“Are you sure we’re supposed to be doing this, doc? I mean, do you have all your papers in order?” asked Aron, adjusting the straps of his flame thrower.
“Now now, Mr. Smith, would I bring you here if I didn't have my paperwork ready?” said Emily, peering down the dimly lit hall with her flashlight. "There's nothing to worry about."
“That's what you said before," Aron said and lit up the flame with a silver lighter. "That little mission got me in heaps of trouble. Nearly lost my license. Now you show up in the middle of the night, basically drag me out of bed to this abandoned biosphere. This wouldn't have anything to do with that egg sample you took last time, would it?”
“This is a completely different project, Mr. Smith. As you likely know, the laboratory houses many specimens of artificial spiders, and unfortunately one of them has gone missing. I used these pheromones to draw it to this building. Now, I would like your expertise to exterminate it.”
"Don't you want it alive to study it?"
"It's a dangerous specimen. It must be destroyed."
"Martian or...?"
"Yes."
Aron grunted. It was one thing to deal with imported terrestrial spiders, but Martian ones were a whole other level. Vicious and smart.
He led the way forward, illuminating the hallway with the flickering flame on the tip of his thrower. The biosphere used to house old agricultural labs. All the overgrown vegetation gave him the creepy vibes.
Only the soft sound of their shuffling footsteps could be heard, but then a clattering noise broke the silence, echoing down the narrow hallway.
“No need to worry about anything, my good man,” Emily said patting Aron on the shoulder. “You can handle this specimen the same way you handled the last one," she whispered. "With resolute boldness. Just look at that flame, Mr. Smith. So much fire power waiting to be unleashed."
"Yes," Aron murmured straightening up, the flame glittering in his eyes. This mad doc had a way of winding him up.
When they reached a split in the hallway, Aron said, “perhaps this is a good time to use your spider perfume.”
Emily shook her head. “It’s not working anymore.”
“How can it not? You said it was an in-stinc-tual...”
“Instinctual response.”
“Well then? It'll smell the perfume and follow its biology, no?" he said.
“Instinctual behavior is not necessarily biologically determined,” she said. “Nor is learning just a consequence of the environment. There is an intricate interplay."
“Surely, instinct is more biological than environmental," Aron said. "Just like learning is more a product of experience than genetics.”
“Wrong again, Mr. Smith. Understandable. Most people make this mistake. Look at it this way. Would you say that a cake is made up of thirty percent recipe and seventy percent ingredients? Of course not. The comparison is silly. They are two different entities and one cannot exist without the other. I believe the great Richard Dawkins said that or something like it. So, yes, the spider- a male- reacts instinctively to the pheromones in this bottle. This is why I was able to attract him here, but now he's not responding because he has habituated the scent.”
“What’s that?”
“The scent does not lead to a copulatory reward, so he has learned from the experience and modified his instinctual response.”
Engrossed in their discussion, they failed to notice the shadow crawling along the ceiling towards them.
When she saw it out of the corner of her eye, Emily screamed and shouted, “behind you!”
Aron turned around and released a panicked stream of flames down the hall.
“On the ceiling!” shouted Emily, stumbling backwards and falling on the floor.
Too late, the spider jumped over the flames and landed over Emily, pinning her down with a burst of sticky web filaments. The creature stood above her scanning her with his eyes.
She saw her reflection on the visual cells.
Clicking his mandibles, then rearing on hind legs, he lifted his sternum to expose two glassy plates underneath. She recognized them as the stridulatory organs. Instead of hissing, however, the organs vibrated and emitted the most remarkable sound.
...he has learned from the experience and modified his instinctual response.
The sound of her own voice.
"Move out of the way!" shouted Aron, and just as he fanned out another burst of flames, the spider clambered up the walls and disappeared down the dark corridor.
“Are you okay, doc?” He said rushing up to Emily and helping her to her feet.
“I am," she said adjusting her helmet. "Thank you. What about you?”
“I’m well, and itching to go after that critter. Let's go!”
As he was about to leave, she put her hand on his arm.
“Not so fast," she said, holding him firmly. "I have another plan, but I need some time to work on it.”
Aron was about to say something, but she cut him off.
“Please go home, Mr. Smith, and get some rest. We have a long night tomorrow. I shall be in touch once I finalize my plans.”
Before he could object any further, she turned and left him shaking his head with flame thrower in hand.
Truth be told, she did not have another plan. She simply didn’t want the specimen destroyed. Not after what she had just witnessed.
Emily instructed her craft to take her home. It rose smoothly and glided across the thin Martian air with a gentle hum. On the red horizon, the first light of dawn was beginning to break over the barren hills.
Images generated by @litguru using Stable Diffusion software
Related tales
A Signal