The entire city was abuzz about the upcoming match. Among the humans who made their homes within the nest, several hundred at this point, there was little conversation about anything else. The Great One, as the ant was usually referred to by the people of Renewal, hadn’t been seen by the people for a long time. Even aside from the new, fanatical following that Tunnel Ball had created, every human who could get a ticket would have shown up just to see the famous ant in the flesh.
“OH GREAT ONE! BLESS US WITH YOUR GLORIOUS PRESENCE!”
“We praise the Great One!”
“YOU ARE MIGHTY! A CREATURE OF CHITIN AND POWER, WHERE WE ARE FLESH AND WEAK!”
“Reforge us in your image!”
Peter watched the gathered crowd of the faithful from a… safe distance. Priest Beyn had practically begun vibrating the moment he’d learned the object of his faith would be within his sight once more. The preaching had begun immediately, and hadn’t stopped for the last ten hours. The farmer had thought they’d run out of steam, but, if anything, they’d gained momentum as the time ticked past.
“Looking forward to the match, Peter?”
Someone called from behind him and he turned, smiling, to answer the question.
“Very much so,” he said sincerely.
“What do you expect will happen?”
It wasn’t the first time he’d been asked that question since the announcement, or the hundredth, and his answer had been the same every time.
“I have no idea,” he said. “I know I’m supposed to be the expert, but I just don’t know.”
The old man who’d spoken to him sucked his teeth in, a pensive expression on his face.
“I was hoping you’d have some advice, I was looking to put a wager on the game….”
Peter frowned.
“You know how the Colony feels about that.”
The old man raised his hands defensively.
“Just a little flutter. There ain’t no harm in it.’
“That’s not how they see it.”
Gambling wasn’t anything unusual amongst the humans, and with a new and exciting contest on the scale of nothing they’d seen before, betting had sprung up almost overnight. In the Colony’s eyes, it was an utter waste of time and resources. The practice confused them more than anything else, and they would have ignored it if not for the unrest it caused within the nest. Humans losing all their money, or going into debt, or fighting outside the Stadium… it was a shameful sight.
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Commentant had mentioned to him that the Colony was close to banning betting on Tunnel Ball entirely, and he honestly hoped they would.
“OH GREAT ONE! WE ARE PRIVILEGED TO WITNESS YOUR SUPERLATIVE GREATNESS!”
“We humble ourselves before your glory!”
Peter sighed. They weren’t going to stop until the match started. Possibly, they wouldn’t even stop then, he realised.
“Ah, are you Peter? The Tunnel Ball commentator?”
Another voice, probably to ask him for a prediction for the upcoming match. He turned with a smile. If it was about Tunnel Ball, he never got bored of talking.
“That’s me,” he said. “And I have no idea what will happen in the match.”
A young woman frowned quizzically at him.
“Okay? I was sent to find you. Are you free at the moment?”
“Uh, yes?”
“Fantastic, could you come with me, please?”
She turned and led him to the edge of the relatively open human compound the Colony had built and towards the more narrow tunnels that led deeper into the nest. Two ants waited there and he felt a mind bridge connect as he drew near.
[If you could follow us.]
[Can I ask where we are going?] he thought.
[There is one who is in need of your expertise regarding Tunnel Ball. We hope you don’t mind.]
[No, it’s fine.]
This wasn’t so unusual. He’d been asked to educate ants many times about the game. They were fascinated by the cultural practice, and the Colony seemed to think they could determine why it was so popular by examining the rules in granular detail. He’d heard there was a theory among the ants that there was something about the pit the game was played in that was satisfying to the human psyche.
If he was honest, he couldn’t explain why the game had caught on as much as it had, but he could speak endlessly on what he found enjoyable about it.
Through the tunnels they went, blending into the endless winding traffic of the nest until Peter found himself staring, slack-jawed, up at the biggest ant he had ever seen.
The monster towered over him, each mandible the length of his entire body, the antennae three times that length. Its dark compound eyes seemed to stare straight through him, and as it turned, he would swear the light seemed to weaken as it neared the ant’s carapace.
[So you’re the guy? The Tunnel Ball expert? I’m Anthony. Sorry to drag you out here, but I’m supposed to play a match tomorrow and I’ve got no idea what the rules are….]
Peter couldn’t bring himself to speak for a long moment, and he felt the giant ant’s thoughts turn to concern over the bridge before he managed to get a coherent sentence together in his mind.
[S-s-s-so you’re the… Great One?]
[Are they still calling me that? Holy Moly. Look, I’m Anthony, the Colony likes to call me the Eldest, which is mainly a technicality, but whatever. Just use my name.]
[O-o-ok…. And you’re going to play against the Endless? In Tunnel Ball?]
[Yyyyyes? That’s literally what I came up here to do. My core is leaking power right now, I ain’t here on vacation, that’s for sure.]
In the back of his mind, Peter had never actually believed the Endless would lose. He’d seen them play so many times, and their strategy and execution were flawless, to a point where he’d begun to think they might never fail.
Now, looking up at this colossus, he couldn’t imagine a way they could possibly win.