Phantoms

when they didn’t immediately respond.
    Jenny and the others gathered around and stared at the thing in the petri dish.
    Grasshopper-worm-centipede-snail-earwig.
    “It just goes faster and faster and faster,” Lisa said.
    Spider-worm-centipede-spider-snail-spider-worm-spider-worm…
    And then even faster.
    …spiderwormspiderwormspiderwormspider…
    “It’s only half-changed into a worm before it starts changing back into a spider again,” Lisa said. “Frantic like. See? Something’s happening to it.”
    “Looks as if it’s lost control, gone crazy,” Tal said.
    “Having some sort of breakdown,” Flyte said.
    Abruptly, the composition of the small wad of amorphous tissue changed. A milky fluid seeped from it; the wad collapsed into a runny pile of lifeless mush.
    It didn’t move.
    It didn’t take on another form.
    Jenny wanted to touch it; didn’t dare.
    Sara picked up a small lab spoon, poked at the stuff in the dish.
    It still didn’t move.
    She stirred it.
    The tissue liquefied even further, but otherwise did not respond.
    “It’s dead,” Flyte said softly.
    Bryce seemed electrified by this development. He turned to Sara. “What was in the petri dish before you put the tissue sample there?”
    “Nothing.”
    “There must’ve been a residue.”
    “No.”
    “Think, damn it. Our lives depend on this.”
    “There was nothing in the dish. I took it from the sterilizer.”
    “A trace of some chemical…”
    “It was perfectly clean.”
    “Wait, wait, wait. Something in the dish must’ve reacted with the shape-changer’s tissue,” Bryce said. “Right? Isn’t that clear?”
    “And whatever was in the dish,” Tal said, “ that’ s our weapon.”
    “It’s the stuff that’ll kill the shape-changer,” Lisa said.
    “Not necessarily,” Jenny said, hating to shatter the girl’s hopes.
    “Sounds too easy,” Flyte agreed, combing his wild white hair with a trembling hand. “Let’s not leap to conclusions.”
    “Especially when there’re other possibilities,” Jenny said.
    “Such as?” Bryce asked.
    “Well… we know that the main mass of the creature can shed pieces of itself in about any form it chooses, can direct the activities of those detached parts, and can summon them back the way it summoned the part of itself that it sent to kill Gordy. But now suppose that a detached portion of the shape changer can only survive for a relatively short period of time on its own, away from the mother-body. Suppose the amorphous tissue needs a steady supply of a particular enzyme in order to maintain its cohesiveness, an enzyme that isn’t manufactured in those independently situated control cells that’re scattered throughout the tissue—”
    “—an enzyme that’s produced only by the shape-changer’s brain,” Sara said, picking up on Jenny’s train of thought.
    “Exactly,” Jenny said. “So… any detached portion would have to reintegrate itself with the main mass in order to replenish its supply of that vital enzyme, or whatever the substance may be.”
    “That’s not unlikely,” Sara said. “After all, the human brain produces enzymes and hormones without which our own bodies wouldn’t be able to survive. Why shouldn’t the shape-changer’s brain fulfill a similar function?”
    “All right,” Bryce said. “What does this discovery mean to us?”
    “If it is a discovery and not just a wrongheaded guess,” Jenny said, “then it means we could definitely destroy the entire shape-changer if we could destroy the brain. The creature wouldn’t be able to separate into several parts and crawl away and go on living in other incarnations. Without the essential brain-manufactured enzymes—or hormones or whatever—the separate parts would all eventually dissolve into lifeless mush, the way the thing in the petri dish has done.”
    Bryce sagged with disappointment. “We’re back at square one. We have to locate its brain before we have any chance of striking a death blow, but the thing’s never going to let us do that.”
    “We’re not back to square one,” Sara said. Pointing to the lifeless slime in the petri dish: “This tells us something else that’s important.”
    “What?” Bryce asked, his voice heavy with frustration. “Is it something useful, something that could save us—or is it just another item of bizarre information?”
    Sara said, “We now know the amorphous tissue exists in a delicate chemical balance that can be disrupted .”
    She let