Antelligent Design

44. Colony Building

Not long after the eldest departed the colony, Cobalt stood in the queen’s chamber watching the small Aphid Queen amble about under the watchful eye of her mother. Another ridiculous, unheard-of practise, brought to life with a seeming absence of effort at the hands of the first of their kind.

The eldest puzzled the Council of Twenty, as the first hatchlings of Formica Sapiens were beginning to think of themselves. Respect and deference were due to the eldest by the simple nature of seniority. Not to mention the conditioned fear that had been beaten into them over their whirlwind training.

Even so, the eldest puzzled them. So often engaged in thoughts and actions that seemed to have no place within an ant mind. Supposedly, the twenty were of the same species, but they would never have dreamed of engineering an entire breed of… cattle?

And yet, it was such an elegant solution to a problem they hadn’t even realised they had. A sustainable, constant source of Biomass which they could completely control. The colony would determine how many aphids were created, and the colony would deploy them as they wished. The only limiting factor was the available space within the Expanse.

It wouldn’t be a problem for long. Cobalt felt confident the colony would soon extend their grasp out to encompass farther Expanses. If those others included sufficient plant life for the aphids to feed on, then their population could be grown to allow the harvest to continue in those places.

Lost in her thoughts, Cobalt didn’t notice the young Aphid Queen approach him. With a start, she realised the small green insect was looking at him appealingly, its antennae waving to tap into her own.

“She’s hungry,” the queen’s voice sounded from above. Cobalt turned to see her looking down on her.

“Mother, it’s wonderful to see you so cheerful,” she said.

By a strange twist of the Dungeon, the queen was no longer the eldest of their kind, and thus technically no longer the leader of the colony, a position reserved for the eldest, who didn’t seem to want it, except when they did. Irrespective of this, the queen, as mother to all the members of the colony, received the devotion and adoration of every worker. To see her tending her new pet with such cheer brought joy to every ant who saw it.

“Thank you, child,” she said, warmth overflowing in her words. “I must admit, I quite enjoy having a pet of my own. Obviously, my children bring me the greatest happiness, but they must work for the colony and it can be some time between visits.”

It was true. Even the ants in the queen’s chamber were rotated on a regular basis in order for her to be always protected by rested and prepared ants.

“If you were to ask for them to visit you, then they would,” Cobalt pointed out.

The queen waved one antenna dismissively. “We must all do our work for the colony, child. I would never stand between a member of our family and their task.”

Cobalt could only nod. It was true. An ant should live for their work, just as they worked to live. The soldiers were busy training, scouting, planning, getting ready to commence their hunting forays into the Dungeon. The young queens were helping with the training of the current crop of hatchlings, along with the mages and healers. Already, the training process of raising hatchlings to their first and second evolutions was undergoing refinement as the colony learned of more Skills and mutations that would assist the ants as they prepared to take on their more specific roles.

Even the Core Shapers were busy. Engaged in a demanding practice of new Skills they uncovered, utilising the inspiration the eldest gifted them with to push their understanding of their role to greater heights. Even if they weren’t able to craft pets for the colony yet, it was only a matter of time as they improved their techniques every day. When more Shapers were added to their ranks, they would have a clear path of progression established for their new initiates to follow.

Whereas the Carvers…

Cobalt sighed heavily.

“Why so glum, child?” the queen inquired, noticing her sombre mood even as she directed several workers to feed her pet.

“I am feeling confused, Mother,” she mumbled. “I’m unsure of my purpose within the colony. What exactly is the work that I am expected to achieve? I have thought and thought, but I’m still unsure which tasks I have been created to achieve.”

The queen pondered briefly before responding. “There is always work to be done, child. An endless supply. There is digging, teaching, tending to the brood, hunting. For what reason are you unable to find a task?”

“It isn’t that I can’t find a task to do, Mother, but rather what task is for me alone. When the eldest designed our siblings, it was clear what work they were needed to accomplish. My comrade, Tungstant, and I find ourselves at a loss. Look at me.”

Cobalt used her front legs, thinner, more mobile and articulate than those of her siblings, to gesture at herself.

“Too small and defenceless to fight on the frontline, without the Skills and mutations to fight on the backline. I have not the Will for spellcraft, not the tending instincts for brood rearing, and not the healing gland for restorative magic. The advantages of my own evolution seem almost pointless.”

“What are they, child? What are the advantages of your form?” the queen urged.

“I’m smaller than most others, but not faster. My forelegs are more mobile, and I can move them like this.” Cobalt demonstrated by raising them, giving a clear view of the three claws that tipped each leg, arranged in a triangular formation.

Cobalt had only recently made note that the ability to rotate the claws wasn’t shared by her peers. When viewing the humans for the first time, the connection between this strange anatomy and humans’ wrists and fingers became apparent.

The queen watched Cobalt demonstrate her dexterity before questioning again. “And what else, child? I doubt these claws are the full extent of your gifts.”

“It pretty much is, Mother,” Cobalt groaned. “I have a very high Cunning stat, but I don’t know what I can do with it.”

Cobalt couldn’t be a general or a mage. What use was all of this brain power?

The queen gave Cobalt a thoughtful look, before turning her eyes upward to the stone and dirt above.

“The nest is getting quite haphazard, don’t you think?” she enquired, almost to the air.

Cobalt frowned. It was true. The rapid expansion of the nest had been done too fast, with not enough thought given to proper planning and aesthetics. The whole place was turning into a horrid mess of tunnels and chambers, no foresight, no beauty at all.

“I believe someone should take control, before it becomes a problem. Perhaps you could take on the responsibility? Until you find your purpose?” the queen suggested.

Cobalt barely heard her, mind already spinning with ideas, plans and designs for the layout of the nest. There were the farms, the brood chambers to accommodate, of course. The above-ground portion would need to be expanded, no doubt about it. Head buzzing and the previous concerns forgotten, Cobalt went to find Tungstant and rope the other Carver into this task.

Two minds were better than one, after all.