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Working carefully with small precision-crafted tools, you break off delicate slivers of these strange and unfamiliar crystals. Controllers wrap them up.

But then Vecla says, "The dragonflies!"

They've started to circle lower. It's clear you can't stay; Therko helps get everything stowed, and in minutes you're on your way with your cache.

Wildflowers appear as you continue your journey, replacing the monotonous green-gold of the plains with shades of blue, crimson, and violet. Soon a hilly crystalline landscape rises around you, like nothing that exists in your time. Vecla stares about in wonder, but Control only says, "These crystals are full of impurities. They are worthless for our needs."

As you stop to investigate a thick knot of crystal that appears to have been worked, Therko asks, "What are they?" and points up.

Despite the diaphanous wings, they're not more dragonflies. They're shaped like people—women, to be precise.

"Bees," Alexius says, so stupefied he drops his rifle. "Those women are bees."

Control turns to look at Vecla. She seems ready to ask a question of the grub woman when Therko says, "They're armed. Get ready," and unslings his steel ax.

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