Ben is no dreamer. He doesn’t believe in prophecies, destinies, or magical fires. He believes in structures: in logic, design, and the quiet discipline of building something that works. To him, every problem has a solution — even chaos can be mapped, if one studies it long enough.

At first, this makes him seem disconnected from reality. While others argue about meaning and morality, Ben wants measurements. He fixes instead of questioning. But his desire to “stay out of it” turns out to be a position — and it begins to crumble when he sees what his machines are actually being used for.

He builds the tunnels. Maintains the shafts. Thinks he’s helping. But the system he supports is rotting beneath him — and by the time he realizes it, it’s too late. His creations become tools of control. His neutrality allows violence to thrive.

Ben’s role is not to fight or to lead. It’s to confront the cost of abstraction — to understand that building is never just about function, but about what and whom it serves. His path is not redemption through action, but through understanding: the quiet, painful realization that even good intentions can reinforce injustice.

And yet that realization matters. Ben changes. He steps away from the machines. He begins to listen. He learns that sometimes the most important repair isn’t structural — but moral. And that even an engineer can choose to take the system apart from within.

– The belly = indulgence, but also hidden strength

– The keys = knowledge of the system’s true map

– The air shafts = his secret paths through the machine

– The telephone = his connection to the Queen and her final truth

– The control panel = the moment when passivity becomes action

Now then, back to work — time’s getting on, as I can see. After all, if you don’t work, you don’t eat, isn’t that right?

What, you think I was hatched yesterday? If you wanted to take the main corridors, would you really have brought me along? Old Ben knows a thing or two — don’t let the scruffy look fool you.

A friend, huh? Found yourself some fine friends. And I guess I did too, thanks to you. Let’s see where all this leads.

Right, right... and sweet juice rains from the sky, eh? You’re telling me the honest folk are in prison, while the crooks roam free — is that it?

I didn’t know they were children. With that armor — how could I tell? I just saw someone dressed like a soldier, but no antennae — so, not an ant. I figured they were enemy spies. Would I have let them mess with me like that otherwise?

📘 Book I

– Introduced as an overweight technocrat with a love of snacks and a fear of chaos.

– Detains Pouchy, but is outwitted and humiliated by her.

– Mistakes a disguised Anne for a terrorist, panics, and flees.

– Witnesses the Queen’s downfall and flies into a rage.

– Helps Anne, Pouchy, and Sid navigate the underground tunnels.

– Frees Sid, takes control of the television system, and gives the Queen a voice.

– Delivers the final call to rebellion — and triggers the first uprising in Mravazonia’s history.

📗 Book II

– In the post-totalitarian society, Ben becomes Chief Inspector of Technical Systems across all anthills.

– Travels between sectors, with real authority to make on-the-spot decisions.

– Unlike Sid, who retreats, Ben takes responsibility — and uses it wisely.

– Later in the book, he plays a key role in rescuing Anne from a nearly impossible situation, using his position and resources.

– His arc is upward: from comic figure to competent savior and guardian of the new order.

📙 Book III

Engineer Ben does not reappear. His role ends with the fall of the dictatorship and his rise in the new society.

– Did Ben know the truth from the very beginning — but lacked the courage to face it?

– His loyalty to the Queen — was it ideology… or a deep, almost filial bond?

– Is he a symbol of every cog in the system that finally jams the machine?

– What happens to him after the uprising? Does he fade into the background… or help build something new?