Wallace was an old soldier and he knew enough about himself that he could be fairly confident of judging his own state of mind. He was pretty sure that during the invasion, he’d gone ever so slightly mad. Perhaps more than slightly. That wasn’t what he thinking about though, having your mind crack a little on the edges wasn’t all that surprising given the stress and near certain death he’d thought he was about to experience. What he was reflecting on was the sneaking suspicion that he was still mad. He must be. How else could he look at a scene like this and consider it normal, without being at least somewhat insane?
“All for one,” intoned the ant-robed priest.
“One for all,” the crowd chanted back.
“Remember always, that the individual has worth as part of the group, and that the group has worth because it is a collection of individuals. We choose to work together, to sacrifice for the betterment of each other. That is the source of our strength.”
“Praise the Colony!”
Wallace turned his back on the preacher and his congregation and walked to the nearby guard post. Pretty much any time of day there would a priest or priestess giving a sermon to crowds of varying sizes. Considering how much work got done around the city these days, he was always surprised that so many of them found space in their schedule to stand around listening to person with antennae sewed onto their hood with a glazed look in their eyes. He nodded to the soldiers on duty who snapped out a quick salute.
“You do remember you have to salute me anymore, right?” he asked dryly.
“Force of habit sir,” the guardsman grinned at him.
Wallace shrugged it off.
“Any sign of trouble?”
“None, as usual,” came the reply. “The sermons have been pretty restrained and the crowds quite happy overall. I head there was a bit of a ruckus over in the market district this morning. Apparently the ants found a merchant cheating his taxes, which went over about as well as you could expect.”
The former captain grunted and spat for good measure. Merchants. They never stopped thinking they were more clever than everyone else, always willing to try and pull the wool over the taxman’s eyes. Apparently willing even when the taxman was a giant ant monster who could literally read minds if they wanted to. The ants might not really understand the concept of money, but they could certainly appreciate the idea of taxes. Every citizen contributing a portion of their wealth to the city to ensure the wellbeing of all? Of course they should! There had been long, long discussions with Enid when she had been here about the implementation of the new tax code and she’d revealed to him that the initial tax rate proposed by the Colony had been a hundred percent.
After strenuous negotiations, she’d managed to talk them down to ninety, she’d informed him, but it was only when the ants had seen the merchant delegation literally foam at the mouth and pass out did they realise the culture gap might be a little too wide to accept their idea of what constituted a proper contribution to the betterment of the collective. The final tax rate was still high, by the cities standards, but it turns out people didn’t mind paying it so much when the individuals in charge were incorruptible insect monsters. Every coin collected went straight back into the city, without exception.
“I’ll head over later to see if I can smooth anything over,” he said, casting his eyes across the newly refurbished town centre.
What had once been the enclosed sanctuary of the powerful, housing the treasury, council chambers, portal structure and other offices of government, was now a public garden centred around a massive ant hill that rose dozens of metres into the air, easily visible from all over the city. All beaurocracy was handled by the Colony now, so the other buildings had been summarily removed. The preachers had established a platform on the lower reaches of the hill, with a wide flat area for people to stand and listen to them.
Naturally, the area was crawling with ants, literally. Most of them were worker variants, running hither and thither about their duties, antennae twitching this way and that as they moved. Wallace knew for a fact that there was a sizeable detachment of soldier ants deep within the structure, ready to emerge at the first sign of danger. Anyone foolish enough to assault the ant hill would find themselves in a world of pain very quickly.
Wallace made his way to the petition platform, constructed by the ants as a place where citizens could come and directly make requests or inform them of issues that they believed where necessary. They’d gone all out making it as well. The petitioners, common citizens all, were seated on marble benches padded with soft woollen pillows and blankets, with proper back support and all. The ants provided water and snacks to those waiting as a matter of courtesy, though goodness knows where they came from. There were numerous petitioner booths open at any given time, each staffed by an ant mage ready to converse, as well as a human representative to help ‘translate’ anything that the ants might not conceptually understand.
He could remember one incident when a cheating husband had been dragged by his irate wife before the ants where she’d demanded they extract retribution for his unfaithfulness. What had followed was an exhausting, multiple hour long discussion in which the ants had learned what a male was, what marriage was and about human mating in general. Their ruling on the matter? ‘Make one human the Queen and let her take care of everything.’
As he approached, one of the mages broke away from the others and moved toward him, a mind-bridge connecting to him as it did so.
[Adjutant Wallace. We welcome you to the nest. Is there anything pressing the matter?]He frowned a little.
[Is that you, Lucy? Or is it Rosetta? I find it damn hard to tell sometimes.]The ant flicked an antenna in irritation.
[I do not have a name,] she replied.He shrugged.
[I need to have some way to tell you all apart! It would be rude to just think of all of you as ‘ant’ wouldn’t it?]She tilted her head.
[Can’t you tell by smell?] [No I can’t tell by smell. Human, remember?] [I forget you have such poor senses of smell. It must make it hard to move around without having scent trails to follow.]He was about to explain the concept of signposts and maps but closed his mouth in the nick of time. They were endlessly curious about other societies, constantly looking for ideas that they might adapt to their own way of living, but her couldn’t be bothered going into right now.
[Just checking in, really,] he said, [though the former rulers of this city are still agitating for you to give them their money back.] [Have you told them to come and make a petition?] [Must have slipped my mind,] he lied. [They are free to come and put their questions to the Colony, same as everyone else. Make sure you remember to inform them next time,] the mage admonished him mildly. [I see the gifts are piling up again,] he nodded toward an area at the base of the hill which was heaped with offerings from the townspeople. Lucy, he was sure it was Lucy, seemed to huff in frustration. [We keep telling them not to bother, but every day more of them come. What are we supposed to do with this stuff?] [The people are simply expressing their gratitude,] he said softly. [For what? Conquering the city?] she sounded halfway between amused and puzzled. [What do you do with all of it, anyway?] he asked, curious. [Give it to those who need it,] she shrugged.Typical ants.
[How goes the defence against the wave?] he enquired. [Any chance you need more of us to volunteer and head out to fight? I can rustle up a few squads in ten minutes I bet.] [You would be in one of them, I wager,] Lucy was wise to his game, long used to him trying to escape his duties and get back to fighting monsters. [Our defences are holding, though the pressure continues to build. From what I hear, the Eldest has been out fighting personally in the depths for days on end to try and stem the tide. If they are out there, I’m sure things will be fine.]He didn’t need to try hard to recall the visage of the enormous ant he had seen during the assault. Apparently the ‘Eldest’ had evolved again since then, something Wallace wasn’t too keen to see. Tier six monsters were no joke. The sheer size of the Queen was shocking to him still.
[Let me know if you change your mind,] he grumped.
