characteristic of his race. The humans walked briskly to keep up, the panting of the slaves strangely amplified as they bore the litter down a maze-like array of ramps. The tunnels had been hewed out of the ground, then braced with some strange compound that set into the hardness of stone. Sounds echoed easily off this substance, lending an eerie quality to the creak of armour and weaponry. Deeper the party marched, through curves that undulated apparently without pattern. Odd globes of light had been placed at junctions, causing intersections to be islands of illumination between long stretches of gloom. Mara studied the globes, amazed to find they contained neither oil nor flame. She wondered how such a glow might be fashioned, even as her litter was jostled by a constant press of cho-ja intent upon hive business. Most turned to regard the humans a moment before continuing on.
As the third intersection disappeared behind, Mara pondered the different cho-ja in her view. Warriors seemed uniformly powerful, with huge lower thorax, broad shoulders on the upper body, and a height half again as tall as the tallest Tsurani. The workers were noticeably shorter and stockier, more placid in their demeanour. But she had seen others, more agile than the workers, yet less formidable than the warriors. When she asked Arakasi about these, he answered, ‘Artisans, mistress.’
The way steepened as they descended into the hive. Intersections became more frequent and the cho-ja scent thickened in the air. In time the passage widened, opening out into a large cavern hung with many light globes. Mara pushed the curtains of her litter wide and stared in surprise and wonder. Clinging to the ceiling of each tunnel into the chamber were small cho-ja, about the size of a human child of five. Transparent wings upon their backs beat furiously, the movement a blur in the dim light. Each creature seemed to rest for a minute or two, then resume the beating for an equal amount of time. The constant changing caused the air to hum with almost musical shifts in rhythm. Arakasi noticed Mara’s amazement and explained. ‘These must be worker females.’
‘I thought you said you knew only of the males,’ commented Mara.
‘I’ve never seen these before,’ he acknowledged. ‘But only the females have wings.’
Lax’l revealed unexpectedly keen hearing as he glanced back at Mara and her escort. ‘Your adviser is correct, Lady Queen. These you see above are sterile females; they are nearly mindless and live only to move through the air through the deep tunnels and chambers. It would grow difficult to breathe down here if not for their labour.’ He guided the Acoma party swiftly across the cavern, turned a bend, and entered a low passage, which quickly became a ramp heading downward. The slaves carrying Mara’s litter struggled for breath. Mara considered calling an early shift change; but the tunnel suddenly opened out into what could only be the Queen’s chamber.
The cho-ja Queen was immense, at least thirty feet long from her head to the end of her second thorax. Dark, almost polished black, she lay upon a raised mound of earth, and from the withered appearance of her legs Mara realized she never moved from that location. Fine hangings draped portions of her anatomy, and between them her workers darted, preening her enormous body, attending diligently to her every comfort and need. High above her, and mounted back upon her thorax, a stocky male perched, his soldier-like body surmounted by the small head of a worker. He rocked over the Queen with a rhythmic motion. Arakasi inclined his head and said, ‘A breeding male, my Lady. One is always with the Queen.’ A dozen cho-ja males were arrayed before her, some with crested helms and others without visible ornament; all awaited the arrival of the Acoma party in polite silence. On either side of the chamber, smaller versions of the Queen lay upon their stomachs, and attendants bustled about each of them. Arakasi pointed these out to Mara and murmured, ‘Rirari, I expect, the lesser queens who lay the eggs.’
Lax’l indicated that they should wait, then scuttled forward with a loud series of clicks. A hush fell over the chamber, though the workers still attended to their tasks. The bearers placed Mara’s litter upon the earth, and with Keyoke’s assistance she stepped forth. No longer hidden by gauze hangings, she felt small, almost lost, in a chamber at least four times the size of the grand hall of the Anasati; up close, the size of the Queen was overpowering. Maintaining her poise with an effort of will, Mara stood while a slave from her retinue slipped a jewelled overrobe over her shoulders. She strove not to quail as the alien Queen stared intently at her. The dark, faceted eyes reflected no expression. Mara endured with an outward show of calm, though her knees began to tremble as her attendant stepped back. Then the cho-ja Queen spoke in a voice surprisingly slight and delicate to be issuing from so enormous a form. ‘You are the human Queen?’
Mara bowed slightly, the jewels on her sleeves flashing in the dim light. ‘I am Mara, Ruling Lady of the Acoma. We have no queens as you do, but I rule my house in the same manner as you would your hive.’
The Queen made a sound. Her chitin features remained immobile, but her manner suggested amusement, and her outburst seemed akin to human laughter.
‘I didn’t expect your kind to breed like us, Mara of the Acoma. I have been told of your odd matings. I am very old. But among humans I have heard only of Ruling Lords. How is it that you hold command, and the men who accompany you do not?’
Mara explained that only when no male heirs remained within a noble family did a female come to power. The Queen listened, and when Mara finished, said, ‘You humans are so alien. We often wonder what makes you strive so. But I distract myself. The new Queen, my daughter, is anxious to meet a human queen, particularly one who ventures below ground in deference to the customs of our kind.’
Now the old Queen sang out in a loud, piping whistle, and a pair of cho-ja workers came forward. Between them they ushered a cho-ja smaller than any the human party had encountered so far. Mara looked a long moment before she understood. ‘This is the new Queen?’
‘Such was I once, long ago. She will grow and within a matter of weeks she will be big enough to rule; a few months after, she will start reproduction.’
The young Queen regarded Mara, circling her to get a better look. She seemed to move with a grace not seen in any cho-ja before, her steps fluid, even lithe; she showed none of the rapid movement Mara had observed in the workers and soldiers. But even as she spoke in the clicking tongue of her kind, her bright, faceted eyes never left Mara. The cho-ja matriarch said, ‘Our young are born knowing our language, as they are taught while they grow within the egg sac. Your tongue they must learn after they hatch. My daughter will be unable to speak with you for some time yet to come.’
The young Queen’s scrutiny made Mara’s skin prickle self-consciously; yet she held still and waited. Presently the young Queen finished her inspection and fell silent. The old Queen answered rapidly and then translated in Tsurani. ‘She said you are all alien-looking – frightening.’ To Mara she added, ‘Though you are less frightening that the males.’
Mara bowed slightly to the new Queen. ‘Please tell her I think she is lovely.’ The remark was not empty flattery; although the young Queen would someday grow to be the monstrous equal of her mother, at present she was delicately formed and pleasing to observe. Unlike the blue-tinged males, she was a deep maroon in colour and possessed a quality that Mara could only call feminine.
The old Queen interpreted and the new Queen trilled, seemingly in pleasure. Mara went on, ‘We come seeking a treaty. We would welcome this new Queen and her followers to build a hive on our land. We would like to begin negotiations as soon as possible.’
The old Queen answered, ‘I do not understand. The negotiations have begun.’
Mara felt a stab of concern. The finality of the event came too suddenly for her to cope, for she had banked upon the counsel of Arakasi. She strove politely to buy time. ‘I am weary from days of travel. Might I have leave to rest a day before we speak of these matters?’
The old Queen
