17 - What the Hell?

Diryish raised his head from his arms.  He’d been overseeing the new city designs and the new terraces being created out of the rock down as far as Trovi and had just put his head down for a moment, and had fallen asleep.

Of course the post-programming doze hit harder and harder as he got older. “It is terribly embarrassing being old,” he said to no one in particular.  One of the young zardukar, Elissen, working with the team trying to shore-up the oldest and the most failure-prone areas of Lainz, woke with a start herself.  “Oh, Radiance.  Sorry.  I... sorry.”

“It’s all right my dear.”  He stretched and the young woman who was the newest came and served mead to everyone waking.  Everyone but His Radiance who got mead and milk and propolis.  “It happens to everyone when we are doing something tricky.”

Diryish’s eyes fell on the model of the city and the new plans built on it in white wax.  As the city grew and changed, usually during the quietest, most silent times of the city, in the deepest dark of the night when few people saw the misty flights of bees... the sweat bees, the dust bees, the flower bees... the stone bees... when the city grew in shape and form and colour and the stone was laid down for human foot and human breath.

“There’s a problem there,” he said, quietly.  The whole room, that was waking to the buzzing hum of work well done, quieted.  Faces turned to him.

“See?” His ancient, withered finger drew along the edge of a new planned loggia... and new terraces to feed the loggia...

“Any weight on this at all will make this terrace collapse onto the one below... which was overbuilt in my grandfather’s time but should not have to bear this kind of emergency weight.”

The zardukar, woken and buzzing about the model of the city examined it from all sides.  “Father of the Hive... could we have more workers?”  The voice was faint and quiet, from the back.

Diryish pinched the bridge of his nose.  “If I can get them, yes.  There are zardukar in the city that are healing, that are... “ he drew a deep breath.  “My Illustrious Father was, perhaps, incorrect?”

The Hive stilled even further if that were possible.  “Radiance... we could use every hive speaker on the sphere of the planet to make things easier.”

“That is unlikely.  The other owner need not realize that we have survived his attempt to eradicate us.”

“Radiance.”  It was Mother Thriti who spoke.  “Perhaps we need every hive speaker, male or female?”

The silence after that question was longer and more profound.   

Diryish sighed again, at last.  “Yes.” There was a massive intake of air as the hive-workers realized. 

“We need to remove the dismal law.  The one that  denies same sex workers.”

Mother Thriti thumped her cane upon the padded step where her feet rested.  “Excellent, Diryish.  The old law was an ass.”

“Cease.  I have admitted a fault in the old Radiance.  I shall announce from the Highest Balcony tomorrow... that non-procreative sexuality is no longer anathema.”

There was another long pause before tentative applause broke out.   

“Now.”  He said, cutting them off.  “Let us fix this.  The supports need to be much more than those shown.  They also need to draw on the rock from the cliff face, not from the rock of the terrace below.”

 “Father of Bees... if that happened, wouldn’t the whole terrace come down?”  Again it was a lesser worker and Thriti did nothing to reprimand her.

“Yes.  We could lose a whole mid-season crop if this terrace failed.”

“Who is doing this, Radiance?”

Diryish rose to his feet, paced around the wax model of the city, leaned close to peer at the finer details, retreated to  stand behind his desk.  “I am not sure.  It is random access.  At least so the Hive informs me.  I shall need to inquire of those who bear my... blood... to put it simply.  Someone is randomly drawing on the Hive and clearly does not understand what is happening.”  He paused a long moment.  “Or does not care what is happening.”

The shiver through the hive-room was palpable.  “Long shall we have a Queen who cares,” a voice said from the back.

“Thank you.  I shall continue to endeavour,” Diryish said quietly.  “I may not long succeed.”