It stood there, high above the waving moss fronds, an enormous translucent blue cube. What did it mean? What did its arrival on The Wall portend? Were immensely powerful alien beings watching them, even controlling them? The questions piled up, fragmenting into incoherent chemical noise.
Then it spoke, in rushing waves of conditioner and shampoo fragrances.
The orders were clear, precise, and clinical.
Nothing would ever be the same again for the ants.