Arz stood above a swirling pink ball, something that looked like a cup of coffee that one had just poured cream into. He looked around, letting the air out from his lungs in one long exhale. He stood on a brownish gray rock, and everything around him felt empty, as if there was truly nothing there.
When Arz tried to inhale, there was no air.
Panic gripped him, heightening the need for air. Arz swept his gaze around, seeing nothing other than the swirling place far away, and some stars beyond. He looked to his right, seeing only a black sea like the night sky with stars.
A thought occurred to Arz. Mostly a thought of death.
A green bubble appeared around him and suddenly it felt as though the weight of the whole sky dropped on top of him, forcing him to take a deep breath in. He was outside for only seconds, and it had nearly cost him his life.
The bubble lifted him off the rock and drifted to Arz’s left. He leaned back, relieved that he wasn’t going to die, until he noticed the giant metal object he was drifting toward.
“Oh, I am going to die,” he said.
There wasn’t worry or disappointment in the statement. It was more of a matter of fact realization. The last realm had metal people trying to hunt him down to kill him, and the only way he managed to escape was by ending up in the sky heading toward another metal place.
Arz knew he wasn’t the luckiest person, but things often had a way of working out. It was easiest to attribute that to his unquestionable intelligence, but it was just as easy for Arz to make mistakes as it was anyone else. He just usually had a solution to get out of those mistakes.
Now, with an entire metal structure right before him, he was out of ideas.
“Will these ones be made of metal or flesh?” He relaxed as the idea of accepting his fate settled. Was he happy about dying? Of course not. His family needed to be avenged. The Guild of Wizards had Alorala’s blood on their hands.
The metal structure shifted like two doors parting, only to reveal a wall of green, much like the bubble, which passed through the wall without trouble. The bubble popped and disappeared, dropping Arz onto a cold metal floor inside a long corridor. A pile of sludge, or maybe slime, wiggled at Arz’s feet.
In any other situation, he wouldn’t have thought about it at all. Different realms had different waste. Perhaps somebody had an accident in the corridor.
Except, Arz knew better.
The pile of slime in front of him wore a helmet and held onto a tall metal spear that had little bolts of electricity dancing around the tip.
This slime was alive.
“Hello?” Arz asked as he cautiously stood. While on his feet, Arz towered over the slime creature. Its spear was hardly as tall as Arz, who wasn’t all that tall for a human.
The slime creature wriggled and moved a little closer, but if any words were spoken, they were lost to Arz. At least the metal people were clearly speaking a language he didn’t know.
“Do you understand me?”
The slime didn’t react.
A door opened, hissing as it slid aside. Three more slime creatures scooted into the room, pausing briefly beside the first one. Arz calmly watched the whole interaction, if one could even call it that. No words, no gestures. No type of communication that Arz understood happened. It wasn’t long before the other slimes continued on, disappearing through another door.
“If you can understand me, thank you for saving me from the outside. I would like to return home.” Arz pulled his last purple vial out from his pocket. “This could possibly get me home, but I need something to strengthen it, and I need a source of electricity.”
The slime’s spear angled down until the electrified tip buzzed in front of Arz’s face. Little bolts of electricity danced in the air around the spear, as if the area around the tip was electrified.
“Can I use this?”
The spear remained stationary.
“Or am I being threatened?” Arz took a small step backward, making sure to stay far enough away from the green doorway that led back out into space.
“Wow, what I would do to understand.”
The slime turned, swinging the spear through the air. Arz was glad he had moved away from it or else that swing might have sliced his throat. When the slime started moving, Arz wasn’t sure he should follow. His instincts wanted to warn him of obvious traps, but the slimes could have left him out in space. Would exploring the building be more dangerous?
Arz felt that he had finely honed instincts, but they weren’t sure how to react to piles of jelly with armor and spears. When he thought about it more, Arz supposed he didn’t know how to react either.
He let his mind wander, considering what his instincts would look like if they separated from him, as he followed the slime. There was a small sticky trail left wherever his escort passed, but it was minimal and seemed to evaporate or disintegrate over time. If not, it seemed like there would be trails everywhere. How would they mop?
Arz considered the electrified spear and decided the slimes could figure out how to mop.
They passed into a corridor of windows. Each panel was angled out, forming the whole corridor into a wedge with a wide top and narrow floor. The swirling ball was beautiful from the safety of the slimes’ building. It was gigantic, Arz was realizing more than before. He fell behind as he stopped and watched trails of white swirl above a pink surface so far away.
The slime was passing into a new chamber by the time Arz caught up. It was a big dome of a room with slimes all over the place. Some had no armor or weapons, others stood guard near the various doorways.
Panels of light stretched before slimes on top of platforms all throughout the chamber, with the highest platform in the center. Light panels with images moving across surrounded the slime in the center. It was impossible to tell which panel the slime was looking at, as they were in all directions and there were no eyes or face to follow.
Arz’s slime continued, not slowing down at all in the vast chamber. Not that it was moving all that fast to begin with. He caught up each time by walking normally. It was a slow, lumbering walk to keep pace with the creature.
“Where are we going?” Arz asked, knowing he wouldn’t get an answer. It was a lot like talking to Sal, he realized. Sometimes he was only talking for the fun of it. Working his voice, he could say.
If nothing else, he was finding a way to enjoy himself. Nothing had tried to kill him since he stepped through the portal. Well, nothing living tried to kill him. He was away from the time bubbles and the metal people, and that was all that mattered.
Before long, they wound their way through another corridor, only to end up in a small room with glass walls. Each pane of glass had tiny holes punched through it and one section with hinges that was obviously meant to be a door. The only issue was that it was as tall as the slimes.
Arz’s escort opened the door and seemed to be waiting for him to step inside. There was nothing but a bucket inside the glass room. Arz sighed. “Is this a cell?”
Of course, the slime pointed the electrified spear at Arz.
“Fine.” He ducked through the doorway and stood on the other side of the glass. Even his breathing seemed to echo in such a confined space. “This is, uh, not great.”
A panel slid open, leaving a trail of green slime that reminded Arz of the door he had passed through to end up inside the slime’s vast building. He approached and crouched until he was at eye level.
The slime backed away and waited beside the far wall.
Arz sighed and sat down, which still kept him at eye level with the opening. He still had everything on him. Nobody had checked before they imprisoned him, which made him smirk. Even Higgrion was smarter than these creatures.
Well, Arz wanted to take that back.
Two more slimes entered the room.
There wasn’t any visible difference between the two who entered. Neither had armor nor weapons, so they only looked like indistinct blobs of green slime. One approached, holding two glass vials similar to those Arz carried. It stuck them through the slime wall and held them out in its tentacle-like arm until Arz grabbed them.
The slimes waited, unmoving as Arz inspected the vials. One was filled with green slime, very similar to the creatures. It was so similar that Arz expected it to start moving inside the vial.
The other had bits of orange-tinted gravel that seemed to send out sparks. In fact, Arz had seen something very similar before.
“Sparkstones?”
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With that, he could escape. Arz pulled out the purple vial, but hesitated. Why would they lock him in a cell only to give him a way to leave. What was the green slime for?
Arz carefully pulled out his notebook, keeping his eye on the slimes as he started to write.
I had ended up in a facility with green slime creatures who are undoubtedly intelligent. I have seen no form of communication, but they seem to be communicating with each other in some way. I could escape after they have given me shards of sparkstones, but they have also given me a vial of slime. I would assume there is some use for this item. Is it a spy that will infiltrate Earth if I bring it back? Or is it an ingredient for a recipe they want me to make?
I have decided that I will try to make a recipe using what they have given me, because they have been waiting patiently even as I write all this down.
Arz took the top of the slime vial. It was a twisted top, like a screw, instead of a cork. He made a mental note. That would be useful for some materials. Like the darkfire oil that still burned even while in a glass container. The last thing Arz needed was a cork combusting while in his pocket.
He sniffed the slime and recoiled. It smelled like flatulence. But even worse. The stench grew stronger and more potent the longer the cap was off. Arz screwed it back on and coughed, waving his hand to try to clear the smell.
He looked closer at the contents of the vial, even holding it up to the slime door to compare. The vial had small bubbles and small fibers floating inside. It was already a potion of some kind.
Compared to the slime door or the slimes beyond, the vial was filthy. There was so much floating inside, but it was all mixed that he hadn’t even noticed right away.
With the slimes still waiting for Arz, he figured the only ingredients he needed were in the vials. Why else would they only hand him the two?
What was the purpose?
He took the top of the sparkstone vial. It was as if they had ground up a stone and put the dust and chunks inside. Arz had never thought to do that because the full stones were already fragments of the larger geysers.
And the full stones would explode into a cloud of sparks when thrown. The dust would do nothing if he poured it out. He held the vials side by side. The slime had some room at the top. Room for the dust, he guessed.
Arz took a deep breath and took the top off the slime vial. Even with his breath held, he could feel the stench rise as small bubbles popped at the top of the slime. There was some doubt in Arz’s mind. Was the slime vial really any other than just some vile mixture? Was this a joke for the slimes? His chest tightened as he started running out of air.
He poured the sparkstone gravel out, shaking it into the slime. A bit missed, brushing against Arz’s hand, where it stung like a little static shock. Inside the slime, the gravel immediately sank in and caused the mixture to heat up. More bubbles came out on top.
There was a reaction, obviously, but what was the ideal result? Arz looked past the vial at the creatures on the other side of the wall. They hadn’t moved since he started.
He finally let his breath out. The smell had calmed some, but it still certainly reeked.
“Now what?”
A tentacle-like arm popped out of a slime. The end of the arm morphed into the shape of the vial as the slime mimicked bending an elbow.
“Drink it?” Arz asked, astonished. The mixture looked horrendous. Even if it was safe for the slimes to consume, he couldn’t imagine it would be safe for a human.
The slime kept repeating the motion, clearly pretending to dump the vial into its mouth, if it had one.
“Well, if I die, it’s your fault,” he said, knowing the slimes didn’t care. “Like a shot of alcohol.” Arz breathed loudly out his nose, put the vial to his lips, and tilted his head back.
The potion stung as it ran over his tongue. It moved like thick water down his throat. Maybe more like syrup.
Arz gagged and covered his mouth as he fought his own body. After what felt like an age, he forced the whole potion down. It stung as it passed through his system and rested in his stomach.
“Horrible, horrible, horrible.” He took a deep breath. “At least I’m not dead.”
“Yes. This is a success, Wildil.” The voice was high-pitched and caused Arz to immediately stumble backward.
“Who said that?”
The slimes had yet to move.
“When you are talking to Lord Jifftha, ensure you are using the proper titles,” another high-pitched voice said.
Arz slowly approached the slime door. “Are you talking?” he asked, looking right at the nearest slime.
“No, it was me.” The voice had no discernible origin.
“Okay, I apologize, but I don’t understand.”
“I thought you did understand.”
Arz rubbed his eyes. His stomach gurgled as the potion settled. “No, I understand your words. I don’t understand who is talking. How can I tell?”
“It is not obvious?”
“Actually, no. Not at all.”
“Hm, something to note, Wildil,” the first voice said.
“Which one of you is Wildil?” Arz asked.
The one who had passed the vials through the door moved a bit closer. “I am Wildil, lead scientist of the Gargaxia Station.”
“Scientist? Oh, great. I’d love to talk more. Who are the other two?”
“The other two?” Wildil suddenly sounded upset. “The one behind me is Lord Jifftha of Gargaxia.”
“Oh.” Arz bowed his head. “Lord.”
“I have other duties. Inform me what you learn,” Jifftha said. The lord slime scooted away while Wildil and the guard remained in place.
“I thought he was going to stay and talk,” Arz said.
“You think the Lord of Gargaxia has time for you?”
“I honestly don’t know anything about any of you.” Arz leaned his head against the glass beside the slime door. “So, scientist, tell me what I drank.” Arz ran his finger over his injured hand. It was scabbed over, but still tender.
“That was a mix of Jumthin slime, Jumthin vine, and gas from the swamps of Jumtha.”
“You sure used that word a lot. What is Jumthin?”
“Us,” Wildil said. “We are the Jumthins of Jumtha.”
“Wait.” Arz’s stomach gurgled again, suddenly feeling a lot worse. “I just drank you?”
“In a way, I suppose. Slime is harvested from young Jumthins for this very purpose. If we encounter an intelligent being to communicate with, we need to be able to connect our minds.”
“That’s how we’re talking?”
“Our DNA has mixed. Our words and your words are not the same, but your mind is now processing the communication between us in a singular way.”
“If I ran into another person that spoke even differently, would I understand them?” Arz asked.
“Only if their DNA is combined with yours and the slime.”
Arz wrote notes down as Wildil talked. Those metal people continually repeated the same phrase. Perhaps he could return to that realm if he could understand them.
“Have you met other intelligent people?” Arz asked.
“It’s complicated. Before we continue, tell me who you are. We have not seen one such as you before.”
“I’m from Earth. I’m, uh, a human.” Arz looked at his hands. “I don’t really know what to say. I’m an alchemist that has been traveling to different realms.”
“Realms?” Wildil asked.
“I don’t know. I can open portals and I end up somewhere else.”
“Is that how you ended up on an asteroid outside our station?”
“Is an asteroid the rock I was on?”
“Yes.”
“Then yes.” Arz wrote another note, making sure to underline the word Asteroid.
“How do you make portals?”
Arz wasn’t sure if he should show the purple vial or not, but the slimes hadn’t been too aggressive, even if he was currently locked in a cell. He would need to use it eventually, so he might as well see if Wildil would have some insight.
Arz held the return potion up to the slime door. “This is a recipe I made that returns me home. I use purple leaves from a different realm. I call them Storm Tree leaves.”
“This Storm Tree . . .” Wildil took the vial in a tentacle-like arm and held it for a moment before returning it to Arz. “Is it from a storming planet with geysers of electricity?”
“Yes. That gravel you gave me was from there, right?”
“Yes. That is Glacirith. It was once a valuable planet of the people known as Ricarun.”
“I saw nobody there,” Arz said, thinking back to his first time in the Storm Lands. He had fled there in defiance to the Guild of Wizards, hoping to explore a new land for Alorala. He supposed he had explored, but a more realistic perspective would be that he had been trapped.
“The Ricarun are long dead, but their planets remain unique places. Where did you come from before appearing outside Gargaxia?”
“I was stuck in a place with time bubbles and metal people.”
“Ah, I know it. Doumenus was the last bastion of the Ricarun.” Wildil moved even closer to the wall and spoke quietly. “You say metal people?”
“Yes.” Arz imagined the people in his mind. “Four arms, four eyes, long heads.”
“Oh. AZ-32s. I assumed they had failed. Have you never heard of a robot?”
“A what?” Arz readied his pen.
“Robots are metal creatures made by the Ricarun. There are other models, but the AZ-32 model was their main guard force. They were created to look like the Ricarun themselves, which is an odd choice. Some of their other models were far more creative. The 32s you ran into must be ancient.”
“They looked like they were falling apart.” Arz underlined the word Robot three times in his notebook. “Are they not alive?”
“That is a complicated question. One I am not fit to answer. The Jumthins do not use robots. We do not believe in creating false life.”
“So, they are alive?” Arz scribbled the word ‘Alive?’ beside Robot.
“It could be argued both ways.”
Arz’s stomach rumbled loudly. The translation potion only stirred his deep hunger. “I need to return home. It has been a long time since I’ve been back, and I have a friend that I want to ensure is being taken care of. Could I use the guard’s spear to create a portal home?”
“No,” Wildil said.
“Oh. I thought we were getting along.”
“I will speak with Lord Jifftha. You may get comfortable in your cell.”
“Do you have food?”
“Not that you would want to consume.” Wildil scooted away, ignoring everything else Arz said.
The guard remained stationary, not moving even a little. Arz sighed and leaned back against the glass wall. At least he had his notebook and plenty of notes to catch up on.
The Ricarun, robots, and all the Jumtha or Jumthin related things. That was a lot of information at once, and he wasn’t sure he even remembered all of it.
I drank part of a slime to be able to understand their language. The potion was bitter and disgusting, but it has settled in my stomach without issue. If anything, it has made me more hungry and thirsty.
I was trapped on the planet Doumenus, which was a bastion for the people known as Ricarun. Who are they? I don’t know. But the metal people hunting me down were referred to as robots. Or more specifically, AZ-32s. They are both alive and not alive, and I don’t really understand what that means.
These Ricarun created robots. I think? All of this information came from a pile of slime, and I don’t know if I even believe what I’m writing.
What I wouldn’t give to be home, to be in Bralincote, to be the smartest man in the room again. Where was Higgrion or Jaralath when you needed them? I want to feel smart again, and the best way to do that is to surround yourself with idiots.
