Juna was sitting in the crotch of the tree arranging a platter of food, when she heard a scream. She looked up. In the next tree, the largest snake she had ever seen was coiled around a worker. The alien’s legs quivered and gave an occasional reflexive twitch, but already its head had disappeared inside the serpent’s huge maw. The worker’s skin turned silvery white as Juna watched. The other workers had scattered. They huddled in frightened groups, watching the snake consume its prey. Several of the larger aliens glanced up and then continued with what they were doing.

Juna clung to the branch, watching the worker disappear down the throat of the snake. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The death of this alien apparently meant no more than the death of a mouse or a bird to the rest of the village. Juna looked away as the snake, with the feet of its prey still protruding from its mouth, slithered off. Juna left the half-finished platter for someone else to arrange, and walked to the end of a branch. She was sickened by what she had seen.

She stared off into the jungle. Why had none of the others tried to save the alien? Clearly they couldn’t be juvenile forms of the aliens; she couldn’t imagine any intelligent species allowing its children to die without lifting a hand to save them. The aliens seemed to regard the workers as expendable. So much for her protection theory. So what was really going on here? She looked at the now-empty branch where the snake had been, and shuddered. It had been a horrible death, made more horrible by the fact that no one had lifted a hand to help the little alien.

A great, hollow booming resonated throughout the tree, interrupting Juna’s thoughts. The feast was about to start. Looking down, she saw several aliens pounding hard on the huge buttresses of the tree with large sticks. Clouds of bees streamed out of the tree like iridescent smoke.