As soon as I asked this question, I already knew the answer.
Other species will be affected as much as ours. Which meant that they might feel fine right now, but a while later, a wave of pandemics would sweep over the region.
Not so soon that the Oracles could already predict it, but in a few months…
We had to think about this, too.
But my first idea—penicillin—wasn't as great on second thought.
Penicillin was a famous drug—the first antibiotic and an almost magical cure at the time it was created.
It was made from a strain of mold named Penicillium notatum, which naturally produced this chemical to kill surrounding bacteria and protect itself.
Humans have learned that if they let more of this mold grow in a sterile and controlled environment, they can then filter the mold out and distill the penicillin into something actually usable.
So in theory, the process of acquiring penicillin wasn't technologically hard—it wasn't rocket science. But in practice, it required us finding a specific strain of mold among thousands of those that were always invisibly present in the environment.
Also, these mold strains would rapidly evolve in the same way everything else did. There could be no guarantee that they won't turn poisonous when we least expect it.
No, the bees could depend only on ourselves and creatures that don't breed faster than we can see!
As if she heard my thoughts (although I didn't send them to her), Tabletina spoke again.
"Father, to find sick bees faster and isolate them before they start another outbreak, I propose establishing regular mandatory health inspections. It will require many people to enact, but they don't have to be physicians. Simple Nurses can follow basic instructions well enough. They will be extra vigilant against all new illnesses and send bees to quarantine on the first suspicion."
Tabletina proposed a reasonable and logical plan, but I felt a headache just imagining its enactment. Not only will it require extra hands in Tabletina's employ, if bees got sick days because of any sneeze it will hit our workforce once again!
"I approve this plan. Flesh it out and let Ambrosia and Workharder look at it, too. We will need to build extra hospitals to enact it, anyway."
Tabletina nodded, and a hint of a smile flashed on her face.
"It will make researching new illnesses easier. We will need new archives built to catalog them all and the ways to cure them."
"This is *not* a good thing, Tabletina! Seriously… I need to evolve quickly myself and get more genes with an improved immune system. Except, this won't help the four million bees who already live in the Empire."
"Even if we all die, under your guidance, eight more million bees will come and make the Bee Empire even larger, Father," Tabletina said with absolute assurance. Her eyes flashed with zeal. "They will be better than us and prepared for anything the world throws on them. And even if they fall, twice as many will take their place. As long as you lead us, any fall will just feed further victories, like cadavers lead to discoveries."
I gave Tabletina a long, stern look.
"This was a terrible comparison. Keep your sisters alive, Health Adviser Tabletina."
The plan was a second notable hit on the Empire's resources after the flies thing.
The third was the flower shortage that Undecided predicted.
There were just fewer flowers growing in our territory than before, and I could find no obvious explanation for that. It wasn't like we cut down trees with flowers on them. We cut away the flowers first!
Well, perhaps there *was* a possible explanation.
But reckless resource gathering wasn't the main (or at least, the only) reason. There were plenty of areas where bees didn't cut trees exactly to gather nectar from their flowers. Plus, the territories of unevolved hives were left untouched, but now half the trees there were wilting.
Thankfully, thanks to Undecided's predictions, we had plenty of meat stored to feed the Empire (even if a lot of it was foul-tasting fly meat—dry and disgusting compared to caterpillar steaks, but edible and nutritious). We also had honey to share with unevolved bees, so they didn't die off immediately and survived until the trees in our orchards started blooming.
But this couldn't continue. Whatever plant blight this was, it could affect our gardens, too.
'In the Game of Evolution, we are damn slow compared with some others,' I thought to myself. 'But the speed of all these evolutions should have a limit, too! We just have to get ahead once, *just once*…'
Thus, I gave Tabletina another task—to find why trees weren't blooming. Of course, this required a hefty amount of Physicians and supporting workers to be moved from their regular health checks.
At this point, I was *pleading* for some good news to appear. And I was given them, at last!
The beast tamers have achieved an understanding with five more black dragons. Even more, our scouts have found several black dragon nests. Stealing eggs from them was impossible—the nests were guarded by at least one dragon at all times—but I had another idea.
Telepathic beast tamers could hide nearby and teach dragon hatchlings with telepathic messages. It would be literal brainwashing!
Our Researchers have also built a prototype for a loom that could be mass-produced well enough, and our Craftsmen began making the first bee-usable fabric from human clothes.
And, despite all the hits on the Bee Empire, Worriesgone worked hard on her own task. Now the heralds had plenty of tales to share over the Empire, and an entire troupe of Artists was working on a theatrical play.
The wellbeing of bees in the Empire might have been falling because of the evolving illnesses, but their spirit was as high as ever.
These improvements were relatively small separately, but together they all added up to the Empire's development points.
We still didn't have enough to reach the next development level and evolve ahead of our competition. There was only one way ahead.