Conversation · Insulindian Phasmid

I will.

She was middle class. It doesn't take a three-metre stick insect to tell you that.

She was hell on Earth. It doesn't take a three-metre stick insect to tell you that.

She was hell on Earth. It doesn't take a three-metre stick insect to tell you that.

She was hell on Earth. It doesn't take a three-metre stick insect to tell you that.

She was hell on Earth. It doesn't take a three-metre stick insect to tell you that.

I will try.

I can't.

What woman?

You cannot lie to me. Behind you it smells of fires. So awfully far you were prepared to go in her presence. End it.

No. There are no more thoughts.

A series of chirrups surrounds you, like swallows on a cliff side, as the phasmid moves its forearms -- tymbals visible on the inside of its white stalks...

Of all the creatures I've met you are the most beautiful.

Of all the creatures I've met you are the kindest.

Are you poisonous?

Yes. I do not have a startle display, so I use a neurodegenerative allomone to aid in camouflage. Do not worry, it is only destructive over long periods of time.

The Deserter, he's been here for a long time.

I am a detective.

So am I. I was born to detect sucrose rewards and semiochemicals. What were you born to detect?

Also that.

I can also detect pheromones -- the ones on you tell me that you will not eat me. And that I will benefit from your closeness. In short, I love you.

The killer.

He is in a bad state, deteriorating fast now. He thinks I am beneficial to him, but I am not. I only quicken his deterioration.

You're destroying him?

Very slowly -- and only because he won't go away. It is meant to keep them from noticing me, to interfere with the pictures in their heads. But he has looked at me too long. And I'm destroying him.

I was born to detect you.

Yes. No one detected me for such a long, long time. For thousands of years. I dithered, out of sight. Draped myself in greenery.

This is my masterpiece.

No one believed I exist -- almost no one. Until you came, detective. Dripping of blood that smells like strawberries. Across the calm sea, the first in a thousand years.

No. This is just an accident.

No. No one believed I exist -- almost no one. Until you came, detective. Dripping of blood that smells like strawberries. Across the calm sea, the first in a thousand years.

I exist too.

Tell me what it's like for you.

It's wunderbar.

Yes, holy is the lord of hosts. And all the Earth is filled with his glory.

Now I will tell you what it's like for me. For me it is a series of half-lit images. A kind of darkness, being intruded upon. Transient. Dim. Moist.

Fire, burning.

Fire? Where?

In the city, all around. It's going down.

I am oblivious to the city. It is only on my margins. A ball I sometimes spin. A toy, Or the cylinder of a discarded trash bin.

Inside.

I do not have fire inside me. In me there is not even blood, but lymph -- like sap from a wine palm.

On the horizon. Pale fire. This thing we're both sensing is coming to an end.

That is your problem. Nothing ever ends for me. There is only room for two, maybe three pictures in my mind.

For me it is a series of half-lit images. A kind of darkness, being intruded upon. Transient. Dim. Moist.

So what if the next picture doesn't come? This creature is not the photographer, just the camera.

I'm ill.

What is your illness?

I'm ill in my head. I'm insane. That's how it is for me.

I am not. There isn't even a central nervous system in my head. Only mouthparts for eating wetland plants.

Now I will tell you how it is for me. For me it is a series of half-lit images. A kind of darkness, being intruded upon. Transient. Dim. Moist.

My body aches. I'm bleeding.

I smelled it, as soon as you stepped on the island -- strawberries. Fresh burst of red strawberries. Ripe turning riper. Soon you will be rotten.

In my heart. For me it's sadness -- input after input.

For me it is not like that. I have states, not emotions. For example, I experience excitement at unexpected sugar rewards, but that is not important.

If I tell you, what will happen?

Then I will tell you what it's like for me.

Was there an ancient Seraseolitic civilization?

Yes -- with stone tools and silk. They too missed me, although I had not developed the mutation needed for parthenogenesis yet, and scoured the neolithic hinterland as distinct individuals, not clones.

Are you the miracle?