Stellar Nurseries

Kafer

Cassie did not care about the cockroaches until the night she couldn't sleep. She was proud of her new apartment - the first place she could call home since she had left her family - and did her best to keep it clean. Every day she would be busy with her chores: vacuuming the floors, cleaning the work surfaces and disinfecting the nooks and crannies. Intellectually she knew that it was impossible to keep every insect, every vermin out of her home. But, so long as there were no signs of any unwelcome invaders, Cassie could ignore the possibility.

It was not until Cassie was woken one night by the sound of scritching that she was forced to confront the truth. According to the glowing numerals on her alarm clock, it was just after two in the morning. Cassie lay in the dark, semiconscious, vaguely aware of something just below the threshold of her hearing. She tried to get back to sleep, but it eluded her. Whatever it was that had woken her could not be ignored.

Cassie yawned, clambered out of her bed and padded into the apartment hallway. Her apartment was small - bedroom, bathroom and a kitchen-lounge - so she did not have to go far to find the source of the noise. Cassie listened carefully. The bathroom? No. Whatever it was did not have the characteristic echo of tiles and glass. That left the kitchen. Cassie stepped to the left and fumbled for the light switch.

At first glance, there was nothing in the kitchen. Then, attracted by the sound - louder now to Cassie's ears - she found the source: a small, black insect, skittering across the counter top. Cassie reacted instinctively, smashing her hand onto the work surface. She felt something crack under her palm, and lifted her hand. There. on the counter, was the body of a cockroach. It had been dealt a mortal blow, but its limbs were still twitching. Cassie felt a spasm of revulsion and hurried to the sink to scrub the taint of the pest from her hands. Then she yanked a piece of kitchen roll from the dispenser above the sink and returned to the dying cockroach. Carefully Cassie picked it up in the paper towel and carried it to the bin.

At the bin, Cassie paused to take one last look at the insect. it struggled in her grip, as if trying to escape, and stared at her with gleaming, silver eyes. "Goodbye," Cassie said, and squeezed the cockroach, fatally rupturing its carapace before dropping the paper towel and the dead creature into the bin.

Cassie soon put the encounter with the cockroach out of her mind. After all, it was only one of the creatures. But Cassie had forgotten that where there was one, others were likely to follow. She had been shopping, picking up groceries for the week, and had put the bags on the counter. Her back had been turned for no more than a minute; but, when she returned to put her groceries away she spotted a dozen black forms clambering over the tins and packages.

Cassie screamed and swept the cockroaches - and the groceries onto the floor! Then she grabbed a broom and flailed wildly at the insects, hoping to drive them back into whatever crevices thy had emerged from. The roaches scattered in all directions, then doubled back under her blows. For a minute or two, Cassie chased the creatures around her kitchen until they vanished under the cupboards and carpet. Exhausted, Cassie sank back against the front of the stove. It took a while for her to regain her composure.

On her hands and knees, Cassie surveyed the kitchen floor, looking for the gaps and cracks the cockroaches had used to make good their escape. For a moment she was sure that she could see lights moving under the cupboards, scurrying back and forth, but she put them out of her mind. It was obviously just her eyes playing tricks on her.

For the next week Cassie laid down poison and sprayed the edges of the kitchen-lounge with polysyllabic chemicals, hoping they would keep the cockroaches at bay. And it seemed that she had been successful as the creatures did not reappear. Cassie, satisfied that she had defeated them, ceased her efforts.