Chapter Text
Upon waking from a troublesome dream, Gregor Samsa realized there were two gigantic, hairy insect legs hanging over his head. Naturally, he screamed.
“Gregor!” The hideous legs were joined by a hideous head with a hideous set of mandibles, “Are you OK?”
“What is? Who are- wait. Leni? Oh. Oh! Oh.”
The events of the previous, insane day hit him like a policeman’s club; enough force to knock out his teeth if he had any. The creature on the mushroom bed was a bug like any other in the city: six legs, compound eyes, a shell of chitin. But once, he’d been a human being. He’d woken up in his friend’s house, an odd feeling in his head and bones that he blamed on a hangover. As he wandered the halls, the sensations strengthened, and became stranger, until he could no longer blame them on alcohol. And then he realized he was a half a centimeter tall and his skeleton was on the outside.
He’d been promised there was a way to reverse his transformation so long as he did what he was told. And he tried. Until he found out what was wanted of him. And then he was presented with an impossible choice. He’d done something that seemed so out of character for the mild mannered Gregor Samsa. And now he was here. In this place, and this body, forever. He dragged his claw over his face
“Did you have a bad dream?” Asked Leni. She was a slender purple beetle who stood on two legs, wore a red velvet hat and smoked like a chimney.
“Actually, my dream was very ordinary,” he admitted, feeling quite silly on his back, with three of his arms folded onto his chest and one on his face. He stretched it out rather coyly, “I screamed because I saw these.”
“Ah,” Leni nodded and backed away, “one gets used to waking up to that.”
Gregor rolled over, all six legs splaying on the mushroom. The fungal shelves were what Leni had for beds. It was her home that he was in- a rather modest home for such an elegant bug. Other than the beds she had a loft made of splinters and a record for a rug. Leni had sat down on the edge of the other bed, already smoking a cigarette.
“And when do the dreams of having a human body end?” asked Gregor, “The switch back to er- reality, was a bit of a kick in the shins.”
Leni chuckled, “Ask me that after another few years.”
Gregor cocked his head, “‘Another few years?’ What’s this? So wait? How long have you been a bug again?”
“Mr. Samsa,” Leni brought her face close enough- enough to make some sort of romantic gesture. But she just bapped him between the eyes with her antennae instead, “don’t you know it’s impolite to ask a woman how long she’s been a bug?”
Gregor sat, and then there was a pull, “Gah! My back,” he put one of his front legs on the place where his thorax met his abdomen, “where did that pain come from?”
“Maybe you shouldn’t sleep on your back,” Leni called over her shell. She was preparing something at her small kitchenette.
“I’m a back sleeper,” Gregor insisted.
“Not in that body you aren’t. Your wings are sensitive. Be kind to them.”
“Wait. I have wings?”
Leni’s maxillae smashed together to produce a laughing sound, “You didn’t notice yesterday?”
“Excuse me if trying to regain my human form was a distraction from exploring my anatomy,” he felt something softer than the rest of his shell, but incredibly strong, and he pulled it into his lap. It was thin, criss crossed with veins and transparent. He really did have wings.
“Does this mean I can fly?”
“Of course not. No one flies in this community.”
The wing cried out on his lap, so Gregor let it fall back into place. It would have been nice to know how to fly yesterday when he was teetering on the edge of a tower crumbling into the void. But flying probably wasn’t for a guy like him. Then again, just the other day he honestly thought that walking vertically on walls wasn’t for him, either.
He walked over the record rug over to Leni. She was dumping something from a pan into a plate, “Fried egg?”
Gregor inspected the plate, dubious. They didn’t look like eggs so much as charred, transparent berries. But Gregor’s stomach was growling something fierce. He hadn’t taken a rest or eaten the day before, and now his insect body was paying for it. He moved his mouth over the eggs, but couldn’t seem to bite into them. “Er. Something’s not right.”
“Oh. Oops. I’m an idiot,” Leni fished something out of a hole dug into the wall.
“Wha?”
She handed him a glass bottle- thankfully bug-sized. “You’re a mosquito. Of course you have a proboscis.”
“So I’m a mosquito, huh?” It wasn’t a question he had ever asked but he had an answer now whether he liked it or not. He supposed the answer mattered now. Yesterday, this had been a temporary inconvenience. Now, it was his future.
He shook his head before he could think about that more. He uncorked the bottle and swished the liquid inside before thinking about it, “Wait. What do you take me for? I won’t drink blood!”
He tried to hand it back, but Leni said, “You’re male, aren’t you? It’s nectar.”
“Male mosquitoes eat nectar?”
“They drink it. Bon appétit.”
Gregor bent his antennae, but Leni gave an encouraging nod. He sighed, and stuck his weird, long mouth into the bottle. He drew up the liquid like a straw. His body trembled a little when it reached his throat and he drank the rest. He was clearly very hungry for it.
“That was, not bad, actually? Sweet.”
“How lucky for you. Violet ground beetles are obligate carnivores. I haven’t enjoyed sweetness in-” but she stopped herself, “Nope. I won’t tell you how long.”
“Hey, at least you’re not stuck with a liquid diet for the rest of your life.”
“Touche,” she chewed her berries and they popped, spurting out some kind of thick liquid onto her plate. Gregor realized that they had to be the eggs of some invertebrate rather than a bird.
“I have a new life all of a sudden,” he observed, “I must learn so much.” So many little things he took for granted were going to be different now. Like chicken eggs. Ironically, chicken eggs were not ‘little things’ anymore. It was dizzying, like standing on the seat of a chair that was hundreds of times your height. His mind screamed to be back in his own skin, where everything was the proper size and people could hear him if he called them from across the room. That was not a possibility, however, especially now.
He sat back on the mushroom bed, suddenly sapped of energy.
“Gregor? Are you alright?”
“I missed an entire day of work,” he said slowly, “oh no!”
“I mean, you were a little preoccupied.”
“It’s not an excuse. I haven’t missed a day of work in five years, this is the thing that breaks my perfect record?!”
“Becoming a whole other species? Yeah, I think that’s kind of a big deal.”
He paced, “I’ll go in. I’ll apologize. I’ll beg for my job.”
“Good one,” Leni said, sucking the egg juice off her plate. Gregor gave her a look. “Wait, you’re serious?”
“Why not? Being a bug is not an excuse to miss an honest day’s work.”
Her wings and the shells over her wings all rattled, “Gregor, you do understand why that’s a terrible idea, right?”
“I’ll walk up to the boss. Crawl up to him. I’ll explain everything.”
“With your voice, that humans can only hear when you use a specially calibrated microphone?”
“Erm…”
“And what would you do if a mosquito appeared on the desk in front of you two days ago?”
Gregor sighed, “I’d have smashed it. But what do you suggest I do, then? Be a no-call-no-show?”
“Well. No one can hold it against you. The dead do that all the time.”
Gregor’s wings growled, “I’m not dead!”
Leni gestured vaguely to the walls beyond her little home, “To them, you are.”
Gregor wrung his tarsal claws, “Josef was worried about me. He shouldn’t worry about me.” Josef was the friend who’s house he’d woken up at. The poor man had gotten into his own sort of trouble the day before, and Gregor had been totally unable to lend assistance. And then Gregor had found out their situations were linked.
“Once he believes you’re dead, he’ll stop worrying,” Leni shrugged.
“He shouldn’t mourn me, either!” Gregor shouted.
Leni put a steadying tarsal claw on his shoulder, “I know this is hard,” she said quietly, “but being dead isn’t so awful. Sometimes, you watch people bloom. My sister and my fiance were married. They have beautiful sons, now.”
“So…basically what you’re telling me is your sister stole your life.”
“Wow, nice job ruining the moment, there, Samsa.”
“And how old are these sons, now?” Gregor asked.
“Nuh-uh. No more hints for you, you nosy bug.”
Gregor wrinkled his proboscis, “Hah. Nosy.” Leni rolled her eyes.
Gregor tapped his claws on the stairs, “I’ll just. Have to get a new job. Today.”
“Not today,” Leni argued, “you’re still adjusting.”
“Yes, today!”
“Gregor, that’s too fast.”
“I’ve been unemployed for a day. It’s much too long.”
“You have to be joking.”
He shook her claw, “Thank you for all your help.” He did a second’s long search for a coat before remembering that he didn’t have one in his size. He started for the door.
“Wait!” Leni said, “If you really want a job, I know a guy.”
***
The street had a weird atmosphere about it, even for a city of talking insects. Bugs huddled in the streets, talking in hushed voices. The crowd of people listening to the pastor was thicker than before. Quieter too, as he urged his congregation to pray for their souls. Eyes kept darting to the horizon. There was something conspicuously missing.
“How did it fall?” The whispers rose around Gregor and Leni.
“Terrorist attack. So I heard.”
“I was there when it started to crumble. I still can’t believe we all made it out.”
“The machinery’s gone. No work to be done.”
“So many people unemployed now.”
“I never even got to see it! I waited so patiently, too.”
“What kind of person could do this?”
“Someone heartless.”
“Evil.”
“Vile.”
“We must find them.”
“Imprison them.”
“Execute them!”
The conversations weren’t all the same, but they circled back to this point: Someone had done this, and they must die for it.
“I feel. Distinctly unsafe,” Gregor spoke into Leni’s elbow, where apparently she had an ear.
“Ungrateful wretches,” Leni muttered, “Tower was harming them all.” Tower, the structure that loomed above this city. The organization that had ordered Gregor to convict Josef.
“They don’t know that,” Gregor said, “for the bugs waiting, it was giving them hope.” He’d spoken to many of them. Tower was a sense of purpose. The best possible place to gain employment. And it was also the only way to regain a human shape if you lost it.
“Lies are not hope, Gregor.”
Gregor shook out his wings, “Doesn’t change the fact that they want to hunt down and kill uh,” he coughed, “the person who did it.”
“Keep your head down and keep walking.”
***
Gregor already knew Leni’s guy. He was a businessman in the city, though it was unclear what kind of business he did there. It was certainly something shady. He also ran a music club out of a gramophone in a lawyer’s office, and that’s where Leni had dragged Gregor. He was a sweat bee with green fur on his thorax, and chains draped over his neck.
“Well, I did owe this bug a favor,” the Boss mused. He was bathing in a bottle cap. Bees were regularly filling the cap with buckets of warm water.
“So I’m hired, then?” Gregor asked.
“Owed. Past tense. I returned it, remember? We’re even, now.”
“Then I guess it’s time for me to do a favor for you,” Gregor pointed out.
“Ha! I like the cut of your jib.”
“So what do you say?” Gregor leaned on the edge of the cap, “I’ll be your bouncer. I’m a big guy.”
“Bouncer!” The Boss snickered, “Good one. Hey guys, this wimpy mosquito wants to be a bouncer!”
The bees laughed, clicking their mouthparts together.
“I’m not wimpy!” Gregor objected, “Am I?” He asked Leni who was behind him. Then he realized that he was looking up at her. And that she was not considered tall among bugs.
“It’s OK, Gregor, you’re a handsome wimp,” Leni said.
“Hmph.”
The Boss had noticed that Gregor was a climber. Gregor wasn’t about to point out that that was due to necessity of the situation- not an inherent skill. He wanted him to be his mechanic. But since the gramophone wasn’t always broken, he’d also tend the bar and do other odd jobs.
“How odd will these jobs be?”
“I heard a certain bug escaped from the prison in Tower,” The Boss said.
The Boss had a point. By now, Gregor could hardly be on his high horse about the legality of anything.
***
Business was booming. The lawyer had no clients so he would let the music play for hours. From morning until night, sometimes, and the patrons came in droves. Misery sought distraction, and without Tower, the lives of the insects were thrown into turmoil. This also meant there were many more bugs who were turned away at the door. They milled around, playing tunes for each other on their own bodies.
“Something’s gotta fill that power vacuum that Tower left behind,” the Boss mused, “why not me?”
Gregor did it all. Everything a wimpy mosquito could do. His duties left the gramophone itself when the Boss realized what a convincer he was. He’d negotiate for product and talent back in Bugville. At first, he felt like a rifle was on his back every time he went there, but after a while bugs forgot to be shocked by the destruction of Tower. No one suspected him, anyway.
Being a wimpy mosquito had a benefit or two.
Whatever he did, he threw himself into the work. And yet, he found, he lacked his prior reason for it. The paper he earned was in a whole different currency, and there wasn’t a way to convert it to krones for his family. He supposed they would finally have to get jobs of their own, now that he was essentially dead. So it wasn’t about survival anymore. It was about- well, survival, but a different kind of survival.
The more he worked, the less time he had to think about his situation, and the less time he thought about his situation, the more he could stave off insanity. This didn’t stop the insanity from creeping through. He still wanted to scream every morning when he saw evidence of his body, even if he didn’t do so out loud. And watched bugs eating solid food with deep envy. And then there was the doubt that kept creeping into his mind, about whether his decision had made any difference at all. He was scared to find out.
His relationship with Leni was odd. Though she made it no secret that she found him attractive, he could not return the feelings. He tried to pay her rent but she refused it. He considered finding another place to lodge, as well. But even if they weren’t lovers, the two bugs were comfortable in each other’s presence. Perhaps it was because she, too, had been dragged involuntarily into this insect world from the human one. With anyone else, Gregor had to put on a mask of a born bug. With her, there was no mask to wear. He didn’t want to live with someone he had to lie to.
He grew to trust her enough that he explained his relationship with sexuality. She understood it, having had affairs with human and bug women herself, in her life. “So then- were Josef and you more than friends, then?”
Gregor felt his proboscis go dry.
“No wonder you elected to burn his verdict.”
“I did that because it meant it meant that we might both live, instead of him definitely dying,” Gregor pointed out, “the decision was impossible, but when I thought of it that way, it made it considerably easier.”
“I’m glad you see it that way,” Leni said, surprised.
“Not sure if I still do,” Gregor admitted, “I mean, I am dead in a sense, aren’t I?”
“You’re still breathing,” Leni shrugged, “so you’re alive here.”
“But out there…”
“Right,” Leni said, “definitely dead.”
Gregor’s wings buzzed a sad little note.
“Don’t you miss Josef?” Leni asked, “We should visit him.”
Gregor gulped. He didn’t tell Leni what he’d heard Gustav say, about the judgment being long past. What if he discovered that Josef really had been executed? That his sacrifice was for nothing?
He picked up his empty nectar bottle, “I’ll be late if I don’t leave now. Goodbye!”
***
Gregor had been a bug for a week when he got a day off. He was already agitated, wanting to fill up the hours. Leni reminded him that it was his anniversary and wanted to take him on a surprise outing. It turned out to be some person’s office, which they entered by a crack near the fireplace. Leni pointed to a newspaper on a desk in the middle of the room, “That’s where we’re going.”
“Oh great. It will only take hours to drag ourselves the entire two meters over there!”
“Hey, a hike’s good for the blood, Gregor.”
“If I’m going on a hike,” Gregor complained, “I want to see flowers and birds.”
“Over there: flowers on a vase. And a taxidermied duck on the shelf.”
“That’s certainly not what I meant.”
Through all his grumping it was nice to explore a new environment, though. Gregor got on top of the newspaper and looked around, “OK, what’s the surprise?”
“Read it, salesbug.”
MURDER TRIAL THROWN OUT, EVIDENCE POINTS TO KILLER read the headline. Gregor skittered along the words, reading them one by one. He let out a whoop by the end of the last paragraph.
“He’s free! Oh mercy, he’s free!”
“Told you it would be worth it,” Leni said.
“Oh Leni you’re a marvel,” Gregor hugged her, and Leni had to hold her cigarette aloft, “thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Gregor read on, “It says they caught the real killer attempting a copycat murder. Oh that’s great! His second victim escaped, as well. What a relief that all is! I feel a weight’s been taken off my wings.”
Those very wings pulsated with joy, and for a second, his body lifted off the table by a few centimeters. He startled, and his wings froze, and he fell back into the soft newspaper. “Huh,” he said.
“Interesting,” said Leni.
A door slammed with way too much force and the room was lit up. A man had appeared in the doorway. The bugs skittered behind an ink bottle as the man sat down. Lighting his pipe, he picked up the paper. It became a tarp between him and his uninvited guests.
“OK: Now,” Leni said.
They skittered toward their escape route, but Gregor’s compound eyes caught sight of something. A rather bad wannabe mentor had once told him that a customer’s name was their favorite word. Gregor sided with the Irish, though. They believed that names held magic powers over their owners. In any case, Gregor had seen his own, so he stopped.
It was underneath a headline that read INVESTIGATION UNDER WAY IN DISAPPEARANCE OF LOCAL MAN.
“Gregor, what is wrong with you?” Leni came skittering back. She looked where he was looking. She sighed, “OK, so you win some and you lose some,” she pulled on his foreleg, “come on.”