The Hive Ch. 02

"Lie down, and relax."

Rich sat. He didn't feel like lying down.

"Go on, Richard. Lie down." Was she really there, watching him, or was this a recording? He lay down. The room began to feel warm.

"That's right. Breathe. Slowly, in, out..."

He lay back. For minutes, her voice guided and slowed his breathing. Then she became quiet for a while, while he sank further into relaxation.

"Welcome, D3. That is your name. D3. Say it: 'I am D3, and my mind is open'."

"I am D3, and my mind is open".

"You are now subject to the laws of the hive. As a Drone you have privileges, but we are all subject to the laws. Even Your Queen is subject to the laws."

Richard had stripped to his underwear. He lay back and spread his limbs, feeling the soft thick carpet on the back of his legs and arms. He let out a long contented sigh. And then, from within him, her voice recited the laws.

The first law: No bumbling. A bumblebee flies alone, and can never join a hive. Honeybees fly together, and can never leave a hive. You're a honeybee. You must remain in the Hive, always.

The second law: Everything you do must be for the good of the Queen, and for the good of the Hive. Because The Queen is the hive.

The third law: No violence, no anger, and no sex. No harsh words, no masturbation. If you are tempted, or you feel a strong urge, you must work instead. The energy that drives you to feel sexual or angry thoughts must be channelled into work. And praying to Your Queen will help. Come here, into a prayer cell, and pray to me, and I will channel your energy back into the Hive.

The fourth Law: Be respectful to all those who serve you, and all those who you serve. As a Drone, you are served by the Workers, while you in turn serve the Queen directly. But remember, noblesse oblige: You have duties of respect to those that serve you.

The fifth law: No personal possessions, no greed. All that you once had, you must cast away, or donate to The Hive.

The laws continued, down from the very general commandments, going into further and further detail as they progressed, down to minutiae.

Rich felt them flow into his mind like a blood transfusion, from the broadest arteries down to the tiniest capillaries as they ramified, feeding and nourishing every cell of his being.

Address those of higher rank as "Sir" or "Mistress".

Address those of the same rank by their number, or as "brother" or "sister".

The intentional killing of animals is not permitted, with the exception of parasites.

Drink no more than one cup of wine with your meal, except on the night of the solstice.

Play music or sing only in the party areas or far fields, and only at party or work times.

A library book can only be borrowed if it has a red label.

If bread becomes stale, return it to the baker, do not throw it away.

After an eternity, The Queen ceased her recitation.

"Now, D3, rest, sleep. Let the laws sink deep, like water into dry earth."

He slept, instantly.

He was awakened by 104. "Good sleep? Come sir, it's time now to get your number on your head. Welcome, welcome!"

Holy Mother of God

Only trusted Workers like Joanne, who'd proven her absolute loyalty to her Queen, were allowed to leave the physical confines of the Hive to work in the gift shop in the nearby town of Taunton. It didn't have a lot of customers. It sold mainly Hive-grown produce.

Joanne looked up from her book at the sound of the little bell tinkling as the door of the shop opened. It was one of the visitors to the area, Sister Catherine. She'd been in three times before, in the last week.

Joanne's pink cheeks flushed with pleasure, tinged with guilty desire. "She must know. It must be so obvious."

"Hello again, for the fourth time! I just loved that honey! And the bread was marvellous."

"I'm so glad. I- how are you enjoying your stay?"

"Oh, it's lovely here. Just what I need." Sister Catherine looked pensive for a moment, and then brightened.

Joanne involuntarily fingered her long flaxen fringe, which covered her forehead completely, hiding her Hive number.

"What can I get for you today, Catherine?" She said I could call her Catherine.

"Well, today, I wanted... well I wanted..."

Joanne's heart beat faster. "What?"

"I wanted to talk, Joanne." She burst out laughing. "To confess something, actually!"

"What did you want to confess?"

"Look. I know you can't leave the shop, and have to go back as soon as you're finished. I wish we could just, you know, just meet for a cup of tea or something. I wanted to ask your advice. I don't know why, but I feel that you won't, you won't judge me."

Joanne saw, there in Catherine's eyes, a familiar sadness. And now Joanne suddenly understood why she was so taken with this beautiful woman.

"Just a moment. There's a kettle. And the shop is quiet today."

Once the tea was brewed, Joanne handed Catherine a clay mug.

"Mmm, delicious!"

Joanne sipped her tea, and waited for Catherine to pluck up the courage to tell her what had been bothering her.

Catherine sighed and began, hesitantly, at first, but more confidently, as Joanne, a good listener, encouraged her with sympathetic nods:

"I'm leaving. I'm not cut out for this." She tugged at her habit. "I joined, because after... a bad relationship, a very bad one... I wanted to take a vow of chastity, to lead a simple life, in the service of Christ.

"But although I love Him with all my heart, I love Him though he were my child, but not my Saviour. I feel His pain, and know how much He suffered on the cross, and yet, and yet... it's a mother's tears I weep. You see, I - I lost my own son, my baby. I - He..." She broke down.

Joanne began to weep too, and went to hold her.

Through sobs, Catherine continued, "I had an abortion. I was fifteen. I was, it was a family member. I don't want to say. The worst. The worst you can imagine."

Joanne held Catherine and rocked her. And she decided, one way or another, she would bring her to the Hive, where she would be healed.

As Catherine left the shop and passed down the little lanes, she sighed deeply, shaking off her emotion. How far was she prepared to lie in order to get to the truth? Clearly a long way. She reached the bed and breakfast where she was staying. Once inside, she tore off her cowl to reveal her long curly golden hair. She reached for a pack of cigarettes and lit one. Then she opened up her laptop and continued working on her exposé of The Hive.

Dope will Get You Through Times of No Money

Rich leaned back in his chair and looked up the ceiling in frustration. "Hey! It's happened again! HEY! Brother five!"

"Whattup, Rich?" D5, whose real name was Joe, never bothered with hive numbers. He poked his shaggy head round the door.

"C'mere, look. It's just fucked up. See?" Joe waddled over. He wore his usual red 4XL red Hive tee shirt, with the words "BUZZ ME" written on it. He'd told Rich he'd got it as a special order, because of the size. The crotch of his jeans sagged almost to the knee. He was barefoot.

"Okay, dude, the keyboard is so clogged up with your dick cheese I'm gonna haveta take it apart."

Rich raised his hands in the air. "Be my guest."

Joe was the nearest thing Rich had found to a friend in the year he'd been here. But he really didn't know very much about him. There seemed to be an unwritten law in Hive not to talk about your past life.

As Joe worked on Rich's laptop with a screwdriver, he spoke to him. "You know, it's not cool that you get so stressed. It's not Hive, man. We came here to get away from that shit."

Rich exhaled. "Yeah, yeah. You're right. It's this fucking job. I'm dealing with the outside all the time, with banks, lawyers, I'm half in half out the whole time."

"You and me both, man."

"You? When do you have to deal with outside the Hive?"

Joe eyed him, deciding whether he could take him into his confidence, but said nothing.

He put down the screwdriver. "Hey. Wanna get high?"

"What? Is it fixed?"

"No, but it's a small job. Wanna get high though?"

"I don't think it's allowed."

"Sure it is. The Queen's cool. She knows the difference between the bad drugs and the good drugs. Coke, chemical stuff, alcohol is out. All the addictive shit. But weed is cool. I have a worker grow it for me, over by the river."

Rich hadn't smoked weed since he was a student. "Okay, let's get high. But you will fix my keyboard after? I mean you won't get too stoned?"

"Hey, look at me. What do ya think?"

Rich looked at him. He was a cross between Jerry Garcia and Hagrid. "We'll find out, I guess."

The weed felt strong, maybe because Rich hadn't smoked it in so long. The back of his neck felt numb, and the windows seemed to be made of honey. He laughed at the funny honey windows.

Joe sipped on the last of a roach, held the hot smoke in. "So, what are you in for?"

Rich laughed. "Murder. Isn't everybody?"

"Murder? I guess so. No, really, what got you in here? Drugs? Because you don't look the 'back to nature' type."

"Sex. I had a sex addiction."

"Me too."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. So I figured I was either going to end my days in San Quentin, or here."

Joe and Rich sat, idly, each lost in their own stoned thoughts. Joe decided to tell Rich more about himself, although Rich hadn't asked him.

"Yeah, man. Chicks... You don't feel it, man, because you're a guy and you're straight, but I have this magnetism."

Joe checked to see whether Rich thought this amusing, but Rich was staring vacantly at the corner of desk through red, heavy-lidded eyes.

"Mainly little chicks, who like a big guy, a guy who knows how to dominate them. Sometimes I don't know who was dominating who. There was this one girl, Lara. She was always pushing me to take it further. She liked it when I slapped her ass, real hard. You know, big red hand-shapes on her ass. Then she got so she started begging me to slap her face.

Rich stirred. "And did you?"

"That was just the start of it, man. It got real dark. I cut her titty with a razor blade once. I was doing coke off of it. Blood everywhere. I freaked, but she fucking loved it man.

"I kept her locked her up the basement of my place. Jesus H Christ if the neighbours knew... I'd take her dog food, and she had eat to eat it out of a dog dish on the floor, same as my dog did.

"I'd watch TV and strum my Strat, and she'd be on all fours, with my dick in her mouth. The whole fucking night. I'd wake up in the morning, and she'd still be down there with her head in my crotch, sleeping, , with my dick still in her mouth. A big mess of her drool and my joy-juice, all over the floor. She got more of a kick out of it than me.

"After a while, I got bored with her and threw her out. I drove her all the way to her parents place in Austin and just threw her out the car outside their house, and drove home.

"But even though I got rid of her, I musta somehow got this reputation, ya know? This aura, that chicks who were into that just latched on to.

"One time, three girls came over to my place, groupies from the band I was working for at the time. They got naked, lay down on the floor in a row like three sardines, and you know what they wanted?

Rich stirred. "Er, no. I don't think so..."

"They wanted me to piss on them. Piss in their mouths, piss all over them. Some kind of fucked up bet, or I don't know.

"I hope you'd had a few beers..."

"You bet. So I peed on them. Then one of them begged me to take a dump in her mouth. That was it. That was fucking IT, man.

"Too far?"

"I realised I was just outa control. I'm telling ya, I was pretty close to blowing my brains out. I knew a musician. A pretty big name, I don't want to tell you, you'll call me a namedropper. But he told me about Our Queen here. So I saw her. And brrrrp! Just like that, she fixed my head.

"But after that, you felt empty, right."

"Right. Yes indeed, you know what I'm talking about. Empty. So I checked in here. And liked it. In fact I love it here, man. "

"What did you think of The Queen? I mean when you saw her?"

"She was five fucking aces. I thought at first she was a dyke, because I felt nothing from her, you know, sexually. But now I know it's because she's just beyond it man. She's up there." Joe stretched an arm up.

"Yeah, she's up there, all right."

There was a lull, while The Queen floated in their stoned brains, up there.

"Wanna see how lucky you and me are to be here?"

Joe heaved himself out of his seat. "C'mon. Take a look."

Rich followed him into the next room. The control room, where only Joe was allowed. He had an array of four giant monitors on his desk.

Joe tapped rapidly on the keyboard. "Check this shit."

And then Rich saw them, through the webcams the Hive had installed in their squalid little apartments, all the honeybees, all the slaves, in their little cells, all round the world, buzzing, buzzing, making all that honey for The Hive.

Joe walked out of the room. "Hey, Joe, where are you going? How do I get rid of this on the screen? Man I feel sick. Joe? FIVE!"

"Gimme five minutes. I'm just fixing your keyboard. Keep looking if ya like. Those are the guys who pay for all this shit."