Before the system could finish, it interrupted itself.
Almost everything short of the 'Scientific Method' and the latest metalworking technologies went there, including glass-making and even muscle-powered trains.
The 'Technologies of Bronze Age' united bonuses of all the merged technologies, and added some more.
All the accumulated technologies that have finally spread over the Empire enough to count have bumped our technological age past the Late Bronze Age and directly toward Iron Age!
The change of attributes and the influx of development points were immediate, and it was the last few points we needed to…
This felt like a transitional upgrade. No other bonuses except attribute points, and after I looked at the colony status, I saw I needed 10 thousand points to the next level!
When just before, I only needed 3 thousand!
I was shocked, but not much. After all, just a day after I got sick, Undecided told me all about how this upgrade was preordained.
I wasn't worried about getting 10 thousand development points either—I had years of time ahead of me, and right now, I got exactly what I needed—precious points to cure myself and help my daughters.
I pushed through the weakness caused by my sickness and focused my thoughts. Amby's quarantine room was literally just behind the wall from my own—both were a part of the Royal Chambers.
If I stood up and walked to a certain wall in my room (which was what I did), we would usually be close enough that I could read her thoughts, and she could use her basic 'Telepathy I' gene to send messages back.
I leaned onto a wooden wall covered in a thin layer of wax for smoothness (and to save people splinters), then sent my message.
'Amby… I'm about to get new genes! I will boost my immunity and get myself cured, and we will finally be able to get together as we are used to. Are you happy?'
She didn't reply immediately, and I couldn't pick up any coherent thoughts from her. It was as if she was asleep. But it was noon…
'Ah… Yes… Of course. You are going to be healthy—this is always good,' she finally sent a message back. However, her thoughts sounded much more glum than they were supposed to.
'You sound grim. What's wrong, babe? Dear? My sweet cupcake, honey, Amby?'
The more Amby stayed silent, the more I worried, and the more ridiculous pet names I came up with.
'I don't feel very good,' Ambrosia finally replied. 'I believe I must be sick with the same thing you are.'
'What? Lie down, then! I will see you immediately! Tabletina—'
'I've already sent an Attendant after her. But… I suppose if we are both sick, you can come see me and do whatever you want to.'
That was exactly what I did.
Ambrosia was lying in bed, looking worse than I've ever seen her. Her facetious eyes were half-lidded, her skin was both pale and flushed—on cheeks only—and she was coughing from time to time.
Yes, it looked very much like my illness. Tabletina only confirmed this.
"But we shouldn't worry if things are as you mentioned, Father. Since you have found more genes, Father, you only need to pick the ones that make us immune to this sickness and share them with Mother-Queen."
"She's right, Necty. You don't need to look so grim," Ambrosia smiled at me from the bed I was sitting on the edge of.
"I *absolutely* need to!" I protested. "Half of my immunity comes from a morphotype, remember? I need to get more immunity genes before I can share them with you. And *that* would require that I become super-puper-duper lucky!"
"Either way, at least nobody else got sick so far," Ambrosia said nonchalantly, ignoring my frustration whatsoever. "The Oracles still stayed unsure about this illness, didn't they? Perhaps this means that the chances of anyone else getting sick with it are just as low as yours or mine."
When I asked Undecided (telepathically, of course; these days I spoke with other people mostly through a wall) about this sickness earlier, she was shocked. I wondered if it was because I would hide the sickness from her, but no—it just made no sense.
After a day of meditation with her sisters-Oracles, Undecided declared she wasn't sure about anything (as usual), except that there were some out-of-place events so improbable that they just slipped through her fingers.
"Chances are all theoretical. But me and you are sick for real!" I said, shaking my head. "I'm going to put points into endurance until I stack all the immunity genes I can. And if I don't, at least the endurance gene pool has a lot of other good stuff."
"Shouldn't we gather the full Council for it, Father?" Tabletina asked.
"Not this time. I will consult them if it's something worth their time, but I know already…"
I turned toward Ambrosia and took one of her hands in mine. The feverish blush on her cheeks deepened for a second, and her eyes opened wider to meet my gaze.
"The Emperor might go, but the Empress must go on. This is a bee society, after all—Queens had always outlived their drones. Except, I'm not planning to die!"
With these words, I let Ambrosia go and opened my system. Without hesitation, I put the first point into endurance and prayed for the best!