The Bees: A Novel by Laline Paull

Author:Laline Paull [Paull, Laline]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2014-05-06T00:00:00+00:00

Twenty-Three

FLORA’S BODY HIT SOMETHING SOLID. SHE COULD MOVE neither wing nor limb of her waterlogged body but tumbled down through the leaves and bounced against hard branches until some spongy lichen slowed her fall. Her claw caught and she hung there in the rain. Gradually, she managed to dig more hooks in, and found that none of her limbs was broken. She hauled herself the right way up and pushed her cuticle bands apart. Water drained out. Very carefully, she crept toward the great bole of the tree and pressed herself into a dry crevice.

It was an old tree and true, after the vile pretense of the metal one. She could feel its strength drawing deep into the earth as it stretched its countless arms wide, welcoming the storm passing through. It was a beech; she recognized the leaf pattern from one of the trees at Congregation, and for a wild moment she hoped that when the rain stopped she would see drones of her home livery emerging from their hiding places, and they would all shake themselves out and fly home together.

The rain slowed, then stopped. The tiny, bright eyes of cars moved slowly across the dark plain of the fields, and far beyond that shone the lights of the town. Flora tried to lift her antennae to read even one scent, but storm-wracked and sugar-rushed, they told her she was still in flight. She checked her numb wings. On both sides the latches were smashed and the membranes showed tears in many places.

Flora began to shiver uncontrollably. Not for her the dramatic oblivion in the storm, with the Queen’s Prayer coursing through her body so that death would find her in a state of grace, nor even a forager’s Kindness, meted with respect and a strong, merciful bite. This death would take time. How bitterly now did Flora crave the sweet dark warmth of home and the comfort of her family around her, like those noble sisters who went to their final rest in their own berths with peace in their hearts. Praise end your days, Sister . . .

Flora wept in shame. She had been reckless and proud in trying to forage in the town without following any bee’s dance—then tricked by the wasp who had promised her safety and sugar. It hurt too much to try to open the inner channels of her antennae, but she already knew that Lily 500’s knowledge was destroyed. She clutched herself as if to feel a sister’s touch, searching her body for any last remnant of the Queen’s Love. There was not one molecule left, only the racking physical need for her lost home and family. At the thought of her second child, her little drone son who would now starve to death, Flora howled out her heartbreak, knowing she had done this to herself.

A rabble of crows cawed across the darkening sky. By primal reaction her alarm glands fired and she instinctively scented for any answering flare of support—but

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