Day after day, I taught Ambrosia the basics of writing and math, and waited anxiously for the Foren Bees training program to finish.
Thankfully, the weather stayed good all that ti, and the Warrior Bees did their job well. Sightings of ants beca increasingly rare, and we only lost 1 unit of food per day on average.
A week of that later, I had more good news when a Craftsman Bee flew to with a report.
"Father, we've poked all the holes and made all the hamrs. The Chief Foren said that all Foren Bees have hamrs, even those who are just training. Will you tell us *now* what other interesting things can we make?"
She was looking up at with palpable hope in her black, shining eyes. The bee's twenty fingers were twitching.
I smiled, feeling all warm and fuzzy at her adorable enthusiasm.
"You finished even faster than I hoped, so sure! Let's make more things—I have so many plans for you, you can't imagine. Gather all the Sergeant Craftsn in one workshop—I will tell you all the good stuff."
Knives! Spears! Strings and clothing! Oh, so much to do, so little ti.
I was going to build an industry there. It would have to be big, because there were a lot of bees that needed tools, weapons and protection.
The workshop was just several united honeycomb cells, placed near the storage for hamr materials. As long as the outer wall was fully removed, the room was close enough to the hive entrance to be lit up.
I stood there, surrounded by a dozen curious Sergeant Craftsn. A hundred more of the line Craftsn Bees were hanging outside the workshop, trying to listen in despite the constant background noise of the hive.
And there was only a slight problem, which I realized only now.
All these bees waited for my wisdom, but my wisdom… was over.
I wanted to start with knives—the core tool of almost any industry. But all I knew about primitive knives is that they were usually made from flint or obsidian. And obsidian was black, while flint was… flinty?
Yeah, I hoped no one asked to invent electricity and gunpowder here.
But knives *had* to be simple enough.
"Girls. Today is an important lesson for you. A *practical* lesson," I declared. "We will learn how to invent things. Sharp things. Knives! But first, we will need materials. Where did all the Material Foragers go?"
***
Material Foragers quickly understood what I asked of them. Several hours later, the workshop I picked for training was full of what looked like various garbage.
There were several pieces of bone (so still bloody), various rocks, and a rot-reeking black and yellow chitin plate almost a ter-wide.
"Alright, that one—sobody, throw it out," I said, pointing at the plate. "It's too rotten to do anything. As for the other materials—each of you should pick what you like the most."
They didn't need my instructions. Craftsn Bees were already poking at the materials, clawing and even biting at them to test their hardness.
Before, while Material Foragers were foraging, I explained to them the basics of making knives. Now I sat next to them and picked two rocks that looked *a bit* flinty.
"Alright, girls!" I raised them for demonstration. "Now we just have to sharpen one of these things by hitting them with other things. Very simple, I'm sure practice will make it perfect!"
Then I slamd my rocks into each other. Thud!
The rocks just got slight scratches.
I frowned. Was my strength not enough?
I put one rock on the floor and raised another rock, then slamd it as hard as I could.
CRACK!
〔You were dealt 1 damage.〕
"OUCH!"
"Father!"
"Father, what happened?"
"Are you alright?"
I looked down, wincing. My blow broke a splinter off one of my rocks and it flew right into my chest. Now there was a bleeding scratch.
'One damage? It hurts like at least 5!'
I picked at the scratch and pulled out the stone shard.
Ouch, ouch, ouch… I even had tears in my eyes. How pathetic…
Thankfully, the sharper pain soon receded into a bearable ache. I wiped the blood off and decided it *probably* won't give tetanus.
"Well, fuck. Fuck. I'm fine, girls, but a new rule—no hitting rocks with the rocks. Too dangerous. This splinter could've hit my eye. Or one of *your* eyes!"
"Maybe you shouldn't be hitting anything at all, Father," a Craftsman Bee suggested. "You already risk yourself too often, despite being so important to our entire colony."
Other bees nodded eagerly.
"The Attendants told us all about it!"
"And the Foren!"
"You went out in the storm…"
"Even the Queen was angry!"
"Father, Father, just stay away from the rocks. Let *us* hit things!"
My shoulders fell.
The generations had changed in the hive fully by now. And all the bees beca smart ones, and the smart bees needed to feed their smart brains with information…
Here, the only information was gossip. They were gossiping about !
"No-no-no! I said I would demonstrate, so I will! These bones look promising—lets try sharpening them. And rember—you aren't expendable. You are trained professionals and my daughters, alright? So whatever safety asures apply to , they apply to you, too!"
***
Several hours of attempts and many destroyed old bones later, I finally held in my hand sothing that could be called a knife. The first knife in our colony, made by one of Craftsn Bees from a piece of bone.
It had a leaf-wrapped handle and an edge sharp enough to saw through a test piece of wood.
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