Worm Buddies [Jan Short Story - Nexus Games?]

Hey peeps!

Here is the SECOND short story for January! (Sorry, last post I said Feb... It's still Jan).

This one is a short story I wrote for a contest. It's from a worm's POV, and in case you weren't aware, I love little worms and the concepts behind them. I'm sorry. I'm weird.

I put a lot of the ideas into things like the Tyranny Worms seen in the Nexus Games, which is why this story might be the inspiration behind them. 

I hope you enjoy! 

Worm Buddies

In the body of a snail, a war was raging.

A superior trematode flatworm had infiltrated the snail’s shell and was now devouring a part of the creature’s body. The snail struggled against its invader, but there was little it could do. After a mercifully short neural conversion, the worm seized control of the snail, piloting the body like a flesh vehicle.

Now that the war was over, the superior trematode flatworm had more work to do.

A normal trematode flatworm would clone itself over and over again until it represented forty percent of the snail’s body. Then the colony of worms would drive its host around a garden, deconstructing biomaterials to sustain its growth, and ultimately drop off infiltrator worms to take over more snails.

But the superior trematode flatworm was different.

Smarter.

More aware.

This worm—the progenitor of all the other superior worms—used the flesh of the snail to birth two types of worms. The first was simply a lesser clone—so the worms could infest more snails, like before—and the second type of worm was special. It was born with a copy of the DNA of its vehicle host, and then used the blueprints of the body to make repairs and improvements. If the snail was injured, the secondary worms would change their body using the code in the DNA to heal the wound or fix any lost functionality.

And the snail moved quicker. It produced a thicker slime. The secondary worms always had things to improve.

The progenitor worm, aware of its progress, liked this. Normal trematode flatworms couldn’t experience satisfaction or appreciation, and most of the lesser clone superior trematode flatworms couldn’t either. But the progenitor worm had improved capabilities—improved perception.

And with all its enhanced senses and intelligence, the worm knew it was under observation.

The shadow of a gigantic beast loomed overhead. Piloting the snail body, the progenitor worm moved into a sheltered location.

But it was trapped.

Confined.

In a rectangular prison. Using the sight organs of the snail, the progenitor worm recognized the walls of its prison were transparent. The snail couldn’t pass through them, even if the snail saw everything beyond.

“This is prototype PT-24,” the beast garbled. The sounds from its cranial orifice meant nothing to the worm. “So far, the DNA and genetic mutations have remained stable. PT-24 has produced offspring.”

The gargantuan beast tapped on the transparent walls.

Bang, bang, bang.

“PT-24,” the beast garbled again.

And again.

And again.

The beast would leave, return, and then leave again, each time carrying something and taping on it, too. The massive creature always screeched and made odd noises, but one sound remained consistent and constant.

PT-24.

The beast screeched it so often, the noises became comforting. The progenitor worm liked the sound, and when it thought of itself, the worm recalled the soft way the beast garbled this one noise.

PT-24.

That was the worm’s name.

***

PT-24 cloned more lesser worms, and sent them off to infest more snails.

Make more. Infest more. Create. Thrive. Expand. The drive to control every snail was all-consuming. PT-24 didn’t care why it had such a desire, all it cared about was satisfying it.

The giant beast returned, time and time again. Sometimes with more snails. Sometimes for short periods of time. PT-24 didn’t understand. The beast never consumed the snails. It never grabbed the worms. If this beast wasn’t eating, thriving, and expanding, what was it doing? What purpose did ithave?

PT-24 didn’t like these thoughts. They weren’t thoughts about snails. Or expanding. Or reproducing.

Wasteful thoughts.

But one day, as the beast lowered more wormless snails into the transparent prison, PT-24 had a revelation. The beast wasexpanding. It was the real progenitor worm. It had created PT-24, and it provided PT-24 with more snails to infest, more material to consume, more places to reproduce. Yes. That was the answer.

It wasn’t a giant beast.

It was… the ultimate trematode flatworm.

Yes.

Yes!

That made sense to PT-24. It was the only correct answer to the wasteful thoughts. From then on, the beast would be known as Ultimate Worm.

And that made PT-24 happier.

***

One day, Ultimate Worm returned to the transparent prison with a clone of itself.

Or perhaps… a lesser clone. The clone was similar to Ultimate Worm, but different. Not shaped right. Probably a deformed worm that hadn’t gotten enough nutrition during the formation process.

Ultimate Worm had thin limbs, a curved body, delicate skin, and something on its head? Tentacles on its head? Yes. Tentacles.And they were long.

The deformed worm was the opposite in all ways. It had thick limbs, short tentacles on the head, and a stockier body.

What a terrible clone! PT-24 decided to refer to this abomination of worms as Lumpy.

Ultimate Worm leaned closer to the prison and delivered more snails.

Perfect.

More expansion opportunities.

“You need to stop making out with that terrarium,” Lumpy garbled, its odd sounds completely foreign to PT-24. It understood none of these vibrations through the air. Why did these worms do that?

Ultimate Worm continued its glorious work. “Ha, ha. Stop making jokes and help me come up with a name for the flatworms.”

Ultimate Worm gently moved the snails around, pushing them closer to cloned worms, making them easier to target.

PT-24 liked this.

Lumpy made a clicking noise. It moved around the outside of the transparent prison, no doubt jealous of PT-24 and all its progress.

Look how many snails had been assimilated!

PT-24 was proud.

“The worms already have a name,” Lumpy screeched.

“N-No, I mean help me come up with a cute nickname.” Ultimate Worm reached out and touched PT-24’s designated snail. “No one calls a trematode flatworm a zombie worm. They call it a fluke. That makes it sound adorable. Likeable.”

Lumpy snorted and stomped around. “You want to trick the director into thinking your body-worms are cute? That’s an interesting strategy.” It tapped on the prison walls. “Is interesting the right word?”

“I need to make it sound trustworthy. Maybe I can call this worm a helper buddy.”

“Maybe we can call herpes a scratchy buddy.”

Ultimate Worm flailed its limbs at Lumpy. PT-24 recognized the aggression. Perhaps Ultimate Worm would reabsorb Lumpy and birth a new one to replace it. Clearly, Lumpy wasn’t fulfilling its assigned role properly.

“This is serious,” Ultimate Worm garbled. “These worms will change everything if I can get the funding. They make humans more resistant to G-forces. We’ll heal faster. Process information more efficiently. But no one will give me funds if they think they’re zombie worms.”

“True.”

“Whatever name I use, I’ll credit you in my final papers. So, please… help me.”

“Hm.”

PT-24 birthed more worms. Infested more snails. Was Ultimate Worm watching? Was it pleased with PT-24’s progress? The noises Ultimate Worm made were softer than Lumpy’s, and PT-24 wanted to hear them. Ultimate Worm’s garbled noises were comforting.

“Maybe call it a patch.” Lumpy tapped the prison again. “Because they patch you up? Get it? That’s cute.”

“A patch… Yes. I like it.”

“Have you advanced to human testing yet?”

“No. But soon. Very soon. We just have to wait for the next shuttle to arrive. Our test subjects will be aboard.”

Lumpy moved away from the transparent prison. “The solar flares have been off the charts lately. Equipment keeps failing. I wouldn’t be surprised if the shuttle gets delayed.”

“Don’t jinx us. I want to see my hard work finally pay off.”

And then Lumpy left. Ultimate Worm stood near the prison. Watching. Waiting.

PT-24 wondered why. When PT-24 created clones, it was for a specific purpose. When the worms carried that out, PT-24 was proud. Was Ultimate Worm waiting for PT-24 to complete its purpose?

Then Ultimate Worm left.

PT-24 didn’t like that.

***

Over the course of several days, Ultimate Worm visited less frequently.

Ultimate Worm brought fewer snails, stayed shorter periods of time, and didn’t garble as often. PT-24 couldn’t remember the last time Ultimate Worm had said its name. Not even Lumpy returned. The silence left in their wake haunted PT-24’s wasteful thoughts.

Had PT-24 done something wrong?

Wasn’t Ultimate Worm pleased with all its hard work? PT-24 had expanded as far as it could go, and had absorbed all the resources it could. But the transparent prison kept it from reaching its true potential. PT-24 couldn’t seem to escape.

Perhaps that was why Ultimate Worm was disappointed.

PT-24 piloted the snail vehicle to every corner of the prison, but there were no holes. And no matter how hard and thoroughly PT-24 searched, there was nothing to find. The only time there was any way out was when Ultimate Worm came by to deposit more snails. Ultimate Worm would lift the ceiling and lower in more resources.

But the ceiling sealed itself after every visit.

PT-24’s failures were obvious. It couldn’t expand any further. What a pathetic worm it was. Ultimate Worm must’ve noticed. Perhaps Ultimate Worm considered PT-24 just another “Lumpy” defect clone. Or perhaps Ultimate Worm wanted to reabsorb PT-24 and try again.

Nothing had ever hurt as much as that one thought.

PT-24 wanted to impress Ultimate Worm. It wanted to prove itself competent and worthy.

But how?

Obviously, PT-24 had to expand further. It would have to find a way. The DNA? The snail DNA… It needed to be altered. It had to be improved.

Yes.

That was how PT-24 would impress Ultimate Worm.

***

Unbeknownst to the residents of the space station, an escape plan was being carried out inside the tiny terrarium.

The once harmless snails now produced an acidic slime that corroded plastic at a shockingly fast rate. If someone had been observing the phenomenon, it would’ve been documented as a great scientific feat. Never before had a superior trematode flatworm used an army of snails to free itself from its confines.

PT-24 escaped its transparent prison, savoring the sweet taste of victory and triumph as it piloted its snail out into the greater world. Soon, Ultimate Worm would be impressed with PT-24’s achievements.

Yes.

So impressed.

But where was Ultimate Worm?

As PT-24 and its army of worm-infested snails worked their way over the cold steel surfaces, it realized there wasn’t much to find. Ultimate Worm had delivered snails on a regular basis. PT-24 had assumed the world outside its prison was filled with snails. But the outside world was devoid of most life.

Red light flashed at a disturbing rate, harming the visual organs of the snail.

PT-24 didn’t understand.

Where was all the life?

Basic instincts told PT-24 everything it needed to know in that moment. If it didn’t find any more life, PT-24 and all its clones would die.

Pressing forward, the platoon of snails traversed the smooth surfaces, seeking out their destiny. But it was difficult. The temperature wasn’t the same as in the tiny prison. Warm spots, and cold spots, threatened to kill the snail vehicle. PT-24 had to navigate away from anything that would be considered fatal.

Its clones weren’t as clever.

Some shriveled and died. Others melted. The extreme temperatures were too much.

PT-24 was disappointed in them. Although PT-24 knew they were—by design—not as effective, PT-24 had still hoped they would do better.

Was that how Ultimate Worm felt about PT-24?

The dreaded thought sent PT-24 exploring further than ever. It needed to find Ultimate Worm. It needed to find something.

One by one, all the snails in PT-24’s army ceased to function. They couldn’t go on. It was too hot, and then too cold, and with no materials and resources, the snails died.

Only PT-24 remained, and that wouldn’t last long.

PT-24 did everything it could to get its snail vessel moving. It had to see Ultimate Worm again. It had to prove itself. It had to show Ultimate Worm everything it had done!

PT-24…

Refused…

To…

Give up.

And then it happened! Ultimate Worm!

The snail vehicle slid up to Ultimate Worm’s side. Unlike before, Ultimate Worm remained grounded. No movement. No screeching or garbling. PT-24 was so elated, it almost didn’t register those anomalies as unusual. What was Ultimate Worm doing? Resting?

PT-24’s snail stopped functioning.

Panic replaced PT-24’s elation. How was it going to show Ultimate Worm everything it had done now? Was PT-24 just going to die in front of its ultimate creator?

What a cruel fate.

With only a short span of life remaining, PT-24 disengaged from the snail corpse and slithered onto the cold, steel surface beyond the flesh of the mollusk. PT-24 writhed as fast as it could until it reached Ultimate Worm.

PT-24 touched Ultimate Worm’s flesh, and after a moment, penetrated the epidermis. PT-24 feared it would be reabsorbed, but if given the choice of death on cold steel, or death via reabsorption, PT-24 wanted the latter.

But once within the bloodstream…

PT-24 wasn’t reabsorbed. No. That wasn’t even an option. The chemicals racing throughout Ultimate Worm’s being told a different tale.

Ultimate Worm was dying.

There wasn’t much time to do everything PT-24 wanted, but the moment the worm absorbed material from Ultimate Worm, it went to work. PT-24 made three kinds of clones. Lesser clones to spread throughout the body and continue work; fleshy clones to use their bodies to repair Ultimate Worm; and DNA-altering clones that would spread modified strands of DNA throughout the system.

Ultimate Worm was so much more complex than a snail.

That didn’t discourage PT-24. Nothing would please it more than to impress Ultimate Worm with its work. It had modified the DNA of a snail—it could make a minor change here.

Because Ultimate Worm wasn’t dying from an external predator’s attack or even an internal disease. Ultimate Worm was being slowly torn apart by tiny particles that bounced around and broke all bonds they touched. And Ultimate Worm didn’t have any protections written into its DNA to prevent this. Ultimate Worm needed a slower cell reproduction cycle, since its cells seemed vulnerable during the cytokinesis process.

PT-24 could change that. It just needed to work fast. Make more worms. Eat more resources.

Expand.

Thrive.

Improve.

But Ultimate Worm was too complicated an organism to pilot like the snails. PT-24 needed to wake Ultimate Worm. Chemicals were released into the bloodstream, including histamine and serotonin. Ultimate Worm began to stir once the chemicals filtered throughout the nervous system.

“The… radiation…” Ultimate Worm garbled, its noises heard by the worm, even deep within the cells of its glorious progenitor worm. “Need to… manually activate…”

Ultimate Worm moved of its own accord.

PT-24 hoped it would ingest more resources. They needed to thrive! But Ultimate Worm didn’t ingest anything. From what PT-24 could sense, the temperature in the nearby area was stabilizing. No more cold. No more hot. Ultimate Worm was altering the environment like PT-24 altered DNA.

Ultimate Worm’s body operated at higher efficiencies as more changes on the outside were made. PT-24 stopped panicking. This was ideal. Once Ultimate Worm was safe, it would surely return to its reproduction and creation cycle.

All would be well.

Would Ultimate Worm be pleased? PT-24 hoped so.

“Start the decontamination process,” Ultimate Worm screeched.

Other noises sounded in response.

“Foreign lifeforms were discovered inside your bloodstream.”

“Lifeforms?” Ultimate Worm’s noises weren’t as pleasant as before.

“We need to administer treatment right away. We recommend levamisole.”

“But that’s used to kill parasitic worms. Is that what I have?”

“We believe so.”

The garbling noises faded from PT-24’s perceptions. Why did it care? Ultimate Worm wasn’t saying its name, which meant Ultimate Worm wasn’t referring to PT-24. It returned to its improvements, trying to make sure Ultimate Worm would never suffer problems ever again.

When Ultimate Worm felt fear, chemicals were dispersed into the bloodstream, mostly adrenaline. What was Ultimate Worm fearful of? All the external threats had been dealt with.

“No,” Ultimate Worm garbled, louder than ever before. PT-24 didn’t like the distress. “No. This is my life’s work. My research.”

“There’s a chance—”

“Can’t you see it’s working? See? The worms… they patched me right up. They’re little patches. Even the scans say the radiation damage halted. They work! Do you know what this will mean for safe travel?”

Dopamine and endorphins filled Ultimate Worm, signifying its elation. PT-24 loved these chemicals. It reveled in the happiness, and enjoyed its time as a unit in Ultimate Worm’s ecosystem. Was this how worms were supposed to function? Together? PT-24 hadn’t thought of that before. They were a hive. A superior hive of beautiful superior trematode flatworms.

It felt like Ultimate Worm was proud.

PT-24 liked that.