Yellow Jacket, Black Heart

Sabeen clings to the last few moments of her beautiful dream as it fades. In it she is flying high above a peaceful meadow on a warm summer’s day. The flowers are in full bloom promising nectar and pollen in abundance. The denizens of the meadow go peacefully about their business of gathering food and nurturing their young.

Aurek buzzes through the air alongside her. His golden-brown hair glows warmly in the hazy sunlight. She gazes deep into his soft emerald eyes and feels her heart beat faster inside her. Glancing down, she sees the entrance to her nest in the side of a giant, healthy redwood tree. It is well protected by daughters at the entrance and a host of sons hovering outside. Inside the nest, her larvae are well fed and safe in countless deep tunnels. Her nest is thriving.

She turns back to Aurek, buzzing her wings joyfully at him. He buzzes back and his wings come off. She watches in horror as he plummets to the ground.

Fully awake now, her duty crowds her mind. Time to get to work.

The faint glow of the pre-dawn sun reaches into the nest. She bustles around, checking that all is well and noting what needs to be done. There is a lot to be done. From the antechamber that leads outside, there are entrances to two inner tunnels. She chewed these laboriously into the wood of a dead tree stump. They are perfectly straight. She’d have liked to make a third, but there was no time.

Her one-inch long body fits snugly in the first tunnel as she crawls along it. Her antennae brush the smooth sides of the tunnel. About half-way along it a partition made of masticated plant tissue blocks further passage. Behind this wall is a birthing cell containing the ball of bee bread she rolled in and the single egg she laid on it. Behind that, three further cells. Soon enough the eggs will each hatch a larva, which will spin a cocoon around itself and become a pupa. From that pupa will hatch a hungry son who she will have to feed until he is ready to leave the nest.

The second tunnel is full of debris that needs to be cleaned out. Several adults have hatched. They are vulnerable, waiting to be fed. Waiting for her to feed them.

So much to be done. The days are growing shorter and there is no time for dreams.

Back in the antechamber her two daughters stand guard against unwanted visitors. They could both pass for slightly smaller versions of Sabeen. One turns to face her and pushes its way past the other to come close. Sabeen looks her up and down appraisingly.

Two large compound eyes with thousands of facets glint alongside three simple eyes and two sensitive antennae on her daughter’s head. Her long tongue is retracted behind mandibles strong enough to chew through wood.

Six legs and two pairs of dark wings with a violet sheen are attached to her middle section, the thorax. Behind the thorax the large abdomen is tipped with a vicious looking sting. Her shiny black body is covered in short hairs for catching pollen.

As Sabeen brushes past her on her way out, her daughter’s dark wings buzz slightly. Sabeen raises her head and both daughters back away, heads down. All questions of hierarchy are answered. Sabeen clambers out the round entrance hole to start the day’s work.

Outside the nest, several of her sons circle the rotten old tree stump. Fuzzy teddy-bear brown hair covers their burly bodies, and matching brown wings buzz as they hover. Their green eyes keep watch for would-be intruders, ready to scare them off. They have no stings but compensate for this with a reckless aggression.

As she is about to take off, Aurek returns from an early foraging run. His beautiful golden-brown hair is lightly dusted with pollen and his hind legs are covered with it. He flies close to her as he heads in, and she smells his pheromones. A wave of affection for him crashes through her and she lingers a moment, their bodies touching. She flies out to forage.

After a short flight she reaches a patch of scraggly flowers and decides to harvest from these today. She will spend the whole day harvesting from the same type of flower. The ultraviolet circle around the stamens at the centre glows, inviting her in and bringing back pleasant memories. White petals and tendrils spread out from the centre. She flies in and lands on the stamens at the centre. As her body brushes against them fine pollen dust rubs off on it. Her body is too large for her to climb in to get at the nectar so she uses her long tongue to reach in for it. After a short while she takes flight again and heads to the next flower.

She is far from alone in the meadow. Thousands of other denizens are active, even in the faint light as the sun starts to rise. Creatures climb the plants, scrabble on the ground and cruise the skies, all seeking the same thing. Food to survive and multiply. Conflicts break out and are quickly settled. A shadow passes over her and she looks up. High above her a yellow jacket wasp is cruising. A shudder goes through her. These vicious killers are best avoided. Dangerous enough alone, they are lethal in packs.

As she visits flower after flower she brushes the pollen on to her back legs for carrying back to the nest. She fills up with nectar and flies back. Her boys circling the entrance seem vulnerable now as she thinks back on the deadly yellow jacket. She flies in, passes her daughters and enters the empty tunnel, regurgitating nectar into the mouths of the growing adults to feed them. Crawling back through the antechamber into the half-full tunnel she brushes off the pollen, starting to build a bread ball. She regurgitates the remaining pollen onto it, mixing it together with her saliva. It will take many more trips before it is ready.

The yellow jacket flies through her mind once more and she imagines it wreaking devastation on her vulnerable children. In her mind’s eye it tears through the nest, destroying all she has worked so hard to build. Lymphatic fluid rushes through her as her heart pounds faster. She doesn’t know what she’d do if it dared to come after her children.

But the world is full of danger, and she must be strong, and work hard. Nurture the nest, and give her children the best possible chance in life. The harder she works, the better chance they will have. Calm and focused on her responsibility again, she leaves the nest and heads to the next batch of flowers.

She reaches a patch of the scraggly flowers and lands, reaching inside for nectar. A yellow jacket lands on the flower next to her. Half her length, it is twice as deadly. Its dead black eyes rimmed with yellow loops fixate on her. Its long black antennae point towards her. Its sharp mandibles twitch open. It reaches forward and crashes them shut on an aphid crossing the flower, keeping its expressionless eyes fixed on her the whole time. Carnivore. Unlike Sabeen and her family, the yellow jackets nourish themselves on the flesh of the dead. Face to face with this natural born killer, she backs off and flies to a different flower. No sense in taking such a risk.

She circles for a while, agitated. Lands on a nearby flower and reaches in to gather some nectar. The yellow jacket lands, closer to her this time. Its thorax is mostly black with yellow stripes along the side and a single hard black diamond. It is sleek, fast and maneuverable. As it bends its thin waist, she sees the abdomen with its series of yellow stripes punctuated by black diamonds turn towards her. The vicious sting with its powerful venom points directly at her. Is it playing with her? Why is it threatening her like this? Perhaps it is finding it hard to find food this late in summer. Again Sabeen flies off, this time heading some distance to a different kind of flower. Let the yellow jacket have those ones. The nest needs her alive.

This flower has broader leaves and long, thin stamens that she cannot reach far enough into to get the nectar. As the competition heats up, the pickings become slimmer. Still, she has her tricks. She bites into the base of the stamen, her sharp mandibles gnawing a small slit. Through this she pokes her long tongue and laboriously retrieves a little nectar.

To compensate for the smaller amount of nectar she decides to collect more pollen for the bee bread. Holding fast to a stamen, she buzzes her wing muscles without moving the wings themselves. The stamen shakes and pollen covers her. She brushes it back to her hind legs and moves to the next flower. It is slow and exhausting work. But it must be done. The nest is depending on her.

She scents a pheromone scent of danger as she returns to the nest. Something is wrong. She flies past the males buzzing in the skies outside the nest and lands on the tree stump. Crawls through the entrance into the antechamber. Her daughters are agitated. The bolder of them does a short, complicated dance. Repeats it. One of the males has not returned to the nest. Is it Aurek? Fear courses through her. She could not bear it to lose him.

Yet duty binds her. She heads into the nest, building the bread ball up until it is ready. Rolls it to the end of the half-blocked passage and lays an egg on it. Retrieving some of the debris from the other tunnel, she chews it together, building a partition wall. As her body goes through the motions, visions of the worst flash through her distracted mind.

If she lost Aurek, the light would go out of her life.

The wall built, she heads out of the nest for more resources. As she takes flight she picks up a familiar scent. Aurek’s pheromones, faint but definitely there. Is he in danger? Forgetting the pollen and nectar, she follows the scent as it grows slowly stronger. What will she find when she reaches him? She picks up speed, flying as fast as her wings will take her.

The scent is coming from a patch of the scraggly flowers. She recognises this patch. Aurek is there, at the centre of one of them, his emerald eyes gleaming in the bright midday sun. His pheromones are strong, irresistibly drawing her to him. Just like in early summer, when she was drawn to him. She flies closer. He had always had something special for her. A certain golden sheen to his fur, a softness in the eyes. They had mated that day and her offspring were his as well.

Normally a male would seek to mate with many queens, to better his chances. But Aurek had been different. He hadn’t done that. Instead he had been very attentive, a constant presence looking out for her. Working hard. A shoulder to lean on, a companion.

She lands and approaches him. Is that concern in his eyes? He knows the pressure she’s under. A small dance confirms it - he is showing her support. They move in closer, holding their bodies against each other. Just sitting there together, she draws on him for reassurance. Her worries drain away and she feels his quiet strength. Long moments pass peacefully. The nest can wait. She needs this.

Her compound eyes catch a shadow behind her as an angry buzzing races towards them. She pushes Aurek away and they both spring to the side as a yellow jacket dives towards them. Not just any yellow jacket. The same one! Angrily it comes at her, sting first. Its sleek body races through the air. So fast. No way she can escape in time.

Aurek dives into the yellow jacket’s side, knocking it back. He buzzes his wings at full strength, his large burly body towering over the yellow jacket. Recovering herself, Sabeen dives at the yellow jacket from the other side. It tries to sting them but whenever it goes for one of them, the other hits it from behind. It gnashes its jaws and dives again. To no avail, it cannot defeat the two of them working together. It hovers for a moment, its dead eyes staring deep into Sabeen’s soul. It flies off.

Shaken by this terrifying assault, Sabeen heads back to the nest. Aurek flies at her side, keeping watch. They reach the nest without further incident and Aurek hovers outside to keep guard. Crawling in through the hole, Sabeen slumps down in the antechamber, shocked and confused. That’s three times the same yellow jacket has targeted her. It’s unheard of. If its whole nest is equally aggressive, they could be in serious danger.

Lost in her thoughts, Sabeen doesn’t notice her daughter approaching until she barges into her, knocking her on her side. Towering over her, her daughter points her stinger at her. Seizing this chance for dominance, to become the queen of the nest.

The shock of the yellow jacket’s attack turns to raging red anger in her. Sabeen storms up, knocking her smaller daughter aside. She looms, seeming larger than life, buzzing and pulsing with threat. Her daughter cowers, head down. She has never seen Sabeen like this. She’s made a terrible mistake to challenge her queen.

Sabeen stings her daughter, one time. Not enough to kill, but enough to hurt. Enough for her to remember this mistake. This is not her time. It will never be her time while Sabeen rules the nest. Let her never forget that.

Satisfied that her daughter is back in her place, Sabeen leaves the nest. She brought back nothing from her last trip and the sun is way past its zenith. Time is running out and there is work to be done.

She heads to a patch of flowers in the opposite direction. Moving from flower to flower, she laboriously collects nectar and pollen. She keeps an eye out for the yellow jacket but it doesn’t seem to have followed her.

A deep buzzing fills the air, and the sun darkens as a huge shadow crosses it. Is it the yellow jackets? No. Thousands of honey bees are swarming the air. At their head, a large queen leads them on their way to establish a new hive. Perhaps their success has been crowding the yellow jackets out, making them more desperate. Sabeen stares up at the queen, wondering. What must it be like to head such a large army of bees? Surely any problems are trivial leading such a force. Not like a solitary queen, fighting for survival every moment of every day to nurture and protect her vulnerable nest. For a moment she is sure she feels the honey bee queen staring back, then the swarm passes by.

Sabeen swears her nest will thrive too, and goes back to work with renewed energy.

Heading back to the nest fully laden with pollen and nectar, Sabeen smells Aurek’s pheromones. Has he followed her this side of the nest, to make sure she is safe? That would be just like him. There he is on a yellow flower, waiting for her. His head is cocked to one side, his green eyes inviting. A rush of affection surges through her and she lands next to him. She nestles up to him, nudging him. His decapitated head rolls to one side. His wings have been mauled, chewed repeatedly past the point needed to remove them. He has been stung repeatedly in the back. His legs have been dismembered and the rear two are missing.

A hundred million years ago, dinosaurs still roamed the earth. Competition for scarce resources was fierce and deadly. Two killers buzzed through the air, searching for food. One hunted small insects, its typical prey. The other chanced to land on a flower and found sweet nectar within. So their paths diverged and led back to the present day. Different prey, but the same essential killer nature of the wasps remained within the bees, dormant but there, waiting to be awakened.

As Sabeen stares in horror at the dismembered body of her beloved, her soul wars with itself.

The steady, staid duty of instinct. Protect the nest, nurture her young. Survive and reproduce. Reinforced with every generation, lived out every day of her life. It is like a mountain of habit and behaviour, solid and unmovable. She must return to the nest, deliver the foraged food. One male more or less is unimportant compared to her duty.

And then there is the ancient fierceness buried deep within her. The red fire of bloody murder, the hunt and the taste of the prey. Buried so far beneath the weight of the stone that it cannot get past. But feed the fire enough and it can burst through stone, a volcano of rage that can only be quenched in blood.

Back and forth she goes - pulled forward by her rage, held back by her duty.

Sabeen rubs the pollen from her hind legs. She regurgitates the nectar onto the ground to increase her speed, to remove distraction. Flies up to a nearby branch and waits. The nest is forgotten now. She will kill the yellow jacket or die trying.

She does not have to wait long for the yellow jacket to return. Its legs show traces of pollen from carrying Aurek’s pollen laden hind legs. It circles, not seeing Sabeen in her hiding place. Lands on Aurek and mauls his wing stubs, chewing them as it would a subordinate wasp in its nest, to show dominance. Wraps its legs around Aurek’s emerald eyed head and lifts it into the air for transport back to the hive.

Sabeen launches herself into the air and dives at full speed towards the yellow jacket. It sees her coming and dodges, but laden down its speed is greatly reduced. She crashes into it and knocks it to the ground. As it rises, she is on it, her large mandibles, strong enough to chew through wood, biting into its wings. She shreds them, stealing from it the power of flight. She crushes it under her weight, driving it into the ground. In her mind is nothing but hatred and rage, and the need for blood. The volcano of rage has burst, and the killer within her has been set free. She bites again and again.

Bleeding clear lymphatic fluid from many bites, the yellow jacket turns its head towards her. It fixes its lifeless gaze on her blazing eyes. It seems like they stare at each other across an immeasurable distance, so different and yet so alike. The yellow jacket bends its agile waist and twists its abdomen impossibly towards her. The sting smoothly pierces her and its deadly venom pumps into her.

Sabeen convulses and she loses her grip on the yellow jacket. Again she is stung, and she starts to black out. Thoughts of her nest rush through her mind. Her vulnerable young, her unborn children. How hard she worked to nurture and protect them. After all this, the yellow jacket will claim another victim.

And so will she. Her head darts forward, her mandibles fixing on the yellow jacket’s thin neck. It struggles to get away. She clamps down with all the strength she has left. Her mandibles are strong enough to chew through wood, and still strong enough to half-sever a yellow jacket’s head. Twitching, they die in each other’s arms. They lie there in a parody of an embrace, two ancient sisters united again in blood.

The flowers wave gently in the breeze, mute witness to the battle fought here. A battle fought a thousand times every day. Soon enough the bodies will be found and harvested for food by other predators.

Across the meadow in the dead stump of an old tree, a small nest awaits the return of its queen. Cautiously, one of the daughters assumes the role, heading out to forage, to do her duty. There is no time to mourn, only the work to nurture the nest, to provide for the young and to prepare for the winter ahead. The nest will live to see another day.