(1st person Pov)
People say that bees and ants are far superior to humans in terms of society. Their social lives have a connectivity that humans are simply unable to achieve. No matter how we struggle.
Colonies of ants will travel together, kilometers at a time, every last one down to the smallest of grunts should their home be compromised. Hundreds to thousands will die when they raft themselves aloft rivers and lakes to get across, their Queen standing high in the middle of the mass of ants protecting her.
Bees are far more connected than even the ants. Though their hive is smaller. They have a certain bravado among them that ants cannot match. Hornets come and go from the front door of a Hive. The bees will not bother with the hornet, they would have no reason to after all. However, once one of the hive is attacked, the hornet is baked alive by the rest of the swarm.
In nature, as in captivity are bees and ants so powerful in their perseverance, and solidarity.
This is exactly what had caught my eye when studying them. Though at the time I was but a college student. The Anthill, a facility in the northern hemisphere, situated in the Himalayas. This was where I conducted my research alongside my company.
I suppose that it was a pipedream, to think I could change the warring society that was Humanity. We were a violent species, quick to emotion and prone to attack those we do not understand, or feel threatened by. Naturally this meant that, although toxic the notion is, that we would come to fear ourselves as a whole. Humans against humans. It was a petty and vicious cycle, but one engraved in our genetic makeup. That is what I sought to change, and I looked to the smaller giants who could go further than us, I saw the potential in their genes and strove to harness them.
(3rd person Pov)
The Anthill was a research facility, where accomplished geneticists and scientists convened for the purpose of furthering humanity. That was what it seemed on the outside, at least.
In reality, ninety percent of research subjects were humans, taken off the streets and from orphanages and made into test subjects. Queen ants and bees could command their swarm by giving off pheromones to their subjects. It was how they were connected and controlled so efficiently. What Dr. B. Warne was attempting to do, was intergrate the ability of those matriarchs into human specimens, heeding them control of the colony. While some disagree, human being were similar to ants and bees, responding to a leader with absolute authority.
In this way he hypothesized that it could work, given enough testing. Things were going smoothly, almost too smoothly.
~•Present day•~
"Test subject 000, day 3541. Log 6393. As of late, the subject has been showing problems. Signs of voice loss are evident, as are spats of photosensitive epilepsy and mania. Treatment has already begun."
The middle aged man spoke into a recorder, watching through a glass pane as subject 000 was being injected with medication. Strapped down to a medical chair, was a girl no older than nine. Her hair was cut short, and raven in color. Her unconscious form was still, as machines hummed with the sound of their operation. Tubes and wires were connected to her back and arms, running detailed tests on her blood and the pipes in her arms, feeding medicine into her body directly. This happened once a day, and cold steel ports for those tubes sat in her back arms for simple access to her bloodstream.
"Nine years into testing with this subject, yet she shows none of the major mutations subjects 001 through 017 show. However, her main strand of DNA is particularly strange. The DNA from queen Bees has been assimilated properly, yet no mutations are occurring." His eyes lingered on her form, his brow furrowed with mirth.
"This has to work. Humanity depends on her. Benjamin Warne, signing off." He ended the recording and left the room. Inside the testing room, the tubes fed her blood back into her system and disconnected. Two workers wearing white scrubs and surgical masks came into the room, hoisting her onto a gurney they wheeled her to another part of the facility. A wide, hexagonal room with dim lights was illuminated as they came in, and put the girl down on the drab white bed and left.
She remained still for another hour, before she stirred and sat up, tucking her knees to her chest. Her blank, amber orbs scanned the room slowly. In her field of view was the same room she'd been in since she was three. A small bookshelf and desk was all she was allowed, and a meager collection of books to read. Though, at some point she'd read them all twice over. She grasped her aching throat, but her eyes remained blank and she touched the steel embedded in her arms, near her shoulder and in her bicep.
She was adorned in white, blank clothes. It was all they gave her to wear. They did not let the subjects interact with each other. A precaution against them plotting escape. She understood that when the room smelled of sugar and methanol, it was time for testing again. It was almost time for their monthly body examination. She touched the upper end of her thigh, feeling the scar there almost burn. She crouched near her bookshelf and took out a book, labeled Senior Entomology guide. She opened it to a page where she saw the familiar black and yellow Visage of bees. She had an idea, though it was farfetched, what they were doing, based on some conversations she had overheard before and after tests.
She closed the book and put it away, going to her bed. Her legs tucked under her chin and she held them close to her chest. Getting out of wherever she was could not be possible, from her perspective. She had only tried to leave once. And she was put into the White room. It was a simple, plain white room. No other colors in sight. That is what drove those who went in to madness.
It only took one visit to make her never want to go back.
~•24 hours later•~
It was time again to visit the testing and surgery room. She could tell they were coming, she could smell methanol in the air. Strangely enough however, the accompanying sweet aroma was absent. She already knew what that meant. They wanted her to be awake during the surgery, as all they were applying was an anesthetic. She would be rendered incapable of her motor functions soon, but would remain conscious.
Had she done something wrong? Normally that would warrant this treatment. But alas, never would they listen to the pleas of their subjects.
The book she held in her hand seemed heavy, and she closed it, setting it aside as the rest of her body lost its function and she lied down on her bed, awaiting the nurses to take her from the room.
Sure enough, minutes later the four inches of glass slid away into the wall and in came the nurses. They never once looked in her eyes and put her onto the gurney, wheeling her off to the surgery room.
As she predicted, she saw the middle aged man by the only window of the room as they entered the room. They put her down on the surgical bed and prepared for her upcoming surgery.
She saw him speaking into a device, though she couldn't hear him.
The man behind the window. That was all she'd known him to be for as long as she could remember. Two more doctors filed into the sterilized room and she knew it was time.
She only laid her head down and kept her eyes open, feeling them cut into her skin using the ever sharp scalpels. She could feel her flesh parting, but no pain was felt. It did not help her at all, since the feeling gave rise to an anxiety that she could not fathom nor understand.
She could only nervously glance down to her legs, which were just out of her view. She soon felt her arms being cut open as well, and small drills grinding against her now exposed bones. It was truly a psychological torture. All she could do was endure until it was over. Though she felt she would never forget the feeling.
She was right.
Her eyes met those of the man behind the window and she simply stared, and he gazed back at her. Dr. Warne did not know why it had stared so long at him, but offered a small wave of his recorder before he turned and left the observation room.
The tests were running smoothly, and subject 000 was surprisingly obedient. Soon enough his work would bear fruit.
The door to his office slid open as he trailed his usual path to the seat behind his desk. He opened his computer and checked the incoming results for his subjects 000 through 800. Groups C-3 and D-4 were experiencing harmful mutations and eventually will perish. He felt nothing for them and arranged for replacements for the hundred odd subjects he was bound to lose. He would have their caretakers take samples of their bone marrow and blood before they would liquidate. Better not to waste that possible information for the next generation of subjects.
The last result however, made his brow arch. Subject 000, it's DNA had rearranged in an odd pattern. He sent the information to his tablet and further sent it to the holo projector. Once he saw the 3d render of her main strand his breath caught in his throat.
~•32 hours later•~
Stitches felt odd.
She had surmised this after touching the twelve knots of surgical string on her arm. There were another pair of twenty three on both her thighs, sitting under the fabric of her thin pants. It was slightly difficult to lay down or walk now, but was of no true concern.
Her arms were seldom slightly sluggish from her post-surgery stitches, but once again it was little to be concerned with.
Her abdomen had also felt an odd sensation some minutes ago, after she had eaten. It was slightly warm and she had shivered quite a bit in the time it lasted. After she had relieved herself of fecal matter however, the feeling vanished.
She had noted all of these observations in a notebook that was conveniently in her bookshelf, though she knew little of what they meant or could mean in the future.
...her future?
What was her future going to be like?
All she felt, was the same empty nothingness that she felt every day, and so she had her answer.
Afterword.
Hey everyone! this is my first official novel on this platform, but I'm hoping some of you recognize me from Wattpad. But anyways,
I'm going to be updating in bulk from here on, so please bear with me as I'll be updating on a monthly basis. (for now of course)
If you are still reading, thanks! I'm going to need all the support I can get
Thanks for reading and stay foxy you beautiful babies!