Hellstrom's Hive

The vibration of the Hive began somewhere far down below the aerie and reached upward and outward with shock waves that would register on seismic recorders all around the planet. When it stopped, Hellstrom thought: Earthquake! It was a fearful prayer in his mind, however, not a recognition. Let it be an earthquake and not the destruction of Project 40!

He had just begun to relax from the recapture of Janvert not twenty minutes ago when the vibration began.

The aerie stopped creaking and there was a moment of abnormal silence, as though all of the workers of the Hive held their breath simultaneously. In that moment, Hellstrom moved through the aerie’s gloom, noting that the lights still functioned, the screens still glowed. He said, “Damage reports, please. Somebody get me Saldo.” The note of calm command in his own voice surprised him.

Within seconds, they had Saldo on a screen at the right side of the arc. Hellstrom could see a section of a wide gallery behind Saldo, dust settling there.

“They held me!” Saldo greeted him. The younger man looked shocked and just the smallest amount cowed. One of the big symbiotes who attended the researchers moved in behind Saldo then and thrust him aside. The scarred, ebony features of a researcher filled the screen. A pink palm came up in front of the face then and the fingers winked in Hive-sign.

Hellstrom translated aloud for those around him who could not see the screen.

“We do not appreciate the distrust represented by your observer with orders to delay the power connection for our project. Let the alarm you felt be a small sign of our displeasure. We could have warned you to expect it, but your behavior did not deserve such warning. Recall the resonance we all felt in the Hive and rest assured that the effect was of an order many thousands of times greater at the locus of our projected impulse. Project 40, except for some small refinements which may include damping the local feedback, can be judged a complete success.”

“Where was the locus of your projection?” Hellstrom asked.

“In the Pacific Ocean near the islands that the Outsiders call Japan. They will observe a new island there shortly.”

The big face moved out of the screen’s range to be replaced by Saldo.

“They restrained me,” Saldo protested. “They held me and ignored my orders. They connected the power and wouldn’t let me call you. They disobeyed you, Nils!”

Hellstrom flashed a “calm yourself” sign and, as Saldo fell silent, said, “Complete the loose ends of your observation, Saldo. Assemble a report, including development time for the refinements they mention, then report to me personally in full.” He signaled to close the communication, turned away.

The Hive had its defensive-offensive weapon, then, but with it came many other problems. The crisis disturbance that had spread all through the Hive had left its mark on the researchers. Their ordinary irritability had been amplified into a species of revolt. There was damage to the Hive’s interdependence system. This might buy them the time to recover, though. Whatever else it needed, the Hive needed long periods of undisturbed time most of all. The big changes devoured great blocks of time. He could see this when he compared himself to the new breed. Hellstrom held few illusions about himself. He really preferred to vocalize, and Hive-sign always represented a strain on him, but for some of the new breed, this pattern was reversed. Hellstrom knew he took an unhealthy enjoyment in the possession of a distinct name and an Outsider-like identity, but most of the Hive’s workers were free of this bondage.

I am a transitional form, he told himself, and someday I will be obsolete.