The Colony: A Novel (11 page)

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Authors: A. J. Colucci

BOOK: The Colony: A Novel
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“They’ll hit all at once. Consuming a hundred thousand animal prey in just one night.”

“You mean people,” Kendra corrected.

“So let’s hope it doesn’t rain.”

Kendra folded her arms at the disturbing thought. “Rain. The tides. The sun. It could be any natural trigger.”

“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.

 

CHAPTER 15

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.”

Uh-oh, here it comes.
Kendra slumped in her seat as Jeremy threw her a wink.

“Invicta has been supplying us with statistics on fire ants for years. We studied and analyzed video, charts and graphs, every piece of data from Kendra’s field studies, then created millions of computerized ant models based on things like behavior, soil, weather, geography—
mating habits,
” he said, raising a brow.

Kendra could feel Paul glaring at her. She wanted Jeremy to
just stop talking,
so she blurted out, “Ants are very predictable in their habits. We were able to figure out which direction they would travel, colony size and, most important, the location of the nests. At that point we were able to dig up the queens.”

“Kill the queen and you kill the colony,” Paul said, looking at her.

“In other words,” Jeremy said, shooting Paul a glance, “know your enemy and you can destroy him.”

“Well, that is rule number one in the military,” Russo replied.

“Exactly,” Kendra said. “So using Paul’s DNA samples and Jeremy’s supercomputers we might be able to figure out the locations of the Siafu Moto nests.”


Might,
” Paul stressed.

“Still, even if you find the nests,” the mayor reasoned, “what good will it do? You said these ants are indestructible.”

“Nothing is indestructible,” Jeremy said. “It’s just a matter of finding the right method to kill a particularly nasty opponent.” His eyes lingered on Paul. “And of course, finding the right man for the job.”

“Or woman,” Kendra added. “I might be able to kill the queens with a technique I’ve developed. It has more to do with the manipulation of natural chemicals than creating a toxin. It’s sort of like tricking the colonies into suicide.”

“Is that right?” Russo asked. “Paul didn’t mention it.”

“Paul isn’t too familiar with research outside his own,” Jeremy said. “But Kendra has already killed off quite a few colonies with this method. It’s very promising, very promising indeed. I’m certainly going to incorporate it into my business practices.”

Kendra could almost feel Paul steaming, and suddenly wished she hadn’t kept Jeremy so informed on her progress—but then quickly reconsidered: Why shouldn’t she tell a colleague about her work when he was so interested, so
supportive
of her efforts?

The mayor turned to Jeremy. “You said that colony of ants you found was a hundred fifty miles long. What did you call it, a supercolony?

“That’s right,” Jeremy answered. “And we’re looking at the same behavior in our New York variety. The largest supercolony ever discovered is a single colony of Argentine ants that stretches through Italy, France and Spain and then spans thousands of kilometers throughout Japan and California.”

“Across continents?” the mayor asked, surprised.

“Yes. When scientists put the Argentine ants together with any other species, they fought to the death, but when they put the European variety with the species from Japan and California, they acted like old buddies. Even though they were separated by vast oceans, they had formed a global supercolony.”

“Ants wear a waxy substance that they can smell on each other,” Kendra added. “It’s like those ants in Europe, California and Japan were all walking around in the same team uniform.”

“So these ants could technically spread across the nation, and the world.”

“Technically, yes,” Jeremy said.

“It’s even more frightening than you realize,” Paul warned. “A supercolony is genetically homogenous. They recognize each other and cooperate with each other, and they kill off all the native insects in the area. From what I’ve discovered in the past few days, these ants are doing the same thing. Not just annihilating rats and people, but every living creature they come in contact with.”

“Is that so?”

“Actually,” Kendra said, “if we hope to kill the colony with pheromones, a supercolony might be easier to hit as a single unit.”

“Especially if I can locate the nests,” Jeremy added.

The mayor looked skeptical. “In my day, a bug crawled by and got the old boot stomp. But if you think this computer stuff might work against these freaks of nature, then you have my support.”

Jeremy nodded with confidence. “It certainly can’t hurt.”

The mayor stood up, stretching an ache in his back. “Paul, can you stop by my office? I’ve got these confounding lab tests from all over the world that I’m anxious to unload.”

“Sure.” Paul gave Jeremy a weak nod and followed Russo out the door, not even glancing back at Kendra.

She wanted to follow Paul, but her legs felt like rubber. On top of that Kendra was hungry, starving, actually, and exhausted. It was hours since she’d devoured a small bag of pretzels and her blood sugar was in the basement. She longed for a shower, a nap and a serious conversation with Paul, but felt a pang of guilt at such selfish desires while a citywide crisis was lurking.

Now she was alone with Jeremy. She watched him whistling and unpacking boxes and was certain no lack of comforts would ever stop him from saving the world. He could probably go for days without anything but a computer and some hair gel.

“So, what did they tell you about this new species?” she asked.

“Siafu Moto?” He chuckled. “They told me it was some kind of ecoterrorist experiment that escaped. Apparently all the research was destroyed, and if I breathe a word of this I’ll be thrown in prison.”

“You believe all that?”

“The prison part, maybe. The rest, who knows?” He pushed aside a box and sat down next to Kendra, smelling clean and faintly of musk. The back of his neck flushed, a reaction to being near her, and his deep voice dropped to a coarse whisper. “Been a long time since Bakersfield, Kendra. The desert is fine, but robotics is the future.”

“I’m sure you’re right.”

“It’s not too late to get back in. We really miss that brilliant mind of yours.” His fingers playfully flicked her short locks and he smiled as if pleased with the new look. “I miss you too.”

Kendra turned from his gaze.

“So, I guess you’re back with Paul,” Jeremy said, standing up and busying his hands inside the box again.

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