The Bees. Laline Paull

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СКАЧАТЬ turned her gaze to the priestess.

      ‘Yes. Very receptive.’ Sister Sage looked at her, then pointed to a new area of the mosaic. ‘Now stand over there.’

      Obediently Flora moved, feeling how the comb transmitted subtly different vibrations and frequencies. She adjusted her feet to receive the strongest signal, and the priestess watched with keen attention.

      ‘You feel something – but do you comprehend it?’

      Flora wanted to answer that she did, but her physical bliss prevented her speaking and she could only stare. At her silence, Sister Sage relaxed.

      ‘Good. Knowledge only causes pain to your kin.’

      As they walked on, Flora’s euphoria stabilised into a feeling of deep physical relaxation and heightened perception. Only now did she fully appreciate the beauty of Sister Sage’s elegant form, how her pale gold fur lay in silky stripes against the thin brown gloss of her bands, themselves exactly matched by the shade of her six legs. Long translucent wings folded down her back and her antennae tapered to fine points.

      They continued deeper into the hive, Flora entranced by its carved and frescoed walls of ancient scent and the beautiful blend of her living sisters. She did not feel how the golden tiles changed underfoot and the bare pale wax began, or how the priestess spread her cloak of scent over them both as they entered an empty corridor which held no vibration at all.

      Only when they stopped before a small plain doorway did she feel how far they had travelled, and that she was still very hungry.

      ‘Soon.’ Sister Sage answered her as if she had spoken. She touched a panel in the wall and the door opened.

Three

      The little chamber was tranquil and bare, and a beautiful soft smell filtered through the walls. The pale hexagonal tiles showed a wide tread of past wear across the centre of the room and Flora set her feet wider in case there was any information to detect.

      ‘All long gone.’ Sister Sage had her back turned but she still knew what Flora did. ‘And you will hold your tongue.’

      Then came the sound of running feet, and another bee burst into the room. She stopped in shock at the sight of the priestess standing before her.

      ‘Sister Sage! We were not expecting you.’ By her hard shiny bands she was a senior, but her fur was yellow, her face coarse and her antennae blunt. She bowed deeply. Sister Sage inclined her head.

      ‘Sister Teasel. Are you well?’

      ‘Never doubt it; every Teasel as strong and willing as ever. You will not find sickness in this kin! Why? Has someone been found ailing?’

      ‘No. Not at all.’ Sister Sage’s attention rested for a moment on the far wall. Flora looked too. Where the worn tiles ended was the faintest outline of a third door.

      Sister Teasel clutched her hands together.

      ‘A visit from a priestess of the Melissae is always an honour – but did not Sister in her wisdom order this side of the Nursery closed off? Otherwise someone would surely have been stationed here to receive you—’

      ‘I wished to avoid notice.’ Sister Sage gazed down the dim corridor from where Sister Teasel had come. Sister Teasel took the opportunity to stare at Flora. Alarmed at her tangible disapproval, Flora attempted a clumsy curtsy. Sister Teasel rapped her hard on the closest knee.

      ‘Forward, never splayed!’ She looked to Sister Sage. ‘Such boldness! But by her wet fur she is newly hatched – I do not understand.’

      ‘We were obliged to wait while a drone emerged. She saw such antics there.’

      ‘Oh, a new prince! Honour to our hive – was he very handsome straight away? Or does it come upon them as their fur rises? How I long—’

      ‘Sister Teasel, how many nurses have you lost?’

      ‘Since last inspection?’ Sister Teasel stared in alarm. ‘Compared to other departments, hardly any. We are not like foragers, we keep ourselves safe from the outer world and its perils – but even our kin will sometimes suffer—’ She cleared her throat. ‘Six, Sister, since last inspection. I move them on for the slightest sign of confusion or hint of ailing – we take no chances. And of course, we have only the purest kin here, and the most obedient.’ She coughed. ‘Six, Sister.’

      Sister Sage nodded. ‘And what do you hear, of other departments?’

      ‘Oh! Mere canteen gossip, idle tittle-tattle, nothing I would repeat—’

      ‘Please do.’ Sister Sage focused her attention on Sister Teasel, her scent flexing in the air. Flora looked down at the waxen tiles and did not move. Sister Teasel twisted her hands together.

      ‘Sister Sage, we are very fortunate in the Nursery, plenty of food, everything brought to us – we do not feel the shortages, we face no dangers …’ She faltered.

      ‘Come, Sister. Unburden yourself.’ Sister Sage was calm and kind, and Sister Teasel dared look up.

      ‘They say the season is deformed by rain, that the flowers shun us and fall unborn, that foragers are falling from the air and no one knows why!’ She plucked at her fur convulsively. ‘They say we will starve and the babies will all die, and my little nurses are worrying so much I fear they will forget—’ She shook her head. ‘Not that they do, Sister, ever, for they are most strictly supervised and the rotas are always guarded, so even if they could count – you may kill me if it is not so.’

      ‘You need not give permission.’

      Sister Teasel burst out laughing and reached for one of her hands.

      ‘Oh, Sister Sage, it does me such good to jest with you – now I have shared the burden, I am no longer fearful!’

      ‘That is the role of the Melissae: to carry all fears, so the hive is free.’ A calming scent flowed from Sister Sage and filled the chamber.

      ‘Amen,’ said Sister Teasel. ‘But oh for the courage of the kin of Thistle.’

      ‘Why? What do they do?’ Too late Flora remembered herself.

      Sister Teasel glared at her in outrage, her own distress forgotten.

      ‘She speaks? The impudence! Sister Sage, please, spare my curiosity and tell me the reason for her presence. If it is to clean, then I shall add her to the next detail – but I hope all Sanitation is not now possessed of tongues for we shall be in uproar!’ She glared at Flora. ‘Obstreperous dirty creatures.’

      ‘Does Sister Teasel stand in judgement of our purpose?’

      ‘No, Sister, never. Forgive me.’

      ‘Then kindly recall that variation is not the same as deformity.’

      ‘Sister graces me with her superior wisdom – though to my ignorant eyes those terms are one and the same.’ Sister Teasel stood back from Flora. ‘How monstrously large she is – and that СКАЧАТЬ