//------------------------------//
// Chapter 87 
// Story: Don't Bug Me 
// by Starscribe 
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How many ways were there to build a nation? The planet she came from had its own infinity of answers, each one leading to dramatically different outcomes. But across all of human history, she couldn’t imagine any would resemble the path that she had ended up on now. No one had ever needed to build a city using a population of children all transformed into new bodies, given strange new powers that none of them fully understood. All the while, they were entirely surrounded by a population who feared and hated them. At the first sign of hostility, their host nation could decide to wipe them out completely. 
She had known this of course, and so did the Equestrian princesses who penned their treaty. They all knew the fundamental needs that must be satisfied to sustain the population, let alone give it a chance to thrive. This would be no accidental (or intentional) starvation. 
She could’ve kept everyone living in the mine shelter, which they had expanded in various ways since first colonizing it. But using it to defend against a raid had taught Amie an important lesson: bugs might like living down there, but humans didn’t. What she had were as much the latter as the former. But some things—like creating conditions for eggs to hatch—outright required building underground. They couldn’t just abandon their instincts and build houses again.
It was a little after the first snowfall—but eventually the last preparations were made, all the bugs were ready, and they were prepared to leave. It took most of the hive’s workers to carry her eggs, now swollen to at least twice their original size, into carefully-insulated train cars. Her bugs all took on the shape of ponies, griffons, and other creatures, then loaded into a series of trains bound for their new home.
Some small part of Amie still expected some terrible betrayal waiting at the end of the ride. Equestria had essentially arranged free labor to dismantle the camp, gathering all of its artifacts and useful material into carts. All they had to do was eliminate a few pesky bugs left over after the operation, and their presence in Equestria could be erased.
She had every reason to fear, after the way her bugs had been treated thus far. But this time—things were different. There was no horror waiting, only what the treaty required.
Even Amie wasn’t exactly sure what to expect when she arrived—certainly not what she found waiting for them. Equestria promised housing that could fit their needs and give them room to do their own expansion in the years ahead—and so they provided it.
The town of Maneport was located in a place so familiar to Amie, she recognized the shape of the river bisecting the city. She knew the old cobblestone streets, and those where more modern construction built towers that stretched higher and higher into the sky.
It was to one of those that her expedition eventually traveled, a towering hotel located more or less directly on the riverfront. Signs proclaimed the structure was the “Grand Dressage,” with windows stretching high into the sky, and all the hotel amenities one might expect. Importantly, it was also surrounded by new construction, all of which now halted. Some of the steam shovels, diggers, and mixers still parked in that empty space, waiting for crews that would not return.
“Seven hundred fifteen guest rooms,” Bon Bon said, as they entered the sprawling wooden entryway. The whole facility looked a little like it had been abandoned for a nuclear disaster—many of the accouterments of life remained exactly where their past occupants had left them. Hotel uniforms hung from hooks, while the occasional suitcase or saddlebags lay abandoned. A few stray cups of coffee remained on counters, no longer steaming. 
But the lights were on, and the floors were polished. “My letter from the princess told me it was the largest property they could find for sale on short notice. But it should match every other one of the treaty’s specifications. Plenty of other space to use how you want, room to expand and build whatever else you need. Access to water and electricity from Maneport, and deliveries of food that you may require.”
She said that last with a little trepidation, before flipping through the several printed sheets she carried and finally settling on one. “This arrangement you’ve made with the… Rent-a-Friend… I’m still unsure how you’re going to feed all these bugs. I saw what the conquerors did in Canterlot. There were a hundred times more of them, but… still. How much love can you send back?”
Amie continued through the empty lobby to the elevator. It was an old-style device, one with a simple up-down that required an operator’s constant presence. She stepped inside with her pony escort, then levitated the controls into the sharpest upward position she could.
The craft began its ascent, so fast that she briefly flared her wings in case she needed them to hold herself steady. But she didn’t—they were still enclosed in the protective shelter of the elevator.
“Changelings come in different tribes. I can’t tell you specifics about the others, but I know they eat different emotions. The ones who attacked Equestria were the Erovores—they ate love. We can eat it, but we can also eat lots of other things. Joy, satisfaction, hope, compassion…” 
She slowed as they approached the top, easing off the upward speed. The door was only a metal mesh, giving her a clear view of the top opening as they approached. Just like the mineshaft elevator in their old shelter, this device could easily be destroyed by improper operation. She would need to decide very carefully what kind of bug would ever have the chance.
“That doesn’t sound like any one emotion at all.” Bon Bon tucked her printed copy of the treaty under one leg, stepping off the elevator with her. “That just sounds like friendship. You eat friendship? Which means… anything you get from the Rent-a-Friend will feed you.”
The top floor was far less packed with rooms than the lower ones probably were. This section contained a few suites, spread along the walls. Amie would make her offices here, along with housing her most important staff. But as for herself—she would make her accommodations far lower, deep in the lowest sub-basement. And lower, as soon as her bugs got around to digging it.
“You could say that. But eating friendship—does sound a little like there’s nothing left when we’re done. I guess it could work like that, but it seems so… destructive. That’s like taking a fruit tree that’s still producing oranges every year and cutting it down to make firewood.”
She picked one door at the end of the hall, then unlocked its bolt with a little magic. Equestria had special unlocking spells, but why bother when every lock was its own physical device, with a mechanism of some kind that could be pushed open. The magic was simpler than any of those lock opening videos on YouTube had ever been.
Through it was a vast stateroom, well-appointed with luxuries and common necessities alike. Bright red carpet, a kitchen filled with old-style appliances, a sprawling sitting room and a grand piano.
We’ll need to go through this whole place and see what we need. Better to sell off the good stuff over time and collect the extra bits. We only need one or two places that look this nice. 
“I’m not sure how I should feel about that,” Bon Bon eventually said. “I guess it’s… good, that you don’t want to suck all the life out of a pony. You’re not monsters. But you’re still talking about friendships like they’re a resource. Oil wells to be drilled, mines to be tapped.”
“I wouldn’t pick those words exactly. But if you boil it down… friendships are a little like that for everybody.” Amie picked the largest picture window, looking out at the city beyond. The river outside was a single sheet of ice, broken only in the center by the fastest-moving flow. A powder dusting of snow covered every building, though the streets themselves were clear. A huge caravan of bugs surrounded this hotel, with campers and adult leaders alike waiting for her go-ahead to come inside and occupy the building. “Don’t you feel better after being around your friends? Don’t you want them to be happier, your relationship stronger? I know it worked that way before. It still does now, just—with some esoteric side-effects. Ponies don’t have to be worse off because they’re our friends. We can both win.”
She couldn’t keep them waiting for too much longer. Almost none of them weren’t wearing some kind of fur disguise right then—as much for the sanity of the city’s pony inhabitants as for their own. But fur or not, nobody liked standing around in the snow. Much less a population who watched their home get blasted and had to gather all the pieces with their own hooves.
“If it was that simple, I think bugs would’ve figured it out sooner.” Bon Bon followed her gaze, down at the milling camp. Of course, not all of Amie’s changelings were down there. Some remained with the Rent-a-Friend, both known and endorsed by Equestria’s authorities. Others carried their salvaged crates and wagons into the loading area beneath the hotel, where once they received fine furniture and rich food to cook for the wealthy guests.
Down there, where the pipes ran hot and the air was moist, she would make a new nest for her eggs. They would be hatching soon, after all. 
 It was a testament to the size of the structure, and the devastation they had suffered, that everything fit inside. “Why have no changelings tried living alongside ponies before? If they can take it without harming…”
Amie shrugged her wings. “Would you know if they had?”
Bon Bon had no answer for that. After almost a minute spent in silence, she turned to leave. “I hope you don’t mind if I make my office on the bottom floor. I’ve never cared for heights.” Then she was gone, leaving Amie alone with her thoughts.
And the occasional barking of the walkie-talkie. Finally, she levitated it up into the air in front of her. “Mona, start getting everyone in. Use the ballroom, which looked enormous. I don’t want anyone rushing off to try and claim rooms either—we’re going to be orderly about this. We’re using the system we voted on during the ride over. Anyone who tries to jump the line will get moved.”
The radio hissed, then Mona’s voice echoed in over the line. “Understood, Amie. Got some cold campers out here. Hope Equestria left the heat on.”
Amie should have headed down to meet them—but she lingered near the window. She felt something in the top of that tower—a pressure that held her in place, the anticipation of a gun not fired. Finally, a figure emerged from the darkness.
Natane, not wearing any pony disguise. Or walking around like a frightened drone, either. “Queen Amie—surrenderer. Occupied. Conquered by your enemies.”
Amie faced the bug directly. She opened both wings to full size, holding them ready. Not that there was anywhere to fly to. She saw no weapon in the queen’s magical grip, though that meant little. If she wanted to, Kaya could channel all kinds of incredible magical force through this drone. At range, the amount of raw power was quite limited—but the number of spells she knew was unrestricted. She might even be able to kill a queen.
“I don’t think of it that way. I wrote the treaty. I asked for this, and they gave it to me. Explain how that makes me conquered?”
The drone buzzed her way over, landing on the carpet a few feet away. She looked up, baring sharp teeth at Amie. “Don’t give me that, queen. You know the truth as well as I do. You’ve sacrificed obscurity completely. The ponies know your every movement. They know the position of your hunters; they know your intention for the city. There is no plan you can make to escape them now. They’ve given you a well-crafted cage, but it is still a cage. You crawled right into it.”
Amie met her eyes, unblinking and defiant. “I knew the risks. I knew what might be waiting for us here—but consider the opportunity. Equestria will allow my hunters into every major city. Under some supervision, granted. But I don’t know why that would upset me. We’ll soon have more glamour than we know how to spend. Glamour we could trade with your tribe. We may be few, but we may soon become rich. Equestria has no idea how much glamour is required, or how fast a genuine friendship can produce it. Don’t you think that’s worth the risk?”
“Worth becoming their slaves?” Natane asked. “That is the choice you have made. Not today, perhaps—not tomorrow. But eventually. Something will change, and their guilt will be replaced with revulsion. I hoped my involvement could spare you this pain. But here you are, digging deeper and deeper until there’s no salvation for you. Why couldn’t you listen?”
“I heard you fine, Queen Kaya. And I’ve been grateful for your advice at every step. But I cannot agree. You’re determined to see Equestrians as primitive, dangerous enemies. I think they can be our friends.”
“And I think your tribe is doomed to a slow, agonizing death,” the queen replied, laughing. “We will see which of us is right.”
Amie waved her off, and vanished down a hall. There were more important ponies to talk to now. If she remembered the schedule right, Ivy’s train from Canterlot should be arriving about then. They had a lot of catching up to do.