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 antenna around one of Sweet-Berries’, but she couldn’t reach Electric-Touch to create any { }.
“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
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.
***
Yellow-Spot woke to clear sky above. The frond hideout was gone. She sat up. The trees had moved. Or maybe she’d dreamt the nastiness of the false gods. Electric-Touch lay motionless where she’d fallen. No dream; the nightmare was real.
She stood, looking for danger, looking for the false god. Sweet-Berries lay on the ground but still breathing. Then there was the demon, five body-lengths away and as clear as can be.
“No,” Yellow-Spot said softly, the smell of fear becoming strong. The demon was her true enemy, not the gods.
Sweet-Berries opened her eyes and sat up. Probably she’d been woken by the smell of
fear.
The demon approached. Yellow-Spot quaked, sure somehow that the demon had been responsible for the current horrors. She ran down the hill. As the hill became steeper she turned to see the demon and Sweet-Berries following her.
She stumbled, fell, tumbled down the hill, antennae-tip over heels. When she stopped, she heard the roar of a river.
She stood. Something was wrong. Her leg hurt. She ignored the pain. It was pain or facing the demon.
She stepped into the river. It wasn’t that large, but with her leg hurt it was hard to get any decent footing.
Near the center the water was up almost to her mouth. She imagined the roiling water around her was a placid pond where she could see her reflection. She glanced back at the shore, thinking about turning around. The demon and Sweet-Berries were still following. The sight of the demon threw her off balance and the current swept her off her feet.
Water flooded into her nostril. She tried covering it with her hand, but she was sinking.
“My reflection’s chasing me.”Then the world went dark.
***
“Yellow-Spot?”
She opened her eyes and looked up at Sweet-Berries. She sat up. Her left antenna felt wrong. She reached up to feel and winced. The pain stung her nostril so strong that she almost sneezed at the smell.
“Your left antenna and left speaking arm are broken,” said Sweet-Berries. “And I think so too is your right leg, or maybe it’s just sprained. I bound a wood splint to it, to keep it straight. Too bad Paste can’t soothe broken bones.”
Yellow-Spot made to get up, but Sweet-Berries held her down.
“You’re not going anywhere too soon, sister. But I’m so glad you’re alive.” Sweet-Berries looked down the river, which disappeared over a cliff only a few hundred people-lengths away.
“We were going there, weren’t we? I wished you had told us, so we’d know. Why didn’t you just tell us?”
The demon appeared. Popped into existence. Yellow-Spot pawed the ground, trying to back away. Fear-so common a smell now-thickened the air.
“My gods, sister. What is it?”