Minutes to Burn

Diego stepped around the larva, pointing at the bushes. A thin path had been cleared; the larva had literally eaten its way through the dense underbrush. "Hay Maria Santisima," Diego said. "Its consumption is extraordinary."

"What the fuck is it?" Derek asked, his voice wavering. He rocked a little on his feet.

Diego leaned forward again, mumbling as if to himself. "An arthro-pod of some sort, probably an insect. Eruciform larva, a caterpillar, maybe. Distinct head, aristate antennae, three pairs of true legs off the thorax, multi-segmented abdomen." He reached out a hand but drew it back quickly when the larva's head turned to track its motion. "! Cono la puta madre!"

Cameron could not tear her eyes from the thing's head. The wide saucers of the eyes connoted an innocence and gentleness she had seen before only in mammals. The cooing sound issued from the larva again, a soft click moving beneath the surface of the sound.

"Impossible," Diego said. "Insects have no lungs, no vocal cords. They only make stridulating noises, from rubbing their legs or wings together. It must be pushing air through its cuticle, or scraping its seg-ments together. It must be… " He stared at the larva's open mouth, the sturdy stocks of the mandibles.

"It's soothing," Derek said. "The noise."

"It has holes in its sides," Cameron said, pointing to the oblong spiracle openings, one on each side of each abdominal segment. "Maybe the air's coming through those."

She yanked a thorn tree up by its roots, protecting her hand with her shirt. Holding the bottom toward the larva, she shook it before its face. The larva's head moved slightly side to side as it eyed the dangling roots. Its segments seemed to contract and then spring, launching its head toward the thorn tree. It got its mouth around the base of the thin trunk and began munching. Cameron watched in amazement, the larva pulling its front segments up off the ground as it ate its way up the stalk toward her hands. She released the tree before the larva got too close. It finished the trunk on the ground, then looked at her again.

"Is it dangerous?" Cameron asked. "It looks kind of…I don't know…"

"Personable?" Diego offered.

"Something like that."

Diego reached out a hand and touched its terminal segment. "I don't know. I've never seen anything like it. But it doesn't have stingers, claws, or spines, and there's no warning coloration. Its mandibles are strong, but that's common in larvae. It has glands posterior to its labial mouth-parts, probably to expel silk for a pupation chamber. It appears to be herbivorous, but it might be an opportunistic carnivore. The size is alarming, but I'd guess it's not danger-"

The larva turned its head in response to his hand, and he pulled his arm quickly back out of reach.

"Convincing, Doc," Derek said. "Real convincing."

"Will it metamorphose?" Cameron asked.

"I would guess so," Diego replied. "It is distinctly larval. Maybe a large butterfly, or…"

"A tree monster?" Cameron finished. They all watched the larva for a few moments. "Do you think there are others?" she asked.

Diego shrugged, nodded, shook his head. "I have no idea. I've just never…I've never. I suppose there could be just this one, but I have to believe that it's a species of sorts, that it has a… that there are others. But we can't take a chance…if we never see it again, it could be…could be tragic…an opportunity like this…" He slid his lip to one side, chewing it.

"What are we going to do with it?" Cameron asked.

Diego rose from his crouch and scratched his head, his elbow pointing out like a flag. "I don't want to move it, but if we leave it, we could easily lose track of it. And even though we haven't seen any, there could still be feral dogs roaming the island. It could get killed. We need to make sure we at least have an opportunity to examine it. We could return it afterward, right where we found it." He looked at them sheepishly, as if waiting to be contradicted.

Finally, Cameron glanced over at Derek. "Do you think it'll fit in your bag?"

The others' faces reflected Cameron's thoughts. Tank, Rex, Tucker, Sav-age, and Szabla sat on the logs near the fire pit, flabbergasted. The larva crawled on the soft grass to the side of Derek's tent, and Diego stood over it, guiding it back toward the circle of logs. Derek stood, ghost-white and gaunt, staring into the dark stretch of the forest to the north.

"You gotta be shittin' me," Savage said.

Tucker cleared his throat loudly, bringing up a mouthful of phlegm. "There's no way."

Tank stood up, then sat back down. "Fuck," he said.

"What the…I don't…What is…I'm a…" Szabla stopped, evidently realizing she wasn't making any headway. She was deeply flushed.

"Kinda cute, ain't it?" Cameron asked.