Chapter: Epilogue - Home, prison and salvation
The Human
"OK, everyone ready?" Matthew had asked.
"Yep", I'd answered.
"Definitely", Boy had said, a new arm having recently replaced his stump, although he was shorter now. Slug healing.
"Yes", was Frank's reply, the exterior of the hole in his chest closed in long ago. Damn Slug healing.
"Correct", Phill had also replied.
"Sure", from Carmen.
"Urrrgh", Rosetta had uttered. She'd been sitting up with the rest of us, but looked kind of... sick. Not pale or anything, but just... off. Her basic humanoid shape wasn't clearly defined, like her arms weren't exactly the proper shape. Her clothes were no longer in tatters though; all of the Slugs have somehow managed to procure new clothes for themselves.
"Excellent!" Matt had exclaimed. "We're leaving in a few minutes. Settle in."
We were in the Slug's scout ship, the medium-sized ship with the smaller transport ship stored inside it. It wasn't exactly large, but it was very open and there was quite a bit of moving space. Most of the ship seemed to be dedicated to storing the smaller ship and containing the massive... drive core thingy. Whatever Slugs called them.
Boy told me that we would spend a while travelling towards the interstellar ship, which still orbited Jupiter. He also told me that the living space in that ship was the same size as this one. It was at that point that I resigned myself to spending the next few weeks cramped in the same room as everyone else.
Matt had explained to me earlier - after I'd asked how their artificial gravity machines worked - that the ship would rotate in space to create the Earth amount of gravity, and that its forward momentum would create another source of gravity. Something about inertia and centrifugal forces; I wasn't too concerned with how it worked, as long as it actually worked.
What I thought was quite strange was that the area we were in was shaped like the inside of a cylinder; instead of walls and a roof, the ground was curved, and extended all the way up the wall and roof until it met itself at the other end. The two end points of the cylinder were flat surfaces. It was like we were sitting inside a huge cardboard roll with flat ends. If this had any purpose, it escaped me.
And, instead of proper seats, they just had these concave dishes set in the ground at regular intervals. There were straps attached to the floor on either side of the dishes. They looked like some kind of strange seatbelt. Essentially, that's all they were; bowls. We were actually supposed to sit in them. And, just in case I was a weirdo and liked sitting in miniature radar dishes, each had a protruding spike extending diagonally up, just off the middle of the curve. There was no way I was sitting in that, and Matthew had to fashion me a new seatbelt up against the wall of the entry, as well as for Phill.
We all just sat there idly, talking about random stuff. Matt, Boy and Frank were discussing Rosetta's health, which, while not great, was improving. It appeared she was still postponing her decision on whether or not she wanted to die.
Meanwhile, Carmen, Phill and I were wondering what Slugenis would be like. I'd never been there, Phill had been built to hate it, and Carmen was last there ten years ago. Needless to say, we all had pretty different ideas.
I hoped more than thought that it would be full of majestic and sleek skyscrapers, with flying cars and other advanced stuff. Carmen looked at me cynically and told me that although she hadn't been there in over half my lifetime, it wouldn't have changed that much. Most of it was barren, she explained, with the main cities and dwellings at the poles where the water and cold collected. Apparently, however, it was still going to be uncomfortably hot there for me. Great.
And there we were, minding our own business talking, when the ship decided to take off. Well, technically one of the Slugs would have done something to initiate it, but it took off with no mind as to what I was doing. And, just to confuse me more, I couldn't see a single button or control panel of any kind, anywhere around the ship.
I'd at first been flabbergasted that the ship had no windows to the outside. No glass to admire the beauty of nearby planets or stars or nebulae or anything. There was a big flat, black screen at the front, opposite the flat end we'd entered through, with some kind of projected diagrams and meters on it, but that was it. Nothing more. What kind of sci-fi ship was this? Now I'd get no epic moment of looking back at the Earth!
When I'd complained to Matt, he'd told me I could still get my epic moment, and pointed me to a small orange dot on the corner of the screen, explaining that that was Earth. It was slightly underwhelming that my entire planet and race's existence was reduced to a single dot on a large screen.
So, the ship had taken off. Massive mostly-purple cables that nobody had bothered to hide in the ship's walls and architecture throbbed and pulsed slightly, with a wacky bright colour scheme I couldn't decipher (for the ones that weren't purple, that is). After much rocking and vibrating (corresponding to me closing my eyes), I'd gotten my 'epic' moment of watching us depart the Earth by watching the little orange dot get further and further away from the centre of its little area. Once it got off the screen, the small section devoted to its location reset with it in the middle. It now moved away more slowly. I deduced, with my great intelligence, that it was some kind of map, showing the position of the Earth relative to us. Once we'd gotten far enough away, it had reset with a greater scale to remain relevant. Its reset had been accompanied by a dash appearing above it.
As I sat there, watching the dot move slowly away from the centre, only for the map to reset itself again, now with a second dash to accompany the first, I started to realise what that dot - my planet - had meant to all of us. To me, it had been home. It would always be home, I think, even if I never returned. To Phill, it had been his prison, the place where he'd been defeated and confined for twenty years. Surely he wouldn't miss it. To Matthew, it was his, well, his salvation. The planet that taught him how to want to live and fight to live, like a normal organism. And to Boy, Frank, Carmen and Rosetta, and even Jason and William before they died, I supposed it was some form of salvation for them as well. A small errand which had turned into the learning experience of a lifetime. That's what Earth was; home, prison and salvation. It amazed me that a plain orange dot could mean so many different things.
And so, that was my final view of my planet, at least for almost thirty of its years. I felt like I had to say something, something to say goodbye. Nothing inspirational came, however, so I settled for the mundane, "Goodbye, Earth. I'll miss you, more than you'll know."
The Cyborg
"Okay, everyone ready?" Matthew had asked.
Everyone went through various responses, although they all meant a unanimous 'yes'.
"Excellent!" Matt had exclaimed. "We're leaving in a few minutes. Settle in."
We were already settled in, but I glimpsed Ethan squirm a bit on the ground. Matthew had ripped out some restraining straps, and tied him up against one of the walls, where the curvature of the ship met its flat end, so he could sit on a flat surface. I was subject to the same arrangement.
I was no longer an absolute mess of a Cyborg. It turned out that Matt had kept most of the pieces of the first Cyborg he'd killed. He dragged the remains of the carcass - although, not technically a carcass - out, and he and the Slugs helped me replace my major replaceable parts. I was now capable of walking under my own power again. Moving independently again. That was good.
Ethan, Carmen and I had initiated a conversation about our expectations of Slugenis. For my part, I'd never planned to go there apart from to win the war and kill all the Slugs for good. I suppose such a view led me to imagine it as a vile place, full of disgusting organics occupied with inefficient and pathetic endeavours. My views had somewhat... changed from those times. Although I doubted it would be the stereotypical 'cities of majestic and sleek skyscrapers' that Ethan had proposed. Carmen's memory had seemed more accurate; no sense developing barren lands on one planet when
there were plenty of other promising planets to cultivate.
It was during this conversation that the ship took off.
Large cables began to hum, and I deduced that they performed a variety of functions, such as maintaining the large display at the forefront of the ship. Oh, and of course, helped to produce and distribute food, water and oxygen. Although I didn't need them.
In one corner of the screen, a small 2-dimensional map, assuming an arbitrary 'up' direction, displayed the nearest significant object, Earth, as a small orange dot moving steadily away from the centre, us. Once the bounds of the 'map' had been reached, it expanded its scale, bringing the dot back to the middle to restart its slow retreat. A small dash above the section indicated the level of zoom.
I saw Ethan watching it intently, and following his gaze, I began to contemplate it too. Such a small, insignificant dot, a little speckle in the vastness of space. This was surely true; but contemplation got the better of me.
I considered;
Such a small, insignificant dot to be sure, truly unremarkable in the overall arch of the universe. Yet, so important, so... thriving. In a way, it was its own universe. To people like Ethan, or perhaps to people unlike Ethan, that projected spot, that Earth, was their entire universe. They were born on it, they lived on it, they would die on it. Who's to say the Cyborgs' or the Slugs' universe is any grander?
Sure, it was bigger, but relatively bigger? We were confined to the regions in our galaxy that were easily accessible. We'd expanded to the edges of these regions, claiming space and worlds as if it were a game board. Exactly what the Humans had done, except on a smaller scale. While they claimed and fortified sections of land and sea, we claimed and fortified sections of space and time. Although time could never really be claimed, as I fully knew.
They'd expanded to fill their world, their universe. As had we. Therefore, each race, assuming the Slugs and Cyborgs as a single entity, had branched out to occupy everything within their reach. Nothing and nowhere was exempt. Therefore, the two were relatively equal; we had filled up our sections, they'd filled theirs. Each now occupied what was, to them, the limits of the universe. Each occupied their own universe.
So, we space-faring nations had no right to say that they lived alone, on an insignificant dot, with no bearing on anything important. To them, they lived connected to everyone, thriving and prospering in their massive world, the only thing that was important. Their own universe. Perhaps there was some great cross-galactic race that looked at the Slugs and Cyborgs, and pitied us for living only in a chunk of a single galaxy. Did they consider our entire worlds, our universe, our war to be insignificant? Puny? Perhaps.
Such unanswerable questions flickered through my processes as I watched the Earth's display repeat the cycle of exceed the bounds of the map, reset back to the middle, exceed the bounds of the map, reset back to the middle. In more ways than one, Earth was my prison. Yet it was so much more; yes, Earth was my prison, but it was also the place that opened my mind. Nothing it could ever do to me would undermine that.
I heard Ethan mutter, "Goodbye, Earth. I'll miss you, more than you'll know."
This fit in so well with my thoughts that I had to add to it. "Goodbye from me, Earth. I'll miss you too, more than anyone will ever know."
The Slug
'OK, everyone ready?' I'd asked.
'Yep', Ethan had answered, followed by Boy, Frank, Phill and Carmen.
'Definitely.'
'Yes.'
'Correct.'
'Sure.'
Rosetta had just groaned. It's not like her injuries actually hurt her, so I couldn't decide why she seemed to be in pain.
We were ready to go. 'Excellent!' I said back. 'We're leaving in a few minutes. Settle in.'
Everyone was already strapped in and ready to go; I'd said that to try and imply "get ready to leave Earth". I wondered if anyone got it. Initiating the takeoff sequence, I continued my conversation with Frank and Boy regarding Rosetta.
'How is she going?' I asked quietly, wondering if the Slug in question could hear me.
'I think that she'll make it', Frank said confidently. 'She's already healed through the worst of it. She should be fine.'
'Excellent', I said again. I secretly thought that it had nothing to do with her wounds, but with her mindset. That's where the real battle was.
'It appears that that Human you picked up worked a wonder with her', Boy commented.
'It appears so', I replied as the ship lifted off, hoping he couldn't hear the fervent agreement in my voice. Rosetta had yet to request death again. It appeared that she finally understood everything now, that Ethan had got through to her when I couldn't. As if I needed more evidence of my inferiority to the Human race. Were it not for him, I would have failed one of my friends.
After we'd exited the atmosphere and entered true space, I turned and saw Ethan regarding the small part of the screen that served as a low-tech proximity map. It appears that he'd taken my comment for his epic moment to heart. But he, and even Phill for that matter, were staring at it so intensely that I couldn't help but see what all the fuss was about, and had to look for myself.
It was about nothing. It was just a dot, showing the location of Earth relative to us. As we pulled away from the planet, it was reflected in the map. Low-tech, maybe, but insanely useful.
Yes, a small, orange dot. Meaningless, it was. But then I was assailed with a wave of guilt. This was the planet that had sheltered me, that had taught me the meaning of life. I could never regard such a momentous aspect of my life as "meaningless". Surely, that was a Phill response, to think of something as relatively small as the Earth as insignificant. But to me, it was everything.
I forced myself to look back over all it had taught me, all it had given me. I'd broken free of the appalling Honour system, learnt the meaning of life. The meaning of life was perhaps the most important thing I'd ever learned, because of its simultaneous simplicity and truthfulness. The meaning of life was to live.
And that blue-green planet, now depicted as an orange dot that failed to capture its glory, had spawned Ethan. The person that had befriended me, and passed off my strangeness as a personality trait. Perhaps one that he admired.
And, of course, the Earth had converted every Slug that visited it to my way of thinking. Mostly. It even changed a Cyborg! In my mind, no other world contains the same amount of significance and power as that deceptively small orb. It was everything; truly it was my saviour, my freedom. My salvation. Without it, I'd be either dead or truly mindless. The fact that it saved me from such a fate proves that designation. Salvation. An appropriate word for what it had done. Very appropriate.
Cutting through my musings, Ethan said, half to himself, 'Goodbye, Earth. I'll miss you, more than you'll know.'
Phill surprised me by replying, 'Goodbye from me, Earth. I'll miss you too, more than anyone will ever know.'
OK, now, I couldn't let those two say something without a word from me. So I tried to upscale them but remain emotional with, 'To Earth: the greatest and most underrated planet that ever formed from the corpse of a star.'
The Human
And so, that was my final view of my planet, at least for almost thirty of its years. I felt like I had to say something, something to say goodbye. Nothing inspirational came, however, so I settled for the mundane, "Goodbye, Earth. I'll miss you, more than you'll know."
Suddenly, Phill felt the need to add to that, "Goodbye from me, Earth. I'll miss you too, more than anyone will ever know."
And of course, Matthew had something to say. "To Earth: the greatest and most underrated planet that ever formed from the corpse of a star."
That earned him a nod from both Phill and me. A well-deserved nod as well.
And, home, prison and salvation though it was, the little orange dot exceeded the bounds of the map once more. And this time, it didn't reappear in the centre.
###
Wow, you reached the end! Or did you jus
t cheat, and scroll all the way down here? Huh? Did you?
Well, I’ll just give you the benefit of the doubt, and assume that you’ve gathered the inner stamina and courage required to read the whole thing. In that case, I take my imaginary hat off to you. You won’t get any more than that; I don’t wear hats very often.
Now, it’s time to pat yourself on the back. Yeah, that felt good didn’t it? Didn't it? Because you deserved it. Assuming that you didn't cheat, that is. If you did, you should feel very bad that I just took my imaginary hat off to you, because you didn't earn that privilege.
About the series though. The Slug Rebellion is actually the first book in a planned series of three. Why three, you ask? Because three is my favourite number. That is literally the main reason. Plus, trilogies are always awesome.
Having already (supposedly) finished the first book, I'm sure you're clamouring to get your hands on the next one. Either that, or you hated this so much, you just want to get the next one so you can justify your hatred. Whatever works for you.
So be on the lookout for The Slug Invasion (or dutifully ignore it should you ever see it), which is book two. Ohh, it's called 'The Slug Invasion'! What could it possibly be about? I'm not sure why I'm asking this, since I already know. But you don't.
So maybe I should give you a sample chapter here! Then you'd know what it was about. Wouldn't that be great? But no. I won't. Bam.
You may not have been conscious of it, but there was a tiny glimmer of hope in the core of your soul right then. Which I just extinguished. Double bam.
I'd go through the customary thanking you for reading and supporting my work, and blah blah this, and blah blah that, but I figure that readers get thanked for our hard work of reading so often, we ought to be earning some money out of it. So I'll just settle with a… good on you. Good on you indeed.
The Slug Rebellion Page 12
