I still clearly remember the way to the nursery.
That's not too hard, since the whole hive is designed with that giant pillar that contains it at its center.
I think this is because the babies are completely defenseless and could fall prey to any kind of burrowing predator.
The wide vacant space around the pillar makes it impossible for them to enter from the sides and the top and bottom are thoroughly patrolled.
A princess on the other side is by no means defenseless and always under tight personal watch.
Such a single entity doesn't need as many guards as this whole structure in comparison.
And in case of a greater attack, it's better when the princesses are in a position where they can escape on their own.
Meanwhile, the brood can't be moved this easily, so they might have to be left behind.
Yet now I grow a little anxious.
This understanding of the hive's structure was not my own idea, but rather an ingrained instinct.
It would make sense that a princess knows how to build a base if she is ever going to found one.
I think it might be better to speak in insect speech with mum to make her feel like that condition isn't abnormal.
(F)
If anyone should know about the procedures there, then the elite nurse, who was assigned to me.
So the nurses are rather free to look where they have to help before a baby dies.
I mean most of them still live, so the system seems to work.
We soon reach one of the bridges leading to the pillar.
I walk a little closer to Kyska.
(F)
Oh, wonderful.
No more having secrets from my mother.
Great.
Sounds convincing.
No one likes it when you mess up their work or insult their mothers.
And the hive is certainly not the right place to call for a revolution.
< As I said, she was a strange one, but I wouldn't say that she acted with malicious intent.> (F)
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Damn. I'm fighting a losing battle against this alliance of nurses.
This is my second time in the nursery, and again I think I cause a commotion.
At least I gather quite a lot of attention.
But it could also be because of the little army behind me.
Anyway, I think I disturb here the process.
I know she means well, and it might be the right thing to do, but just looking at these beings, knowing how they came into existence makes me feel incredibly uncanny.
We decent till we are somewhere in the middle of the pillar, maybe even the lower segment.
It's rather dark, with only occasional light stones.
But the corridors are all coated in this brown-orange applicant which reflects the bit of light.
Eventually, we reach a room with more light stones than usual.
In there are many of these tubs, yet slightly larger than I remember.
Some nurses are around, tending to the contained creatures, but most of them stop when we approach.
Mum just like this approaches them.
They tilt their heads for a moment, which is kinda funny in that unison.
Then they recover and one addresses her.
The first nurse to approach has a professional attitude it seems.
She waves to a lane of pods and I guess the numbers mean the location within.
This one looks a little older. Somehow more experienced and calm.
Well, these insects at least never do anything unnecessary.
Mum goes to one of these pods and as soon she comes close promptly clamps her nose.
Seems like her different sense of smell isn't that much of an advantage here.
She takes it out and holds a rather large larva in her arms.
She seems to carry it in a special way.
Some appendages already developed and its body starts to get a brownish tint.
Or it's just the residue of whatever it laid inside.
I hope for the first.
While mum brings the larvae to a new pod, another nurse approaches her.
Oh, a cheery younger one.
I would compare her to Suki.
(nurse 3)
Mum should hurry to explain this to her because it feels as this nurse might any moment implode as confused she is.
(F)
Mum realizes that she stopped working while talking and immediately tends back to the pod where she took the larvae from.
There she starts to scope its contents out, using an earthen vessel, and pours it in some kind of drainage.
The first nurse is still close to her.
Those larvae are all mine here, right?
Uncanny.
That's oddly reassuring to hear.
Right now their working chatter becomes very embarrassing for me.
But it seems mum is getting along with her colleagues.
So I should leave now, to avoid bothering them any further.
And to escape their gossiping.