Daughter of the Empire

The lead cho-ja returned the salute. As he moved, Mara saw how his body was segmented, a larger rear thorax with four three-jointed legs and a smaller upper thorax, roughly comparable to a man’s torso, with two almost human arms. His flesh was encased in chitin, and each forearm possessed a natural ridge that appeared as sharp as a sword edge. Upon his head he wore a helm of obvious Tsurani manufacture. The face within was oval, with large multifaceted eyes above two slits where a nose should be. The cho-ja’s jaw and mouth were surprisingly human in appearance, though his voice was singsong and high-pitched. ‘I am Ixal’t, Force Leader of the Second Command of hive Kait’lk.’

 

 

‘Now I remember.’ Keyoke relaxed fractionally, as if in the presence of an old acquaintance. ‘You served during the invasion of the Thuril Highlands.’ That explained how this cho-ja recognized Acoma colours. He motioned Mara to his side. ‘This is our Lady of the Acoma. She has come to negotiate with your new queen.’

 

Eyes like faceted metal flickered briefly over the girl at Keyoke’s side. Then the cho-ja executed a fair imitation of a human bow. ‘Welcome, Lady. Your arrival is timely. The new warriors are restless. This hatching is abundant and we are crowded. You may pass, and may your gods bless this bargaining.’

 

The cho-ja moved nimbly aside and allowed the Tsurani party to continue up the trail. Mara was curious about the unexpected expertise of her Force Commander. ‘Keyoke, I didn’t know you understood the cho-ja.’

 

‘I know their soldiers, as much as any man can. I served with some, many years ago – when your grandfather led many houses in battle against the Easter Confederation.’ If the old campaigner felt his years, he did not show them, ascending the difficult trail with hardly a sign of exertion.

 

“The cho-ja seemed to welcome us with good grace.’

 

‘Mistress, those were old, disciplined soldiers upon the ridge,’ Arakasi cautioned. ‘Keyoke was correct in addressing their officer. But from now until we reach the hive we must be wary. Many young warriors have been hatched to protect the new queen as she travels. These will be undisciplined and aggressive – quick to provoke to violence until the young queen is safely within the earth of her new hive.’

 

Keyoke cleared a thorn branch from the path. ‘You speak as one who knows the cho-ja, Arakasi,’ he said.

 

The Spy Master avoided the branch as it swung. ‘No man knows the cho-ja. But I once hid from Minwanabi assassins for a week in a cho-ja hive. I learned something of them. It is my nature to ask many questions about things I do not understand when the opportunity presents itself.’

 

Mara was intrigued. Even when the ground became suitable for travel by litter once again, she remained afoot. ‘Tell me of the cho-ja, then, Arakasi. What are they like?’

 

‘The older ones are as ordered as the seasons, Lady. The young are unpredictable. They are hatched in a creche. A dozen lesser females, called rirari, do nothing but lay eggs.’ The term was archaic Tsurani, meaning a second-level queen, or duchess. ‘But the eggs are infertile. The queen swallows them whole and passes them through a chamber in her body which fertilizes them, and more.’

 

‘More?’ asked Mara.

 

‘By some cho-ja means, as the queen is being serviced by a breeding male, she determines the sex and function of each egg, or leaves it sterile. At least, this is what I have been told.’

 

‘They can choose these things?’ wondered Mara. ‘Tell me more.’

 

‘Male cho-ja are roughly divided into three groups: the breeders, the workers and the soldiers. The workers are either clever or strong, artisans or beasts of burden, depending on what the hive needs. The soldiers are both strong and clever. The breeders are stupid, but they have only one task, to mate with the queen.’

 

Arakasi glanced aside and saw that Mara still listened raptly. A few of the nearest soldiers paid heed to the Spy Master as well. ‘Once the queen takes residence in the royal chamber, she never moves. Workers constantly feed her, while she is passed eggs by the rirari and serviced by the breeding males. Each one mates with her for hours at a time, until near exhaustion, when he is replaced by another. You will see when we are presented to the old queen.’

 

‘Fascinating.’ Mara paused, a little breathless, for the trail had grown steep once again. ‘What of the young?’

 

‘There is much I do not know of the females,’ Arakasi admitted. ‘But as immature cho-ja, all males are free to play and grow, much like human children – except that one day these young cho-ja are sporting about like needra calves and the next they awake, knowing their time to serve has begun. Only when a new queen is born are the soldiers hatched and hastened to maturity. This makes for an aggressive, unpredictable warrior, I’m afraid. They are quick to anger, and only the new queen can command them to instant obedience.’

 

Arakasi fell silent, for the trail crested a small rise, to cut sharply downwards into a valley tucked like a fold between hills. Through the arched boughs of a matched pair of ulo trees, they saw a sun-warmed meadow. The grass grew emerald, too meticulously clipped to be natural.

 

Arakasi pointed. ‘The hive lies ahead, beyond those trees.’

 

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