Hellstrom's Hive

Mimeca sat in the farmhouse living room waiting for the arrival of Janvert’s “law” when the first explosion rocked the building. A piece of metal from the first van ripped through the north wall a foot above her head. It crashed into the opposite wall and stuck there, smoking. Shots, screams, explosions erupted in the yard.

Ducking low, Mimeca sprinted for the kitchen. Mrs. Niles stored a stunwand in there. She crashed through the swinging door, surprising Mrs. Niles, who was using a stunwand to clear the yard between the farmhouse and barn. Mimeca gave the scene only a passing glance. Her own presence to play the part of Fancy was vital to the Hive’s survival. She had to save herself. A door behind Mrs. Niles opened onto solidly built old stairs into the original root cellar. Mimeca jerked the door open, thundered down the stairs. There was a crash overhead, shots, breaking glass. She dashed for the fake shelves that concealed a tunnel to the barn, squeezed through. Workers armed with stunwands were pouring toward her from the other end. Mimeca ran panting past them, through the door to the barn basement. The tunnel behind her was already empty of defenders and she could hear the hiss of mucilage filling the area, plugging it.

A short hall stretched in front of Mimeca, open at the far end on a scene that only the Hive-born would recognize as not one of utter confusion. She trotted toward the area. Workers were dashing about, packages were being carried toward the gallery head, a temporary repeater station had been installed against a wall on the left and guardworkers were keeping it clear there.

As Mimeca entered this area, the concealed hatch over the emergency stairs opened above her. Saldo and Hellstrom came dashing down followed by armed workers. The opening of the hatch amplified the clamor of battle overhead, but the noise died abruptly. There came one more explosion, another shot. She heard the brain-resonating humming of many stunwands.

Silence.

Hellstrom saw Mimeca, signaled her to join him, but continued his course toward the temporary repeater station. At his approach, a senior observer turned, recognized him, and said, “We’ve accounted for the ones who got this far, but there are still two more down by the fence. They’re out of stun-range from this distance. Shall we get them from behind?”

“Wait,” Hellstrom said. “Is it safe for us to go back to the aerie?”

“The two by the fence are armed with at least one machine gun.”

“I will go back upstairs,” Saldo said. “You wait here. Don’t risk yourself, Nils.”

“We’ll both go,” Hellstrom said. He motioned for Saldo to lead the way, spoke to Mimeca. “I’m glad you escaped, Fancy.”

She nodded, beginning to recover her breath.

“Wait here,” Hellstrom told her. “We may need you yet.” He turned, followed Saldo, who waited with armed workers at the stairhead. The abruptness and savagery of the attack still had Hellstrom in a state of shock. They were really into the fire now, really into it.

The studio area of the barn presented a scene of remarkably little damage except for a hole blasted in the wall to one side of the north door. Some equipment had been scattered and lay in smashed disarray there. Part of the equipment included a small hive of the new guard-bees. The survivors were buzzing around angrily, but were not attacking the Hive’s workers—a remarkable test of efficiency in the conditioning process. Hellstrom made a mental note to compliment the directors of that project and to assign additional resources to it.

The studio’s main boom had not been damaged. Saldo already was headed for its cage when Hellstrom emerged from the stairwell. Hellstrom swept his gaze around the studio as he followed. Workers’ bodies were being removed briskly by scavenger crews. Casualties, casualties, casualties! Damn those bloody murderers! Hellstrom felt himself experiencing a pure Hive reaction of violent outrage. He wanted to wave his arm to summon followers and sweep down upon the two remaining attackers, tear them apart with bare hands no matter the cost. He sensed the matching eagerness of adrenaline-filled workers all around. They would follow him at the slightest gesture. They no longer were camera crews, actors, technicians, specialists in the multiplex tasks by which the Hive collected Outsider energy/money. They were infuriated workers, every last one of them.

Hellstrom forced himself to cross calmly to the cage, joining Saldo there. He took a deep, trembling breath as he hopped up into the cage. The Hive had never been under such great threat and never before had it needed such cool thinking from its leader specialists. “Get a bullhorn,” Hellstrom told Saldo as the boom lifted them toward the aerie. “Call to the two remaining attackers that they must surrender or be killed. Try to take them alive.”

“If they resist?” It was not Saldo’s normal voice, but pure emotion-charged male, primed for attack.

“You must stop hoping they will resist,” Hellstrom said. “They are to be stunned and taken alive if at all possible. See if you can get under them in the Hive with a stunwand. That might be one way.”

The boom cage wafted them gently to the edge of the loft. Hellstrom stepped out, Saldo right behind. The aerie baffle was open, and excited voices could be heard from inside.

“Tell those workers in there to place more reliance on Hive-sign during stress periods,” Hellstrom ordered, angry. “It keeps down the hubbub and upset.”

“Yes—yes, of course, Nils.”

Saldo found himself awed by the cool command Hellstrom displayed. Here was the true mark of a leader specialist: rational assessment overpowering the anger simmering underneath. No doubt Hellstrom was angered by the attack, but he had himself completely under control.

Hellstrom stepped through the short entry to the aerie and barked, “Let’s have some order in here! Restore that baffle. Is our telephone still open to the Outside?”

The noise subsided immediately. Workers moved to obey. A security specialist, standing at the end of the curved bench that had supported the repeaters, passed a telephone to Hellstrom.

“Get the equipment back up here,” Hellstrom ordered as he took the telephone, “and send an observer down to Project 40. The observer is not to interfere or interrupt in any way, just observe. At the first word of a breakthrough, this observer is to report directly to me. Is that understood?”

“Understood,” Saldo said and moved to obey.

Hellstrom put the telephone to his ear, found it dead. He passed it back to the worker who’d given it to him. “Line’s dead. See about restoring it.”

The worker took the phone and said, “It was working just a minute ago.”

“Well, it’s dead now.”

“Who were you going to call, Nils?”

“I was going to call Washington and try to find out if the time had come to bluff.”