rEvolution

This is on of two stories written as a kind of afterthought during a bigger project, and, like the other, came out more or less as is with minimal editing.

It was an enjoyable experience writing this, and it is one of my personal favourites. Short, but to the point. I have not edited it at all since its one revision about five years ago.

Things were tense all over the nest for days now. The queen herself had become ill and therefore weakened to the new upcoming stars in the nurseries that would soon take over.

But not if the old guard had anything to do with it.

Then there was the possibility of outsiders invading the nest. Enemies such as the Reds, who had made their intentions quite clear in the past, their own queen hungry for more power, more nest as her own brood began producing queen larvae Only the unity of the nest frustrated her plans for conquest, countering two major invasion attempts from both ground and air, and a further two which brought in the Black and yellows whose own queen had designs on the territory, again, her own nest filling up with potential usurpers, desperate for accommodation before the cold weather set in,

But the inner enemies, the radicals; natures wild cards, were the worse problem. A group of individuals who wanted to break away from the collective, live their own lives, and quite willing to die for that independence.

The queen had grown sick and tired of their whining voices very quickly and had sent in the warrior drones to deal with them. But when they came back, their numbers decimated it became clear to her that they were more than just a bunch of pests.

Some of her own warriors had even joined their own ranks.

It was soon after that she became seriously ill, her mind and body beginning to deteriorate. Her young, somehow sensing her illness began to accelerate in their maturation. They would also be larger and more powerful than other drones as those still loyal to the imperial rule fed them small quantities of royal jelly in preparation for the battle.

If they got the chance to hatch.

The balance of power was shifting. The royal jelly no longer meant privilege, and those who had ingested it were ruthlessly executed. All but the queen herself. Her throne room was littered with the body parts of would be assassins, as she could be one mean bitch when the mood took her. They say that an animal is at it's most dangerous when it is hurt, or when it's young are threatened. Two for the price of one.

But the individuals knew that time was on their side. They could wait her out.

Her death was a cause for great celebration throughout the nest.

At last they were free. No more pointless toil. Gone were the days of obeying. Now they could get down to the business of living their own lives, each with it;s own voice rising together in a new age,

Hurrah! The outsiders also celebrated the death of the queen. Without a leader -they reasoned- the nest was ripe for conquest.

The Reds attacked first. Superior weaponry gouging out walls of the liberated nest, eager for the flesh of their enemy. But once they entered they got a shock. As the nest no longer functioned on commands of the queen, a new front line had evolved. There was no longer physical class differences of drone and warrior. Now the difference was male and female, both capable of intense aggression.

Fighting was fierce. Both sides took heavy casualties; mandible to mandible they were even sided in the tunnels; brute determination itself working to the Reds disadvantage. With that and the experience gained in the war of liberation they managed to force the intruders out, where the defenders took to the air and swiftly counter attacked. The Red queens mate was one of the first casualties to fall under a hail of rocks.

The individuals were now strong enough to repel any attack. The new Order held supreme.

There remained one problem.

Now that the inhabitants had begun to breed there were more needs than resources available. They were running out of space and food. Not only that, but clan chiefs -superior individuals- had arisen in the general population, with ambitions of their own to rule.

Civil war broke out, the ground around the nest seething in agony as the dead and dyeing were unceremoniously totted to the four winds.

On and on it raged ceaselessly until the population dwindled next to nothing. The once great tunnels and halls, the stores and the nurseries, now lay in deathly quiet, any life scuttling back into dark corners where it cowered as a drone of wings and marching of many feet; chitinous armour scraping past inert bodies, and the drip of poisonous mandible drew closer.

The Red / Yellow black alliance hadn't come to sign any peace treaty.

It was personal.

Days passed, perhaps as much as a week.

The nest lay in ruins. Nothing moved within, nothing moved without.

No living thing breathed...

Except one ant, carrying something in its mouth.

A leaf: building material for the new home that was taking shape not far away.

Better hurry little ant, the queen will be waiting.

Billy's face screwed up. He didn't usually watch nature programmes, but his sister had insisted that she needed to watch it for a school project. Normally this irritation would have earned her a quick skelp across the nearest part of her anatomy, but Jane had taken an interest as well, and Billy wasn't about to argue. Not tonight. Tonight was going to be special, and he wasn't going to blow it over some stupid programme about ants.

But, as the end credits rolled, he had to admit that it had been good. As an additional bonus his sister, who had been unimpressed had left early to go over to her pals house to talk about how gross it had been.

The two of them had been left alone at last.

And Jane had found the whole documentary about the life and death of millions funny.

'Why go to all that trouble? Aren't they all insects?' she had asked

'They are different. Probably why they hate each other'

'What silly little animals' she remarked