We returned to the main hall and found 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? 5555th asked, and 344th 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 344th 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 344th 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 47th 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.)

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 47th city. Now, I only needed to survive the mayhem. No big deal. How dangerous could the frogs be, right?

***

The wells dug around the 43rd 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.