Near the entrance to the hive.
"So when an enemy attacks, instead of stinging, you raise your hamr liiiiike that—"
I raised a stone hamr over my head with all four arms, beating my wings hard to keep in the air.
"—and swing it right down!"
The swing was so powerful that it made turn upside-down in the air. I lost balance, and with a shriek, began falling to the cave floor.
I slowed my fall before too late and landed on my feet. Then I straightened and pretended that the last part didn't happen.
"Got it, girls? But you will start training your swinging on the ground first."
My pupils looked at their own hamrs.
"Yeah, sounds simple!" B10 said, confidently taking her hamr the wrong side up.
"How do I find if it will really hurt?"
"Just swing it like that?"
"No, B4, don't swing your hamr so close to others! Stop, stop! Don't start testing how much it hurts by swinging the hamr at your sisters!"
The young bee, now nad B4 (B stood for "bee"), lowered her raised hamr, looked at her neighbors, and moved several steps away.
Her sisters B3 and B5 imdiately tried to swing their hamrs over the empty space B4 was at, only for their hamrs to hit each other.
All the nas were given by . I *really* wanted to co up with sothing much cooler, but there were way too many bees for my imagination, and also… I couldn't get attached to them, no-no-no! Their lifespan was asured in weeks.
I winced at the loud crack of stone on stone. But to my relief, neither hamr broke.
"Stop that, everybody! Put your hamrs down, for now," I shouted, then muttered, "Hell, am I corralling preschoolers or sothing? Well, I guess I am…"
The bees in front of had the gall to look guilty.
After my shouting, they put their hamrs down and waited for further instructions with more patience.
But I knew it was just an illusion… Yes, these bees were smart enough to learn complex concepts—but they severely lacked education. And maturity.
No way I could teach more than a dozen at once.
"Alright, now you will repeat swings together with , until we all get it. First, get away from each other… Take the hamrs in four hands, the stone part up. Then swing at my command. Only at my command!"
The swinging got much better after that. It was almost like a squad of soldiers, swinging the hamrs in unison.
Next, we all practiced doing this mid-flight. This was harder, but other bees were much better at flying than .
A day of training later, I could say that they will be able to hamr down soone besides each other. But this all was the easy part.
Next day, I began explaining to them how foraging posts should work. We gathered for our class at the sa place as before.
"When a Forager Bees returns to the hive and starts telling—or showing, or dancing, it doesn't matter—where the food is, two dozen of Foren will go with the Foragers that will fly there—"
"Queen, what's a 'dozen'?"
I had to rapidly explain counting on fingers. They caught on quickly.
"So, four palms of Foren Bees… But you only teach us ten. There aren't twenty Foren Bees."
"There will be! And if you are still sure that I'm a Queen, call by na, at least! You understand nas, then why don't you use them? It should be Nectus or Father for you, understand?"
"But where from—"
"Shhh… No talking in the class, children! Have so respect for your dad, dammit! He really tries here, tries to not be so deadbeat who went to buy milk when his son barely knew how to read, only to return fucking *never*…"
"Uh… Father? What are you talking about?"
I caught myself and cleared my throat.
"Nothing, nothing at all. Just so *absolutely* hypothetical father. Forget it! Forget it."
"Alright, Father. But you are still a Queen?"
I hid my face in my palms.
First thing tomorrow, I was flying outside and washing those pheromones off.
After gathering myself together, I shouted so discipline into my daughters and continued where I left off.
"You will find so space on the ground or a large enough leaf for Foragers to store gathered food. Especially pollen—the containers technology for liquids is still in the works, but, anyway. Be close enough to the sources of food that if soone attacks a Forager, you can fly at the attacker and scare them off, or even kill them!"
A bee opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again.
"Yes, B10? You have a question?"
"What if we can't defeat the attacker? Like… what if it's a big hunter?"
At this point, I was really curious what a "big hunter" was, but was too afraid to ask.
The next words were hard for to say, but I had to.
"Then retreat. Fly away. Each of you, with your training and your genes and your hamr, is already more valuable than a Forager."
Those were the words of Nectus the Grand Strategist. A logical thing to do and say.
Bees died in the colony every day, by hundreds—from old age, or from attacks outside.
The bees that were growing too old to function instinctively flew outside to die there. But sotis, a bee would die inside the hive for whatever reason, and the Cleaning Bees would just pick her body and throw it out to the rest of the garbage.
And of course, nobody cared. They were *bees*.
I wondered if that would change when more bees will gain intelligence.
For now, my pupils just nodded to my words, having no problem with that.
Like that, I taught them the details of not just forager posts, but also how to teach other bees everything I said. It took an entire week—the bees learned new concepts quickly, but they knew almost no concepts to begin with.
By this point, their biological age made my students into Nurse Bees, who had slightly higher stats than Cleaning Bees, and were a bit taller.
In this world, like in my own, bees changed jobs based on their age.
Now I raised my hamr in salute to them.
"You've leaned all your lessons, girls. Thus, I grant you the title of Foren Bees!"
'System, am I doing this right?'
Reviews
All reviews (0)