On another note, I should really be able to come up with original chapter titles... However, I do think this line is appropriate - you'll see why.
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"First," the not-a-mouse told him, "You need a name."
"I thought I had a name."
"You did," it agreed, "but you don't remember it now, do you?"
"Well... No." Strange that his name, of all things, eluded him, when he remembered... He thought he remembered... Well, he didn't remember all that much, really, and frightening amounts of what he did remember had to do with, strangely enough, digital watches and microwaves.
"That's because your name belonged to your life on Earth," the not-a-mouse told him wisely. "Everyone has a true name, you see, but they were written in the language of the Universe, and illiteracy in Universal has become very high lately, for government reasons. So all the planets have been forced to develop their own languages, and quite a few of them have quite a few languages per planet, and, well, it's all very confusing. But all this means that you have to have a different name on each planet, in each life, and it's vitally important that you use the right one, or dire things will happen."
"Why?"
"A rose by any other name does not smell as sickeningly putrid," the not-a-mouse quoted, leaving him sputtering and wondering if they were speaking the same language, or if there was simply something fundamentally wrong with the universe and he'd never noticed. He decided on the latter, and subsequently decided not to comment on that rather ambiguous proverb.
"So no pressure?" he asked wrily. The not-a-mouse looked confused.
"On the contrary, the air pressure is precisely the same as it was five seconds ago: to be exact, several times the pressure exerted on Earth, due to the fact that Heck is noticeably closer to the center of the planet." It cocked its head. "Or was that not what you meant? I must admit, it doesn't seem very relevant in light of our previous topic of discussion."
Maybe you have to be human - have been human? - to understand sarcasm. "Never mind," he told it. "So how am I supposed to know the right name?" he asked, hoping for a simpler answer. When it came, it was decidely simpler, but rather unappealing.
"You swallow this slug," he was informed, and a large neon-orange slug was produced from mid-air. "It's the companion to the Babel Fish, and very newly developed - we don't have a name for it yet, but it's common knowledge that when swallowed, it will stick in your throat and alter the words you speak into the language used by whoever you're speaking too. You'll also have a Babel Fish, which will allow you to understand everything you hear, but the slug is especially useful when dealing with primitive planets who may not yet have Babel fish." A small, yellowish fish appeared beside the slug.
"Now, if you'll just swallow that slug," the not-a-mouse urged, seeing that he hadn't, "and stick the Babel Fish in your ear, you can pick a name that seems right to you, and it will automatically be altered when you speak it so that it seems right to everyone else you might be speaking to."
Swallow the... slug... Oh, what the Heck, he decided, and popped it into his mouth. Incongruously enough, its slime tasted like chicken. The Babel Fish was equally unpleasant, he observed, as it slithered wetly into his ear. But finally both species were settled. He looked expectantly at the not-a-mouse.
"It really isn't worse that the billions of bacteria that live inside you," the not-a-mouse told him, presumably trying to be comforting. "Now, if you'll just say your name... Random syllables work best," it added, at his blank look.
He wasn't feeling very creative, so the last suggestion was appreciated. "Riariysu," he decided, after a moment. And then: "What did that sound like to you?"
"Riariysu," the not-a-mouse told him promptly. "Of course, your Babel Fish is translating, so what you said and what I heard and what I said and you heard probably aren't anything alike at all, but that doesn't matter."
"Hmm." He gave it a speculative look. "I think I'm going to call you Dym."
"Excuse me?"
"Dym. It's easier than 'not-a-mouse'."
"My name," the not-a-mouse told him coldly, "is not 'not-a-mouse', but Ierdymenshunelbeinghuiznottamowse, as you know perfectly well."
"Wonderful. But," he went on, feeling proud of this bit of logic, "it really doesn't matter what I call you, Dym, because my slug is translating what I say into whatever you're supposed to be hearing. If you're hearing 'Dym', maybe you are 'Dym'."
The not-a - Dym huffed. It cleared its throat and huffed again - even more huffily, if anything.
Riariysu smiled.
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A/N: Very short chapter, that - my apologies!
*hands large, blue towels to Fireblade and Nerina Dragonstongue* Compliments of the Guide. ^_^
Nerina - Dym's a hyper-intelligent pan-dimensional being who is not a mouse - didn't he tell you? ~_^
Let's see... All who review will receive a neon orange translation slug - very handy on your travels to some of the slightly less civilized planets, i.e., Earth, where people are still inconsiderate enough not to speak your language. Also, if anyone comes up with a name for said slug, you'll receive... well, something nice, once I think of it.