Hubbard declared, “When we open that nest tomorrow, we are going to find the mutation of a whole group of insects—an evolutionary change that has welded together a community. We are going to see, in effect, yes, a brain—but not a system like ours. No, this brain will be using individual insects as its arms, legs, eyes . . .

“I can visualize this brain made of millions of ‘nerve roaches,’ in actual physical and chemical contact, the way our own individual brain cells are. The anatomy of this ‘colony brain’ would be similar to the neurons and dendrites of our higher nervous systems. In their multitude of numbers, they could even begin to approximate the cortical richness of higher animals. And they might well be using all the kinds of chemicals our own brains use to carry nerve messages from one cell to another across the synapses.

“I don’t mean to be too technical, but I want you to realize this possibility is very real and not at all farfetched.”

Amos Tarbell breathed, “Maybe not to you . . .”

“Obviously, the ‘brain cells’ of this roach colony would be primitive, but there could be much more ‘intelligence’ than we might otherwise expect—with the central brain telling the specialized cockroaches what to do in much the way my brain tells my hand to move and my head to turn, and so on.”

Stephen Scott demanded testily, “You say this has happened before in biology?”

“In parallel ways, many times. Let me remind you of what you learned in high school biology, or can see in the natural history museums. After the Protozoa, which lived as isolated single cells, there began to be clusters called Phyto­mastigophores, and Rhizopodea, and the Ciliata.

“The sponges, Hydrozea, are similar, showing first steps toward a differentiation of functions.

“Another step up the ladder brought even clearer specialization, in the Mesozoa. In this stage, a single layer of cells became surrounded by units whose sole function was reproduction.”

Hubbard paused. His listeners were not bored or put off by the Latin names. Their eyes were bright and their ears open, because he was talking about their own lives, not book texts. The scientist saw their eyes on him, and he understood that they did not want him to talk down to them.

“Going on, then, a two-­layer organism evolved, called Cnidaria. The reason for such banding together is obvious in terms of survival. When they bind together, cells have greater protection against the environment. They find food more easily. They fend off enemies.