Hellstrom's Hive

The conference room held an air of detached waiting as Dzule Peruge strode in and took the Chief’s chair at the head of the long table. He glanced at his wristwatch as he put his briefcase on the table: 5:14 P.M. In spite of it being Sunday, they were all present, all of the important men and the one woman who shared responsibility for the Agency.

Without any of the usual preparations, Peruge sat down and said, “I’ve had an extremely trying day. To cap it, the Chief called me just two hours ago and told me I would have to deliver his report to you. He had to take care of some questions from upstairs. That, of course, took priority.”

He swept his gaze around the room. It was a quiet and cushioned place, this penthouse board room. Gray curtains covered the double windows on the north side, giving the sun’s afternoon rays a feeling of cool, underwater light as they filtered through to the dark, polished wood of the tabletop.

There were some impatient coughs around the table, but they took the replacement without objection.

Peruge squared the briefcase in front of him, extracted its contents—three thin folders. He said, “You’ve all seen the Hellstrom file. The Chief tells me he circulated it three weeks ago. You will be glad to know that we have now cracked the code on page 17 of the original papers. It was a rather interesting code based on a four-unit configuration that our people tell me was derived from the DNA code. Very ingenious.”

He cleared his throat, pulled one thin sheet from the top folder, scanned it. “Again, this refers to Project 40, but this time distinctly in terms of a weapon. The exact words are ‘a sting that will make our workers supreme over the entire world.’ Very suggestive.”

A man down the table on Peruge’s left said, “Poppycock! This Hellstrom produces movies. That could be a dramatic piece of business for a film.”

“There is more,” Peruge said. “It includes partial instructions for an exchange circuit which our man at Westinghouse assures us is real. He was quite excited by the implications. He called it ‘another key to the puzzle.’ He concedes that it is an incomplete key; where the circuit would fit in the larger scheme is not indicated. However, there was one more item in the coded section.”

Peruge paused for effect, glanced once around the table. “The message is quite direct. It instructs the bearer of the subject papers to transmit his future reports through a man in Washington, D.C. The man is named. He is the senator whose activities we have come to question.”

Peruge wanted to laugh. Their reaction was precisely what the Chief had said it would be. He had their undivided attention, a thing seldom granted in this room of giants.

The man directly at his left said, “No doubt of that?”

“None whatsoever.”