Page 80 of Defiant

As I lay there, feeling miserable, Comfort reached out for me again. And oddly, I felt several others—a good five or six communication slugs doing the same. When I asked, Comfort said she’d talked to them about me, and asked for their help in finding my friend.

Their mental picture of me was amusing: a giant slug with long, squishy appendages. They saw me as one of them, just larger and oddly shaped. In context it was flattering, trust me. And only mildly nightmarish.

Any sign of Doomslug?I thought to them. And yes—one of the five had sensed a new slug arriving.

The Superiority didn’t understand the level of intelligence the taynix had. That was what happened when you treated living beings like mechanical parts—one was the same as another to them. So they’d just put Doomslug with the rest of their hyperslugs.

She couldn’t be contacted, though. It took me a few minutes of sorting through Comfort’s thoughts to figure out why. Apparently it was the boxes. Certain boxes could cut the slugs off from one another. But they were transferred often enough, fed and sometimes cleaned, so Comfort expected Doomslug would be contactable sometime in the next few days. She promised to send my friend feelings of support, as did the other five who were talking to me. All were on active communications duty.

This is how you survive,I thought to them.You do it together. Supporting each other.

They agreed softly, as they offered me that same support. I was awed by the scope of it. The idea of all these little creatures in cages, barely fed, beaten if they misbehaved…spending their days reaching out. Instead of looking inward, they’d created a network of support. Facilitated through the communications slugs.

It was a deeply powerful defiance that vibrated my soul.

I’ll help you,I sent to them.I’m going to find a way. Spread the word. Help is coming.

They believed me immediately, and began to flute with excitement. The question was, how did I make good on that promise?

Turned out, it was right there in front of me. I mean, notliterally,since I was lying face down in a pool of my own spit. But you know.Metaphorically.

Can you reach out,I thought to the slugs,to my friends?

Immediate fear. Disobedience was severely punished. They felt fine contacting me, since they viewed me as “one of them.” The Superiority didn’t seem to know they did this, and didn’t have the resources to monitor it. But if any of them sent a message that far, to another planet, they risked alerting the Superiority’s guards. Signals sent out from the station were monitored carefully by machinery.

I understand,I thought to them as they shrank back from me in fear. Only, Comfort prodded at my mind tentatively. She wanted to know what she needed to do.

I managed to roll over and stare at the ceiling.It might not be a good idea,I thought to her.It could be dangerous.

She sent an image of me flying in combat, as I had during the data-breach mission. She’d been watching from afar.

Well, yes,I projected to her.I do dangerous things. But I’m a soldier.

I’m a soldier,she repeated back to me, and I could almost hear the fluting.

I supposed she was. Not by choice—but none of my people were soldiers by choice. Except maybe me, granted. I could have grown upin the most pacifist society in the Superiority, and I’d probably still be talking about beheading dandelions or something.

Okay,I sent back to her.I have friends in the military. Did you see any of them, when we were flying that mission?

Comfort wasn’t certain. She had trouble distinguishing humans from one another unless they were cytonic, as her kind sensed the world with their powers. All taynix—regardless of variety—could use cytonics to produce an image of their surroundings in their heads. Yet they recognized one another not by visuals, but through cytonic identifiers.

So I sent her an image, and a cytonic impression, of Jorgen. I’d talked to him on that mission. Did she know him?

Yes,she sent back, timid. She recognizedthathuman. He was a giant slug too. I smiled at the image.

Can you reach out to him?I thought.Tell him where I am, and that I was taken against my will?That alone wouldn’t be enough to salvage this situation, but it would be a start. More, I wanted to see if I could get word out. From there, plans could be made. And perhaps we could find a way free of this mess.

Comfort sent me back a scared affirmative. Her captors didn’t always monitor communications perfectly, and she’d learned to piggyback on signals she sent. It was how she sometimes contacted slugs who were frightened and separated from the rest. She thought maybe, while on duty, she could do this type of spoofing—and send a double signal. One she was assigned to send, and a hidden one to Jorgen.

As I read her thoughts, I could feel the scars of a lifetime of abuse in her emotions, and it broke my heart anew. Scud, I’d thoughtmychildhood had been hard, but I’d had the freedom to explore the caverns and a potential way to fight back against the Krell.

I hadn’t realized how dark it could get for someone without those options.

I try,Comfort sent.

Now?I asked.

On duty,she sent.Sending thoughts now. Good time.

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