Колонизация

“It’s about time you woke,” one of Yellow-Spot’s eyes caught a Nurse saying.

Yellow-Spot turned toward the Nurse, feeling guilty at the things she said to her Queen, questioning the gods’ validity, no less. “I’m sorry-”

“You shouldn’t be,”the demon said.

“You’re lucky you don’t get exiled.”

Exiled. Yellow-Spot imagined being pushed out of the colony, forced to wander the forest alone, cut off from her Queen and sisters. The horror almost caused her to pass out. “Yes, well, the Queen’s very forgiving.”

The Nurse made a dismissive gesture, and Yellow-Spot couldn’t make out if it was an actual word.

Yellow-Spot moved toward the dome’s entrance. “I’ll be leaving you, then.” She waited for a response, but the Nurse just stared at her, and the other Nurses were busy feeding larvae and attending to other duties. She was glad to leave.

Outside the nursery, she took a deep breath, feeling her abdomen expand and contract, smelling the Paste being cultivated from the nearby berry field. Gods yelled at the Farmers. To most people, any sound a god made was divine. But Yellow-Spot had lived with them; she could detect anger in their strange noise-speech. She thought about going over to the field and telling the Farmers what the gods were really saying. But her words would fall upon blind eyes.

“We need to leave tonight,”the demon said in her mind.

“I don’t want to.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“I do!” Yellow-Spot looked around, hoping no one saw her speak. She began walking toward her clutch’s dome, with the sun to her back now. Both moons were out, both nearly full.

“Why am I doing any of this?”she asked the voice.

“Everything will become clear,”the demon assured her.

Yellow-Spot thought about defying the demon, but she feared the demon would then withhold the { } that they could share.

The whine of one of the gods’ flying machines brought Yellow-Spot back to the present. Several people stopped what they were doing to prostrate themselves in prayer. Yellow-Spot continued walking, feeling only slightly guilty at the sacrilege she was committing. Perhaps the demon’s crazy thoughts were getting to her. She recalled the demon’s first appearance in her mind.

Yellow-Spot had been with the gods only a few days, feeling like a Queen, of sorts, as she’d been chosento learn the god’s speech. That day she witnessed two gods standing, facing each other and making loud noises. One god pointed a grey stick at the other. The second god began to run away. The stick thundered, with smoke coming from it, then the second god fell. The fallen god made softer noises, like some wounded animals make, and leaked red fluid. After a short time she stopped moving.

“How could one god kill another of her own colony?”Yellow-Spot had asked herself. “Only animals do that!”

A new voice replied, “They are not gods.”

Yellow-Spot could deny the voice at first. It began as vague arms, indistinct, yet able to form words. Much as Yellow-Spot’s own thoughts. But it grew stronger the longer she’d spent with the gods, took more shape until it was not just arms but a body as well. She often wondered where the demon had come from. Perhaps it was some trick the gods had cursed her with. But that didn’t make sense; if anything, the demon acted against the gods. But then where’d the demon come from?

Both moons waxed and waned several times and Yellow-Spot witnessed further ungodly acts. She began agreeing with the demon, started accepting that these might not be gods. A whole cycle of seasons passed. By the time she had left, she’d been glad to go.

Presently the gods’ flying machine rumbled. Yellow-Spot stopped to watch it, truly mesmerized. How easy life would be to fly! The machine’s spi

Yellow-Spot was losing interest when she saw a stick rise up on a pillar of fire to co

“You stupid people,”the demon said, “they’re fighting.”In her mind’s eye the demon currently appeared as an indistinct person.

After Yellow-Spot had learned the rudiments of the gods’ language, she’d learned that there were two factions of them, each at an uneasy peace, much like her colony was with the other surrounding colonies. With the fireball lighting the sky, it looked like that peace had ended.

Yellow-Spot approached her clutch’s dome, the white of Paste-wax gleaming in the sunlight. She avoided people lest they ask her what had happened. Fortunately most seemed content to accept it as divine wonder.

“Sister!” exclaimed Taste-of-Sweet-Berries, ru

The clutch was currently Pasting up the holes to their dome the hail storm had made a few nights ago. When Yellow-Spot came in, several people stopped what they doing to { } with her. Yellow-Spot loved the community of her clutchsisters and for a time the demon receded just a little.

After several greetings, Yellow-Spot motioned for Sweet-Berries to follow her back outside. “Are you ready for your assignment from the gods?” “from the cursed demon,”she thought-spoke.

“Yes,” Sweet-Berries said.

“And you’re sure you can make Royal Paste?”

“Of course I’m sure. I’m a Nurse.”

“And Electric-Touch-On-Red-Fur? You’ve talked to her?” When Yellow-Spot had walked in a moment earlier, Electric-Touch was atop a people ladder Pasting the highest spots on the dome.

“Yes. Yes. Why all the secrecy? Wouldn’t the Queen at least give us her blessings?”

“Yes, why all the secrecy, demon?”Aloud, Yellow-Spot said, “She did. That’s what the meeting I just went to was about.”

“No, I mean, why doesn’t she give her blessings to the whole colony?”

“It’s at the gods’ request,” she lied. The gods, whether false or not, wouldn’t have approved either way. Yellow-Spot had seen first-hand the lengths the gods went through to control the colony, had overheard their conversations when they thought she wasn’t listening. They will decide the next Queen, and Yellow-Spot was supposed to be there to help facilitate the conversation. The gods did this, they said, because of The War Against The Gods another colony had started. Yellow-Spot had her doubts that war had even happened.