Even before the helicopter had landed, George Sydney, the telekinetic I had asked them to bring, had jumped out of the chopper and landed before me. What a show-off. My morbid scarf twitched at this movement, as if he had never seen an SNI, which he probably hadn't. George was a tall, scrawny kinda guy, with a large pair of glasses hiding his all-too intelligent, currently squinting bright-blue eyes. His hair was blond and dirty, and his lips were curved into a frown.

"Why is it always me who has to deal with these kinds o-, what the fuck?" he snapped at me, or atleast tried to. He must be near-blind, considering how long it took him to notice my friend here. Aaron. What a name. "I see you've noticed my friend, George," I snapped back. "Would you like to give him a formal introduction, or should I?" I said. He glared at me, seemingly rather unhappy about something. Very well. "Aaron, this is George Sydney, a telekinetic with a sense of humour. George, this is Aaron Doe, an arm who needs your help to get back home to his mama," I jeered.

"Haha, very funny. Should I shake his hand, too?" he said, laughing that peculiar little laugh I could only describe as if the wind had gotten chopped up and stuffed into a turkey. Put the turkey in the oven for ten minutes at 400 degrees, and here we are. "You can shake it, but you have to ask for permission first," I said.

"No, there's no need," another voice said. George must have jumped a decimeter off the ground. We're lucky he didnt bring down a tree or two, as he tends to do. "Don't scare him Aaron, we don't want the whole place evacuated because George got a spook," I told the arm hanging off my neck. "Really?" "Really." "Hey, don't talk about me af if I'm some walking disaster!" "Aren't you?" "Grrr..." "Now, now, calm it. We are both here on formal business."

"See, this arm here, Aaron, is an SNC, as you can see." "Hi." "Yes, hi. Now, the thing is, this isn't all of him. He's underground." "Like a plant?""I think I'm more of a fungus." "As he said, he is more of a fungus than a plant." "I love mushrooms. Fry 'em in oil and put them on meat, it's the best." "Please don't eat me." "Restrain yourself. Now, we need to take his whole net of mucelium and just lift it up, you hear me? You did bring the glass cage, right?" "Yeah, sure, its right-,"

A large glass cube hits the ground, a little cloud of dust and leaves rising.

"-there. So, where is this mycelium thing?" he asked, looking around a bit. "As a metter of fact, George, we are currently standing on it," I replied. "We a-, whoahwohaowhoayoustopthat," George said right as a bunch of tiny little threads escaped the earth and captured his boot. "Aaron, I would personally suggest not to spook this guy," I warned Aaron. "Right, sorry," Aaron replied, the little white tentacles releasing the boot and retrackting into the ground once more.

"So, uh, um, I've just gotta pick the whole thing up, right?" "Yup, pretty much." "Be gentle, will you?" "Uh, sure, Aaron. I'll try."

George waved a bit at us and we took a few steps back until he didn't wave anymore. He slowly got down to the ground and felt it with his hand. He closed his eyes and sat crouched on the ground for a few moments. Eventually, he rose.

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"This is really big," he said seriously whilst took off his thick glasses. Or, well, "he" didn't. Paul Wilkes did. Did I meantion he has a couple of personalities in that big brain of his? A faint smile surfaced on Pauls lips and he took a few steps back. "You should probably take a few more steps, Sir." he said. He always calls me Sir, which I don't personally like, but when he's the one speaking, you really shouldn't question it. And so, I took a few steps back, muttering "how big are you, really?" to the arm hanging loosly beside me. He seemed nervous, as he didn't answer.

Paul looked at the ground before him before taking a wide stance, his arms tensing and relaxing, moving a bit here and there before finding the right position. Eventually, me made two really big, sweeping movements with his arms, to which Aaron exclaimed a pained cry. "What did you do, Paul?" I asked him. It wasn't too wise to bother him, but any damage to Aaron is damage to his trust in us, which we must keep pristine. "I had to sever a few roots in order to get it in a single piece. Please relax and have faith in me," he said before making a few flashy movements. The leaves before us started to move, and with a large movement, all of the leaves which were previously there all flew into eachother, becoming one large ball of leaves. This ball quickly flew into the now landed chopper, where it remained.

Now, after all the preparations had been done, it was time to extract the whole system. Aaron was staring wildly as the ground started to tremble and move. A deep groove appeared on the surface, like a large maw. This maw soon opened, exposing a large, brain like web of thin, white strings. Aaron was transfixed. This large brain started moving, as if trying to escape from the maws, which it did.

With a violent force, the humoungous thing, surely at least as big as the chopper itself, flew into the air, where it hung uncerimoniously. It is always a pleasure to see him do his work. The glass container, which had previously just been sitting next the chopper, flew into the air. It had a lid, techincally, but considering how co-operative Aaron has been, being more of a SNI than a SNC, I think it would do well to skip it this time. On the subject of Aaron, he wasn't currently doing too much. I guess he just hadn't known how big he was? Because this really is big. The largest of fungi can become several kubic kilometers in size, so I guess this isnt that big as far as that is concerned, but what about his potential? Anyhow.

The bulging mass of dirt and mycelium was quickly dumped into the container, but something must have happened, as Aaron screamed out in agony. "Some of the roots may have snapped due to the shape of the conatiner, should I mend them together, Sir?" Paul asked robotically. "No, I would rather you didn't," I answered almost just as robotially. Aaron was squirming in pain, and I would have loved to help him, but there was really nothing I could do.

Paul quickly reattached the chains between the container and the chopper. He quickly hopped inside, gesturing for us to come along. I went around the gaping hole in the ground and sat down in the back of the chopper. Paul took on his pair of glasses again, siting down by the controls of the chopper. As soon as his hands touched the controls, however, his face was lit up by surprise and confusion. He turned here and there, looking to the left and right, finally furrowing his brow and looking back at me and Aaron. "Nice to have you back, George," I said happily. See, Paul always knows what George was doing, but George never knows what Paul did. If I was any interested in psychology, I would love to have him as a patient. But I'm not, so I'll let him live his life.

George turned back to his panels and controlls silently, sighing almost inaudiably.

The chopper started silently, and off we were. Back to Home Base.