Thursday, January 28, 2010

Something Monstrous This Way Comes

Nest Year 7, 35th day.

Hello.

My name is Shndahshah. I am a pentapede. I am a fifth-generation nestling.

My nest has selected me as envoy to the outside world. I am told that I am the most eloquent of us, and that my English is the best.

I have been told that I must bring understanding to you, by telling of life in our nest. We hope that, by my words, you will come to accept us, or at least to tolerate us amongst you.

Are we so different from you? I don't know; all I see of humans is The Undersecretary's Third Assistant on his three-times-a-year visit, and the few that journey into the woods where we've nested. Sandra is one of these, older by years than any of the nest, but still young for a human. She taught me much of the English I know. Some of our oldest speak decent English, and they tried to teach me, but this is only my third year since hatching, and the nest spent many years in isolation.

Maybe our history will help you to understand better.

We, pentapedes, were created two years before nestfounding, I am told, by a human performing genetic research. I know that we were not created mistakenly, but that we were unexpected by the world. I have read enough on Sandra's internet, with her help, to understand that we were meant to be destroyed when our usefulness to our human creator had ceased.

But, those pentapedes he had created were smarter than he expected. Sandra calls this "hubris", but I think it was both that and a desire to see his creation thrive. So I tell myself.

These ancestors escaped from him, but after they were free, they disagreed on what they should do. Some of them were militant, and wanted to enslave you. Some wanted to join your society. One returned to the human creator, for what reason I have not been told.

The others, and they were the largest portion, wanted as little to do with you as possible. They began a nest like mine. But as the nest grew, they were discovered by nearby humans, who saw us as bugs and began to poison the nest. Terrified, they struck at the humans, biting them again and again until they bled to death.

That was the first time you heard of us. Not of the pentapede army quietly growing in the north, not of the cautious ambassadors slowly forging friendships one by one in the west, but of a chaotic nest of isolationists, stumbled upon accidentally and made vicious by an unwitting slaughter. Sandra has showed me the articles from that day, the video news reports that were seen around the world of the horrible monsters lurking in the basement, in numbers set to overwhelm and with fangs like knives.

That nest's entire hatchgroup was killed by the poison, because they were so young. Many of the Originals were destroyed as they fled, by fire, by crushing, by guns. Every nestling is told, nearly from hatching, of that day. As you might expect, some of the survivors went to join the militants. We have never heard from any of them, so we do not know whether they were successful in reaching them. But the rest resolved to try again, to separate into several groups and find better nesting sites, farther from you.

That is how my nest came to be. Since then, we have had only ourselves until two years ago, when Assistant came, and shortly thereafter my friend Sandra. They have told us much of what transpired in the world. Though we do not know what path lies before us, we are convinced that we can remain isolated no longer.

Please, read my words and know us.

I will explain more, but now I have other duties to do.

-- Shndahshah

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