Conversation · Insulindian Phasmid

"What now..." the old man behind you repeats suddenly. He's put his hand into the ash -- it's dirty and black.

In some kind of strange, semi-catatonic state.

"Our suspect is not looking so good. We need to check on him."

"Our suspect is not looking so good. We need to check on him -- also..." He points to the reeds.

"It looks like the insect had some kind of nest there, look... Maybe it has left some proof..."

In the reeds, where the phasmid was hiding, you see a little flash of white -- porcelain white.

"It's gone..." Cuno stares to the north. "Between those reeds there. Fucking hell it can..."

"It can walk on water."

"Like a water spider, or like -- one of those water walkers..." He's lost for words, just pants from excitement. "This cop shit is insane"

"What now?" [Leave.]

"What now..." the old man behind you says suddenly. He's put his hand into the ash -- it's dirty and black.

In some kind of strange, semi-catatonic state.

"Yeah, grandpa's not looking so good. We need to check on him..."

"Yo, our suspect's not looking so good. We need to check on him -- also," he points to the reeds.

"It looks like the phasmid had some kind of nest there -- look. Like a hoard, man..."

In the reeds, where he's pointing, you see a flash of white -- porcelain white.

"What's that, in the water?"

"The fuck..." He squints. "Is that ceramic? And more stuff -- like a nest in the reeds. We should peep it... fucking hell..."

Forget about it. It walked on water!

Yes, it's light enough to do that. Keep your eyes on the prize, it looks like material for some kind of nest there. You should search it.

What is that?

Looks like material for some kind of nest. You should search it.

Nothing but you, a detective of the RCM, standing there with your mouth agape.

Nothing but you, a detective of the RCM, standing there with your mouth agape.

As you back off the phasmid also takes a step back into the reeds. Something tells you -- the next time you engage and disengage it will probably flee.

The arthropod follows you with its antennae. As you back off, the cracks and hisses of the tape that's come to its end grow more distant...

Something stirs in the insect as you begin to back off. It seems to also takes a step back... Something tells you -- the next time you engage and disengage it will probably flee.

Raise your hand slowly.

The insect stops its stridulation, seeming to observe you. Below its crown of reeds, little pin-prick eyes detect motion, glittering. The world stands still around you.

Suddenly there is silence.

No. Stop. Be afraid.

Put your hand down.

The invertebrate comes back to life, stridulating. Sets of complex eyes follow you, moving in tandem, on either side of the insect's small head.

Raise the other hand too.

As you do, the invertebrate comes to life, its limbs moving independent of each other. As if each has a mind of its own. They are white like stalks of porcelain, knitting above you.

Praying to you.

Put your hands down instead.

Sets of complex eyes follow you --droplets of dew on either side of the head.

(Whisper.) "That's right. Pray."

Unwittingly the insect continues its stridulations. As it moves, tuft-like structures still pretending to be plants rustle along on its joints.

Perhaps it is preparing to eat its god?

"Don't pray to me. I'm nothing."

The reed-creature does not stop its stridulations -- it towers above you, parting the reeds it emerged from. Tuft like structures still rustle on its joints.

Shifting around in the reeds around it, in the muddy water... you notice some of its hind legs apparently standing on the water from time to time. It's that light...

And... is that a glimmer in the water, below it? Like plastic? Could it be hoarding something?

Not now...

Of course, no time. The insect towers above you, parting the reeds it emerged from.

"Cuno... there's something there."

"A nest?" The whisper is anxious. "We can't get to it yet, don't scare it off. Maybe later..."

"Kim... there's something there."

"A nest?" The whisper is anxious. "Don't do anything now. Later, when it's gone maybe..."

(Look behind you.) "It's smelling me..."

"Maybe it is real, the pheromone..." The lieutenant's mouth is agape.

About now he is ready to believe in anything.

"This is so sick. It likes you..." The kid's mouth is agape.

The creature appears to have forgiven your nerves -- for now. There it still stands, a thin ghost on stilt-like legs. Antennae hang from its head, like curled strands of human hair.

Approach carefully.

Slowly, with your breath held, you take two small steps toward the phasmid. The creature lets out a series of ultrasonic clicks that swarm around your head like swallows...

Like laughter. A sort of happiness.

Sweat drips from your brow, soaking your chest... you reek of it, your chemicals.