Conversation · Insulindian Phasmid

No. You are the miracle.

It was you. Coming from the west. From the Whirling. You were coming...

How?

The moral of our encounter is: I am a relatively median lifeform, while you are extreme, all-engulfing madness. A volatile simian nervous system, ominously new to the planet.

What exactly are you?

I am an unknown species of the order Phantasmodea -- endemic to the Insulindian isola. For the last three hundred and fifty years I have hidden in plain sight, masquerading as the reeds. Moulding, cloning myself, unfolding at night to play with trash bins and buoys.

It may have unknown, dangerous biochemical characteristics that help it maintain its camouflage.

I went unnoticed by the first settlers and the land surveyors of the suzerain. Also by the soldiers of the Revolution and the officials of the occupation. Even the Semenese islanders who came here first, but did not stay, have not seen me.

And the 4,000-year-old Seraseolitic civilization buried so deep in the sediment that you do not even know it is there -- they too did not see me.

I have stayed hidden through four forms of government and two scientific revolutions. Until I was accidentally discovered by a detective of the Citizens Militia in Revachol, district of Martinaise, March, '51.

Where does this come from? All this? Around us? The world?

Not even the birds know that. Not even the water lilies.

Then all we can do is beat our fists against it? Day after day. With no answer.

You can also eat it. If it's a leaf you can put it in your mouth. Yum yum. Or a reed.

Wait, so...

So you look like a reed, and you eat reeds?

Yes. They don't mind.

Have you accidentally eaten another reed-phasmid?

Yes. I once cloned myself and ate the little ones. It was winter and I woke up at the wrong time. It was an accident.

Too sensitive of a matter.

Yes, of course. The three metres tall stick insect would be offended.

We need to know. Perhaps it's sent to us by a god?

I think we should eat it. If it's a leaf you can put it in your mouth. Or a reed. Yum yum.

Nothing. Its simple eyes give off no flicker of light, no one is home. The twitches of its limbs are insect-like, unknowable, perhaps without substance even.

I want to know your mind.

There is no mind to speak of. And if there is, it's beyond your imagination -- too simple to be compatible with yours. Segmented mouthparts foam, it tilts its head.

Suddenly -- another flash of pain. Worse than the one before. The taste of blood in your mouth. The insect tastes it too, twitching suddenly...

Another flash of pain. Again you swallow it, but this time, some of it does not stay down. You think you taste it in your mouth. So does the insect, twitching suddenly...

In its marrow -- a combination of complex biomolecules. Hormones, amino acids, lipids.

What more is there in any of us? You think, as the sight of the insect fades and pain shoots up your right foot and into your abdomen, darkening your view... when it returns the insect twitches, feeling the blood on you...

The sight of the insect pulses with pain, as a streak of fire tries to shoot up your leg. You swallow it. Unmoved. Not now. There's blood dripping... warm. The creature must feel it too, it twitches.

It's spread too thin among its limbs, performing incomprehensible operations on the world; and you -- looking at it, mouth slightly open... You cannot even imagine what it thinks.

I want there to be more.

Mute, the insect foams from its mouthparts, tilting the plates of its fused together head. From left to right, without reason.

I want to see inside you.

It is impossible to see inside. There is only chitin, pretending to be reeds -- or polished, like stalks of marble. The occasional series of clicks, undecipherable to the human ear.

(Whisper) "Okay Kim, take the picture."

"It's good, it's good," the lieutenant whispers, holding it up. "Don't worry. We got it."

For a moment there, he was afraid you didn't get it, but he's calmer now, looking at it.

The arthropod towers above you -- just like in the picture -- oblivious to your chattering. The ventricles on its abdomen slowly expanding, vestigial wings like barely visible gossamer hanging from the inside of its slender joints.

"Okay..." With a slow ring of metal, the lieutenant slides the lens open and raises it to eye level.

There is no change in the insects motion while its being aimed by the camera. It remains fixated on you.

"In three," the lieutenant whispers, his voice is tense. "If it moves, you jump back, I'll shoot. Here we go. Three, two, one..."

The shrill flash of the camera cuts the air like the blade of a sword. The phasmid freezes in its bright light -- head turned toward the lieutenant. Hypnotized by the flash, it stands frozen before you.

The sweat on your arms feels cold as ice. As if you're frozen as well, in the shadow of this giant statue of chitinous marble.

"I got it..." You hear the lieutenant whisper, as the creature's shape develops onto photo paper in his hand: a polychrome ghost of white streaks against the reeds and the sky. And you, as a shadow before it.

Immortalized.

For all time.

Lick your finger.

It tastes like... sugar. Very faint. The arthropod towers above you, tufts of reeds pointing from limb and head alike.

Odourless, mostly comprised of water.

Carefully pet its scythe-like forearm.

The limb before you is incredibly light, like eggshell. It's much lighter than a reed. You feel a soft push could tip the creature over, its hollow exoskeleton collapsing...

Warning!

It's about to move, you can sense it!

Pull your hand away.

A sudden shiver passes the limb. Looks like the creature is awakening, wave by wave from its stupor.

Some sort of countdown process is happening. That's all you have time to think...

Run your hand up the slender limb, higher...

A small shudder passes the creature's arm. High above you its black pearl-eyes still glisten, mesmerized by the light passing its nervous system.