After taking a deep breath, Peterson stood back and slowly let the air out of his lungs. "Look, if this is a plant, it should have some kind of reaction to the incubator. Why spend hours examining it under a microscope when we can find out in a few seconds by flipping this switch."

Connelly scratched the back of her head and crossed her arms again. "Sorry, you're on your own." She turned toward the door and started walking, though admittedly, not as quickly as she could have. She recognized the sound of the incubator being activated. But her determination remained solid. Her feet carried her toward the door.

Peterson spoke as the automatic doors slid open to allow Connelly exit. "Holy shit, it's working."

Connelly's mind suddenly began a hyper-speed ping pong match over staying or leaving. The match lasted a half second. She spun around and saw Peterson hunched over the incubator. He was looking at the Europhid, which was moving back and forth, swaying as though in the wind—and growing.

Connelly crouched next to Peterson. She watched in amazement as the Europhid not only continued to grow, but spread out new shoots, which became their own, new gelatinous bodies.  Within thirty seconds the single organism had grown five new specimens, each now nearing three inches tall.  Thin tendrils began squirming out, burrowing down into the ruddy, Europian soil, that Peterson had transplanted along with the Europhid.

"Self replication," Connelly said. "They're asexual."

They watched for another ten seconds as the five Europhids continued to expand. As the flesh of one of the Europhid pushed against the glass, Connelly became nervous. What if the glass broke? "Shut it off," she said.

Peterson snapped back to the here and now and switched off the machine. The light hum of the incubator ceased and the Europhid stopped moving. But something new moved beneath the surface.

Connelly focused on the motion. It looked like a snake slithering beneath the sand of a desert. She gasped as a thin red tendril, like a thick worm, emerged from the soil. It slowly explored the inside of the incubator, feeling the glass shell carefully.

With a confused mix of aversion and awe, Connelly watched in silence.

It's moving!

The Europhids can move!

Or could they? Perhaps they had mutated the Europhid by activating the plant incubator? Connelly shuddered at the thought that the human race was new to this world and had already genetically altered one of the native species, the first alien life ever encountered. She now realized that she should have stopped Peterson before he could activate the incubator. It was a foolish thing to do.

Peterson placed his hand against the glass and the tendril moved toward it. It stopped in front of his hand, hovering like an angry serpent. Peterson moved his hand to the right. It followed. To the left. It followed again.