Our destination, the 43^rd city, was alive with frog calls.

They were loud, announcing, and nonchalant. Most of the ants couldn’t hear them, but I was different. Their croaks were mostly curses and funny pokes at each other, but there were also some matting calls. There were even a few warning cracks --‘grittits’ of anger-- when one frog tried to barge into another’s territory. However, barely once did they talk about the Kandaeians, the residents of the land; and when they did talk about them it was to appreciate their taste, rather than to worry about their presence. Some complained that the ants had an uncommon sweetness to them, and others marveled at the stinging pop they felt in the stomach.

It was a horrifying ordeal. Thankfully, none could quite hear them, and those that could hear couldn’t understand them. Otherwise, more than a few hot-headed soldiers of the 43^rd would have launched themselves into certain death.

My bafflement was short-lived, however. Our behavior toward our prey wasn’t any different from the frogs. We had simply come to a full cycle around; the predator was now the frog's prey.

Whatever the case, the frogs needed to be taught a lesson. Their presence spelled disaster for the city.

I looked at the wide fat tower of the 43^rd city, Nadaei-kandae-ji. It was a monstrous construction. Along with its ring of advanced posts, the city looked like a crown lost and forgotten, now covered in dirt and crem. The feeling it gave under the setting sun was lonely and sad. That made sense, for it, was once the epicenter of the termite movement, their mother city. Then they were chased out and Nadaei, the current queen took perch.

However, the rain had played a gruesome hand. The vegetation around was crushed underneath layers of silt, clay, and dirt. It even smelled different there. Worse were the signs of digging on the belly of the tower —tunnels and chambers ripped open to the display of the elements. The members of the delegation explained the moment as pure terror.

It was a frog’s doing.

They said the tower rumbled when the frogs clawed at its rain-soaked exterior and cried out in pain, sending the residents out to defend its body. And they hurled poison at the gigantic, slippery being, but to no avail. The frogs hide was tough, eyes resistant, and tongue a weapon of mass destruction. It swooped tens of soldiers with a single swish of its long gelatinous tongue, crushed them inside its throat before they could sting or bite, and swallowed them whole.

We weren’t even a match, announced a member of the delegation. The only thing in our favor was its inability to move when attacking and feeding. We timed our attacks while it ate our friends. The soldiers dug their mandibles into the beast's skin and took hold, believing they could win. Yes, it had killed many, but their death would not have been in vain if we had killed it, but the beast simply leaped away. It carried all those soldiers and dove into one of the larger puddles that formed after the rain. None survived.

That also gave us a chance, however. Star added upon sensing the falling morale. Their death wasn’t in vain, soldier. They scared the beast into hiding, opening the path that it had been holding. They also showed us that the frogs aren’t invincible. Something invulnerable wouldn’t have run away. If it can be hurt, it can be hunted, too. We just need to be patient. Our chance will come.

His words gave us the strength to see it through.

I couldn’t see the goliaths but I knew they were out there, hiding in wait for a small group to venture out of the city. It was no wonder the city was starving and had to spread its arms for help.

Star rounded us inside an advanced post, the one not far from the center. It was barely occupied by thirty sentries, all gloomy and tired. That changed when they saw us, first in dread and then in joy.

I greedily took in the pride and marvel the sentries released. It was energetic and full of positivity. I liked it.

The sentries welcomed us with old dried meat. I guess there was not enough fresh enough food to go around if even the advanced sentries didn’t have any. I was also offered the meat, but I rejected it. I had a fill of normal water, however. Not honeydew; I was not in the mood of having my mind refreshed —an effect of the sugary syrup. I wanted to be away from the bustles for the time being, to not be an active part of it.

Where are you going? 5555^th found me stalking away from the group and into the wide paths leading deeper into the post tower.
Nowhere. I told her, but she decided to follow me anyways. Whether she did it out of curiosity or need, I simply let her be.

There were more soldiers inside: Mostly injured and resting. They waved as we passed, some in glee and others in dread. There was light at the end of the tunnel. I wondered if we were reaching the other side of the tower, but that was not so. We exited into a huge dome-shaped chamber that was lit by a beam of light coming from an opening in the ceiling. Actually, there was no ceiling. The tower was hollow from the inside and I could see the sky from the bottom, though it was colorless to my eyes.

I was admiring the engineering marvel when 5555^th approached me. She was terrifyingly excited, a state I hadn’t seen anyone in.
Come quickly! She pulled me along to the side of the chambers, toward the walls. Either all females didn’t care about others opinion or I had really terrific luck. But what she had to show actually deserved haste.

The walls of the chamber were a creation of skeletons that shone under the radiance of the light beam. Hundreds of thousands of skulls stacked one over another, mandibles reaching out in wait and eyes glowing with light; it was a terrifying sight to behold.

We were talking amongst ourselves when a soldier of the 43^rd city —she was also staring at the wall— interjected into our conversation.

It is a monument of our victory over the termites. She explained in a feverish rush of pheromones. 5555^th pulled back when she saw her face. Her eye sockets were two hollows and face free of mandibles. Her Head was a canvas painted with scars, and there were three legs missing under a thorax horrifyingly shriveled. But the old and marred soldier continued unabated, showing no effect to our behavior. These termites fell in the one war of our dominance. We killed so many their bodies filled the pits, creating huge heaps of hollow skeletons and rotting bodies.

That’s why the pits are called trash heaps these days and not the pit. 5555^th told me with a touch of her antennae, while our guide continued. She was still stunned but also growing interested in the story.

It was a sight equally terrifying and awe-inspiring. The strange soldier scented, releasing a cocktail of emotions and pheromones, painting a picture full of hate and dread for a second. However, the termites proved to be a problem even after death. The scent of death was so strong it invited some special kind of predators from places far and wide —monsters of the night, terrors of the day— then started our second war.

5555^th looked concerned. What are you saying? There was no second war. We won against the termites and that was it!

The old soldier continued without a pause. There were suggestions to bury the bodies, but digging takes time, which we had very little; that’s when someone suggested using the carcasses as building materials, which led to the creation of the legacy towers around the city. It also stopped the mutants.  

I felt 5555^th shudder at the cold revelation. I was in the same situation.

It was all news to me, but I found it a great tale to tell Princess after getting back. She would be surprised for sure. Though she might also want to visit these skull towers and hold it against me for coming alone. But she wasn’t petty enough to hate me for it.

Just how many were killed in the war!
The old soldier finally took note of us. Millions, She answered.

It was no wonder the termites wanted revenge. But I was more interested in the present, particularly the giant monument of skulls.

The old resident soldier guided us toward a part of the wall where a map of the territory had been created by leaving gaps in the skull placements. An unusually large skull with bulging cheeks and a thick set of mandibles denoted the main spire. It wasn’t the skull of a termite. Six similarly obtuse skulls surrounded the larger one, denoting the wells that kept floodwater from reaching the city. Everything was connected by twisting lines of smaller skulls and long passes: the drainage lanes and flow breakers carved in the area around the city.

Our guide told us the history of the city, the struggle that happened inside the long pass. The termites trapped our army at the well and bombarded them with stones. Many died there, but the angry troops made a relentless push through the snake trenches, killing thousands of termites on the way and raided the city. It took us three days to get through, but the result was worth it. The city fell the very day we raided.

You were there, weren’t you? I asked her.
Yes.
Do you think the termites are capable of opening the front in two directions?
She shook her head in pure disgust. They can do anything. There was a time when they even played the victim of their own cruelty. She said, but also read me like a gust of wind careering through her branches and leaves. Why do you ask?

5555^th placed an antenna on my abdomen, asking me to think before acting. I thought and found nothing wrong with sharing the information. I was in the middle of telling her the story when she interrupted me.

Lies! She scented a powerful blast of pheromones. I swayed. 5555^th held me form the abdomen and pulled back, getting some distance between us.
They aren’t back. They can’t be back! We killed them. We did. She fidgeted nervously, antennae swaying. You are lying. She released and rushed toward us. Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned the story. 5555^th agreed with a tap my back.

A few soldiers hurried into the chamber following the commotion and subdued her. They apologized for her actions and snaked her away into the shadowy circuits, vanishing behind the support pillars without explaining the cause of her distress or giving us a reason.

5555^th asked to leave and befuddled as I was, I couldn’t stay there any longer.

***

We returned to the main hall only to find Star in a heated discussion with our troop leader, the royal captain of the harvesters.  

Captain 2K waived at us from near the end of the chamber where the rest of our team was also gathered. The hateful one shook her head at me when I drew closer. The similarity of her action to a termite’s response to danger made me leap back. She was taken aback by my reaction, and so was I.

What’s happening? 5555^th asked, and 344^th jovially accompanied us; well, he was more interested in her but was also loud enough to be heard from the other side of the shading world. I had no difficulty eavesdropping.

The two are arguing over the plan of attack. He told her. The delegation leader wants to fight the frogs as soon as we can, but our troop leader wants to wait for the next day when the frogs will be lethargic and sleeping. That way we should have an easy time picking them up, in theory.

He picked up on my confusion and further explained the reason behind the arguing. The frogs hide in the puddles and ponds during day time; so we can’t exactly attack them then either.

Water anyone? A worker asked. We all had a few sips before 344^th continued.

Another problem is the attack method. The delegation leader wants to go smack-dab, mandibles scathing and antennae rolling at the frogs. Our troop leader is against this. He called it stupidity. I personally prefer the burly scarred old soldier over our tight butt leader. He needs to learn to relax.

Yeah? And who’s going to teach him that —you? 2K and 344^th started playfully bickering, but the two leaders were so heated that their scents were reaching us at the back of the group that surrounded them.

Foolishly throwing ourselves at the frogs won’t accomplish anything.
I understand but is there another way?
You have to give us time to think.
We don’t have time! Star blasted the scent. He had had enough.

In my mind both of them were right. We needed to act while the frogs were still distracted. There was no knowing the amount of damage the frogs could cause if they attacked the city together. One frog had been enough to take a large bite out of the tower’s body. The city wouldn’t possibly survive a joint attack by them.

What we needed was a plan, to trap one of them away from the rest, and attack it from a relatively safe position; like what the termites had done in the story. If only we could trap the frog at the reservoir pit, too. I thought, maybe a bit too loud, because a few heads turned our way. It led to whispering among the soldiers, some agreed and others became excited. My damn broken antennae led to the start of our counter-attack.
I stared in nervous wonderment as the bare musing of mine fared its way through the gathering of soldiers and reached the middle of the circle where the two leaders were fighting.

What’s that? Captain Star reacted first, but they both stopped fighting at the same time. And to my dismay, the two somehow concluded that it was far too good a plan to ignore. They decided to repeat the past one more time. It didn’t take them long to figure out the guts and entrails of the plan once they stopped fighting and started thinking together.

We dispersed to gather supplies, filled our reserves with honeydew and water, and gathered once again, this time to act.

There you are. Star jovially scented and rushed toward me with a spring to his steps. He was waiting for me outside the main hall. His erect antennae showed his excitement.

This was what he wanted, and he was prepared.
 
There were no nervous jittering about him that I could observe in some of the younger soldiers, and even myself. He was jovial that his chance had come. Although the frogs still needed to be dealt with, he had brought help in time, and that was more than most could have accomplished.

He slammed an antenna on my back. It stung, but he was too happy to care.

You mad thinker! He blasted the scent into our surroundings without caring for others or our privacy. It almost caused an alarm, but his advisers expertly handled the situation. It didn’t even annoy them anymore.

He continued unabated, unperturbed, un —well, he was roaring to have a go at the frog.
Are you really a worker and not an adviser? One better than those foolish ones around me? Antennae turned, alright; let’s leave it at that.

It’s baffling. He lifted me in his mandibles and shook me like a dirt grain, before putting me back on the ground. He was not gentle. I was more surprised that it didn’t faze me.
Anyways, I know you joined the delegation to find a way o the 47^th city. I’m saying: I agree to take you there if you still absolutely want to go.

I do! I barely let out before he took over the conversation again.

That settles it then. (He could have said perfect, but he was in a hormonal frenzy. There is no stopping the reactions once they start. His advisers would have said that. But they are all about that precision.)

We’ll leave after we are done with the frogs. Well, that shouldn’t take long, because believe it or not, your idea or reminder —which it actually was— came at just the right time. Thanks to the recent rain, the water flow has deepened the pit enough that even the frog won’t be able to leap out of it, once inside. The last parts a problem, but we’ll brute force through it. Heck, I’ll drag them to the pit myself if I have to… His antennae shook. He had an epiphany. That’s not entirely a bad idea, either! He released and also let out amusement. It seems like we are on the right track! We usually would be repairing the lanes and the passes after rain —who knew the termite relic would help us like this?

Someone called him and he left me standing there in a daze. All around me soldiers were getting ready to go on war against frogs, based on the suggestion of someone who had never been at war even once. I think it was foolish, but no one wanted to listen to me! However, I had found a way to 47^th city. Now, I only needed to survive the mayhem. No big deal. How dangerous could the frogs be, right?

***

The wells dug around the 43^rd city tower allowed a constant flow of water down the drainage lines. They had giant constructions of dirt and pebbles called flood breakers surrounding them; both for around dampening the flood water and protecting the city beyond.

We were hiding behind these flood beakers, waiting for the residents of the city, the kandaenians, to bring the frog to trap. They had contested the harvesters for the position and won, saying it was their city and hence their responsibility. And Star led the party.

Because the city was so close to the river, important measures were needed to be taken to get through a flood. These flood breakers were one such measure. A ring of these fifty head tall walls surrounded the main spire with wells and lanes leading away from them. The city had no underground; so the measure was as much a need as it was a necessity.

It was a simple but ingenious method.

Our own adviser was explaining the hunt, stressing on the word to make the soldiers believe that we were the predator and the frog was our prey; just like always.

It won’t be any different. Just act your part and we’ll be fine.

The plan was to wait for the frog to get in the trap and then wash it down with poison. All of us were hoping that it would do the frogs in and we wouldn’t have to g into close combat with them, but you never know; hence the unease and anxiousness among the soldiers. They were prepared to take on termites and bugs slightly larger than. The frogs —if I had learned something from the damage to the tower city— were not common foes.

Our troop leader stood atop a flood breaker, facing west, to keep an eye on the frog’s movement. Every passing second punished us with dread, but it wasn’t long before the moment of truth came.

Get ready! Troop leader bellowed, the heavy scent chemicals rapidly fell and covered us. The order was echoed by every captain and in a few seconds, everyone was moving. The soldiers moved into a spread-out formation behind the wall, legs taut, and sprayer’s position above the head. The grounds rumble was the first thing I felt.

A prayer leaked from me and my companions joined.

The older soldiers hushed those panicking before they could leave a trace of their presence. It was important to keep our presence hidden. The frogs had to be kept in the dark, or it wouldn’t jump into the well. Each of us had left a trace of ourselves in the well to confuse the frog. The resulting scent masked, but it wouldn’t work if everyone panicked.

I couldn’t see them, but I could feel the grounds rumble. The frog was close, and getting closer with each leap. The ground thrummed with its leaps, and my heart thrummed along with it.

Don’t jump out. Don’t wander. We are together. We are a team. It’s won’t be easy. But we can do this! Our leader released from the flood breaker as the humongous frog suddenly appeared over our heads. I controlled my panic as it fell toward us. For a moment I thought it was going to crash amidst our lines and start killing everyone, but it didn’t.
The frog followed the scent.
The plan worked.
It crashed into the well!

There was a small quake, and a loud croak echoed inside the well. It cursed in confusion and from the horror of the confinement. It wasn’t expecting the well to be so deep!

A pheromone went out.

Attack!

Euphoria circulated in the air as soldiers noticed the feasibility of the plan. Their effort was being rewarded. They rushed out from behind the cover of the flood breakers and positioned themselves at the rim of the well. Abdomens pointed into its dark depths, they drowned the croaking frog in a hail of poisonous formic acid bullets. The bullets fired were absolutely lethal concoction off 100% acid. There was no water used. The frog’s skin was tough, and Star had already warned us against diluting the poison since their weak poison hadn’t worked on the frog.

Five hundred ants, all marksmen, and stingmen, especially chosen for the purpose of hunting the frogs, wildly emptied their arsenal into the dark well. Half a minute later, the frog’s croaking slowed to a long drawn out drawl. These were its dying breaths. The croak echoed in the well one last time before the frog turned silent.

Charge! A second pheromone rose and soldiers were rushing into the well, sunlight glinting off their exoskeleton like hope. We won! We had killed the frog! It was done. The city was saved!

No one noticed when a second shadow rose out from behind the cover of the flood breakers, or the wind it brought when it dropped toward us, or the panicked order that our troop leader had released.

A tongue flickered.

There was a snap and a group of our soldiers was gone, just like that.

Celebrations ended early as the second frog, this one twice as large as its predecessor, descended hard atop of the soldiers gathered near the well. They were instantly crushed. The gust of wind its descent brought blasted away all the scents and orders circulating in the air, leaving us orderless and dazed.

I saw a leg doing the deaths rattle, twitching without any control. A soldier headless body scrambled away from the site and crashed into the flood breakers. I saw one carrying another, but her abdomen was crushed. He didn’t dare admit that she wasn’t going to make it.

Retreat!

The alarm came far too late. Soldiers were retreating all around me, antennae quivering and legs shaking.

We had taken the battle to the frogs, and they had answered. Turns out, we were not ready for it.