The Tower and the Hive

by MCCAFFREY, ANNE

  Thian turned to the Admiral. “I would be in no danger because the Hivers do not recognize us as enemies or friends, or anything. They don’t recognize... any ... other ... living species.”

  “Not even those who have recently blasted all their spheres to bits?” asked the Admiral, cocking one eyebrow at Thian.

  “I won’t be in the ship, sir. I do need to be in their ambience,” Thian said in a slow, measured way. “I will bring a full squad of marines, if you feel that is necessary. I don’t. And Clancy would be here to snatch me right back if I was threatened.”

  Sam Weiman jerked his index finger up and down, the eagerness on his broad pink face suggesting that he’d be very willing to accompany any such expedition. Grm gave Thian a long searching, hopeful look.

  “You go, Prime. I go and Sam,” it said with more than usual firmness.

  All three regarded the Admiral, who looked from one to another as if he doubted their good sense.

  “Such a mission, seeing the queens in their natural habitat, would be most instructive, sir,” Sam said, his body taut with anticipation. “I’d like to take as many readings as possible, of soil, air ... anything that might be useful for our study of the Hivers as a species. And perhaps leave remotes to view while we’re still in orbit?”

  Ashiant gave a snort, then exhaled with a combination of impatience and irritation.

  “Very well,” he said, flicking his fingers to show that he was not happy with the request but permitting it. “If there is any reaction groundside, you’ll be hauled out instantly.” He fixed a basilisk stare at Clancy, who nodded vigorously in agreement.

  Sam’s face was beatific, Grm did a little dance on its feet and Thian grinned.

  “And that squad will be right there beside you ...” Ashiant pointed at each in turn. Then he twisted around, finger pointing at Clancy, who was trying to maintain an imperturbable expression, though his eyes danced. “And you don’t lose sight of them for one moment.”

  “No sir, of course, sir,” Clancy replied, sitting up as if at attention. One of the probes zigzagged and he instantly rectified its course.

  “Sir, if I may be allowed to lead the surface party,” Lieutenant Commander Semirame Kloo said, “I’d be able to assist Lieutenant Sparrow with a speedy evacuation.”

  Ashiant widened his eyes, threw both hands in the air and rose to his feet.

  “You’re all mad. Very well, Commander. Assemble a squad. Handpicked martial arts experts. I’ve seen the clips of how fast that queen can move the few times she has. Side arms, missile-loaded. I want to see where you intend to land! And you”—Ashiant pointed again to Thian, his finger shaking a bit—“wear body armor.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Ashiant glared about the room once more and then with an exasperated “Whoosh” went through to the bridge.

  “Admiral on the bridge,” was plainly heard just as the door slid shut.

  Thian brought his hands together with a loud clap. “Let’s get with it, team,” he said enthusiastically. “Sam, you get into body armor too. Grm, do you have anything similar?”

  Grm drew itself up to its full meter and a half. “I am ’Dini. I need no armor against queens.”

  I could throw Grm back by myself, if I had to, Semirame said with a sniff. Then she held up her wrist com and started snapping out her orders.

  “Shall I keep on with the probes?” Clancy asked.

  “Please, Clancy. We ought to have a full surface scan so we can map all the Hiver installations. Get Lea Day up here to help, and who’s that other good telekinetic on board?”

  “Vlad Ivanov in the machine shop,” Thian said. “He’ll do fine if he’s available.”

  “He is,” Semirame said, interrupting herself. “Thought he’d be needed. And have you picked out our landing spot?”

  “Yes.” Thian pointed to one of the unused screens in the bank ranged across the bulkhead. A scene came up from some of the initial footage of their day’s scanning of Arcadia.

  “By a collection facility?” Semirame asked in surprise.

  “Why not? That space right there.” Thian put the cursor on the spot. “Nice open space for the shuttle, good visibility. Computer, print screen five.” The hard copy rapidly extruded from the unit and he handed it to Semirame, who frowned as she scanned it. “Copy to the Admiral’s screen. I’ll leave it up for you, Clancy.”

  “Thanks,” his cousin said drolly.

  Then Thian flicked his fingers at Sam Weiman and Grm. “C’mon. Get ready. I don’t want to hang around ... in case the Admiral has second thoughts about this.” He grinned, once more, mischievously before he turned. With a skip and hop more suited to a much younger person, Thian made his way to his room to suit himself in the gear specified by the Admiral.

  Any sign we’ve been noticed, Clancy? Thian asked when he felt the slight bump as the shuttle landed on Arcadia’s surface. Nice ’port. You’re improving.

  Thank you. Clancy’s tone was droll. Nary a flicker on the telltales!

  Thian turned. “Let’s have a reading on the air, Mocmurra,” he said, and the woman promptly held up the peculiar device she carried. A long, thin spiral tube contained a worm of intricate, flexible coils coated with a polyamide material that turned them brown: a compact and efficient gas chromatograph.

  Mocmurra grinned. “Air’s fresher than the Washington’s.”

  “Let’s move out, men,” Commander Semirame said, touching the shuttle’s hatch control as her squad instantly got to their feet. She nodded to Thian, allowing him to be first, but Grm slipped in ahead of him and jumped deftly to the ground, the tools on the belt it wore clanking together.

  “Soft,” it said as it flipped its feet through the greeny-brown ground cover that stretched beyond and over the collection facility. Tendrils from the vegetation had spilled over the wide entrance but were trimmed short of covering it.

  “Keep the place tidy, don’t they,” Semirame said, right at Thian’s elbow as he stepped onto the surface. She gestured for her squad to spread out and around the shuttle, checking on all sides.

  “All clear, sir,” her sergeant reported.

  “Now what, Thian?” she asked.

  “I don’t quite know,” he said, looking around at the plain that extended in all directions, at the cultivated land with an occasional access alley for the workers. He took deep breaths of the air, tasting it, feeling it on his skin. “Faint odor?”

  “There is.” Semirame took another deep breath. “Sort of ... crisp.”

  “Yes, exactly,” Thian said, having been unable to find the right descriptive word for the lingering smell in the air.

  It was extraordinary to be standing here, on a Hiver world, and he didn’t bother to hide the slight smile of wonderment and incredulity this moment provoked. He snapped mental fingers at Rojer’s jibe that he’d never be “risked” on a personal tour.

  Semirame pointed. “Look at it move!”

  Thian saw the ’Dini, cavorting over the ground cover, headed right for the collection facility entrance, down the slope.

  Semirame whistled for her squad leader’s attention, but the sergeant had already allocated two men to follow the ’Dini.

  Any activity, Clancy?

  Not so much as a pip out of place. Admiral’s in here, on your couch, eyes glued to the screen. His expression—well, I’d call it avid, I think. Certainly nothing’s going to surprise him. What’s it like?

  Like any other M-type planet we’ve been on. Air has a nice crispness to it. We’ve taken GC readings and Weiman’s taking samples of the ground cover. Grm’s on its way down the embankment to the entrance and we’re following. Keep track of me.

  Just don’t expect me to move all of you out of danger if you run into it. Clancy’s tone was slightly sour.

  You can come on the next excursion, Clancy.

  Do I have a choice?

  Thian only laughed as he started down the steep slope that led into the subsurface collection center. He was
elated in a way he had never before experienced, not even when he and Kiely-Austin had penetrated the nova-seared Great Sphere and found the egg repositories intact. Even the familiar sting-pzzt that was now noticeable couldn’t dampen his mood. Anyway, the body armor somewhat deadened the sensation. He hoped that it would continue to do so when they were in closer proximity to the Hivers.

  Semirame had sent men trotting on ahead of the adventurous Grm, whose short legs could not match the jog trot of the marines. She gave a brisk nod of her head and then tilted it to mentally inform Thian that her advance scouts had seen nothing inside to alarm them. Thian stepped onto the approach ramp, excitement rising inside him. With his special senses, he couldn’t hear, see or feel anything. No, that wasn’t quite right. There was something ... a presence ... not something truly sentient, but something alive. Some things, he corrected himself.

  The ground beneath his feet had been trampled down for so long that it was now below its original level by several centimeters. In fact, if he looked closely he could see the slight ruts worn by workers that had tramped up and down it for centuries. In the depths beyond the overhang, he could see light—Semirame’s scouts checking it out.

  “Scouts say it’s all clear. Stinks a lot, like rotted vegetation,” she said with a snort.

  She raised her arm to call the rest of her team forward. Sam Weiman had knelt down to scoop up more soil samples, grunting as he forced his tool to loosen the closely packed dirt. Semirame pulled down the dark-vision visor from her helmet and Thian followed her example as they moved into the facility.

  The prevalent smell was indeed of slightly rotting vegetation. The odor deepened as they penetrated farther in. The flooring was clean and their boots scraped on a different surface. Thian leaned down to touch it.

  “Some sort of plascrete,” he said.

  Another of Semirame’s noncommittal grunts.

  “Lots of low tunnels now, sir, leading deeper in and down to other levels,” said the tinny voice issuing from Semirame’s wrist com. She looked at Thian for orders.

  “Can you navigate them?” he asked into his own wrist unit.

  “Can do,” was the answer after a slight pause.

  “Hands-and-knees job?” Thian asked.

  “Can do,” was repeated.

  “Found where the stuff must get dumped, sir,” another voice reported. “Straight ahead of you. ’Bout ten meters.”

  Semirame and Thian rapidly covered the distance, their quick steps echoing in the underground space since stealth did not seem to be required.

  The smell was heavier as they reached the dumping point. Peering down the slide that was at a forty-five degree angle, they could see a parallel chute and conveyor belt. Despite the smell, their handlights showed no refuse at all, the plascrete clean.

  “Down and down they go,” Semirame remarked at her driest. “Hemmer, Vale, Singh, take a look below.” To Thian she added, Mark ’em as they pass you, Thian, so’s you know ’em to bring ’em back up, like you did the crews in the Phobos Sphere.

  He could see her wide grin, her teeth showing brightly in his visor. He nodded, getting a touch of each of them as the troopers imperturbably slid down the ramp and started examining the direction of the belt.

  “Found a whole bay or holding level full of... workers? Sir? Sir?” another trooper reported. “Smells bad but no garbage.”

  “Got enough light to send me back a scan, Wixell?”

  “Do my best. Place’s as dark as...” Wixell paused, cleared her throat and went on. “Dark, sir.”

  Thian watched his wrist unit and the scan came up, lumps of darkness then illuminated by a slowly moving beam of light.

  “The workers,” Thian said when he saw the tool extension crossed lifelessly on the front of the creature. “Standing by for orders from the queen?”

  “Can’t move any farther in, sir,” Wixell went on. “Place is stuffed with them, and the ceiling’s just high enough for them to lie down, or whatever it is they’re doing. More vegetable stink too.”

  “Any other exit from the...” Semirame paused, grimacing as she tried to find an appropriate word.

  “Stable?” Thian suggested.

  “Stables are for living things. That’s a garage,” she said, sounding disgusted.

  “No sir, blank walls.”

  “C’mon back then, Wixell.”

  “Sir?” Another scout reported in. “Found a bigger tunnel, leads down and straight ahead for several hundred meters.” Her voice had an edge of excitement. “Big enough for a queen, I think, sir. I’m getting static from the GC, so I’ll take readings.”

  “Do that, Mocmurra.” Thian could see the commander grinning.

  “Go on, Thian. I’ll call them.” She jerked her thumb toward the slide and then her finger in the direction Thian should go. “Captain Lyon’s on his way, Mocmurra. Wait for him, will ya? Bessy, Trainor, scout ahead for the captain.”

  Thian trotted across to the light held by the figure at the opening to the tunnel’s slit. It wasn’t very wide, but then the queens weren’t either; they were tall.

  “This way, sir,” Mocmurra said; the sturdy marine was grinning over her discovery. “Only one the size for Humans.”

  “Anyone know where Grm is?” Thian asked, realizing he hadn’t caught sight of the ’Dini since it had entered.

  “It was with me, sir. It’s up ahead.”

  “Let’s move it, then,” Thian said. It wouldn’t do for a ’Dini specialist to get hurt or captured by the Hivers. He picked up his feet and ran down the straight tunnel, blessing the visibility of the visor.

  It’s okay, Thian, came Clancy’s reassuring thought.

  Can you track Grm?

  It’s got a locator on its tool belt.

  Thian kept running, trying to keep the nail-studded bootheels from hitting the tunnel floor too loudly, just in case the queen could feel vibrations. He had nearly run Grm down when the ’Dini appeared in front of him, at the T-junction. Actually, it was more than a T, for additional tunnels, all queen height, opened up like a delta. Nine more.

  THIS WAY, Grm said, pointing to the first one on the left-hand side, its poll eye gleaming with excitement and the fur at an almost perpendicular angle to its body. When Thian would have moved forward, it held up one flipper, bringing it around to its mouth to indicate a necessity for stealth. Then Semirame yanked at Thian’s sleeve and slipped in front of him. Well, she was right, of course, to guard him. They cautiously moved forward, placing their feet noiselessly.

  An old snatch of a song—with catlike tread, upon our way we steal—sprang to his mind.

  No sound at all, we never speak a word, Alison Ann’s voice continued.

  Tracking me again? Thian said, amused that Gravy was in touch.

  A fly’s footfall would be distinctly heard, was Semirame’s addition, surprising a gasp out of Thian. Just happened to remember it, she added with a touch of bashful humor in her voice. Thian grinned. The commander’s mental tone was quite different from her vocal one, and far more revealing of her personality than her spoken words.

  Another smell impinged on their senses.

  Queen stink? Semirame asked Thian.

  Heavy sting-pzzt, that’s for sure. Thian tried to ignore the concentration of that phenomenon, though the body armor did help. Tell Mocmurra to get more readings. He heard her give the order. My sister Zara’s the only one of us who’s been close to a queen. Sam didn’t mention smell as a factor in his confrontation with her. And nothing recorded about the ambience in her ... quarters... suggests a poisonous emanation. Of course, we had space suits when we were on the Great Sphere, but the vacuum of space would have erased any residual odors.

  Wasn’t much reek on the refugee sphere by the time it got to Phobos Base, but this smells a bit like it. Ooops!

  Semirame had caught up to Grm and her halt was so abrupt that Thian walked into her. She pointed to her right and Thian saw the opening and what was beyond it, as plain in his visor as
if they’d been in full light—a queen, standing, with her groomers, her upper limbs extended for the attentions of her minions.

  She isn’t that big, was Thian’s first thought.

  She isn’t? Where are you? Clancy demanded brusquely. That’s the Admiral’s question, not mine.

  We seem to be at the entrance to a queen’s quarters. I don’t think she’s as big as the one at Heinlein Station.

  Estimate!

  A meter thirty centimeters, give or take a centimeter, Thian said, looking at Semirame, who nodded though she kept her visor focused on the queen.

  Grm tugged at Thian’s arm and Thian leaned down to let Grm speak softly in his ear.

  SHE IS NOT BIG. SHE IS OLD.

  Thian passed on that information, though how Grm could tell the creature’s age was beyond him.

  I’ll go in, he told Semirame, at the same time he announced that intention to Clancy.

  NO!!! came at him from two directions and he shook his head against the blast.

  Semirame looked at him, her eyes hidden by the visor, but there was no mistaking the negative posture of her body or her raised hand, ready to clout him if he moved.

  All right then. You go first, Rame, he said, trying to sound pleasant when he wanted to lift her up and shake her for being so damned cautious about his Talented self, when he could react faster in his own defense than anyone else could because he’d instantly sense injurious intent.

  Semirame must have caught some of that, because she lowered her hand and shrugged. Carefully she entered the queen’s quarters, Thian with equal stealth right behind her, so they were almost moving in tandem.

  This is much bigger than I expected, Thian said, and Semirame gave a barely perceptible nod of agreement.

  Palatial, considering where she stashes the guys that do all the work.

  Describe! Clancy demanded. Admiral talking, he added a second later in an explanatory fashion.