The Slug Inception

by Matthew Pelly

  Chapter 9 - The rend

  The Human

  "Well", I said awkwardly. "This sucks." Matthew had gone galloping off, as had Carmen and Frank (in a different direction), leaving Rosetta, Phill and I on our lonesome.

  "I suggest that we follow Matthew's advice, and stay here", Phill, well, suggested. "The less we stray from this cluster of Cyborg ships, the greater his chance of finding us when he returns."

  "I guess so", Rosetta told him. I looked up at the sky to see how the ash cloud was going (still no real clouds, for those who want an update). It was still there, and very noticeable, but the majority of it was far above us now. Not likely for me to breathe in I hope, so maybe I wouldn't die of asphyxiation after all. I took a guess that because the ash and dust was a lot thinner this far out from the point of eruption, it was lighter and therefore had rises higher in the air. And yes, I know that I know a lot about science.

  "Ethan", Phill said. "I'm sure that we can stand here in silence, but there is no doubt some pressing questions which you might like to put forward to us instead since we have time."

  "Uhh, probably", I said. "I can never think of anything when I'm on the spot like this though."

  "Then allow me to suggest one", he said, and turned to Rosetta. "How is it that Slugs create the necessary suction for breath? As they haven't evolved with the requirement, you must have discovered some way to do so."

  "Yes we have", she answered, and got ready to give some explanations, usually the domain of Matthew, Phill, and sometimes Boy. "Firstly, we usually have an empty space inside us which is connected to our mouths and full of air, which is the secondary place for oxygen to absorb into our bodies. As you know, slime naturally absorbs oxygen from the surrounding atmosphere, which means that we can't control it or hold our breath or anything like that.

  "As to the breathing; we need this air space to actually talk, but we also need a good flow of air passing into and out of our mouths to do so. We do this by manipulating the outer walls of the slime surrounding the air space itself. By getting every slime cell around this space - up to a few centimetres away from the actual hole itself - to squeeze its outer wall close to the cell, all of the slime becomes contracted and concentrated. This concentrated slime means that the total size of the cell is smaller, that each cell is taking up less space in the hole, and therefore the space of air is at its maximum size.

  "Then, by expanding each of these cells' outer walls as far from the inner cell as we can, they spread out and become thinned. This spreading out means that the total size of each cell is at its largest, and therefore, the space of air is at its minimum size. It's by cycling the movement of the slime cells' outer walls between their most concentrated and most thinned states, and in unison, that the air space cycles from its smallest size to its largest. And it's this changing from small to large, then large to small, that either forces air out of our mouths or sucks air into our mouths."

  I took a moment to register all of that (and probably still didn't register it properly), then asked, "So you draw in breath and breathe out by changing the size of your lungs-slash-stomach?"

  "I believe that the human system works in a similar way", Phill said. "Your diaphragm is used to expand and shrink the capacity of your lungs, thus producing an identical effect."

  "I wouldn't know about that", I laughed a little, "all I know is think that I want to breathe, and then I do. But as for you", I turned to the machine, "how does your mouth work? How do you talk, and for that matter, why would you even have a mouth in the first place?" Good question, right?

  "An entirely different reason", he replied. "In an attempt to answer all of those questions which you haphazardly put forward, I should start by saying that a Cyborg cannot speak without minor modifications having first been made. We require a system of lips, although perhaps that term isn't quite accurate, and a small speaker before them in order to first vibrate and then shape the air flows that naturally exit from our mouth."

  "And why are those air flows already there?" Rosetta asked him, having satisfied herself with her own descriptions.

  He explained, "All Cyborgs generate heat, and we require an effective way to remove this heat. On ships, and for the heat generated by the ships themselves, this heat is simply bled into space, as it is not required or stored like the Slugs' excess heat. This is feasible due to the absolute zero temperature of space." I had to take a short timeout here to commend whoever thought of the phrase 'absolute zero' on making such a confusing name for that temperature. I mean, if you weren't a scientist or a numerologist, you'd just think that it meant normal zero, right? Lucky there was some stuff about the world I knew, otherwise I'd be really baffled right now.

  Back to important stuff, Phill continued. "On a planet, however, and in the presence of an atmosphere, such a strategy is not as effective. We therefore need a way to more quickly remove heat from our system, lest the temperature reach an unsustainable level. This is why we have mouths, and why we have air flows inside our bodies which we only need manipulate in order to form into speech.

  "The Cyborg body is covered with small-to-mid-sized holes, each of which connect to an internal system of empty pipes intersecting throughout our insides. When we are in a low or no atmosphere environment, small valves seal these openings. Otherwise, tiny pumps inside these pipes push the air throughout our body. During times of excessive heat generation, this additional warmth is absorbed into the relatively cooler air, and is thus expelled from our system. This is how we remove heat."

  "That's all well and good", I told him, "and pretty cool at that, but why is it that the biggest hole happens to be exactly where a human mouth is?"

  "I was getting to that", he almost scolded me, "have patience. Cyborgs actually have several 'mouths', although that word is not what they actually are. Of these special air holes in us, the standard Cyborg unit, of which I am a standard combat pilot, contains four. For each Cyborg, the system of internal air pipes is identical - "

  Rosetta interrupted him with, "I thought that each Cyborg in a particular category was made with a different internal configuration than other Cyborgs?"

  "They are", he explained. "However, this does not apply to air pipes, which are applied universally amongst all standard combat and pilot units, along with other liquid transportation tubes. It is only vital internal components that can be set in a variety of locations, such as CPUs and memory, that are stored in differing locations in order to provide an element of unpredictability in a fight.

  "As I was saying, each Cyborg has an identical system of air pipes. However, each Cyborg's CPU is located in a different location, and it is at the CPU that we require the most cooling. In order to address this issue, these four large air holes are located at various points around our body so as to ensure that at least one of them will be sufficiently near any one Cyborg's CPU. It just so happens that one of these locations is on my face, at the approximate location of a human mouth, and this is the one that Matthew chose to convert into my mouth."

  I was stunned. "So you actually have four of these holes? So if Matt really wanted to, he could've chosen for you to speak out of your butt instead?"

  Phill smiled. "I have no such location at my equivalent of a 'butt'. There is one on each of my legs, and another on my lower back. Matthew's purpose was to ensure I could pass as an acceptable human, not to do such things for no reason."

  "I suppose", I said, still unable to get a talking-out-of-his-ass Phill out of my head. I'm not sure if that would be hilarious or disgusting.

  "So that means that your CPU is somewhere near your head, lower back, or legs", Rosetta reasoned.

  "That could be deduced", Phill replied guardedly. I'd picked up on the fact that he was pretty reluctant to tell us exactly where his brain was. What, was he scared of revealing his weak point to us or something? If I was the kind to read really deep into the smallest actions, and never attribute anything to a harmless quirk, I'd totally take that as a sign of mistrust. As I
wasn't the kind, however, I just took it that he was scared I'd punch him too hard one day and accidentally kill him.

  "Well, that's enough for now", I closed our discussion off. "I'm thirsty. Rosetta, want a drink?" I got out one of my water bottles. I was starting to get kinda hungry, too, but didn't want to waste one of my nutrition bars just yet.

  "No thanks, not yet", she replied. Probably didn't want human-cooties.

  "I'm already sick of waiting", I complained as I finished my gulp and plopped myself down on the dirt ground (it was fun to do that in Slugma's low gravity - you should try it out sometime).

  "Get used to it", Phill advised me. And it was good advice indeed.

  The Slug

  The group of seven Slugs I was with and I were moving fast. We were on the lookout for any other groups of Slugs and Cyborgs locked in a fight, and our official instructions were to break them up. But none of the Slugs with me would honestly try; they were each bound by their own Honour, and they would want nothing more than to jump into those same fights which we were supposed to be stopping.

  It wasn't their fault, either; I didn't blame them for living how they had lived their whole lives. And they weren't doing it consciously, as their Honour only demands that they attempt to save their live enough to satisfy their conscience. And as they desperately wanted to die, they would honestly believe that they'd given it their best effort long before they truly had.

  But I was different. I planned to break up a maximum of three fights, should we even find any, and then head back to Ethan, Phill, and Rosetta, regardless of what this imposter group said to me. I was older than all of them, and as long as I'd fulfilled the orders of my elder, who hadn't specified how long we were to do this, I could do what I like and be justified. All would be well soon.

  We had only just set out, the group of Cyborg landing craft had only just gotten far enough that we couldn't make them out, when we found another fight. And it was a bad one.

  Without having to touch them, without having to even analyse them, I could tell that these were newborn Slugs, not Honour-bound and not willing to sacrifice themselves to win a battle. There was a bunch of them, about eight who'd run away from the main body of Slugs like all the others; it appeared that all the Slugs just ran in different directions when they met the Cyborg resistance at their closest landing site.

  Their opposition was about five Cyborgs, at a guess, and they were winning. It wasn't strange for five of them to be winning against eight of us, especially young Slugs in their first fight; but these Slugs had no hope of winning, the way that they were going. A Slug nearby me touched me as we travelled towards them, and sent me its gratitude that the younger Slugs were so inexperienced that they'd die very shortly and hence gain their Honour. A hint of jealousy was in that gratitude. One hint too many.

  The differences between the Honour-bound and these newborns was pretty obvious, now that they were in battle. Each of them was out for themselves, fighting in self-defence, not helping out their fellows. They were in this fight to survive, not to win, and that misalignment of priorities would ensure that they failed to both survive and win.

  A usual fight, while segmenting into various sub-battles within the overall skirmish, was still part of an integrated whole; a Slug in one small fight would still strike out at an enemy from a different fight at every opportunity. Such behaviour was risky, as it left an opening in their own little battle, but it helped the group as a whole immensely, and the Cyborg they were versing was likely to be struck from behind by other Slugs displaying the same behaviour.

  There was none of that happening here. Each Slug cared little for the others, as they hadn't been given enough time to form any long-lasting bonds with them. Slugs were slow to befriend, and even slower to develop meaningful relationships, so that such groupings as Boy and I weren't too common. I'd always thought that that was due to Honour, but perhaps it was a part of our nature as well.

  It was due to lack of Honour, though, that no Slug was willing to jeopardise their own survival by assisting another Slug in a different sub-fight; they were focusing solely on their own opponents, and ignoring all else. Normal Honour-bound Slugs cared little for their own lives - due to the very nature of Honour which they lived their lives by - and so did not scruple to decrease their own odds of living if they could help out a fellow Slug.

  In this case, no Slug was helping out another. This meant that every Slug was worse off, and liable to be struck by a Cyborg from a different fight, as the enemy used the same vital tactics. With the Slugs not working as a cohesive whole, the Slugs would lose. That was it. These newly-formed Slugs were made to be diplomatic and avoid fighting, not to be good in a fight.

  My group had now reached them. The Cyborgs had surely caught sight of the eight of us rushing in, doubling the Slugs' numbers, and yet they had done nothing about it except position themselves away from us; perhaps they thought we were also as weak as them, and that they could take us, or perhaps there were Cyborg reinforcements also coming in that we didn't know about.

  If the first scenario were true, they were dead wrong. The Slugs with me here, irrespective of their inherent repulsiveness, were trained and hardened veterans. If a Slug reaches one cycle old, they are classified a veteran in my books, and even in my manuscripts too, and most of the Slugs with me here were over one. One of them was actually four, a highly respectable age. The Cyborgs would find this to be a losing battle for them, should we join in; the objective, of course, was for the battle to end, not continue.

  We stopped at the Slug side of the skirmish, which had devolved into the two sides standing back from each other, appraising the enemy. Now was the time to act; if this failed, I would soon find myself embroiled in a kill-or-be-killed brawl.

  'Does any of you speak Human?' I asked the Cyborg group. 'Any of you? We must talk before it's too late.'

  'Yes', one of them answered, but it seemed it was the only one. The rest were looking at me though; good enough.

  'You know why we came here', I told them, emphasising each word and then pointing at the ground. 'To stop this!' I pointed at them, and then the Slugs they were just fighting. 'To stop all of this! We have to put an end to our differences, before it's too late, before it's far too late.'

  'Communications have failed', one of them told me in the usual monotone. 'We believe differently than Slob or Rabadootime.'

  'Rabadootime's here?' I nearly gasped, properly astonished. So he had come after all. Well, it was only a matter of time before I ran into that old guy again. I hope he didn't feel he had a score to settle with me. I then asked my informant, 'What do you mean, you believe differently? Do you not realise the value of a peace between our people?'

  'We were made to kill Slugs', it said with its perfectly unreasonable logic. It felt as if it almost shrugged. 'That is what we shall do.'

  I had to shake my head at that. 'How wrong', I told it. 'How wrong you are, my friend.' It wasn't my friend, nowhere near my friend, but perhaps calling it that would do something. Doubtful, but it was better than nothing. Although, on second thought, maybe nothing was better.

  'If we don't put a stop to this', I went on, 'there'd be nothing left to fight, nothing left to kill or be killed by. Is that what you want? To end everything in that way?'

  My hope was little that I'd put a stop to this. Anything I could say in such a short time period would not convince these Cyborgs of anything.

  That was when one of the newborn Slugs spoke up. 'Why were you made to kill us?' I hadn't known that it could speak, and wished that it had done so beforehand. But I was grateful now.

  A second Cyborg turned its attention to the Slug. This was strange, as, when a Cyborg leader was around, no one communicated apart from them; that must mean that none of these Cyborgs are leaders. Not entirely helpful, but interesting nonetheless.

  'You kill us', it said.

  That Slug replied, 'We shall stop killing you then. We don't need to do so.' And with that, the virtue o
f being Honour-free revealed itself. All one had to do to stop a fight was to simply stop fighting. A normal Honour-bound Slug would never say such a thing; they wanted, more than anything, to die, and they'd sooner kiss one of these Cyborgs than suggest a truce. Although, seeing a Slug kiss a Cyborg would be kinda funny.

  'You stop killing us, we stop killing you', the first Cyborg said. 'Our purposes would then be void.'

  It was my turn to step in. 'You must find another purpose', I told it, 'another reason for your existence. You cannot live your life only thinking about doing the things you were made for; that's what machines do, what unthinking robots do, and you're so far from that, so far indeed. You Cyborgs are free-thinking, sentient beings, and you can easily break free of your constraints. I already know of one Cyborg who has done so, and he wishes that all of you could see things the way that he does.'

  'We stop killing each other', the Slug finished up. I noticed that the Honour-bound Slugs with me, some of which could also speak, I was sure, were all in communication with each other. Probably complaining about the way things were turning out, and lamenting their probable lack of Honour. Well, they would have to deal with it; I cared little for what they wanted.

  'For now', the second Cyborg said, and started to cautiously back away. Trust between our peoples was a long ways off, a long ways off indeed, but perhaps one day it would be at the point where they wouldn't have to cautiously back away from us. Not that I intended to be around when it did, of course.

  The first Cyborg followed the second's example, and soon four of them were backing up, one of them sporting an injured leg. The final two Cyborgs, as there had actually been six in total, hesitated for a moment longer. It was clear that they didn't agree with the rest of the group, but if they stayed to fight, they would surely die. As the Cyborgs had no repulsive cultural system as the Slugs, they had no wish to end their lives prematurely and soon followed.

  Phill had described his race as a democratic species, and this was a good example of it. If a leader had been in the fight, of course, they would be the one to collate the votes and relay the group's decision to us. In this case, there was no vote, as the Cyborgs couldn't communicate with each other outside of English. But things had worked out alright in the end.

  'Let's go', I told our extended group. 'We have to go and see if there are any more fights going on, and break them up as well.' I purposely didn't count the number of bodies on the ground, Slugs that had fallen before we arrived. Those newborn had not received or felt Honour for their deaths, no Honour at all; I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

  At that, we all took off in the same direction together, our group now made up of around sixteen Slugs. With one down, we had two more fights to intervene in before I was out of here and back to my real friends. Out of here for good.

  The Cyborg

  Ethan was not yet done expressing his dissatisfaction at our lack of activity. "I'm bored", he simply said.

  "You're always bored", Rosetta informed him, although it wasn't strictly true.

  "Maybe", the Human replied. "But maybe that's just because you're not good at keeping me not bored."

  "It is not our responsibility to ensure that you remain adequately entertained", I told him. He smiled to himself and did not respond.

  We had been waiting nearby the Cyborg landing craft for some time now, and the volcanic cloud, judging by my visual perception of it, seemed to have greatly dispersed in the atmosphere above us. I predicted that while surface-to-space communications might still be hampered, surface-to-surface communication, such as the Cyborg network connections, should be operational in a short period of time, even if at a limited capacity.

  Since Matthew had left our presence at the order of his superior, nothing of note had occurred. The 3 of us were sitting on the dirt ground, having cleared the largest rocks away from us lest Ethan sat on them and injured himself. He and Rosetta had consumed approximately 3/4 of 1 of his bottles of water, and he had eaten 1 of his nutritional bars, a large supply of which remained on our star cruiser. Matthew had wisely planned well ahead by acquiring such a bulky volume of the Human food.

  Although nothing of interest had happened, and Ethan was complaining about this lack of excitement, I took it as a good thing. We were not in any danger as long as nothing happened, and could remain where we were in relative safety. We had not seen any Slugs or Cyborgs since Matt left us, and had no information as to the current events on Slugma, but we were in no immediate risk.

  The failure of Frank, Carmen, Boy, and Matthew to return, however, was worrying. I had attempted to consider where they could be and what they could be doing, but could fathom no acceptable answer with a probability more significant than any other option. As such I contented myself to wait for time to bring more information to us.

  As always, time brought it, as time always brought everything. I spied a group moving towards us at a sufficient distance to ensure that I could not determine the species.

  "There's someone coming", I called Rosetta and Ethan's attention to it, as they were in a conversation about irrelevant matters.

  "Oh, I see them too", Ethan said after a moment. "I wonder if they're friendly or not? Should we hide?"

  "Where?" Rosetta asked. "We could probably hide behind one of these ships, but that wouldn't do us much good; they'll surely search the whole area before they move on."

  "I guess", Ethan replied, and continued to strain to see the incoming force.

  After a short period of time, it was obvious who they were. "Cyborgs", Rosetta said ominously. I was unsure as to why she utilised such a tone of voice, when both Ethan and myself knew perfectly well that it was not a lucky occurrence.

  "Now what?" Ethan asked. "Are they on our side? Is Slob in that group? We just don't know!"

  "We must assume that they are hostile", I told my companions, my decision regarding our best course of action already made. "In that case, they will more than likely attack us on sight, as we cannot know how Matthew's likely attempted peacekeeping efforts have progressed."

  "So we're pretty much dead, then?" Ethan asked.

  "No", I told him. "Out of the 3 of us, they will be least likely to kill me. Therefore, you 2 will hide behind one of the ships, as Rosetta suggested, while I shall advance forward and meet them. I will hopefully be able to convince them that there is nothing of interest here, and they will move on their way."

  Rosetta shook her head. "We can't do that, what if they attack you? You'll be on your own with no help!"

  I used my hand to indicate the group. "There are approximately 9 of them; I'd rather be on my own with no help than have all of us die."

  Looking to Ethan, I waited for his opinion. The Human had always held great sway over our group, although I was unsure as to whether he understood his own influence or not. He hesitantly replied, "Well we can't run, and as Rosetta said, we can't all hide." He looked towards the group. "There's way too many for the 2 of you to try and fight. I think that Phil's right. We'll stay out of sight, while you go ahead and tell them that all's well over here, and that you're just keeping watch over the ships." He harshly pointed his finger at me. "But you make sure that nothing bad happens to you, okay? Otherwise, who will Rosetta and I complain to?"

  I smiled at his sentimental statement hidden behind a jest. "I shall do my best", I told them. "Now go, before they notice that there is more than 1 figure here."

  The two of them quickly ceased exposing themselves by sitting behind one of the Cyborg craft, relative to the incoming Cyborgs. I strode out to meet them as far from the ships as I could, to minimise the chance of them accidentally seeing one of my friends.

  When I had approached verbal hearing range, I spoke, "English", as a question, as was the Cyborg manner. I did not want them to know my identity. I also quickly ascertained that Slob was not in this group; not a good thing, but it was never very likely, either.

  "Yes", one of them replied.

  "Yes", replied another.

>   "Yes", spoke a 3rd.

  None other said anything, which I took to mean that only these 3 could do so. It also meant that no Cyborg here was a leader, otherwise they would be the only one to speak.

  "I have been watching the ships", I told them, striving to make my speech as efficient as possible lest they guess who I was. "Nothing to report so far." Too late, I realised that 'nothing to report' was a Human phrase, not something that a Cyborg, which knew only Human words and form but not common structures, would know. However, I quickly understood that, as Cyborgs did not know phrases such as this, they would not recognise when someone else used one. I remained safe, for now.

  "No enemies", one of them told me. "We are searching the area. Come."

  "Yes", another said.

  That was not good. "That is not necessary", I told them, hoping that I was not yet at the stage where my voice indicated my current thoughts. "I should stay to ensure the safety of the craft. What if enemies do come?"

  Once again, a fatal flaw. I had asked my final question as if it were a question; all Cyborgs we had met so far did not use that inquiring inflection. They would surely realise now that something was wrong, that I was wrong.

  "No enemies", the same one repeated. I thought that I could detect some suspicion in that voice. It may know. "Come." More urgent now.

  "Come", the 3rd said, and then the group of 9 moved on, expecting that I would follow. To follow would be disastrous; to not follow could well be catastrophic. I had no choice, if I wanted to keep my identity, and the friends that they would then surely know are near me, safe. I would be forced to break my decision to stay with Ethan and protect him in order to protect him.

  I looked back at the ship where Ethan and Rosetta were hidden, but could not see them. A great urge to say something to them came over me, anything that I could leave behind. Yet I couldn't, lest the others hear; they were suspicious enough already, and looking back once had already been a foolhardy move.

  With that, I set off to follow them. Like Matthew, I was being taken away by my race, alone except for those of that very race that I did not want to be with. I tried to consider what my best option would be, but could come up with nothing.

  For now, I would simply wait for time.

  The Human

  This did not sound good. One of the Cyborgs (I had no idea which, they all sounded pretty similar, especially from a distance, and I couldn't see any of them from where Rosetta and I were hiding) said to Phill, "No enemies. We are searching the area. Come."

  "Yes", another added his two cents.

  Phill almost frantically told them, "That is not necessary. I should stay to ensure the safety of the craft. What if enemies do come?"

  One of them said, in the completely flat monotone that only they could perfect, "No enemies. Come."

  Yet another (or perhaps the same one as before - who knew?) added, "Come."

  And with that, we heard them all walking off. Just like that. See - not good at all.

  When it seemed that they were far enough away - well, far enough that we couldn't hear their faint footsteps anymore - I asked Rosetta quietly, "Now what? We're down to just the two of us."

  "It's obvious that we can't stay here, like Matthew said", she replied. "We don't know how many other groups of Cyborgs may come, or even if two groups may come at once. We can't expect to just hide from all of them every time, we'd be bound to get caught."

  "So we're leaving", I said. "But which direction? I have no idea where most of the Slugs would be, nor which direction Matt or Carmen and Frank ran off in."

  "Neither do I", she said. "But we can assume that the direction that all of those Cyborgs came from would have no Slugs there, so let's go a different way."

  Cautiously, we poked our heads out from behind the Cyborg ship to make sure that the group was well and truly gone. They were, but that also meant that Phill was well and truly gone. I don't know why, but things would be different without him. Hopefully he keeps himself out of trouble.

  "So they came from that way", I said pointing towards where they'd come from (obviously). It was partway horizontal across the valley. OK, that wasn't helpful. Pretend that the Slug end of the valley was south, and the Cyborg end was north (which we were right now pretty much at). The gang of Cyborgs had come from the north-east, but closer to the east, which is to say, closer to the horizontal of the valley. Get it? If not, never mind - just think that they came from an arbitrary there.

  "We can't head back towards the Slug side", Rosetta said, looking up. "We don't know what the air quality's like back there."

  Also looking up, I saw that the spreading out of the ash cloud seemed to have stabilised itself, as it looked pretty similar to before. It also looked way high up, as if the breathing air back towards the Slug side at ground level should be fine - but I wasn't willing to stake my life on it.

  "Let's just head north", I suggested.

  "North?" she asked. "How would you know that? You didn't bring one of your human compasses."

  "Heh", I chuckled. "Never mind. I meant, let's continue on down the valley towards the Cyborg side. It's further from the volcano, and I bet that most of the Slugs would've just run forward when they fled, not to the sides."

  "There could be more Cyborgs there", she warned.

  "Maybe awhile ago", I countered, "but everyone's spread out now, they're probably all over the place. And besides, we're more likely to find more landed Cyborg ships, and having someplace to hide is better than having noplace to hide."

  "I suppose so", she conceded. "OK, let's go then." And so we headed off.

  We spent most of the time in silence (no pressing questions came to me just now - maybe the prospect of imminent death made my curiosity a bit less important), just walking along straight down the valley. I wasn't having any trouble breathing, since the exercise of walking wasn't very difficult, I was quite fit at it from all my considerable experience back at Earth (of walking), and Slugma's low gravity took out most of the effort anyway.

  "I wonder how the others are doing", I mused aloud. "Boy was the first to go. Then Carmen and Frank, then Matt. And now Phill. Next thing I know, you'll be leaving me too."

  "Not likely", she smiled. "But just in case I do, try to take care of yourself. I seem to remember you once throwing yourself in front of Matthew in an attempt to protect him from Cyborgs."

  "I would've done a great job of it too", I sniffed, "if Pauline hadn't shoved me out of the way."

  "You would've gotten yourself killed!" the Slug laughed, but it wasn't too loud. We were still being careful here. You know, enemy territory and all.

  I laughed with her for a bit. "But still", I went on. "For all we know, every one of them is dead, and it's just us left. Then what will we do?"

  She didn't answer for a bit, and when she did, she said in an unmistakable voice of sadness, "I don't know what we'd do. Which is why we just have to hope that they'll all be alright. Our little group are the closest friends I've ever had in my life of service to the empire; I'd never before bonded to another Slug like Matthew and Boy have."

  "Well, you're a lot younger than them", I reasoned. "Perhaps, had things gone differently, you would've found another friend. Or friends." I paused, thinking about whether or not to add this next bit, then went for it anyway. "Besides, you guys are the closest friends I've ever had as well. Matt was my best friend back at our school on Earth, as you all know, but he was also my only real friend. I had other friends and acquaintances of course, but they never came close to a good friend."

  "I should say that every one of us has never had friends like this before", she finished up the sentimentality. "Which is why we will always stick together, until sticking together is no longer an option." Wow - I wasn't sure if she meant 'no longer an option' because someone got orders to do something else again, or because we're all dead. I'd prefer the first option, myself.

  We were silent again for a time, just walking amiably together. I couldn't think of anythi
ng else to say (and I guess that Rosetta couldn't either), so I just looked at the surrounding landscape as we strolled along (as well as making sure that I didn't step on a big enough rock to break my ankle). Yep, a mountain-fringed valley and a high-up cloud of ash and dust. Nothing new to report there. I did turn around to check out the volcano though, and it looked as if it was finished spewing. Although, for all I knew, the land to the other side of it could right now be swamped with lava. Lucky that didn't happen on this side.

  And so we went on walking. Nothing of note happened for a bit, which was both good and bad I guess, so all I had was time to try and imagine what could be happening to the others. Even Slob - I wonder what that guy's up to? I sure had no idea now, but I guessed that I'd find out soon enough; probably too soon for my liking, in fact.

  The Slug

  I needed to find one more fight, just one more, and then I'd be done. After our first one, we'd since broken up another, smaller battle, which meant that I only needed one more under my belt before I could return to the others. Hopefully Frank and Carmen were having just as much luck; I hadn't had to kill a single Cyborg yet, and I didn't plan to either.

  It was almost amazing how easy it was to stop the fighting; all I had to do was show up, the huge group of Slugs I was travelling with having already intimidated the enemy into starting to back off. Most of us were newly-formed Slugs too, which meant that they had no qualms about not being killed in battle. Qualm - such a strange word.

  I then just had to shout out in English, and one of the Cyborgs was bound to respond to me; it seemed that Rabadootime and Slob had done a fine job of spreading the Human language throughout their people. Pretty soon it would be spoken and understood by everyone.

  Once someone responded to me, we could easily discuss the terms of the peace, and it all got sorted out quickly. It seemed as if the only reason that the fights started in the first place is because the two sides hadn't even bothered to try and communicate. I could probably thank the Honour-bound for that, who had no reason to try and prevent a battle, no reason at all.

  In terms of our group, which now numbered a large amount of Slugs, over twenty at a guess, most of us were newborns. And it was easy to tell. All of the older Slugs, those still stuck in the old ways, kept together, away from the others and in constant contact. Just as the collective-centric Slugs have always behaved. The new Slugs, however, they were quite different, quite different indeed. They didn't keep together, and they weren't in constant contact. It seemed that not impressing them with their Honour made them much more individualistic, with a greater sense of self and separation of identity. Interesting.

  Just as I finished thinking about this, I found my final fight. Although the term "fight" wasn't exactly accurate in this case, since it just appeared to be one Cyborg surrounded by a small group of Slugs. It didn't take me very long to conclude that every one of them was a newborn, and that they were almost playing with their enemy. Well, not "playing", perhaps, but they certainly weren't vying to kill it anytime soon; had they been Honour-bound Slugs, the Cyborg would be quickly dispatched and the group would move on as soon as they could to find another group of Cyborgs that could provide a bigger challenge and hence be more likely to kill those Slugs.

  The ground around the little fight was littered with bodies from both sides, meaning that this was the end of a larger battle. That made sense, as it was pretty unlikely to find a Cyborg wandering around on their own, especially at a time like this.

  As we approached them at a fast rate, Slugma's gravity restricting the fast and low sprint that I usually used in times like this, I saw some things which started to change other things. Which in turn changed yet other things. And that was a change.

  The lone Cyborg was tall. That was one thing. It was also holding its hands up, robot palms out, in an unmistakable Human gesture of surrender. That was two things. And that was all I needed to realise that it had changed things which then changed things.

  The Cyborg being taller than usual meant it was a leader, and it using a Human gesture meant that it had been exposed to Humans; that meant that is was more than likely either Slob or Rabadootime. Whichever it was, I had to save it of course, but I would much prefer Slob, who I trusted more than the other. Slob was yet to try and kill me, and he was yet to try and kill Ethan. Unlike the other.

  As I got close enough, I saw that it was in fact Rabadootime. Well, I'd worry about that later. He was watching my approach, and if he felt dismay, recognition, or gratitude at seeing me coming in, he showed none of it on his face. Typical Cyborg - they either couldn't or wouldn't display emotions or speak properly just yet, and I had a bad feeling that they'd always be like that. Unless Phill gave them lessons or something. Then my bad feeling would go away.

  One of the Slugs hit him in the back, but it wasn't meant to be a fatal or damaging hit, and so it wasn't. The Cyborg just ignored it, his hands still raised and stilled, his eyes cameras still watching me. I could tell who he thought was the important one here.

  It had been a while since I'd seen him though! And boy, did he look fine. Well, actually, he looked just about exactly exactly the same as last time - in fact, the only reason that I could recognise him at all was because of his height and the small adjustments that seemed to have been made to his face. He didn't look as Human as Slob did though, who'd done some extensive plastic-metal surgery to improve his attractiveness as a part of some prototype testing process they have going on. Rabadootime didn't seem to be overly injured though, apart from his current injuries of course, which meant that he must've gotten repaired since he was damaged way back at our defence of Earth. Which was not surprising, considering how long ago it was.

  'Oi!' I shouted out to him. 'Rabadootime! Happy to see me?' I gave him a big grin, and was waiting for a returned one when he was struck again by one of his attackers. Which reminded me; he was kind of in danger of death here. 'Hey, stop that, stop that!' I called to them, finally reaching them.

  I grabbed the Slug that was closest to me and sent it orders to leave the Cyborg alone. Not waiting for a cognitive reply, I grabbed another and sent the same thing. Pretty soon, they all got the picture. Because I had sent them all the picture. Which is why they got it.

  'Now', I turned to the Cyborg leader. 'Looks like you were in quite a bind just then.'

  'My group was defeated by a much larger one', he tried to explain his inadequacies away. 'My ceased resistance went unheeded.'

  'Indeed it did', I replied cheerfully, but I was, in truth, less than cheerful. Like, perhaps four whole points less than cheerful, which everyone knows is a considerable amount. I hadn't seen Rabadootime in a long time, it was true, and so I had no idea what his viewpoint on the peace effort is. The only non-Phill Cyborg that I slightly trusted was Slob, as I knew for sure that he saw the value of the war ending; I knew nothing about this guy and his motivations for coming to Slugma.

  In any case, I'd broken up my three fights, as I'd told myself I would. Actually, as I'd thought to myself; I never actually said it out loud.

  'You guys go on', I said to my ever-expanding group. 'Keep finding more fights, and stop as many Slugs and Cyborgs from dying as you can. This Cyborg and I are going to leave you now, but don't forget the reason that we came to this planet - to foster a peace. To stop the killing.' When no one moved, I said, 'Go on now.' And they did. Because I told them to.

  The oldest Slug was now that four-cycle old Honour-bound one, whom I had absolutely no trust in. But the new Slugs greatly outnumbered the older ones, so I had to hope that they'd do what they were meant to do and ignore the commands of their superior should it go against that purpose. The purpose that they were born to do. For my part, I cared much more about reuniting my group than continuing on with this job; I cared nothing for the overall races, but only for specific individuals in those races. As for the Cyborg, I couldn't leave him with the Slugs, and I sure wasn't gonna let him roam around on his own.

  'Let's go', I prodded Raba
dootime, directing him back towards the Slug end of the valley where Ethan, Rosetta and Phill should still be waiting for me, if they were doing their job properly. 'You walk in front of me.' Not taking any chances here.

  And so we walked. At a fast rate, too, which was a good thing. The sooner we got back the better. 'What do you plan to do', Rabadootime asked me.

  'That depends on your behaviour', I told him. 'I've no intention of killing anyone on this planet, but if they try to pull anything or leave me no choice, I most certainly will.' Hopefully that scared him a bit.

  'I didn't specify the query', he said. 'What do you plan to do about the situation.' Oh. I guess it didn't scare him at all. Probably cause Cyborgs can't get scared or something; actually, I didn't know if they could or not, but I could still guess that I hadn't scared him right now. Not a bit.

  'Wait until the cloud has moved on enough', I told him, looking up and judging that it hadn't just yet. 'When it has, we'll be able to communicate with our ships, and arrange transportation out of here. This entire mission has been a disaster, and all from one incident of bad timing and bad luck.'

  'It could be common on this planet', he said, reminding me of Phill, who'd probably say the exact same thing. Although in a more refined, gentlemanly way, of course.

  'Could be', I agreed as I continued to watch him warily. Not taking any chances at all. 'Could just be.'

  The Human

  Walking, walking, walking. It felt like I should be getting tired, at least sore legs or something, but no, nothing. It seemed as if the low gravity made up for the month or two of inactivity I endured on the spaceflight over here. Either that, or I was just really, really fit. Which was totally more likely.

  "We haven't seen anyone yet", I complained to Rosetta, my only companion. "No Slugs or Cyborgs. I'm beginning to think that everyone just ditched us."

  "Perhaps we should count ourselves lucky", she said. "What would happen if we ran into some Cyborgs?"

  "Meh", I shrugged, "I'm sure they'd be cool. And besides, what happened to luck not having any impact on our lives?"

  She smiled beside me. "I was young then, and inexperienced. Let's just say that I now know a bit more about things."

  "Hah", I laughed. "That's your way of saying 'I was wrong and you were right'. So, yes, thank you, I was right."

  She didn't reply, but she didn't stop smiling either, so I hadn't annoyed her too much.

  After a bit more walking (I actually have no idea how long it went for, there wasn't much in the way of visual indications apart from far-off mountains here), nothing happened. So we walked a bit more. And still, nothing happened. It was starting to get old, this nothing happening business.

  After it had well and truly gotten old, and as I was thinking about how bored I was, something happened. Even if we were about to die or something, at least it was something. Although I'm sure, once I'm dead, that I'd prefer nothing to that.

  "I see someone", I said, as I was looking to the right of us (that's east, if you're still following my arbitrary directions from before), and Rosetta was at that moment looking behind us. "A group, actually, a whole group of them! You think it could be Phill coming back? Or Matt? Or maybe Boy and the others?"

  "I thought they could be all dead?" she asked me.

  "Exactly", I answered. "Could be. Hopefully not though."

  As the group got closer, I gave a total guess and put their number at ten. Like I said though, it was a total guess - don't place too much stock by it. They had also gotten close enough that I could see that they were standing upright on two legs. As Slugs didn't stand like that (apart from that combat form I'd once seen and then never witnessed again - still gotta ask about that one), that meant that they were Cyborgs.

  "Man, I hope that's Phill in there, and he's converted all of them to peace-loving people", I said.

  Rosetta gave a low laugh. "I doubt it. It's obvious that they've seen us though, and there's no place to hide. We can't run without them easily catching us, as we'd get tired too easily" - what she meant was, I'd get tired too easily - "so we might as well go and meet them. Hopefully we can get some information from them."

  As we moved closer and closer to them, and they closer and closer to us, I began to hear something. Something that I'd definitely heard before.

  It was a rapid stream of clicks that reached my ears, blasting out in quick succession in an indecipherable way. "I think I know who that is..." I said.

  "The only Cyborgs we know who can use that speech is Slob and the others on PDN", Rosetta put what we both knew into words.

  "Hey, Slob!" I called out, as we were still far enough from them to be able to have a private conversation. "That you?"

  He waited until we got nearer each other (didn't want to humiliate himself by yelling or something), and said back, "Yes."

  "Sweet", I said happily. Here was the one Cyborg on Slugma that we knew wouldn't try to kill us. Well, I think he won't - right? "How's it going?" I finished.

  Another jet of clicks issued from most of the Cyborgs (I'd updated my estimate of their count to twelve, so I got pretty close the first time), which I understood to be them consulting with each other on what to respond with. I wasn't exactly sure how that worked - was it majority rules or something? - but it didn't really feel like a relevant thing to bring up just now.

  "Poorly", Slob put forward the group consensus. "Without a means to communicate as we do, many of the Cyborgs are making decisions utilising only the information they personally have access to. We are searching for any Cyborgs or Slugs who still wish to continue the original purpose of our coming here."

  "We do", Rosetta quickly told him. "Unfortunately, most of our group has been splintered by forces beyond our control, and we are doing our best to regroup with them."

  More clicks, this time lasting much longer than before. "Would you like assistance", Slob eventually said/asked.

  "Sure thing", I said, happy for some reason that a bunch of strange, robotic death-machines from a different planet liked us. "Are these the only Cyborgs who came from PDN? Where are all the rest?"

  "Not every Cyborg could come, otherwise there would be none to run the planet's functions", he replied, not needing to consult the others first. Well, I guess that made sense.

  "Have you been attacked by any Slugs?" Rosetta asked them.

  Once again, Slob replied of his own accord. "By two groups. The first contained members we could communicate with, and hostilities were ceased. The second had no interest in communication, and we were forced to defeat them." He didn't need to say any more for us to know that those would have been Honour-bound Slugs, who didn't want to talk with their enemy about anything.

  We had started to walk with the Cyborgs now, Rosetta and I next to Slob, in the direction we were originally going in. I knew that he was the figurehead for what all of these Cyborgs thought, and that meant they were all friendly, but I still felt more comfortable around him. Must be a human thing or something, probably because none of the others spoke themselves. And no, clicking doesn't count.

  "How were you separated", Slob asked us.

  "In different ways", Rosetta told him. "Matthew, Frank and Carmen were ordered away by a superior Slug, Boy got lost in a large crowd of Slugs, and Phill distracted a Cyborg group away from where we were hiding by joining them." I wondered if Slob even knew who Frank and Carmen were. He might know the Slugs themselves, but by name? I didn't think so.

  "Have you encountered Rabadootime", he asked.

  "Rabadootime's here?" I now asked, astounded. "Wow. That's news to me. And to answer your question, no, we haven't seen him. But... Wow." I imagined Rabadootime and Slob as a part of our group - and almost shuddered. Phill was enough for me, I think.

  "It would be easier to find others if we split up", Rosetta suggested. "This valley is too big for just one group to search around in."

  Slob thought about this (and by 'thought', I mean he had a full-blown conversation with his comrades comprised
entirely of the clicking noise), and then said, "Such a tactic would increase our effectiveness but also our risk. We have judged it to be a worthwhile endeavour, as with you here our chance of getting into a combat scenario has lessened." Ummm... I think that means 'yes'.

  After some more clicks, the group of Cyborgs split into three; one sub-group went one direction, another went another direction, and the remaining two of them (plus Slob) stayed with us. "We are searching this area", he told us, and took the lead.

  Rosetta looked at me, probably wondering as I was what had just happened, but I shrugged at her and followed the Cyborg leader. With a title like 'leader', I imagine that he knows what he's doing far more than I ever would.

  The Cyborg

  We were in trouble; the 9 Cyborgs which had taken me away from Ethan and Rosetta were headed towards a nearby group of Slugs, which were also headed towards us. This could well end in a fight, one that I had no wish to participate in.

  "We must attempt to prevent any hostilities", I said to the Cyborgs, hoping that they understood the value of such a course of action.

  "They are Slugs", one answered, and said no further. That single statement boded ill for my cause here.

  As we got nearer, I estimated the Slug count at 15, much higher than our group. As I had no intention to take part in any fighting, that meant there was an excess of 6 Slugs over the Cyborgs; whether or not that number was sufficient for them to defeat us depended on the ages, and hence the combat aptitude and experience, of the Slugs. While Cyborgs also got more proficient at combat as they aged and fought more battles, it was not so drastic an improvement as to significantly affect the outcome of victor probability calculations.

  Once we were within what I judged to be a sufficient physical range for verbal speech, I asked the Slugs, "Do any of you speak the Human language system?"

  One of them answered after a short time, "Yes", and said no more. The chances of this event avoiding a fight decreased once again. That was not good.

  "There is no need for a fight to ensue", I tried to persuade them. "We came to Slugma to facilitate a peace, not to host another staging ground for our pointless - "

  As I spoke, 4 of the Slugs, who'd been in contact, attacked. They launched themselves at the nearest Cyborg, who was just able to react fast enough to prevent its otherwise likely sudden death. The remaining 11 Slugs attacked soon after, following the example of their peers. The Cyborgs responded similarly.

  I had to contemplate what to do in this scenario. I needed to come up with a solution before anything irreversible could happen.

  I considered;

  It was obvious to me that these Slugs were those still bound by their Honour, as they had attacked without hesitation and did not even attempt to defuse the situation. The fact that they could speak to us, and yet chose not to, further illustrated this.

  Given that they desired their Honour, the only way for us to survive this would be to kill them all; otherwise, they would continue attacking until either of our groups were dead, and, should they prove the victor, they would then search for another challenge.

  Yet, I had no wish to fight the Slugs. Nor did I wish for my fellow Cyborgs to die. Even though both groups' ideologies did not match my own or my friends', I would prefer for them to live. So how could I do this?

  I could join in the fighting, and assist the Cyborgs in killing the Slugs. However, as I had previously concluded that I wanted no part in anyone's death, nor did I want any personal danger to be directed at myself without good reason, I abandoned this alternative.

  I could perhaps shout out, and continue to shout until they ceased. Would this work? I put the probabilities against it, as both sides had shown no interest in communicating with the other. Although such verbal intercourse may have proven effective in the past, the Slugs' preemptive attack negated any reliable chance of this succeeding in the present situation.

  Another option was to wedge myself in between the two sides, hoping to physically separate them and hence force them to reconsider why they were performing their actions. I had seen Matthew perform a similar strategy to great effect; but I was not Matthew. While the Cyborgs would surely stop, the Slugs had only stopped in Matthew's battle because of his seniority. The Slugs here recognised no authority greater than theirs, especially not that of a Cyborg; they would likely simply kill me if I attempted such a thing, and then continue on.

  A final possibility consisted of me simply running away, and leaving this battle to its own devices. After a preliminary thought, I decided that this would be best. Considering further, I decided that, based on that beginning of that fight that I had so far witnessed, these Slugs were not so young as to be ineffective. I judged that the probabilities indicated that they would eventually win this fight. Therefore, if I wanted to live, I couldn't partake in the fighting; I had to run, forsake my race in order to save myself, and leave the battle to its own natural outcome.

  It was not an unattractive plan, as I cared far more for myself than these Cyborgs, and I concluded that it was the option that I would choose.

  As the fighting had not yet escalated into an inclusive altercation, I was for the time being not embroiled in it. I turned around in order to act out my decision and leave, when I saw another group of Slugs rapidly approaching us from behind me. There was more of them coming.

  Could this be the end for me? While I acknowledged the relatively high probability of this, I could not let my decisions be guided by such pessimistic thoughts, lest they be the vehicle which leads to that very end which I wished to avoid.

  I could no longer back out of the fight in that direction. I could, however, perhaps skirt around the fringes of the battle, which was starting the process of splintering into smaller internal fights, and hope to not be drawn into any of them. Given what I had just witnessed, this seemed to be the best current course of action for me.

  Before I could enact turning around, however, the second group of Slugs came within visual range. I could now almost make them out individually. In addition, I could see that one of them stood upright, and wore clothes.

  It was one of my friends! My troubles were over! All they had to do was come into this fight, and they could easily break up the two sides; it would be simple for another Slug to do it, as a Cyborg was more likely to listen to a Slug than an Honour-bound Slug to a Cyborg. This likely outcome represented a satisfactory conclusion to the dilemma I had been enduring.

  As that Slug recognised me, whom I identified as Boy, but before he could rush over to greet me, I felt someone from behind me grab my exterior, and pull me into that fray from which I thought I was freed. That action succeeded in entrapping me in the battle, something that I had tried to hard to avoid.

  My mission was now simple; I had to survive this brief encounter long enough for Boy to come and end the violence of which I was now a part.

  The Human

  The five of us had been walking for a short time in silence. And yes, it was beginning to get a bit stale around here. Rosetta, those two random Cyborgs who would probably never develop a personality in my presence, and myself were following Slob as he led us searching across a section of the valley, looking for the rest of our group. I still wasn't quite sure as to why he'd want to help us, but, hey - I wasn't complaining.

  "How big is this place?" I asked Rosetta after finishing off my second bottle of water. Only one left. "It feels like we've been walking around forever."

  "You cannot have been doing so forever", Slob helpfully corrected me. Well, I'm glad he told me that, cause I totally thought that it had been literally forever.

  "Duh", I told him. "I mean it's been ages. When are we going to meet somebody?"

  Rosetta said, "If and when we do meet someone, it could be a hostile party."

  "Pfft", I said. "We've got all three of the races here in our group; I'm sure we can easily prevent any kind of fight from happening."

  "I sure hope so", the Slug told me. And I did too.

&nb
sp; After another amount of time (I would guess about five minutes), I had finally had enough. I moved up next to Slob, Rosetta following me, and asked him "Hey, Slob?"

  "Yes", he replied.

  "Why is it that you look so human? I mean, you've got a semblance of a nose and ears, your steely outside is almost a slightly believable skin colour, and your camera things almost just quite look like eyes. So what's up with that?"

  "I have already explained this", he said, and I could swear that he meant it in an exasperated way. Not that you'd be able to tell just by listening to his voice.

  "You have?" I asked, having no memory of such a thing. And if I didn't remember it, that means that it didn't happen at all. Obviously.

  "Yes", he said. "I shall do so again." After a moment, I figured that that was a question, and nodded. "I was testing a prototype to emulate the general human appearance for Cyborgs, in the event of further dealings with your species."

  "Oh yeah", I said slowly, "I think I remember something about that. So, if that prototype is done, what are you testing now?"

  "Equipment using thin, powerful magnets", he answered, and didn't seem to want to elaborate.

  "Oh no you don't", I told him, "you're not getting away with just that. We're like interracial brothers now, there's no secrets like that anymore." When he didn't reply, I complained, "Come on! If I had a cool super secret, I'd totally tell you!" He still said nothing, so I pulled out the big guns. "Alright then, you asked for it. I'm about to tell you my superpower, so you'd better be grateful. Most people find this hard to believe, but it's true, I swear it. I can... I can do a cartwheel."

  Rosetta practically burst out laughing, and if Phill was here, I'm pretty sure that he'd crack a smile (which was all that you ever got from him, so you learn to appreciate it), but Slob was as cold as a robot. Perhaps unsurprisingly.

  But maybe I'd gotten through to him after all, because he launched into a click conversation with his two friends (both of whom were walking behind us). When he was done, he told us, "I will give you the basics of this equipment as a gesture of my cooperation. In return, you must agree to inform us of what a 'cartwheel' is."

  "Deal", I quickly said, before Rosetta's laughter could give away what a bad deal the Cyborg had made. The best part was, I couldn't even do a proper cartwheel (you know, where you flip over sideways, place your hands on the ground, and spin over?) - I could only land on my knees.

  "The prototype I'm currently testing", Slob began his explanation, "is a series of thin, powerful magnets inserted at regular intervals into specially constructed slots in metal. When these magnets are activated, they strongly repel the surrounding metal outwards. The cumulative effect is a general expansion of the metal."

  I thought about that for a bit. And still didn't get it. "Can you give us a demonstration?" Rosetta asked him.

  In response, he held out his arm. It looked normal, for the time being at least, so I began, "What - " But before I could finish, it stopped looking normal. Also, it had happened silently, which was a bit disconcerting.

  The arm just kinda... got bigger. The upper part of his arm expanded outwards, not a whole lot, but enough for it to shock me. The underside of his arm had also grown bigger, but not as much. The super-intelligent part of my brain predicted that inside that arm was some kind of array of these powerful electromagnets, positioned at just the right place to repel the metal enough for this to occur. That part of my mind then promptly shut up.

  "So that's all happening because of magnetic repulsion?" I asked.

  "Yes", Slob replied. "The strength of the material is reduced, as its density is decreased, but the additional size theoretically compensates for this."

  "Running those electromagnets must use an awful amount of power", Rosetta commented.

  "Yes", Slob replied. He must've shut of the electricity flow or something, because his arm then snapped back to its usual size. Really, it hadn't expanded by a massive amount, but it'd sure freak me out if I was fighting him and he pulled that on me.

  "And the metal has some mechanism to spring back to its former shape and size", Rosetta added.

  "Yes", he said again, and didn't elaborate. For all I knew, he was probably using actual springs or something.

  We walked for a few minutes in silence then. It seemed as if Slob was allowing us to digest that information or something (quite civil of him, wouldn't you say?), and hadn't yet called in his end of the bargain. As for me, I was trying to understand how a bunch of magnets could just increase the size of a piece of metal like that. My super-intelligent brain didn't consider it a topic worthy of its time, however, so I was left with the only possible reason as 'must be a special kind of metal'. Well, it's not wrong.

  "What is a cartwheel", Slob eventually asked, hoping to cash in on our deal. He hadn't forgotten, it seems. Which I wasn't really expecting him to.

  Just as I was thinking about how to frame my description so that he didn't feel cheated (because, let's face it, he was), a rapid stream of clicks came from one of the Cyborgs behind us. Slob quickly turned right around, and Rosetta and I, following his example, did the same.

  "Hey", I said. "It's some Slugs." I squinted. "I don't see any of ours in there, though. Damn."

  Meanwhile, the group that I'd seen were moving steadily towards us. Slob and the Cyborgs were exchanging a heated dialogue between themselves. I think.

  "I hope they don't want to attack the Cyborgs", Rosetta said worriedly. She was looking at Slob, and probably thinking the same thing as me - he was the Cyborg that had the most experience with us organics, and was most likely to agree with our thoughts and plans (well, apart from Phill), so we couldn't just ditch him or anything. Plus, he had this weirdo friendly thing going on. I don't know, I was probably just imposing human traits onto him.

  "I'm sure they won't", I said, without exactly being sure of anything. "Besides, if they try anything, there's you and me here, who obviously aren't Cyborgs. Between the two of us, we should be able to easily stop them."

  "Maybe so", the Slug replied. Meanwhile, Slob was still engaged in a frantic conversation with his friends. Well, I don't really know if it was frantic, but it seemed as if their clicks were coming out faster than usual. Probably just my imagination again; I doubt that the efficiency-seeking machines would alter their language out of the standardised format at all.

  As the Slug group got closer, I guessed that there was about ten of them, perhaps a bit less. Ten Slugs versus the three Cyborgs - it was lucky that we were here to try and stop the versus from happening at all.

  "Slob, you reckon we can avoid a battle here?" I asked him. "Rosetta and I will do our best to help."

  "We do not know", he said after a brief consultation. "The rend between our races is vast, our animosities difficult to reconcile. However, we came here to make an attempt, and that is what we shall do."

  I nodded at that. Well-spoken things deserve a nod. I looked up at the sky one final time (and wasn't surprised to find no legit clouds, but was still somehow disappointed) and saw that the ash cloud had really slowed down on its spreading out. It didn't look like it was going to properly dissipate anytime soon, but it also didn't look so dangerous anymore. All of this based on my knowledge of volcanic dust clouds, which was, of course, quite considerably low.

  Looking back at the Slugs, they were much closer now. I stepped forward so I could greet them before they reached the Cyborgs, and Rosetta promptly followed. I'd already seen a Slug-Cyborg fight before, and was likely to see another before we were done here. But, as the wise Slob had just said, even if we knew we probably wouldn't be successful, that was no excuse not to try. Yeah, that was totally deserving of a nod.