"Like Mig, he's adapted." I reply, and watch the bug sit there. "That's the funniest name for a bug, earwig."

The bug is motionless, except for its antenna swinging softly back and forth.

Like the earwig, Tuk doesn't move a muscle, his eyes like lasers glued to it, "The name comes from an old wives' tale that the insects crawled into people's ears, and burrowed into their brains to lay eggs..."

"Ewwww, disgusting!"

"...and are so widespread," he continues, "earwigs are found on every continent,except Antarctica..."

"Never saw one in Alaska....I never even knew they existed."

The bug still isn't moving, and professor Tuk has more to say, "Most notable is that females may actually care for their eggs. Even after they hatch as nymphs, female earwigs will watch over their offspring until their second molt."

"Motherly bugs?" If Tuk were human, I wouldn't believe him. "That's so weird."

"Observe Luki, the amphibian watches the earwig."

The toad turns and walk-hops toward the robotic hand. She takes one, two steps and stops. Another step. Then another. She straddles the fingers...and freezes. Another step. The bugs' antenna stop moving. The toad lunges. In one lightening move, the bug disappears,except for the tips of the butt pincers that stick out of her mouth.Now she's in the middle of the robotic palm!

I pull the arm slowly up into the hatch, as she stuffs the pincers in her mouth with her tiny, three toed feet. She starts to talk before I even have her on the ship.

"Fearing I am never." She says.

Twisting my arm around, I open the robotic hand, releasing her in the sink.Slowly lifting the mechanical hand above her, it's dripping...with her urine.

She stares up with round, yellow unblinking eyes. "Telling you true,I cannot help it." She says with a guttural croak. Like rhythmic waves, her voice pulses softly in my mind's ear. "Peeing happens during stress," she says, and sends me a picture. In my mindsight, it's a cat lurking above her hiding spot, under a white stone ledge. She's sitting in a little yellow puddle.

"Well done Luki, though apparently her autonomic nervous system caused herto urinate."

"She said she was stressed." I reply, and remove the glove.

"Urination is a basic reaction among vertebrates during hyper arousal." Tuk says, cocks his head, and looks at the ceiling. "No doubt she perceived the robotic arm lifting her as a threat, which activated her fight, flight or freeze response."

I'm getting a little tired of him analyzing everything. "You have to analyze everything, don't you Professor?" I sigh.

He looks straight at me and shakes his head. "It has nothing to do with like or dislike. It is how the human brain learns, and how my system processes. Based on the six steps of Bloom's taxonomy, it is the very nature of learning and critical thinking." He makes a fist and uncurls his fingers one by one, numbering. "First there's knowledge, then comprehension, followed by application, then analysis, followed by synthesis and finally evaluation."

Bloom's Taxonomy?! Must he, really? "Thanks for the lesson Prof., now grab some sandy earth, and a piece of bark or something she can hide under...here." I say, and give him the glove. "I'll get a bigger vivarium from storage. We'll put Antoadia next to the Slimendiggers so she'll have something interesting to watch."

"Yes captain," he replies, adding "the other thing is...never compromise."

***

We're in the cockpit, buckled in, almost at cruising altitude. I'm setting approximate destination coordinates when Tuk turns to me, "I have considered and processed that we need to stop in Hungary on the way to the Caucasus."

"Hungary?What for?" I ask, looking cross-eyed.

"A pig."

"What are you talking about?" I exclaim, my voice goes squeaky. "A pig wasn't part of the original plan." I resist, shaking my head. "Red Dragons only want the critically endangered and the functionally extinct.Pigs aren't either one!" I protest, and check the altimeter. Sixty three thousand feet.

Tuk clears his throat and shifts toward me in his seat. "The Mangalitsa pig was nearly extinct once. Although not endangered, their flesh is nevertheless a luxury. You are aware that for more than seventy years, human populations have been plummeting due to chemicals in the environment..."

"And what does that have to do with the pig?" He's starting to annoy me.

"...Compounds from plastics, drugs and pesticides affects humans and animals.Not only are there fewer farmers raising the breed, but the breed,like hundreds of amphibian species has problems reproducing. Red Dragons are not such discriminating traffickers. White Wolf will jump at the opportunity."

"Think so?" I ask, glancing at the compass. We're above the Atlantic,heading northeast toward Europe.

"It took four point eight seconds for my system to process the six cognitive steps.I am confident we should do this." He nods expressionless.

It took him seconds to decide this? "You're telling me that in less than five seconds you're completely sure about this?" I've agreed with everything so far, but a pig?

I can feel my eyebrows are all scrunched up. "If we have other endangereds, why do we need a pig? And what about its food?" I ask, sounding whiny.

"White Wolf will prize our exotic porcine breed. Presenting the Mangalitsa, with the other endangereds will make us even more legitimate. As for its feed, I know how to grow things. I have agricultural skills." He says with a wink.

"If you're that sure, and if it's that rare...." I sigh, giving in.This whole thing is his idea. Guess I have to...he meant it when he said 'never compromise,' which means I have to.

"Let's not forget," he raises a finger, "you meat eating humans love the taste of pork."

"I wouldn't know. I eat insects, mostly." I reply, getting defensive.

"We should find a Mangalitsa that needs saving." Tuk says.

I start to unbuckle. "You pilot. I'll learn about the breed, see what it looks like, and try to find one with my mindsight."

He answers, grinning, "The Prof is happy to pilot while you study the pig-sheep."

"Pig-sheep?" I whine, squeezing out between our seats.


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