Faith In The Future

Alexander-Groovy and Alexander-Curly are not happy.

Their claws will grow back, but not during the course of the experiment.

Which means never.

The experiment: Ingest microplastics in varied concentrations and die.

It had seemed so straightforward.

No mating, moans Alexander-Groovy.

He only said 'disadvantage', says Alexander-Curly.

But we're already at a huge disadvantage, says Alexander-Groovy. We're in separate bowls.

And who would we mate with? asks Alexander-Curly.

Red-Hook? says Alexander-Groovy. No way.

They both imagine pulling Alexander-Red-Hook towards them (with what?) and inserting their gonopods into her underside.

As a possibility, it doesn't stand up.

Not that she would let them.

The two crabs lose their faith in the future.

And it's about to get worse.

Terence catches up.

Look what I found!

It's a claw, one of theirs, probably.

Excellent, says Gaius. Well done, Terence. One of you crabs is in luck. The question is, which one of you is it?

Alexander-Groovy and Alexander-Curly look at the claw in question.

Me, says Alexander-Groovy.

Or me, says Alexander-Curly.

I feared as much, says Gaius. But perhaps we can come to a definitive answer. For instance, the length of the exposed tendons may give us a clue.

This is a specialised subject. We'll let Gaius pursue it.

Look!

Here comes Belle with a picnic basket, and Marie with a tupperware container, the contents of which are obscured by condensation, but they could well turn out to be roasted jacket potatoes.