The 'shitton' in my interpretation was only 250 knives—one for each Craftsman Bee and Material Forager, plus some extras.
It took only a day for my Craftsmen Bees to make them. Most of that time was spent explaining the process to the line, uneducated, Craftsmen Bees, as well as gathering materials.
Material Foragers quickly understood that Craftsmen Bees needed more bones. But then things got complicated.
"Father, I have a question!" a Sergeant Material Forager exclaimed after I finished explaining. "Do bees have bones inside, Father?"
"Yeah, of course! You can even feel them! Wait, why are you asking?.."
The Sergeant already turned to a bee next to her.
"Then this task is gonna be *easy*, just *so* easy. We can simply check near the garbage pile! It must be full of bones."
A garbage pile? Did she mean the place right under our mountain? The place where all the garbage and the corpses—
I gasped and clutched my head with realization.
"Oh no. No, you can't just make knives out of *bee* bones!"
The Sergeant Material Forager turned to me and tilted her head, puzzled.
"Why, Father? Are they not good for this?"
'Oh, come on, Nectus,' an insidious voice inside me spoke. 'The bones Material Foragers brought yesterday were probably bee bones, too. Those bees are dead, anyway—you can take whatever you want from them. Don't be such a pussy! Nobody but you care about shit like "morals" here. Be rational.'
I hated this voice a little. Or a lot. Especially because it was right.
"Forget it! Yes, you can take bee bones. Sure. Just… wash them with water beforehand."
"Sure thing, Father!"
The soap wasn't invented yet, either.
All those morally questionable choices paid off, at least.
Next day, I gathered my Sergeant Craftsmen in a workshop again. All of us were smiling excitedly. They—because they were anticipating the next pearl of wisdom from. Me—because of all the new possibilities.
A pile of new materials was waiting already: a heap of thin bark pieces and grass stems.
"Now that all of you have knives, you can make all sorts of other tools. Like even better knives. You don't even need me to teach you much anymore, I bet."
"We will be super useful to the hive!"
"I can't wait to see what we can do with these knives!"
"I've already cut a lot of things up. Branches for hammers—they are much easier to split with knives! Can't wait to see what other tools there are—are they just as amazing?"
Feeling all warm and fuzzy with adoration, I patted the nearest Sergeant Bee on the head. She beamed wider and her wings beat with excitement.
Her colleagues looked at us enviously. I chuckled and went to give a head pat to each.
'My daughters are so smart and technically adult, but they are still so adorable… I'm blessed with them, really.'
Mostly because the hive had Nurse Bees to care about all my children until they could care for themselves. Thank Goddess of Bees for that! (She was still a bitch.)
"Alright, I've already asked Material Foragers to prepare some things for today's experiments. You have knives to cut things apart, and now you will learn how to make an essential item to connect things together!"
This time, I didn't participate—I just gave my Sergeant Craftsmen general directions, and told them to spread them to their subordinates.
110 bees in a dozen workshops experimented, cut the stems and bark, twisted them together and softened them up by bending or soaking them in water.
A lot of materials were wasted by the end of the day. A lot of them weren't suitable in the first place.
But by evening, I got another notification.
Brainpower requirement: 13
Logistics: +1 per 1 thousand affected workers.
Allows more advanced crafting.
Improves overall craft quality.
When I flew to the workshops, Craftsmen Bees greeted me with proudly raised results of their work: several thin plant ropes. Like before, those were Sergeants who gathered around me, ready to pass my word to their subordinates.
I took a few ropes and tied them together into one long one. It was much easier than tying together just bark strips!
"It's so interesting to tie them together, right, Father?" A Sergeant Craftsman said. "We tied and untied them, like… twenty times! Each time, we could tie them differently. It's incredible!"
Simple joys of simple people—finding that there's more than one way to tie strings together. I smiled broadly at the bee.
"Yeah, there are knots upon knots. And you will be tying them a lot. From now on, this is what you should keep hammers together with. This way, they will need fewer repairs and replacements."
The bees that surrounded me nodded unanimously.
"It's already so much easier to work with wood. Now it will be even easier…"
"Imagine all the things we can make now, Father! Tying things together."
I pumped my fists in the air.
"Yes! Just these two things: knives and strings, but you can make so much with them! Like tying knives to sticks to make an axe. Or just sharpening sticks with a knife to make a spear! Or even tie a string to a branch to make a bow. The possibilities are endless!"
My tiny research-industrial complex collectively cheered.
"Sharp sticks—this is like stinging on a stick!"
"Amazing—but can we just tie stingers to sticks instead?"
"We got to try, sisters!"
Their enthusiasm was so great that I actually had to put it down a little.
"Yeah, the possibilities are really endless. So endless, actually, that I need to establish a research-production queue. In simpler terms—experiment in order of priority. I will tell you what the priority is."
All my Sergeant Craftsmen slumped their shoulders and sighed.
"Don't worry, you will get to experiment your fill."
"But the first order of business is going to be—"
I was interrupted by a Warrior Bee who flew right into the workshop.
"Father, there is urgent news!"