Hellstrom's Hive

“They refused to answer our hail,” Saldo said. He sounded grimly smug about it.

Saldo stood beside Hellstrom in the gloomy north end of the aerie while workers behind them completed restoring the chamber to its former efficiency. Only a shadowy louver stood between Hellstrom and the wrecked van just inside the gate. Flames still crackled in the van and around it. The gas had caught fire, blazing up with a roar, then exploding to set little spot fires in the surrounding grass. There would be a holocaust down there soon if the workers couldn’t get to it.

“I heard,” Hellstrom said.

“What shall be our response?” Saldo asked with an odd formality. He was trying too hard to be cool, Hellstrom observed.

“Use our own guns. Try a few shots around them. See if you can’t herd them down there to the north. That would give us a chance to extinguish the fires. Have you already sent the patrols out to watch the lower road from town?”

“Yes. Do you want me to have them swing back and take this pair from behind?”

“No. How’re we doing at getting a stunwand below them?”

“They’re not in a good position for that. We could hit some of our own people. You know how a hard charge bounces in dirt and rocks.”

“Who’s in charge of the outer patrol?”

“Ed.”

Hellstrom nodded. Ed was a strong personality. He could control the workers if anyone could. They must not, under any circumstances, kill this pair. He felt this with growing certainty. The Hive needed survivors to question. He had to find out what had prompted the attack. Hellstrom asked if this had been explained to Ed.

“Yes, I did it myself.” Saldo sounded puzzled. Hellstrom was acting with a strange reserve.

“Get started herding that pair,” Hellstrom said.

Saldo moved back to obey, returned in a minute.

“Never forget,” Hellstrom said, “that the Hive is a flyspeck when compared to existing Outsider forces. We need that pair out there—for their information and for possible use in a compromise. Has the telephone been restored yet?”

“No. The break is somewhere near town. They must’ve cut the line.”

“Likely.”

“Why would they compromise with us?” Saldo asked. “If they can wipe us out—” He broke off, shuddered at the enormity of this thought. He felt the panicked inclination to disband the Hive, scatter the workers, hope for a few survivors to restart. Surely, all of them would perish if they stayed here. One atomic bomb—well, ten or twelve atomic bombs and—if enough workers got away now . . .

Saldo began trying to express these fearful ideas to Hellstrom.

“We’re not quite ready for that,” Hellstrom said. “I have taken the necessary steps if the worst should happen. Our records are ready to be destroyed quickly if we—”

“Our records?”

“You know it would have to be done. I’ve sent the emergency signal to those who’ve been our eyes and ears Outside. As of now, they have been cut away from us. They may have to live out their lives now, eating mostly Outsider foods, obeying Outsider laws, accepting brief lives and empty Outsider pleasures as the final price of their service to us. They’ve always, known this might happen. But some of them can survive. Any of them could begin a new Hive. No matter what happens here, Saldo, we are not completely lost.”

Saldo closed his eyes, shuddering at the thought of such a

prospect.

“Have Janvert restored to a more complete awareness,” Hellstrom said. “We may need an envoy.”

Saldo’s eyes snapped open. “Envoy? Janvert?”

“Yes, and see why it’s taking so long to gather in that last pair. They’ve obviously been herded out into the range. I can see workers beginning to fight the fires.” He stared out the window. “They’d better be quick about it, too. If we have too much smoke, we could get Outsider fire crews in here.” He looked back at the observation stations. “Do we have a phone connection yet?”

“No,” one of the observers called.

“Then use radio,” Hellstrom said. “Call the district Forest Service office in Lakeview. Tell them we’ve had a little grass fire here, but our people have it under control. We will not need Outside help.”

Saldo turned away to obey his instructions and marveled at the way all the scattered pieces of Hive security were gathered into Hellstrom’s consciousness. No one but Hellstrom had thought about the danger of Outside fire fighters. Another observer was calling to Hellstrom as Saldo let himself out of the aerie.

Hellstrom took the call, recognizing a physical-research specialist on the screen. The specialist began talking as soon as Hellstrom came into range of the pickup. “Get your interfering observer out of here, Nils!”

“Has the observer caused trouble in the lab?” Hellstrom asked.

“We are no longer in the lab.”

“Not in—where are you?”

“We have taken over the main gallery at level fifty, the entire gallery. We must have it cleared for our installation. Your observer insists you told him to stay here.”

Hellstrom thought about that gallery—more than a mile long. “Why do you need the entire gallery?” he asked. “We have essential support—”

“Your stupid workers can use the side tunnels!” the specialist snarled. “Get this cretin out of here! He is delaying us.”

“The entire gallery,” Hellstrom said, “is quite a—”

“Your own information made this necessary,” the specialist explained in a tone of weary patience. “The Outsider observations you so kindly brought us. The problem is a matter of size. We are going to use the entire gallery. If your observer interferes, you will find him in the vats.”

The connection was broken with an angry blap!