A. Colucci - The Colony

“I blew it? You’re the one who ran off to the desert. Besides, it didn’t take you long to get over me and move on to the next guy.”

“Are you talking about Jeremy?” Her cheeks flushed. “That was a corporate merger.”

“It was a merger, all right. The ant community is pretty small, Kendra. You had an affair.”

“It’s not an affair when your divorce papers are sitting in the mailbox.”

Paul was getting mad. “Can you forget about yourself for a moment?” he shot back. “We’re having a little problem here with some very scary insects.”

Kendra let out a bark of laughter. She had already decided she wanted no part of this charade. It had been her view for quite some time that the world was going to hell and she had no intention of wading into the mess. National politics over oil, taxes and health care had reached the brink of insanity. Global warming. Genocide. Jihad. A neglectful husband. Mutant ants from hell sounded like just another man-made catastrophe.

“I understand you’re angry,” he said, trying to sound calm.

“ Angry?” Kendra was fuming. “Why would I be angry!” She snatched up a specimen jar and the tiny ant braced itself. “I’m in the desert counting ants when Agent Double-O Psycho nabs me, only to find out my ex-husband—”

“I didn’t think you’d come,” he cut in and swiped the jar from her hand.

“You were right!” Kendra picked up a test tube and flung it across the room. It smashed into the wall.

“Oh, that’s real mature,” Paul said.

There it was. The same patronizing tone she despised. Kendra picked up another test tube and tossed it like a Frisbee. The sound of shattering glass had no calming effect at all.

“ Jesus, Kendra. You’re a scientist, for chrissakes.”

She answered with a defiant poke to his chest. “I was about to make the greatest breakthrough in modern entomology. Save billions of dollars in lost crops, not to mention a dozen lives a year!”

“What about the lives right here! There are seven people dead already.”

Kendra stiffened and the shouting match came to a dizzying halt. The words spun in her mind but could hardly register.

“Listen to me, Kendra!” Paul was all at once reeling. “This species is like nothing we’ve ever seen. It’s a freaking horror show. The mayor wants this thing quiet and I can’t do this without you. ”

Kendra let out a shock of air. “Can’t do this without me?” Even under the direst circumstances, it wasn’t like Paul to call in the cavalry. He had made his mark with the contributions of extremely bright minds in science but he never, ever, asked for volunteers. Kendra picked up the specimen jar and addressed a small fire ant. “What have you done with the real Dr. O’Keefe?”

“Okay,” he admitted. “I’ve been a jerk. Too busy unlocking the secrets of the ant world with my own brilliant thoughts to consider anyone else’s.” His expression turned earnest. “I’ve changed, Kendra… and yes, I’m asking for help.”

She wanted to make a run for it, let him know what it felt like to be abandoned. But there was no denying that a huge crisis was lurking and her professional ethics told her that desertion wasn’t an option. “Maybe you have changed,” she said with a reluctant shrug. “So, let’s see these monsters.”

Paul appeared to spring back to life, keenly adjusting the microscope settings, moving with his usual flair. He was in his element and Kendra was slightly amused. “It’s really quite fantastic what they did with this crossbreed. They’re genetically altered to be bigger, faster, deadlier.”

Kendra peered through the lens and her eyes widened in disbelief. “What the hell is this thing?” she gasped. The strange mutant head was tilted up, enormous mandible spread open in a roar.

He threw out his hands. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

She flipped the microscope to “view” and the ant image lit up on the adjoining monitor. The body was similar to any worker ant’s; thin, oblong and segmented with six multijointed legs, but it was abnormally long, over an inch. The head was tremendous and skull-shaped. “A face only a mother could love,” she said and scanned the entire body at highest resolution. “The exoskeleton has properties I’ve never seen. That’s some suit of armor.”

“Indeed it is. I broke down the chemistry and found an enormously active enzyme similar to laccase-two.”

She arched a brow. “Interesting.”

The laccase-2 gene had been studied by entomologists for decades. Research showed that the enzyme was responsible for hardening the cuticles of newly molted beetles, providing remarkable strength and flexibility. The discovery was leading to a deeper understanding of insect defenses, as well as the development of numerous commercial products, such as football helmets and lightweight shields for aircraft and military armor.

“Laredo must have figured out a way to supercharge the protein. The exoskeletons can be crushed with some effort, but pesticides flow off like water on a duck’s back. Therefore, you’re correct—toxins are out of the question.”

“So what are the Three Stooges doing here?” she said, referring to the men in black.

Paul averted his eyes. “I gave them all contracts—before realizing what we were dealing with.” There was an uncomfortable silence. “Pesticide companies have a place in science, Kendra. Why do you always make them out to be the bad guys? You can thank a dozen insecticides for helping to feed half the world’s population, which would go hungry—”

She let out a disgruntled breath, annoyed they were still having this same conversation.

“All right,” he said, gesturing defeat. “It was wrong.”

Kendra looked satisfied enough and returned to the specimen. Even with calculation tools built into the scope, measuring ant parts was exceedingly difficult, but she was a pro and rattled off each astonishing number to the smallest micrometer. However, sheer size was not the only puzzle.

“The gaster—that’s a lot of venom.”

“You’re right, and it’s highly concentrated. A couple of hits could blind a person.”

“The claws are unusual. Looks like three hooks instead of two, like a thumb or something.”

“Better grip,” he replied. “Just like Siafu, they build intricate bridges. Millions can link together like cables spanning a hundred feet. Plus, they’re fast. Based on their locomotory behavior and morphology, I estimate they can hit speeds of eight miles per hour.”

“So they can outrun most humans.”

“It’s just a theory at the moment. Along with my calculation that they can chew through leather.” He tapped a pencil point toward the image of the head. “Take a look at those jaws. They spring shut at two hundred and forty kilometers an hour, which is by far the fastest body limb movement of any creature on earth. We’re talking about a bite force of nine hundred times their body weight.”

Kendra focused on the mandibles and inner mouth, where two long spikes protruded from each side like black sipping straws. “Are these stylets?”

“Ah. Now we come to the scary part.” Paul leafed through autopsy reports until he came to a photo of a dead schoolteacher. He frowned over the image, rubbing his beard. “The ants are depositing some kind of chemical into the body that produces a heinous reaction. It acts like a digestive enzyme but it moves through the bloodstream like a deadly virus. Looks more like Ebola than ant venom. Shuts down the organs, ravages the brain, capillaries disintegrate. Finally the internal system just dissolves.”

“So, you’re saying these insects liquefy their victims?”