Admiringly the grey-haired child looked at its handiwork through thick-lensed glasses. "It's been an interesting game," Lee thought, "it might turn out to be a valuable new experiment. I'll sit down now and observe what happens...." He went over to the desk again and settled down. He opened his files and laid out his charts on the desk and there were colored pencils to be sharpened for the entries. He was glad of that; his conscious mind rejoiced now over every little pursuit of routine, of normalcy, of the established scientific order of things; it concentrated on these. Pencil in hand, reclined in comfort, his heartbeat even, he kept expectant eyes upon the staggered rows of fluorescent screens, ready to note any significant developments. He didn't have to wait long; their strange sixth sense, the telepathy of their collective brains, the spirit of the hive with the immortality of their race for its supreme law, had already told them of a promised land and of new worlds to conquer. On the fluorescent screens Lee watched their preparations for the big drive: The nasicorn-soldiers clotting together at the exit tunnels like assault troops at the bow of invasion barges when the bottom scrapes the landing beach; the fierce, virginal workers struggling up from the deep shelters of the nurseries, carrying in their mandibles the squirming larvae, the living future of the race. The walls of the queen's prison broken down in the innermost redoubt and the guards closing in on the idol of the race, moving the big white body like a juggernaut. In a matter of minutes the "activity" and "emotionality" curves on the fluorescent screens surged to heights which Lee had never seen. It started with the crossbreeds of "_termes-bellicosus_," with army-ants and devil-ants, and spread quickly all along the line of non-belligerent varieties. Famine had given them the impetus to change their mode of life; famine, the inexorable tyrant, whipped them onward into their exodus. On the foremost fluorescent screens Lee saw it start: Small groups of warriors reconnoitering into no-man's-land and quickly darting back again.... And then the dark columns of the first assault wave descending from their city-gates, lock-stepped like Prussian guards of old, marching as if to the beat of drums. On the visi-screens which magnified them a hundred times they looked an awesome sight with the rostrums of their horns, bigger than all the rest of their bodies, swinging like turrets of battleships being trained upon the enemy. From the loudspeakers which magnified all noise a hundred times, the excited tremors of their bodies, the locked steps of a million feet swelled into a vast roar sounding almost like thunder.