The Slug Inception
Page 5
Chapter 4 - The 5th launch
The Human
I yawned just as we arrived at a nearby carriage station. This one was much more modest than the huge one that was next door to the spaceport, which had dozens of tracks and much more empty carriages waiting for passengers. This one had only three tracks, each of which held four stationary carriages of the three different sizes.
"Well, get in", Matthew said.
"Very well", Phill replied, as if we hadn't yet decided that we were going to take a carriage.
We all shuffled into one of the large ones, which was a bit big for just the five of us. "Can't we fit in a medium one?" I asked.
"Probably", Boy told me. "But it would be a tight fit, especially for you and Phill who have no dishes to sit on. We're better off just taking this one."
"If you say so", I said as I took one of the corners inside the carriage and quickly positioned myself before the door could close. Once it did, I wouldn't be able to see a thing inside the transport, but at least it was cooler in here compared to outside.
"So, Ethan", Boy began after the carriage had taken off (and had commenced trying to frighten the living daylights out of me). "What did you think of the breeding facility, since we're going back there?"
"To tell the truth", I said, "it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought. I was kind of imagining some horrible place full of test tubes and laboratory equipment and pipes and disgusting fluids."
"Why?" Carmen asked me. "Are those things normally present during human births?"
"Hah", Matt said. "No, but no doubt you guys would find what is there much more disgusting."
"From what I already know of it", Boy said, "I don't want to know anymore."
"It is not only the humans who undergo such a birthing process on Earth", Phill commented.
"Maybe not", Boy told him, "but I still don't want to know anymore about it. Ethan, ask some other question and change the topic."
"What the hell is the deal with all this purple?" I quickly asked.
"Aha!" Matthew shouted, and I think I heard him pump his fist in the air. "So you have picked up on the fact that there's more on going there than you know about."
"How long were you planning on keeping both Ethan and I uninformed?" asked Phill.
"For as long as humanly possible", Matt replied. "Or maybe for as long as Slugly possible. No, stick with humanly. It may be technically incorrect, but it sounds so much better. Anyway, I'm not telling you just now, because it would be a long conversation, and we don't have time to finish it in just this trip."
"That", Boy agreed, "and the fact that we've spent the last while explaining many other things to you. You cannot possibly hope to remember all of these things if we tell them to you in such a short space of time."
"I can", Phill said, and I couldn't tell if he meant to say it that arrogantly or not.
"I sure can't", I told everyone. "In fact, I forget most things you tell me. But I remember the important bits, which is good enough."
"I suppose", Matthew said. "But, go on, ask another question before we go back to talking about Earth's births. And yes, I rhymed that on purpose."
"OK, OK", I said, struggling to think of something. I was normally so good at finding plenty of things to ask about, so how hard could it be now that I was pressured to?
Hmmm. I actually couldn't think of anything at all, but luckily the carriage chose just then to take a turn (not a sharp one, but it sure feels like a jolt when you don't see it coming). "Ow", I complained when my elbow bumped a corner of its inside.
"Oh, don't whinge about that", Matt laughed. "It was just a little bump!"
"You should be thankful that the carriages do not turn frequently or abruptly and unexpectedly adjust their speed", Phill told me.
Matthew laughed again. "And by 'abruptly and unexpectedly adjust their speed', he means brake."
"Huh", I said thoughtfully. "Why don't the carriages ever have to brake? Actually, come to think of it, I don't think that they ever change their speed at all throughout the entire journey. Aren't there traffic lights and intersections and roundabouts or something?"
"Roundabouts!?" Matt spat out, as if he was incredulous that I'd say such a thing. What?
"That's simple", Carmen started to (helpfully) describe. "Slugapital's carriage network is controlled by a huge computer which coordinates each carriage in the city. So whenever someone gets in one and gives it their destination, the information is sent to this computer which calculates the best course to that destination."
"Yeah", I said, "but that doesn't explain why they travel at the same speed without ever speeding up or slowing down."
"If you waited a bit", Boy told me, "she was about to get to that part."
"Oh", I said. "Go on then."
"Thank you", Carmen went on. "What this computer also does is that it calculates the exact speed required for each individual carriage to travel at, to ensure that no carriages will ever occupy the same space at the same time. So say that there will be another carriage crossing over our track at some point in the future. In this case, it adjusts our speed precisely to make sure that we won't hit this other carriage."
"So you're saying", I said slowly, "that because the computer knows the exact course and speed of every carriage that's travelling, when a new one takes off it super-calculates what speed that should travel at so that it doesn't crash into any other carriage along its entire route?"
"That seems correct", Phill pointed out. "By combining destination and velocity calculations, a carriage crash at Slugapital seems impossible, assuming that the computer is functioning correctly."
"That is correct", Matthew told the darkness. "So there you have it, that's why we don't ever brake or change our speed - it's all already been plotted out for us. And definitely no roundabouts. Quite nifty, huh?"
"It is indeed nifty", Phill agreed. I heard Matt chuckle to himself at this, and I smiled at it well. Good old Phill.
And meanwhile, the carriage continued to hurtle down its track towards the reproduction plant, towards Frank and Rosetta, and towards the next generation of Slugs.
When the carriage finally stopped, I scrambled out into the sunlight only to be met with an instant searing sensation caused by that very same sun that I had just so recently craved. Yes, that's right; much to nobody's surprise, it was still hot. I mean, it looked like it should be early morning or late evening, judging by the star's low positioning. But no, it was still boiling hot. I'd hate to be at the planet's equator, where the sun rose high in the sky.
For some unknown reason, a deep part of my being wanted to me to look up at the clouds just then, just to see how they looked. As usual, however, there was just one super-cloud, off in the distance somewhere, pocked with holes. I wasn't quite sure what it was, but as much as I loved all the new sights that alien planets had to offer, nothing had come close to Earth when it came to clouds.
Apart from that, after I'd finished stumbling around in the sudden and not-quite-unforeseen heat, I got my bearings and looked up to see the huge building that Boy, Phill, Carmen and I had so recently visited. It was the Slug reproduction plant, and it hadn't changed a bit. Which didn't surprise me at all, seeing as how I only saw it a few hours ago.
"Alright, let's make this snappy", I said to everyone. "I've been awake for ages now, and I feel like I really need to have a long sleep."
"Agreed", Matthew said. "But tomorrow - or after our sleep - we'll be leaving Slugenis, so if there's anything else you wanna see, say so now."
"Not at the moment", I replied, and we all approached the building.
Once inside, we didn't have to move past the first administration-like area, because Frank and Rosetta were already there. They were seated in two adjacent dishes against the wall, and when they saw us they motioned us over.
Hurrying towards them, I said, "Frank! Rosetta! How have you guys been? We've missed you."
"And us you", Rosetta agreed warmly. Out of the corner of my
vision, I saw Matthew give a strange smile, but when I turned to look at him, it was a normal friendly one.
"How goes the operation?" he asked.
"Perfectly", Frank answered. "The order from the Slug King will be followed, and one hundred new Slugs will be prepared to be formed without being impressed with Honour."
"Jeez", Matt said. "I said a hundred as just a general ballpark figure, not as a precise number to use. But, whatever, it'll do fine."
"Can we see the new Slugs?" I asked.
"Sure", Rosetta told me. "Although they haven't actually been individually formed yet, and won't be for some time. Has Boy explained all of this to you?" I nodded, and she continued. "What I mean is, they're all still a part of the larger mass of slime. Their individual slime hasn't yet been separated and taken to their..." She floundered for a word.
"I called it an incubation chamber", Boy supplied.
"Incubation chambers", Rosetta finished.
"Oh", I said. "Well, can we have another look anyway?"
"What will that accomplish?" asked Phill.
"Giving us a look", I glared at him in a way that I hoped said 'just-humour-me'.
"Very well", Matthew said, and he led us down the same hallway that I'd only just recently gone down. I noted that both Rosetta and Frank stopped whatever important stuff they were doing in those dishes and followed us.
Before long, we were all lined up along the balcony in the big circular room, looking down at the huge pot of slowly swirling slime. I noticed once again that, rather than a uniform shade of purple like normal Slugs, this one was streaked with patterns of differing shades of violet that swirled around the larger mass of the slime as the whole volume revolved.
"Say, what's with all those patterns of purple?" I asked nobody in particular. "Why isn't it just a flat colour like normal slime is?"
"You can see patterns in it?" Matthew quickly turned and asked me, astonished.
"Yes", I answered slowly, narrowing my eyes at him.
"Interesting", he said quietly to himself. "We'll discuss this in due time. And if I forget remind me. But still... interesting."
"I think that we've seen enough here", Phill stated.
"What, aren't you interested by unformed Slugs?" I asked him, feigning aggravation.
"You are the one who complained of being tired", he casually pointed out, which made me look a bit like an idiot.
Matthew laughed at this, and said, "Perhaps Phill is right. We could all do with some sleep. Come along now, there's not much to see at the moment. Unfortunately, we'll be long gone by the time anything of importance happens here."
"Damn", I muttered as we all left the room once again. To tell the truth, the main reason why I wanted to stay in there was because the chilled room was very comfortable compared to the rest of the planet. It was probably warm by Earth standards, but on Slugenis, it was an oasis. I needed to set up my room in here or something. Actually, scratch that - I'd never be able to sleep knowing that a bunch of unborn Slugs were right next to me.
So we left the room, and got back to the administration lobby, or whatever it was that the Slugs called it. "Ummm", I said as a thought struck me. "Where are we going to sleep? Last time we slept in the King's house, but that's only because Matt was the temporary King. So now what?"
"I'm sure that the ambassadors will be happy for us to crash on their couches", Matthew shrugged.
"I doubt that they have couches", Phill complained.
"How do you intend to drive a car into their couches", Boy asked, "assuming that they have couches, and that we have cars. And for what purpose would you do this?"
"Obviously", Matthew told him in a highly exaggerated voice, "we'd do it because we don't like the look of their couches. And because we have spare cars hanging around to crash into things that we don't like. Obviously."
"That wasn't obvious", Phill stated.
"You're not obvious", Matthew shot back.
"Hah", Boy said. "That made no sense but it was still funny."
"You're funny", Phill gave a pitiful attempt to copy Matthew's strategy.
"Ahh, Phill, my young apprentice", Matt shook his head. "You have much to learn from your master before you can attempt such a challenging feat as a comeback."
By this time, we'd already left the building and were well on our way to the same nearby carriage station that Boy, Phill, Carmen and I had gone to the first time we were here.
"So we're going straight to sleep after this", I confirmed. "Cause I really am kind of tired."
"You're not yawning", Frank accused me, as if I was lying or something.
"Just because someone's not yawning, doesn't mean they're not tired", I told him. "That's not the only indicator."
Phill input, "I heard from my radio that finding it difficult to close one's eyelids is also a symptom of sleep-deprivation."
"Indeed it is", Matt said, "although I wouldn't know myself how that feels, not being a human and all. My eyelids are just thin layers of slime over my fake eyeballs. Besides, it's for the best - I hear that it can be quite difficult to drive a car when you can't keep your eyes open. It sounds dangerous."
"What if you were trying to drive into a couch?" Boy asked him.
"It'd still be kind of hard, I guess", I told him. "But what I want to know is, if your eyelids are just thin layers of slime, then how do you keep them closed while you're sleeping? Since you're not using a mental block."
I'm sure you haven't forgotten this (right?), but just in case, a mental block was a Slug device that's implanted in their bodies to send out a constant, reliable stream of messages to their slime. For almost all Slugs, it was used to keep their body's shape, since to keep slime in a certain configuration requires a constant flow of signals from the brain with these instructions.
In fact, Boy, Carmen, Frank, and Rosetta were right now all using mental blocks to force their slime to keep its human shape. As far as I knew, Matthew was the only Slug who didn't use a mental block - his slime stayed the way it was because he'd been consciously keeping it that way for over twenty years. I know that it sounds hard and all, but I had a feeling that actually keeping your focus for so long was very hard. I mean, he even did it while he was sleeping!
"Haha", Matthew revelled in explaining yet another example of how well adapted he was at feigning a human existence. "It works for the same reason that my entire body doesn't dissolve into a puddle while I'm sleeping. Once you've kept a certain shape long enough, it stays that way even while you're asleep, probably from your subconscious emulating the signals that you constantly send while awake."
"That doesn't sound possible", Frank said.
"Actually", Phill surprised us all by saying, "it may be. Does every Slug other than Matthew use a mental block?"
"Yes", Carmen answered him.
"Then it seems obvious to me", the Cyborg answered. "It is simply a revival of a function which was available to all primitive Slugs. My hypothesis draws its conclusion based on what would happen to a Slug when they slept in a time before any form of advanced technology."
At this point, we reached the station, and all filed into a carriage without anyone saying a word to interrupt Phill.
The Cyborg continued, "During that time, it is improbable that the Slugs would have their shape degraded to a puddle whenever they slept; it is therefore likely that they developed some way to allow themselves to keep their current shape whilst sleeping. This may be their subconscious mind continuing their wakeful signals, but the actual mechanism is irrelevant. The point is that they could.
"However, with the invention of mental blocks, and with the subsequent implanting of every Slug with this technology, such an organic function became unnecessary, and was therefore no longer used. With the Slug's habit of not recording their history, the ability was since forgotten.
"It was not until Matthew was stranded on Earth without these mental blocks that he needed to keep his shape while sleeping. It was thus he discovered that h
e was able to do so by using this primitive function which he didn't know he had, and which had not yet been bred out of the Slugs' genealogy."
By the time he finished, we were all in the carriage hurtling towards the ambassadors' houses, wherever they were. "Also interesting", Matthew mused. "You may be correct - in fact, I think that you are correct. This could explain another big problem I've been mulling over." I sensed him direct this next statement at me, despite the fact that I couldn't see a thing. "And don't ask about it now, cause I'm not telling! But, I think that Phill may have just solved it for me."
"You are welcome", Phill replied graciously, continuously pushing the boundaries between an organic and a machine. Well, in behaviour at least.
"Technology overriding our abilities to do things naturally", Boy said. "I suppose it makes sense."
"Well, whatever the case, I'm still tired", I said, and then gave a big yawn. "Aha! Hear that Frank? I yawned, so now you know that my sleepiness is legit."
"I believed you before", he told me. "There's no need to prove it."
"Oh", I said. "Well, I did anyway."
"Almost there", Rosetta announced. "Then we can get some sleep. I think that most of us are tired."
"Not me", Phill said, and I could've sworn he was smug about it. Stupid robot.
I willed myself to yawn again, just to further prove my tiredness (not sure why I wanted to do it, but, hey, I did), but I just couldn't. I then spent the rest of the trip fantasising about how much better my life would be if I had the ability to yawn at will. Yep - that would open up so many opportunities for me, for sure.
The Slug
'Oh, sunlight, how I've missed you!' Ethan cried dramatically as the carriage door opened and he rushed out. 'Ah!' he yelled soon after. 'It's hot!'
'Do you think he will ever learn that it's always hot here?' Boy asked me with a slight smirk. And by "slight smirk", I mean he almost smirked, but he didn't. Which is why it was only slight.
'I sure hope not', I grinned back. 'He's kind of endearing when he's like that.'
'I agree', Phill stated as he walked past us and exited the carriage. I smiled to myself at that, and also stepped onto the sidewalk. Once we'd all left the carriage, its door closed, and it took off towards whichever carriage station that the big computer decided was the perfect balance between how close it was and how much it was needed there to restock on empty carriages.
Meanwhile, we'd all exited in front of two Slug houses, which were nothing at all like normal Slug houses. In terms of their positioning. Slugapital, and Slug life in general, was a well-planned-out kind of living, where everything was built according to certain designs which were supposed to optimise efficiency and efficacy and some other words ending in "cy". Phill would be proud of it all.
So when one saw a house that was physically identical to all other houses but was in an unusual spot, they knew that it was special in some way. And it just so happened that, in this case, that one would be right. Because these houses are special. Because they were the Human ambassadors' houses.
Their unusual placement meant that the Humans had these built specifically for them; so they had gotten the red carpet treatment after all. There were two of them, and they were quite near the major spaceport that we usually arrived in Slugenis through, but they were also not too far from the Slug King's house. A perfect place for an ambassador to live, or so it seemed.
'Uhh', Ethan stammered. 'Which one should we knock on first?'
'I suggest the right one', Phill contributed.
'What makes you say that?' asked Rosetta.
'You weren't there', Phill informed her, 'but while we were traversing through the underground passageways of PDN, Matthew dictated every direction we made based purely on whatever subjective whim he had at the time.'
'Hahaha', I laughed. 'You failed to mention that my "subjective whims" got us all out of there safe and sound.'
'Except Terry', Ethan said, and I turned to him, expecting to see that depressed look he always got whenever someone's death was brought up. But instead of that usual expression, he had a thoughtful, indecisive one this time. Yet another interesting thing; they just kept coming today.
'In that case', Rosetta said, 'let's try the right one.'
We all strolled up to it without further argument - not that I couldn't have argued further if I'd had a mind to - and Frank raised his hand to place it in the spike near the door to request permission to enter. Only to find that the spike wasn't there.
There was a silence as every Slug in the group tried to process the fact that there was a Slug house without a spike. Freaky stuff.
'Now what?' asked Carmen, completely dumbfounded as to what to do.
'Obviously', Ethan said, and casually walked up and pounded his fist on the metal door. 'That's the Human way of sticking your hand into a spike', he explained.
'The brute force approach', Boy contemplated. 'It seems primitive, and could even injure you.' The door then opened. 'But I can't argue against its effectiveness', he finished.
'Welcome, what a pleasant surprise!' one of the female ambassadors greeted us. I didn't remember seeing her at all, which goes to show how poor my memory was when it came to recalling faces. But Slugs didn't have unique faces, as we could easily identify each other through other means, so I forgave myself. I forgive you Matthew. Oh, why thank you, Matthew, you're too kind.
'How's it going?' Ethan conversed with the other Human. 'I'm not sure how to say this, but we need a place to sleep, and there's really no other place to go. So, feel like lending us a favour? It's only for one night.'
'Of course, of course', she cried. 'No problem, come in!'
As she stepped back and allowed us in, I whispered to her on the way past in a threatening voice, 'There'd better be no problem.' At the confused and frightened look on her face, I laughed and quickly said, 'Don't worry, I only said that to try and freak you out.' The frightened part disappeared, but was only replaced with more confusion to pile onto the first pile of confusion.
We emerged into a standard Slug room, with the whole rain-catchment device and everything, except there were no dishes here. Boy summed up my thoughts by asking, 'Was this house built specifically for you?' Of course, he didn't sum up all of my thoughts; I probably would've asked "Was this house built specifically for you peeps?" That last word made all the difference. All the difference between a sentence with it and a sentence without it.
'Yes, it was', a man answered us. 'We have buttons on the inside and outside to open the door, and as you can see there are no Slug dishes. We have mattresses instead - '
'Ohhhh!' Ethan cried. 'Mattresses!' His face lit up like someone's face who's just discovered that there are mattresses and was very happy about it. 'You have no idea', he continued, 'how many nights I've spent sleeping on cold, hard, metal ground. I can't even remember what it was like sleeping in my bed back home on Earth.'
'Then by all means', the man said, 'take this one. I'm not tired right now, so I think I'll just move over to the other house where the others are. Janice, you coming?' he asked.
'Sure', the woman answered, and the only two Humans - apart from Ethan, that is - left the room. So, her name was Janice. For some reason, this discovery of her name struck me as significant, but I couldn't figure out why.
'Her name is Janice', Ethan mumbled to himself, which only further impressed the significance of me knowing her name upon me.
'That does seem important somehow', Carmen told Ethan.
'Janice', Boy impressed us all by also remembering it. 'It feels strange saying it.'
'Not thinking now', Ethan told everyone. 'Sleeping now. Time for thinking later.'
'The very fact that you said that proves that you are thinking now', Phill pointed out.
But Ethan had already collapsed onto the mattress, and for all I knew he was already fast asleep.
'Well', I'm gonna hit the sack too', I said. Boy gave me a confused look, but I felt that it was best to let h
im flounder for now with not knowing what that expression meant.
I also lay down on one of the other three mattresses. Like Ethan, it'd been a while since I'd slept in one, but I was a Slug, so I was cool with sleeping in both beds and dishes. One of the advantages of being an alien who spent a great deal of time on Earth.
'Well then', Frank told us all, 'it's time for everyone to enjoy some sleep. We'll all see each other again when we wake up.'
'That's the plan', I answered back and closed my eyes to enjoy yet another peaceful slumber in the long list of many peaceful slumbers that I'd had, all the while anticipating the mission that had been laid down before us. Well, it hadn't really been laid down just like that, since I was the one who'd come up with it, but I anticipated it all the same. While getting ready to enjoy my peaceful slumber, that is.
The Human
I had a really strange dream as I slept, and if I wanted to, I could give a lengthy and detailed description of it right here. But I figure that you don't particularly care about any random dreams of mine, so I won't bother with it. Suffice it to say that I dreamt I was the lock on a door. See? Strange.
I stretched on my mattress (there was a blanket, but I wasn't using it as the temperature was way too warm to need one), and gave a loud yawn. Shortly after this yawn, I came to the realisation that I was starving. It was always either thirsty, tired or hungry, my body always wanted something.
"You are awake", Phill quickly said, and succeeded in frightening the crap out of me.
I violently started, and then asked in a shaky voice, "Have you been watching me this whole time or something?"
"No", he answered, and smiled. "My active and passive senses have been disabled for some time, and it was only recently that I activated my hearing to monitor everyone's sleeping progress. When I heard you yawn, I activated my cameras and stated my supposition that you were awake."
"Oh", I answered. That was weird. "OK then." I paused for a second. "What did you mean by active and passive senses, by the way?"
He replied, "My four senses are either active, whereby I have to manually keep them operational, or passive, whereby I need merely interpret what they sense. My hearing and sense of touch are active senses, while my sight and network connection - the latter of which I lack, keep in mind - are passive senses."
"Huh", I said. "I'd never thought about how your senses worked, I just assumed that they were like mine and the Slugs'."
The Cyborg looked at me for a second before saying, "I should inform you that you are likely wrong on two counts - my senses work quite differently to any organics', and I would guess that the Slugs' senses work very differently to yours."
"Wouldn't surprise me", I mumbled, and got out of my mattress to go wake up the others.
For some weird alien reason, as I've already said, Slugs couldn't hear anything while they were sleeping. I had yet to ask Matt about that. Man, there were so many things I know I have to ask, but I just keep forgetting! It's very annoying when I can only remember these important things when its a bad time to bring them up.
Anyway, as far as I knew, the only way to wake a Slug was to shake them pretty hard, so I did this to Boy, who was closest to me. His eyes flashed open after a few seconds of this, and he got up.
"Good morning", I told him, "although I have no idea what time of day it is."
"Just because you have just woken up", Phill told me, "that is no reason to casually assume the current time to be morning."
"Yeah, whatever", I said back. "Why don't you help me wake everyone up instead of just sitting there doing nothing?"
"Very well", he replied, and moved over to Carmen, the closest Slug to him.
As I was shaking Frank awake, I saw Boy walk over to Matthew's prone form and touch him on the skin/slime of his neck with his finger, which caused Matt to quickly awaken. Wait, what? So Boy could just touch him and he woke up, but nobody would wake until I shook them like crazy?! Damn these Slugs sometimes, and my lack of understanding of them!
After everybody was up and about, Rosetta said, "Let's go and thank the humans for their hospitality in letting us use their house."
"Ahh, Rosetta", Matthew told her. "You are learning well about proper human etiquette. Much more than I can say for Phill, at any rate." He grinned at the Cyborg, who didn't respond.
"And while we're there", I added, "we can further infringe upon their hospitality by asking for food. I haven't eaten in ages."
"Let's go then", Boy said, which only further highlighted the fact that I hadn't seen a single non-Matt Slug actually eat anything before. If I had to guess, I'd say they got food out of their hollow spikes, just like they got fed water through it.
After we'd left the house and were making our way over to the other one, I noticed that the ground appeared kind of damp. "Why's everything wet?" I asked.
"It must have rained while we slept", Boy told me. "It doesn't happen very often, but it's still frequent enough." Looking up, I saw that the tip of a large cloud (a non-cool cloud, mind you) was just above us, which made sense, I suppose.
A short time later, we were in the other ambassadors' house. They'd let us in after we'd knocked, even though we'd seen the button which opened the door. 'Human etiquette once again', Matthew had said, and he was right, of course. It would be rude to just go barging in.
"Thank you for your hospitality", Rosetta quickly told them.
"In addition, could we have some food for Ethan?" Carmen asked.
"He requires sustenance", Phill added, as if this made us sound any less weird.
"Of course", one of the men out of the four people there told us after an awkward pause. "However, you should know that we live on an exclusively vegan diet while here. It's not like we can bring any livestock onto Slugenis!" He gave a nervous laugh. When no one else laughed, I smiled at him so he wouldn't feel too awkward, and he went on. "We do have a modest selection of vegetables, fruits and nuts though."
"Anything that won't make me sick?" I asked, sceptical. I sure wouldn't feel comfortable eating any of the Slugs' food, and I sure didn't want to know what it looked like.
"What?" the ambassador asked. "Oh, I see, you have it all wrong. The first ambassadorial group brought a large range of seeds with them, some of which we were able to grow here. We have foods such as carrots, strawberries, potatoes and salads."
"What?" I asked, my turn to be astonished. "You mean you can grow human food here?"
"As unlikely as it seems", Phill stated, "it is not too surprising. Both Slugenis and Earth are capable of sustaining carbon-based life forms, and as Earth has such a large and varied collection of vegetables, fruits and nuts, it should not be unforeseen that at least some of those foodstuffs are capable of being grown on Slugenis."
"Whatever kind of logic you try and apply to it", I told him, "I'm still very much surprised." I turned back to the man. "But I am kind of hungry, and if you guys are living off this food, than that's good enough for me."
"Then come this way", he beckoned me towards a corner of the room which contained some container-like thing. "We keep all the food that has been recently picked in here, which we bring in from its growing place behind our houses. The Slugs had to dig up a large patch of the city's ground for the first group that arrived here."
"Why did the other house not have one of these containers?" asked Frank.
"It's just easier to keep all the food in one place", one of the women told us. "In terms of sleeping, all of the men sleep in the other house, and the women sleep here. But other than that, we spend most of our time together, including having our meals in this room."
I'd already started shoving food into my mouth (I didn't normally have vegetables and stuff, but my stomach was too hungry to complain right now), but I still managed to ask, "Where do you go to the toilet?"
"There are several small outhouses outside", the man who answered the door told us. "We... still need our privacy." He gave another nervous laugh, and then kept quiet.
"Well then", Matthew said after swallowing what I thought may have been some cashews, but I really had no idea about nuts. "Thank you once again. You have been most generous towards us. However, it is time that we left Slugenis, and we won't be back for some time; we have some very important business to attend to, you see. We probably won't ever see each other again, so this is goodbye from us."
"And from us too", a different woman spoke this time. "We wish you luck for whatever important business you are going on."
"How can you wish us luck?" asked Rosetta, thoroughly confused.
"Don't mind her", I quickly covered the Slug before the woman could give her a weird look.
"Would you like some food to take with you?" one of them offered me.
I smiled at her, but I was really hoping she wouldn't give me that swamp-lettuce (it's not my fault - they were so bitter!). "I would like that, thank you very much."
After I'd stocked up, which increased the food supply in my backpack by quite a lot, Carmen told the ambassadors, "Try to make friends with some Slugs during the rest of your time here, if you haven't already. It will be good for you, of course, but..." She glanced at me and Phill. "Us Slugs don't realise how important having friends are until we have them."
"Fitting words", Boy nodded wistfully. "Fitting and true. Goodbye now."
We all waved to each other, and the seven of us left the room. As we marched towards the nearby spaceport, which wasn't far enough to justify taking a carriage there, I said, "They were pretty cool."
"That they were", Matt said. "Mainly because they gave us food. A very important factor in one's coolness rating."
"I've never given you food", Phill said stiffly, and I was amazed when I realised that he was fishing for a compliment. That sly dog.
Matthew happily obliged the greedy Cyborg. "Obviously", he said, "you are so high on all the other factors of coolness that you're in the highest possible rating without ever having given us food."
"What are these other factors?" Frank asked.
"Not telling!" Matthew yelled. "If I did, then you'd just intentionally increase those factors to make yourself cooler than Phill - don't think I don't know your plan!"
"I still think that they couldn't actually wish us luck", Rosetta mumbled, stuck up on it for some reason.
"In ordinary circumstances", Phill told her, "I'd agree with you. However, based on what our actual mission is, I suggest that you take the wished-upon luck regardless of whether or not you think it will actually do anything. It must surely be better than nothing."
As we continued to walk towards the main spaceport, I had a final look around at Slugenis. It was, after all, the last time that I would be on this planet for many years - well, at least many of its years. Yeah, space travel was weird like that - remember that if you zoomed through space fast enough, the passage of time aboard the ship slowed down compared to the rest of the universe. Pauline assured me a while ago that it was legit, but don't worry about it, I don't know how it works either.
"I'm gonna miss this place", I said out loud. "Not that it has anything endearing about it, but... it's an alien planet!"
"PDN is an alien planet", Phill informed me, "and that is our next destination."
"Yeah", Matt answered him for me, "but that's an enemy planet. Nothing like a friendly planet like Slugenis, eh?"
"I suppose", Boy said. "But I didn't mind PDN too much. In fact, I'm glad we're going back, since there are still some things that we don't know about it."
"Agreed", Phill stated.
"Quit complaining", I told them. "There's plenty I don't know about Slugenis, and nobody here has bothered to tell me."
"Pfft", Matt scoffed at me. "I've told you most things that you ask about. As for the things that you don't, it's not my responsibility to come to you with explanations for things you don't know that you want to know."
I thought about that for a second, and even though he was right, I wasn't about to admit it. "You sure do!" I shook my finger at him. "As a representative of the Slug race, it's not just your responsibility to explain Slugenis to me - it's your duty!"
"Fine then!" he yelled back, but he was affable about it. "It's time for you to learn about..." He cast his gaze about wildly, trying to find something to talk about.
When he still hadn't said anything after a pause, Phill asked, "How does Slugenis generate its electrical power?"
"Aha!" Matt shouted. "Capital question, my good Phill. I'm sure you're all wondering where Slugenis, or at least Slugapital, gets all of its electricity from. It's not like there are any power plants around here."
"I'm not wondering", Boy grinned at him. "I already know."
"You're a Slug", Matthew accused him, "you don't count. Anyway, for the people that do count, Slugapital, and I believe the majority of the planet too, gets most of its energy out of massive, underground geothermal plants."
"Oh, I've heard that word before!" I said. Hmmm... geothermal. I'd heard it somewhere, probably in school, and I'm giving an educated guess that it had something to do with geography and heat. Just a guess, really.
"You likely have", Matt told me, "but I'm not sure how similar our ones are to yours. Basically, underneath Slugapital - well, not directly underneath, a bit to the side if I recall - is this massive power station. And underneath this massive power station are two very massive drill holes that go deep down into the ground, far enough so that it is very hot at the bottom, and are connected at their bottom."
He paused for a breath (I took the opportunity to take a swig of water) and then continued. "Basically, what we do is this: we pump a lot of high-pressure liquid carbon dioxide down one hole. Once at the bottom, it gets very hot, converts into a gas due to this heat, and then rises pretty fast up through the other hole. So it's like a cycle of liquid down one hole, conversion at the bottom, and then gas up the other hole.
"Of course, this second hole is absolutely filled with turbines, which generate electricity when they turn. So when the gas rises, it pushes these blades, and because gas is always rising, each of the many blades is always turning, which provides us with a constant electricity source. And it's a lot, because these are deep holes, there are many big turbines in there, and they are revolving twenty-four-seven."
"Would not this large amount of carbon dioxide pollute your atmosphere, as the humans have done?" asked Phill.
"Hey!" I said. "It's not our fault, we didn't know what was going on at the time."
"Normally yes", Matthew answered Phill. "But we're a bit smarter with what we do with this gas." Thanks for that. He went on, "Now, near this power station is also a huge plant growing facility, near the surface and with a transparent roof. Remember those plants I was telling you about Ethan?" I nodded. "Well we got a lot of them, and a lot of other kinds of non-mobile life forms, all of which use photosynthesis or Slugenis' equivalent to get their food.
"So then, what we do is obvious - the gasified carbon dioxide that comes out of this power station is circulated several times throughout this big area, which means that a lot of it gets sucked up by the plants and other life forms by their natural processes. It isn't just ejected into the atmosphere with the attitude of 'Slugenis will look after it'."
"Look", I said, "you can't compare the policies of a twelve-thousand year old empire to us humans, who've only been in an industrial age for several hundred years."
"That is correct", Phill mercifully backed me up. "One could even consider it a marvel that the humans have managed to realise the reperc
ussions of their actions in so short a span of time."
"Heh", Boy chuckled. "Perhaps that's going a bit far."
"Whatever the case", Matthew said, "I've got one thing left to add. Actually, two things, the first being that humans have now been in an industrial age for a lot longer than the last time you were there, due to our space travels all over the place.
"Secondly, remember when I said that we use liquid carbon dioxide to pump down one hole for the conversion? Well, didn't you wonder where we got this from, and how we liquified it?"
"Actually no", I said honestly. "But now that you've mentioned it, of course I do."
"Well, then, let me ease your newly-created wonder", he announced. "We get our carbon dioxide supply from the massive greenhouse-like place, which is always full of the stuff as its being breathed in by the plants and such. However, it needs to be greatly cooled to turn into a liquid, which would take power. Of course, we want to use as little power as possible in the generation of power, so we don't cool it conventionally. Instead, we use a much more ingenious approach.
"What we do is this: we collect large amounts of this carbon dioxide, put it in a big special container that is capable of changing the heat absorption rate of its surface, and then load it in a special compartment of the next ship to leave Slugenis that has this special compartment. When that ship is in space, the compartment automatically ejects this container, which for now is a great absorber of heat. This means that all the heat inside the carbon dioxide is very quickly transferred to the vacuum of space, which as everyone knows is just about at absolute zero, or negative two hundred and seventy-three degrees Celsius - "
"Or approximately negative four hundred and sixty degrees Fahrenheit", Phill added.
Matthew gave a short laugh. "Yes, thank you Phill, for your assistance in clearing that up. We were all greatly confused by it. The point is, though, that the just about absolute zero of space flash-freezes the carbon dioxide into a solid. The container then parachutes down to Slugenis, guided by automatic systems, and changes to be a very poor absorber of heat and hence heat-proof, so the the carbon dioxide remains super-cooled.
"It is later gently exposed to Slugenis' normal heat until it melts into a liquid, and then re-pumped down the original drill hole to begin the process all over again. Bam!"
I thought about this for a bit, and then said, "So it's like a cycle of carbon dioxide. Liquid goes down one hole, gas comes up the other, then it flows over the plants so they can breath, then it goes off into space, becomes a solid from the super-cold, comes back and becomes a liquid, and then goes down the first hole all over again."
"That seems accurate", Phill said. "It seems a highly efficient system, at least in theory."
"Obviously, in practice, it is somewhat more complicated than that", Boy told him. "We can only give you the general idea of how it works, since none of us know the specifics of how these things actually work."
"Kind of like how you can know how a car works", Matthew said, "without really knowing everything about how it works. You know what I mean?" Heh - I had no idea how a car worked, but I was saying nothing.
"We're here", Frank said after his long vigil of silence. I looked around, startled, and realised that I hadn't been paying attention to where we were going while I was listening to Matt. Luckily the other Slugs were looking for me; I probably would've walked right past the spaceport if it was up to me. I know it's big and hard to miss and all, but trust me - I'd have found a way.
As we worked our way around to one of its entrances, I said to Matthew, "You know, after all that, you still haven't fulfilled your duty of coming to me with explanations of Slugenis."
"How so?" he replied, shocked.
"Well", I reasoned, "you didn't come to me with that explanation, Phill asked it of you. So it doesn't count."
"Why you - " he said.
Boy interrupted him with, "Perhaps we should concentrate on arranging our ships now. You can strangle him later."
Matthew laughed. "How did you know I planned to strangle him?"
"I just guessed", Boy shrugged.
"So are we just going to waltz in and take whatever ships we feel like?" I asked.
"Of course not", Rosetta told me. "This has all been planned out and organised from the moment the Slug King agreed with Matthew's plan."
"Well, I didn't know that!" I defended myself. "This is what I mean about not knowing stuff."
"You probably know more about the Slugs than any other human in existence", Phill told me. Well, I guess that maybe I did, assuming that I knew more than the ambassadors.
"Perhaps", I answered. "In either case, I can worry about that later. Right now we have a spaceship to find."
The Cyborg
The time had arrived for the 7 of us to leave Slugenis once again, and make our way to PD-0034:N for the 2nd time. Although our plan hinged on the continued existence of the Cyborg Archives' leader, Slob, I was unsure as the the probability of him being alive. I had yet to come up with a contingency plan should this be the case, but I planned to communicate this to our group when I did.
At present, we had just entered the Slugs' large spaceport. Boy had previously informed Ethan and myself that it seemed to have rained while the organics slept; as my hearing was disabled for most of this time, I had no first-hand evidence of this occurrence. However, it gave me cause to think; the spaceport had no roof, doubtless to facilitate the taking off and landing of Slug spacecraft. Slug ships, therefore, had to be immune to precipitation, as any rain that fell would fall directly onto them.
This was in contrast to Cyborg ships on worlds that were subjected to this weather phenomenon, which sheltered under cover when not in active use, and which only left that world when rain was not occurring.
"Okay, now what?" asked Ethan. "Are we going back in the same scout ship we always travel in?"
"Yes indeed", Matthew answered him. "But this time, we're not going in a star cruiser. We'll be in a special stealth interstellar ship, as I explained before."
"How does this stealth work?" the Human questioned.
"I'll tell you later", Matt said, "doing important stuff now."
I considered informing Ethan that I knew how the stealth function worked, as Cyborg ships operated in fundamentally the same way, but decided that he would likely not be happy if he knew that he was the only one of the group to not know. For this reason, I said nothing.
"Let us enter our ship now then", I suggested.
"Yes, let's", Frank agreed.
At his urging, we manually travelled to the section of the spaceport which contained our scout ship, the original ship that we'd first used. It stood in the same location and position as when we had landed some time ago. 'Some time ago' was the most accurate label I could give to the point in time in which we had arrived at Slugenis; as the planet lacked any formal method of keeping track of the elusive nature of time that could be interpreted by non-Slugs, we were left attempting to guess how much time had elapsed. A worrying problem.
"There's our ship", Ethan said. "What a beauty." I almost told him that I saw no beauty in such a ship, but elected not to do so when I realised that 'beauty' was a subjective term, and its use could therefore not be criticised by anyone other than the one who originally used the word.
Carmen appeared to agree with my first point, however, when she said, "It doesn't look so beautiful to me."
"That's cause you're not looking at it properly", the Human told her. "You gotta look at it with an artist's point of view. See the way that the entrance door is so flush with the rest of the ship? Just stare at that for a moment, and maybe you'll see."
"I still see nothing", Carmen seemed to pout. I judged that this was due to the fact that she had not stared at the sight for long enough, and so I endeavoured to attempt it. As I looked directly at the hatch, and took particular note of the fact that its outer edge was exactly level and smooth with the ship's exterior, I felt that I could almost see some aesthetic pl
easure to the spectacle.
However, I was unsure what the cause of this sensation was; was it because the production process was so flawless, or because I knew that the hatch must open even though it currently appeared as if such a thing would be impossible? Or was it simply because the plane of the doorway was so regular and uniform, and that was enough to lend it some amount of allure? With no way of knowing, I abandoned my thought processes regarding the matter; but I kept it logged that the scout ship was now, on some level, 'a beauty'.
"Anyway", Matthew interrupted Ethan's response to Carmen's lack of agreement, "it's time to head on in. We'll not be taking off for a bit, so get comfortable, fight for the window seat, you know the drill."
As we filed in, I realised that I was so desensitised to Matthew's eccentricities of manner and speech that I hadn't considered correcting him by commenting that space ships do not have windows. I did, however, have some confusion as to his usage of the phrase 'window seat', but I felt it best to not mention it.
Matt merged the slime of his hand with the spike just outside the exterior hatchway, and I noted that this spike was much thinner and shorter than the almost uniform size of spikes that populated the majority of Slug technology. Based on its location, I deduced that its smaller form was to reduce any adverse aerodynamic effects on the space ship during its ascent and descent through a planetary atmosphere.
The doorway promptly opened, sliding into a narrow, unseen groove inside the ship, which gave the appearance that the open space it created had always been there, and couldn't be closed. Our group followed Matt inside this small entrance-way, and once we were all enclosed within the confines of the ship, he placed his palm over another spike. The exterior door soon closed, followed shortly by the interior door just ahead of us opening.
Now that we had access to the interior of the ship, we all quickly strode inside it. Matthew sat himself down upon a dish without hesitation, and said to us, "Okay, organising important stuff now. No talking from me for a bit. Although I probably could talk, if I really wanted to... In fact, I'm doing that important stuff right now, and yet here I am, talking. Just like I said I wouldn't be. But, that's besides the point. No talking starting from... now."
As the rest of us waited for Matt to complete the aforementioned 'important stuff', I considered the amount of space travels I had spent with my friends. Our original flight had been when we left Earth after its defence and visited Slugenis for a brief period. We'd then travelled back to Earth, and then on to PDN where we defeated the Cyborg Archives' defenders. We were now back at Slugenis from there, and were about to go back to PDN for the second time. This, therefore, was the 5th launch of our group as a whole, and it didn't surprise me to learn that I was in no way tired of the event.
"You know", Ethan pondered, cutting short my processes, "living in Slug space ships is starting to grow on me. I've actually spent more time out in space on an alien ship than I have on any alien planet. In our time, the aboard-ship time, that is." It seemed that he, too, did not mind spending time in space with his friends. In addition, I concurred with his clarification of the specific level of time he was referring to; the nature of time sometimes called for specification such as this.
"Yes, you have", Rosetta told him, now also seated in a dish. "But I don't see why; it's not very exciting in these ships compared to our adventures on planets."
"Hah", Ethan scoffed. "By 'adventures', you mean 'people trying their very best to kill us'? And besides, even if it's not as exciting as at other times, at least on a ship out in space there's no excuse not to answer my big questions." He looked pointedly at Matthew when he said this; and although the Slug's eyes were closed, I perceived a smile upon his lips.
"I've always wondered", Carmen said slowly. "Why did Humans name space, 'space'? It's such a lifeless word that doesn't capture the vastness and intricacies of the real space." I did not believe that something as arbitrary as a word could be described as 'lifeless', and yet I understood what Carmen was trying to say by her use of the term.
"I suppose", Frank answered her, "that it was meant to capture the vast emptiness of space, and how plain and uninteresting most of it is. It's just like an empty space."
"But it's not empty", Carmen retorted, "it's full of planets and moons and stars and galaxies and all sorts of things."
"You forget black holes, nebulae, dwarf planets, asteroids and any belts they may form, meteors, and clouds of gases", I informed her. "You also failed to mention the many varied types of these categories. For instance, planets can have any number of different internal and external configurations, can be dwarf planets, can have planetary rings, and vary in a large number of other variables. As a 2nd example, stars can be red, blue, yellow, white, neutron, binary, or other types that I do not possess knowledge of.
"Of course, this is only counting those things in space that we can see. Things such as solar radiation, forces of gravity and electromagnetism, and even some special types of particles that we Cyborgs know nothing of and yet the Humans suspect exist."
"So you agree that the word does not cover the real thing?" Carmen asked me.
I shook my head solemnly, the Human signal of regretful disagreement. "However, as full as space may be of all the things the 2 of us just mentioned, as far as we know the vast majority of it is still empty. For this reason, I would say that the word 'space' is appropriate as it encapsulates the most common part of space; its emptiness, as least from what we can perceive and understand."
After a short pause, which I estimated to be 3.5 seconds long, Carmen shook her head back at me in a slow manner, yet her smile contrasted the meaning it otherwise would have conveyed. "Why is it that you are always able to persuade me of your opinions, no matter how much I originally believe I am right?"
"Why?" came from Matthew, his eyes still closed. "Has this happened before?" I detected an amount of tension in his voice, as if he believed that his question was one of significance.
"As a matter of fact, yes", Carmen answered him thoughtfully. "Phil once convinced me not to do something that I planned on doing, something that I later would have regretted. For many reasons."
Matthew's face broke into a huge smile at this, and he opened his eyes and looked directly at me. "That's our Phil, always doing his best to help our little community see the light."
I wasn't sure what he was referring to, but I felt that I knew what Carmen was - she had once, long ago, entertained the thought of mutiny against Matthew, and I had convinced her to disband that course of action. Did this mean that Matthew knew what had happened back then? Did Carmen tell him afterwards of what she had planned at the time? Her vague allusions to the event indicated that she believed that Matt didn't know; but Matt's attitude suggested that he did.
This was perhaps an example of something which time would not inform me of; but for everything that time took away, it gave something back. In my case, this came about because I knew that my actions back then and since then had earned not only Carmen's but all of my friends' regard; and that was good.
The Human
And so there we were, back in space. I hadn't been in an interstellar ship in some time, so it was good going back to one again after all the starcruisers I'd been on. We'd left Slugenis some time ago (I've no idea technically how long, so don't ask me, but it was three sleeps ago), and were well on our way to PDN. For the second time. But at least we didn't have hostile intentions this time, so it wasn't so bad.
As I reflected on the time we'd spent on Slugenis, I remembered that I'd gotten a promise that we'd stay there a lot longer this time around. The problem was, even though it felt like a long time, from all the walking we did and all the stuff I learned (most of which was now forgotten - don't blame me, blame my brain), we actually weren't there that long at all. It couldn't have been more than two days. Well, at least it was much cooler (as in temperature) aboard the ship. That was something.
Anyway, ever since I'd remembered to do so, I'd been w
aiting for everyone to be up and ready at the same time so I could ask some important questions (namely, the purple thing). And now was a good opportunity to do so.
"All right people", I began. "I think that it's time I received an explanation which has long been owed to me."
"Of course", Phill told me. "You want a complete explanation of how the Slugs' various senses work, so that you can test my hypothesis that they are quite dissimilar to your own."
"No, that not what I - ", I tried to say, but Matt was having none of it.
"Excellent question!" he said. "Everyone gather round, it's time for a group discussion about senses!"
"But I - ", I gave another attempt to change the subject as everyone came over to sit in a circle (two sides of the circle rose up with the curvature of the ship).
"It seems to me", Matthew interrupted me again, "that Ethan doesn't want to know about our senses. He'd rather just do nothing, apparently."
He gave me a huge grin at this, which pretty much told me that he knew exactly what he was doing. I didn't know why he was so anxious to stall the purple explanation - probably just because he knew it annoyed me - but, meh. I suppose that senses would be fine. For now.
"Fine", I said. "Hit me."
"We're not going to hit you", Boy told me seriously, which led to the assumption that he'd never played 21 before (also known as blackjack in some places, Phill would be proud of me for saying). For some reason, I was not surprised at this.
"OK, which sense do you want to start with?" Matt asked me.
"Well, the whole Slug communication thing counts as a sense doesn't it?" He shrugged his shoulders, which I assume meant 'I suppose'. "Cause I already know about that. And I think that you've once told me something about how your brain has certain sections on its surface that can directly interpret light..."
I trailed off, not knowing what else to say. Well, what would you say if someone offered to explain how their senses worked?
"Since he already knows about communications and sight", Boy suggested, "let's start with our sense of touch. Now, you remember how each of our slime cells has an inner and outer wall?"
"Yeah", I said.
"Well our sense of touch is pretty simple. You see, our cells know when they are on the outside of their body. This is so they know if they need to perform some important processes, such as changing their absorption rates of various things, or release special chemicals that begin and assist the shedding process."
"Which will be different if that particular cell houses pollen from the plants you explained earlier", Phill added.
"Indeed", Boy went on. "So, a cell is on the outside of our body, and it knows it is. So if an outside cell's outer wall happens to be pushed towards the same cell's inner wall, we feel something akin to your sense of touch. And that's basically it."
"An alternative way to visualise it", Frank told us - and by 'us', I mean me and Phill - "is to pretend that you have a single fabric of clothing all over your body. Whenever something touches this fabric hard enough, it gets pushed towards you and touches your skin, and so you feel something."
Phill said, "Boy's description described the sense on the cellular level, while yours described it as it applies over the entire body."
"And they're both right", Matt butted in. Probably wanted to be the one talking again. "So there you go; another sense of the Slugs explained. Whenever our outer cell walls get compressed towards the inner wall, we can feel it, and that's our sense of touch."
"OK, that leaves only two left", I said. As far as I knew, that Slugs had five senses as well - sight, touch, their alien communication thingie, their smell and their hearing. "Give me hearing next", I told them.
"Well, about Slug hearing", Matthew said in a strange tone of voice. "It's kinda weird, when you think about it." He gave a thoughtful expression, and then went on. "You know how normal Slugs are all deaf?" I nodded. "Well, doesn't that strike you as strange? Not literally of course, since you might get hurt, but figuratively. If Slugs are deaf, then how are us five able to hear?"
"Because you're awesome?" I suggested.
"I do not think that that is reason enough to gain an additional sense that one's race does not possess", Phill told me. I don't think that he gets it.
"The answer", Carmen said, "is because we're awesome." Phill gave her a strange look, and she told him, "I was only joking." The Cyborg didn't respond in words, but he gave a confused expression. I wondered how many times he had had no idea what was going on. Probably less times than me though.
"The real answer", Boy began, "is that all Slugs are not deaf. The reason that we can't hear is because we didn't know that we could."
After this sank in (it took a bit), I asked, shocked, "How can you not know that you can hear? That doesn't make any sense!"
"What does make sense these days?" Matthew asked philosophically.
"The laws of physics", Phill answered him.
"In most cases", the Slug replied. "In this case, allow me to explain. Not you, Boy!" He glared at his friend. "I'm doing it. Don't even imagine that I don't know your plot to steal the explanation from me. I'm onto you!"
He straightened his shoulders in a dignified way, and then started to talk. "Our hearing works in a similar way to our sight, which, as you will no doubt recall, works by our eye holes funnelling light directly onto a specific part of our brain's surface which is capable of interpreting this light. There's actually a thin layer of transparent slime inside the eye hole, so our brains aren't exposed to the open air. But that's not important right now.
"There is another specific place on our brain's surface that is able to hear, and we simply funnel two ear holes to that spot. That is important right now. The problem is that it cannot interpret vibrations of the air as sound, otherwise someone at some point in time would have redirected their eye holes there and accidentally figured it out.
"What you have to do is put a thin film of slime pretty much directly onto the brain's surface. That is the trick, because the vibrations in the air inside our ear holes vibrate this film of slime, which strikes the brain's surface in patterns that it can understand. As you can imagine, this is not something you're going to do by accident, which is why no other Slugs have figured it out. I only got it because I was trying a whole bunch of weird stuff with my body all those years ago, to see what the best way was for me to pretend to be a human."
"And, for us, once we knew that there was such a thing as sound", Boy added, "we quickly guessed that this special part of our brain, which we'd always thought was inert and useless, must have something to do with it."
"How did the Slugs lose the knowledge of how to hear originally?" asked Phill. "The fact that you are capable of hearing means that, at one point in time, all Slugs were able to do so."
"Not a clue in the world", Matt answered cheerfully. "Perhaps it happened when that theory of yours happened, when the entire Slug race was reduced to a single colony on Slugenis. It was this small colony that either forgot how to or stopped hearing, and also that crafted the system of Honour. When the race expanded again, the values and way of life formulated for this small group spread throughout the whole empire."
Man, this was a whole lot to take in. I hope you were paying attention to it all, because I had a feeling that I'd be forgetting most of it pretty soon. What was the original question I'd wanted to ask before the Slugs' senses came up again? I can't recall.
"Now, onto smell", Matthew continued on mercilessly. I reluctantly stopped thinking about hearing, lest I miss anything important here. "Now, smell", Matt mused, "is an unusual sense. The concept is the same as for you - being able to detect different particles in the air - but it's quite different in one important way."
He paused for a couple of seconds. I saw Phill open his mouth to say something, but Matt started talking again first, so the Cyborg closed it. "I've just thought of how to say it. Our smell is very, very sensitive and accurate, but it is not a universal sense. That is, we cannot
smell a whole bunch of different scents but only a small range of them.
"And what is this range? Well, be patient, I'm about to tell you. The thing is, we can only smell other Slugs. That's right, you heard correctly. Our sense of smell is used solely as a means of identification with other Slugs; we cannot smell anything else. Each Slug has a unique... well, odour to them, kind of like those spotty things on a giraffe. So as soon as Slugs come within range of one another, we can instantly identify each other by our scent - but that sense can't detect anything else, unlike yours. It's quite a restricted sense, but its very good at what it does."
I had a sudden flashback to when Matthew had first met Boy back at the school on Earth. Both of them had looked like normal humans, but as soon as they got near each other, they'd run up and connected their slime. I'd never wondered before how both of them had known that the other was a Slug, since you couldn't tell by looking at them, but it seemed that they'd been able to smell each other, and remembered what the other smelled like. I wasn't too sure whether or not I thought that was weird.
"As for how it works", Matthew went on, "it's simple enough. We just divert a separate hole out of our ear holes which lead onto yet another special part of our brain. Remember when I told you that our brain's surface plays a major role? Well, I wasn't kidding. Not that you doubted me or anything, I'm sure. Anyway, this part of our brain can handle long-term exposure to air, and it reacts differently in response to certain particles in that air that come only from Slugs, which causes our brain neurons or whatever to do different stuff which lets us know which Slugs we're smelling."
"We should also note", Frank said, "that when a slime cell is next to shed, another chemical process it goes through is to release that particular Slug's scent to the side opposite the slime connection. This means that only exterior slime generates that Slug's unique smell, and not every cell in their body."
"So the inside of your body is odourless?" I asked.
"Yep", Matt answered. Once again, I had no idea if that was weird or not. "One more note", he went on. "Through a simple setup of tubes and slime shifting, we are able to suck air through our ear holes, as if we were breathing inwards. Not a whole lot, but more than nothing, otherwise I wouldn't be mentioning it. This suction of air, when we choose to do it, and apart from increasing our oxygen intake, increases our sensitiveness to hearing, since the air is flowing towards us - but the reason most Slugs do it is because it also increases our sense of smell, since it draws in air particles that we wouldn't otherwise have access to. Just another small thing in the long list of small things related to us Slugs."
OK. So they are able to breathe through their ears. There was no question about it this time - that was definitely weird.
"So much... information", I groaned. There was no way I'd remember all of this! OK, I just needed to concentrate on the important things, and I'd surely remember the major points -
"We're not done yet", Rosetta interrupted my feverish thoughts. "Phill, it's your turn. How do your senses work?"
Oh, no. This was not going to end well.
"I'd be happy to oblige", Phill responded, obviously relishing in my inability to precisely remember everything like he could. "To begin with, as I have previously explained to Ethan, my four senses are split into two major categories; active senses and passive senses. A Cyborg's active senses are those which they must consciously activate, and manually keep running in order for them to function. Ceasing to do this effectively shuts down these senses. Conversely, our passive senses do not require any intentional work, and are always able to receive sensory inputs as long as they have access to power."
"Which are active and which are passive?" asked Carmen.
The Cyborg answered, "Our senses of hearing and touch are active, while our sight and network connection are passive."
"Hmm", Matthew mused. "That's funny, cause it seems to be opposite for a human. They can only see as long as they keep their eyes open, so that's almost an active sense, while they can always hear and always feel touch, so they're almost passive senses."
"It depends on if you count seeing the inside of your eyelids as seeing or not", I said, already resigned to my fate.
"I suppose", Matt shrugged. "But, go on, Phill. Start with your hearing, if you will. How do you have to manually activate that and keep it running?"
Phill began, "I shall begin by saying that, as a Cyborg, all of my senses rely on an electrical stream reaching my CPU in a unique pattern which I then interpret, including my network connection which initially arrives as a radiowave. Of course, I lack my network connection."
"Hah!" Boy said. "That means you only have three senses, while the rest of us have five!"
"Yes it does", Phill answered calmly, destroying all the humour of the joke. "As per Matthew's request, I shall begin with my sense of hearing. Cyborgs have two 'ears', just as humans do, because that is the minimum amount needed in order to have three-dimensional hearing."
"By that, you mean so you can tell which direction a sound is coming from?" I asked.
"Precisely", he answered. "More than two would give a greater accuracy, but would also cost more resources and body space to create. You will find that when it comes to creating a sentient, fully independent machine, physical space becomes a valuable resource. You should also note that, although I have exterior ears, these are not where I hear from; they are only there because Matthew installed them there.
"My hearing works using thin, rectangular magnets, an electrical current, and small, electrically-conducive beads. The arrangement is thus - there are two of these magnets side-by-side, each magnetically suspended away from the other, with one of them exposed to the outside air. Packed between the two in a loose formation are these small beads. Keep in mind that this is all on a small scale; the magnets are each approximately two centimetres in length.
"In addition, there is an electrical current passing through these beads and leading to the part of our CPU that processes our sensation of sound. This is why our hearing is an active sense - it requires this stream of electricity to be constantly running, and at a constant rate. If we cease it, our hearing effectively deactivates, while if we change the rate, our hearing is severely distorted.
"Now, when there is a vibration in air particles - or sound - these vibrations reach the air immediately surrounding us. For the Slugs, it is directed to their brains, where it transfers its energy to a thin film of slime which vibrates against their brain and is then interpreted. For Cyborgs, the vibrations in the air push the outer magnet very slightly towards the inner one. This action compresses the beads that are packed between them, and thus creates a shorter and easier path for the electricity to pass through, causing more of the current to flow. When the vibrations stop, the magnetic repulsion returns the magnets to their equilibrium state, ceasing the pressure on the beads, and thus allowing less electricity through than when they were compressed.
"The effect of this is that when sounds occur, it causes more electrical current to pass through this arrangement, and thus more current to reach our CPU. The exact level of current through depends on the air vibration, and hence the sound, which caused it. When the current reaches our processors, we simply analyse the precise amount of electricity that has arrived, and the pattern that it arrived in, and our CPU converts this into our sensation of sound."
There was a long pause as we all digested this, and then Matt asked, "So you mean that your CPU has a different sound to make you hear for every minute - minute as in small, not the time one - electrical difference?"
"Yes", Phill answered.
"And you have to keep this electrical stream running continuously in order to hear?" I asked.
"Yes", he answered. I'd be surprised that he needed to consciously do such a thing all the time, and think that it would be near impossible, but, well, look at Matt. Enough said.
"Onto your sense of touch", Boy prodded Phill. "No resting for our explanations." I felt like groaning again,
but decided it would be best if I devoted myself to doing something that I had to do (listening intently) instead of complaining about having to do it.
"As an active sense", the Cyborg continued, "our sense of touch is not always activated. Unlike our hearing, however, we do not usually keep this sense constantly running; it is only in battles or other important events that this sense is capable of informing us. It is also a less complex configuration. When we wish to be aware if anything should touch us, we send frequent pulses of either low ampere or low voltage, or perhaps both, over our exterior body. I am not overly informed as to the humans' electrical terminology."
"Volts, amps, and watts has something to do with it", Matthew said. "Whatever the case, let's just say it's a low level of electricity."
Phill went on, "So we send pulses of current over our bodies, which are sent from one location and arrive at a receiving point on the opposite side of our body. The receiver keeps a very accurate watch over this pulse's return. If the current is interrupted at some point - that is, we are touched by something - the signal will take slightly longer to return, or perhaps may not even return at all. When this occurs, we know that we have been touched somewhere on that side of our body."
I waited for him to continue, but he didn't. "And?" I prompted.
"That is all", he said. "That's how we know that we've been touched."
"But how do you know where you've been touched?" I asked. "It sounds like you only know which half of your body was touched, but not the actual location of it."
"That is all we need to know", he answered casually. "Once we know the general direction of the interference, we simply look that way and allow our viewing implements to ascertain what it is." At my blank look, he decided to give me a bit more. "Of course, once we've registered a touch we can easily increase the rate of these pulses of current, which will keep a constant track and therefore give us up-to-date knowledge of which direction the cause of the sensation is in."
"Uh-huh", I answered. I don't know, it still didn't sound very useful to me. Imagine if, whenever something touched you, you only knew which half of your body it touched you on!
"I imagine that your sight works pretty simply", Matt said. "Just two cameras that convert light into an electrical signal, right?"
"Correct", Phill replied. "As a passive sense, my sight is kept on most of the time, and does not require any physical effort to keep it so other than supplying it with power. Of course, during periods of low-energy requirement, such as when everyone is sleeping, I usually turn off this sense by ceasing to provide it with power."
"Does that mean you were blind the entire time you were trapped in your cave?" asked Carmen. For those who don't remember, Phill spent like twenty years alone and strapped up to the wall of an empty cave. Sounds boring.
"No", Phill answered her. "The visual stimulus provided by my sight compensated for the additional energy it required to keep it running. There was not much to do there, and... keeping track of time by the reflected rising and setting of Earth's sun was all that I had." OK then, I guess it must've been really boring. I tried to imagine just sitting there, watching the sun rise and set like a million times. I'd guess that the actual rising and setting part wouldn't be too bad - it would be the twelve hours of nothing in between that's the killer.
"Well", I said loudly, before anyone else could try to start another conversation. "I think that's enough for one day. Or space-day, whatever it's called out here. I don't know about you guys, but I've sure heard enough to keep me satisfied for a while."
"Pfft", Matthew laughed. "Don't lie, you know that you'll be hungering for more knowledge soon enough, it's like you can't help yourself."
"Well, excuse me", I said back. "If I knew that there'd be so much stuff to learn about two alien races, then perhaps I would've thought twice before dedicating myself to listening to and learning all of it."
Boy told me, "And we wouldn't have had to come up with explanations and analogies that you can understand."
"Quit complaining", I told me. "My job is harder, I assure you." I gave a stifled yawn, as I was beginning to get a bit tired. "Well, I'm off to bed now. Well, I'm going to sleep, is what I mean." According to the ship, it was still 'day', since the lights that came through the metal interior weren't dimmed as they were during 'night', but I'd never followed that pattern of sleeping, and I sure wasn't going to start now.
"Sweet dreams", Matt leaned in close and told me in a creepy voice as our circle started to disband.
"You too", I told him back.
He gave a short laugh. "Slugs don't have dreams." Wait, they don't? I was almost tempted to ask, but then I realised that my brain was about to liquify, so I shrugged it off. Another time.
As I curled up in my usual sleeping-corner, with one of the blankets I'd never used on the planet but had brought from Slugenis anyway (I didn't really need one, since it was never that cold in the ship, but sleeping with a blanket always felt more comfortable than sleeping without one), I tried to recall everything that I'd learned about Slug and Cyborg senses. Of course I miserably failed at that - who can keep their thoughts on track while trying to sleep, right? - and the last thing I remember thinking was hoping that they wouldn't ask me how my human senses worked. Because I had no idea - something about ear hairs, I know that they're important.
And, while I slept, the interstellar ship kept on zooming back towards PDN, where we'd hopefully not get instantly shot down, hopefully meet the hopefully-alive Slob, and then hopefully convince them to meet us at the meeting point where we'd hopefully come to an agreement about a Slug-Cyborg alliance. It sounds like it should all go off without a hitch, right?