
Why Novels About Giant Parasitic Wasps?
I can’t … won’t … tell you about the time I first encountered a parasite. I tried sharing that childhood experience once before and was told the story was far too disgusting and unnecessarily TMI. The second time came when I saw television footage of thousands of carnivorous worms inside an elephant’s trunk, using the trunk as an incubator, the white, writhing worms spilling out of the surgical incision in the pachyderm’s bloated nose, falling like clumps of spaghetti, trying to crawl to water sources where some other dimwitted large animal would drink them up. Parasites, ick, are organisms that live on or in other organisms at the host’s expense. I can remember a dead mouse at the bottom of the path leading down to the local elementary school I attended, white worms infesting and then bursting from the mouse’s gut, swimming in a small puddle hoping another animal would drink before the sun evaporated the tiny pool. I also remember the bloated dog tick a friend pulled off his Irish Setter and splattered on another’s friend’s white t-shirt. I learned there were ectoparasites like ticks, fleas, and mosquitoes that hooked onto your skin, but also endoparasites that got inside of you and drank your blood from the inside like roundworms, hookworms, pinworms, and tapeworms. Ick, ick, and double ick.
Ick was soon to become a major ‘ack’ when in the summer of 1979 I begged my dad to take me to the movie Alien, even though I was only 11. All the other kids my age had seen the film with their fathers, so why shouldn’t I be allowed to see my first rated R team? After all, I was a hardened horror afficionado who’d already seen PG-rated Jaws and every sci-fi and horror film I could cast my eyes on. Why not this hot new phenomenon Newsweek featured in its memorable “Hollywood’s Scary Summer” issue, right next to the equally hyped but not as effective as Prophecy and Dawn of the Dead?
We sat in a crowded Avon Theater in Stamford, CT, Dad and me, and the film started slowly and ominously, the screen mostly dark, the beginning of the musical score creepy. A large mining ship cruises sleepily through space until an alarm wakens the crew. The seven astronauts/space truckers learn from ship’s computers that they are legally required to investigate a distress call from a little-known planet before they return to Earth. Reluctantly, three of the crew members explore the planet, the crash site of an enormous vessel. Inside the bowels of the alien derelict are rows and rows of meter-high eggs. One cracks open and from it springs a crab-like creature that attaches itself to astronaut Thomas Kane’s face. They bring the unfortunate and unconscious Kane aboard, ignoring space quarantine. In the medical bay, the captain and science officer are unable to get the disgusting crab-like thing off so they leave Kane alone and eventually the creature detaches itself and dies.
The crew welcomes their recovering colleague back to consciousness for a meal before going back into hyper-sleep for the remaining voyage home, but during dinner Kane starts choking and spasming until a toothy reptilian creature bursts through his chest, killing him. The reptilian creature scurries away and then hides on the ship until it grows large enough to slay all but one of the seven astronauts. (At some point, Ash, the science officer, informs the crew that the crablike face-hugger had laid eggs down Kane’s throat, and the creature that had popped out of the man was a different form of the monster.) Only heroine warrant officer Ellen Ripley and orange tabby cat Jones ultimately survive the adult monster’s stalking and rapacious appetite.
Thus, the concept of parasitoid, or deadly parasite, hatched in my mind. A parasite that kills its host(s). I went on to read Alan Dean Foster’s novelization of Alien, and the author compared the alien life form’s biological cycle to a wasp and spider analogy on earth. Through the dialogue of the ship’s medical officer, Ash, whom we later find out is a lethally programmed robot, Foster tells us: “It used him for an incubator. Like certain wasps do with spiders on Earth. They paralyze the spider first, then lay their eggs on the body. When the larvae hatch, they begin to feed on …”
Sure, there are others sci-fi horror movies that deal with parasitoids: Invasion of the Body Snatchers, David Cronenberg’s Shivers, and John Carpenter’s The Thing (1982), but Alien and its sequel Aliens from director James Cameron were and are the gold standard.
Some of these parasitoid life cycles of organisms bursting out of hosts are frighteningly real. A memorable highlight from Carl Zimmer’s popular science book “Parasite Rex” covered a ruthless parasitic barnacle called the sacculina that drills into green crabs, takes over the crabs’ brains and nervous systems, lays eggs, and then forces their crab hosts to serve as distributors for its violently breaching hatchlings. The fascinating book also explored multi-stage parasitoid life cycles in snail and bird populations, where a snail feeds on bird droppings, swallowing the barnacle’s eggs. The eggs hatch and worms crawl up into the snail’s brain and eyestalks, making them glow like beacons. Zombie-like, the snail slithers up to the top of a tall strand of grass. Attracted to the new bright coloration of the snail’s eyestalk, a bird swoops down to snack on the zombified snail. Then, it is the bird through which the cycle continues as the egg-laying worms irritate the bird’s bowels …
Now, I look for parasitic (and parasitoid) activity in everyday nature, from the mud dauber and other spider-hunting wasps that visit my backyard from a nearby abandoned barn, to the cicada killers that frequent the area every seven years to parasitize and bury alive members of the emerging cicada population. It’s not always so bad what wasps do to their hosts, not if you’re a gardener, farmer or vineyard owner, who often welcome or place parasitic wasps on the property to deal with, for example, the tomato hornworm (the larva of a crop-damaging moth). All these wasps with their strangely alien life cycle inspired a monster of my own making.
Vespa 2007, the First Flight of the Giant Parasitic Wasp
Sometime in 2006, I completed work on a novel titled “Vespa,” named after the Latin word for wasp. It was and is a pioneering venture into the wasp as an apex parasitoid predator. And why not the wasp? It’s the heavyweight champ in the insect world. It can generally lift 10 times its own weight. It can sting repeatedly … without losing its stinger and dying like with its often smaller and better-liked cousin, the bee. The wasp has recently made headlines, adding to humanity’s worries and woes in the form of Vespa Mandarinia, the Asian Giant Hornet, aka the murder hornet, which does a double whammy of stinging and killing us and preying on honeybees as well. And, most eerily, many wasps can paralyze their prey and impregnate it with its eggs, which then hatch and eat the host from the inside out. And like something out of a science fiction novel or movie, some wasps, such as the emerald cockroach wasp, can hypnotize and zombify their prey into doing their bidding …
Uberwespen: Wasp Invasion
Alien, Ash, Kane, O’Bannon, Shusett, Alan Dean Foster, Carl Zimmer … thank you for bringing the parasitoid life form into real focus and into science fact and fiction. Your inspiration has gestated my second of three sci-fi horror novels on parasitoid monsters. It is a progressive or standalone novel, take your pick.
Here’s a description:
Earth unleashes giant parasitoid wasps, a holistic natural response to deforestation and destructive human expansion across the globe. The wasps are potent enough to immobilize humans and bury them alive with their hungry hatching eggs, like smaller wasps do to pest species such as caterpillars, cockroaches, and spiders.
Teamed with an FBI agent, parasitologist, and a teen hacker, Dr. Beth Halfers, a California entomologist, must stop the wasps’ spread. But it’s not easy, because the invasive wasp larvae can also take over human nervous systems and brains from the inside out, making it difficult for Beth to trust anyone.
Uberwespen: Wasp Invasion… and you thought murder hornets were bad.
Got a Kindle? Give it a whirl at just 99 cents. Also, available in very affordable paperback.
Check out “Vespa” on Amazon.
Read the frightening sci-fi horror novel “Uberwespen: Wasp Invasion,” recently released by Raven Tale Publishing.