Dr. Slivius bumbled along toward his newest test-subject, humming a refrain that buzzed the water around his pale, eyeless face.
The appearance of hairs on a member of the herd organisms was most perturbatory, but he had no doubt he would get to the root of the problem.
He carried a flensing cane which he twirled slowly through the water as he wriggled himself along.
As befits my station, he mused, staring down at the rod-like foreleg of a previous subject. A guard, that one had been.
In addition to serving as the colony’s livestock caretaker, Slivius had been granted a special job: that of researcher. It was unheard of, in a colony of microscopic bugs that made their living raising microbes. But things were changing around the colony these days, and he was quite proud of his station.
He had achieved something great, after all. Something no other larva-kin could boast of; an evolutionary development so wondrous and unexpected that it had shot him from the lowest ranks of pit-scrubber to the vaunted halls of his glorious lord.
Slivius had a hand.
A beautiful, strange, useful appendage that had never been seen before amongst his kind; a tool that could be used to do so many interesting things which membrane-strand or spear could not.
And his lord had personally given him the task of creating more of them. Of discovering the secret of its creation, which even Slivius himself did not understand, for he had come into life with no such appendage.
He would not fail his lord, but he couldn’t deny the pleasure of power it gave him.
Even he only has pincers, he thought smugly. I’ll bet he couldn’t even—
The foreleg-cane he had been twirling so neatly in the water slipped from his grasp and settled slowly onto the ground.
The doctor’s face twisted into a grim parody of a smile.
A challenge, eh?
He gurgled out a chuckle as he shook his arm, loosening the proto-appendage and stretching it in preparation of the task to come.
A rush of nervousness suddenly overcame him then, and he opened his mouth wide to take in the water and taste if any of his fellows were about.
Nothing. Just the comforting warmth of sulfur and the distinctly animal musk of his next subject waiting for him in the room ahead, somehow different from the usual smell of the herd.
Just as he began to execute the first stage of his four-step plan to retrieve his cane, another thought came to him.
What if my new subject can see me? They had likely never seen a proto-appendage before, and would possibly react—
He stopped himself, thinking about the words he had just used.
You know what? He thought slowly. I do myself a disservice continuing to call it a mere proto-appendage. It is appended to me, is it not? Attached, and yet separate?
He paused for a moment, thinking that over. Then he nodded to himself.
By God, it is! How could I have ever used the foolish word. Pro—no! No, I shall not even think the vile, unsubstantiated word. I cast it away from me, just as I cast down my cane!
He paused again. He had cast down his cane on purpose, hadn’t he?
Dr. Slivius opened his mouth to see who was around, but didn’t taste any of his fellow larva.
Ah, the subject, of course!
Slivius had no idea what the thing’s sensory capabilities were like. He was there to examine the strange mutation on her outer membrane, which he was entirely unfamiliar with. He rubbed the fingers of his hand together, thinking. As far as he knew, the mutant creature could be watching him right now.
He chuckled. Now he remembered. He must have cast down his cane at this precise location in order to demonstrate his ability where the new subject might see.
Slivius smiled and bent forward, stretching out his appendage at the same time in a perfect display of the first step of his plan.
Usually a few of his fellow larva would at this point swarm around him and buzz excitedly, unable to form coherent words in their amazement of the feat that was taking place before them.
“I know, I know,” he would say modestly, after he’d completed the demonstration. “It’s nothing, really.” Then he would pause, lowering his voice. “You should see what I can do with a pebble.”
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
An intense concentration came over him then as he exerted his full willpower and control to enact part two. This was the tricky part.
Grasp it, he reminded himself. Grasp it, don’t clasp it.
Then he was immersed completely in his task, and the only thought that remained was a subtle pleasure in knowing his test-subject was watching his display of dreadful prowess.
He grinned in victory as his fingers closed successfully around the fallen cane.
It was good for his subjects to fear him.
***
Lucy watched the larva creature in bewilderment.
At first, she had assumed him to be her executioner, but that idea had quickly fled from her mind as she watched the strange thing amble on over towards her, stopping every few body-lengths to chortle or mutter something.
Then he’d dropped the stick he was carrying, and Lucy had actually paused her Oxidizing in startlement after the larva froze stock-still for almost a full minute, then began to huff and gurgle madly before bending over, the water around his face gushing and bubbling.
Then the face had contorted even further as the creature’s clumsy two-pronged proto-hand searched blindly for the stick it had dropped.
He looks…happy, I guess? Is that good?
On one hand, if the organism was her executioner, it was probably bad news, since he was clearly crazy and likely not to be reasoned with. But if he wasn’t her executioner, maybe she could trick him into letting her go?
Lucy resumed her Oxidizing, squeezing out every last bit of energy from the water as she could before the strange bug arrived. Fatigue rippled through her mind even as her body rejuvenated, and though she maintained a veneer of calm, the trauma and grief of her imprisonment and injury were slowly settling over every part of her. She knew her body had the energy to move and to fight if need be, but she wouldn’t exactly mind some rest either.
On the larva’s third attempt, it managed to stand back up with the stick in its hand, and as it did so it looked straight at her with a look of deranged hunger, and Lucy instinctively cut off her resumed Oxidizing to form a spike in preparation for battle.
***
Dr. Slivius held the pose, straining for all he was worth to maintain the look of refined threat on his face. It was a good look, one he had practiced and perfected. A look that said, behave yourself, now, or I’ll eat you.
Among the larva-kin, the doctor was well known for his compassionate nature. He prided himself on torturing his test-subjects for no more than was strictly necessary to ensure compliance.
Plus a little extra, he admitted, as he swept aside the partition on only the second try. But only on feeding-days. Or when they’ve been rude. Or I’m in a bad mood. Or when—
At that moment, something heavy thwacked into his face, and he crumpled to the floor of the room.
***
Lucy stood over the larva body floating just in front of her, her membrane heaving as energy flooded through her.
She took a deep breath, exchanging only water with her surroundings to settle herself from the influx of sulfur energy. Then she reversed her grip on the spike she’d used as a bludgeon and poked the strange larva with it.
A soft gurgle escaped its hideous mouth, and Lucy sighed, though in relief or regret she wasn’t sure.
Well, he’s not dead.
She didn’t know what else to think about the creature, but now wasn’t the time in any case. She needed a plan, and quick.
But first...
Mentally activation her Gene Stealer skill, Lucy expelled some of her cytoplasm and pulled inwards, creating negative pressure that allowed a trickle of the larva's ribosomes to flow into her body. She wasn't sure how long the genetic code would last without proper storage, but with any luck it would keep until she had time to check over it for useful abilities.
The first thing was just to survive. She could kill the unconscious larva easily enough, but the guards had walked her a good ways into the bug settlement, or whatever it was. And Lucy didn’t fancy her odds if she ran into Mr. Pincer-Hands again out in the open water. Or anywhere, really. Shuddering, she pushed the thought of him from her mind, forcing herself to deal with the present moment.
After a few moments, the rushing of the energy inside her calmed to a tolerable level, and she asked herself a question.
Even if I could make it all the way out, would that be the best choice for my growth?
Flush with the feeling of gaining energy for the first time in what felt like days, Lucy was free to consider all the possibilities her mind could conjure, no matter how unlikely or risky they seemed.
And, as absurd as it felt at first, her best chance for growth was to remain where she was. The sulfur here was so concentrated that she thought she had a good chance of reaching her first evolution in a matter of days or weeks, if she was left free to Oxidize.
Unless she was mistaken about the ecosystem here, that’s just what the larva wanted her to do as well. If Lucy could infiltrate the herd they kept, she’d be free to feast.
At least until they decided she was fattened up enough to eat, but by that point, she would have Evolved. Hopefully. In the short time she’d been left free to do it, she had already gained a full two Evolution Points. It took more effort, but the reward was greater.
It was a risky plan, but it was the surest way to progress if it worked. It was possible she would find somewhere else with similarly concentrated sulfur, but she suspected from the way the winged bug-man had found her that they kept close watch on their stock. And she had nearly starved to death in the tunnels before.
The only problem was that, if she was recognized, she would be killed. If she was wrong about how quickly she could Evolve, she would be no match for the dozens guards and the bug-creature.
Lucy steeled herself. She had faced death and been given a chance to live.
Might as well see how far I can go.
Full to the brim and bursting with energy, Lucy floated in the water of the small room for a few twitchy moments before her Awareness settled on the cane in front of her, and her thoughts came together.
She quickly formed an appendage and used it to pick up the cane, then winced as she ran her appendage along it. One side of the cane had been sharpened to a razor’s edge, and it was only by grasping it around the base that Lucy managed not to sever her appendage as she held it. The blade was wickedly sharp.
Lucy would normally have sighed in displeasure and dread-filled anticipation of the pain that lay before her, but crackling with energy as she was and still half-numb from the trauma of her injury, she didn’t give it a second thought.
Once her course was decided and she’d given it enough thought to know it had a reasonable chance of success, Lucy adjusted her grip on the bladed staff, and scraped it as smoothly and as gently as she could across her membrane.