Chapter 1585 - Forward Facing Colony

Hello dear readers, it is I, Tolly, at your service once again, ready to regale you with tales of my trials and tribulations amongst the collective crafts of the Colony!

I have to say, it has been wonderful to return to my home in the Dungeon, the wonderful fourth stratum. Full of life and light, I think my knees and hips are feeling better than they have in years! 

Though I still harbour a suspicion that the wonderful mattress the ants have generously given to me (I’ll let them know about their donation soon, I’m sure they won’t mind) may be responsible.

After a few days, myself and the jolly fellows acting as my bodyguard have fully acclimated and are ready, filled with vim and vigour, to attack the days ahead! Of course, are currently occupying the legendary anthill, the mountain filled from top to bottom with ant monsters, a trading hub and hive (pardon the reference, there are certainly no bees here!) of activity known all over the fourth!

Despite its generally benign reputation and the prevalence of Colony-produced goods across the Dungeon, there are surprisingly few tourists or visitors here! I am shocked when my dear guide, Emilia, informs me that almost all of the non-humans I see striding the halls and occupying the guest rooms around us are merchants.

“But that seems highly curious!” I declare as we dangle our feet in the provided swimming pool within our suite. “Why wouldn’t travellers come here to shop and buy things for themselves at a cheaper price? And it isn’t like the hospitality of your ant-friends is poor, far from it! I know many, many old-biddies who would love to come and stay for a few days, maybe even a week! And they’d spend good money to do so!”

In my eyes, I can see a flourishing tourist industry emerging, thousands of people from the Silver City hopping on a cruise to pop in and visit the Colony, see the sights, taste the cakes and spend some gold! Despite my grand visions, Emilia simply smiles and shakes her head.

“There are a few reasons why that hasn’t happened, and likely won’t happen,” she lets me down gently. “There are many trade regulations put in place to prevent anyone from buying directly from the Colony, all sales must go through intermediaries, no matter how small.”

“Why?”

“Because the Colony doesn’t really understand money, even now.”

I find this difficult to believe, dear reader. They’ve built so many wondrous things, achieved so much across the Dungeon in such a short span of time, and yet I’m supposed to believe they can’t grasp basic economics!

As ever, Emilia the wonderful volunteer tour guide, can read the doubt on my face. She really is quite the capable girl. I’m half a mind to ask her to be my secretary going forward, readers. She is truly an amazing individual!

“Why don’t you come and see for yourself?” she invites me.

Now, I am never one to turn down an invitation to see something interesting, as you all know. It’s in my name!

So it is that we take a brief jaunt through the wonderfully lit and accommodating walking tunnels of the Colony to what Emilia describes as the ‘trading floor’.

The closer we get, the more dense the foot traffic becomes and I find all sorts of individuals roaming about, from all parts of the Dungeon, even the odd sophos! When we come to the floor itself, it’s hard for me to grasp at first the sheer scale of it!

It’s enormous! A grand chamber, with a high-vaulted ceiling, enormous pillars, each carved to depict ants hard at work at various crafts. It’s so vast, I feel like a reasonable sized town would fit inside this one space!

And the noise! The hustle and bustle is intoxicating to me, as well you all know! There are thousands upon thousands of people down there, creating a bubbling, fizzing chatter that fills the air and sings in my ears. The feel of the place is exciting! All the vim and vigour of a spring market, with a hint of a harder edge, like a brathian who owes you a favour.

Emelia has to lean close to my ear so that I can hear what she’s saying as we take a ‘lift’ down to the trading floor itself.

“This is where merchants and trade organisations come to make their deals with the Colony. Because the volume of goods and services moving through here is so high, it’s difficult even for the Colony to keep tabs on demand day to day. Merchant devised this automated system that tracks every trade and order being made in real time, adjusting the prices accordingly.”

“What?” I say, aghast. “The prices are determined automatically?”

My guide can only shrug, her dimples showing as she smiles at me.

“The Colony doesn’t like haggling, and they hate the idea of unfair exchange. The automated system removes both elements.”

We have to step carefully indeed on the trading floor. There are people/ka’armodo/golgari/folk and even bruan’chii running around like their backsides are on fire, waving pieces of paper and shouting until they’re red in the face!

At first I have no idea what they are doing, but then I see the ants working at their desks. With little green-shaded caps on, they sit in large banks of desks situated around the room, legs flicking every which way as they take pieces of paper, buy-orders I’m told, count money, receive coin or cores, pay out coin or cores, all the while punching away at a strange looking enchanted slab to their side.

Overhead, a constant ticking sound can be heard as boards shift and change, numbers and letters flying all over the place as the name of everything under the surface seems to pop up, with a price, for half a second, only to vanish a second later as the board changes and another two dozen items are presented.

“This seems like chaos!” I declare.

This isn’t like the usual neat and orderly solutions the ants seem to prefer. Far too much shouting and sweaty people in robes yelling at each other. 

“Personally, I think the Colony agrees with you!” Emelia shouts in my ear, trying to be heard over the din, “but they always try to give people what they want. The visiting merchants, particularly the brathian, seem to love it here. Look over there!”

She points me to the side.

Against one of the columns are a group of ants, these wearing a different sort of hat to help identify them, sitting comfortably in chairs under a sign that said ‘hagglers welcome.’

“I thought the Colony hated haggling!” I demand.

“They do! But some traders just don’t feel comfortable agreeing on a price if they haven’t argued about it first!”

“Does the haggling even change the prices? I thought they were automatic?”

Emelia shakes her head.

“It doesn’t, but their satisfaction levels go up.”

Again, all she can do is shrug.