//------------------------------// // Chapter 50 // Story: Don't Bug Me // by Starscribe //------------------------------// Amie didn't laugh as she turned around. She kept her expression as neutral as possible, levitating the basket down onto the table in front of them. "Why don't you see how much of this you need, Wes. Then you should get some sleep. These bugs are going to push us hard tomorrow. We probably won't get to rest until we're back on a train." They ate in relative silence then. Wes's amusement was soon replaced with suspicion, and a little embarrassment. Amie needed no magic to see what he was thinking, albeit without the courage to ask her directly. Amie didn't make it easier on him, and volunteered nothing. She wanted to eat several baskets worth of what they brought. She settled for whatever was left when Wes finished, emptying every crumb. With the promise of more supplies to come, she opened and emptied every can she had brought, right down to drinking the gross bean-water that came inside. Wes wasn't awake to watch. The day was just as hard for him as it was for Amie, and he wasn't overflowing with the magic of a queen.  Too bad she hadn't made the trip like other changeling queens, with large retinues of bugs they could trust to keep them safe. If she had, maybe she wouldn't have to worry about reaching over to camp again.  She would still do it, of course—there were three others who would die without an infusion of new magic. Besides—if she didn't talk to Albrecht, he might second-guess his decision to let her keep her students. It took longer than the last time. Without Kaya to guide her visualization, without the perfect chairs and a flame waiting exactly in her line of sight, Amie had to compensate with a little more personal discipline. Maybe some of her hesitation came from fear over what the orange bugs might do while she was incapacitated, or the pain that was waiting for her on the other side. Eventually, she found the links she was looking for. It was a little harder in some other ways—all three of the unconscious bugs were boys. But if she didn't give them a little magic, they would be corpses. It did not hurt any less the second time. This wasn't using Rick or Beth, who she had already given plenty of magic to recover. The body waiting for her was one step from a corpse, and smelled like it. She could see little in the cabin while magic flowed through her, and she screamed in a voice that wasn't her own. A row of modified backpacks were on the ground in the center of the room, each one lined up and partially filled. But there was no crowd of other bugs around to look. Instead, there were only three. Two remained in their cots, little males like the one she had just healed. Then there was Lily. She watched from just beside Amie, looking down on her cot. Maybe she'd been there the whole time, or maybe she was attracted by the screaming. "Oh, Lily," she said, in a voice that wasn't hers. "You're still on your hooves! Are you feeling any better?" The bug didn't react. She didn't move, didn't even blink. She just stood there watching. Amie felt very little from her at all, except a diffuse sense of... loyalty?  Amie started crying. This was a kid—one of her youngest campers, someone Albrecht should've protected over any other. Here she stood, expressionless, emotionless, and maybe even thoughtless.  Is it brain damage? Amie didn't know, but she knew she wasn't going to sit there and wait while these others suffered the same fate. She stood up, shaking off the last bits of broken carapace. Then she walked over to the next bug. Lily followed her, walking almost directly behind. "Can you hear me?" she asked, a little louder. "Do you know who I am?" Lily's wings opened, vibrated once, then closed again. She still said nothing. "I want to figure out what happened to the others," she said. "But first, I have to help these two. Stay with me." Amie wasn't sure what she was doing exactly, but it came naturally enough. She touched the forehead of the little resting creature.  It was far easier to make contact with another bug when she was only a few meters away. Even seeing through another’s eyes was enough of a connection. Amie released one bug, and connected to the next.  She was getting used to the pain by now. What had rendered her mentally and physically exhausted the first time was just another step in the process now. She was strong enough, for a cause as important as her campers' lives. It felt like it was getting easier too. The third time took only a few minutes, and her third injured bug could stand on his own again. Now there were two of them staring blankly at her. She repeated the process with the last of her most injured campers, until they too could rise from their cot and stand on their own hooves.  Now there was a large pile of pale white discarded exoskeleton, fallen to the floor around the cots. All three of the other bugs remained standing, focused on her but not actually doing anything. "Can any of you understand me?" she asked. It wasn't her mouth, or her voice, but the words were clear just the same.  None of them reacted. Of course bug eyes weren't great at showing expression, but these kids were particularly stiff. They didn't twitch, didn't shuffle in place or adjust themselves to be more comfortable, they just stared. Almost—obedient? Like the scores of orange drones she'd seen in Sonoma, going about their work without apparent regard for themselves.  That brought its own wave of panic and guilt. She promised them that she would protect them long enough to get home—but if they came back basically braindead, it wasn't much better. I don't know this is permanent. Maybe they can recover. First she had to get them out. The sky outside her window was still thoroughly dark. It might be midnight, or a little past, but not much beyond that. She still had time. "You're all still filthy. Can you go to the showers and rinse off? I don't want anyone getting infected.” The reaction was immediate—her little group of bugs all turned for the door, walking in a straight line. Yet she saw no personality in their movement—the boy ahead of her was Collin she was pretty sure, and he always had a bounce to his step. Lily was so full of energy she tended to jog somewhere, then wait for everyone else to catch up. They weren't doing that.  And of course the body she was using didn't obey compulsively, she remained in control. Long enough to listen for any other thoughts along with her own, just as she had done with Lily. Just as with Lily, she felt nothing from the little bug. Maybe it was instinct, or maybe just that the first bug she'd reached was a little older than these others. Either way, Amie found it easier to switch her focus back to Lily, now at the head of the little group, and set out into the night. The camp's streetlights were all out, but bug eyes hardly noticed. A little moonlight was more than enough to see her way down the trail to one of the bathrooms. She waved the three young bugs over to the guys side, but stopped in their path. "Listen to me. Rinse off quickly, then get back to our cabin and keep your heads down. I can't be here to protect you right now." Was that command too complex? Apparently not, because all three filed into the shower without complaint. The water came on a second later. Amie waited a few seconds for any sign that something was wrong in there, but old instinct stopped her from investigating in person. It didn't matter that everyone was always naked, some parts of staff training never quite faded. Lily didn't stink like the others, which she could only take to mean someone had already helped her clean up since her last visit. That meant she could wait outside the shower, crouched low in the darkness to watch for danger. She heard none, though there was the distant sound of the PA, echoing through the trees from camp center. Something was definitely happening, but what? The bugs emerged a few minutes later, now rinsed off and not smelling quite so much like death. They filed right past her, returning the way they'd come. They can understand my orders. There must be some of them left for them to do that, right? Maybe she could find something about this in Kaya's book of wisdom. But there was no time for that now.  Amie watched long enough to see the bugs made it back into her cabin, then set off into the darkness. I hope you don't mind, Lily, she thought. I won't get you into danger. There shouldn't even be danger in Camp Stella Lacus. But given the ones running it, she couldn't actually know that for sure. If there was any less danger to the rest of her campers, she would never have taken the risk, not without asking someone who was in a place to say yes first. But if she just walked away, all her campers might die—and maybe the rest of camp with them. She resisted the temptation to transform into something closer to her own size. Keeping the woods at their proper scale was a useful reminder of the risk she took with someone else's body. Besides, an ordinary changeling drone was the perfect disguise. Who would look twice at one of the smallest bugs in camp? She was no threat to anyone, barely even worth noticing. She expected to find everyone at the mess hall. It might be the middle of the night, but since they only needed a few minutes to nap each day, maybe they had another meal at midnight? It would keep them working, anyway. Amie discovered quickly that this gathering was obviously not taking place at the mess hall. She saw many bugs assembled on the grounds of what used to be the ropes course, all packed in close to each other. The ropes had all been cut down, leaving featureless brown telephone-poles instead. The safety nets were gone too, with only plain ground below, broken by a row of... Graves. They had identical wooden gravestones, a simple cross with names burned into the surface. Amie broke into a trot, closing on the awful scene.  Her wings buzzed, and she lifted up into the air, high enough to get a look at what was happening.  Past the watching crowd of forlorn campers, a solemn group lowered something in a sleeping bag down into a hole. Most were the bigger bugs, camp staff and counselors. But a few smaller ones joined in, settling their dead friend to the ground. Amie didn't need magic to feel the caul of overwhelming hopelessness on this crowd.  She didn't stay in the air long—Amie wasn't even really sure what she had done exactly. Besides, staying up would make her more of a target, and it meant she had to watch the awful event more closely. No one reacted to her at the back of the group. There were so many other bugs that she could blend in easily. Eventually someone stepped up, onto a few heavy wooden crates. Albrecht looked out at the crowd. When he spoke, it was over the ropes course PA. He must have a mic clipped to that shirt somewhere. "Citizens of Stella Lacus. Days like this are a kind of pain none of you should have to face. When you leave here, do so with the confidence that it will soon end. Our hunting is improving, and we have hope of resupply from Pachu’a’s hunters. I know it seems hard, but keep going. Tend to your duty, and we'll survive the winter. Any who wish may remain here and help bury Halley. The rest of you are free to return to your work." The crowd began to disperse, scattering into many cliques and many directions. Amie saw some of her own bugs in there, but didn't try to rejoin them. Instead, she kept her focus on Albrecht, watching him set off with a small group of other bugs. She followed, cutting across the crowd.  It was time to talk to the leader of Camp Stella Lacus.