---

BZZZ... rppt... BRAPT... zhing WAH WAH WAH!

Hunter jerked upright. "STOP! Enough! ‘m ‘wake already," he grumped into the comm mike. He slumped back into his seat when memory kicked in. He sighed and wished for a handful of aspirin and something to wash it down with.

"Dwayne?" Jo’s voice was uncertain.

"If you dialed a wrong number, I will glory stomp you," grumbled Hunter.

There was a long pause on the other side and Hunter could imagine his crew exchanging worried looks.

"Dwayne, how’s the oxygen in there?"

"It’s a joke, okay?" he sighed.

"Since when did he have a sense of humor?" Mack grumbled.

"Maybe we do have a wrong number," Jo responded.

Hunter managed a faint smile. Not that his crew could see him. The video pickups were still out. "I do too have a sense of humor, I put up with you, don’t I?"

Big Guy gave a lurch, which set didn’t do Hunter’s head any good at all. After a few moments to orient himself, he decided that Big Guy was being dragged on his right side. "So, what’s my status?"

There was hemming and hawing on the other end of the mike, which Hunter interpreted as being bad news. "I take it Slate and Garth’s experiment didn’t pan out," he said. Then he added. "Duh."

"So far, Slate’s stumped," Jo confessed. "She and Garth and Thorton have tried everything short of a nuclear missile."

"They’ve tried cold, heat, acid...." Mack recited.

"Every form of radiation on the spectrum," Jo said.

Hunter cleared his throat. "What about water?" he asked dryly. As he spoke he methodically went through his reboot sequences to see if he could power up any of his instruments. Something dripped onto his arm and he scowled at it. Then he looked up at where Big Guy's right arm should have been connected and scowled at the line of gunk that was creeping in through the breach.

"They tried high pressure fire hoses," Mack said. "Not to mention steam and ice... oh, that would come under heat and cold, wouldn’t it?"

"They also tried smothering it in C02," Jo said. "Apparently it doesn’t need oxygen." She paused. "Speaking of C02, how are the levels in your cockpit?"

Hunter tapped the gauges that measured this sort of thing and shook his head. This, he decided, was a stupid reaction. The crew couldn’t see his head gesture and it started his headache up again. "I can’t tell," he said. "The gauges aren’t functioning." He took a tentative breath. "The air’s pretty smoky, though," he added. "Smells like fried insulation."

"Wonderful. Any more happy news?" Mack inquired.

"The gunk is leaking in," Hunter said obligingly.

Mack’s reply was not printable.

"Have you tried sonics?" Hunter asked.

"Yep," Mack said: "Sonics, ultrasonics, subsonics..."

"Okaaaay, so what haven’t you tried?"

Jo sighed. "We’re out of ideas, Lieutenant," she said.

"That’s why we decided to disrupt your beauty sleep," Mack added. "We were hoping that you’d have some really clever idea."

"I suppose asking nicely is out of the question," Hunter sighed.

"It doesn’t seem to have a central nervous system, Lieutenant," Slate’s calm voice broke in.

Hunter was surprised at how much better he felt just hearing her. "So, no chance of opening up any meaningful dialogue?" Hunter remembered the time when Slate actually had been able to talk the "monster" into releasing him. Of course, the "monster" had actually been a bunch of Slate’s creations, and they hadn’t really been bad. They’d just been... jealous.

"I’m afraid not," Slate said regretfully. "How are you holding up?" she added.

"Oh, I’ve been in worse jams," Hunter said mildly. He paused, then added. "Can’t think of any offhand, but there must have been something."

There was a long pause.

"I have a strange sense of humor, Doc," Hunter added. "Get used to it."

"I’ve noticed," Slate responded with a touch of irony. "It’s just that you’ve given me an idea."

"Oh, good. What'd I say?"

"It’s this negotiation business," Slate said. "So far, all our efforts have been directed at destroying the monster, or forcing it to release Big Guy. Maybe we need to try a gentler approach."

"You just said it was too stupid to negotiate with," Mack said.

"That doesn’t mean it can’t be coaxed," Garth jumped into the conversation here.

"How?" Jo asked.

"All living organisms have basic needs," Slate said. "And I’d be willing to bet that this creature is looking for food."

"So, what do big blobs of jelly eat?" Hunter asked.

"Peanut butter?" Mack suggested.

Hunter could almost hear icy glares converging on Mack’s head. Or maybe it was just some icy bits of blob dripping down his neck.

"Mack...." growled Jo.

"Hey, just trying to live down to the Lieutenant’s example," Mack protested.

"It’s passed over quite a bit of plant life in its travels," Slate said. "Including some vegetable gardens. Apparently, it hasn’t ingested anything. This, combined with its attraction to movement, seems to suggest that this thing is carnivorous."

Hunter felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Panic blossomed in his chest and threatened to overwhelm him. He took a deep breath and yanked his emotions back under control. After a minute or two to regain control of his voice, he cleared his throat and said: "Oh, guys, did I mention that Big Guy is leaking and this stuff is getting all over me?"