Spider Legs (13 page)

With the new, stronger exoskeletons, baby pycnos had great difficulty periodically shedding their skeletons. To solve this problem Martha placed the naturally occurring molt-accelerating hormones on the same bacterial plasmids as the growth hormone. The elevated levels of molting hormone did the trick, and the molting and growth process occurred fairly normally. Occasionally there were mishaps: pycnos with body tissues bursting through the joints of the exoskeletons which did not shed at the proper intervals, or animals with so much exoskeleton that they looked more like spherical lumps of marble than functioning sea spiders. But such things were part of the normal course, and were routinely selected out.

There was another type of problem. The defective things were horrible, but how could they be blamed for this? They reminded her too much of herself: freakish, compared to the common mode. Surely they would be cruelly attacked by their more normal fellows, if ever put in with them. She wished she could spare them death, but she lacked the facilities to maintain her failures, even if they should prove to be capable of survival. So after considerable and pained reflection, she gently put such misfits out of their misery by overdosing them with anesthetic, with an uncharacteristic tear in her eye.

Her last step in creating the pycnogonids of monstrous proportions was to increase the pycnos’ strength so that they could move their huge bodies. To create more powerful muscles,
Martha strengthened the actin and myosin molecules which were the basis for all muscle actions in animals. As a result, the muscles were several times as strong as in normal pycnos. Naturally, these stronger muscles needed additional energy to function so Martha also increased the levels of the energy rich substances phosocreatine and the enzyme phosphocreatine kinase. Phosphocreatine supplied the energy for muscle contraction.

But before they grew to their full new size, she put the more muscly versions through their paces: stress tests, pulling objects, finally even showing them off to the girl Lisa, who was suitably appalled. Lisa had no notion of the significance of these creatures; all she knew was that spiders were horrible. She came close to freaking out more than once, and that pleased Martha. “If you ever tell anyone else about my private experiments, I'll put some in your underwear,” she said, and was gratified to see the girl almost faint. Of course it was a bluff; the little pycnos couldn't survive for long out of the water yet, and would be just as freaked out by human underwear as Lisa was at the idea of having them there. But Lisa didn't know that, and anyway, a dead water spider would frighten her almost as much as a live one.

All of her biological manipulations had initially been enhancements to the pycnogonid's natural body architecture and biochemistry—and did not actually provide any new biological features. She did, however, want to make it possible for the pycno to easily see above water without having to lift its entire body out of the ocean. To do this, she had a plan to add two new functional eyes near the end of the proboscis. The process required a few months of experimentation to solve. In the end, she simply implanted pycno eye tissue under the exoskeleton of the proboscis when it was beginning to form during its embryonic stage. The additional tissue sent out biochemicals to the surrounding tissue and began a cascade of biochemical and physical events that eventually induced the formation of retina and optic nerves beneath each new eye.

The process of biochemical induction occurred normally during the course of embryonic development. One embryonic tissue had a chemical effect on a neighbor so that the developmental course of the responding tissue was drastically changed from what it would have been in the absence of the inductor. One of the classic examples of embryonic induction was the formation of the lens of the eye as a result of the inductive action of the optic cup upon the overlying tissue.

With the pycnos, nine out of ten times, the new optic nerves were able to grow and find their way back to the creature's forward brain, where they made a functional connection. Although Martha could have extended her discoveries and technologies to the implantation of new eyes in humans, she was not very concerned with humans. She didn't like humans very much. But she loved her new pycnos.

CHAPTER 20

Lisa

E
LMO NEVER MADE
a third trip to the hospital. A hospital clerk called him with the news that his mother was dead. “We'll need your authorization for the disposition of the body,” she said with marvelous insensitivity.

“I will have to check with my sister,” he said numbly. He had known this was coming, but still found himself unprepared.

“Of course,” the clerk said disapprovingly.

He made his way to the store. He didn't know what Martha's reaction would be, but he had to tell her. She was in a general way alienated from the species of mankind, having suffered more rejection at a more formative age than he had, and the death of their mother might have the effect of cutting her the rest of the way free. Or it might not affect her at all, she being long since alienated from Mrs. Samules. But he had to have her okay to arrange for the cremation; she was after all the closest blood kin available.

He approached the store, paused, nerved himself, and entered. The young woman, Lisa, was behind the counter, talking to a customer. Elmo hung back, waiting for the store to clear before getting to his ugly business. “You will have to speak to Martha,” she was saying.

“Well, where is she?” the man demanded.

“She's out at the moment, but I expect her back in an hour.”

“I can't wait a damn hour! These are bad fish she sold me, and I want a refund now.”

Bad fish? Elmo had his differences with his sister, but one thing she would never do was sell inferior fish. This had to be a confusion. But it wasn't his business.

“I'm sorry,” Lisa said, evidently flustered. “I'm not allowed to give refunds. It's against store policy.” Her eyes flicked to the posted sign, but the man ignored the signal. “They have to be handled by Martha herself,” Lisa continued somewhat doggedly. “If you can just come back in an hour—”

“No! These are bad fish, and I want my money back now.”

Lisa blinked. Elmo was surprised to see that she was evidently near tears. She was young, and innocent, and didn't know how to handle obnoxiousness. She had also suffered a recent bereavement. So he stepped forward, knowing that he would probably regret it. “Perhaps I can help,” he said.

The man whirled on him. “Who the hell are you?”

“Elmo Samules, a fishery officer for Trinity Bay.”

The customer didn't seem to pick up on the name, perhaps because Martha Samules seldom used any but her first name. “You got a refund?”

“No, but I do know something about fish.” He looked at the plastic container the man held. “When did you buy those?”

“Two days ago. And now they're dead.”

“You left them in that container throughout?”

“Yeah. Got to take them on the ferry south tomorrow. But not any more. They must have been diseased.”

“No. They died from oxygen deprivation. You should have put them immediately into an aerated aquarium. Didn't Martha tell you that?”

“Of course I know fish need oxygen to survive. I opened the container every four hours. And no, Martha didn't say a thing about the fish being in a sealed container.”

“She did!” Lisa interjected. “I remember. And anyway, opening the container once every four hours is far too seldom.”

“Well, when I get
home,
she said. But I'm not home yet. I live in New York. So I kept them here.”

Elmo shook his head. “Sir, you killed those fish. No sense waiting for Martha; she won't give you any refund. In fact, I'd advise you to be far away when she learns of this. Those are valuable fish.”

“I'll say! I paid a mint for them! And I want it back. Now.”

“You are out of luck,” Elmo said firmly. “You should not be buying fish until you learn something about them.”

“What I learned is that this is a gyp joint!” the man said, getting red in the face. He turned back to Lisa. “Now listen, you little bitch—”

Elmo reached up, gripped the man's shoulder with thumb and fingers, and squeezed. “There is no call for that kind of language. Please leave now.”

“Listen, buster, you can't—” But the man broke off as Elmo increased the pressure of his grip. It was becoming apparent that there was a lot of power in that hand. Then he dropped the container, turned, and stalked out. Elmo let him go.

Lisa was already rushing to the fish container. It was stoutly constructed, and had not burst. She picked it up as if it were a baby. “Thank you, sir,” she said gratefully. Then her eyes brightened with recognition as she stood, hugging the container. “Haven't we met?”

“Yes. I was just leaving the store the other day when you arrived. You smiled at me.” Understatement of the decade! She had conquered him with that devastatingly innocent expression.

“Oh, yes, now I remember.” She squinted. “But apart from that, you look familiar, somehow.”

Elmo smiled, carefully, not parting his lips. “I should. I am Martha's brother Elmo. I have the same oddities of form she does.” He held up one hand, opening it and spreading the fingers to show their unusual configuration.

“Oh, the name! Samules. I didn't make the connection.” Now she smiled radiantly, as she had before. He could have sworn the whole store brightened in that moment. “I'm Lisa James. You saved me some real trouble, I think. I didn't know what to do.”

“Glad to do it for a lovely damsel,” he said, hoping this would come off as clever praise rather than oafish exaggeration.

She flushed, evidently taking it the right way. “I—I have to take this to the back room. If you can wait a moment.”

“Gladly, Lisa.” It was an unexpected pleasure to be talking with her like this. Sheer luck, but he would take any luck he had.

She carried the container to the back room. She returned in a moment, brushing back her long reddish hair with one hand. She was a breathtakingly lovely creature whom Martha probably demeaned. Martha did tend to resent pretty people. But of course Martha resented
all
people. “I really appreciate how you helped me,” she said. “Now what can I do for you?”

Oh. She assumed he had come here for a reason, naturally enough. As indeed he had. He would have liked to ask her for a date, but knew better. She surely saw him as a grim older man, as he was. “I came to see Martha.”

“She's not in. She—”

“I heard.”

“Could I take a message for her?”

“I don't know if this is a suitable message. There has been a death in the family.”

Lisa's face clouded. “Oh, I know how that is.”

“You do?” he asked before he thought. Of course she did; he had known that all along.

“My brother Garth—I mean his wife Kalinda—the monster got her. She was a really nice person. She made my brother very happy.”

The right woman could do that for a man, he was sure. A woman like Lisa? “You're Garth James’ sister? I saw him in the hospital.” It was easier not to try to explain how deeply involved in that whole business he had been.

“Yes. He—he's delirious. But what happened—it's so horrible.”

Elmo wished he could put his arm around her trembling shoulders, to comfort her. But he couldn't. “I don't believe he is delirious. He's speaking the truth. There's a giant sea spider out there. Something unknown to science. It's my job to find that thing and kill it before it wreaks any more havoc.”

“Oh, I hope you do, Mr. Samules! It's so awful.”

“We're going to ride the ferry to where the thing struck, the day after tomorrow. We're organizing a party. We need to know more about it. Exactly what it is, where it ranges, and what is likely to stop it.”

“Why not just shoot it, Mr. Samules?”

He hesitated, then gambled. “Call me Elmo, if you wish. After all, I didn't call you Miss James.”

She smiled hesitantly. “All right, Mr.—Elmo.”

Score one for the home team! “But as to why we won't just shoot it,” he continued. “We might kill it, and it might sink out of reach, and we would never know exactly what it was. That would be a loss to science. And there might be others of its kind. We must try to immobilize it. To capture it, if that's possible. We need to come to understand it well enough to deal with any number of its species, if the occasion requires it. That's the only truly practical course.”

“Oh, I see,” Lisa said, her face lighting with comprehension. “Yes, of course you're right. I hope you do catch it.”

Another notion occurred to him. “Perhaps you would like to join us on the ferry, when we make our search. You certainly have a personal interest in this matter.”

“Oh, I do! But won't it be dangerous?”

“Yes, it may be, if we locate the creature. Of course it's more likely that we won't see anything, and it will be wasted effort. We may have to try it a number of times before we connect, if we do connect. It's likely to be a cold, nervous vigil. I shouldn't have mentioned it.”

“Oh, I'm interested,” she protested. “I just don't want to get in your way. I wouldn't be any help at all in a crisis, I know it. And I wouldn't know any of the people.”

Was fate tempting him to overreach himself, and lose everything? He had to play it out and see. “You would know
me,
Lisa. And perhaps others we hope to have along, like Nathan Smallwood—” But she looked blank. “And Natalie Sheppard.”

She brightened. “The policewoman! Yes. She's nice. But if anything happened, I'd probably just scream and grab on to the nearest person. I'm not very brave.”

“I assure you that I would not mind having you grab on to me, Lisa. Not that you would want to.” He held up his splayed fingers again, reminding her of his ugliness.

She looked at the fingers, visibly set back. “Do you also—the teeth—?”

“Yes,” he said, not showing them. “But in other respects Martha and I are not at all alike. I don't have anything against ordinary people.”

“That's nice,” she said uncertainly. It was clear that she was somewhat in awe of him, and not in a wholly complimentary sense. Then she decided. “But I think I would like to go. My brother—” She clouded up again.

“I understand.” It was time to leave, before he messed up this phenomenal chance. “I think I will leave my message for Martha. It is that our mother has died, and we must approve her cremation so the hospital can release the body.”

“Oh. Yes. I'll tell her. She should be in soon.” She looked up, meeting his gaze for a moment. “I'm sorry. For your mother.”

“Thank you. I'm sorry for your brother and his wife. But I think he'll make it.”

“Thank you.” She tried to smile again, but didn't succeed. Her effort was touching, however.

Elmo turned resolutely and left the store. He did not want Lisa to suspect how interested he was in her, lest he turn her completely off. Probably it could come to nothing, but he would
spin out the dream as long as he could. The death of his mother, the discovery of Lisa—they did offset each other, in their peculiar fashion, and that helped stabilize him.

It was a dark cloud, he thought, that lacked a silver lining. This cloud was exceedingly dark, but the lining was very pretty.