The Colony

by A. J. Colucci

  Jeremy smiled, seeming unaware of any mockery. “I don’t know about that, but my company has had great success in all areas related to swarm intelligence.”

  “Swarm what?”

  “Let me explain.” Jeremy leaned in, his hands moving gracefully, accentuating each word. “The amazing thing about ants is that they have no leaders, no manager, no one giving orders. Yet they’re able to accomplish all the complex tasks of a highly developed community, like food gathering, cleaning and defense. It’s called self-organization and it’s a concept that’s hard for humans to fathom. Just imagine a football team with no coach, a ship with no captain, an army with no general. So how do they do it?” Jeremy held a dramatic pause. “Through a highly efficient method of chemical secretions called pheromones.”

  “Pheromones,” the mayor repeated. “I knew that.”

  “Sure. It’s a Greek word meaning ‘carrier of excitement.’” Jeremy grabbed a pen from his shirt pocket and began drawing visual aids to illustrate his point. Kendra noted it was the silver Montblanc she had given him as a birthday gift years ago, and it made her feel edgy yet oddly touched. Inscribed down the barrel was a series of ones and zeros: 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01101011 01100101 01101110 01100100 01110010 01100001. Binary code for “Love, Kendra.”

  “Ants communicate thorough odors,” Jeremy continued. “For example, an ant finds food and returns to the nest, leaving a tiny scent on the ground.” He marked the paper with dots and arrows. “The smell leads other forager ants down the same trail, which they reinforce with new markings, making it stronger. By repeating the process with many ants in many different directions, the best route to the food is found.”

  Kendra leaned back in her chair, hoping to stay out of the conversation, all the while watching Jeremy’s sexy dimples blink on and off as he spoke. There was no denying the killer body, and although he had proven quite adept in bed, he fell short of all other expectations. She turned to Paul and his dark brooding eyes under thick lashes, large fingers quietly drumming the table. It was never a contest. Ever since she’d met Paul, no man seemed to stack up.

  “That brings us to the term swarm intelligence,” Jeremy said. “By creating algorithms based on ant efficiency, my company saves other companies billions of dollars. For example, we developed computer programs for the United States Air Force, modeled from ant behavior, which can figure out things like how many drones are needed to swarm an area and take out ninety percent of the targets in half an hour.”

  Russo looked impatient. “That makes sense from a technology standpoint, but how can it solve our problems with real ants?”

  “Let me tell you,” Jeremy answered. “For the past twenty years, the global infestation of deadly ants has skyrocketed, so we’ve been using these computer programs to figure out ways to destroy them. Five years ago, a supercolony of fire ants in the Yucca Valley had grown to over a hundred and fifty miles long, all the way up to Bakersfield; cut right though Edwards Air Force Base. Using supercomputers, we modified the swarm intelligence programs to emulate the ants—all from data gathered by Kendra and her company, Invicta.”

  Uh-oh, here it comes. Kendra slumped in her seat as Jeremy threw her a wink.

  “Invicta has been supplying us with statistics on fire ants for years. We studied and analyzed video, charts and graphs, every piece of data from Kendra’s field studies, then created millions of computerized ant models based on things like behavior, soil, weather, geography—mating habits,” he said, raising a brow.

  Kendra could feel Paul glaring at her. She wanted Jeremy to just stop talking, so she blurted out, “Ants are very predictable in their habits. We were able to figure out which direction they would travel, colony size and, most important, the location of the nests. At that point we were able to dig up the queens.”

  “Kill the queen and you kill the colony,” Paul said, looking at her.

  “In other words,” Jeremy said, shooting Paul a glance, “know your enemy and you can destroy him.”

  “Well, that is rule number one in the military,” Russo replied.

  “Exactly,” Kendra said. “So using Paul’s DNA samples and Jeremy’s supercomputers we might be able to figure out the locations of the Siafu Moto nests.”

  “Might,” Paul stressed.

  “Still, even if you find the nests,” the mayor reasoned, “what good will it do? You said these ants are indestructible.”

  “Nothing is indestructible,” Jeremy said. “It’s just a matter of finding the right method to kill a particularly nasty opponent.” His eyes lingered on Paul. “And of course, finding the right man for the job.”

  “Or woman,” Kendra added. “I might be able to kill the queens with a technique I’ve developed. It has more to do with the manipulation of natural chemicals than creating a toxin. It’s sort of like tricking the colonies into suicide.”

  “Is that right?” Russo asked. “Paul didn’t mention it.”

  “Paul isn’t too familiar with research outside his own,” Jeremy said. “But Kendra has already killed off quite a few colonies with this method. It’s very promising, very promising indeed. I’m certainly going to incorporate it into my business practices.”

  Kendra could almost feel Paul steaming, and suddenly wished she hadn’t kept Jeremy so informed on her progress—but then quickly reconsidered: Why shouldn’t she tell a colleague about her work when he was so interested, so supportive of her efforts?

  The mayor turned to Jeremy. “You said that colony of ants you found was a hundred fifty miles long. What did you call it, a supercolony?

  “That’s right,” Jeremy answered. “And we’re looking at the same behavior in our New York variety. The largest supercolony ever discovered is a single colony of Argentine ants that stretches through Italy, France and Spain and then spans thousands of kilometers throughout Japan and California.”

  “Across continents?” the mayor asked, surprised.

  “Yes. When scientists put the Argentine ants together with any other species, they fought to the death, but when they put the European variety with the species from Japan and California, they acted like old buddies. Even though they were separated by vast oceans, they had formed a global supercolony.”

  “Ants wear a waxy substance that they can smell on each other,” Kendra added. “It’s like those ants in Europe, California and Japan were all walking around in the same team uniform.”

  “So these ants could technically spread across the nation, and the world.”

  “Technically, yes,” Jeremy said.

  “It’s even more frightening than you realize,” Paul warned. “A supercolony is genetically homogenous. They recognize each other and cooperate with each other, and they kill off all the native insects in the area. From what I’ve discovered in the past few days, these ants are doing the same thing. Not just annihilating rats and people, but every living creature they come in contact with.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Actually,” Kendra said, “if we hope to kill the colony with pheromones, a supercolony might be easier to hit as a single unit.”

  “Especially if I can locate the nests,” Jeremy added.

  The mayor looked skeptical. “In my day, a bug crawled by and got the old boot stomp. But if you think this computer stuff might work against these freaks of nature, then you have my support.”

  Jeremy nodded with confidence. “It certainly can’t hurt.”

  The mayor stood up, stretching an ache in his back. “Paul, can you stop by my office? I’ve got these confounding lab tests from all over the world that I’m anxious to unload.”

  “Sure.” Paul gave Jeremy a weak nod and followed Russo out the door, not even glancing back at Kendra.

  She wanted to follow Paul, but her legs felt like rubber. On top of that Kendra was hungry, starving, actually, and exhausted. It was hours since she’d devoured a small bag of pretzels and her blood sugar was in the basement. She longed for a shower, a nap and a s
erious conversation with Paul, but felt a pang of guilt at such selfish desires while a citywide crisis was lurking.

  Now she was alone with Jeremy. She watched him whistling and unpacking boxes and was certain no lack of comforts would ever stop him from saving the world. He could probably go for days without anything but a computer and some hair gel.

  “So, what did they tell you about this new species?” she asked.

  “Siafu Moto?” He chuckled. “They told me it was some kind of ecoterrorist experiment that escaped. Apparently all the research was destroyed, and if I breathe a word of this I’ll be thrown in prison.”

  “You believe all that?”

  “The prison part, maybe. The rest, who knows?” He pushed aside a box and sat down next to Kendra, smelling clean and faintly of musk. The back of his neck flushed, a reaction to being near her, and his deep voice dropped to a coarse whisper. “Been a long time since Bakersfield, Kendra. The desert is fine, but robotics is the future.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.”

  “It’s not too late to get back in. We really miss that brilliant mind of yours.” His fingers playfully flicked her short locks and he smiled as if pleased with the new look. “I miss you too.”

  Kendra turned from his gaze.

  “So, I guess you’re back with Paul,” Jeremy said, standing up and busying his hands inside the box again.

  “You guess wrong. I’m a consultant, same as you.”

  “Yeah, right.” He clicked his tongue. “When are you going to realize Paul’s work will always come before any woman. You deserve better, Kendra. You can’t replace love with the social order of Solenopsis Invicta.”

  “What is it with you two? Why do you have to disagree about everything?”

  Jeremy frowned and then snarled, “It’s that blasted Paul and his stupid theories about ants. I hope this disaster proves him wrong, once and for all.”

  Kendra sighed, weary of their endless bouts.

  “Any scientist in his right mind knows that ants are savage warriors, not to be admired. Let’s be sensible. Other than man, ants are the only creatures on the planet that go to war. They fight for territory, food and sometimes no reason at all. They show no mercy. They take prisoners and make them into slaves. Kendra, ants are no better than we are.”

  “You’re talking about a small number of species. Most ant colonies get along fine.”

  He shook his head vehemently. “If this catastrophe proves anything, it’s that Paul O’Keefe is full of crap.”

  She forced a smile. “Let’s just hope you can find those queens.”

  He seemed to calm a bit. “My technicians are setting up Gwendolyn now.”

  Kendra figured Gwendolyn was one of Jeremy’s supercomputers. He had a habit of naming them after women he fell in love with. She wondered if he still owned the prized Cray-2 that he renamed Kendra when they were dating.

  “We should have the entire DNA strand soon. You want to sit in?”

  “No thanks. My focus is anatomy. You know—the actual ants.” She stood, ready to leave, but he caught her wrist.

  “If Paul hadn’t come between us…”

  Kendra could see the hurt in his expression. Things were never right with Jeremy. His jealousy of Paul could be maddening, but there was something sweet underneath his bombastic nature. Kendra realized she had failed not just one relationship but two, and touched Jeremy’s cheek. “I’m sure it would have been wonderful,” she said and headed toward the door. “See you around the watercooler.”

  “Looking forward to it.”

  CHAPTER 16

  PAUL SAT IN THE mayor’s office, across from Russo. It was a perfect replica of his study in Gracie Mansion, adorned with cherrywood walls, leather furniture, marble tables and a collection of antique guns in gilded frames. It gave the appearance of a stately office, one of a mighty municipal warrior, instead of an underground hideout padded with six inches of steel.

  Paul shifted uncomfortably in his snug wooden chair. In any laboratory field or lecture hall he was a voice of authority, a tutor among colleagues. But now he had the feeling of being back in the principal’s office. A nine-year-old caught with a locker full of spiders, ladybugs and termites, forced to sit in front of a domineering man listening to lectures on the dangers of bringing vicious animals to school.

  Russo pushed a stack of papers toward Paul. “Here you go.”

  Paul stared, daunted at the reports, but didn’t pick them up. No doubt they all had reached the same conclusion. Besides, he’d finally mustered enough courage to confront the mayor and didn’t want to lose momentum. “I think Kendra is right about evacuating the city. We’re gambling with a lot of lives.”

  “Now, Paul. We’ve been down this road before.” Russo waved a dismissive hand. “It’s my gamble, not yours. This is my city, my people and my responsibility.” He leaned back with a trace of sympathy. “I’m a military man, you know. Served four years in Iraq. I understand the casualties of war when you’re facing an enemy, human or not. It’s painful, sure, but you don’t risk the lives of many just to save a few.”

  “What if it’s not a few? What if things get worse? We should be preparing for a possible disaster. Kendra and I have a theory that the ants might actually launch—”

  “Whoa, whoa, slow down, Paul.” Russo held up a palm. “Why do you think we’re all down in this bunker? We are following emergency procedures. I’m fully staffing this place. By Monday we’ll be able to completely run Manhattan from underground. But evacuating civilians? We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

  “I think we have come to it.”

  “Hey, you’re the one who told me you could get rid of these bugs. I’ve given you all the authority, unlimited resources—just do it.”

  “It isn’t that easy. We haven’t even been able to figure out why they attack.”

  “Well, that’s why I hired you. To figure them out and kill them. I didn’t hire you to run around the city like those other lunatics, panicking the public. You’re different, Paul. You understand business and finance.”

  He said it so offhandedly. Paul was taken aback at the idea that the mayor would put money ahead of human lives. He tried to sound more forceful. “I have to insist that you’re grossly underestimating the threat to this city. We need to make the facts public. At least that will free our consciences if anyone else gets hurt.”

  “Free whose conscience? I don’t have a problem with mine.”

  Paul blinked back his anger. He fought off his role as a scientist always to reveal the truth. What exactly was his role? It was all so confusing. He was part of a team, brought in by the mayor to solve a crisis without causing a citywide panic, yet he was tired of the lies, the cover-ups, evading the press. “We have a moral obligation to tell people the truth.”

  “What truth is that?” the mayor asked flippantly.

  “That New Yorkers are on the dinner menu of a trillion insects, thanks to the United States military.”

  “That’s funny, Paul. You have a real gift for comedy—if you think going public is an option.”

  Finally, Paul appealed to the bottom line. “What about our legal obligation? If you have no moral qualms, then consider the enormous liability to the victims.”

  “Our asses are covered by the Homeland Security Act. This falls under federal jurisdiction, notably the United States Army, and believe me, I’m getting plenty of pressure from those bozos to keep the lid on this.”

  “So that’s it? You’re rolling over for the general?”

  Russo was losing patience. “What do you propose we do? You want to be responsible for the stampede out of town? It took me four years to get our fiscal house in order, now you want to balance a ten-billion-dollar deficit next year?” He stood up and strolled around the desk with a hearty grin. “Come on, Paul, you said so yourself, these deaths are probably isolated incidents. You didn’t find a single colony.”

  “I was wrong. We know they’re out there. Hoard
s of freak insects created by some ecoterrorist experiment that I didn’t even know about.”

  “Well, now you do. So take a look at these reports and think about it for a couple of days. Then I expect you to come back with some real solutions. If you can’t kill these ants, I don’t know who can.”

  Paul walked out of the office feeling the mayor’s hand on his back. Russo nearly pushed him past his secretary. As they reached the hallway, Paul started to speak but the mayor shoved some folders into his hands. “Don’t forget the reports, huh? I’m sure there’s something useful in there. And we have dozens more coming in tonight.”

  The door slammed shut and Paul stood alone in the hallway, once again feeling like he was back in the third grade.

  CHAPTER 17

  KENDRA WALKED INTO THE laboratory, where Paul was feigning deep interest in a computer screen. He immediately forgot his trouncing by the mayor and replaced it with thoughts of jealousy.

  “So what were you and the illustrious Rudeau discussing?”

  “Usual ant chitchat.” Kendra busied herself with an assortment of glass slides. This was not the time to be making marital confessions, but she felt an overwhelming need to confront Paul, to talk about the affair, get it out of the way once and for all.

  Kendra took a breath. “Paul. Jeremy and I—”

  “Let’s not go there.” He stopped her with a raised palm.

  “Fine.” She moved closer, but he eased back. “So tell me, why is he here?”

  “Jeremy? I told you, to help us find the queens.”

  She gave him a sideways glance.

  “Like I said, the army wanted him here.”

  The lab was suddenly stifling and Kendra felt a need for unsterilized oxygen. “Is there a way out of this tomb?”

  “We’re not supposed to leave.”