The Slug Inception

by Matthew Pelly

  Chapter 6 - Agree to agree

  The Human

  "I see him!" I announced. Now that he was close enough to see without having to squint, it was obvious that the person coming towards us was Slob. Apart from Phill, Slob was so far the only Cyborg I'd seen who actually had a face that could have passed as human, albeit from a distance (Rabadootime was in third place).

  When he got within speaking range, Matthew called out, "Yo, Slob! Wassup?"

  The Cyborg didn't respond, and I didn't really blame him. He was probably looking for a more dignified 'hello' than that.

  Phill provided one once Slob had joined the large group of other Cyborgs. "Greetings", our Cyborg said. "We come in a non-hostile manner, and intend only to discuss peacefully with you."

  That's when something unexpected happened. Now, I know you're thinking, 'Oh, Ethan, you always describe everything as unexpected!' and perhaps you'd be right. But, believe me, this was a legit unexpected thing. What happened was, one the the non-Slob, non-Phill Cyborgs (I've no idea which) issued forth a stream of... sound. It went for like ten seconds, and it sounded like a quick jet of rapid metallic clicks.

  You know that super-intelligent part of my brain? Well it surfaced again to provide me - and you - with some valuable information, before succumbing back to a long period of silence once more. I noticed that each click sounded exactly the same in pitch and frequency (those words mean different things, right? I don't really know); there was no difference between the actual sound of the clicks. But the duration of each click was slightly different - some were very quick, and some were only slightly quick. On top of that, the pause of time between the clicks also slightly differed - some were a quick pause, while others were only a slightly quick pause.

  It seemed to me (well, to my brain) that the code of these differing clicks and pauses represented some kind of robotic speech that only these Cyborgs could understand. Sort of like Morse code, that clicking code-thingie, but the Cyborg version. That would mean that Phill, who didn't live on PDN, shouldn't be able to speak it either. "Ey, Phill?" I asked, intending to test this. "Can you understand that?"

  "No", he answered, confirming my theory. Good job, brain! You're certainly worth all that food I eat to keep you alive. Phill went on, "Normal Cyborgs communicate using the network. This primitive speech system must be used only on PDN or other unique locations where network communication is impossible, and where some alternative means of transferring information must therefore be found. Hence, I, who never should have been on this planet, do not know it." Why had I not heard this on our first trip to the Cyborg Archives (well, 'invasion' was more accurate than 'trip')? Well, the Cyborgs then probably hadn't felt the need to converse in front of us, I suppose.

  "Correct", Slob answered him. "It is more efficient than the speech you utilise, but not as effective." Wait, did Slob just compliment the english language? Neat.

  "I'm sure your buddy here told you about the bomb we have", Matthew smirked, "so I suggest that you don't try anything sneaky on us. I can set it off with just a moment's notice."

  Oh. The bomb. I had a pretty good idea that Matt didn't intend to actually blow us all to hell, but I still wasn't a fan of the idea that we'd been sharing our spaceship quarters with a massive explosion waiting to happen. I hope that thing is stable. What would happen if I sneezed on it or something?

  "It would be mutually beneficial if neither of us acted so", Slob replied. Well, regardless of what I thought of Matthew's tactic, I couldn't deny that it had worked. If he didn't bring it, would we all be dead by now? I hadn't thought of what to do once we got here - I kind of just left this strategy stuff to Matt and the others. It's not like I had any experience battling death-machines.

  "How true", Matthew said. "Well then, onto business." He paused. "Wait. I have to know first. Has every Cyborg now got it recorded that your name is Slob?"

  Slob looked at him. "My unofficial designation has been titled so."

  "They call me 'Phill' ", Phill agreed sympathetically.

  "You love your name, Phill!" Boy said heatedly.

  Our Cyborg replied, "Perhaps, but I had no part in selecting it. Neither did Slob, nor Rabadootime."

  "Ahh, Rabadootime", Matthew said in a reminiscent tone. "How's that guy doing these days? I hope to see him again some time. You know, talk about the good old days when he cut off my head and chucked me out a window?" He turned his attention to the Cyborgs with a fierce look. "I hope you guys all know that I won that fight, by the way. He chickened out and ran off!"

  Slob said nothing, but replied, "We are still receiving information from him."

  "That means he is still alive as at the time he sent that information", Phill told us. "Although, in real time, that may have been several years ago." He turned to Slob. "Are you not approaching the end of your average lifespan?" Average lifespan. I hope nobody ever asks that of me. Somehow, and I don't know why, it seems to be more offensive than someone asking if you're old.

  Slob replied, "I am usually in no danger here." Umm. I guess that means 'no'?

  "I have designated this planet PD-0034:N", Phill told him. "However, our group also colloquially refers to it as 'PDN' or 'The Cyborg Archives', and you are invited to do as such." Now, I had not the faintest idea of what 'colloquially' means, but I gather from that sentence that it means 'informally'. See? You learn something new every day (unless your days consist of travelling in a spaceship, doing nothing most of the time).

  Slob said nothing, but he probably recorded it in some database somewhere, or something else equally machine-like.

  "Back to business", Carmen steered us back on track. "We are here to discuss something of importance with you. Once our talks are finished, we will leave peacefully."

  "Should you pose no threat to us", Slob said, "we will allow you to leave peacefully."

  "Alright then!" Matthew announced to the night sky. "Let's get ready to rock!" He looked around furtively. "And in case you don't know what I mean by rock, I mean talk. So I really meant, let's get ready to talk!"

  "This is the basics of the matter", Boy took up the conversation, since it was pretty obvious that Matt was going nowhere. I sat down on the ground, since all this standing was becoming bothersome, and started to play with the grass with my fingers. The blades were thick, full and green, and they had some kind of movement system, so that each strand of it was wriggling around all over the place. It seems kind of exotic and exciting, I know, but don't let them fool you - I'd once tripped on one of these deathtraps, and could very well have gotten killed as a result.

  Boy began, "Some of us Slugs have decided, after much evidence and consideration, that enough is enough. We have had enough of the war between our races, of the constant fighting and killing. We see no point to it anymore, if ever there was a point to begin with. We want a peace, and we want it as soon as we can, so that the two of us - and the humans, as well - can live freely."

  Slob opened his mouth to say something (and oh dear God, but I'd never wondered before why Cyborgs even have mouths in the first place? What's the point?), but Boy interrupted him. "Before you say anything, we are not suggesting that you make up your mind right now. Just to consider it."

  Slob closed his mouth, and then nothing happened for a few minutes. Well, I mean nothing for us. But the Cyborg party was undergoing a huge discussion, since an endless stream of clicking noises was issuing from every direction and seemed to be swirling all over the place. It was like an orchestra of metallic clicks, a symphony of the same sound in varied patterns - except it sucked and kind of hurt my ears.

  "What are we to consider", Slob finally asked. Well, he Cyborg-asked.

  Matthew took over. "Have a party of Cyborgs meet with a party of Slugs at a neutral place", he said. "I've already found the perfect spot. It's a little volcanic planet in between our two territories. And I've already named it Slugma, so don't even think about trying to assign it one of your codes!"

  "What shall we do there", S
lob Cyborg-asked again. Man, their tendency to speak in such flat monotones was getting kind of annoying. I mean, couldn't they even ask questions properly?

  "That is where we intend for the full discussions to begin", Carmen picked it up. "Our two races will hopefully come to an arrangement about how best to end this pointless war, and bring about a new age for both our species. A new beginning."

  "A new inception", Matthew said significantly.

  After a pause of some more clicking (I wonder what they were saying? Probably 'that human looks weird'), Slob said, "There will be some Cyborgs who will not like such an end."

  Matthew nodded. "And many Slugs who won't either. That's the purpose of this negotiation. We need to figure out ways that we can end this war, and in the best manner for everyone involved."

  "So that it is mutually beneficial", Phill added, using Slob's favourite phrase. Wait, he had a favourite phrase? Since when?

  Slob asked, "Why should you seek this."

  Boy spoke up. "For a long time, we fought you Cyborgs without knowing why; we just did. We thought you were thoughtless machines, simply following some type of programming, not really a form of life." He glanced at Phill and smiled. "But we standing before you met Phill here, the first Cyborg to get into contact with Slugs. And that changed everything."

  "As well as the humans", Rosetta added. "Without them and Ethan, none of this would have happened." Heh - and don't you forget it.

  "Primarily because of their language", Matthew said, "a form of communication that both of our races could use to speak. Once we got to know that there was a lot more... dignity to being a Cyborg than meets the eye, or eye hole, depending on one's circumstances, we began to question why we were killing them in the first place. And we found no answer. So here we are."

  Slob paused, and then launched into another volley of clicks with his brethren. This one went for even longer than the first one, so I guessed that the Cyborgs had some interesting stuff to talk about.

  "How shall we know the place you speak of", asked Slob. He was just full of questions today. Overall though, I'm just happy that he didn't simply yell 'Screw it!' (in clicks, of course), and charge us.

  "Oh, Phill and I have already been through this on our way over here", Matt said. "I gave him a good description of the place, and he knows some nearby Cyborg places that you ought to know, so you can find it easy."

  "Wait, how does that work?" I asked.

  "You mean you don't know how we found PDN in the first place, based on Phill's information?" asked Boy. I shook my head, and he shook his in response. It wasn't my fault!

  "Where is it", Slob half-asked.

  "If you agree, we will tell you", Carmen said.

  There was a short pause, before Slob spoke again. "You wish for me to bring a group of Cyborgs to this location to discuss an end to our war."

  "Indeed", Matt said.

  Another short pause (with some high-intensity clicking action going on), then Slob asked, "How many Cyborgs."

  "We're bringing at least a hundred Slugs", Boy said, "perhaps even as much as two hundred. So quite a bit."

  Yet another short pause of clicking. I swear this guy was doing it on purpose. Finally, Slob said, "I will bring as many Cyborgs that wish to come, up to a limit of two hundred."

  We all just kind of goggled at him for a bit. "You will?" I asked. That was it? It was that easy?

  "Why?" asked Phill.

  "Our enemy has entered into an alliance with another race", Slob explained. "They now have access to territory and technology that we have little experience with. If the war goes on, many Cyborgs and Cyborg worlds will be defeated before we are able to counteract this new threat. A suspension of hostilities is beneficial to us." Wow. I never thought that we'd just stroll up here, be like 'come make peace!' and he'd be like 'yep!' It appeared that the last time we had invaded PDN had made a lasting impression on Slob, and he didn't want to be beaten like that again. Well, good for us.

  "Oh, so you're doing it for selfish reasons, huh?" Matthew asked defensively.

  "That's irrelevant", Phill quickly said. "We are agreed then. We shall disclose the location of this planet, and then we shall meet you there. In the meantime, however, we can show each other courtesy by answering some pressing questions."

  "Disable the bomb that you brought", Slob quickly said.

  Matt smiled sheepishly. "Oh. About that..."

  The Cyborg

  Boy volunteered to begin the explanation which Slob required by saying, "This is the basics of the matter: some of us Slugs have decided, after much evidence and consideration, that enough is enough. We have had enough of the war between our races, of the constant fighting and killing. We see no point to it anymore, if ever there was a point to begin with. We want a peace, and we want it as soon as we can, so that the two of us - and the Humans, as well - can live freely."

  Slob attempted a reply, but Boy quickly interjected with a final say. "Before you say anything, we are not suggesting that you make up your mind right now. Just to consider it." This seemed to be obvious from the outset; did anyone expect Slob and the Cyborgs to instantly give their decision, without some time beforehand in which to consider it?

  As the Cyborgs stationed on PDN were incapable of utilising the network connection to wirelessly communicate, they partook in a dialogue of rapid clicking noises, the sequence of which indicated meaning to those Cyborgs who understood the language.

  After a short amount of time, this ceased, and Slob said, "What are we to consider." It appeared that they had taken Boy's words with some consideration; otherwise, he would have simply stated 'No'.

  Matthew told him, "Have a party of Cyborgs meet with a party of Slugs at a neutral place. I've already found the perfect spot. It's a little volcanic planet in between our two territories. And I've already named it Slugma, so don't even think about trying to assign it one of your codes!" I deemed it likely that Slugma had already been assigned a classification, given its proximity to Cyborg territory, but I said nothing of this.

  "What shall we do there", Slob queried. I considered why he had yet to learn the proper inflections and nuances of the Human oral language, and concluded that my thoughts were irrelevant and the learning of this unnecessary for the same reason; Slob was able to communicate clearly and without misinterpretation, and so any further learning on his part was not required.

  "That is where we intend for the full discussions to begin", Carmen told the Cyborgs. "Our two races will hopefully come to an arrangement about how best to end this pointless war, and bring about a new age for both our species. A new beginning."

  "A new inception", Matthew said, and, although I saw no rational reason for him to say such a thing, it seemed significant nonetheless.

  The Cyborgs conversed amongst themselves once again, before Slob said, "There will be some Cyborgs who will not like such an end."

  "And many Slugs who won't either", Matthew agreed. "That's the purpose of this negotiation. We need to figure out ways that we can end this war, and in the best manner for everyone involved."

  Remembering that Slob had cited 'mutually beneficial' as the reason for his surrender during our first attack on PDN, I repeated the phrase in the hope that it would spark the same sentiment of cooperation. "So that it is mutually beneficial."

  Slob asked, "Why should you seek this."

  Boy replied, "For a long time, we fought you Cyborgs without knowing why; we just did. We thought you were thoughtless machines, simply following some type of programming, not really a form of life. But we standing before you met Phil here, the first Cyborg to get into contact with Slugs. And that changed everything."

  I said nothing, as I thought that Ethan and Earth had played an equally important role as myself, but the gesture was appreciated. I had not previously known that the Slugs considered us as non-sentient beings, just following 'some type of programming'. It was far from the truth.

  Echoing my thoughts, Rosetta said, "As well as the Hu
mans. Without them and Ethan, none of this would have happened."

  "Primarily because of their language", Matthew said, "a form of communication that both of our races could use to speak. Once we got to know that there was a lot more... dignity to being a Cyborg than meets the eye, or eye-hole, depending on one's circumstances, we began to question why we were killing them in the first place. And we found no answer. So here we are."

  I wasn't sure about his usage of the word 'dignity', but I did feel a certain amount of... pride in being a Cyborg, probably stemming from the fact that I was the only one of that race in our group. Surely such a feeling was not natural for one of my kind - I must be the only one to have experienced such a thing. It made me wonder if Slob and all the others were missing out on something, or if I was simply feeling too much than was healthy for me.

  After discussing our argument with the 17 Cyborgs around him, Slob asked, "How shall we know the place you speak of."

  "Oh, Phil and I have already been through this on our way over here", Matt informed him. "I gave him a good description of the place, and he knows some nearby Cyborg places that you ought to know, so you can find it easy."

  Such was the way that we had converted PD-0034:N's Cyborg coordinates into Slug ones, and Slugma's location in Cyborg coordinates. By comparing the planet in question to as many nearby worlds as we knew of, along with a good description of those worlds, we were able to locate our thoughts of the point in space, and tell the other when we were thinking of the right world.

  Of course, such a process was much harder for me than the Slugs; they had all of Slug knowledge to draw upon, while I had only my memory of major Cyborg locations and points of interest that had been provided to me upon my construction. It generally took a large length of time to complete, so it was fortunate that Matthew and I had had an abundance of time aboard the interstellar ship. The most valuable resource.

  "Wait, how does that work?" Ethan asked, oblivious to the process which had occurred on the same ship he'd been on. He had even heard some of it, but bored quickly and left to find another ready source of short-term entertainment. As a result of this, he was paying for his lack of knowledge now.

  "You mean you don't know how we found PDN in the first place, based on Phil's information?" Boy asked him, causing the Human to shake his head. Boy chuckled at how he could not know this, but it seemed to me that it should not come as a surprise that one who does not participate in important discussions such as this has no knowledge later of the subject which previously fell under discussion.

  "Where is it", Slob queried.

  "If you agree, we will tell you", Carmen told him. A wise tactic, for it would be imprudent to give away the location of our planned meeting-place before Slob had agreed to our terms.

  After a short pause of time, Slob spoke again. "You wish for me to bring a group of Cyborgs to this location to discuss an end to our war."

  "Indeed", Matt said.

  Slob then asked, "How many Cyborgs."

  Boy told him, "We're bringing at least 100 Slugs, perhaps even as much as 200. So quite a bit."

  Slob paused for another brief period of time. He then said, "I will bring as many Cyborgs that wish to come, up to a limit of 200."

  Our group was currently silent in its contentment. Slob's word could obviously not be trusted, for he was still the enemy, but to have elicited even so preliminary an agreement was a great step forward in our plan.

  "You will?" Ethan asked in a shocked tone. I was unsure as to what he could be confused about, until I came to the same realisation that he undoubtedly did before me. Slob was still under threat of the hydrogen bomb which Matthew claimed to have armed. Although Matt had said that he wouldn't activate it without any sign of aggression, Slob had no reason to believe this, just as we had no reason to believe that he meant what he said.

  In this case, is this the only reason they had agreed with us? For fear of what Matthew would do if they disagreed? If so, that was an unacceptable outcome; the Cyborgs would come to Slugma - if they came at all - lacking the non-hostile intentions that are required for the negotiation to succeed. I needed more information, however, before I could come to any conclusion.

  "Why?" I asked him; further detailing my question was not necessary.

  "Our enemy has entered into an alliance with another race", Slob explained. "They now have access to territory and technology that we have little experience with. If the war goes on, many Cyborgs and Cyborg worlds will be defeated before we are able to counteract this new threat. A suspension of hostilities is beneficial to us."

  Was this the real reason? Or was Slob only saying what he believed we would believe? Was he planning to remain true to our agreement, or was he planning some other method by which to benefit his race? The matter required further consideration.

  "Oh, so you're doing it for selfish reasons, huh?" Matthew asked him, which only further heightened my suspicion.

  However, I also became aware of my fallacy. Matt's question highlighted the fact that to undertake a course of action which assumes my current thoughts to be correct would prove detrimental should my current thoughts prove to be incorrect. To counteract this, then, I would for the moment continue on as the plan called for, and remain perceptive to any hints as to Slob's true intentions.

  "That's irrelevant", I said, hoping that I did not so far resemble the organics that they could read something from my tone of voice. Perhaps this was why Slob chose to preserve his monotonous method of speech. "We are agreed then. We shall disclose the location of this planet, and then we shall meet you there. In the meantime, however, we can show each other courtesy by answering some pressing questions."

  I had some very pressing questions to ask, but I had to do so in a way which did not reveal the underlying processes behind those questions.

  "Disable the bomb that you brought", Slob said first.

  Before I could decide whether or not we should tell the truth so as to gain the maximum benefit and leverage, Matthew said, "Oh. About that..."

  The Human

  "Oh", Matthew said guiltily. "About that..."

  "Hey!" I said. "What did you do?"

  He gave me a sinful look, and said, "Well... I kind of... lied."

  I stared at him. "Are you trying to tell me that you really couldn't fire that bomb, even if you wanted to?"

  He stared back at me. Then he burst out laughing. "No, no, you're not going deep enough", he chuckled. "You see, there is no bomb. This is just a normal scout ship. I totally lied about the whole thing! Muahaha!"

  "Oh", I said. I wasn't sure whether I was happy that we weren't in danger of accidentally blowing up, or angry that he didn't see fit to share this with anyone. Or did he? "Did you tell anyone else about this?" I asked, glancing at Boy. I bet that he knew.

  "Not a soul", Matt said proudly, "although I guess that some people would've figured it out. Every Slug here, for instance, would've known right away that there was nothing unexpected in the ship. They were all connected to the dishes, same as I was."

  "So only Phill and I were in the dark", I pouted.

  "I deduced it some time ago", Phill said, somewhat distractedly.

  "So only I was in the dark", I pouted even more. And don't you look down at me - that pouting was absolutely justified!

  Matthew said defensively, "Don't blame me for that, I told nobody. It's not my fault you were the only person who couldn't figure it out. Besides, none of these Cyborgs knew, right Slob?"

  "No", Slob answered. It was probably just my imagination, but he almost sounded as if he was upset about the whole thing too. I wonder though - now that he knows there's no threat, what's to stop him from killing us? Was there was a real reason, or did Matthew just inherently trust him, the way he'd inherently trusted Phill back during our defence of Earth? Trusting Phill had paid off, of course, but I wasn't entirely sure about this one.

  "Hey, how about a tour around PDN?" Boy asked.

  "Ohh, that's a good idea", Mat
t said. "Come on Ethan, you know you want to - it'll make you feeeel better."

  I glared at him, then realised that I wasn't even that angry to begin with. And besides, our plan to get Slob to agree to agree in the future had already worked, so why not? "Fine", I said, and then tried to retain some dignity. "But only because I want to, not because you persuaded me... that I want to." OK, dignity gone.

  "So hows about it Slob?" asked Matthew. "Wanna show your good old buddies around a bit? It's sure to be fun, and, hey, I told you the truth about the bomb and all, so yeah. You kind of owe us now. I could've just pretended to turn it off."

  "What do you wish", he asked.

  "Show us those underground tunnels", Rosetta suggested. "We couldn't figure out how they worked last time, so could you give us a full explanation?" What's this 'we' business? She wasn't even here last time!

  "Then you shall leave", Slob said. I guess he felt uncomfortable with us on his planet, or something. Well, now he knows how it felt when Rabadootime and his henchmen (I'm pretty sure that Cyborgs don't have henchmen, so ignore that) came to Earth.

  He turned and began to walk back the way he'd come, and the whole group of Cyborgs turned to follow him. It seemed pretty dangerous, since we had no idea where they were leading us - most likely into some dastardly trap - but Matt confidently strolled after them.

  Falling in step behind everyone else, I found myself walking next to Carmen and Phill, who was more quiet and morose than usual. "What's up, Phill?" I asked him. "You're back on PDN, and we're not trying to destroy it this time. You should be happy."

  "I am pleased at that", he replied, "but other matters are concerning me right now." This didn't promise to be good.

  "What is it?" I asked.

  He looked up to see how far behind the Cyborgs we were, and judged it to be safe. They looked to be out of hearing range to me, by no one should ever make a bet on my judgements. "I'm not sure that Slob's agreement can be trusted. It was made under threat of Matthew's fictional bomb, and so cannot be held to be a true mark of his intentions."

  "Matt said he'd only fire the bomb if we were attacked", I reasoned in a low voice, lest anyone hear us. "So he wasn't using it as a threat to make Slob agree at all."

  "Why should he have trusted that we weren't threatening him?" asked Phill.

  Carmen put in, "If you're right, then, now that the bomb myth has been exposed, he is leading us to a place where he will attack and try to kill us. But why wouldn't he have just attacked us right there, outside the ship?"

  "I'm not entirely sure that he is planning on killing us now", Phill said. "Perhaps he will pretend that all is well. He could kill us now, and kill six enemies; if they manage to get Frank on the interstellar ship, that would make seven. He would also kill Matthew and Boy, two old Slugs, and me, the only traitor Cyborg.

  "As an alternative hypothesis, however, he just received information that there will be up to two hundred Slugs on a small world called Slugma. He is soon to learn its whereabouts. Why kill us six or seven when he can pass this vital information on and try to take a whole army out?"

  "You mean he intends to bomb Slugma when we're on it?" I asked, worried. Why hadn't I thought of that? Oh, that's right - I hadn't been in a war my whole life. I suppose it does stuff to your thinking processes.

  "It is a possibility", Phill told us, "one that we should be wary of."

  "We can't ask them to land on Slugma first", Carmen said. "They'd be afraid that we'd do the same thing to them."

  I gave a little laugh. "So you mean that both sides are too scared to land first, in case the other decides to bomb them? Well then, we'll just have to take turns landing one ship at a time."

  "A remarkably inefficient procedure", Phill stated, which was totally right.

  Carmen said, "It seems that it may be necessary. We can work out the particulars later on, when we can discuss openly without worrying about being overheard."

  Phill nodded, and left it at that.

  But I wasn't done talking just yet. "In the meantime", I began, louder now. "It's time you told me about CMIs, and how they work."

  "I shall", Phill responded after a pause (he had to give it a good think first or something), "although I doubt that you will gain any new knowledge which you have not already observed or guessed. The CMI, or Cyborg Magnetic Insertion technique, consists of two parts - the Cyborg and the plate. I'll begin with the latter.

  "As you no doubt already know, the plate is a very powerful electromagnet. It has holes placed inside it to ensure it remains upright while falling through the lower atmosphere, and small lights to give a visual indication of when it is activated, apart from the usual radio signals it sends to inform any nearby Cyborgs of the same thing. However, this is not an ordinary magnet; it is what I call a 'directed magnet'. For the sake of comprehension, I will label the plate's top as the magnet's 'north' and its bottom as the magnet's 'south'.

  "The bottom of the actual magnet is not the bottom of the plate; the magnet itself only extends approximately halfway down the full width of the device. Underneath this magnet is a complex set of intersecting and adjoining metal sheets which negate the effect of the south magnetism as much as possible. This causes the south side of the magnet to have a negligible effect compared to the top, north side.

  "The top of the magnet is not restricted in terms of power, but rather in terms of focus. Another set of magnetically-conductive sheets of metal are layered on top of the north face, emanating from the centre, and getting markedly thinner as they radiate towards the outer edge. This means that the centre of the magnet, pointing straight up, has a high restriction on its magnetism, due to a thick sheet. Around the centre is a smaller amount of these sheets, increasing the amount of magnetic influence at this point. Further out from this point, in a circle, is a thinner sheet, and further out again are yet thinner sheets. The net effect of this is that the further away from the centre one examines, the stronger the magnetic pull, and so the weakest magnetism emanates from the middle of the plate, pointing upwards."

  He paused for a bit, and I prodded him, "Go on." Not that I was completely following everything, but hey, I'm sure you are. It's not like I can just rehear everything that I'm told - once Phill says something once, that's the last time I get to hear and think about it. Unlike you, you cheat.

  "I was giving you an amount of time to process this before I continued", he said.

  "I'm done processing", I said. "Continue."

  He did. "The second aspect of CMI is the Cyborg. Not any Cyborg can use this technique - only specially made Cyborgs can."

  "Can you?" asked Carmen.

  "No", he answered. "In order to be able to utilise CMI, a Cyborg must be constructed with the specific requirements necessary for the technique's use. That is, unless a Cyborg is made specifically to do it, they cannot. These Cyborgs have specialised magnets on the outside of their body at various points, all of which face their north side downwards. They are not nearly as strong as the CMI plate, but are still somewhat powerful in their own right.

  "At a signal from the plate, which is sent when the device has landed and is activated or is ready to activate, the Cyborg exits the flying craft and descends down to the ground right over it. On the way down they spread out their body, which creates a larger surface for wind resistance to slow their decline. Once they are close enough to the ground, they assume an upright pose, and wait for the magnets to do their work.

  "As the plate is very powerful, it begins to repel the falling Cyborg from a reasonably large distance. As I said, the outer edge of the plate exerts a stronger influence than its centre. The Cyborg has positioned their landing so as to fall as close to the exact centre as they can. As the magnets attached to their bodies begin to be repelled, due to the north-north faces, their fall begins to decelerate.

  "In an ordinary case, the magnetic repulsion would simply throw the Cyborg away from the source of resistance; but in the case of CMI, every direction around the Cyborg a
ctually yields a stronger magnetic repulsion, due to the setup of the sheets inside the plate. Having a stronger resistance on all sides keeps the Cyborg trapped in a fall leading directly to the middle of the plate. Just before reaching it - a state known by the Cyborg by the radiowave distance between it and the device - the electromagnet inside the plate increases its power output, and thus increases its repulsion.

  "The initial magnetism is set at a standard amount of power, but this final burst is tailored to the specific atmosphere, distance and current weather conditions of the drop zone. This variable amount of power supplied to the plate's magnet is set at a level to ensure a smooth final drop, and in theory allows the CMI Cyborg to hover for a moment just above it before the electromagnets are shut off."

  I needed a minute to digest all of this. Like, a long minute. But before I could even begin to think about it, I heard Matthew saying up ahead of us (he must've waited until Phill was finished or something - how considerate), "Yo, Slob. You know all about the Cyborg Archives, and all the Cyborgs that are sending updates to it. So tell me - what happened to Rabadootime after he left Earth?"

  The Slug

  'Yo, Slob', I quickly asked after I saw that Phill had finished speaking about something. I had to get in fast, before Ethan got him off on another rant. He was good at that kind of thing. 'You know all about the Cyborg Archives, and all the Cyborgs that are sending updates to it. So tell me - what happened to Rabadootime after he left Earth?'

  This seemed like it was pretty important, but I couldn't really think of a reason why. The defence of Earth business had been like a hundred years ago for all we knew, and all that we did know was that Rabadootime was alive... somewhere. But hey, it'd be a good conversation anyway.

  'He escaped on the same ship that he arrived in', Slob answered. As if that was gonna be enough.

  'Alright, before that', I said. 'Phill was complaining for ages about how weird it was that the Cyborgs' initial ship, the one that landed, spent a moment hovering in the air and took its time in landing. Got any explanation for that?'

  'I wasn't complaining about it', Phill tried to defend himself. 'I was merely pointing out the anomaly.' And... looks like he failed to defend himself.

  'Based on the information transferred between Cyborgs at the time', Slob told us - he sure was in a talkative mood today - 'They had little information as to the extent of your partnership with the Humans. It was judged that a slow, inefficient approach would appear less threatening than a normal landing.'

  'That makes sense', Ethan commented.

  'Well, in return for your assistance', I said to Slob, 'allow me to tell you something. I was on Earth for twenty years before being found by the Slugs and Cyborgs. And I had never approached a Human before with my true identity, or tried anything remotely resembling a partnership. I didn't even tell my best friend about it, although I suspect he thought that something must've been up.' I grinned behind me at Ethan.

  'I thought you were a bit peculiar, sure', he said back, 'but I had no idea you were a friggin' alien!'

  I laughed at that, but I also noticed that Slob had said nothing about my statement. Probably thinking about how much he was gonna head-slap Rabadootime next time he saw him for assuming that I'd arranged a Slug-Human alliance.

  'But back to my original question', I said. 'What did Rabadootime do once he left Earth? Did he just go back to Cyborg space and conduct business as usual?'

  'I would say that he did', Phill guessed. 'The mission on Earth had failed, so there was no reason for him to do anything else.'

  'Why are we speculating about this', Rosetta asked, 'when the person who knows is right there?'

  Slob finally answered. 'That Cyborg did go back to his original position as...'

  'A Cyborg leader', Phill supplied.

  Slob continued, 'He also sent to the Cyborg Archives an extensive report on Earth and the Humans, their language, and the Slugs who had defeated him.'

  'So that's how you knew that we knew Rabadootime', Boy surmised.

  'And why you altered your appearance to look like a Human', Ethan said.

  'Umm', I said, 'that actually only half explains it. Why did you alter your appearance in the first place? Way out here on PDN, what was the point?'

  'It was believed that further confrontations with Humans were inevitable', Slob told us. 'Based on Rabadootime's viewings of you, Humans appeared to prefer Slugs that resembled themselves in appearance. I was testing prototype methods to emulate this for all Cyborgs to use.'

  'You mean', I said in disbelief, 'you were testing a prototype on how to pass yourself off as a Human?'

  'Yes.'

  I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. But it turned out that nature answered my question for me: Slugs weren't physiologically capable of crying - something to do with not having eyes, I guess - so I laughed. 'That's kind of funny', I said. Because it was. Because I just laughed. Because I don't have eyes.

  'Are you currently testing a prototype?' Ethan asked.

  'Yes', he replied.

  'What is it?' the Human went on, getting excited.

  'Using thin, powerful magnets', Slob told him, and said no more. How boring. Ethan must have a sad face right now, but I was too damn lazy to turn around and see.

  Boy said to Slob, 'So Rabadootime sent you a report on everything he'd learned from Earth, through his network connection.'

  'No', the Cyborg leader told him. 'During the early stages of the battle, Rabadootime's network connection was damaged, and so was unusable, as was some internal CPU circuitry. He sent the report through his ship.'

  We all paused for a second. 'You mean his CPU was damaged too?' asked Carmen.

  'Slightly', Slob answered. Hah! That means that I almost killed him, and this was before he chased off after Ethan up the building, since it was early on. Of course, Phill had done some stuff to him as well, but I'm just gonna go ahead and assume that it was me that dealt the critical blow. Boo-yah!

  'Oh! Oh!' Ethan said excitedly. 'That explains it then! After I'd climbed up the building and Rabadootime followed me, but before you got there Matthew, there was a point where he had me cornered and I thought I was a goner. But then we heard Matt running up the stairs, and he hesitated long enough for me to duck under him and run away from him. I'd always wondered how a Cyborg could get distracted like that, since they're meant to be computers and all... but now you're saying that his CPU was damaged?'

  'You never mentioned this to me', Phill told him. 'I could've told you that no normal Cyborg would've been incapacitated so, even for a second, and that therefore there must have been something wrong with his CPU.'

  Ethan shrugged. 'It didn't seem important. And I know now, anyway.'

  'That you do', I said.

  'Why did you ask us what we knew of Rabadootime the first time we met then?' Rosetta asked Slob.

  'I had received his report from his ship', Slob replied, 'but I was not receiving any signals from him, due to his network disconnection. It took him some time to get it repaired after he had returned to his previous position.'

  'That is common', Phill nodded sagely. 'It is difficult to repair any Cyborg injury, let alone CPU damage or a broken network connection. This is where organics have the upper hand.'

  'Yeah', I scoffed, 'cause we can totally heal a badly damaged brain.'

  'If the damage is not so severe that it is possible to heal it', Phill told me, 'it is done without requiring assistance from a group of others, and without needing advanced repair technology.' Well, that shut me up. But only because it seemed an important topic to him for some reason - I sure could've keep rambling on if I'd really had a mind to.

  'We have arrived', Slob said, meaning that we were just outside one of the buildings which led into the underground tunnels. It looked just like I remembered the other buildings to look, which wasn't really surprising. If it ain't broke, don't fix it - and these weren't broke. So they hadn't fixed it. I walked up to one of the steel sides and care
fully inspected it as best I could in the dark. No cracks at all. These definitely weren't broke, so, yep, the Cyborg's lack of fixing them was completely justified.

  Following Slob's lead, we all descended into the bowels of the building. Well, after the small army of Cyborgs that were behind Slob, that is. I noticed Phill and Ethan hesitate to go in, and could've probably read some deep meaning into that, but decided not to.

  'Right then', I said as we began the hike down the ramp which led to the underground. 'What are we doing here?'

  'I am showing you "the underground tunnels", as you requested', Slob answered, and decided I didn't need any more information than that.

  'Hey', I said. 'You're not leading us into some kind of trap, right? Cause we totally trusted you in coming down here, and that would be, like, incredibly rude.'

  'No', he replied.

  ' "No" as in it's not a trap', Ethan asked, 'or "No" as in you don't think that trapping us is rude?'

  Hmmm - I wondered what I'd do if it was a trap we were walking into. Well, if it was, it seemed to be a poor one; we could easily just run out the way we'd come into this building, as every Cyborg was in front of us. But if they'd somehow arranged for more to come in behind us, despite their lack of communication... Hmmm. Then we'd be in some trouble. Well, too late to worry about it now.

  'If we planned to attack you', Slob said, 'We would have done so without waiting for me to arrive.'

  'Oh', Ethan said. 'So you mean that the simple fact that you were willing to talk meant that you had no intention of killing us. That's quite... decent of you.'

  'Yeah', I said. 'And the simple fact that we landed without any violence meant the same for us. Minus the bomb incident, of course - but you gotta admit, it was kinda funny. And it worked pretty well.'

  Slob didn't reply to that, but instead motioned to a large shape up ahead of us. 'This is the primary purpose of the tunnels', he stopped and said.

  Looking up, I saw with my own brain what we'd only guessed at last time; some kind of Cyborg transport. I also saw its most striking feature; it wasn't just its size, nor its shape, nor its colour, nor its general feel, but some unnatural combination of them all. Because man, was it ugly.

  The Human

  That thing - was a Cyborg vehicle? It was a bit difficult to describe, merely because of its... I can't even think of a word for it. I'm almost tempted to just not describe it at all, but that wouldn't make you very happy, now would it?

  OK, here goes. From my viewpoint, which was behind a big crowd of people keep in mind, it was a wall. Yes, a wall. You remember those two parallel grooves that ran along either wall at about waist height? Well, they were still there, but once they reached the vehicle, they stopped. Because the transport covered all the space between the sides of the walls, and completely covered up any hope of seeing what was behind it. It went pretty high up the roof too, but not all the way.

  Now, onto the wall itself. It was made of the usual Cyborg steel, as far as I could tell (it wasn't exactly very bright in here), but it wasn't a flat wall. Instead, the tip of it poked outwards away from the main vehicle a metre or two and then smoothed back towards the thing. It looked almost ridiculously like the front end of one of those fast pointy trains - you know the ones.

  "How does this thing... move?" I asked incredulously. It was big, and it looked way too heavy to be a moveable transport.

  "I'm assuming a vast array of wheels", Phill guessed, "along with some way of supplying power."

  "Correct", Slob said. "They are capable of travelling in either direction", he added.

  "What's the smooth point for?" I asked.

  'Wind resistance", Matt said. "There's still air down here, after all. Human trains have them as well. Didn't you know that?" I just shrugged, but I felt kind of stupid. I'd just compared them to trains without thinking about the reason that trains have them.

  "How fast do these transports travel then?" I asked. "If they're fast enough to have wind resistance be a factor, they must be pretty fast."

  Slob told me, "They are not relatively fast, but the shape reduces energy requirement by a small amount. This is on all transports, and has no additional cost once installed."

  "So the power savings, while insignificant for an individual vehicle, add up across all vehicles and after a sufficiently long time of usage", Phill speculated.

  "How do the transports receive their power then?" asked Boy.

  "A large battery stores power", Slob began, "which is continually recharged by hardline connections through the wall."

  "The grooves!" Phill exclaimed. "That is their purpose; the vehicle has conductive connectors inserted into all four grooves at all times, which supplies their electricity." And here I thought they were just for good looks.

  "Correct", Slob told him. "They are also used to transport our hardline communications across the planet."

  Matthew chuckled. "So that's how you communicate without using the network. These tunnels already crisscross PDN, and they already have these straight holes in them to supply power, so they're also used as telephone cables. Well, technically not, but you get the idea - they transport communication signals all over the place. Ingenious! Multipurpose utilities triumph yet again!"

  Phill nodded at this, but I didn't really get it. They talked to each other through communication lines set in their tunnels - cool and smart, I guess, but ingenious? Or was I just being human-arrogant, cause we have some pretty neat ideas of our own? Well, everyone else was sure impressed.

  "How many Cyborgs fit in this thing?" asked Rosetta, meaning the transport.

  "Up to thirty", Slob said. "Twenty is more common."

  "And does it make a deep, rumbling noise when it moves?" Matt asked him. "Cause we heard something like that last time we were here."

  "Yes."

  "Why?" asked Boy. "Can't you stop that?"

  "It was made purposefully", Slob explained. "Any Cyborgs in the tunnel will know if a transport is moving. We can also manually connect to these 'grooves' to get a report of where it is and where it is going."

  "Sweet", Matthew complimented the system. I had a sudden image of Slob blushing with pleasure at this, and very nearly threw up.

  When no one said anything for a bit, one of the Cyborgs started to speak in that clicking dialect again. Heh - I just called a completely undecipherable alien language (which pushes the bounds of what a 'language' is) a 'dialect'. I was becoming quite alien-tolerant, wasn't I?

  Once they were finished talking, most of the Cyborgs approached the wall-vehicle, and one of them stuck some part of itself into the groove just before it disappeared behind the transport. I wasn't really looking, and I didn't really want to know exactly what it'd put there.

  A small doorway, just big enough to admit a Cyborg, opened on one side of the vehicle. I guessed that that Cyborg had sent an open command through the groove line, which was sent to the vehicle. Kind of like the Slugs and their spike system. Man, the more you learn about how different all these races are, the more you realise how similar they all are in the end.

  The majority of Slob's entourage filed into the transport, and the doorway closed. "We are done here", Slob said, and began to walk towards our group and thus out of the tunnel.

  But I wasn't going anywhere until I saw that transport move first, so I waited a bit as the remainder of Slob's group walked past me, and hoped to God that one of them wouldn't think it would be funny to punch my arm. None did, luckily, and a short time after, the walls (the real walls, not the vehicle) began to rumble as the thing powered up. It wasn't particularly loud, but I knew from experience that the sound travelled far, so that any Cyborg who happened to be down here knew to get out of the way. Slob had said that they weren't very fast, and they weren't really, but as for me, I still wouldn't want to be hit by one of those things.

  Once it started to rumble away from us, I turned around. "Time to head back up", I said. "Does this mean we're leaving PDN now to go to Slugma?"


  "Nah", Matthew said. "We never actually promised Slob that, if you were paying attention. And besides, we need to go back to Slugenis to give them the go-ahead to begin breeding the one hundred Honour-less Slugs before we go to Slugma."

  "What?" I asked, shocked. "We're going back? I thought that we'd just send them a signal, and then meet them all at Slugma? You said that the new Slugs were about to be formed from the pool of slime the last time we were there."

  "We said that they were prepared to be formed", Boy said. "If we had formed them then, all of those Slugs would have now been on Slugenis for decades, doing nothing. We've spent a lot of time getting to PDN, you know."

  Carmen continued, "And if we send them a signal from here, and then go to Slugma, we'll be waiting there for years while the radiowave travels through space to get to Slugenis. So we have to go back to begin the breeding, and then all travel together to Slugma, where Slob will hopefully be with his army of Cyborgs."

  "Don't say 'army' ", Matthew told her. "Call it a 'diplomatic attaché' instead. But we won't be on Slugenis for long, just long enough to check out the formation of the newborn Slugs."

  "Alright then", I said. "In any case, I'm sick of this boring tunnel and the vehicle is long gone now" - well, I could still hear it and just make it out, but it was long gone enough - "so let's go back upstairs."

  Phill turned and began the walk back upwards. After a bit, we all started to follow him back up the ramp into the building, and back up towards Slob.

  As we were laboriously making our way up the ramp (luckily we weren't on Slugenis, where I would've been hot), I complained, "I'm thirsty."

  "Perhaps you should have brought your backpack", Phill said, "which contained your supply of water."

  "I would've looked dumb carrying that thing around on my back!" I protested. "I'm supposed to be an alien ambassador, not a student!"

  "I thought you were a student", Boy said. "You're at the age of school-attendance, and you were at school when we came to Earth the first time."

  Matthew shook his head at his friend. "But", he said, "and this is a big 'But', he isn't actually currently attending school, which defines who is a student and who is not. So he's therefore not a student, and so not required to carry around a backpack which'll make him look dumb."

  "Whether or not he is classified as a student does not change his requirement to carry an adequate supply of water with him", Phill tried to lecture him.

  "It's alright on PDN, anyway", Carmen said. "There's plenty of grass to drink from if you get dehydrated."

  "True dat", Matthew said as we crested the ramp, and walked up to Slob who had been waiting for us.

  "The location of Slugma", he said, just assuming that we were ready to tell him.

  Matt turned to Phill. "That's your department", he said. "Go with our blessing."

  Phill said nothing, but approached Slob and began to talk to him.

  Now, I'm sure that listening to them would be important and all, but it didn't seem to me that listening to Slob trying to figure out where Slugma was based solely on its description would be particularly riveting. Probably something like, 'It's volcanic.' 'Is it this world?' 'No. It's small.' 'How about this world.' 'No.' Not very enthralling stuff, you see.

  So instead, I turned to Matthew and said, "Guess what? I just remembered that you owe me an explanation on purple. So cough it up."

  "It would be difficult to understand him if he were coughing while explaining it", Boy told me seriously.

  "I don't think Slugs can cough anyway", Rosetta added.

  "Oh yeah?" Matt accepted the challenge. "Check this out!" He then coughed in a flawless imitation of what a normal cough sounds like. You'd never know that he actually didn't have lungs, or a stomach, just by hearing that.

  "Perfect", I congratulated him. "But what do other Slugs do to get non-food stuff out of their bodies if they can't cough it up?"

  "Simple", Boy said. "We just widen our mouths wide enough, and reach inside to take it out." ...OK then. I think an 'Eww' is called for here. "But you've forgotten your original question", Boy then reminded me.

  "Oh", I gasped. "You tried to wriggle your way out of it, didn't you Matthew? It's not going to be so easy for you!"

  "Haha", he laughed. "You haven't seen me wriggle at my full strength. For example - think about this." He gave a truly devious smile and then continued. "You know that we Slugs don't have bones. But if that is so, how do we stand upright, and keep our posture?" He leaned in towards me and jeered, "You want to know, don't you? Come on, just ask. Just a little question, and I'll tell you, I'll tell you everything. All you need to do... is ask."

  I'd never before wondered how they stood upright without bones - but now that I knew there was something there, I was insanely curious to find out. I probably would've fallen for it too, but Matthew's sneering face snapped me back to my God-given duty.

  "No", I said resolutely. "Tell me the purple thing first, and we can talk about that later."

  Boy laughed, and Matt sighed. "Your willpower is proving to be stronger than I expected, my young apprentice. Very well then. I can't tell you here, plus Phill ought to be in on the action too, so I'll tell you on the ship. Deal?"

  "Promise?" I asked him, narrowing my eyes.

  "Deal", he said, and held out his hand to shake mine with a smile on his face.

  "Ahh, I'll just take your word for it", I said, not taking his hand. I remembered what he'd done when the Prime Minister on our last visit to Earth had shook his hand in greeting, and I had no intention of letting that happen to me. I almost shuddered just thinking about it.

  Meanwhile, Phill said, "We are finished. Slob knows which planet Slugma is - it's a little world designated as PA-7049:B."

  "Wow, wow, wow", Matthew quickly said. "Don't anyone here get any funny ideas of trying to override my name. Slugma is what it's called! And PAB sounds stupid, anyway. Not the same as PDN."

  "It is time for you to leave", Slob ignored Matthew and told us. Well, he didn't sound very impressed with the name we'd given his already-classified planet. Too bad.

  For some crazy reason, Matt strolled up to him, gave him a huge smile, and threw his arm over his shoulder. "Come now, Slobby-boy. You don't wanna chuck us off here, do you? We're cool, we clean up after our mess, we don't make too much noise and keep you awake at night. Don't make me force-persuade you!"

  Slob squirmed out of his embrace (I don't know how a machine can squirm, but he managed it), and said, "We had an agreement."

  "Come on!" Matt said as he folded his arms on his chest. "You're being mean."

  "Don't worry", Boy the diplomat assured Slob. "We'll leave as soon as we get back to our ship." He turned to the rest of us. "Let's head over now, everyone."

  He began to leave the building, and we all followed him (Matthew somewhat reluctantly, and still sulking).

  As we left, I said to Phill, "Guess what? Matt promised me that, once we get back on the ship, he'd finally explain the Slug's purple obsession to us!"

  "It appears that you have been productive", Phill complimented me - I think.

  "Aha!" the Slug in question announced, no longer upset. "You've made a fatal error in not reading the fine print of our contract, my friend. And since it was a verbal contract, that means that you didn't listen to the fine words. Finer words have never been spoken! But anyway, I promised you that I'd tell you on the ship, and I have no obligation to remind you of this. I didn't say when; and the ship travel lasts at least a month. So if I don't plan to tell you until the very end of the voyage, by the time that comes around, you will have totally forgotten! Muahaha!"

  I stared at him. "I hate you", I said.

  Rosetta said to me, "Don't fret, I have a plan that will undo him completely. If he doesn't tell you when you ask, I'll tell you. There's no way he'll let anyone other than himself explain it, so that'll force him to do it straight away before I do."

  "Ah, thank you very much, Rosetta", I said, satisfied. Her plan was
sure to work - after all that he'd tormented me over it, Matthew would never let anyone else finally give the explanation.

  "Hmmm", he mused. "I suppose that I'll just have to... kill every Slug onboard the ship." He gave a crazy grin. "That'll fix you guys up."

  "I don't know", I said. "I mean, sure you're good and all, and say you actually wanted to kill everyone... do you reckon you could take Boy, Frank, Rosetta and Carmen all on at once?"

  "Probably not in an enclosed place like an interstellar ship", Boy said. "But if he could get at us out in the open, take on less than all four of us at a time..."

  "That's enough of this conversation", Phill stopped us. What, was it distressing him or something? It was only hypothetical. He went on, "Such a situation won't happen, and so it is meaningless to speculate. Let's focus on getting back to the scout ship."

  "Fine", Matt said. "But we'll walk really slowly, since we only told Slob that we'd head back on over, but not how soon we'd get there."

  "Another fine word in a verbal contract?" I asked.

  "Exactly", he smiled.

  The Cyborg

  As we manually travelled back to our scout ship to commence our departure of the planet, I contemplated our position with the Cyborgs.

  I considered;

  Slob now knew the location of Slugma, due to our previous correspondence, and so knew that he was to meet us there. I had also given him the approximate time that the two races would meet, based on an estimate given to me by Matthew while we discussed our plan on board the ship while travelling to PDN.

  However, there were several possible problems which may arise.

  1st, it is possible that Slob simply lied about meeting us at Slugma, and had no intention of any Cyborg going there. As for why he would lie rather than simply say no, the only possibility is that he disbelieved Matthew's claim that his threat of a bomb was founded on an untruth; our group was not a threat to him without this nonexistent bomb, and there is no other reason why he should wish to make us believe he agreed with us if he actually didn't. The only issue this presented was why he would think that Matthew lied about the lack of an explosive device if in actuality there was one. I could think of no viable hypothesis for this, and thus dismissed this conclusion.

  2nd, I could not discount the fact that Slob was planning to launch an attack on the Slugs once our side had landed on Slugma, and thus take out a major contingent of enemy forces. If I feared such an outcome, then the Cyborgs, if they planning no such betrayal, feared that the Slugs would do much the same to them. The Slugs' Honour was not the Human interpretation of honour; Slugs did not care how they killed Cyborgs, and whether or not it was considered a 'fair fight', any more than we cared about how we killed them. Based on this, it seemed that perhaps Ethan's suggestion of landing one ship at a time, while greatly inefficient, would be the most effective way to proceed from that point.

  3rd, the truth was that it was very likely that the Cyborgs would arrive at Slugma amiably enough, but with no real conviction or motivation to achieve a peace. They would not initiate a battle without provocation - or so I hope - but would fully expect a battle to nonetheless occur. In this case, they treat Slugma as simply another staging ground for the war, albeit with some pointless interaction beforehand. It was also entirely possible that the Slug king thought the same thing; that they'd go to Slugma, but only because they wanted to bring a large force for when the fighting breaks out.

  I judged this scenario to be the most likely, and it seemed that Matthew's idea to bring approximately 200 Slugs - almost an army unto itself - and the Cyborgs doing the same would only exacerbate the issue. It would not be difficult for a small fight to occur somewhere among this large number of participants, and for that to spread to an outright war.

  It was of a high level of necessity, therefore, to exercise great control over all sides to the negotiations, and to limit the points of contact and only entrust these points to older Slugs and Cyborg leaders who understand the important of facilitating the minimum of a ceasefire. Based on the difficulty that this task presents, I should consider the mission a success if we get through it without any fighting occurring, regardless of any other outcome.

  "Oy, Phil", Ethan directed at me. I diverted my processes away from these thoughts, and focused the majority of my attention on him.

  "What is it?" I asked him.

  "You know Slugma, or this PB place? Well, do you know what number it is on that level-scale thing that you Cyborgs use? You know, how Earth is a 4?"

  "Earth has most likely graduated to a higher level by now", I informed him. "As to Slugma, I have no information. However, I assume that it is a low-level world, as it is small and volcanic, and therefore unlikely to contain any liquid water."

  "Life can evolve without water", Boy told me.

  He was correct, but further elucidation was required. "Water is not a prerequisite for life", I responded, "but it is a great catalyst. You will find that the number of planets with water greatly exceeds those without in terms of the amount and variety of life forms."

  "Why is that?" asked Ethan.

  "Simple", Matthew stated. "It's easier to evolve in primordial muck than on a sun-baked rock. But Phil, answer me this: you keep speaking of this leveling-scale that you guys use, but you've never told us what the numbers actually mean, or if they're just arbitrary."

  It appeared that none of my companions were informed about this topic; it time for me to rectify that.

  "They are far from arbitrary", I began. "Each numeral in the scale signifies a definable and definite milestone for the evolution of life on a particular world."

  "And those milestones are?" asked Ethan.

  I complied. "0 is for a world which either lacks any form of life or contains only microscopic, unicellular life. 1 represents the presence of multicellular life. 2 has two interpretations; for a water-based world it means that land-based life has evolved, while for a water-free world it means that complex life forms have evolved that are capable of supporting a relatively large body-size. 3 indicates that a particular life form has developed a method of complex communication which is capable of transferring abstract concepts and thoughts between members of the species. 4 signifies that a species has achieved a means of transportation and travel over the majority of the world."

  "So that's what we're at", Ethan said.

  "The last that we know of", I reminded him, "which was some time ago. Continuing on; 5 means that the species has attained dominance over their world, in terms of population and food-chain order."

  "We've attained dominance, while I was living there!" Ethan exclaimed in defence of his native race.

  I turned to look at him. "In some regard. Perhaps you were close to becoming a level-5 world but not close enough. As at that time, you had yet to populate a large enough proportion of Earth, and there were still many wild predators which were capable of killing Humans."

  "And the Slugs aren't the same?" he asked. "They only live on capital cities at the poles of Slugenis, and I'm sure there are predators around that could kill them."

  "Not with our Metal Slug", Matt input.

  "The Slugs are a different case", I said to Ethan, "as they are at a different stage of development, and thus at a different level of the scale. You cannot compare yourself to them."

  He grudgingly acceded to me, which confused me; if he accepted that I was correct, why did he appear to be unhappy about it? He should be glad that I have broadened his knowledge.

  However, I couldn't try to impose the order of logic on a primarily illogical species. Were they embroiled in a war as all-consuming as ours, their logic would soon also reign supreme; the Slugs were a typical example of this, a race which had been forced to sacrifice its values of life in order to survive.

  I continued, "6 connotes that the race has taken to space, and begun to explore, set up colonies on other planetary bodies, and expand their sphere of influence. 7 signals that they have reached a multi-world stage, whereb
y their population on worlds other than the home planet exceeds their population on the home planet. Finally, the 8th level is simply the Slugs, which serves only as a relative measure against which all other species are judged."

  As I finished, we came within range of our landed scout ship.

  "Here we are", Boy said. "It's time to leave." He looked at Matthew as he said this.

  "If it pleases you", Matt smiled in a feigned display of subservience. "But, mark my words, I'll get my revenge for this! Have you marked them? Like, like a permanent marker, cause it could take me a while to get my revenge, and we don't want the mark to fade away with time."

  "Everything fades away given enough time", I informed him. He grinned at me, but I could not discern the message he intended to convey with the action.

  "Okay then, back aboard", Ethan said loudly. "From what I understand, we're heading back to Slugenis for a short stop, then onto Slugma."

  "Road trip!" Matthew announced.

  "We will not be travelling on any roads", I chose to remind him. "Therefore, a more correct term is 'space trip'."