Conversation · Morell, the Cryptozoologist

"There was a credible sighting here recently. A pair of teenagers described a creature that matched the Insulindian phasmid to an uncanny degree, despite not knowing what it was themselves."

"It's the first credible sighting in several decades. Admittedly, it's an unusual location for this species, but with all the sewage run-off upstream, it probably doesn't matter much anymore."

"Maybe the Insulindian phasmid has... died out?" (Proceed.)

"I have to resist the thought." He shakes his head vigorously. "Such an extraordinary creature is doubtlessly highly resilient. After all, it's generally thought to be capable of parthenogenesis."

He means asexual reproduction. The females of the species don't need to mate to produce viable eggs. This makes it easier for a species with a small population to survive.

Uhm...

"Females reproducing without males!? A travesty. A crime against passion and common sense."

"Nature does not concern herself with ethical propositions. As a scientist, my interest is strictly dispassionate."

There's nothing dispassionate about the way he talks about the insect.

"That's pretty clever!"

"Yes, the Insulindian phasmid is a very clever insect -- that's why it's so damn difficult to catch! But as a scientist, I try my best to remain dispassionate."

"This arouses no special feelings in me."

"And it shouldn't. Nature does not concern herself with ethical propositions. As a scientist, my interest is strictly dispassionate."

"The male is a deficient life form. The world would be better off if women didn't need men to reproduce."

"Got it. Parthonosis."

"Parthe-no-genesis. Meaning the females don't need males to reproduce. Makes it easier for a species to survive in adverse conditions."

"Par...the...no...genesis?"

"Yes. The females don't need males to reproduce. Makes it easier for a species to survive in adverse conditions."

"Lena said there has been a sighting of it, here in Martinaise."

"Yes, the most recent sighting was by a couple of teenagers along the coast here. That's what brought us to Martinaise specifically."

"But if no one can prove it exists, how do you know it's real?"

"How big is this phasmid?"

"I'm expecting it to be quite giant. One known species of phasmid, called the megaphasmodea zhouensis, is about the size of a grown man's forearm. So..." He leaves the conclusion up to you.

Seems puny, to be honest.

"Why are you so interested in this stick bug? It doesn't seem to be as colourful as some of the other cryptids I've heard about."

"What makes it so difficult to find?"

"Good question. Being a phasmid, of the order phantasmodea -- a ghost insect -- it disguises itself as plant-matter. In this case the reeds..." He looks around. "Awful lot of reeds around, aren't there?"

"And, I suspect it may also have developed other specialized techniques to protect itself from predators... or scientists, in our present case."

"Ghost insect... so you're ghost hunters."

"No -- that is precisely what we're not. We are zoological specialists, looking for an extant species of phasmid."

"So I checked all the traps."

"Good, okay..." He breaks his calm. "And?"

"And one of them was empty."

"Completely empty?" The cryptozoologist's eyes grow wide.

Surprise -- tempered with fear and trepidation. He doesn't know what to think yet. Maybe you're joking?

"Yes, there was nothing in the trap. No locusts, no phasmid."

"No locusts... but no phasmid either..."

"That's not ideal, but..." He rubs his chin.

"The empty trap was the one at your campsite. Maybe this factors into it somehow?"

"I definitely left that one stocked. Hmm..."

"Right from the camp site..." The old woman's face lights up. "It just means the Insulindian phasmid is even more clever than we thought!"

She's engaging in a well-known self-deception called "motivated reasoning." You should correct them.

"Of course," the detective whispers to himself. "More clever..."

You're dealing with a subject near and dear to their hearts. It might behove you to tread lightly.

"Yes! The phantasmodea picked off the locusts and escaped. This is good news! Though we'll have to reconsider the design of the traps, make them more secure..."

His companion sighs. "Another trip to the reeds..."

"Yes. That's exactly what it is. What a deft hunter, this phasmid!"

"Of course -- be sarcastic." He misinterprets your words. "Unless you have an alternative hypothesis you'd like to venture, mine stands, okay?"

"Actually, no..." His tone changes. "Excuse me for getting emotional, this is a big deal for us. You've helped us twice now -- and brought some great news, too. My gratitude, and the gratitude of the Société Cryptozoologique de Revachol, is yours."

Heartfelt gratitude -- but does it feel like closure? What really happened?

Some kind of foul play might be afoot. Theft?

"Thank you, it's an honour," he says with a straight face, then turns to you. "We should probably return to our main investigation here. This has been refreshing, but..."

...helping cryptozoologists isn't really a priority for our organization, is it? The lieutenant looks out the window, impatiently.

Dammit lieutenant, have you no intellectual curiosity?

"It's not very scientific to reason backward from a conclusion you want to be true."

"Hmph. I appreciate your concern, officer, but please leave this to the experts. Unless you have an alternative hypothesis you'd like to venture..."

You're jabbing at the soft underbelly of his psyche. He realizes he's gotten defensive.

"I don't know. I'm not persuaded."

"Why don't you try convincing Morell his hypothesis is invalid?" He scowls.

"Thank you for the vote of no-confidence, Gary. And officer, I appreciate your concern, but please leave this to the experts. Unless you have an alternative hypothesis you'd like to venture..."