-The Secrets of the Universe

Joel stepped forth from his craft; ready to face whatever perils this new and unexplored planet might bring. He walked out into an empty field, only to be bowled over by a rushing mob. In this situation of crisis, Joel had his typical reaction: cluelessness.

"Hey…" he cried as a flock of frightened schoolgirls fled past.

"Waitaminute…" he exclaimed as a group of construction workers plowed past.

"Hold on!" he attempted to communicate to a fleeing group of marines. He placed himself directly in the path of a group of nuns, determined to get an explanation of what was going on.

When he came to, Joel found himself being carried like a caught animal, tied to a pole by his wrists and ankles, and suspended between two husky-looking, slug-like animals. They were part of a large precession that seemed to be marching across a vast wasteland. Joel ached from head to toe, and was covered by wounds inflicted by high heals. Seeing he had come to, one of his captors shouted at him, "Tyamble gbbbrle yumgle ty dormph ug!"

"Well do it behind a rock," Joel replied, and was smacked for his troubles.

"Ouch, slugged by a slug," Joel smiled, provoking yet another beating.

"Hmm…" Joel muttered to himself, "There doesn’t seem to be much appreciation for puns anywhere in this universe."

The journey was long and vigorous, and Joel’s wrist’s and ankles where aching by the time they arrived at their destination. The destination, as it turned out, was an elaborate network of caves in which these slug-people lived. Joel was stashed with about twenty other prisoners in what he could only assume was a dungeon. It was difficult to tell, as the entire place looked like one big dungeon. The slugs chained Joel by the wrists to the dungeon wall and left.

As soon as they were gone, Joel surveyed his surroundings. There seemed to be a number of dead or dying prisoners here already, quite a few diabolical looking torture devices, a telephone booth, a hole that assumabley served for sanitary facilities, and a barred door. Not exactly hope-inspiring. Nevertheless, a plan began forming in Joel’s mind.

Late that night, when all the inmates where asleep, Joel, using his legs to push against the wall, pulled at his shackles with all his might. With a tremendous wrenching of metal, the chains tore loose, flinging Joel across the dungeon floor where he landed roughly, and, may I also add, very clumsily. Despite the fact that he had just succeeded where they had failed, all the prisoners laughed at Joel.

Our hero ignored the jeering inmates, and stepped into the convenient telephone booth.

Moments later, the Spider emerged in Joel’s place, leaving the prisoners a bit confused as to where Joel could have gone. The Spider walked to the barred door, and pondered it for a moment. A smile crossed his cowled face, and he pulled a penny and a slingshot from his pouch. Loading the penny into the slingshot, Spider aimed at the back of the prison guard’s head, and fired.

"GRAAH!" the guard shouted in pain and annoyance. He turned to look at his assailant, only to receive another penny in the face. Roaring, the guard tried to grab the Spider through the bars of the jail cell. The Spider merely stepped back out of the guard’s reach, and stuck out his tongue. The guard shook the bars in frustration. Then something occurred to him. Smiling slyly, the guard reached to his belt and pulled out a set of keys and jingled them tauntingly at the Spider. He was pelted with a penny for his troubles. Growling, the guard unlocked the door, and smiled at the Spider’s look of fear as he stepped through. His satisfaction did not last long, as he received a spray of silly string in his eyes, and a solid left to what loosely passed for a jaw. Leaving the guard unconscious the Spider freed his fellow prisoners, and fled captivity.

The next day, Joel straggled into town and headed straight for the local governing body.

"Yes?" an intimidating man glared stonily down at Joel who had just knocked on the door. Joel, not in the least bothered by the fellow, leaned against the frame and smiled.

"Hi, I hear you folks are having a problem with these worm-men. They tell me you’ve been at war with them for quite some time."

"Hmph," the doorman snorted, "And why do you bother me by telling me what I already know?"

"Well, I just happen to be an alien from a far distant planet, and I may be able to divine a solution for you."

"If you are an alien, then why do you look like, and speak the same language as me?" the unmoving man queried.

"It was convenient to the plot, I suppose," shrugged Joel.

"Will it be convenient to your precious plot if I slam the door in your face?" the man sneered.

"As a matter of fact, no," Joel stated, and pushed his way past the astonished doorman.

Finding the library, Joel began studying the records of the race and it’s battles with the worm race. It immediately became obvious to him that the humans relied heavily on their technology to fight the battles, whereas the slugs relied on their brute force. It was also obvious that the humans had come up against a halting point in their technology; a point beyond which they could not advance.

The problem seemed to lie in their mathematical calculations, but it was not until Joel saw a first-grade counting chart going up to the number three hundred, that he discovered the source of the problem: They had no number between 230 and 232. In a highly improbable coincidence, the race had entirely left out the number 231 from their numerical system.

Joel announced his discovery to the august assembly of governors, and was scoffed out of the town. As he took off in his ship, full of dismay, he caught a radio transmission from the humans:

"…And so I, Governor of this grand race, have discovered that we have missed a number in our numerical system." Joel didn’t catch the rest because at that moment the alien ship under the direction of Matson recaptured him.