Visiting the quarantine village

"Father, you shouldn't be here! This is a *quarantine*. What if you get sick?"

"Quiet, quiet! My business here is important, and look, I'm *protected*! I will be fine!" I pointed at the leather mask that covered the lower half of my face.

It was hard to breathe in this thing. Unlike regular cloth masks, this one *actually* blocked the airflow.

Did it block any contaminants?

Maybe.

All healthy bees working in the quarantine village had to wear those masks—like the Researcher Bee in front of me. But nobody was *truly* protected from the Paleness in the Bee Empire, anyway. The masks were a placebo.

The Researcher Bee, Writingdown, had noticed me flying in, and immediately tried to stop me; unlike the Warrior Bees guarding the place, who just watched this going on with mild puzzlement.

Now, Writingdown frowned.