Chrysalis

“The tea is excellent this season,” one queen observed.

“Indeed,” another noted, sipping again from her porcelain cup, “and the biscuits have elevated once again. This flavour is just divine.”

There was a general chorus of agreement from the “table” the gathered royalty sat around. The special seats invented by the carvers had certainly evolved since the early days. Once upon a time, they were simply a stone edifice, carved to fit the carapace of the ant who sat upon it.

The queens now rested upon seats lined with the finest leather, stuffed with the softest feathers, and coloured to each of their own personal favourite shades. Gold thread had been used to embroider and decorate each of the chairs with personalised filigree and symbols representing each of the eight gathered ants.

“They spoil us too much,” another huffed. “The waste of resources and time is simply profligate.”

“What can we do about it?” laughed the first. “We have asked them to stop, but they won’t.”

The eight gathered queens all nodded seriously in understanding. They had indeed asked their precious family to stop lavishing such extravagant gifts on them, even threatened to risk themselves as the Queen did, but to no avail.

“How are things going in the second egg-chamber?” the fourth asked. “Any interruptions or issues?”

“No,” replied the fifth in her typical blunt fashion. “We’ve been meeting our quotas easily. There seems to be plenty of Biomass to go around.”

has been working

to nibble on the delicate biscuits. They had to be careful not to damage the plates. Exquisite works of gleaming porcelain, the plates were beautiful to behold, but not entirely practical for an ant to eat from. As of yet, an eating vessel

seem a little sweeter than usual,” the second queen noted,

first took a larger bite and

right. They may have increased the

experimenting with the snacks?” the eighth grumbled. “They were perfectly fine

second continued to take small sampling bites, “I think they may be better this

no

that just because you put too much sugar in your tea?” the seventh prodded her sister with an antenna. “You’re making

centre of the chamber. Around the outside, scores of ants patrolled in a never-ending

of the Colony’s social structure, the young. Without the queens, no young would be born, an unthinkable atrocity to the ants. Despite the size of their mining, smelting operations, or the vast fields of crops and fine tea leaves, by far the largest industry within the Colony was the harvest and transport of Biomass. Hundreds of tons flowed into this nest every day, to be consumed by the eight and turned into new young.

the demands on the workers had only increased. Patrols had been extended for kilometres

devastating the rate of replenishment. If they hit an area too heavily, they risked reducing the diversity in that part of the Dungeon, which was