Wasp Season

by Jennifer Scoullar

  Within the colony, the royal brood chambers swelled with the precious kings and queens who would form the next generation. Some advanced larvae lay already pupating, their molecules magically reassembling themselves into adult form. The colony now contained thousands of individual insects, each going about their own business in an apparently random way. But this was a well-organised chaos, mysterious communications between hive mates allowing for the nest to function as a single living organism.

  The Honeybee population was also on the rise. With increased numbers came an additional pressure on Aureole and her sisters to provide a continuous and plentiful food supply for the hive. Foraging for nectar amongst the withering blooms in Beth’s wasp infested garden was now too dangerous for the Honeybees. They were forced to search increasingly further afield, venturing to harvest the rich bounty provided by the flowers of the towering Eucalypt forests surrounding Beth’s property. They joined the throng of other nectar-feeding insects and birds attracted to the lofty blossom-covered canopy.

  Aureole was now six weeks old and middle-aged for a Honeybee. During the busy summer season, the bees often worked themselves to an early death and she could probably only expect to survive for another two weeks or so before her wings became too tattered for her to fly. A wing-damaged worker, unable to return to the hive after a days foraging, soon fell victim to predators, or to cold and hunger. Still, for now Aureole remained productive and healthy, enjoying her soaring flights into the canopies of the giant Mountain Ash and Messmate forests. For a time, these proved to be relatively safe places, shared only with stingless native bees, Pollen wasps, butterflies and Honeyeaters. But just recently, the European wasps had also discovered this rich resource high in the tree-tops. They were present in ever-increasing numbers, dining on the nectar and preying on the other insects. However for now there was still plenty of food to go around.

  Aureole checked her pollen baskets once more, and deciding that they were full, set off for home. Momentous developments were afoot in the hive, and she was determined not to miss any of the excitement. Two weeks ago, an important turning-point was marked in the history of the Honeybee colony. Swarming Day. Up to half of all the workers in the hive, having gorged themselves on honey for days, began to leave. Of the thousands departing, none would ever return. They were joined by their queen. Over the past few weeks she had almost ceased egg production. Her once bloated body was now trim and ready for travel. Some mysterious motivating force propelled the old queen to abandon her nest and join her restless daughters on their flight into the unknown.

  They flew for an hour or more, before the bees leading the swarm settled on the branch of a tall Black Wattle tree growing on the edge of a forest clearing. Soon the rest of the adventurers joined them, including the old queen. They formed a large, seething ball of bees and remained like this for more than a day. During this period of time, the scout bees flew off in various directions, searching for suitable new homes for the swarm. When a possible location was discovered, the scouts returned and danced to advertise their find. Other bees followed their directions and flew to investigate the new accommodation. If impressed, they returned and voted in favour of the potential new nest-site with their own dance of approval. It was all extraordinarily democratic and the decision was not made hastily. Several sites were investigated, with some bees dancing for one location, and then changing their minds upon investigating another. The combined consciousness of the swarm helped to decide, with each individual bee having her say. Once the choice was more or less unanimous, the swarm moved off to take possession of their new home.

  The swarm chose a likely tree-hollow found nearby. A pair of late nesting Kookaburras inhabited the space with an almost fully-fledged nestling. Fortunately for them the chick was mature enough to escape the tree cavity upon the arrival of the Honeybee vanguard. The Kookaburras would need to find a new nursery next year, never an easy task in the rapidly shrinking forest.

  Back in the original hive, all might well have seemed lost with the departure of their only queen. However an attempt was underway to provide a line of succession. The abandoned workers were trying to transform six perfectly normal larvae into infant queens.

  Honeybee combs, as opposed to wasp brood cells, lay not upside down but on their side. Each baby bee lay horizontally within its own little waxen cradle. The adult workers bodies produced the wax to make the comb. It issued in tissue-thin scales from between abdominal segments on the bee’s bellies. They then chewed it in their mandibles and fashioned it into perfect hexagonal designs.

  Worker cells were the smallest. Drone cells were slightly larger. Queen cells were not only the largest, but were of unique construction. Echoes of waspine evolution could be found in the six inverted thimble-shaped chambers that hung vertically from the edges of the honeycomb. Before leaving, the old queen performed one last vital service, in order to give the deserted hive a chance of survival. She deposited a single egg into each of the half-dozen royal brood chambers. Although these eggs were identical to all the other thousands that she previously laid, they were destined to hatch into new queens. The future of the colony depended entirely upon the successful rearing of these six bees.

  Four days after being laid, the eggs hatched. These special grubs received the food given to all Honeybee babies during their first days – royal jelly. This was produced in the pharyngeal glands of young worker bees. However after the third day of life, larvae designated to become drones or workers had this special brood food diluted with a mixture of honey and pollen. In contrast, the future queens continued to be fed on the royal jelly alone. As the precious larvae grew, their cells were enlarged and finally sealed. The six new queens lay quietly developing, suspended in their peanut-shaped cradles. Little did they know that they were involved in a race against time for survival.

  Aureole arrived home just in time to witness the emergence of the first young queen. A crowd of admiring onlookers gathered. The queen was larger and more vivid than her worker sisters. Her long abdomen extended beyond her closed wings, which took several minutes to unfurl. It took time for her soft body to gain strength. Workers jostled each other, competing for the privilege of feeding the new monarch.

  However the young queen seemed restless; much too distracted to eat. She began to search the honeycomb for the cells of her royal sisters who were not yet emerged. The crowd of worker bees understood what was to follow, and a kind of bloodlust overtook them. The virgin queen was to perform her first duty – the murder of the other queens. With the active assistance of her subjects, she discovered a second queen cell. Eagerly she clambered onto it, inserted her formidable sting through the wax seal, and stung the unfortunate occupant to death in her bed. She then proceeded to slaughter the other queens in the same manner. The workers positively encouraged her upon her vicious rampage. In fact, when the new queen was a little slow to discover the final cell, the workers themselves ripped away the cap and stung the last queen to death just as she was attempting to emerge.

  Exhausted by her crimes, the queen rested. Meanwhile her subjects unceremoniously disposed of the bodies of her victims, unfazed by the fact that they had been their devoted nursemaids only hours earlier. The hive only required one queen. However if the newcomer failed to mate, or proved to be infertile, the colony still faced disaster. Happy as Aureole was with the successful arrival of her new sovereign, she couldn’t help but wonder if she might have been wiser to throw her fortunes in with the old queen. Although the swarm faced the challenge of finding a new home and food supplies, they at least had the advantage of an experienced monarch of proven fertility. And they escaped the growing threat of the wasps. Aureole fell asleep that night regretting her decision to stay.

  Next morning she woke to a commotion. All around her, bees were making a mad scramble towards the entrance of the hive. The air was thick with the odour of alarm. Her nest mates emitted an overpowering scent from their abdomens that signalled danger. Aureole could feel the vibrat
ion of thousands of agitated bees through her legs and antennae. Confused, she joined the throng heading for the entrance. It was just past dawn, but the day was already oppressively hot. As she neared the hive opening, daylight penetrated the gloom, but her vision remained blocked by the crush of bees. All she could do was to impatiently wait while the crowd moved slowly and inexorably towards the light. It was almost half an hour before she could see the danger for herself.

  A vast gathering of dark, airborne shadows swooped about just outside the entrance. As Aureole worked her way ever nearer she recognized, with horror, that the shadows belonged to European wasps, attacking in their thousands. As the defending bees spilled through the opening, they were immediately set upon by the wasps. The much larger and heavier attackers forced the stricken bees down onto a broad branch below the hive. Here they ruthlessly sliced their living victims into pieces with their powerful mandibles. Then they carried away the abdomens, leaving the bees to die.

  The Honeybees possessed very few defences against a coordinated mass attack of this kind. Their stings were generally unable to effectively strike the wasps, who grasped them head-first and swiftly decapitated them. By the time Aureole reached the entrance, the scene of carnage was truly appalling. The nearby branches and forest floor were littered thickly with corpses. Everywhere there were wasps, dissecting the dead and dying bees and flying away with body parts.

  Aureole, filled with fury, launched herself bravely at the nearest wasp. Taken by surprise, it grasped her awkwardly, allowing her lethal sting to penetrate its soft underbelly. Once she had the tip embedded in her adversary, the sting automatically worked its way in deeper and deeper, all the while pumping venom. It is commonly known that there are barbs present in the extremity of a bee’s sting that prevent its withdrawal from the skin of a human. In such a case the sting is ripped from the bee’s body as she attempts to fly away and she soon dies from the injury. However Aureole removed her sting without damage after using it on the wasp, whose chitinous, sturdy covering did not hold onto the barb as would the elastic skin of a human. Thus she was able to safely extract herself from the dying body of her enemy. Savouring the sweetness of victory, she paused for a moment and then valiantly went on to use her sting with deadly force on several more wasps. Eventually however her luck ran out. The invading force noticed the damage being caused by this determined little bee. Three wasps combined to attack her. Finally overwhelmed, she died, despairing for her young queen.

  The battle raged for hours. Terrified birds and insects steered well clear of the fury. The sheer number of buzzing combatants caused the baking air to throb with noise. Inevitably the larger and heavier wasps prevailed. At the height of the struggle, the bees died at rates as high as sixty per minute. This frenzied pace continued until most of the worker bees were dead. The wasps then began to fly directly into the hive, jubilant at the prospect of acquiring the bee’s rich store of honey.

  In the royal brood chamber, news of the rout reached the new queen. With no escape tunnel, she could do nothing but wait in the dark for the final attack to commence. A large contingent of the royal guard remained to protect her. A wasp appeared at the chamber entrance. It was quickly despatched by the queen herself. More arrived, singly at first, and then in two’s and three’s. For some time the bees mounted a fierce resistance and many a wasp died. Inevitably however, a steady stream of wasps overwhelmed the courageous but exhausted guards, and moved in for the kill. In total darkness, the murderous young queen met her own violent end.

  With the Honeybees effectively wiped out, the victorious wasps rested before seeking out the hive’s rich honey stores. They gorged themselves, oblivious to the increasing distress of the neglected and hungry bee larvae. These helpless babies would soon be slaughtered and fed to the growing wasp hordes. Zenandra could indeed be proud of her children. The capture of such rich spoils virtually guaranteed the future of the colony.

  CHAPTER 23

  In the weeks that elapsed since the wasp attack on Chance, Helen and Mark lived their lives in a kind of impasse. They barely talked to each other, instead allowing their individual resentments to fester and grow. The baby spent almost twenty-four hours recovering in intensive care before Mark was even told of the incident, and then it was the hospital, not Helen, that informed him. They brought Chance home in a day or so, his skin still covered in bruises and blotches. He was difficult to settle, and grizzled constantly. The truth was that his misery had as much to do with the tension in the house as with his injuries.

  Beth rang to ask about the baby’s welfare. Mark was furious when she told him the circumstances of the attack. How dare Helen visit his wife! He dreaded losing the emotional connection he now believed he shared with Beth. Without it, he feared plunging back down into the hollowness of spirit, that for so long seemed to have plagued his existence. His fury with Helen was deeply rooted in this fear. It overcame his natural compassion for his child. It clouded his perception, leaving him coldly indifferent to the suffering of his partner, and therefore blind to the danger she posed. He buried himself ineffectually in his work to avoid spending time at home, all the while planning how to reunite his original family.

  The preoccupied Mark remained unaware that his girlfriend was conducting a torrid affair. Helen managed to conceal her infidelity by conducting a series of daytime trysts that left Jason hungry for more, and frustrated by the subterfuge. He loved her and was unhappy with the role in which he was now cast. The three of them, Jason, Helen and little Chance, often spent the day together. They went for trips to the beach and picnics in the park. Helen even took Chance to see Jason play cricket. As he opened the batting for the local side, the beautiful young woman stood on the sidelines, cheering his every run, and trying to explain the rules to the baby. His surprised team mates mistook them for his family, and were openly admiring of his gorgeous wife. If only it were so. He longed for an honest, legitimate relationship with the woman he wished to marry; as soon as she left Mark that was. This Helen promised to do. But not, it seemed, until she inflicted some serious financial damage upon her wealthy boyfriend. This preoccupation with revenge worried Jason a great deal. He dearly wished that she would focus a little more on her future with him, rather than on her past with Mark. However if she needed to punish the bastard to find closure, Jason was prepared to go along with it. After all, he hated the man who felt he still had a rightful claim on Helen. Jason owed him no favours. In the evenings, when he was unable to steal time with his lover, Jason retreated to his flat, no longer interested in any kind of a social life that didn’t involve Helen. Night after night he sat at his computer, escaping into a cyberworld of games and fantasies, where with a few clicks of the mouse, he could make all his dreams come true.

  Although ignorant of the affair, Mark was now aware of Helen’s gambling habit. He promptly cancelled her credit cards and imposed a strict limit on her daily withdrawals. This failed to curtail her regular visits to the Hotel. Except now she didn’t go just to play the pokies. Her handsome lover worked there, of course, and she enjoyed his attention. But she also looked forward very much to the companionship of her elderly friend, Konrad, on whom she now relied heavily for emotional support. Helen’s own father had abandoned her and her mother when Helen was just ten years old. With Konrad she experienced the sort of unconditional approval and acceptance that she imagined a loving father might offer.

  It was quite unusual for her to have a relationship with a man that was not based on lust, or convenience, or a desire for status. Konrad seemed to appreciate her for who she was; no more, no less. He was generous with his wisdom and advice. Helen felt valued and needed by the lonely old man, who could nearly always be found at the venue, either enjoying the free coffee and snacks, or playing the machines, carefully and sporadically, so as to conserve the modest cup of coins he allowed himself to gamble with.

  Thanks to Jason, Helen was not greatly inconvenienced by Mark’s attempts to curb her spending. He kept her supp
lied with as much cash as he could afford to on a security guard’s wage. Although she could no longer squander thousands in an afternoon, she had sufficient to enjoy a few games at the side of her mentor. Often she would give any cash she had to Konrad, preferring just to chat and watch him play. They made for an odd couple; the lovely young woman and the portly old man. Helen’s attention and kindness towards Konrad angered Jason, who thought it obvious he was taking advantage. He was also jealous of the position Konrad seemed to hold, as Helen’s most trusted confidante. To him she confessed all her bitterness over her sham of a relationship and her plans for the future. Unlike Jason, Konrad fully understood that she could not move forward until she somehow made Mark atone for his betrayal. He convinced her, if she had ever doubted it, that justice required she settle the score. In Konrad, Helen found her ideas and opinions reflected and affirmed. In his own way, the old man was as seductive as her young lover.

  Up until this point she’d remained mostly ignorant of the financial affairs of the relationship. With Konrad’s advice and encouragement, she set about to remedy this. A brief search of Mark’s home-office and some investigative trips to their bank, revealed some fascinating information. Their luxury home was half in Helen’s name. A line of credit existed of up to 80 percent of the property’s multi million dollar value. That was not all. Mark used accounts held in Helen’s own name to income split for taxation purposes. These accounts boasted substantial balances. Helen cursed herself for not taking more of an interest in these matters. How many times had she trustingly signed bank documents and provided sample signatures without ever questioning what they were for? It became clear to her that she could immediately and quite legitimately access these funds. However she had ambitions to put a much larger hole than this in Mark’s pockets.