A Fish Called Lou

By theidiotmachine

Waving its incomprehensibly large tail, the leviathan launched itself away from the gas giant. Gas streamed from its mouths, freezing in the hard vacuum; this formed ice crystals which sparkled as they streaked down the creature's vast flanks, giving it a golden sheen.

With a single sinuous wave, the animal flattened its fins and ejected gas from its blow holes as it propelled itself out of the solar system and into cold interstellar space.

Carter had named the leviathan Lou, not because it meant anything, but because it was easy to type. Certainly quicker than L/4xU, which had been its previous designation.

'I don't think they're really intelligent. I think they're like spider monkeys or lemurs,' said Carter, as he watched the little creatures on the screens.

Lou was mostly empty, a huge bulk riddled with methane-filled chambers; and inside those chambers an entire ecosystem existed, at the peak of which was tiny little bipeds, grey skinned wizened little creatures that reminded Carter of garden gnomes. The ship was hitched to the back of the leviathan to study these strange little beings.

'Lemur to human is about the same difference between you and me,' said Hatty, the mission AI. 'I've often wondered if you're really intelligent...'

'I have my days!', said Carter, cheerfully, refusing to be drawn in. 'But seriously; the gnomes use tools, but they don't seem to write or speak. It's so weird. What are they doing here?'

Originally, they had thought they had discovered a new sentient species; but the gnomes had ignored all attempts at dialogue. They had destroyed the first probe, shrieking and hooting; subsequent ones had been ignored. So Carter and Hatty had to make do with watching the little things going about their lives, framed by luminous fungi and the fleshy tendrils and arches of the leviathan itself.

'I think they were intelligent once. Some species that hitched a lift and never got off.' said Hatty. 'I don't think they're very interesting now.'

'You're saying they are basically lice? Like goldfish lice?'

'If the goldfish was eighty six kilometres long and lived in a star cluster just off the Perseus Arm. Yes.'

Carter laughed. 'I think you're being too cynical about us biologicals, Hatty! We're not all parasites. You know what I think they are?'

'I imagine you're going to tell me.'

'I think they're like mitochondria: they started as an irritant, but through one of those funny evolutionary truces, they became a key part of the organism.'

Hatty didn't have a face, but she still managed to look exasperated. 'But what do they do? Look at them. All they do is eat fungi, chase bugs, fight, and fart. And you can't tell about the farting because the atmosphere is pure methane. And this incredible, beautiful organism...'

'...giant space goldfish called Lou...'

'...fine, whatever, it tolerates them. I just don't get it.'

A gnome scampered past camera twelve, shrieking gleefully.

'Let's keep looking,' said Carter. 'I'm sure we'll find something.'

# # #

The leviathan's biology was unusual, to say the least: Lou, and the twenty others of its species, were the only known space-faring megafauna. Hatty had suspected that it had an organic engine of some sort, and after a few days of searching they found a biological cold fusion generator, as big as a house. Just behind that, warmed by the generator, was a vast cavity, wide enough to house a small city.

In it were thousands of gnomes, floating everywhere, pulling themselves along arm-thick silicate cables that spanned between the distant walls, like a huge, messy spider web. But at the centre...

'Look at that, Hatty. That's nuts.'

Hatty turned her attention to what Carter was watching.

'Wow. What is it?'

'I'm honestly not sure. But those little black dots crawling over it aren't bugs. They are gnomes.'

It was opalescent, shaped like an hourglass, and the size of a snub freighter. It glittered in the dim cavern.

'That's gorgeous,' said Hatty, impressed. 'Can we get closer?'

Carter brought the drone towards it, weaving round the tendrils. The gnomes ignored it as it flew between them.

'Are they... worshipping it?'

They certainly seemed to be. The gnomes would glide towards the centre of the chamber, swinging along the threads; then when they landed on the hourglass, they would genuflect for a short period, before launching themselves away, back to where they had come from.

'Well, that's something,' said Hatty. 'Animals don't have religion. Maybe I misjudged the little fellows....'

But Carter was furiously typing into the computer, running diagnostics. He pressed a button, and the view changed; now one of the bulbs was dark, and the other was swirling red. It looked even more like an hourglass than it had before. The gnomes were silhouettes, tiny wriggling blobs. He applied another filter: a blurry shape became clear. Hatty gasped.

'It's an egg!'

'That's right,' said Carter. 'That bulb is where the baby leviathan is gestating, all curled up. The other one is a food sac, like a yolk. And look at what the gnomes are doing.'

Tiny particles sank down from the surface of the bulbs, dispersing into the fluid in the egg. Every particle had come from one of the kneeling gnomes, pushed through pores on the egg's surface.

'They're feeding it,' said Hatty. 'They're actually an integral part of the leviathan. Your mitochondria analogy was better than you thought; they're like blood cells, aren't they? Two-legged, farting blood cells. The egg will hatch, some gnomes jump on its back and make it their new home; the circle of life is complete.'

Carter leaned back on his chair. 'Except for the last, most important, detail. How do leviathans mate? Let's find out!'

'All biology is gross and I don't want to know,' said Hatty, firmly. 'Now hurry up and finish your analysis; I want to go somewhere less... farty.'

Carter laughed and broke wind.

'I hate you,' said Hatty.

She refused to speak to him for the rest of the day.