The tunnels between layers were uncomfortable at the best of times. Filled with smoke, ash and the bubbling streams of lava that made the heat unbearable, they were inhospitable before you took into account the demons prowling through them. Or worse, the remnants of demon obsession that simply refused to die.
Yet, for one nameless scout, this was, by far, the most stressful trip through the tunnels that she had ever experienced. The knowledge that the entire Colony was waiting for word of the Queen’s fate weighed heavily on her carapace, but she was determined.
Her six legs were more than enough to bear the burden. She would not fail the family.
Those six legs blurred as she raced through the narrow tunnels, flitting up the walls, across the ceiling and back down again as she dodged anything that might impede her path. Monsters were left confused, swiping at nothing as she rocketed past. Even the lava seemed confused, unsure if anything had disturbed its passage.
She was on a mission. She was speed.
Even Vibrant might have nodded, slowly, with deliberate grace as a camera zoomed toward her face, had she seen the scout perform this mad run. All the while, she left behind a clear trail of pheromones, indicating to any who came after that she had passed this way.
And then she was through, skittering out and gripping tight to the ceiling of a new layer of the third stratum, the endless plains stretched out beneath her, kilometres below. It was a perilous drop that would terrify many, but the scout was undaunted, her clawhold sure and firm.
She could see the pillar, not far from her current position. It would be difficult to navigate her way down alone; she didn’t see any other scouts emerging from the tunnels just yet. There was no time to wait for them, and she couldn’t see the Queen from these heights.
Down she climbed, face first, as fast as she dared. Down the pillar, onto the plate city, through which she rushed as quickly as she had moved before, onto the underside of the rock disc, and then down again.
Soon, she was on the plains themselves, having made record time in her descent. Her antennae thrashed wildly through the air as she attempted to locate any trace of the Queen and her entourage. There had to be a scent trail, no good ant went anywhere without leaving one behind, she just had to find it.
She circled around the base of the pillar until at last she detected the trail, then she was off. Demon larvae flailed wildly as they tried to throw themselves from her path. Usually they failed, and she trod on hundreds before she finally found what she was looking for, not that she was happy to see it.
The Queen and her guards were engaged in battle! Ravenous, maddened demons threw themselves at the defensive formation that had sprung up around the giant Queen, who held the centre herself, fighting with her usual determined, stubborn manner.
Cold fear washed over the scout as she raced forward.
“What is happening?” she asked as she drew near, careful not to be caught in the melee. “I’ve come from the Colony in advance of an expedition.”
The vicious combat continued unabated, but even so, the reply came from the nearest general.
“We’ve been engaged by hostile demons who seem to be possessed by some strange fever. They fight with no sense of self preservation or purpose. We can’t reason with them. No matter how many we kill, they keep coming out of the tunnels below.”
“Can you disengage?”
“We can’t, they’d jump on our backs the moment we tried to move.”
“Can the Queen leave while we hold them off?”
The general gave a humourless huff of pheromones.
“You’re welcome to try and convince her.”
The scout gave that idea up immediately. Every member of the family knew it was futile to ask the Queen to abandon her children.
“Can you last until reinforcements arrive?”
“We’d better, or the Queen is lost,” the general replied, her scent grim.
Unwilling to waste more words, the scout turned and raced away, weaving between two demons who had drawn near as she did so. Back along the trail she ran, unflagging and unfailing. A new scent trail being left, one calling for all possible aid.
Only a few minutes into the return trip, the scout ran into one of her own kind, following the same scent she had followed.
“What’s happening?” the scout demanded.
“Queen and guards engaged by hostile demons. Retreat difficult. Extraction required.”
“Got it.”
Message delivered, the scout turned and raced back toward the Queen, while her sister turned and raced back toward the pillar. No doubt she would soon run into another scout and would be able to pass on the message before coming back to aid in the battle.
A message relay like this was common practice in the Colony.
Soon enough, she returned to the scene of the battle and was alarmed to see that the fighting had intensified. Yet more demons had emerged, several of them larger and clearly stronger than before.
She ducked left, feinted right and then dashed through the middle, throwing herself into the formation of her siblings formed around the Queen.
“Reinforcements are coming,” she announced. “Scouts are relaying your situation back to the task force.”
“How long until they get here?” the general snapped.
The scout hesitated.
“An hour, hopefully less.”
That wasn’t the news the general wanted to hear, but she dismissed her frustration: it wouldn’t keep the Queen alive, so it was useless.
“How many are coming?” came the followup question.
The scout twitched.
“All of them,” she said, as if stating the obvious.
