The Fungus

He dangled from the ceiling of the cave where it was split by the fissure. He was held in a network of glistening white strands that reminded Sheena of thick spaghetti or macaroni. Several of them had formed tight loops around his body. Others appeared to be growing into it.

He was almost unrecognizable. He was grotesquely bloated as if he’d been pumped up with air. His thin face had gone perfectly round and his fingers were like bunches of white carrots.

“Jesus, what are those things?” gasped Geoff, moving closer. “What happened to him?”

Sheena looked up and saw that the “spaghetti” extended down from the ends of the beech tree roots. “Don’t go near him,” she warned Geoff.

“Shit, we can’t leave him hanging there like that. I’m going to cut him down.” He walked up to Horace’s suspended body and raised the axe.

“Geoff!” she yelled.

But it was too late. The white strands, which had been perfectly motionless, suddenly sprang into life as Geoff neared them. Before he could react a white loop had appeared round his hand holding the axe. He tried to jerk free but other loops snared his left arm.

“Sheena, help me!”

But she could only stand there and watch as the white strands wrapped themselves around him in increasing numbers, their loops constricting his limbs.

She didn’t know it but she was watching a mutated form of arthrobotrys oligospora in action. One of the carnivorous fungi, it had been previously restricted to microscopic size in the soil where it fed on small worms called nematodes. It trapped the worms within the ringed snares strung along its adhesive network of hyphae and then used a penetration knob to enter their bodies, pump toxin into them, and spread out a cluster of special feeding hyphae that grew out along the length of the worms’ bodies. These hyphae would liquefy the worms’ tissues and absorb the digested food until only the skins remained.

This is what had happened to Horace Snell, and was in the process of happening to Geoffrey Henderson.

The mutated arthrobotiys oligospora penetrated his writhing body in several places with the sharp pegs on the ends of its hyphae and then began to inject a toxin to incapacitate him. As the toxin was pure ammonia Geoff’s discomfort was acute.

Sheena waited until Geoff was silent and his body had begun to swell. Then she turned and headed back toward the end cave.

Once there she stretched out on her sleeping bag and put her hands behind her head. “Peace at last,” she murmured.

9

The Belfast dock area was crawling with soldiers.

As they halted at yet another roadblock Wilson was struck by the futility of all this military activity. What did the Army hope to achieve by the show of force? What use were guns against microscopic particles of fungi being wafted ashore in the wind? Or perhaps a seabird landing on some remote stretch of coast would bring the fungus to Ireland. He guessed this display of military muscle was more for the benefit of the officers and soldiers themselves than anyone else. By strutting around and being obtuse in the way typical of all British authority they were fooling themselves into thinking they still had some control over the situation.

The discussion between the officer in charge of the roadblock and O’Connell went on and on. Finally the officer disappeared into a small hut by the side of the road. The pole remained lowered in front of their vehicle.

“What’s all this for?” Wilson asked O’Connell. “Couldn’t you have phoned ahead or something? It would be nice to go to our deaths without being held up by army red tape.”

“It’s regulations,” said O’Connell curtly. “They’re only doing their job.”

“Their job?” Wilson laughed. “I suppose they’ll still be checking each other’s passes when they’re nothing but toad-stools on legs.”

“That’s not funny,” said O’Connell.

“It wasn’t meant to be.”

It was the last of the roadblocks. Once through, the army staff car turned onto a wharf and pulled up alongside a strange-looking boat. It was about 90 feet long and had a square, chunky shape to it apart from the bow and forward cabin which were streamlined. It also seemed to sit very low in the water.

“Christ, what kind of tub is that?” exclaimed Slocock as they got out of the car. “It’ll take us forever to get to England in that thing.”

“On the contrary,” said a man in naval uniform who was coming along the gangway leading from the top deck of the vessel. “This is HMS Speedy, the Royal Navy’s first hydrofoil in nearly 40 years. As we can’t fly you to the mainland this is the next best thing.” He held out his hand. “I’m Captain Barclay. Welcome aboard.”

They all shook hands with him except for Slocock who said, “No offense, Captain, but it’s a habit I’ve picked up recently. Avoid all physical contact with someone until you know where they’ve been.”

Captain Barclay regarded him with amusement. “Probably a wise precaution where you’re going. Rather you than me, I must admit. I admire your courage. All of you.”