A. Colucci - The Colony

“Or we may be jumping to conclusions,” Paul rubbed his beard, looking doubtful. “Hopefully those reports tomorrow—”

“Reports?” Kendra scoffed. “Reports are crap. The only way to destroy ants is by killing the queens.” She walked into the closet and emerged with two Bug Out suits, tossed them on the table. “That means we have to go find one.”

“Too dangerous.”

“Same old Paul.” Kendra sighed. “Try to think back to the actual work you did before you traded in your hiking boots for Italian leather.”

Paul’s voice was steady, but the tips of his expensive shoes retreated beneath the table. “Field study without research is kids stuff, Kendra. It’s just playing in a sandbox.”

“Well, I’ve been killing off colonies in that sandbox.” Kendra let out a breath of frustration. “Paul, listen to me. I’ve discovered a combination of pheromones that entices the workers into killing off the queens, and then killing off each other.”

“Really?” he asked, sounding only slightly interested. “Pheromone manipulation is hardly new. It’s fraught with inconsistencies.”

“It works, Paul. I focused on the queens’ chemicals instead of the workers’, and the entire colony responded. We wiped out nearly a dozen colonies in four months.”

Paul’s expression told Kendra he wasn’t quite convinced.

“I’m pretty sure if we can find a queen by daylight, we can create enough synthetic duplicate to blanket the city and destroy the ants in two or three weeks. Maybe sooner, if we get Jack and the USDA involved.”

He narrowed his eyes, mulling over the proposition.

“Are we here to kill ants or what?”

“Of course,” Paul replied. “And I’d be more than happy to try your experiment, but capturing a queen is harder than finding a beetle in a haystack.”

“Do you have any other ideas?”

“Actually, yes.” He checked his watch. “We have a meeting right now with someone who might be able to locate those queens for us.”

“Who’s that?”

“Jeremy Rudeau.”

Kendra was shocked. “Oh, Paul, you didn’t.”

“Don’t blame me. The army wanted Jeremy on this.” He sounded defensive. “You think I’d bring you two together myself? Hopefully he can add something useful to our efforts.” Paul was suddenly vexed and started for the door. He glanced back at Kendra. “Coming?”

She exhaled and walked with Paul to meet the man who had put the final nail in the coffin of their marriage.

JEREMY RUDEAU HAD ALL the makings of a movie star. He was tall and broad-shouldered with high cheekbones that always looked sun streaked, a strong jawline and a mane of black wavy hair. His pale gray eyes picked up every color in the room like a prism and his deep baritone voice added nicely to the package. Yet it wasn’t just stunning good looks that sent Kendra’s heart pounding, as she walked into the conference room and found Jeremy talking to the mayor. Seeing Paul and Jeremy together felt like getting caught with her hand in a cookie jar.

Jeremy paused midsentence and stood to greet them, extending a hand. “Paul, so good to see you.” He noticeably brightened and said, “Kendra, I didn’t realize you would be here as well. That’s wonderful, wonderful.”

He leaned in to kiss her. It was the casual cheek kind, but she noticed Paul straighten. Kendra was well aware that Paul and Jeremy had been bitter rivals since prep school. At Georgetown they had competed in fencing and the debate team. At Harvard, they became associate professors of entomology and vied for department chair. They wrote scientific papers disproving each other’s theories. However, their biggest rivalry by far was Kendra. She had been dating Jeremy when she fell hard for Paul.

“Glad you could make it.” Paul’s voice sounded strained.

“Too happy to help, really. This is the craziest thing I ever heard.” Jeremy took his seat. “I was just about to explain the fundamentals of swarm intelligence to Mayor Russo.”

The mayor waved a dismissive hand. “No offense, but you’re a computer guy. How do you plan to kill real ants?”

“While it’s true I haven’t chosen the same route as Paul, studying ants down in the dirt,” Jeremy smirked, “I am quite a shark at catching them. Or so I’ve been told.”

“Don’t be so modest, Jeremy.” Paul’s voice was laced with sarcasm. “You’re by far the leader in the field of ant tracking.” He turned to the mayor. “Jeremy uses computers to make simulated ants so he can figure out where the colonies nest. Sort of like a computer game developer. Really, he’s the best in the business.”

Jeremy smiled, seeming unaware of any mockery. “I don’t know about that, but my company has had great success in all areas related to swarm intelligence.”

“Swarm what?”

“Let me explain.” Jeremy leaned in, his hands moving gracefully, accentuating each word. “The amazing thing about ants is that they have no leaders, no manager, no one giving orders. Yet they’re able to accomplish all the complex tasks of a highly developed community, like food gathering, cleaning and defense. It’s called self-organization and it’s a concept that’s hard for humans to fathom. Just imagine a football team with no coach, a ship with no captain, an army with no general. So how do they do it?” Jeremy held a dramatic pause. “Through a highly efficient method of chemical secretions called pheromones. ”

“Pheromones,” the mayor repeated. “I knew that.”

“Sure. It’s a Greek word meaning ‘carrier of excitement.’” Jeremy grabbed a pen from his shirt pocket and began drawing visual aids to illustrate his point. Kendra noted it was the silver Montblanc she had given him as a birthday gift years ago, and it made her feel edgy yet oddly touched. Inscribed down the barrel was a series of ones and zeros: 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01101011 01100101 01101110 01100100 01110010 01100001. Binary code for “Love, Kendra.”

“Ants communicate thorough odors,” Jeremy continued. “For example, an ant finds food and returns to the nest, leaving a tiny scent on the ground.” He marked the paper with dots and arrows. “The smell leads other forager ants down the same trail, which they reinforce with new markings, making it stronger. By repeating the process with many ants in many different directions, the best route to the food is found.”

Kendra leaned back in her chair, hoping to stay out of the conversation, all the while watching Jeremy’s sexy dimples blink on and off as he spoke. There was no denying the killer body, and although he had proven quite adept in bed, he fell short of all other expectations. She turned to Paul and his dark brooding eyes under thick lashes, large fingers quietly drumming the table. It was never a contest. Ever since she’d met Paul, no man seemed to stack up.

“That brings us to the term swarm intelligence,” Jeremy said. “By creating algorithms based on ant efficiency, my company saves other companies billions of dollars. For example, we developed computer programs for the United States Air Force, modeled from ant behavior, which can figure out things like how many drones are needed to swarm an area and take out ninety percent of the targets in half an hour.”

Russo looked impatient. “That makes sense from a technology standpoint, but how can it solve our problems with real ants?”

“Let me tell you,” Jeremy answered. “For the past twenty years, the global infestation of deadly ants has skyrocketed, so we’ve been using these computer programs to figure out ways to destroy them. Five years ago, a supercolony of fire ants in the Yucca Valley had grown to over a hundred and fifty miles long, all the way up to Bakersfield; cut right though Edwards Air Force Base. Using supercomputers, we modified the swarm intelligence programs to emulate the ants—all from data gathered by Kendra and her company, Invicta.”