"The Idol of the Bees"

#0098. The Idol is great, but greater still are the other actors, the other cosmic agents who file their dossiers and reports amongst the cabinets and libraries of the secret place. But the Idol of the Bees is still majestic. He gives form to the hives and collects the intellects of a thousand million fragile little pieces. Your majesty, they say to him, and he bows and they bow and they dance together. He scatters them to the wind. They are like fairy dust to him. They collect nectar and they spit honey and they worship at his altar. He has no real equal. He is as scared and as alone as anyone else is.