Chapter 25 Chapter Twenty-Three

At dawn, Mary began to moan and struggle.I went to the bed and put my hands on her. "Okay baby, okay, it's okay, Sam's here." She opened her eyes, her eyes were still full of fear like when she was possessed, she didn't relax until she saw me. "Sam, oh dear, I had the most terrible dream." "It's okay." I said again. "Why are you wearing gloves?" She noticed the bandaged wound on her body and said in panic, "So it wasn't a dream!" "No, my dearest, it's not a dream. But it's all right, I'll kill it."

"You killed it? Are you sure it's dead?" "Of course." The room was still filled with the stench of dead slugs. "Oh, come here, Sam. Hold me tight." "Will touch the wound on your shoulder." "hug me!" I had to obey.She doesn't care about the pain at all, but I try to be careful not to touch her wound.After a while, the trembling all over her body slowed down, and finally almost stopped completely, "Forgive me, dear, I acted too weak and feminine." "You remember my mental state when I first escaped from the slug."

"Of course I do. Now tell me what the hell happened. I must know. The last thing I remember is you trying to push me to the fire." "Look, Mary, I have no choice, I have to, or I can't get it off!" She held my shoulder, and now it was her turn to comfort me. "I get it, honey, I get it. Thank you for everything! I appreciate you from the bottom of my heart, and thank you again for everything," We both cried, and after a while I blew my nose and said, "I called you at first, but you didn't make a sound, so I went into the living room and saw you there."

"I remember—oh, dear, I struggled, I struggled!" I watch her. "I know you tried—trying to break free. But how can you still struggle? Once the slug has you, it's over. It's impossible to fight it." "Well, I lost, but I did try my best." This is a mystery.Somehow, Mary was able to resist the slug with her willpower.I know it's almost impossible.True, she lost in the end, but I understand that I married a woman who is stronger than I am, despite her beautiful curves and perfect femininity. I had a hunch that if Mary hadn't been fighting the slug for a while, however briefly, however lowly, I couldn't stand it myself and would have lost the fight.

"I should have turned on the light then, Sam," she went on, "but I've never been scared here." I nodded in agreement, the place is safe and feels as grounded as going to bed or throwing into the arms of a shelter, " Pirata immediately ran towards me and I didn't see the slug until I bent down and touched it, but it was too late," she sat up, propping herself up on one arm, "where is it, Sam Is it alright? Carry it in." So I had to tell her what happened to Pirata.She listened expressionlessly, nodded, and never mentioned it again. I hurriedly changed the subject, "Since you're awake, I'll get you some breakfast."

"Don't go!" I stopped, "don't let me lose sight of you," she said again, "you are not allowed to leave for any reason. I will get up and cook for you in a while." "I won't let you go! You just stay on the bed, obediently." "Come here, take off your gloves, and let me see your hands." I didn't pick it off, and the injury on my hand was unbearable, because the anesthetic had lost its effect at this time. She nodded.said angrily. "As I expected, the burns on your hands are worse than mine." So she cooks, and she can still eat, and I just want a pot of coffee.I insisted that she drink more too.Extensive burns are no joke.

She pushed the plate aside, looked at me and said, "Honey, I don't feel sorry at all for what happened. Now, I know how you felt. We've all been there." I nod.I understand what she means. Now, we not only share the sweetness, but also experience the same kind of pain. She stood up and said, "Now, we have to go." "Yes," I agreed, "you must go. I want to find you a doctor as soon as possible." "I'm not talking about that." "I know." There's no need to discuss it now, we both know: the music has stopped, we should get back to work.

The car I rented when I arrived was still parked on my landing pad and the rent was accruing.Washing the dishes, switching off all but the permanent circuits, and getting ready to go—all in three minutes.When I left, I couldn't find my shoes, but Mary remembered where I had taken them off. I hurt my hand, so Mary drove.Up in the air, she turned to me and said, "Let's go straight to the headquarters office, where we can find out what happened while treating your injuries. Is your hand hurting a lot?" "It's okay." I agreed. My hand hurts, but I can still hold on for an hour. I also want to understand the situation as soon as possible and start working again.I asked Mary to turn on the call screen, and I longed for the news broadcast as much as I had longed to avoid it.But the communication equipment on the car is as bad as other equipment, we can't even hear the sound.Fortunately, the remote control circuit can still be used, otherwise Mary would have to drive manually.

I had a thought that bothered me for a while, and I told Mary about it: "Slugs don't ride cats just for fun, do they?" "I don't think so." "But why does it do this? It doesn't make sense. But there must be a reason for it. There are reasons for everything the Titans do, at least from their point of view." "I know why. Didn't they catch me this way?" "Yes, I know. But how did they plan it? The number of Titans is not enough. It is impossible to put one on a cat. It is true that cats can catch people, but the possibility is very small. With their number, they cannot afford to waste .Maybe they're already in that number?" I thought of the speed at which the slugs split into two on the monkey's back, of Kansas City being infiltrated to saturation.I shivered.

"Why me, honey? I don't have an analytical brain." In a sense, what she said was true.It's not that there is anything wrong with Mary's brain, but she doesn't consider the problem logically, but relies on intuition to solve the problem directly.And I have to rely on logical analysis and rack my brains. "Don't go with the little girl's fake modesty, just think about this: First of all, where did the slug come from? It can't walk, it can only transfer from another host to a pitotta. What kind Where's the host? Old John, John the Shepherd, I say. I don't believe Pirata would let anyone else get close to him."

"Old John?" Mary closed her eyes and opened them again. "I can't feel anything. I've never been near him." "Never mind, by the process of elimination, I figured that must be the case. Everyone obeyed the 'Naked Back Order,' and old John had his clothes on. . . he got off because he kept out of sight. Damn, He must have been possessed by a slug long before the 'naked back plan'. But what I can't figure out is. Why did the slug choose him, a hermit in the mountains, as a target?" "To catch you." "I?" "Yes, to catch you again." There is some truth to this statement.Perhaps for them, any escaped host is an object of attention.If that's the case, then the dozen or so members of Congress we rescued, as well as anyone else, including Mary, are in extra danger.I have to record this situation, report it, and analyze it.No, Mary will be fine... because the only slug who knew she had been possessed was dead. Plus, they might especially want to catch me.So what is so special about me?I am a secret agent, and more importantly, the slug who controlled me must know that I know the old man and know that I have a chance to get close to him.This is enough to explain why they tried every means to catch me back.I have a strong feeling that the old man must be their number one enemy, and that the slug must know what I'm thinking, because it once took full control of my consciousness. The slug even met the old man and talked to him.Wait a minute, that slug is dead.Now my reasoning doesn't work anymore. But immediately re-established.I asked, "Mary, have you used your apartment since we had breakfast at it?" "no, what happened?" "Don't go back anyway. I remember, when I was with them, I tried to set a trap there." "Oh, you didn't do that, did you? You've set a trap there?" "No, I didn't, but maybe they've set a trap since then. It's the same kind of sit-and-wait old John's way of waiting for you or me to get back to the cabin." I told her about McIlwen Regarding the "group memory" theory of slugs, "I thought he was making it up at the time. Scientists always enjoy it, but now I'm not sure. His hypothesis can indeed explain all the problems." "Wait. Honey. According to Dr. McIlvin's theory, every slug is really every other slug, right? In other words, the thing that caught me last night was with you and the Titans The one that got on you all the time was one thing—well, my dear, I got confused. I mean—” "The general idea is this. When separated, they are individuals; when they talk directly, they fuse their memories into one, just like the two brothers in the movie. Deweeder Dem became De Weeder Di, indistinguishable. So, if it is true If so, last night's slug remembers what it learned from me, provided it had a direct conversation with the slug that rode me or any other slug it came into contact with. You can bet , it must have communicated with other slugs, from what I know of their habits. It may have - I mean the first one... wait, it's getting more and more complicated. Let's say there are three Slug: Joe, Mo, er, and Herbert. Herbert was the one from last night, Mo—" "If they're not individuals, why are they named?" Mary wanted to ask. "Just to make it easier for us to distinguish them, there is no other reason. Let's assume that McKilvin is right, then there are hundreds, thousands, maybe millions of slugs that recognize you and me. They also know you My respective apartments, my cabin. That is to say, they're after the two of us." "But—" she frowned, "that's a horrible thought, Sam. How do they know when they'll find us at the cabin? You didn't tell anyone where you were going, not even me. .Will they keep watch over the hut until we get to it? Yes, I think they will." "That's what they must be doing. We don't know if waiting is a big deal for slugs, time has a completely different meaning to them." "Just like the people from Venus." She thought about it. I nodded in agreement.A Venusian is quite likely to marry his own great-great-granddaughter, and he may even be younger than his descendants, depending, of course, on how they aestivate. "Anyway," I went on, "I'll have to report this, along with our reasoning about it, and let the Analysis Team guys fiddle with it." I would say that, if we are right, the Don must be very careful, because the Titans are not after Mary or me, but the Don himself.But before I could say anything, the phone rang, for the first time since I started my vacation. After connecting, the old man said: "Come and report to me in person." I responded, "We're on our way, we'll be there in about thirty minutes." "Quicker. You use the K5 line to come in, tell Mary to take the L1, act!" Before I could ask him how he knew Mary was with me, he hung up. "Did you hear that?" I asked Mary. "I heard, I'm online too." "Sounds like a good show is about to begin." It was only after we landed that we realized how drastically the situation had changed.We're still on the bareback program and never heard of a "sunbathing program".When we got out of the car, two policemen stopped us, "Stay where you are!" One of them ordered, "Don't make any sudden movements." You wouldn't have guessed they were cops if it weren't for their demeanor and the guns they drew.They carried only guns, shoes and minimal swimming trunks.It was only after a second glance that he noticed the police badge pinned to his belt.The same cop said, "Listen, man, take off your pants." My movements were a little slow, and I didn't meet his requirements.He snapped, "Come on! Two shots have been fired today, and you may be the third." "Get off, Sam," said Mary quietly. I did.My shorts and panties were a one-piece; when I took them off, I stood there in my shoes and gloves like an idiot.I managed to hide the phone and the gun while I was taking off my pants though. The police made me turn around.His companion said: "There is nothing suspicious on him, now check the next one." I started putting my shorts back on when the first cop stopped me. "Hey! Looking for trouble? Stop wearing it." I reasoned with him: "You've already been searched, I don't want to be arrested for being naked." He was amazed, then turned to his companion with a laugh and said, "Did you hear that, Ski? He's worried about getting caught for being naked." The second said patiently, "Listen, old man, be co-operative, understand? You know the rules. If it's up to me, it doesn't matter if you wear a big fur farmer. But you won't wear less or less. Get arrested decently, and you'll get arrested for overdressing. Tell you, the Sheriff's Committee shoots a lot faster than we do." He turned to Mary and said, "Now, get this lady checked." Mary didn't argue.Start taking off your shorts. The second policeman said kindly, "No need to take it off, ma'am, just turn it around slowly for a week." "Thanks." Mary complied, and the policeman's advice was so reasonable; Mary's panties looked as if they had been spray-painted, and the tank top was clearly clinging to her. "It's time to check the bandages next," said the second policeman. "Of course there's nothing hidden in her clothes." I thought to myself, man, you're wrong, I bet she's got at least two other guns stashed on her right now besides the one in her purse, and I'm pretty sure one of them goes way faster than yours!But I said, "She was badly burned, can't you see it?" He looked suspiciously at my sloppy bandages.My rule of dressing wounds is to wrap as much as possible, so if she really wanted to, she could have hidden a slug in the bandage on the worst shoulder. "Hmm..." he pondered, "If she was really burned..." "Of course she's burned!" I felt my judgment slipping away; I'm such a manly husband that when it comes to my wife, I lose my sense.I know that, and I love it. "Damn! Look at her hair! Did she burn her own hair just to fool you?" The first policeman said sullenly, "Someone would do that." The more patient officer said, "Carl's right. I'm sorry, ma'am, we have to check the bandages." I said excitedly, "You can't do this! We're on our way to the doctor. You have to—" Mary interrupted. "Help me, Sam. I can't untie it myself." I stopped talking and angrily lifted a corner of the mass of bandages with trembling hands.The old, friendly policeman whistled, "I'm satisfied. What about you, Karl?" "Me too, Skye. Oh girl, it looks like someone tried to grill you. What's up?" "Tell him, Sam." I told what happened.The older policeman finally commented: "I must say, what you have suffered is not too great. Please don't take it seriously. I mean no harm, ma'am. So it's the cat's turn now, isn't it? I know dogs are ridden. But, yes, and horses. But cats—I don't think ordinary cats can have slugs on them." His face was clouded. "I have a cat at home, and now I have to get rid of it. My child is Wouldn't like me doing it." "I'm sorry," Mary comforted, her tone sincere. "It's hard for everyone now. Well, you two, you can go." "Wait," said the first policeman, "Sky, if she's walking down the street with a bandage on her back, someone's probably going to shoot her down." The older policeman scratched his chin. "He's right," he said to Mary, "but you won't be able to bear the bandages off. We've got to get you a police car." They did.A police car was about to pull over and they waved to stop it. I paid the rent for the crappy car I had hired and rode with Mary to her special entrance at a hotel.The place can only be reached by a private elevator. In order to avoid too much explanation, I entered the elevator with her.She exited the elevator one floor below the instructions she had received in the car, and I continued up.I really wanted to go in with her, but the old man ordered me to enter through the K5 passage, and the K5 passage was right in front of me. I'd love to get back into shorts too.In the police car and through the side door of the hotel quickly, there was a police guard in case Marie was shot, and I didn't give much thought to whether I had clothes on or not.However, it takes a lot of courage to step out of the elevator without wearing pants and face the world. My worries are unnecessary.The short distance I have traveled is enough to show me that the current fashion trends, the original deep-rooted traditional habits have disappeared with the severe cold of last winter, and like the two policemen, the vast majority of men only wear clothes. Stripes cover the lower body, but I'm not the only one in New Brooklyn who is naked with nothing but shoes on.I especially remember that there was a man leaning against a street pillar, with stern eyes, examining every passerby.He wore only slippers, a badge that read "Committee of Peace" pinned to his arm, and an Owens riot gun slung over his arm. I saw three people dressed like this on the way to K5, and at least I was wearing shorts. Some women are also naked, and some women are not completely naked, but almost naked.They wear strappy bras and translucent plastic shorts that make it impossible to hide slugs. I think the vast majority of women still look good in clothes, preferably a loose tunic.If pastors had been worrying for years about women wearing too little clothes, they had misplaced their efforts before, for it did not call out the bestiality in men.The overall look of naked women is depressing, that was my first impression.Before I reached my destination, however, this feeling gradually faded.The ugly body is no more conspicuous than the ugly taxi, and gradually, the eyes naturally no longer pay attention to it.Everyone seems to have gotten used to it a long time ago, and the people on the street seem to have been completely indifferent. Perhaps it is the bare-back plan that made people mentally prepared in advance. It was much later that I remembered that after the first block, I was completely unaware of my nakedness.Before me, people had long ignored my nakedness.It seems so wrong, so wrong, that American society has, for centuries, made modest dress the law of obedience. Thinking about it a step further, this approach is like using a curtain that is blowing in the wind as evidence of a ghost.Whether you wear clothes or not doesn't explain anything, whether you are a good person or a bad person, moral or immoral.It's all skin, so what if you're naked? I was immediately allowed to see the old man.He raised his eyes and said angrily, "You're late." I asked instead: "Where's Mary?" "While being treated in the infirmary, you are giving a verbal report. Show me your hand." "No thanks, I'll see a doctor," I replied, not intending to take off my gloves, "What's going on?" "If you can bother to listen to the news broadcast, you'll know what's going on," he grumbled disapprovingly.