Antelligent Design

21. Lining up Those Ducks

With the rare core in front of me, it’s time to pay the piper. As much as I’ve derived a strange sense of joy forcing the hatchlings to absorb a special core, this process seriously hurts. I’ve already maxed out my core AND absorbed a special core. If I absorb this rare core, will I really be able to take it?

Or will my core just detonate and rip me apart from the inside?

Hoo boy.

Here we go.

Taking a deep breath, I gingerly touch my antennae to the cold surface of the core.

[Compatible rare core detected. Would you like to reinforce your core or reconstitute the monster?]

I sure as heck don’t want to create one of those crocs as one of my pets. I have too many bad memories of them to even consider it.

Nothing for it. Gimme dat core juice!

As soon as I give my mental assent, the densely packed energies contained within the gem-like sphere begin to flow into me, swirling throughout my body before settling in my core, adding their strength to my own.

And it immediately hurts.

I’d gotten used to the vaguely stretched sensation of my maxed-out core to the point where it didn’t really bother me. I’m not sure if that was just because I’d become accustomed to the pain or if my body had adjusted to the expanded core size. Ultimately it doesn’t matter, as the vast energies within the rare core pour in and my own starts to grow.

My body was not meant to hold a core of this size!

Damn that stings! Holy Moly—with a capital M!

This must be what it feels like to have a swollen stomach, that’s not a stomach but actually a stone formed of condensed mystical energies. The pain isn’t even localized around my core! Unlike before, it’s radiating outward, zapping along my nerves to the ends of my limbs and rebounding off my extremities to come back to my centre worse than before.

How delightful!

In complete agony, all I can think of is to endure as best I can. I don’t know why, but the idea to stop and just walk away doesn’t occur to me. Even though I don’t need this in my life. I’ve suffered plenty in my new existence. Perhaps someone else could pick up this burden for me. I’ve done more for the colony than every other individual in it, bar the queen herself, at this point.

And it isn’t as if I want to be an all-powerful, lord-of-all-he-surveys sort of monster. I don’t especially crave individual power. I’m far too lazy to be deeply ambitious!

And yet, I grit my mandibles and hold on.

Perhaps it was watching the twenty hatchlings be so stoic and selfless in their attitudes. Perhaps it was the queen’s acceptance of what I’d done, creating so much change to push the colony forward. Perhaps I’m just stupid. Haven’t quite ruled that out.

Whatever the reason, I hold on.

It hurts, and I hold on.

There is agony, and I hold on.

My body and mind are breaking into a thousand pieces, but I hold on. As strange as it sounds, there’s clarity in these moments. As if the pain radiating out from my core has seared away the clutter and doubt that normally rattles away inside my mind.

I feel clean. I feel pure.

I’ll endure this. I’ll survive. There are things more unendurable than this. I have a family now, something I’ve never really had before. I won’t allow them to suffer. Won’t allow them to struggle. Deep down, I’m prepared to shoulder burdens to help them.

This core needs to be used and I’m the best one to use it. For whatever reason, there is no member of the colony as advanced as I am. For the time being, it has to be me.

And so, I hold on.

There is nothing in my universe except for the pain and this ball of packed energy resting on the dirt. The transfer of energy is glacially slow. At least it feels that way. This core must hold more than ten times as much energy as a special core. No matter how much I drain out, it doesn’t seem like I’m any closer to finishing absorbing it!

More pain. Endure.

I hold on until my thoughts fade away to nothing and my vision goes black.

HAH—I’m up!

DANG, it still hurts!

When alertness rocks back into my mind, I spring to my feet only to find my entire body screeching with agony. Yeeouch! It’s like every cell hit the gym with an enthusiasm they weren’t meant to exude. Every single part of me is radiating an intense displeasure with their present circumstances.

And my core.

Holy moly, the core.

As if I’d swallowed a rock that carried a grudge, it sits in the centre of my body and just doesn’t fit. I’m too damn full! Worst of all, I can still see the rare core in front of me. I must have passed out from the pain before I’d been able to finish the absorption process.

Perhaps that’s a good thing. I really don’t feel like I could take any more in. I really feel as if I’m on the edge of some serious damage here. Hopefully, after some time passes, the tightness and pain will fade to the point where I can absorb the rest, right before I evolve.

Gingerly, since every motion sends new signals of hurt rocketing through my nerves, I roll the core to a corner and bury it with the rest of my stash.

The hatchlings appear to still be in the process of evolving. Which is good. I need a little rest and recovery time. Before that, though, I’d told myself I would check in on the village. Just to make sure the changes to the colony weren’t about to spark some sort of conflict or misunderstanding.

Like a geriatric grandpa ant with severe arthritis and three dodgy hips, I make my way up the central shaft of the nest. Despite my condition, I can’t help noticing the changes taking place in the colony.

The first and most obvious thing is the pheromone trails. Where once they were simple messages, “food here,” “brood needs tending,” “help dig,” they’ve become more complex. Swishing my antennae through the air, I get a rush of conversations that have taken place lately, and descriptive long-term trails that have been marked down several times.

The first one I run into says “Hi there! Brood is over this way, need help with cleaning and feeding. Current food levels are healthy but expecting a spike in demand soon.”

Followed by “Hi-hi! I’ve been told there will be a spike in demand for food soon. How exciting! Follow this trail above ground to join in the surface hunting. Make sure you hunt in a team. Groups of five, stay alive!”

I can tell that last one is Vibrant, continuing to step up her leadership Skills.

In general, the messages are friendly and business-like. Things like “This way for digging, keep that soil fresh!” or “Afternoon, brood chambers this way! Can always use more help. Lots of brood lately! :)”

How the hell did they invent the scent-emoji in such a short time?

Even as I clamber out of the nest, I receive lots of greetings and well wishes.

“Hello. Keep up the good work!”

“Hi. Work hard!”

“Stay healthy there, fellow worker. Otherwise you can’t work!”

I get it… you like working! At least they aren’t talking about throwing their lives away in some pointless fashion. I suspect the next time the colony is under attack, that might come back out. We’ll see.

For now, I tip toe my way to the human village to see how things are travelling.