Uniko For President

Part I

Mag sighed as she finished her breakfast of Honey Bunches, then trudged out into the passageway. As always, Abb was waiting for her. And today she was positively glowing with excitement.

“So about that rally this afternoon…” Mag began nervously as they made their way to class. “I’ve been thinking it over and I really don’t know if--”

“Mag, you promised!” her sister interrupted. “You have to come. Uniko herself is going to be there!”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” Mag muttered.

During dance class, she had a hard time concentrating. Ebs, the instructor, made her do extra rotations during the break.

“Remember, Mag,” Ebs intoned. “You really must focus on what you are communicating with your movement. Every movement has a purpose, tells a story. What message could you possibly be trying to convey with that drooping posterior?”

How about, “I’m confused,” or maybe, “I’m scared and have no idea what to do”? Mag thought to herself.

After class, Mag reluctantly agreed to meet Abb ten minutes later in their secret spot.

This was all incredibly dangerous, and if it had been any other time of year, Mag would have refused to go to the rally. It was too cold outside to go foraging for food though, so no one would be monitoring her comings and goings after class. And Abb had always come through for her, so she at least owed her this much. Mag decided she would attend the rally and then refuse further involvement.

Anxiously, she slipped through the dark passageway and felt her way to the meeting place. She waited for a long time. Too long. Where was Abb? Something was wrong.

After a while, she became aware of a faint buzzing sound. It grew louder.

Someone was coming.

The noise increased until it enveloped her in a deafening roar. She knew she was surrounded. She felt the cell begin to heat up. She started to struggle for air, and knew it was no use.

Curse you, Uniko! she thought bitterly, the heat overwhelming her. Despite all your promises, all you do is divide us and get us killed.

Ironically, as she took her last gasps of breath, she thought only of the waste of all of this on her. They should have been using their energy to warm the winter passageways, not to kill her. She was only a lowly worker.

I will be faithful… she recited in her mind as she faded away. I love our way of life, our harmony. I will always serve LaReyna...

*************

And then she came to in a small, hexagonal cell. Abb was leaning over her.

“You’re awake!” her sister cried, embracing her.

“Yes…” Mag began, starting to get up, then noticing that they were not alone in the room.

Uniko.

“I am deeply sorry for what happened to you,” Uniko said. “Your valor will not be forgotten.”

“Uniko saved you,” Abb explained eagerly. “She saved you by starting a fire. When they smelled the smoke, they left for the storehouses to gather as much as they could in earnest.”

Mag shook her head and looked at Uniko. Little Worker Uniko, the cause of so much disorder and violence in the colony. “Just more proof that you are willing to destroy our home for your own purposes,” she said.

Uniko nodded. “I can understand why you might feel that way. I wish it weren’t so dangerous to meet together and that there were peaceful alternatives. But LaReyna makes that impossible. As my following grows, so does the danger, and thus the need to protect ourselves in any way we can.”

“For the record,” Mag said, rising, “I am not a part of your following. I was only coming with Abb as a favor to her. There is nothing your little rallies achieve except more disharmony among us.”

“Say what you will, LaReyna’s rule is unjust,” Uniko replied with increasing fervor. “She rules with tyranny. She kills those who oppose her. She forces all to be her slaves and works us to death. All for the good of the colony. The harmony of the colony. We should be able to make decisions for ourselves, to vote for a leader who will truly represent us. I won’t stop until I can make sure every single one of us is treated equally, with an equal chance to be something great and to choose our own destinies!”

“Save it for your rallies,” Mag said, lying back down. “Destinies! Hah!”

Part II

It had finally come: Election day.

Mag was still in shock that the day had come at all. Voting? Presidents? What would her grandmother have thought had she been alive to see this day? But, of course, she wasn’t alive. LaReyna’s workers had made sure of that.

Suddenly, LaReyna’s voice was deep and powerful in her mind. It pushed out all other thoughts.

Vote for me, it said. Vote vote vote for me me me.

And then the rich smells hit Mag. They filled up her cell. They were overpowering, overwhelming, intoxicating, inviting, delicious.

Of course you will vote for me. I have kept you safe. Given you a home. Provided you with food. I am your family. I provide order. Shelter. Love. I have allowed you this vote to show you that I truly love you and care what you have to say. We must rid ourselves of all doubt, all betrayal. We stand united…

Mag moved to cast her vote. Of course she would vote for LaReyna. She had kept her safe. Given her a home. Provided her with food—

Then Mag heard them.

“Unik-o! Unik-o! Unik-o for Pres-i-dent!” they chanted.

Snapped out of her reverie, Mag realized that the smells had lessened, dissipated. Fresh air wafted into her cell. She could think on her own again.

She voted.

*************

The results were in. Mr. L. Drone, a recent addition to the colony, was to tally them and make the announcement.

At the grand podium, Uniko at his right hand and the magnificent LaReyna at his left, he read the final count.

“28,062 votes for the Grand Queen LaReyna,” he announced. “And 29,650 for Worker Uniko. Uniko is the new President, by vote of the people.” He then quickly, hurriedly, frantically, made his exit.

There was a long silence. And then LaReyna turned on Uniko and attacked.

It all happened so quickly, but in the end, there were two dead bodies fallen next to the grand podium. One was LaReyna’s. The other was lowly Mag’s, her stinger dislodged from her body and driven deep into the heart of the Queen.

Part III

March 13^th – Recorded observations of neighboring hive activity [as notated by Log Hive Reporter #43]:

“…The number of workers who leave Tree Hive in the morning seems to be smaller every day. When they do leave, they don’t seem to fly very quickly or to be headed in any particular direction.

The foragers we have observed also seem to take frequent rests—they are often found dozing in the West Red Long-Stemmed Patch in the heat of the day. (Such a decline in work ethic is puzzling now that the spring foraging season is here.) When questioned, they often use a perplexing word, DESTINY, as some kind of explanation for their behavior.

One observer recently reported a fight that broke out between two Tree Hive scouts. Two scouts on the same team.

It is even whispered by some that the Tree Hivers have stopped producing honey and are slowly starving to death. Sadly, there don’t seem to be any new workers in the hive to replace the old ones. Such a shame…”