“So what’s the deal here, Lieutenant?”
“They’re organized like ants, somewhat. The big one with the egg sac, she’s the Queen. The four smaller ones that are painted orange, those are her husbands. The ones with guns are soldiers, and everybody else is—”
“Workers?”
“More like ‘citizens’, but close enough.”
“And? What do they say?”
“The Queen is pleased to meet us. The husbands are arguing over something, I can’t tell, maybe who gets to play host. The soldiers all want to kill us, I think.”
“And the workers?”
“The citizens just want to know if they can eat us.”
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