Hive, Species Intervention #6609, Book Four

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Hive, Species Intervention #6609, Book Four Page 15

by JK Accinni


  As she gazed out into the field that gradually rose up to the rear of the cavern, creating an artificially far horizon, she spotted Kenya lounging on a hillock, her pregnancy at its maturity, delivery just a few weeks off. Johno broke off to escort the babies to a safe spot near a row of strange fruit trees that appeared to have been planted within the last few years, young enough not to attract the deadly pollinators. Lugging her box to Kenya’s comfortable hillock, she collapsed next to her.

  “Hey there, chicky. Hope ya all got something sweet in there today, my cravings are just not going away.”

  Kenya was fast becoming a source of comedy for her. The poor girl was so goodhearted but her self-interest was transparent. She just could not accept the fact that the world was different now. She could enthrall Ginger Mae for hours with her big plans to find the right baby daddy for her and her baby as soon as they ‘got out of this smelly underground tunnel with the wanna-be angels’. Ginger Mae did not fail to notice how tolerant Abby, Netty, Wil and Scotty were around her. Her impending birth was the probable answer, giving her a pass on her deep-seated denial.

  Kenya no longer sported her filthy white short shorts. Like the rest of them, the clothes they’d been wearing upon arrival had quickly been reduced to rags. It was a pleasant surprise to find a smaller cavern beyond their sleeping quarters piled high with all kinds of clothes. Most, but not all, still had tags on them, as if they had been recently purchased from a clothing store. She knew that was probably a stretch as piles of racks that had formerly held clothes lay heaped, broken and twisted on one side of the room. When asked where the clothes had come from, Netty just smiled and said, “The Womb provides”.

  Kenya rummaged around in the box of foodstuffs until she found something to her liking. Out in the field, Ginger Mae could see the others were making for the hillock in anticipation of their lunch break. And of course, that included Echo and Baby with their doggie entourage.

  They quickly found that no matter what responsibility they assigned Scotty and Chloe, the two golden creatures insisted on accompanying them, which meant the large pack of dogs would follow too, and the infernal tiger, Caesar. Everyone agreed the growing field was the best place for the troupe. From time to time one of the other survivors would join them, just to relieve the monotony. Ginger Mae had to admit, as well as their bathing caves, the growing field was a beautiful place. If you could overlook the dangerous pollinators, that is. She had no wish to get any closer to the strange, venomous creatures.

  As Scotty and Kane approached, she could see they were lugging their large water tank. Many of the survivors kept their drinking cups tied to a loop on their clothes—you never knew where you might be at any given time in their vast network of connecting caverns and caves. Many contained water sources but they had learned weeks ago to keep barrels of water in strategic locations. The practice of dipping their hands into the water to take a drink came under protest early on. No one wanted the dirt from the animals’ keepers or feeders in the drinking water, hence the dangling cups. Luckily, the growing fields had their own water source from a brook that meandered strategically through the rows of trees and vegetables. Nicely convenient.

  “Hi, Ginger Mae, thanks for lunch.” Chloe sat down next to Kenya, reaching into the box for her lunch that she shared with her scamp, Teddy. He was an adorable dog but what an ego: He spent far too much time making sure everyone knew he was the big dog in town, not even backing down for King and Queenie, the royal pit bulls that remained her personal favorites.

  Ginger Mae noticed Chloe still had not shaken her fragile air. By now everyone in the Hive knew about her bizarre kidnapping by the famous politician, Omar Nasir, and how Scotty’s golden creature had killed her uncle who had carried out the actual kidnapping and had planned to shoot them all. She shrugged, knowing Chloe’s story was no more bizarre than her own. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen the golden creature kill anyone before.

  Life truly was stranger than fiction. She knew her story featuring the psychotic Armoni had gotten around. No one had bothered to ask what she had been doing with him to begin with. They must all just think she was part of his despicable plot to rob Abby and Jose and kill their creature. How much lower could her self-confidence get?

  She stood quickly as Echo and Baby approached, still uneasy in their presence.

  The creature that belonged to Netty and Wil gazed at her, its luminous eyes lingering on her face. She watched as the creature turned to the one called Echo, placing one fragile digit on her chest. Together, they turned to Ginger Mae as if to assess her. She felt a strangeness overcome her as her vision clouded with an aura felt deep in her mind. She trembled with confusion as she heard whispers, unable to make out words. The whispers stopped as the creatures gave her a slight bow and backed away with the rest of the dogs to join the crowd around the lunch box. What the hell was that?

  As Scotty and Kane reached into the box, they nodded their thanks, sweat dripping off their muscled arms. Scotty’s wings remained tamped down under his shirt but his tail was free and relaxed. Not everyone was used to the changes in the bodies of their benefactors, but Scotty behaved just like one of them. Just a kid who had found himself innocently caught up in something he hadn’t asked for. He clearly wanted to be normal like the rest of his friends. It was much easier getting accustomed to his changes compared to the others but it was a slow process.

  As a matter of fact, she only saw Abby and Jose at meals these days. They spent most of their time with Wil or at the library. She wondered when they would get to see what was so special about the library. Efforts to pry information out of Daisy got her nowhere. She bent down to retrieve her box. They had to make it last as long as possible. Nothing was wasted here.

  Lingering in the beauty of the growing fields, she heard the trilling laughter of little Kimir, who was being chased among the rows of tall, succulent vegetables by Billy, the trucker who had become a survivor due to the vulgarities of fate when he had volunteered to fill in for a buddy who had originally been vetted by Ginger Mae.

  Kimir still cried at night for his mother and father. They all tried to distract him during the day to keep his mind off his loss, and he appeared to bond well with the truckers. Perhaps it was because they felt like outsiders themselves and found an affinity with the young boy.

  She waved goodbye to Kenya who had commenced holding court with the boys. Ginger Mae observed the young girl’s skin and hair appeared more luminous and lush than ever, even as she stroked her burdensome belly, clearly not far off from delivery. She watched as Johno waved to Kenya from the hillock where the baby eles frolicked. Glancing back at Kenya, she observed the young girl wave back and toss Johno a provocative wink. The irrepressible Kenya just might find herself with a surfeit of suitors once that baby comes, thought Ginger Mae. She bowed her head and, waving to the kids, she backed out into the corridor, anxious to hurry back to the kitchen to continue her duties.

  As she traipsed the corridors, she thought about the golden creatures. Had they been trying to talk to her? She knew they had some way of communicating that only a chosen few could understand. Why would they be interested in her? Had she misread their behavior? It had been so subtle, maybe she had imagined it. Don’t be stupid, Ginger Mae. She dragged her box carefully around a corner. I didn’t imagine anything. They’re up to something and it might involve me.

  As she approached the kitchen, she found herself so preoccupied with Baby and Echo that she failed to notice a figure standing in an alcove past the kitchen opening. The blank face of the figure focused on her, unable to turn away. With teeth clenched so hard they made grinding sounds, the figure backed deeper into the alcove, remaining undetected as Ginger Mae disappeared into the kitchen.

  “Ginger Mae, you’re back. Can you take over for Netty?” Salina Diaz nodded her head toward Netty who dropped the huge iron spoon she was using to stir the pot bubbling at the fireplace.

  Netty hurried over to the cart
that was loaded with the food they had spent the morning cooking. Everyday Netty disappeared with the cart, not to be seen again until dinnertime when she returned to the kitchen with Wil . . . sometimes after dinner was finished. She often wore the air of distraction upon her return. They were all aware of the fact that when originally questioned by Salina, Netty had responded in an uncharacteristically abrupt fashion, refusing to answer the innocent question and mandating the subject never to arise again. Just another one of the strange mysteries of Netty and Wil, thought Ginger Mae as she contemplated Netty’s now familiar winged back disappearing through the kitchen opening, to evaporate into the Hive with her cart of food.

  Ginger Mae quickly stirred the stew pot Netty had been working on, its bubbles exploding tiny burps of spicy mystique into the air. As she stirred, she scanned the bygone room, marveling at how easily the harmony in Netty’s kitchen flowed. Even when the dogs were underfoot or Crystal’s pig rearranged the rugs with her snout, the room almost made her feel like she had a real home here.

  “Hello, guys.” Sassy Emma Diaz breezed in to kiss her mother on the cheek, grabbed a box, and filled it with food to take back to the keepers who were watching the rhinos and the rest of the elephant herd. Ginger Mae noticed how one of Johno’s young keepers watched her every move as she filled the box he would help her carry. The light in his eye meant one thing to Ginger Mae. Emma was well past the age at which most women in Africa would have had their first child. And this young man was no different than many of the men in Africa who thought a woman’s job was to be available for sex at all times, often whether they wanted it or not.

  She eyed Johno’s young keeper from the corner of her eyes, wondering if a problem may be in the making. Did any of the keepers from Africa have AIDS? What would they do if someone got really sick? They were damn lucky Billy’s asthma had subsided after he ran out of medication in his inhaler. Everyone assumed the air must contain less contaminants than the air above ground, certainly no pollen except from the growing fields. But if the pollinators couldn’t get out through the pressure lock at the entrance, it must also keep out the pollen.

  As Emma left with the keeper—what’s his name anyway . . . Elias?—Salina stood with her hands on her hips, her apron saggy and filthy from washing vegetables as she watched them disappear through the doorway. They could hear Emma’s girlish giggle carry back into the room in response to something said by the keeper. Emotions flickered across Salina’s face. Ginger Mae interpreted pride, love and fear. Yeah, Mama Diaz was no fool.

  Ginger felt a tap on her shoulder. Bending her neck, she confronted her closest ally, Dezi, standing behind her with his skinny ferret face plastered with supplication, his voice hesitant. “Hey babe, do you mind if I ask you a question? I kinda need a favor.”

  “Sure, Dezi . . . what’s up?”

  “Well . . .” Dezi bowed his head then glanced up. “You know how these stinky damn beasts drive me nuts, right?”

  Ginger Mae could not stop herself from smiling. “Yes, Dez, I think everyone knows.”

  “Well, I think I’m going to go postal and start slapping them around if I don’t get away from them for a while.”

  Unfortunately for Dezi, his lack of skills other than truck driving had put him at a distinct disadvantage when chores had been assigned. He had been faced with a choice of hard labor in the library or being the official animal census keeper of all animals. Dezi had chosen the latter, hoping he could just stand back and count, moving on from cavern to cavern until they were all accounted for. It had taken him all day. Many did not see the wisdom of the exercise but Wil and Netty had insisted on it. The warning from Wil regarding the wrath of the Womb in the event of just one creature being unaccounted for was enough to make them all tremble. If Dezi’s daily count came up short, they were all tasked with sending search parties out to comb the endless passageways and caverns until the missing creature was located. It had only taken a few false alarms to put Dezi on the bottom of the popularity list in the Hive. They had also made him very exacting at what he did.

  And, as luck would have it, Dezi found it impossible to just peek in a cavern and count. The cats and bears were very boisterous, hiding behind rocks, readying themselves to playfully pounce on unwary victims. Dezi became their favorite plaything, although they were careful never to seriously hurt him, no matter how he varied his schedule to fool them. His cuts and bruises healed rapidly but he knew they sensed his disdain and disgust.

  Dezi fared no better with the rest of the creatures. He was kicked, spat at, urinated upon and nipped. No one else elicited this response from the wildlife. Even the dogs stayed away from him. Oddly, from time to time, Baby would approach Dezi during dinner to stand quietly at his side. He would eventually feel the creature’s presence and nod hello, receiving an enigmatic golden touch on his skinny arm from Baby who would then re-join Echo and Barney at the fireplace with the other dogs and Tulip, the pig.

  Raised eyebrows from other diners would stare at Dezi then refocus on the abundance of tasty confections that were birthed in Netty’s kitchen. After all, it wasn’t like they hadn’t seen anything odd in the Hive before. Their whole lives were now the exact definition of odd.

  “How exactly do you want me to help you with your problem, Dez? You know I’m pretty much stuck in the kitchen all day.”

  Dezi took a deep breath, true desperation now bleeding into his eyes. “Well, doll, that’s the thing. I was hoping you might want to swap jobs for a while. The animals don’t bother you. Please, Ginger Mae?” His voice cracked with strain. “You would sure be doing me a solid.”

  Ginger Mae looked into his eyes, clearly feeling his desperation and the deeper layer of what she sensed made him an unfortunate. She stopped stirring the kettle, wiping her hands on her limp apron. “I don’t know how well you’ll do in the kitchen, Dez. We’ll have to get the okay from Salina and Netty.”

  Seeing the grateful anticipation of salvation in Dezi’s eyes, she took him into her arms and gave him a comforting hug. “Of course, I’ll be happy to help you out, hon.”

  Dezi held her harder, lifting her up and swinging her around, exclaiming loudly, “I love ya, babe. You’re my girl.”

  As Dezi set the laughing Ginger Mae back down on her feet, she caught sight of Peter standing on the other side of the room dipping water from the bucket into a cup. His mouth hung wide open. Pretending not to notice, he quickly bent down, turning his back to Ginger Mae, but not before she caught a glimmer of something unidentifiable in his eyes. Hatred? Anger? she wondered. Or hurt? Dismissing Peter’s hatred of her, she took Dezi over to Salina to discuss their new plans.

  *

  Netty and Wil trudged silently down and around the twisted corridors, dragging a wagon loaded with food. They made the trip daily and the food would last until their next trip tomorrow. Baby sat in the wagon, his kitten now almost fully grown and less willing to be dragged around by her golden furry mentor. Netty glanced back, deciding to leave the cat behind next time. She had too much weighing her down to have to worry about a squirming cat eager to escape Baby’s worshiping hands. If the cat took off and got lost, they would never hear the end of it from Baby.

  Netty smiled as she admired Baby in all his gloriousness, his wings as alive and functioning as her own. It was now perfectly clear the Oolahans were the ancestors of humans. Netty didn’t need a DNA test to tell her that, although she was quite capable of performing one in the Womb’s laboratory.

  She and Wil had learned to be accomplished in the biological arts of creating life. Looking at Baby, Netty’s heart lurched for her precious creature. Baby’s destiny would always remain unrealized. He should have been able to work alongside her and Wil in the Womb’s lab. Unfortunately, when the Womb had transferred their souls and memories into their new bodies, the only thing left to work with in Baby’s mind did not include the regeneration of his damaged areas from his landing on earth so long ago. And the damage wrought by Eli�
��s viciousness as he stomped on Baby’s head, splitting his skull to leave only brain splatter, had not helped either.

  “Helloooo? Neeeettttty? Where did your mind wonder off to? I have been trying to get your attention.”

  Wil smiled down at Netty as they continued their trek, the wagon now throwing off a harsh squeak that bounced around the echoing membrane-lined walls. Netty looked up at his dear, sweet face, trying to smile. She watched as Wil’s brow furrowed, worry the only expression on his handsome guileless face. Goodness, she thought, he still takes my breath away, even after a hundred and twenty years.

  “Love, I can see something is troubling you.”

  Wil steered them to a ledge, set the wagon down, and swept her up into his arms where she clung to him, trembling. As they stood, wrapped in each other’s arms, a frantic aura shot through their minds. They turned to see Baby standing in the wagon with skinny leather fingers reaching out spasmodically, his arms waving as the whispers cried forlornly.

  “Sister . . . Brother . . . me . . . me.” With love in her eyes, Netty leaned down to embrace Baby, lifting him into their arms where they huddled together.

  “Sister sad.” Baby traced the contours of Netty’s face with his tiny fingers.

  “No, Baby, I’m not sad.” Wil removed Baby from Netty’s arm, placing him back into the wagon.

  “Well, why the long face?” Wil asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know, I guess I am just worried about our future. We have so much to deal with. I never expected this to be our lives.” Her hand drifted down to stroke Baby’s fur as she spoke.

  Wil’s face clouded with anger. “I know . . . I should have shot that bastard you were married to when I had the chance.”

  “It is so strange. I know a century has passed but it will always be like it just happened yesterday. I will never forget what that . . .” Netty choked. “What that degenerate deviant Eli did to Baby. When I feel stressed about the challenges in front of us, my mind goes back to that moment.” Netty rubbed the side of her temple.

 

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