Episode 6. The Sea Pig And the Sun: Queen of the Hive
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Series Guide: List of All Episodes
They buzz down through the leaves, guided by the welcoming scent of the hive.
“My friends will be impressed when I tell them about my reception,” says Vi. “I just won’t tell them that all the guests were hymenoptera.” Her joking is a cover. Obviously she’s uneasy.
They find a small ragged hole in the dirt by some bamboo roots. Crumbly soil, writhing roots. A steady traffic of homeward bound wasps is crawling in, their motions achingly slow and precise. Inside the dark nest, the scent is strong. Vi can still see; her compound eyes have infrared abilities. Tunnels branch, and everywhere are the gleaming eyes and wings of wasps. Hexagonal paper cells line the walls, storing slow pupas. Deeper down, they reach the royal chamber with the queen. She’s idle and swollen.
“Get her,” Qoph tells Vi.
“Shit no. You fact, do it,” goes Vi.
The queen cocks her head, spotting them and sensing danger. She exudes an alarm odor. A cluster of workers comes scrabbling in. One of them latches onto Vi’s rear leg.
At this moment, Vi has to wonder what will happen to her mind or soul or personal eme if her wasp body dies. It could very well be lights out. She has to act.
Lunging forward, she wedges her mandibles into the gap between the queen’s head and her thorax. You might call it the neck. Dear, strong Qoph is chewing on the other side.
*crik crak*
The queen’s head pops off. Quickly shifting gears, the workers set to work dismantling the queen and eating her. Vi settles onto the silky paper bed the queen had occupied. A couple of the workers fumble at Vi’s ovipositor, wanting to carry off fertilized eggs to place in the paper cells.
Without knowing quite how she does it, Vi communicates a “No Eggs Today” message, and the drones let up on her gaster. Qoph, ensconced on a silk and paper bed at Vi’s side, sends out a combined chirp and scent that says, “Feed us.”
A worker crawls across Vi’s body and — regurgitates sweet nectar into Vi’s mouth. Quite tasty. The worker’s name is Oksana. Vi feels a hive closeness to her. Other workers bring food as well, with Oksana being especially attentive. Soon Vi and Qoph are more than satisfied.
“I was worried they’d bring us chewed-up flies,” said Vi.
“They feed the macerated insects to the larvae,” says Qoph. “In return, the larvae ooze nectar that we adults enjoy to eat.”
“This is like I’m watching an overly detailed nature film,” says Vi. “I do like my new worker wasp friend Oksana — but can I go back to being human now?”
“Sure,” says Qoph. “Wick is going to be so embarrassed.”
“That sleaze,” cries Vi, taking in Qoph’s meaning. “Take me to him now.”
Energized by the larval nectar, Qoph and Vi buzz out of the hive, past the bamboo, and through a convenient little hole in the screen of Wick and Vi’s bedroom.
Wick is naked, dozing on the bed with — what’s this? A mound of tan meat? Koral has lost her shape; she’s like a Cubist Picasso painting — with eyelashes, twisted mouth, random limbs, and a blonde ponytail.
Without thinking twice, Vi lands on Wick and stings him. He shifts and mumbles. She stings him again. The venom takes hold. He moans and sits up. At the sound of her husband’s voice, Vi returns to human form, standing naked by the bed, thoroughly disheveled.
Disturbed the action, Koral snaps back to looking like Vi as well. Qoph drops from the air in the form of a Wick lookalike.
“Vi is ready for the parade,” Qoph tells Koral. “How about you?”
“Yes indeed,” says Koral, resting her hand on her belly. “I’m replete. Wick’s quite the man.”
“She made me do it,” jabbers Wick. He gets to his feet and embraces Vi, who makes as if to twist away. Wick hangs on to his wife, frantically kissing her.
What the hell. Soothed by Wick’s touch and his convincing remorse, Vi forgives him. “I did it too,” she tells him. “And now I’m pregnant. Big time.”
“You and me both,” says Koral. “For the parade!”
“We’ll ride in Waama’s Mercedes,” says Qoph.
“What are we going to do in the parade?” asks Wick.
“Spread clouds of eggs,” says Koral. “An eme from some random natural computation will move into each one. Making baby meaties. Each meatie will focus on a human target, and grow to look just like them.”
“Too weird,” grumbles Wick.
“Let’s sleep for now,” suggests Vi. “I’m whipped. All four of us can fit on our bed. But no more funny business.”
“Yes, my Queen,” says Qoph.
“Some milk and cookies first,” suggests Wick, longing for a return to normality.
So they raid the fridge, and chat a little about today’s escapades and then they’re all in the bed, with Qoph and Koral wearing borrowed PJs.
In the morning, a wasp is crawling on Vi’s face, depositing drops of nectar on her lips. Sweet and watery, with a tang. Vi vibes that the wasp is fixated on the notion that Vi is queen. The worker wasp is in fact Oksana from yesterday.
“I’m not queen anymore,” Vi tells Oksana.
Oksana is bereft. “Who queen? Where?”
“You be,” says Vi, feeling the eme powers within her. She vibes into Oksana’s body, turning on the worker’s fertility genes. “Go to the nest and multiply,” Vi tells the wasp.
“What are you doing?” says sleepy Wick. “God, there’s a wasp on your face. Hold still, I’ll pinch it before it stings you.”
“No, no!” cries Vi. “She’s my lady-in-waiting. But now she’s the new queen.” Vi pulls loose the screen, shoos Oksana out, and replaces the screen. “I’ll never squash a wasp again,” she tells Wick.
Qoph and Koral are awake too.
“It was interesting to sleep like a human,” says Qoph.
“Human dreams are a path to the multi lounge,” observes Koral.
“Were you two there last night?” asks Wick
“Sure,” says Qoph. “The other emes were there too. Eager for their meatie bodies. Waama exhorted us. She’s enthused.”
“Waama’s always enthused,” says Koral. “She runs around inside a slobbering sea pig.”
“A sea pig that can looks like an expensive car,” says Qoph.
“We grew our host bodies from cells of Wick’s and Vi’s bodies,” says Koral. “Waama herded her sea pig host body up from the ocean floor, and made it big, and crawled it across the beach, and made it look like a Mercedes. She has a lot of tweak power.”
“Obviously I’ve missed out on some action,” says Wick.
“I saw Waama humping across the beach,” says Vi. “Yesterday morning. Very 1950s. I thought I was dreaming.”
“Come to think of it, I noticed some of drag marks in the sand,” says Wick. “Right before we left. Didn’t have a chance to mention it.”
“We weren’t exactly having a calm discussion. As for last night, all I saw in my dreams was wasp eggs. Fifty icky eggs twitching in my womb.”
“Not wasp eggs,” says Koral. “They’re humanoid eggs for the coming emes to live in. I’m carrying fifty eggs too.”
Vi touches her curved belly. “And they come out at the parade?”
“Yep,” says Qoph.
The faint thudding of a bass drum drifts up the hill. Then toots and bleats. Then the full, massed sound of the high-school band playing scales. Warming up.
“They’ll change their tune soon,” says Koral.
“I’ll fetch the car,” says Qoph.
