and in orbit", Phill commented.

  "It is on" - and here Matthew did air quotes - " 'Luna', as you call it, and it fires at enemies that are in orbit. Thus, the LOC."

  Phill considered this, before conceding, "You are correct."

  "On a satellite", Boy input. "the blast would be too slow to be effective. It is not that fast."

  "Bah!", Matt answered, after a pause. "I hadn't thought of that. Oh well, we'll have to put it in orbit around Earth then. It will be undetectable amongst all of the other satellites there. But, its name shall remain the LOC."

  "Now it's certainly an inaccuracy", Phill stated.

  "Too bad", the Slug answered.

  "Now, Phill", Boy asked, getting us back on topic. "What is the first thing the Cyborgs will do to Earth?"

  "I am assuming that the second stage of the mining process is on its way now. They will either stay in orbit or land on the surface with their army, and secure the best prospective mining sites. Either way they will be assessing our defensive capabilities, and performing a thorough analysis on this planet's minerals."

  "They won't blast us from orbit or anything?" I asked.

  "It's likely they will not blast you from orbit, but they will do anything, as I just explained. As to the former part of your query, Earth is classed as a level-four planet, not yet capable of defence from space. It's improbable they will waste weapon ammunition on something they don't believe they have to."

  I would've thought that would make me happy, but I lost some of my pride knowing that the Cyborgs didn't even think they needed to attack us with their spaceships to win.

  "Excellent." Matthew didn't seem to share my shame, however he didn't seem as happy as his words suggested. "This is good. If worst comes to worst, we can fight them in a ground assault. How many Cyborgs are on an initial mining ship?"

  "When I was last connected to the network, a level-four planet required fifteen Cyborg soldiers."

  My pride took another hit. They actually believed that they only needed fifteen soldiers to subdue my entire planet. It seems they greatly underestimated us... I hope.

  "OK", Boy spoke this time. "So there is nine of us, eight of which are combat-able." He looked at me. "Not to offend."

  "None taken", I replied. He looked confused after that, and I didn't know why until I realised that my reply didn't fit what he'd said.

  "So", he continued. "Eight of us versus fifteen of them. It sounds plausible, given the right circumstances."

  "Yes..." Matthew mused. He didn't sound as optimistic as the rest of us. "However, what if they find your scout ship? They will know we are here."

  "Perhaps we should land it on the planet", Boy suggested.

  "They will not scan the planet for anomalies", Phill said. "There is no need to, as the humans are not supposed to know they are coming."

  "How big is the ship?" I asked Boy. "The Slug one."

  "Well, it contains many internal items, including a spa - the LOC." Matt smiled when he said this. "So it is about as long as... this room."

  I looked around: the room was about twenty metres long, as it was a large multiple classroom, so the ship wasn't some huge intergalactic space cruiser, but it still seemed a decent size. Because I totally knew what a decent size for a spaceship was.

  "What else do you have in there?" I asked.

  "Like I said, weapons, life pods, room for a smaller internal ship, and, of course, the engine."

  I resolved to ask how their engines worked some other time, and about that 'smaller internal ship', because now didn't seem appropriate. "I'm sure the PM would let you land it in a desert or something. Just be careful of evil government scientists, they'll want to pull it apart."

  Boy looked at me horrified, but Matt told him, "He's joking. Anyway, we have the LOC, the weapons on the scout ship, and the nine of us... This just may be possible."

  "Excellent", Boy repeated Matt's word from before. "I'll make the preparations to launch the LOC into orbit. Meanwhile, you continue developing the strategy. Rosetta can stay here with you."

  The plan was laid. We had a strategy to defend Earth, and the odds were that the odds were with us. Everyone was confident that it would work, and that made me confident. However, when I looked over at Matthew, he didn't appear as enthusiastic about our strategy as the others were. He didn't look happy at all; he was staring down at his shoes dejectedly. Like he thought all our plans were for nothing.

  This greatly reduced the confidence I'd had but a second before. Why wasn't Matt as sure of the plan as the rest of us? He must know something we didn't, that was it. I would have to get it out of him. After all, if Earth fell, he would have a home to go home to. I would have nothing.

  After Boy left, Matthew retreated into the war room by himself, and in a way that suggested he didn't want any company. Great. Phill was off... calibrating, or some other robot stuff, and Boy and the others (who were yet to really do anything) were going back to their scout ship, so it was just me and Rosetta. For the most part, we just stood there, awkwardly. I decided to break the silence.

  "So... what do you reckon our chances are of winning this?"

  She looked at me stoically. For the first time, I noticed her appearance; she was tall, as were all the Slugs, but was more slightly built than the others, with blonde hair and blue eyes. Probably her disguise trying to appear female, I mused. I still found it hard to believe that this woman was... genderless. Like all the others, she was clad with heavy, warm clothes, despite the comfortable temperature. My reverie was broken when she told me, "Chance is irrelevant. It is our strategies and tactics that will determine the outcome."

  "But there is some luck involved, however small", I argued.

  "I do not believe in this human idea of luck."

  "It's not a belief, it's a fact. So much of our lives is governed by chance, such as our gender and where we are born."

  "That is an irrational concept. How does luck govern where you were born?"

  "Well, I am lucky that I was born in Australia, a nice, peaceful country to live in. Everyone who is born in war-torn, famine and drought-stricken countries isn't as lucky as I."

  "But you are not lucky to have been born in... Australia. If chance were against you, and you were not born in this country, you would not have been born in another country. You simply would not have been born."

  "I'm not sure I follow." This was getting confusing, but I was trying to understand. Plus, and much more importantly, there was nothing else to do.

  "You do not need to follow me, only understand me."

  "I don't understand", I amended.

  "I am trying to say, you are not lucky to have been born in Australia, you were just born here. Likewise, someone in another country is not lucky or unlucky to have been born there; they were simply born there. It is not like you wait to be born, and it is chance which newborn body you go into. No, a body is simply born, and that person grows, and that person is that person. No luck involved. Now do you understand?"

  "I think so", I said, unsure.

  "Good", she replied.

  "However, that whole spirit thing depends on what you believe in. I'm sure some people believe that their spirits wait in Heaven, and then possess a newborn body."

  Rosetta looked at me, incredulously. "People actually believe such nonsense?"

  "Yes, it's called religion", I sniffed self-righteously. I wasn't exactly the religious type, but that doesn't mean I go around telling others it's 'nonsense'.

  She just shook her head, and
I sensed that the conversation was over. "I'll go check on Matthew", I told her to get away. I went back into the classroom, where he was lounging on a makeshift bed. OK, it was just a sheet on the floor.

  Matt was just lying there, doing nothing, so I planned to pounce on him and ask about his lack of confidence, but he just told me before I could even try to wring it out of him.

  "They're wrong, you know?" he said, as soon as I walked in and opened my mouth.

  "What do you mean?"

  "The others. They're all wrong. It is not an initial mining ship coming here to assess Earth."

  I thought about this. Matthew should be happy, since the mining ships seemingly posed such a huge threat. But he wasn't. "Isn't that a good thing? That means that Earth won't be mined."

  "No, it won't be mined. It will be worse." He seemed depressed, if aliens could even get depressed. But I supposed that I had to find out what he knew.

  "OK, what ship is coming, and how do you know?"

  "I would've thought it obvious to everyone, but I seem to be the only one to have figured it out. It all seemed too easy, too obvious: the initial mining ship would arrive, thinking it would find no resistance, and we'd easily destroy it. That would teach the rest of them to leave Earth alone. But, of course, it's never that simple. I was thinking about it just before, and I realised that it doesn't quite add up."

  "Will you please tell me what's going on?" I was beginning to whine now. I was tired of him talking in circles.

  "It is not a mining ship coming", he began solemnly. "It is an assassin ship, coming to get me, and probably Earth, too. The original Cyborg that attacked us, that fateful Sunday? There's no way it was just scouting for mining spots. Why here, at this specific country, at this specific school? Why drop down in that magnetic insertion thing, if not for a surprise attack? Why did it acquire a native weapon - that sword it had - to use against me? Why did it look sufficiently like a human that it could pass as one in public?

  "The fact that it knew exactly where to land, at exactly the right time, and had that sword meant that it had been here before, perhaps several times. Phill said that they perform only a rudimentary examination, but this one was on another mission, one not quite so rudimentary. It was here, looking for something. Looking for me."

  He looked at me, expecting me to gasp at this startling revelation or something, but I just waited. He continued: "So it found me, and I killed it. Since I haven't been attacked since, that means it was a single-Cyborg craft. Likely it started as a mining scouter, as Phill explained, here to determine if Earth was worth being mined." I was pretty sure he'd just stated that there was no way it was a mining scouter, but I let it pass.

  He continued. "When it discovered that a Slug was on this planet - perhaps it found my ship wreckage I'd tried so hard to hide? - its priorities changed. There was a Slug on Earth. Perhaps I was here fostering good relations, to build a future human-Slug alliance. In hindsight, perhaps I should have been doing this. Nevertheless, the Cyborg couldn't allow this possibility, and there was no time to call for help.

  "So, it attacked me, and I killed it. Wait, I said that. It died, but first it would've sent a message to its ship, and through that, back to the Cyborgs, although I've no idea how it all happened so fast. There is still too much that we don't know. In either case, the Cyborgs that are now on their way know that I am here, and that I am definitely still combat ready. And they've probably had to assume that, yes, I am preparing the humans for an alliance with the Slugs."

  He paused to take a deep breath before continuing. "They cannot allow this to happen. So now, this ship is on its way here to kill me, to prevent this alliance. They are probably here to attack Earth as well; they cannot risk the Slugs gaining such a valuable ally, as they likely assume that it is much too late for them to foster any good relations. Not that they'd want to team up with organics anyway. They don't need to actually destroy all the people here just yet, just blast them up good enough to scale them back in technology. Level four is pretty good, considering the rarity of advanced life and such. They can come back with a large enough force to destroy Earth later, when the humans are too damaged to defend themselves, and too damaged to be worth saving as allies by the Slugs. In other words, my presence here has doomed the planet."

  Now, this was a problem. I was no expert, but an 'assassin ship' sounded a lot more dangerous than a 'mining ship'. As much as I hated to suggest it, I began with the obvious: "Why don't you leave then? To stop them from attacking Earth?" I didn't put much of my awesome persuasive skills into it; I didn't want him to leave, or Boy, or the others, or even Phill. I didn't want to go back to my normal life, if one could call that normal. Besides, my 'normal' life involved Matthew anyway. What was it without him?

  "That's a complication. Well, not really a complication. Leaving should be the right thing to do. That's the way it should work. But it doesn't. The Cyborgs now have irrefutable proof that I am on Earth. When they arrive, if they think at all that I have initiated some kind of Slug-human relations, they will attack. They will have to attack; they can't leave such a possibility to chance. In addition, Earth is indeed a suitable planet for mining. It's got plenty of iron here, doesn't it? I'm pretty sure it does. Anyway, that is two very good reasons for them to attack the planet, whether I'm here or not.

  "So, there's not really much I can do by leaving. All that would accomplish is leaving an uninformed, unprepared Earth ready for an assaulting force. Think the glassing of Reach, although the Cyborgs aren't doing it for such inherently evil reasons, I suppose."

  "So, we're in big trouble now. We'd better go tell the others."

  "I agree. But I don't want any other humans to find out. I've seen enough movies to know that that is a bad idea."

  This was the reason that Matthew didn't share our optimism. He knew that it was no mining ship coming, but that we still had no choice but to destroy it. The odds were now stacked high against us, in contrast to just a few minutes ago, despite what Rosetta thought. We waited for Boy and the others to return; there was a lot to discuss.

  "Complete", Boy announced much later as he entered the classroom - or the 'war room'. "It wasn't easy, but we managed to launch the LOC into Earth orbit at a position and speed such that it's always facing us."

  "It's called a geostationary orbit", Matt informed him.

  "You humans and your need to name everything around you", Boy muttered. But he continued, "In either case, it's ready to fire."

  "Wait, you've already done it?" I asked, astonished. "That was quick."

  "We controlled it remotely from the planet", Boy told me. "We didn't leave the Earth."

  "Excellent", Matthew congratulated him.

  "That will likely be useful", Phill commented. "It appears you've done a satisfactory job."

  "A compliment from a Cyborg", Boy shook his head. "I never thought that would happen to me."

  "It wasn't a compliment, rather an acknowledgment of your performance", Phill told him. The Slug didn't respond.

  Matthew was getting impatient to tell the others what we had discussed earlier. I still wasn't sure what this meant for our plans, but I was about to find out. "I have an announcement to make", he told everyone sternly, getting them in the mood for some bad news. "Everything is not as it appears." He recounted our conversation and his reasons for believing so.

  As that brought a silence of its own, I decided to break it with a "Bam! Mind bomb!" No one seemed to understand it though, and it earned me some strange looks. I wondered briefly if any of them thought, 'must be a human thing'.

  After a few more seconds of nothing, Phill commented "Did you not think of this sooner?"

  "I agree", Frank, well, agreed. "I do not like having incorrect information." This was the first time I'd heard Frank talk, and so I began to take notice of him. Wearing a heavy jacket, with a shirt underneath, and black pants of some sort, he appeared very bulked up and muscular, like Boy. His dark brown hair complemented his dark brown e
yes whose stare seemed to have the ability to penetrate solid steel. For all I knew of these aliens, it actually could.

  "Obviously not", Matt replied. "Well, now that the cat's out of the bag", he started, which caused Frank to give him a confused look, "our chances of success are somewhat slighter than before." I smirked at Rosetta when he said 'chance', but she ignored me.

  "So, what are we looking at with an assassin ship?" I asked. "And why pick such a lame name? And why call it an assassin if it wants to attack a whole planet?"

  "Give me a break, I thought of it in, like, two seconds. And, one could say, it wants to assassinate the planet, eh? Eh?" He got some blank stares. "Anyway, an assassin ship, last time I faced one, had only ten Cyborg soldiers, but they were no ordinary miners. They are some pretty decent fighters, or so I assume. Also, we've lost the element of surprise. Just thought I'd tack that onto the end."

  "Not necessarily", Boy interrupted. "They probably don't know that we're here. They probably think that you're all on your own, thinking that you're safe. They may even think that you have forgotten how to predict them, or how to defeat more than one at a time."

  "They may even think I've gone crazy after all the time I've spent here", Matt said, half to himself. That brought about another pause, until it reminded me of something.

  "Tell me, how old are you, exactly?" I asked Matt. "I mean in total, not just here."

  "Impossible to determine in human years", he answered, with newfound pride, although I wasn't sure why. "Boy, how long have I been here?"

  "I don't know", Boy replied. "But I would estimate at one to one-and-a-half cycles."

  "Agreed", Matthew replied. "I suppose it could be higher than that, but really? One-and-a-half ought to be the maximum."

  "Agreed", Boy also agreed. By this point, I was so out in the dark, I might as well have closed my eyes.

  "Umm, how many years is a cycle then? Fifteen years?"

  Matthew looked at me, and seemed to remember that I was the one who'd asked the question. "Ahem", he cleared his throat. Did he even have a throat? I had a lot to learn about Slug anatomy. "Slugs do not measure their lives like humans do", be began. I sensed a speech coming on, so I got settled in, and turned my brain into learning mode. "That is, we do not measure our ages by the orbit of our planet around our star."

  "What's your planet called?" I interrupted.

  "Slugenis", he answered. I suppressed a giggle, but Boy near burst out in laughter.

  "Slugenis!" he laughed. "What kind of planet name is that?"

  "It sounds cool!" Matt defended himself. "Anyway, we don't measure our lives by Slugenis' orbit around our sun, but rather by a changing variable. I call it a cycle, and one cycle is equal to the average length of a Slug's life. Therefore, it alters frequently, and the length of a cycle at any given time is a measure of how well the war is going. A long cycle means Slugs are taking longer to die, so we are going good. A short cycle means we are dying fast, so we are in trouble. I actually don't know how many cycles I've been on Earth, as I don't know how long a cycle is back home. But, as I said, I can estimate it."

  "So, while you've been here, stranded, more than a whole generation of Slugs have been born and have died?"

  "Yes. That's why I called it a cycle; the cycle of life. I considered the circle of life, but being x circles old made no sense and just sounded weird."

  "So, how old are you in total?"

  "Well, I was six cycles before I came here. Adding on my estimate, that would make me seven-and-a-half cycles old. Boy here would still be five - don't ask, it's complicated - and the Slug King would be... twelve-and-a-half. You can judge the effectiveness of a Slug in battle by their age; the older the Slug, the better they are in a fight because the more experienced they are."

  "You've been alive for over seven times the average life of a Slug", I mused aloud. "Cool."

  "Yes, it is very cool. Because more-or-less every Slug fights in the war, and every Slug dies in the war, we don't really know what the biological lifespan of a Slug is. The King is the oldest Slug alive right now."

  After a brief silence, although my head was filled with my pondering of how someone could possibly not know how long their race normally lived, Matthew said to himself, but loud enough for everyone to hear, "Very interesting indeed."

  "Can we continue on with the plans?", Jason asked impatiently.

  "Yes, let's", Boy added.

  "OK", Matthew agreed. "So the Cyborgs land, presumably at the same spot where the last one did." He looked at Phill. "You weren't the last one, by the way."

  "I know", the machine answered. "And I wouldn't call that a landing anyway." Matt smiled.

  "Yes. So, they land, we attack, bada-bing, bada-boom, we win."

  Some of the Slugs looked at him like he'd just sprouted a third arm, but I got it. "Sound simple enough", I suggested.

  "Indeed", he responded. "Despite my recent... revelation, it appears that we still may have a chance at this." I smirked at Rosetta again.

  Her name was Pauline. She was a biologist sent by the government, and her purpose was to learn about the biology and anatomy of the Slugs. She wore a black trench coat, black pants and black shoes, and had dark hair and eyes, and was probably in her 30's. Although she wasn't as built up as the Slugs, like Carmen and Rosetta, she was still athletic and quite lean, for a human. Wow, I can't believe I just said 'for a human'. Some regarded her arrival as hostile, namely William and Rosetta, but I was just glad to no longer be the only human in the group. Now there was two of us.

  "Greetings visitors to Earth", she'd begun when she first greeted us in our makeshift room. "My name is Pauline, and I am here to learn about your race." She then recounted the circumstances of her arrival and the nature of her mission, and how the Prime Minister had reached her. "I am a leading biologist at several universities across Melbourne and Sydney, having also done some work up in Darwin. The Prime Minister chose me as she felt I could best represent the interests of the country, and not any one state or territory."

  William stared at her darkly. "You think you can just come here and learn how our bodies work, learn our weaknesses. Matthew, they plan to betray us as soon as we fend off the real threat." I was beginning to notice that, despite the fact that they were all aliens, everyone seemed to become more 'human' every day. They spoke more human-like, they acted more human-like and I bet they thought more human-like too. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

  "Pray, be calm William", Matthew reassured him.

  "What is that supposed to mean? To whom am I to pray?"

  "I'm not sure", Matt admitted. "But just pray. Anyway, Pauline, you have quite some big shoes to fill."

  "I do?" she asked, quizzically. "I was told I was the first scientist to learn about you."

  "You are the first scientist, but not the first human", Boy interjected. "Ethan is the first."

  "And he is absolutely trustworthy", William spoke harshly. "I hope you prove to be the same, for your sake. We do not have a treatment for traitors, but we can create one." I suppose I should be worried of his threat to 'traitors', but I was beaming with happiness about what Will said about me. The fact that I was 'absolutely trustworthy' to the Slugs, even to the ones I'd never had a real conversation with yet, made me feel undeservingly good about myself.

  "I trust you know about my situation?" Phill asked Pauline.

  She thought. "Nothing that I'm am aware of", she finally said.

  "I am not a Slug, I am a Cyborg."

  Pauline gasped. "You are the other race? What are you doing here? How? Why?"

  "Must you pose so many queries in such a short space of time?" Phill asked, bored. I wondered if he put on a show of being bored, or if sentient machines can actually get bored. "All your mind needs to comprehend is that I am assisting your world. Ponder no further."

  "OK..." Pauline replied, uneasily. She seemed to me to be reconsidering her choice in coming here. Perhaps she was in over her head. I sh
ould tell her later that the trick was to not try and learn everything at once, but rather learn it in batches.

  "So, Paul", Boy began.

  "What did you call me?" she asked, newly horrified.

  "Paul. A shortening of your full name, Pauline. Humans do this all the time, don't they?"

  "No, Boy", Matthew told him. "You don't shorten a woman's name to become a man's name. Paul is a guy name."

  "What? Why make a female name that can be shortened to a male name? Absurd!"

  "And yet, true. So, Pauline, what would you like to know?" he asked nicely. It looked to me like he was trying to be nice to the newcomer, but then I realised that he was like an interpreter. An interpreter between species, not of translating language, but of translating customs and traditions and ways of life. He was the go-between between the humans and the Slugs. This fact amazed me, but I'm not sure why.

  "Well, for starters..." I sensed she was getting into her biologist mode. "... What is your anatomy? Your blood? How to you eat, breath, live?"

  "I would like to refer you to Phill's earlier statement", Matthew said, amused. "When you replay the tape you have in your pocket tonight, note what he said." Pauline blushed at having been caught out recording their conversation. Matt looked astonished. "Wait, you actually have a recorder? I seriously just guessed that."

  She blushed more. "Yes. For further research and... posterity."

  "Very well", he replied. He turned to me. "Ethan. Do you remember what colour my 'blood' was that day I was stabbed?"

  "It was..." I remembered all too clearly. "Purple. You had purple blood."

  "Yes, well I call it slime."

  "Boy told me that. Way to continue on with the Slug thing."

  "Thank you. The thing is, we Slugs do not have blood, we have only slime. Our insides are filled with a, well, a slimy medium, fluid-like but still solidy. If that's a word. Our exteriors are pretty much the same material, but more durable. That purple 'blood' you saw was simply this slime, an inner-flesh if you will."

  "What if I don't?" asked Carmen suddenly. I was astonished that she spoke, as I'd never heard her before. It felt as if each of the five Slugs who did not know Matthew well enough to completely trust his way of life, like what Boy did, were slowly beginning to integrate themselves into the group. I would like to get to know all of them, although they all did seem to have similar personalities.

  "What do you mean?" Matthew asked her.

  "You said 'inner-flesh if you will'. But what if I don't? What if I will not?"

  "Uhh", Matthew began, understanding her confusion. "It doesn't actually mean if you will do something, it's just a saying. Don't worry about it. Anyway", he turned back to me. I noticed Pauline had moved closer to me to be part of what Matt was saying, as he only seemed to be talking to me. "We are filled with slime, and we don't have blood. So how do we get oxygen around our body, you may ask."

  "Clearly, that was not asked", Phill commented. Pauline cringed away from his voice; she looked afraid of him.

  "It's a saying, you drongo", Matthew told him light-heartedly. No one seemed to know what 'drongo' meant, although I assumed it was some kind of insult. "Anyway take two. We supply our body with oxygen by absorbing it through our skin. So why do we breath, you may ask." He looked at Phill, daring him to interrupt, but he said nothing. Matthew continued, "Back on our world, Slugenis, the oxygen content of the atmosphere is much higher than on Earth. Therefore, the absorption of oxygen through the skin - although technically it's not skin - is enough to supply us. Here, however, it is not enough. We must breath, and distribute the oxygen from the insides of our bodies, as well as absorbing it from the outside to avoid suffocation." He took a deep breath, as if to prove the point. "Oh, and it's also needed for talking."

  "I was told you were stranded here with no equipment", Pauline started, after a moment's pause. "How did you adapt yourself to be able to breath if you never had to before?"

  "With patience and perseverance", Boy told her proudly. Yes, he was definitely now on 'our' side.

  "Boy flatters me", Matthew blushed. Was that natural, or did he do it to convey his appreciation of the compliment? Some things, I'd never know. "But, it is true, no ordinary Slug can accomplish such a feat. You need a really good reason."

  "And your reason was?"

  "To stay alive", he answered with significance.

  "Uh-huh", Pauline muttered thoughtfully.

  "Anything else you want to know?" William asked rudely. He really didn't like her.

  "Not for now, thank you. I'll have to report this to my superiors, but I'll return later."

  "Good", Jason muttered. "We have work to do, if you don't mind."

  "Of course I do", she started, and begun to justify herself, but was interrupted by Phill.

  "Then leave!" he roared at her, taking a large, menacing step in her direction. She cried out and fled the room. Phill turned at Jason and William, "That's how you do it." They gave somewhat smiles. I was beginning to notice the Slugs start to trust Phill, which was strange since they were supposed to be mortal enemies and everything. It was a good thing though; we needed all the help we could get, and having little civil wars in our group would hinder us. I could feel the shapings of a plan begin to form; our main defences were set, we knew exactly what was coming, and we had the assistance of three different species, even though one wasn't really doing much. We just might have a shot.