Their secret was in their sauce.
The biggest baddest murder wasp was still no match for an unrelenting mutated ant colony of nearly any tribe. The show of force was staggering. From bottomless tunnels, the ant-formations raided the vulnerable nests of wasps and hornets. I recall a time during the war, I found a hornet the size of my thumb. Surely it wasn’t really that large. I polished the marble and granite monument as I did every day; I observed it slowly dying as a swarm of fire ants dissected it. I initially observed out of fascination at the size of the yellow beast. As my routine around the cenotaph carried; the swarm of ants grew larger. They were so small in comparison but their numbers, my goodness. Piece by piece and in single-file they carried the bits of the dying hornet back to their home.
This efficient productive ant-instinct didn’t change when they did. While the adult hornets could escape upward and attack downward before pulling away; the ants raided their nests and ate their young. Many species of hornet lay eggs in their prey; a stinky treat for a merciless hunter ant.
The bees too, grew larger. Meanwhile the honey made by the bees; as delicious and enticing as it was; caused the ants to stick to themselves and die. They very quickly learned to avoid bees. The heightened instincts caused by the mutations allowed them to sniff out and avoid bee hives altogether. As the ants grew larger; their instinct to avoid the pollinators remained.
There was a pocket of humans in the New-Northern Territory that learned this in time to build apiaries to surround their village. As the endless summer turned into an even longer winter; so too did the bee-village fall.
The bee species, though, thrived globally.
All of a sudden there was no more money.
Granted… one could argue that there hasn’t been any real money since we got off the gold standard. Social distancing lead to a ban on using cash; hard irrefutable un-hackable cash was no more. We had no choice but to choose one of the major banks that offered all of the hands-free bells and whistles.
Cryptocurrency thrived. Eventually the debit-card ‘tap’ evolved into a hand-wave. Your hand couldn’t touch the sensor, obviously, because virus. It was a wave. It could be an aggressive wave; a royal wave; a salute. As long as your chip was functioning, it was simply a matter of getting your hand close enough to gesture positively – throwing ones energy at the device in a complicit acknowledgement that the human race ended long before.
We are machines.
Perhaps too were the ants.
Some of the rebels held a belief that by removing their chip the ants couldn’t track them. For some it was the whole hand if haste was the flavour of the moment. To a degree they were correct about the chips; this being confirmed for me in the hereafter.
The ants could still smell us; but the radiowaves emitted from an individuals RFID chip were like a haze of warm apple pie ascending the stairs on a sunny mountain morning. The ants could trace where you’ve been like a rabid yet silent wild animal.
Gill Bates had a backdoor into everything. As did Snuckenberg and the entire patriot acting establishment. Their insistence that we adopt these things; as beneficial as they were; assured our destruction.
In philosophies of millennia past; money was a great evil. Ironic really that the removal of it in favor of a once obscure technology feared for it’s geo-tracking ability was precisely what would give the technological advantage to our insect predators.
More efficient money hastened our demise.
Who’d have thunk it?
We reached a time of such abundance and opportunity that we could invent an invisible system of social credit whose minutiae allowed our worst biological enemy to hone with electronically supported malice their violent contribution to our apocalypse.
Hunters with night-vision brutally chasing stinky meaty prey.
A right irony in Australia was the dominance of the emu after radiation worked it’s way through us. It grew as the ants did and was one of the few animals that thrived after the fall. Vicious bastards.