Warren Fahy - Fragment

Between the hind legs there appear to be sexual organs…both a penislike structure and what may be a vaginal opening.”

“Hermaphrodites?” Nell said.

“If so, there goes the arthropod theory,” Otto said. “No arthropods are hermaphroditic-”

“Right,” Quentin interrupted. “But many phyla of animals have at least a few groups that are hermaphrodites. Worms and snails, for example.”

“Barnacles are hermaphrodites,” Andy said. “They’re arthropods.”

“Barnacles are arthropods?” Otto asked.

“Yep.”

“Damn. That’s weird.”

“How do we know how long this ecosystem’s been isolated?” Nell intervened. “It’s at least theoretically possible that it’s had a very long time to evolve. I would say it’s probable, given what we are looking at, guys. I mean, come on.”

“Is this island radioactive?” Andy asked.

“Nope.” Quentin shook his head. “These aren’t just mutants.”

“Something like this must have diverged a long time ago, then,” Otto agreed. “Hell, that’s a given. But not from arthropods.”

“Well, how the hell else do you explain it, then, Otto?” Quentin was scowling again. “You think this thing came from Mars?”

“I don’t know where this thing came from, Quentin!” Otto retorted sharply. “And neither do you right now, OK?”

“Let’s take a look at the internal organs,” Nell interposed gently.

“OK.” Otto looked back up at the screen and lowered his shaking scalpel. “I’m starting the incision from the central orifice and cutting back toward the specimen’s tail.”

“God, I hope it’s dead,” Andy said.

“Stop saying that!” Otto snapped as he sliced through the thin but tough skin and laid open the animal’s belly.

“Hey!” someone shouted.

Everyone jumped and glared at the technician, who was pointing to the bubble window at the end of the lab.

But all they could see was the edge of the forest.

“Sorry! I could swear I just saw something looking at us out there. Big as a man, hanging right on that tree there. Fuck, it must have been a reflection or something. It had lots of arms and it looked like it was spying on us. Sorry. But I swear! It was there. Really.”

“Christ, Todd!” Quentin groaned. “Lay off the caffeine, OK?”

“I said I was sorry! But, Jesus, I saw it plain as day and never took my eyes off it and then it was just gone , man.”

Otto sighed and turned back to his work. “OK. Continuing the incision, there is an outer sheath or integument that is translucent grayish white, tinged blue. Making an incision through this sheath…it seems to be made of micro-hydrostatic tubes that release clear liquid when severed. Under this are distinct muscle bands running to various points throughout the body… they are especially dense at the bases of the appendages. And look at this here…we’ve got branching tracheal tubes extending into all the muscles.” He cleared his throat. “And each of them does connect with the integument.”

“It’s just like the gas exchange system of insects and spiders,” Andy intoned.

Otto nodded. “And, yes… there is a spiracle on the outer body surface for each trachea. The fur must have covered them.”

“Wow, so those trachea deliver the oxygen directly to the muscles from the outside,” Andy said. “If they’re that extensive it may be what allows such big animals to be so active.”

“Look how the spiracles line the sides of the body in neat rows.” Quentin pointed at the close-up on the screen over the specimen chamber. “And those rows extend right up along the legs…”

“Providing oxygen directly to the muscles.” Andy finished his sentence.

Otto cleared his throat again. “And, OK-immediately underneath the layers of muscles and tracheae are two green glands, each with a bladder that is light gray in color-”

“Looks like it has a urethra,” Andy said, thankful to see something familiar.

“Yes. These glands appear to empty at the joint at the base of the legs.” Otto attached retractors to hold open the incision. He suctioned some pooling, syrupy blood.

“Coxal glands, just like king crabs,” Andy sang.

“Spiders have coxal glands, too,” Quentin chimed.

“OK,” Otto said, irritated. “I’m now cutting anteriad from the central orifice. I’m exposing the rest of a wide, thin bone ring or cylinder that has an aperture in the ventral side. The spiked foreleglike appendages are attached to socketlike shoulders in each side of this bony structure.”

“Looks like a segment of a lobster tail.”

“But internal?” Otto scoffed. “An internal exoskeleton? It doesn’t make sense…”

“Does anything here make sense?” Nell said. “We’re segmented creatures, too, Otto, just a few steps removed from arthropods. Do we make sense?”

“It’s a lot of steps.” Otto shook his head stubbornly. “How could it molt?”

“Maybe the old shell dissolves or is absorbed internally as the new one hardens,” Nell suggested. “Surgeons use dissolving sutures that melt internally. Maybe they have a similar solution.”

“A lot of marine crustaceans eat their own shed shells to reuse the minerals,” Andy concurred.

“All right, noted,” Otto said. But he still didn’t sound as if he agreed with them. “Continuing the incision down the belly from the mantislike arms and the forelegs. OK, there’s a lot of fluid here! Suctioning that away…we see a series of six branching stomachs filled with what appear to be freshly eaten pieces of prey. Each stomach is segmented by a kind of bony grinding mechanism, like a bird’s gizzard-”

“Or a crustacean’s gastric mill,” Andy said.

“-which must masticate the food into finer consistency as it is passed along. Each of these stomachs is connected to a glandular mass-”

“That looks like a crustacean hepatopancreas,” said Andy.

“-and each also is connected to its own short intestine,” finished Otto.

“If any one of its digestive tracts is damaged it could shut it down and use the other five.” Nell had stopped sketching and was staring in fascination at the creature.

“Yeah, it would seem so.” Otto nodded, skeptically.

“All of the intestines empty into what appears to be a cloaca,” Quentin murmured.

“Crustaceans don’t have cloacae,” Otto said.

“Yeah,” Andy agreed. “Technically.”

“And look, the urethra from each kidney empties into the cloaca, too. And what’s that mass that looks like angel hair pasta there?” Quentin said.

“It looks like Malpighian tubules like insects and spiders have. Look how they all connect to the same region of the cloaca,” said Andy.

“That’s impossible, crustaceans don’t have Malpighian tubules,” said Quentin.

“Exactly,” Otto said.

“Both of you have to start thinking outside your comfort zone,” Nell said as she filled in a sketch. “These creatures would have had to have diverged from other crustaceans hundreds of millions of years ago, remember.”

Otto shook his head and continued. “OK, the cloaca appears to extend through a hole in the bony ring and discharge waste through the anus in the middle of the ventral side of the body. Upon cutting open the cloaca, it appears to contain solid white waste, which we will collect momentarily for analysis.”

“It must crap in mid-leap when the tail is extended back, or else things would get pretty messy.” Andy grinned.

“Maybe it uses the muscular contraction of leaping to expel the waste,” Quentin said. “Projectile crap.”

“Looks like uric acid crystals.” Otto probed the material with his scalpel. “Bird poop.”