Dawnlight Gleams on a Droplet of Poison

The scorpions danced at the gates of Tuad'hi, as they danced every morning when the Tail rose with the sun. Black and shining, it hovered overhead, poised to strike at the city's heart.

"It is a matter of great curiosity among your people, Professor," said Lufhal, tugging at his sand-mask, "whether the tail is a creature or a part of the land, a foe or a friend. But we who live in its shadow know better than to ask."

Professor Clarke swallowed and told himself his dry throat was due to heat. The scorpions clacked their pincers and danced on.

Bigger and Brighter

"Watch," he told me. He flicked the switch on the black light and aimed it out at the yard.

"Oh, wow," I said. "They're like horrible little stars." Dozens of scorpions, previously invisible in the night, gleamed white-blue in the nearly invisible ultraviolet radiation. They ranged in size from fingertip-length to the size of my hand. "Why are some brighter than others?"

"They get more reflective over time," he said. "Every molting, they come out bigger and brighter."

I started to answer when something rustled overhead and a brilliant white glow threw our shadows into stark relief on the ground...