Tales From the Terran Republic

Chapter 296: Stankworld (4)

“The shuttle will be launching in about an hour,” GuruG said cheerfully as they left the fabrication facility. “Would like to look around a little more?”

“Certainly,” Alan replied, “Grace…”

Grace wasn’t paying attention. She was staring with rapt fascination at a biomechanical hydraulic press.

“Is that a heart?” she asked.

“In a way,” GuruG replied. “It circulates nutrients to the overall structure and pressurizes the logic organs.”

“Pressurizes?!? Are… are you using fluid power logic?”

“You humans are familiar with that?”

“We are?” Alan asked.

“Sort of,” Grace replied with a touch of awe, “But it’s ancient history, and I mean ancient. We covered the basics in engineering class, but…”

“You went to class?” Alan asked.

“Even I didn’t have the balls to skip Dragon school, dude,” Grace snorted, “You did NOT want a meeting with the truancy officer. Trust me.”

Alan smiled ruefully. It was much the same for him and his family. While having a “good” reputation, that was only relative to their peers.

“Anyhow,” Grace enthused, “they say that anything you can do with a computer, you can do with fluid power!... It would take up an entire planet and need a Dyson sphere, but…”

“And it would take a year for every microsecond,” GuruG laughed. “However, it is more than adequate for simple ladder logic, which is more than sufficient for many applications where your outsider microprocessors are pure overkill. I mean, why does a door need a computer?”

“Security, mostly,” Alan replied. “Let me guess, your locks know you by smell.”

“Of course!” GuruG replied. “It’s near perfect security… although a lock is only as strong as the door…”

A cloud of amusement floated past. It really wasn’t that bad once you got used to it.

“…but I think you humans know what I’m talking about.”

Alan’s lips curled in a slight smile, and Grace unabashedly grinned.

“I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about,” she said innocently. “How can you get past a locked door?”

“And without a single waft of falsehood!” GuruG laughed, “Ancestor crust! I like you spore licks!”

“Yeah, we can lie our asses off,” Grace said, “Now, back to the important stuff. About this fluid logic, how do you…”

Alan sighed fondly. Grace was always pretty. But when she was so unguardedly excited, she was beautiful.

***

A few minutes later, GuruG and Alan leaned against a goo tech grow vat as Grace and all of the shop Freekegg wielding tablets furiously typed and gestured back and forth.

“Yeah,” Alan smiled, “we’ve lost her. I guess that tour will have to wait for another time. It will take both of us to drag her out of the shop.”

“I would offer to allow you to remain until the next departure,” GuruG replied, “But your arrival has already been anticipated and planned for. The same await you with great eagerness.”

“I’m certain we will return,” Alan replied, “for the company, if nothing else.”

A fart of happiness was his reward.

***

“You certainly made an impression,” GuruG said to Grace as they walked through a maze of intestine-like corridors.”

“Same for your guys,” Grace replied. “Those spore licks know their shit!”

“A careful examination of one’s feces is always advisable,” GuruG said, “But no feces was generated during your visit. Even we don’t shit on the floor.”

“HA!” Grace exclaimed, “It’s a human idiom. It means that someone knows something real good.”

“Very well,” Alan corrected. “They know something very…”

“What’s the Freekegg fart for ‘Shut up, you fucking nerd?”

GuuurglePootRiiiiiiip….

“Yeah,” Grace horped, “That.”

She grinned.

“Holy shit! It actually shut him up!” she laughed. “Can I get a bottle of that?” she asked and then backed away from the wall of laughter that slammed into her poor nose.

“I know I said that we couldn’t infect you,” GuruG bubbled, “But I think we may have to check.”

“She was always this rancid,” Alan snerkheaved.

“And you love it,” Grace purred as she slithered all over him and tousled his hair.

“Is this the initiation of the sex act?” GuruG asked excitedly as he pulled out his phone.

“Mmmmmaybe…”

“No.”

“Aww… What the FUCK is that?!?” Grace exclaimed as what only be described as a rotting six-legged zombie dog padded around the corner.

It pooted happily.

“Oh, that’s just… hmm… Let’s call it Thing.”

“Is it one of you?” Alan asked.

“Yes, it is part of the same,” GuruG said, “but it’s different. It both has a smaller brain and less room overall. That means that it isn’t as intelligent as my type. It also has limited ability to interact with the environment due to the lack of hands.”

Thing approached and started both sniffing and wiggling its projections curiously.

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Alan winced. It not only looked like it was rotting, but it also smelled that way. It was walking week-old roadkill.

It started smelling even worse as GuruG responded in kind.

Despite partially getting used to it, Alan’s eyes started to water.

“Thing wanted to know what you were,” GuruG said.

“Cool,” Grace replied, “Now tell us what that is!”

“Thing is part of the same,” GuruG said, but the ancestor’s gift isn’t limited to just my kind. Many other life forms on our world can receive it, both by accident and design. All have something to offer, and all are welcomed into the same.”

“Huh.”

“Many of Thing here arise, both by accident and by intent. They are very useful…”

GuruG knelt as Thing nuzzled and licked him, smearing him with ooze.

“…and we just like them. They are beloved friends and companions and treasured as such. They have been part of the same since the beginning. Many of us consider them as part of our group of closest friends and associates. I believe your word for such groups is ‘family’.”

“Of course, you have zombie dogs,” Grace grinned.

“Do you have something similar?”

“We did,” Grace replied, “We still have a few of them, but they are very expensive, hard to get, and often overbred.”

“New genes were being smuggled in from the Republic, though.” Alan said, “Or they were until the blockade, anyway.”

“Did have them?” GuruG asked, “Blockade?”

“This will take a while, longer than we have before it is time to board…”

“But it’s really cool!”

“Most would disagree with you, Grace.”

“Okay… Badass?”

“Better.”

***

The corridor came to a dead end sealed with another leathery wall.

GuruG paused and poked at it. Satisfied, he stroked it, and the wall opened into a giant, busy, and crowded chamber.

“I poked at the wall to ensure that this chamber was pressurized,” GuruG said as they entered. “It’s always good to check.”

“You don’t have indicators?” Alan asked.

“Why? You just poke the wall.”

“Makes sense… I guess.”

Alan and Grace looked around in amazement at what was clearly a starport dock, but unlike anything they had ever seen. Bright phosphorescent oblong spheroids floated along the ceiling, illuminating the entire space, and smaller “task lights” flitted about here and there.

“Infected” creatures the size of a goat to creatures the size of elephants, all of which were slowly rotting, were moving about loading, unloading, and shuffling cargo to and from several…

“Did that shuttle just move?” Grace asked as a chitinous shuttle shifted slightly and looked at them curiously, with what Grace initially thought were cockpit windows answering her question.

“Yes,” GuruG replied. “And that one will be the one we take to the surface.”

Its “rear hatch” stretched open invitingly.

“It looks like its body is ready,” GuruG said with a complete lack of irony. “You might want to put on your respirators now… I assume you now realize why I insisted you have them. Even we think these things are a bit much.”

The couple put on their respirators.

“Honestly,” Alan said as he crouched to enter the ship’s asshole, “I’m not even surprised anymore.”

***

After the trio crawled inside and secured themselves by sticking themselves to the walls, the shuttle’s “asshole” closed, and a pale blue glow emanated from little, star-like photophores covering the inside walls dimly illuminated the cavity.

“Did we just crawl up this thing’s ass?” Grace asked.

“In a way,” GuruG replied, “This chamber is part of the shuttle bug’s digestive system.”

“Of course, it is.”

“That’s why you want respirators in here,” GuruG laughed. “Even the more tender of the same use them in one of these.”

“Does the actual waste pass through here?” Alan asked.

“Where else would it go?” GuruG asked, a bit mystified, “This is the terminus of its digestive tract… We clean it out,” GuruG added as he beheld Alan and Grace’s expressions.

“So, just to be clear,” Grace said, “I am glued to the inside of a bug’s ass?”

“Exactly!” GuruG said.

“Why wouldn’t I be?... It’s another expression,” she said as GuruG’s protuberances twitched in what she was starting to recognize as confusion, “It means… um… It’s an acceptance of an unusual situation, I guess.”

“I never thought about it,” GuruG said as the shuttle started slightly rolling back and forth, “We’re getting onto the departure conveyor.”

“Are these shuttle bugs part of the same?” Alan asked.

“No,” GuruG replied. “And we’re not entirely sure where they came from. We’ve always had the guys. They really come in handy, though. We use them for everything out here, little ones for deliveries and small transfers, as well as a lot of the outside work. When they get bigger, we use them for cargo and transportation.”

He patted the wall.

“This one is still a little guy. They get much bigger.”

“And can handle reentry?”

“I hope so,” GuruG laughed. “If not, it’s going to be really embarrassing.”

He chuckled as Alan smirked at his own stupid question.

“They actually need periodic reentry, or a good plasma wash, as they grow,” GuruG said as there was a shuddering lurch followed by a feeling of intense acceleration, then weightlessness.

“Launch cannon,” GuruG said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Saves on fuel as well as keeps the area around the station clear… Oh!”

GuruG’s projections wiggled apologetically.

“A bit late, but how do you guys handle acceleration? Still alive?”

“Oh, that was fine,” Grace said dismissively, “We can handle a lot more than that.”

“Return to orbit involves a ‘lot more’,” GuruG replied. “We do have a few other craft if it’s a problem.”

“Fuel?” Grace said, eyes sparkling. “Do you actually use rockets?”

“Yeah?”

“Cooooool!” Grace exclaimed.

“You still use chemically powered reaction thrusters?” Alan asked.

The cabin shuddered slightly as a quiet roaring sound could be heard.

“Why wouldn’t we?” GuruG shrugged. “It’s perfectly acceptable for a lot of applications. They are cheap to grow… or grow naturally in something like this shuttle bug. They are also much lighter than a reactionless thruster and require nothing special as far as materials go.”

“Lighter?” Grace asked. “What about the fuel?”

“As opposed to a reactionless thruster with the same specific impulse, the reactor necessary to power it, its fuel storage, the energy bank, and the infrastructure needed to handle all of that?” GuruG replied, “A tank of methane and some liquid oxygen can weigh less, for short trips and is a lot cheaper. If you need constant thrust over long time spans, then it falls short.”

GuruG paused and sniffed the air for a few moments. He wiggled his projections happily.

“Just chatting with the bug,” he said, “It’s doing great and has been cleared for terminal burn,” GuruG said. “Now we just kick back for a few hours for the starport to swing back by, and we’re stinking… That’s one of our idioms, as best as I can translate it. It means we are doing well.”

He pooted a complex little toot.

“It asked how we were doing,” GuruG replied. “This bug is a great one. It’s very kind and takes pride in its work, definitely a keeper.”

The little chamber made a bubbling sound that heralded the release of something so foul that GuruG’s protuberances withdrew a bit.

“Be glad you have respirators,” he laughed, “The bug was just expressing its pleasure at my compliment and asked about his future. I told it that we already requested its return after its molt is completed. My money says that it is going to make it all the way.”

The walls bubbled for a full ten seconds.

GuruG’s eyes started to water a bit as Alan and Grace could feel something on their skin.

There was suddenly a sound that no spacer wants to hear, a leak.

“Relax!” GuruG exclaimed as he saw Alan and Grace’s reactions. “It’s cool. Shuttle Bug is just turning over the air in here before he kills me,” he added with a laugh. “It will keep the atmosphere at proper levels. Don’t worry.”

“I’m working on it,” Grace said as she eyed a small hole that had opened nearby, triggering a laugh from GuruG and a little burping sound from the walls.

“Shuttle Bug says that, if necessary, you can void yourself. It doesn’t mind.”

“Well, tell it that it can go and fuck itself.”

“It says that it is looking forward to just that,” GuruG said between his trademark chortles. “It will likely be bred this molt.”

More wall bubbles… and the vent pore opened a little more.

“Needless to say,” GuruG snickered, “It’s quite excited at the prospect.”

“So, GuruG,” Alan said, his voice slightly muffled by the respirator, “You said that this shuttle bug is ‘going all the way’. What does that mean?”

“These bugs keep getting bigger and bigger until they can no longer live on the surface. They would collapse under their own weight. At that point, if one of them is deemed good enough, it will be carried into orbit with a lot of food and water. It will then engorge itself and pupate. It will become much larger and more durable as it metamorphizes to its final stage, a being capable of interplanetary travel. It will then spend the rest of its life in space. It will still grow very slowly throughout its life, but as far as we know, there isn’t a maximum size, They live a very long time and can get very big.”

“Do they still use chemical rockets?”

“Yep,” GuruG said, “They have much larger storage organs and can do much more forceful and longer burns, but they still burn fuel. The interplanetary adults eat ice and break it down to hydrogen and oxygen, and younger ones like this guy use methane and liquid oxygen.”

“How do the adults liquify and electrolytically separate the ice?” Alan asked, intrigued.

“Solar energy, mostly. They can also consume debris. You know, all that shit that builds up in a system over time? The adult shuttle bugs will collect and eat it. Keeps them fed and the system clean. In fact, at the moment, the fleet is so large that we are intentionally generating more garbage than we have to.”

“Those sound efficient, but not very energy intense,” Grace said, “How long does it take to produce enough fuel?”

“Quite a while,” GuruG replied, “but they have time. A bug can spend months, even years, on one leg of a trip, plenty of time to make the fuel they need… though they do most of the fuel production when closer to the sun, or just take on extra hydrogen and oxygen at one of their stops if they need topping off. Every station has plenty of both.”

“Wait,” Grace said, “Years?”

“Maybe longer,” GuruG shrugged, “A long haul from the station nearest the sun to the one furthest out can take decades, not that we do that run often. Most are on a specific trade route where they go to a series of stations, moving things from one to the next.”

GuruG looked at them for a moment.

“Oh, right. Others don’t do that. Most freight doesn’t have to get anywhere especially quickly, as long as it does so predictably and regularly. We have millions of interplanetary bugs, maybe even billions. Each one may take years to get to a location, but that location has deliveries at whatever volume and frequency it requires.”

He chuckled.

“We operate on Freekegg time, not that frantic flailing around others do. Not a whole lot changes around here. Some routes haven’t been adjusted in thousands of years.”

“Bitter experience has taught us that inflexibility invites ruin,” Alan said grimly. “What happens if there is a sudden need somewhere?”

“We don’t let that happen?” GuruG laughed. “But should it occur, we do have a fleet of much more… advanced… craft that is well equipped to deal with any ‘sudden needs’. Those can be used to carry an emergency delivery or otherwise render aid as well.”

“You are speaking of military vessels?”

“Am I?” GuruG said innocently, “What are those?”

“Okay,” Grace chuckled, “Don’t tell us, you spore-lick.”

“Let’s just say that this system isn’t a particularly easy target.”

“That’s why this system has avoid hovering over it on most charts.”

“Now that’s just hurtful,” GuruG chortled. “Liquify one asshole…”

“Tell me about it,” Grace laughed.

“Oh, before I forget again,” GuruG said, “You said you would tell me of what befell your home?”

Grace’s face lit up.

“Okay!” she exclaimed, “What happened was…”