Колонизация

When it was clear Yellow-Spot wouldn’t give up without a struggle, Sweet-Berries got out from the tree’s cover and grabbed the Drone to pull it into the tree-frond hideout.

Electric-Touch reached up out of the frond cover to the lowest tree branch, which lowered to aid in her reach. Just as she grabbed it, one of those hard nuggets hit her hand. She dropped the fruit and more pain filled the small enclosure. Electric-Touch stared at her hand,

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Yellow-Spot hit Electric-Touch’s ante

Pleasure jabbed into Yellow-Spot and, in the midst of { } with Electric-Touch, she didn’t at first know where it was coming from. The dull ache was abating. She felt a warm tingle at the injury site. Only when she pulled away from the { } with Electric-Touch did it become clear that Sweet-Berries had applied Paste to the wound. Now that pain was no longer at the fore, the blind hole in her vision was even more evident. But it also meant she could now concentrate on what the gods were saying.

Yellow-Spot had to concentrate, but she could make out the words. “… surrender, Bee-Fuckers!”

The word “bee” hung in Yellow-Spot’s mind. A god had once shown Yellow-Spot a “bee” on the god’s magic window. Yellow and black, it looked nothing like a person. And tiny. In fact, the god said, the picture on the magic window was biggerthan an actual bee.

“Then why call us bees?” Yellow-Spot had asked.

The god paused, probably translating Yellow-Spot’s visual language into the god’s spoken one. Then the god said, “It’s just a name.”

“It’s not a name of respect,”the demon had said.

Presently Yellow-Spot looked between the fronds to see two gods about ten body-lengths from her. Halfway between them and her appeared the demon. Now its body took on a blue color, as if it was growing fur.

One of the gods was lying down; she was covered in red liquid. God-blood. The other stood, with its “gun” pointed somewhere Yellow-Spot couldn’t readily see. She’d labeled the god an “it” because it was like a Drone, only intelligent like its Queen partner.

“Only animals have Drones and Queens that are alike,”the demon said.

Yellow-Spot looked at her sisters, certain they’d give some indication they’d seen the demon. They did not.

“We destroyed your copter,” said a god Yellow-Spot couldn’t see. She must’ve missed part of the conversation.

“And that’s reason for surrender?” said the intelligent Drone. “More like reason for war!”

“You provoked it with the copter flight,” the unseen god said.

“That flight was routine. We’ve done it before to assess the progress of the Von Neuma

“Ha! Unlikely story. Von Neuma

The first Drone-god fell atop its dying Queen companion. The surviving god appeared from behind a tree and walked right up to its enemies. Its “gun” thundered several times as it pumped several nuggets into the surely already dead bodies. It said, “Fucking religious zealots. Can’t believe we share a planet with them.”

The god walked toward them, and Yellow-Spot feared the worst. Sweet-Berries attended to Electric-Touch’s injured hand, oblivious to any danger. The Drone was even more oblivious, sleeping at Yellow-Spot’s feet.

“I know I saw some bees around here. Come out, come out, wherever you are!” The god looked around, then pulled out a small round thing from the cord tied around its abdomen. It opened the round thing. A Queen’s Paste jar.

The Queen’s Scent wafted over to their hideout, and Yellow-Spot had the almost overwhelming urge to run toward it. “Stay put!” Yellow-Spot had developed a resistance to the false { }.

Electric-Touch said, “But the Queen-”

“That’s not the Queen. It’s just a container with the Queen’s Paste.” Yellow-Spot wrapped an ante

“But she’s a god.”

“Can’t be, sister” Sweet-Berries said, her words slow, as if still processing the revelation. “She kills her own kind.”

“No. The gods’ reasons are mysterious and unfathomable. But I know she still loves me.”

Electric-Touch walked out of the hideout and toward the false god. Sweet-Berries tried to grab her sister, but Electric-Touch wiggled away.

The false god barely looked at Electric-Touch. It pointed its “gun” at her, it thundered, and Electric-Touch collapsed to the ground. The demon showed an angry rainbow of shock on her color-face; Yellow-Spot could almost recognize the monster.

A new desire came over Yellow-Spot: vengeance. This was a far greater challenge to resist than the false { }. Her legs quaked, and she held on to Sweet-Berries as hard as she could.

“Make the best { } you can,”the demon told Yellow-Spot. Only afterward did Yellow-Spot realize it’d been a mutual decision, not a command from the demon.

Sweet-Berries still held the berry she’d used to make the Paste salve. Yellow-Spot grabbed it to make her own Paste, the wild berry’s sharpness stinging her taste buds.

“Come out, come out. I know there’s more of you. I know how you fuckers hate to see your own kind dying.”

Yellow-Spot force-fed the Paste to Sweet-Berries, and produced as much Scent as she could. Sweet-Berries slumped and passed out. Yellow-Spot was surprised it’d even worked. She knew the Queen could do it, but now she knew she could too.

“No matter,” the false god said. “Maybe the honey’s causing me to see things. Speaking of which …” The false god walked over to Electric-Touch’s body and began pounding on her. No, it was more like squeezingher.

“Come on, you fuckin’ bee-cunt. Give me … There!” A little Paste squirted out of her dead sister’s mouth. “Like squeezing a toothpaste tube.” The false god stumbled to the ground, mewling and groaning. From personal experience Yellow-Spot knew the false god was experiencing the Paste’s effects.

Yellow-Spot debated with herself as to what to do. She wanted to be vigilant against this false god, yet it was so painful to see what it was doing and to be reminded about what had happened. When the false god began doing strange things to Electric-Touch’s corpse, she couldn’t take it. She closed her remaining eyes and tried to force out the world. Even with closed eyes the demon haunted her, becoming more real than ever.