The Tower and the Hive

by MCCAFFREY, ANNE

  Thian could just see the scene, with Ashiant stiff with apprehension.

  The main room is say thirty meters by thirty meters and half that to the ceiling. It’s crammed with bodies, her attendants, and there’s a ledge against one wall, and against the wall perpendicular to it, another sort of seat—it may be where she extrudes her eggs ...

  Yeah, it does look like a birthing stool with the big hole in the back and a sort of tube opening in the wall, Semirame said, then added in a tone of disgust, I don’t know why I’m ’pathing. We could be roaring and this lot wouldn’t hear us. We’re right in front of them—they’ve got to know there are three individuals staring at them. And something just scurried over my feet... didn’t even notice it was canted to one side doing so. Hey, wait a minute, Grm.

  It doesn’t hear you, Rame, Thian said, quickly following the ’Dini as it moved farther into the room. Grm did have the good sense to move slowly, but the ’Dini was determined to see all it could of the habitat of its lifelong enemy. He caught up with Grm and planted one hand firmly on its shoulder, tightening his grip when the ’Dini tried to evade. He squeezed his fingers to make certain Grm knew it wasn’t supposed to go on unattended.

  Look at the walls, Thian, Semirame said urgently, and Thian glanced upward, having been far more aware of the queen and her bustling attendants. He really hadn’t noticed more than the size of the room. Now he saw that on three walls, just above the height of his head, there were glowing screens or monitors.

  Their communications boards?

  Why not? The queen’s reading the one in front of her. Look at her head. She’s tracking something, Semirame said. But I don’t see as much change in the panels on the side walls.

  Thian watched long enough to be aware of changes, rippling top to bottom of the panel, as if scrolling.

  CAN YOU SEND SAMPLE?

  Only if you and the Admiral stop roaring at me suddenly. I damned near jumped onto something, Thian said testily. Rame, tape a recording of the side panels. I can focus on the one she’s watching from where I am now. He lifted his wrist com, activating the record touch button, and grabbing Grm’s arm before it took advantage of his need of both hands and got loose. Grm did pull its feet out of the way of several rapidly moving attendants who passed where it had been standing and went out through a hole in the wall. Get Mocmurra in here too, to record the smells.

  I think Sam would call them pheromones, Clancy said.

  Then something rammed into Thian’s heel and he lifted his foot as another variety of attendant charged out, only momentarily thwarted by his being in its way.

  Place is crawling with bugs and beetles, Thian said, dipping his hand so the watchers could see the rammer skittering into the heap that surrounded the queen. With two of her nether limbs, she was tilted slightly backward, her egg-bulb just clearing the floor. Thian could see that it was being coated—or cleaned, he wasn’t sure which—by those surrounding that section of her.

  Admiral and Lieutenant Commander Britt, the science officer, say that she is not, I repeat not, as large as the Heinlein queen. Commander, please focus for one minute on the left-hand panel. Then for a minute on the right-hand one. We seem to get some sort of variation, but very erratic. Thian, go back to the wall she’s watching. This may be a significant breakthrough.

  Being sure he wasn’t going to walk on anything scuttling about, Thian backed up so that his recorder would catch the full screen of the front wall the queen was watching. She opened her mouth. Thian and Rame both froze. A creature, slightly larger than most of her attendants, held up a lump. She lowered her head slightly, opening a maw, and the lump was inserted. She seemed to inhale the material because it certainly didn’t go down her throat as a lump.

  Did you see that? A male? Feeding her?

  Before Semirame could answer, Thian was distracted when something connected hard against his shin. He danced off that foot, then replaced it to lift the other and avoid what was scurrying about.

  Keep the camera still, Clancy said.

  I will if they’ll stop kicking me in the shins. There! That better?

  Frankly, I couldn’t tell, Clancy said, but the experts sure are excited.

  Why? Semirame asked in her droll fashion. We’d need a Hiver to decipher it ... maybe even read it, and none of ’em are talking to us.

  If it keeps the experts happy, Clancy said, his mental tone amused, let ’em try it.

  Wonder what would happen if we could replicate this for the Heinlein queen? Thian said mischievously. He heard Clancy’s mental chortle and Semirame’s snort.

  Ah, that would be sheer mental cruelty, Thian, Semirame said, after ’porting her into a functional sphere so she could start it up for us and then whisking her back to prison.

  Thian grinned in the green darkness around him at the memory of that incident. Well, the ploy had worked and the queen had shown them the sequence of start-up controls that the Human engineers had been unable to fathom. They’d ’ported the queen without the knowledge of the Phobos Base commander, but the tactic had worked.

  That wouldn’t work this time, Rame. She won’t talk to us, and how what they might be saying to each other would help us, I don’t know.

  You’re right, Semirame said wistfully.

  Admiral asks could you set up a surveillance unit in her quarters? Clancy asked.

  Sure. But I’ll need a night-vision unit and some heavyduty stickum, Semirame said. She added quickly, And it has to be an odor-free adhesive!

  Can do, Clancy said. Just hang in there a few minutes, if you can.

  We can, Semirame blithely assured him.

  On their way, Clancy said.

  To get it really stuck proper in position, I’m going to have to stand on your shoulders, I think, Thian. You’re good for something now and then, you know. Semirame gave him a picture of her, patting his head. Only she was on stilts and he was much, much shorter.

  Suddenly Thian heard a mechanical whirring and air was blowing against him.

  That’s odd, Semirame said.

  Thian felt Grm tug at his sleeve and he leaned down:

  THEY SMELL US, the ’Dini murmured in his ear.

  Grm seems to think we smell, Thian said.

  I don’t doubt that in the least, Semirame said. They gotta have clean air.

  If they smell us, why don’t they see us? Thian asked.

  I dunno, and I’m as happy they can’t. Hurry up with that spy-eye, will ya? If they’re cleansing the air, they might look for ... Thanks. A package landed against Rame’s chest and she clutched it firmly to her.

  Good catch, Clancy said.

  Now Semirame pushed Thian to the back wall, gestured for him to make his hands into a footrest. He shook his head, grinning, spread his legs slightly and ’ported her to his shoulders. Wincing, he also lightened her not insubstantial weight before her heavy boots could dig welts into his shoulders. Instinctively, he put his hands up on her muscular calves to steady her. He could feel her smear on the adhesive with quick movements, then the pressure as she stuck the surveillance unit into the goo.

  Can you see, Clancy? She asked.

  Ah ... yes, coming through... as clear as it’ll get, I guess.

  Now’s the time to know, Clancy, she said, in her best have-you-done-as-I-told-you commander manner.

  We’ll fiddle with resolution up here. Admiral says get out of there before you do stink up the place enough for them to start looking for you.

  Right.

  Thian ’ported her back to the floor, and she gave a curt flick of her fingers to indicate they should leave. Grm tried to resist Thian pulling it along, but with the air circulation blowing across his face, Thian really did think it was high time to leave.

  We got lots of pictures, Thian. Landing party’s recording all over the facility. Clancy sent each of the teams night-vision remotes, Semirame said, and the group at the entrance now stepped back to allow them to leave the queen’s quarters. As soon as she was a ways down the pa
ssageway, Semirame gave low-voiced orders to reassemble in the main chamber.

  There was a substantial breeze flowing across the chamber when they got there.

  “All units here?” she asked, scanning the figures in front of her.

  “All present and accounted for,” said the squad sergeant. “Let’s get outta here before they try to find who’s making their house smell,” Semirame said, and raising her arm in forward sweep, trotted up out of the collection point. Pushing up her visor, she ran backward as she checked again that all who had entered were coming out. Then she turned forward again and kept up the trot the short distance to the shuttle. She stood by the door, with the sergeant, checking once more. In minutes, everyone was seated, ready for the ’port back to the Washington.

  We’re ready, Thian told Clancy.

  Steady as you go, Clancy answered.

  “Sir.” Having got the commander’s attention, Wixell pointed through the window.

  They just had time to see low-slung creatures flowing up out of the collection facility, waving antennae about.

  “Trying to find out where the smell comes from,” Semirame said, chuckling. “Have to remember to neutralize us stinking types the next time we do a reconnaissance.”

  Thian chuckled. “I wasn’t sweating. Were you?”

  “Naw,” Semirame replied. “Might be our boots.” She looked down at her dirt-stained footwear. “Or our uniforms. Always did say the dye’s got a vicious pong to it.”

  All set?

  All set.

  A moment later Thian nodded approval as the shuttle landed so smoothly only he and Semirame were aware that they had been transported the thirty-six thousand kilometers to the geosynchronous orbit above the surface of the planet—though there was a startled look on Wixell’s face, as she’d been facing one of the two portholes.

  Should we run a GC on us to see if we do stink enough to register with those ultrasensitive queens? Semirame asked, cocking her head at Thian. And what we smell like?

  Wouldn’t that upset our ultrasensitive and efficient troops?

  Whatever she might have replied was lost in the next second. Someone pounded on the door, to indicate that they should undo the hatch. Instantly the entire squad had weapons at the ready, aimed at the hatch.

  Nothing wrong with their reflexes. “Re-lax, troops. We’re back.”

  A gusty sigh of relief came from all sides, and with it a whiff of garlic.

  “Garlic!” Thian said to Semirame.

  “Yeah.” Just noticed. Wonder if that’s relevant, but we’ll use a stink ’graph just to be on the safe side.

  Garlic used to be a specific against witches, ghosties, ghoulies and things that go bump in the night, Clancy said.

  Whose side are you on? Thian asked while Semirame muttered orders through her wrist com. Then she smiled up at him, giving her head one sharp nod to show that the pong test would be accomplished.

  “Sir,” said the boat deck watch officer, “Admiral’s compliments, and can you report to him immediately.”

  I’ll just hold ’em up a moment and then they can file past Exit Five and get odorized, Semirame told Thian.

  Should make an interesting appendix to the mission report.

  He waved his hand at her as he exited the ship and strode to the nearest lift, busy formulating his report to the Admiral. He’s going to love the garlic.

  four

  Laria and Kincaid got the announcement of the release of Talavera to the Mrdini from Earth Prime, who was nearly as jubilant as all of Clarf would shortly be.

  That’s marvelous, Granddad. You don’t know how happy that’ll make everyone here.

  I’ve a very good idea, Laria, but doubtless you’ll fill us in. Please inform Plrgtgl immediately as a courtesy and—here’s the written notification—in Basic as well as Mrdini.

  Both Tower Talents heard the message tube rattle into the basket.

  Good shot, Earth Prime.

  The hand hath not missed in decades.

  How soon can they set off? Laria asked, grinning in triumph at Kincaid, who was smiling too.

  How soon can colony ships be loaded? Jeff Raven responded.

  Who’s catching?

  Rojer, Flavia and the Columbia team. No problem on the receiving end.

  No, there won’t be. May I leave the Tower to take the message to Plrgtgl?

  You are Tower Prime, Laria Raven-Lyon, you can leave the Tower anytime you wish. I’m sure there’s nothing coming in that Kincaid can’t handle by himself. Right?

  Right, was Kincaid’s instant reassurance. He jerked his head at Laria to urge her to leave.

  The note of the generators slid deeper without Laria’s using them. She remembered to use the glove to pick up a message tube still freezing from its ’portation through the vacuum of space, and ran down the steps.

  “We got it, we got it!”

  “Got what?” Lionasha asked.

  “HEY, what’s wrong with the Tower? Generators are off...” Vanteer called from his level.

  “IT’S OFFICIAL,” Laria yelled back. “The ’Dinis get Talavera!”

  Vanteer was up the short flight in one leap. “They do?”

  She waved the cylinder. “I’m off to make a personal delivery of the go-ahead,” she said, leaving the cool of the station and, stopping dead in her tracks, gasping at the hot air outside. But she persevered on to her ground vehicle. YOU’VE GOT THE PLANET! she shouted in ’Dini to Fig, Sil, Dig and Nim, who were on yard duty.

  ’Dinis did exultant cartwheels all across the plascrete. She laughed at such antics as she got into the ground car. Someone had already turned on the air-conditioning full blast—Kincaid, no doubt—getting rid of the trapped heat inside. She took off fast enough to raise a dirt cloud and pebbles that pattered against the undercarriage. She turned out of the Tower compound, heading for the Clarf Administration Building. She drove at daring speed through the afternoon traffic and into the compound where Plrgtgl had its office. Braking in front of the main entrance, she didn’t wait for the air cushion to settle before she flung herself out of the car, through the roasting air, and was in the relatively cool building in four long strides.

  “What’s the rush, Prime?” one of Plrgtgl’s Human assistants asked, surprised at her appearance.

  “You’ll hear, you’ll hear,” Laria said, brandishing the message tube. “Is Plus here? Oh, do tell me it is.”

  “Far’s I know,” was the reply. “Naciana’s at her desk.”

  As Plrgtgl was responsible for managing all the Humans currently employed on Clarf, it employed Human staff assistants too. So Laria courteously knocked on the door before sliding it back.

  Naciana looked up. “Laria?”

  “Is Plus in?”

  “Yes,” Naciana said, waving her to the inner door, but half rising from her seat as she sensed Laria’s excitement, and also saw a tube that must carry important documents if Clarf Prime was hand-carrying it.

  Plrgtgl looked up at her entry, rose to its full height.

  EARTH PRIME HAS REQUIRED ME TO GIVE THIS DIRECTLY TO YOU, HONORABLE PLRGTGL, she said in ’Dini, and with a flourish, handed it the tube.

  Plus lowered its poll to eye her for a long moment.

  IT IS THE NEWS WE WISH FOR, IS IT NOT? Plus said, holding the tube tightly to its chest for a moment. Then, with a flick of its flippers, it opened the container and disks fell onto the desk along with a sheaf of hard copy. NACIANA?

  YES SIR? Naciana had followed Laria to the threshold.

  PUT THIS ON MY SCREEN, Plus said, tossing Naciana one of the disks, which her eager fingers fumbled into the appropriate slot on its desk while Plus was unrolling the hard copy. AHHHHHHHHHH. Plus’s ecstatic warble echoed out of the office and through the door Laria had left open, to startle Humans and ’Dinis alike in the halls. WE HAVE IT! WE HAVE IT! WE HAVE IT!

  Laria, knowing what the ’Dini meant, leaned back against the desk to avoid a collision as it charged past her, waving what loo
ked like a Mercator projection of Talavera. Plus danced up the hall, knocking bodies aside in its exultation. Then, almost ricocheting off across the hall at the end of the main corridor, it returned, giving everyone in its path a glimpse at the map, babbling in a combination of Basic and ’Dini that made no sense to anyone—except Laria, who knew enough to understand its garbled comments.

  The moment Plus reentered its office, it altered completely, becoming dignified and organized. After her first surprise at Plus’s reaction, Naciana, well accustomed to her superior’s volatility, had put the full report up on the screen.

  COPIES, MAKE COPIES, LOTS OF COPIES. Plus said, flipping its free arm at her to show great urgency. Once behind the desk, it smoothed the Mercator projection out, holding the map down with objects on its desk, and then unrolled the rest of the hard copy. CALL THEM ALL. WE MEET AS SOON AS

  THEY GET HERE. OH, THIS IS MARVELOUS. OUR WORLDS WILL ALL REJOICE, Plus said to Laria. Then it scrutinized the documentation with a poll eye that was shining with its inner joy.

  Communications units buzzed from Naciana’s desk. Plus waved her to answer while it picked up its own unit and began what Laria was certain would be a string of calls to Clarf’s administrative personages.

  “Good luck,” she said to Naciana, who was listening to a caller whose audible tone was as excited as Plus’s.

  Naciana waved her free hand and gave Laria a thumbs-up sign, her eyes wide with excitement as she tried to get a word in edgewise to the caller. In the hallway, Laria was stopped time and again by Humans and ’Dinis for an explanation.

  “The High Council has awarded ’Dinis the planet Talavera,” she said again and again and again as she plowed her way to the entrance.

  There she was almost knocked down by excited ’Dinis, large and small, who were trying to get into the building she was trying to exit. She ’ported herself out of the way and got into the car, sweat running in rivulets down her face and body. When she started the vehicle, she realized that there were so many other cars parked every which way that she had no clear exit left, even on air cushion.