Close To The Ground

Woman: Creative Commons: Holger Wirth
Spider: Creative Commons

Sophia was a good reporter. Or she wanted to be. Someday. Now, of course, she was just a Journalism student on an internship with a local newspaper. Now that was a blast from the past. Really! What news organisation still printed on paper? She knew she'd get a much better report from her mentors (and a pretty good chance at a position after graduation) if she actually did something impressive. She began to follow up rumours of various kinds, hoping that there was something to them. Most, of course, led nowhere save to urban legends. One seemed a bit more than the usual.

It seemed (at least according to sources she'd managed to track down) the reclusive owner of a breeding park for endangered animals was into something a bit more interesting than just saving critters from extinction. The rumour, if it could be believed, was that he could change people into monsters. He was supposed to own a small private island in the Caribbean or maybe it was the South Pacific or maybe the Indian Ocean. The victims of his experiments ended up on the island where they disappeared except as part of the huge number of missing persons in the cold case files of the police. Now Sophia knew that such things were sort of possible. After all, genetically modified creatures were commonplace these days but they were supposed to be the result of genetic changes to the embryo not modification to an adult. This, if it were real, would be something far beyond simple commercial genetic engineering. She tried the usual channels but the interview stopped at the boring areas of the facility. Sure, recreating extinct species was interesting and much lauded in this diversity impoverished world, but it wasn't what she was after. Her tour ended in the main facility and didn't get so much as a whiff of something scandalous.

This, of course, left her no choice. She'd have to break in. A friend of hers was into drones as a hobby. He had her strap a small video feed to one of his units and overfly the facility. She recognised everything save one building, hidden in a dense growth of trees. They almost missed it except for a shiny surface that reflected the setting sun just enough to reveal the building.

A few days later, garbed in a dark catsuit, Sophia made her way into the secret area at the back of the research facility. She soon found herself in a robot patrolled zone. Half expecting to be picked up and ejected (or perhaps charged with trespass and turned over to the local police), she was immensely surprised when she made it all the way to the building. So great was her surprise, though, that she let her guard down and was surprised by one of the security robots. Standard security protocols allowed the use of stunning weaponry and Sophia found herself darted and soon dreaming on the green lawn in front of the building.

She awoke, hours later, in what, at first, looked like some kind of hotel room with a huge glass wall. She tried to peer out through it but it was clearly one-way glass. Nothing was visible through it's dense surface. Shrugging her shoulders, she wandered throughout the room. It was somewhat plain (even Spartan) holding only a bed room (in an alcove off to one side), a small table with a slot in the wall (food maybe?) and a small desk with simple edutainment console. Turning it on, she tried to send eMail and very quickly discovered that the stupid beast was only able to access some old movies and even older video games. It either was not connected to the World Internet or it had been blocked by security. Either way, it was useless. She wandered over to the door and found it securely locked. This was not a surprise. Likely this was some kind of holding cell and she'd be stuck in it until the Police arrived.

Dinner appeared hours later. Though she welcomed the meal (she'd skipped her last meal getting ready for this failed escapade), she wondered where the Police were. Surely they weren't so busy as to take hours to get to an important research facility. It didn't occur to Sophia that they wouldn't even call the Police. After nearly five hours of stupid non-interactive movies, the console clock indicated it was near midnight. She felt tired and decided she was stuck here for the night. Why hadn't she been turned over to the Police? What was taking so long? Rather than waiting, she decided to make use of the bed and be fresh for whenever they did show up.

The next morning, though, the only thing that arrived was breakfast. She washed up first, of course, in a small bathroom she discovered. Then she turned on the console again, hoping that she'd be able to get a message out somehow. Nothing had changed from the previous evening and all that was available last night was all that was available now. She was starting to get annoyed and maybe a bit fearful. She pounded on the glass, shouting to get someone's attention. For several long minutes, there was no response and then the background electronic hum changed slightly.

"Well, Miss," a voice boomed over the intercom. "I guess you've found what you were looking for."

"Looking for?" she responded. It wouldn't do to admit to anything.

"Of course. Do you know how many journalists far more expert than yourself have tried to get in here?"

"Here?" she responded innocently.

"Here," the voice responded flatly. "Unfortunately, none managed to get by my security. In fact, only one has ever made it conscious into the inside of this building."

"Inside?"

"This is one of the primary research areas. A place where very special research is performed. Special services for very wealthy people, too. By breaking in here, or attempting to at any rate, you've just volunteered for the next experiment."

"Experiment?" Sophia was becoming frightened. If even half the rumours were true ...

"Indeed so. You wanted to find out what we did here? You will. By taking part in the experiment," the intercom clicked off, leaving Sophia sitting, open-mouthed at the small desk.

Sophia began a more thorough search of the console, the walls, everything she could think of. She had to get out of this room. She didn't want to be a monster and disappear onto some island somewhere. But, hours later, she collapsed to her bed and cried. There was nothing. She was well and truly trapped.

She fell asleep, still sobbing and awoke to a strange itch from her waist down. Her skin was changing colour, becoming darker down her legs and becoming a dark brown on her feet. It felt strange, hard, not at all like her skin. She wonderingly let her hands move from her own skin to the hard skin that had replaced it. She could find no apparent transition. Silky smooth at her waist gave way to hard and not-so-smooth down her legs.

"What are you doing to me?" She screamed at the silent walls. They didn't answer.

Over the rest of the day, she began to notice other slow changes. Her hips were becoming longer and somewhat wider. Rows of strange bumps were appearing on her belly at her hips. She touched them and was shocked to find that she could feel herself touching them. The brown skin darkened until only a very narrow transition was left from the hard dark brown to her own skin at her waist. By the time evening rolled around, she was thoroughly sick of the horrid old movies and games and very worried by what was happening to her body. The strange bumps were now longer and her legs had been pushed apart by a huge bulbous growth from the back of her pelvis. She wondered whether she dared go to sleep for fear of what else would change overnight. In the end, her body betrayed her and she slept balled up at the foot of the bed. The click of breakfast awoke her but Sophia was far more interested in what had changed than in eating. The huge bulb of last night now completely covered her hips. She couldn't even tell where her hips had been. Her legs, too, were changing. They were considerably smaller and, as any kind of exertion quickly showed, were a lot weaker than they'd been before this ordeal had started. The strange bumps were much longer now and even had the beginnings of what might be some kind of joint. Joints like those of an insect or spider or scorpion or something else equally disgusting.

She played with her food, not really interested in eating it until her hunger began strong enough to demand her attention. Finally, with disgust, she ate the breakfast. The console's clock told her it was just about noon and time for lunch. But she simply wasn't hungry. Angry, frightened, worried ... definitely. Hungry? Not hardly. Lunch, though, arrived half an hour later and Sophia ate what she could. She'd have to keep her strength up. Maybe she could catch one of her tormentors if they ever came in to check on her. They hadn't so far but that didn't mean they wouldn't. She picked at her food all afternoon while she continually touched the changed portions of her body. The strange bumps (or maybe she should start thinking of them as legs?) continued to grow and soon sported two joints. Bug joints. God she hated bugs. Her tail or abdomen or whatever the damned thing was, continued it's slow growth and she slowly lost feeling in her legs.

She fell asleep shortly after supper in the chair in front of the console. Awaking five hours later with a stiff back and no feeling at all in her legs, she did a quick assessment. The bug legs were longer and sported another joint each. Not surprisingly, her own legs had shrunk. Emaciated and weak, they looked like those on someone who'd been starving for months. She wasn't at all surprised when they failed to hold her up and she found herself flat on her stomach on the floor.

"Damn!!!" she shouted at the wall. She couldn't have been more surprised by what happened next.

"You'll have to get used to using the Tegenaria legs, you know. Yours have been used up growing them."

"Tegenaria? What the hell is a ..."

"It's a Funnel-Web Spider"

"Shit! A spider? Why a spider?"

"Next in the genetic evolutionary tree. First attempt at mammal-arachnid genetic cross-combination."

"Said what?"

"You're a drider."

"A what?"

"Old Dungeons and Dragons term. Half person, half spider."

"I hate bugs."

"Not a bug. That's something totally different. A spider. Funnel-web spider," the voice responded pedantically.

"You change me back," she demanded but once again the intercom clicked off.

"Damned spider. They're making me into a spider. Why a spider?"

To that, she had no answer and the intercom provided none. She began to slowly pull herself along the floor with the eight (of course there were eight) legs. She found that they slowly gained strength as her own legs weakened. For many hours, though, she was unable to do anything more than drag herself along the floor. It was humiliating and disgusting and she'd dearly love to get her hands around the throat of whoever was doing this to her. Of course, that didn't happen. The whole process of dragging a strangely distorted body along the ground with unfamiliar legs left her exhausted and she just barely had the strength to pull herself into bed. She didn't dream or at least didn't remember any dreams.

The next morning, her first act was to take an inventory of the changes overnight. Not surprising, her own legs, now completely covered in hard brown chitin were tiny, little more than 40 cm long. The eight spider legs, though, had become huge! They were considerably stronger than they'd been the previous day and she was somewhat pleased that she could lift herself and the great mass of her chitinous abdomen off the floor when she walked. She was still very unsteady but managed, by lunch, to become reasonably comfortably using the legs as they continued their slow growth. By evening, she was sure they'd stopped growing as they developed tiny claws on their ends.

The next morning brought no further changes. Sophia concluded she was finished. They'd be in to collect her soon. She'd have to be ready. She wondered whether she had poison. Some spiders did, she knew. She checked the console but, unconnected as it was to the Internet, it could tell her nothing. About halfway through the morning she made another discovery. She could make silk. Silk. Now wasn't that a wonder. Silk had been well out of her budget as an intern but now she could make as much of the stuff as she wanted. At first, it was just one more disgusting discovery but then she had an idea.

She began to spin a web of sorts near the door. They'd have to come in there. So they'd get all stuck up in the web. Then she'd have them. She hid back in the bedroom and waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, three hours later she noticed a strange smell in the air. She began to feel dizzy and more than a little bit sleepy. That wasn't fair, she protested mentally. But it did her little good. She watched as a single man and some kind of robot transport pushed their way through her web and loaded her up. The man reached over and attached a golden bracelet to her arm. She spent the next few moments struggling to see what was written on it. She almost missed his announcement that she'd make a wonderful addition to the fauna on the island. She twisted her arm about slowly, the gas left her drowsy and quite clumsy. Finally she managed a look at the writing on the bracelet:

Subject: XTD-295

Species: H. Sapiens Tegenaria

TF Date: 2095-07-05

Then, her curiosity at rest, she fell asleep until she was unloaded on the island to join all the other previous volunteers.