Hellstrom's Hive

“How can he be Outside?” Hellstrom demanded, outrage amplifying the sudden surge of fear that swept over him. He whirled from the dark north end of the gloomy aerie, strode across the room to the female at the observer console who’d called out to him.

“He is,” she said. “See! There!” She pointed to the screen glowing with green brilliance in front of her. The screen showed Janvert’s figure, its outline shimmering in the scattered radiation of night-vision projection. Janvert was creeping along a dusty road.

“That’s the north perimeter,” Hellstrom whispered, recognizing the outline of the landscape beyond Janvert. “How did he get out there?” Reluctant admiration for this incredible male warred in Hellstrom with a swelling rage. Janvert was Outside!

“We’re getting reports of a disturbance at level three,” an observer at Hellstrom’s left called.

“He’s found one of the hidden doors out of level three,” Hellstrom said. “How did he get that far? He’ll be at that car with its watchers in seconds! The car’s right down in those trees.” He pointed at the screen. “Have the watchers heard him yet?”

“We have a pursuit team out after him,” an observer on the left called. “They’ll be a few minutes, though. They were on five and we routed them through the upper exits.”

The observer in front of Hellstrom said, “I got an interference flash just before I saw him, as though he’d used his weapon. Could he have knocked out the watchers in that car?”

“Or killed them,” Hellstrom said. “Poetic justice if he did. Who’s observing that car?”

“The team was pulled back an hour ago to help search for the escaped captive,” someone behind him said.

Hellstrom nodded. Of course! He’d given the order himself.

“There hasn’t been any conversation in that car for some time,” the observer just to his left said. “I have the pickup on the tree above the car.” The observer tapped the shiny ivory plug in her right ear. “I can hear Janvert approaching—the watchers in the car sound unconscious. They’re wheezing the way Outsiders always do when you stun them heavily.”

“Maybe it’s a break for us at last,” Hellstrom said. “How far away is the pursuit team?”

“Five minutes at the most,” someone behind him said.

“Get backup squads out onto the rangeland between him and the town,” Hellstrom said. “Just in case—”

“What about the other watchers?” the observer in front of him asked.

“Tell our workers not to attract attention to themselves! Devil take that Janvert! The Hive needs breeders that resourceful.”

How had the man escaped from the Hive?

The observer on his left said, “He’s almost at the car.”

An observer farther down the arc said, “Here’s the report on how he got out.” She turned, her face in eerie side light from the screens, and told him briefly what the cleanup teams had found at level three.

He rode a food conveyor! Hellstrom thought.

The Outsider took risks no ordinary worker would think of taking. The implications in that would have to be considered more thoroughly—later.

“The captive female,” Hellstrom said. “Has she been shown what will happen to her if she fails?”

Someone behind him spoke with obvious distaste, “She’s been shown, Nils.”

Hellstrom nodded. They didn’t like this, of course. He didn’t like it himself. But it was necessity and all of them could see that now.

“Bring her in here,” Hellstrom said.

They had to drag her into the range of the dim lights at the observation screens and then hold her upright when they stopped.

Hellstrom suppressed his own revulsion, spoke slowly and distinctly as though to a newly hatched child, and all the time he felt that he was sacrificing himself for the Hive.

“Clovis Carr,” he said. “That is the name you gave us. Do you still identify with it?”

She stared through the gloom at the greenish death pallor of Hellstrom’s skin. This is a nightmare, she told herself. I’ll wake up and find out it’s all been a nightmare.

Hellstrom saw the recognition that use of her name aroused. “In a moment, Miss Carr, your friend Janvert will come within range of a remote speaker we have out there.” He pointed to the screen. “I will attract Mr. Janvert’s attention then, and it will be up to you to get him back here if you can. I deeply regret that we must cause you this mental anguish, but you can see the necessity. Will you try?”

She nodded, her face a pale mask of terror in the green light. Try? Sure! Play right along with the nightmare.

“Very good,” Hellstrom said. “You must think in a positive way, Miss Carr. You must think success. I believe you can do this.”

Again she nodded, but it was as though she had no conscious control over her muscles.