by Kate Moretti
Vienna’s look of dislike shifts to one of appraisal.
“To do what?” Wyatt asks.
I unstrap the utility belt from my waist and move to stand next to Vienna, leaning against the cool wall. I don’t bother trying to keep the anger or bitterness out of my voice. “To take down the Hive.”
Wyatt snorts. “You’re insane. Both of you.” He shakes his head, focusing on me. “Why would you risk it, Fi? You’re the best in our class, sure to make full researcher in no time.”
“Some things are more important.” I’d always been proud of what I was learning at the Hive, of the future I was forging for myself, until I discovered the truth of what I would be doing. “Wyatt, have you ever wondered how it is that we’ve studied honeybees, tried to increase their population for years, and yet all the hives are contained in the same space as when we started?”
He shrugs and answers mechanically, giving the answer we’ve been force-fed since the day we joined the research team: “CGD. The disease is mutating faster than we can capture antibodies.”
“What if I told you CGD was a man-made disease?” I pause to let this sink in. “That we’re the ones mutating and administering it? We, who are supposed to be saving Apis mellifera, are the ones keeping their population constant.”
He’s silent for a minute, glancing from Vienna to me, disbelief apparent on his face. “I’d ask to see proof.”
“Spoken like a true scientist,” I say, a small smile forming on my lips. I push away from the wall and take a step toward him. “That’s what I was getting tonight from your father’s email account—communications between the Senate and Supersedure researchers, directing them to continue with what they call the CGDI, Colony Ghost Disorder Initiative.”
“But why would the government do that? They’re supposed to be for the people. How does keeping the honeybee population stagnant help their cause?” He scratches his head, puzzled. “Their mission is to increase food resources so people stop starving on the streets. Everything you’re saying contradicts that.”
“You bet your ass it does,” Vienna interjects. “Fear is the ultimate motivator, and the easiest way for the government to maintain power.”
“We’re responsible for the disease.” I grab my tosser, open the files Vienna and I copied from Dr. Kirk Cruz’s email account, and pass the device to Wyatt. “If you don’t believe me, read the correspondence. Or, if you’d rather, look at what’s really in the vials we filter into honeybee hives. I’ve done my own analysis.”
Wyatt’s face falls as he pages through the documentation, the truth settling in. “I need to sit down,” he finally says, his pallor as white as the walls of the Hive.
Vienna rolls her desk chair over, and Wyatt slumps into it, shoulders hunched. “But all those hives are…” He swallows. “Destroyed.”
“Not all of them,” I say with a wink. “There’s something else you should see.”
Wyatt and I stand in a room that connects to the warehouse, wearing matching protective jumpsuits and hats with netted veils to protect our faces.
“This is incredible,” Wyatt says, staring in awe at the apiary I built from scratch.
There’s always a humming undercurrent in this room, but right now, it’s as soft and subdued as the night. Woven-bamboo sun hives hang from the ceiling, and the old storefront windows are open to give the honeybees easy access to nearby fields of dandelions. A few of the fuzzy insects trickle in and out of their hives, idly circling to see if there’s anything worth investigating.
“All the hives that were swarming and marked for the disorder—well, I intervened,” I explain. “I put the bees to sleep with a condensed-smoke formula, and instead of disposing of the hive like we’re supposed to after a collapse, I brought them here.”
“You thief,” he says, but the way he says it makes me blush, and there’s a fluttering in my stomach I’m not accustomed to.
Vienna bangs on the door connecting the warehouse to the apiary. “You two about done? It’s time to get this show on the road.”
“She doesn’t come in here?” Wyatt asks.
“No. Bees make her nervous. Part of the reason she flunked herself out of the program. Her talents lie elsewhere.”
We shuffle back into the warehouse and peel off our protective gear. “Is it just the two of you running this whole operation?” Wyatt asks.
“For now.” I redo my ponytail, fastening my long hair with a band. “We’re hoping to get more supporters after we get word out about what’s happening.”
“Speaking of,” Vienna interjects, sucking on a lollipop. Lucky for her, corn fructose is never in short supply. “Now that you’re done playing with the bugs, let’s get down to business. I encrypted our server data with so many deviations, not even a supercomputer could trace it back to us. All you have to do is press Send, and every employee at the Hive will have a copy of the CGDI.”
She hands me the tosser, and I scan the message, which is set up under a blind email account. “Excellent. Good job, Vienna,” I say, but I don’t press Send. “Before we do that, we have to make sure people outside the Hive get the message, too, so there’s not just another cover-up.”
Vienna nods, pointing at me with her lollipop. “I’m glad you brought that up, Fi. I’ve been working on a little something. My pride and joy. A program that, once tapped into a network, harnesses radio waves and broadcasts whatever we want it to say.”
Vienna pauses, hand on hip, thoroughly enjoying the look on Wyatt’s face, a mixture of shock and respect. I’m impressed, too. I’ve seen Vienna do remarkable things with a computer over the last year, but this is beyond brilliant.
She continues, “Once we get access to a server, it’ll do the rest. I say we start with the old Capital WWDC radio station. It’ll take some work to get it up and running, but nothing we can’t handle.”
“But no one’ll be listening to a radio station that’s been down for decades,” Wyatt says. “Why not start with Hive Public Radio?”
Vienna barks a laugh. “Because there’s no way to break into the HPR server. Trust me, I’ve tried, and if I can’t do it, no one can.”
“I can,” Wyatt says, his eyes challenging. He digs in the pocket of his beat-up jeans and pulls out a Hive security badge. On the front is a picture of Wyatt’s father, and on the back are two digital passcodes: one’s the standard employee ID, but I’ve never seen the other one before, and the numbers change every ten seconds. “My father has access. See this code? It has HPR engraved next to it, meaning we can use this to tap into the server.”
“Why do you have your dad’s security badge?” I ask, my mouth going dry.
“You’re not the only one who’s started questioning the workings of the Hive,” Wyatt says quietly.
“But won’t he notice it’s gone?” I ask in a panicked voice.
“Not until he leaves for work tomorrow morning, and by then, it’ll be back where it belongs.”
I breathe a little easier but don’t relax completely.
“This means breaking into the Hive again,” Vienna says with a meaningful glance at my knee.
I hobble over to the boxes stacked in the corner and sift through until I find a first-aid kit. I swallow a couple aspirin before rolling my cargo pant leg over my knee. I flinch. It’s ugly, puffy, and swollen, but I’m able to bend it, so it’s probably just bruised. I wrap gauze tightly around my kneecap, securing the ends.
I test standing, rocking on the balls of my feet. “I can do it. I may not be able to run, but I can hide.”
“And you won’t be alone this time. I’ll go with you.”
“Wyatt, think about the risk you’re taking,” I say seriously. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I’m sure.” He sounds so resolute that I know there’ll be no arguing with him. “B
esides, it’s less of a risk for me. Director’s son and all, they’ll be clamoring to cover it up if I’m caught.”
I think of my mom, her hands chapped from hours of dousing them in cleaning chemicals, her eyes bloodshot from working all night. “Vienna, if anything happens…” A lump in my throat stops me.
Fortunately, Vienna understands. She squeezes my hand. “I’ll get your mom and bring her here. She’ll be safe—I promise.”
“When should we do this?” Wyatt asks.
I feel nauseated, like there are thousands of bees buzzing around my stomach. I force a wry grin on my face. “No time like the present.”
Wyatt leads the way through the main entrance of the Hive with his long-legged lope. I’ve forgone my black ski mask but am still sporting my black sweater and cargo pants, my tosser tucked safely in my back pocket.
If anyone stops us, Wyatt and I are going to say we’re on a date, and we chose this odd nighttime hour to keep our burgeoning romance a secret. If it weren’t for the serious nature of our mission, this would make my face flush a deeper shade of red than my hair.
“Good luck,” Vienna whispers in my earpiece, which is awfully sentimental for her.
“Talk to you soon,” I respond before removing the headset and stuffing it in my pocket.
The double-paned glass doors are stately and intimidating, as is the heavily muscled security guard at the front desk. Wyatt nods at him as though they’re old friends; perhaps they are. “Hey, Calvin. How’s it flyin’ tonight?”
“Quiet. You two are the only ones I’ve seen in over an hour,” Calvin says gruffly.
Wyatt drapes an arm over my shoulder, his body warm against mine. I lean on him, relieving my aching knee. “Let’s hope it stays that way,” he says with a wink. “We’re hoping for a little alone time, if you know what I mean.”
Calvin chuckles, waving us through. “To be young again.”
I spare a thought for Calvin, an innocent bystander to the Hive’s corruption. I hope what Wyatt and I are about to do won’t get him in trouble.
We pass the grand marble staircase, the centerpiece of the lobby, and continue to the elevators tucked behind it, framed with polished mahogany wood. Wyatt scans his father’s security badge and punches the button for level two, where Supersedure is located. All told, this is a much classier way to infiltrate the Hive.
The elevator door opens to the stark-white hallway I snuck down earlier tonight, except there’s no guard in sight this time.
It’s unbelievable how easy this is. Too easy, my common sense says.
When we get to Supersedure, Wyatt drops his arm from my shoulder, hurries to a computer, and swipes the touch screen to life. He brings up a page I’ve never seen before and logs in, using the passcode from his father’s badge.
I set the tosser by the monitor and slip my headset on. “Vienna, we’re connected to the HPR’s server. How long till we’re ready?”
“Gotcha. Uploading my program now.” She pauses and then exhales. “And executing. You just have to stay put for—”
But I don’t hear the next thing Vienna says. The door opens behind us. Wyatt and I spin around, closing the distance between us to block the monitor as best we can.
“So that’s where my badge went,” Dr. Kirk Cruz says, standing with his arms crossed by the door. He’s shorter than Wyatt is, and he has remnants of the same sandy hair, but his eyes are cold.
“The Director’s here,” I whisper into my mouthpiece, trying not to move my lips.
Vienna swears under her breath. “Two minutes. There’s nothing I can do to speed it up.”
“Wyatt, what are you doing?” Dr. Cruz asks. It’s not so much a question as a demand. There’s a smile on his face, a phony one meant to lure us into a false sense of comfort.
Wyatt grasps my hand, his palm clammy in mine, and squeezes. “I just wanted to show Fi your most recent paper on CGD. I thought it’d be useful. She has some interesting theories about the mutations.”
I’ve had plenty of practice at not showing my emotions. I keep my face impassive, eyeing Dr. Cruz incredulously.
“Ms. Reyes knows the appropriate channels to go through with any research findings.” He nods at me. “I’m sure she doesn’t appreciate you jeopardizing her good standing by bringing her here.”
Wyatt’s eyes are downcast as he shrugs. “I was just trying to impress her.”
“And that’s the best idea you had?” Dr. Cruz steps forward and catches a glimpse of the screen behind us. His smile fades away, replaced with tight-lipped grim understanding.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he hisses. “Wyatt, leave us. Now.”
I don’t expect Wyatt to stay. After all, he just found out the truth about the Hive, and his loyalty to his father runs deep. But he surprises me. “No, I’m staying.”
“I mean it, Wyatt. Leave now,” his father growls through clenched teeth. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself involved in.”
Wyatt opens his mouth to argue, but I let go of his hand and nudge his shoulder. “Wyatt, please go. Remember what I showed you.” My meaning couldn’t be plainer; someone needs to take care of the bees in the warehouse.
Wyatt holds my gaze then finally nods in understanding. With one last look at his father, he leaves, slamming the door behind him.
“I’m still waiting for an answer, Ms. Reyes,” Dr. Cruz says. “Why did you highjack the server? And why have you been stealing equipment from the labs? We’ve known it was you the whole time.”
“Okay, we’ve harnessed the signal,” Vienna says through the earpiece. “Whenever you’re ready, we can record the message…” She trails off, not voicing the impossibility of the situation.
There’s nothing I can say or do to get Wyatt’s father to leave, and I have no other way to get the message out before I’m apprehended.
Then I hear a faint buzzing in the corner of the room: one stray honeybee somehow escaped the Apiary. Its livelihood is at the heart of this confrontation. It buzzes toward me, giving me hope, and suddenly, I know what to do.
I turn away from Dr. Cruz so my lips are shielded just long enough to utter, as loudly as I dare, “Record this and broadcast it.”
Pretending to anxiously rub my neck, I shift my small mouthpiece outward. “Well, Dr. Cruz,” I say with all the confidence I can muster, “it’s like this. I found out what the Hive’s really doing to the honeybees. Giving them CGD, keeping the population low so the Senate stays in control.”
He laughs and takes his spectacles off, rubbing his eyes. “Very good, Ms. Reyes. How did you find out?”
“I decoded vials of the antibodies and found they’d been manipulated before being administered to the hives. From there, it was easy to obtain proof, correspondence between you and the Senate. I take it the other branches of the Hive know this is going on?”
He doesn’t respond, just glares at me, his cold eyes burning with hatred.
“No matter. They’ll know soon enough.”
Dr. Cruz finally speaks: “I’d hate to see you give everything up. Your top spot in the program, your entire future…”
“You think I want to be a part of a program that destroys innocent creatures? That governs with fear?” I shake my head, my long ponytail swishing back and forth. “You and your program can go to hell.”
Dr. Cruz clasps his hands in front of him and says, “What would your mother say? I’ve overheard her telling the other custodial workers”—I hate the way he says that, as if he were talking about something disgusting like a slug or the mites we have to pick out of honeybee hives—“how brilliant you are. The pride in her voice. Think of everything she’s done to get you here. It’d be a shame for that to go to waste.”
“My mother would never want me to be a part of something like this.�
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“I bet she’d reconsider if it were her own life at stake.” He lets these words sink in, their full impact making my blood run cold. “We’ve detained her downstairs. Here’s how this works. You give me the proof you have, or you lose everything and everyone you’ve ever cared about.”
I have to trust that someone out there is listening to this broadcast, plus I have one more trick up my sleeve. “You think anyone will believe you? Our entire conversation has been playing over HPR airwaves. Soon, everyone will know the full extent of what you’ve done.”
In a flash, I grab my tosser and send the anonymous email that Vienna encrypted to every Hive employee.
Dr. Cruz lunges at me, but I’m ready for him. I duck underneath his outstretched arms and run for the Apiary door, but he lunges again and, this time, manages to get ahold of my ponytail. He pulls my hair hard, snapping my head back.
He towers over me, and an icy feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. When honeybees are provoked, they sting, but the catch is, they leave so much of themselves behind, they can’t survive for long afterward. Maybe I’m no different.
The door crashes open, and Wyatt charges in with Calvin right behind him. Calvin pulls Dr. Cruz, who is still lashing at me with his hands, off me.
“You stupid girl! Do you have any idea what you’ve done? What they’ll do to me?” He’s spitting and shouting, clawing to get free. “You think this stops with just me? You’ve started a war with very powerful people.”
Before Calvin hauls him off, I look Dr. Cruz in the eye. “We won this battle. You tell that scumbag boss of yours that this isn’t over. We’re coming for them next.”
Wyatt helps me to my feet, and I lean against him, massaging my scalp. I hear a celebratory whoop from Vienna and smile. The solitary honeybee that’s been naïvely buzzing around the room lands on my shoulder.
