The two friends prepared for a third day of foraging. Xandriel stopped on the way to the entrance to accept a dose of queen substance, the pheromone-laden drug secreted by the queen. Alida declined the offer and listened as the other bees passed it around.

"You better take your queen substance when you get the chance," Xandriel advised Alida. "The guards are going to get suspicious if you come home and they can't smell it on you."

"I don't need any right now."

Nearby, the queen buzzed with irritation. "You're crowding too close," she snapped at the groomers who surrounded her. "How am I supposed to lay eggs with you crawling all over me? These cells aren't even clean. Somebody needs to do a better job. I'm not going to lay eggs in a bunch of garbage." The groomers tried to soothe her, petting her and buzzing gently. Workers scrambled to clean up the cells.

Alida had once envied the queen, whose life-giving potential was astounding; the hive was like a giant womb in dedication to her power, with her at the center, surrounded by thousands of her children at any given time. While they lived briefly, she went on and on, diligently creating thousands of new lives each day from within her immense body.

Now that Alida had taken flight into the wilderness, she sensed more clearly the lack of exhilaration in the queen's life. The constant irritation that had once seemed like authority now seemed like bitterness.

"That's better," the queen said with grudging satisfaction. "Now move out of the way."

Alida and Xandriel moved toward the edge of the hive and pushed through the crowd. They took off in a new direction, angling slightly to the right of those just ahead of them.

This time, they came upon a beautiful flower garden near the hive of some large mammals. The bees picked from the most productive of the variety, approaching carefully in case any more insects happened to be lying in wait for fresh prey.

Seconds passed, and two of the mammals appeared, positioning themselves on either side of an angular structure near the garden. They began feasting. In between mouthfuls of food, they made loud, bizarre noises.

"Check that out," Alida said. "They're singing - through their mouths."

"Yeah, mammals do that. Those are humans; I haven't seen much of them, but the earlier fliers told us plenty of stories about them. They seem pretty harmless, but I guess they sometimes get erratic. A few bees have been attacked by them for no apparent reason. They don't eat us or do anything else with us. They just freak out and leave us to die."

"Maybe they're stressed."

"Maybe. They don't seem to be in touch with their math. Their hives don't appear to be accurately proportioned, and their behavior isn't very predictable."

Alida had stopped working and was staring at the humans. They were, by far, the noisiest and most hideous creatures she'd observed thus far; but she'd caught a sudden whiff of something pleasant in their midst. "Do you smell that?" she asked.

"What?"

"It's like honey." She left the flower and moved closer. One of the humans had picked up a large cylindrical cell in its upper leg and was pouring honey through a funnel-shaped opening, distributing it across some other type of food.

"It is honey," she called to Xandriel. "They're pouring it from something . . . and they're combing it with some sort of other food. Do humans make honey?"

"I don't think so. They probably scavenged it from bees. Alida, get away from them."

At that moment, another human appeared from a portal in the hive. This one was much smaller than the others, and louder. Its two enormous eyeballs fixed on Alida. She took off as the human yelled and ran toward her.

"There you go," Xandriel said. "Perfect example of erratic behavior."

Alida landed back at the flower bed. "Maybe that's one of the guards, and it was protecting its hive from me."

"I doubt it. The humans are out of control. Maybe they need some queen substance to keep them in order."

Alida was silent. She had developed a slight distaste for the queen substance, and was reluctant to agree that anyone needed it.

They finished working and returned to the hive. Xandriel was briefly concerned that the humans might try to follow them back and come after their honey supply, but the three mammals were disinterested and paid no attention.

After unloading their supply, Alida begged to return to the garden. "It's nothing to sing and dance about, but we could make a couple more trips and bring back some good nectar." Xandriel agreed, and they flew back, navigating over familiar terrain until they reached the spot. The humans stayed in their hive while the bees sucked nectar into their second stomachs and gathered pollen. After another unloading and many excursions elsewhere, the bees returned to the garden a third time, as the day was drawing to a close. The soothing glow of a lone firefly greeted them as they landed.

"There, that's a sight I like to see," Xandriel said softly. "They may not be as productive as we are, but they have their math down, and they make a beautiful sight with it. That's the divine spirit talking right there. No reason to be out and flashing the world; all the other fireflies are gone. But there it is, flashing its beautiful little light just for wanderers like us."

"There's math involved in the flashing?"

"Yeah, there's math. Keep watching. Each firefly species has its own code to use during the mating season. The females flash at timed intervals, and the flashes have certain lengths. The males respond to the code they recognize. But there's a particular type of female who imitates the flashing patterns of other species so she can trick the males into coming to her, and instead of mating with them, she pounces on them and eats them."

"That's horrible," Alida said.

"They're just trying to survive. They probably need the protein for their eggs."

"But you're not supposed to use math that way. They're faking a desire to produce life so they can deceive and murder other fireflies."

"Death produces life," Xandriel said. "That's just the way it is in nature. No one can help that."

"But species can change. We go about our lives without killing, except in self-defense, and we've survived."

Xandriel cast her a queer look. "That's not true. The queen kills. We produce a number of potential queens so that the fastest and deadliest of them can destroy the others and reign over the colony."

"Oh . . . I guess that's true."

"And then there are the drones."

"What about them?"

"When summer is over," Xandriel began, and was interrupted by the sound of large feet slamming against the ground.

"There's the wild one again," Alida said, watching the human shout and flail its upper legs.

"You've got to be kidding me," Xandriel murmured. "Can't we have any peace?" The human had fixed its eyes on them and was heading in their direction.

"Let's go," Alida said. Before either of them could take off, the human swung a thick upper leg at the bees, sending the flowers into pendulous swaying. Alida lifted herself into the air and backed away.

"All right," Xandriel said as the human raised its leg again. "This thing needs to be taught a lesson." She flew straight toward the creature's midsection and planted her stinger in it.

As a guard, Xandriel had deftly killed an invading wasp and helped hold off other intruders; her stinger had slid into and out of the insects with some ease. But this time, the stinger remained lodged in place as Xandriel pulled away. The soft tissues that connected the poison sac to the rest of her body tore audibly. As she sputtered through the air, the sac stayed behind and continued to contract rhythmically, still pumping venom into the small human. The thing turned away and wailed loudly, running into the shelter and carrying a chunk of Xandriel's body with it.

Alida rushed to her friend, who had landed nearby. Her body was oozing with the damage, trying unsuccessfully to heal itself. "Holy shit," Alida said, staring helplessly at the mess.

"I'm going to die," Xandriel said.

"Wait, no, maybe you're not. Just hang on." Alida looked around as if for help, and turned back to Xandriel in a fixed daze.

"Shit," Xandriel said.

"What should I do?" Alida huddled closer, trying to shield her friend from death. "Xandriel? Xandriel?"

Xandriel's body expanded a little. Her compound eyes seemed to flash and abruptly fade, and then she went still; and Alida knew she was dead.

"Xandriel," she cried softly, nudging the body. Time seemed to be moving cruelly, too quickly; the body was already stiffening, ready to decompose. Little creatures were stirring around them, sensing a new food supply with which to sustain their own lives. Alida turned away and lifted herself into flight, looking back once before starting the long journey home.

The trip was slow and dismal. At last she reached the hive, presenting herself to a line of guards who arched their asses and fanned the colony's trademark scent toward incoming workers. The guards crowded Alida as she landed, probing gently and giving their approval.

"The bee Xandriel is dead," she told them.

They looked slightly puzzled. "Okay," one said.

"She stung a human, and her stinger got stuck in it, and her whole poison sac ripped out, and she died."

"That's all right. The queen is laying hundreds of new workers every day."

Alida went inside and wandered the darkness of the hive, moving along the endless strings of busy workers. A young bee approached and offered her some queen substance.

"No thanks," Alida said. The bee moved back into its position, latching onto a chain of workers who were busy passing wax down the line, manipulating it with their jaws; nilanin passed between them as they worked. The bees secreted the wax from under their bellies, ushering it away with their legs. Above, fanners moved and cooled the air with their wings; other workers tested the stored honey for moisture content, using a drop of acid from their stingers to preserve the honey that had reduced to fifteen percent, capping off the cells with wax. New cells were filled as fast as they could be built. Alida observed the elaborate setup and felt for the first time that she didn't fit into it anywhere.

All foragers were allowed a few days of vacation, and Alida decided to take hers early. She had never rested before and wanted to spend her free days out in the wild. Trudging toward the entrance to the hive, she came across a pack of drones - the males of the bee colony - who were begging for food. The female workers admitted them small portions, regarding them with mild aloofness. Xandriel took special notice of one of the drones, a petite figure with eyelashes gracing the lower spheres of his compounds. He took his portion quietly and moved on behind the others.

Alida reached the entrance and flew out alone. She stayed away from the other bees and explored unfamiliar terrain, watched other insects, stopped now and then for food. At length she returned and stayed about a quarter mile from the hive; she rested until the day's end, choosing a high seat on top of a tall, non-flowering plant. The sun was sinking toward the horizon, casting the clouds in spectacular shades of blue. The pleasant songs of other species filled the air. Alida thought she recognized the patterns in song that came with dusk; birds, frogs, and other insects altered their tunes, acknowledging a closing interval in the daily cycle and the resulting changes in their own activities. Alida felt a twinge of curiosity about the patterns and a dwindling urge to discuss them with someone.

After a night in the hive, she wasn't sure what to do with the following day. She had lost her desire to fly out alone and spend the day exploring. Remembering her friendship with Xandriel, she shyly watched the other bees, trying to pick out one who looked approachable. The little drone happened to come by, and Alida stopped him.

"Are you looking for something to eat?" she asked.

"Are you offering?"

"No, I was just curious."

He stared at her in disbelief. "All right. You don't have to taunt me when I'm not even bothering you. Excuse me."

"No, wait, I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean it like that. I just noticed that you don't seem to have much to do. I was just wondering what you do besides eat."

"Yeah, I get that a lot. Like I said, I'm not bothering you."

"I'm sorry. I was just getting a little bored and wondered, if you weren't busy, if you could tell me about drone life."

He stopped and stared at her again.

"I don't know much about drones."

"So what's to know?"

"Well, I don't know. Why don't you work?"

"Are you joking? We're not workers."

"I know, but I don't think that means anything."

"We don't have pollen baskets. We don't have stingers. We don't have second stomachs."

"Well, there must be something you can do."

"Of course there is, but that doesn't put us in the worker category. Believe me, we all want to be able to work, and we'd earn our keep if we were allowed to."

"How come you're always hanging around in the hive? Can't you go out?"

He paused, eyeing her strangely. "If we went out, I don't know that we'd get back in. The guards check for pheromones when they're allowing bees back inside. We might generally have the colony scent, but it's not quite like the worker scent, is it? We don't go around passing drugs to each other all day."

"Haven't you ever been out of the hive?"

"No. The queen already mated some years ago and didn't need us for a mating flight, and there really isn't any other reason for us to go out. All I've done is stand at the edge of the hive and look out, but the guards always get irritated, and then I have to go back in right away. I'm not sure why we even exist. We aren't allowed to work; we have to beg for our food; we can't contribute to the population. I don't know why anyone bothered making us."

Why don't you just start working? I don't think anyone would stop you from pitching in."

"Yeah, they would. I tried sweeping once. The workers kept shoving me aside and telling me I was in their way. That's generally how it is; I'm sure you've noticed. Actually, I think you're the first worker who ever stopped to have a conversation with me." He regarded her curiously. "How come you're not working?"

"I'm on vacation," she said, a little defensively.

"Oh."

"We get a few days of vacation from foraging if we want. Half the workers are foragers, and if every one of us is working, we come back with more food than the others have made storage for."

"Maybe you can use the drones for storage," he suggested, rubbing his stomach. "We'd be happy to have some extras in our bellies. We just get a pittance. Sometimes I think of disguising myself as a honey cell so I can get a proper meal."

"Maybe I could bring you some food," Alida said.

"Well, you don't have to bring it. But we appreciate a decent portion, so if a drone comes to you for food, you can just give him what you'd get for yourself."

"Maybe I'll spend some time filling the honey cells. If I did that, it'd be easier for me to get food to the drones. You can look for me when you're hungry."

He regarded her curiously. "All right . . . if that's what you want to do."

"I'll try to get in right now." She scoped out the storage operation and approached a line of workers, fitting herself in where there was a space. She worked diligently and rhythmically; she felt the magic of math again, everything happening in smooth and productive intervals, her body chemistry working with other chemistries in nature to create a nourishing food supply.

Two drones stopped by and asked for something to eat. Alida tried to get their attention, but the other workers quickly shoved a few bites toward them and shooed the drones away.

"Can't the drones have bigger portions?" Alida asked.

"What for?" someone asked.

"Well, we feed them so little. Can't we just give them as much as we'd take for ourselves?"

"Why would we do that? The drones just sit around all day. They don't burn as much energy as we do."

"Oh . . . I suppose you're right." She paused. "But they're bigger than us, so they probably need more food, even if they don't work."

"No, they don't. We know what we're doing." The bee peered at her. "Aren't you a little old for this? You should be foraging."

"I'm between trips."

"Well, maybe you should get back to work."

Alida left them in a huff. "They won't listen," she told the little drone when she reached him.

"Yeah, I got that." He had been watching with some amusement, and seemed pleased by Alida's earnest attempt. "Maybe you need to think up a better argument. The 'drones are bigger and need more food' thing might be a little more effective if you have a mathematical equation to back it up."

"I don't know. They don't seem to care. Maybe if I could convince them to let the drones work, they might start seeing you a little differently."

"Yeah, they keep us pretty dispensable. Well, you do as you like. Don't push them too hard. It's nice enough to have someone speaking up for us." He started away. Alida watched the drones as they passed by, studying their bodies and movements, trying to figure out the equation for their food consumption, bodily distribution, and energy use.

Alida kept busy with her plans, stopping drones now and then to ask about their lives, testing the population to see how many would take the initiative to work. She sensed in them an overwhelming desire to contribute to life in the hive. Many drones, initially distrustful of her, opened up and talked of an aching sense of loss and meaninglessness, a suspicion that they existed as psychological punching bags for self-satisfied workers. Her friendship with the little drone, Erasmus, deepened and flowered. Alida decided to advocate for the drones and began by making vague comments to the workers, checking the hostility of their responses. She found a group of builders who didn't seem particularly opinionated about the worth of the drones. She tested her ideas on them.

"You know, it's a shame that we can't build these cells fast enough for all the food that comes in," she remarked.

"Yes, we can," one of the bees replied.

"Not exactly. I mean, the foragers have to vacation so that they don't bring in too much food. They could keep working if we had more builders. I was thinking of how much more efficient the hive would be if we had more builders."

"We're doing fine," the bee said irritably.

"I can see that, but more builders would mean more cells. We could get more builders easily if we took them from the sweeper pool. The drones could take over sweeping duties, and then we'd have more cells and more food for winter."

"What?"

"I'm trying to get some work for the drones," she explained. "A lot of them want to earn their keep. They want to start cleaning the hive."

"Are you serious?" the bee asked. "The drones don't need to work. They're supposed to relax. They did their part already; and besides, if they became workers, we wouldn't have anyone to sacrifice to the divine spirit."

"What?"

"Well, if they worked, it'd be like we were killing workers."

"What are you talking about?"

"When winter comes," the bee explained, "we throw the drones out to die and rot and become part of the soil. Their bodies help fertilize the dirt. That's our life offering to the holy trinity of math: The soil gives birth to the flowers in spring, the flowers produce our food through the summer, and we kill the drones and feed them to the soil when winter comes."

"That's sick," Alex said. "That's insane. Are you sure that's what happens?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. How can you not know that?" The bee moved its antennae closer to her, sniffing. "Your queen substance content is low. That's probably why you don't know things. Do you have trouble keeping up? When was the last time you had any queen substance?"

Alida withdrew.

"Someone get her some queen substance," the bee called.

Another bee approached and tried to pass the drug to her.

"I don't want any," Alida said. She realized that the bees were backing her toward the center of the hive, toward the queen and her drug-laden body.

"What do you mean, you don't want any? Take some."

"I don't want any right now."

The bee studied her carefully for a moment. "If you haven't been flying, maybe something's wrong with your work focus. Isn't it about time for you to get a job? You could groom the queen."

Alida had always passed up the opportunity to groom the queen. She had worked as a nurse instead, caring for the larvae, feeding them the combination of ingredients that would determine their future roles. "I'm going to work on the comb. I've done enough personal care giving."

"You could protect the queen."

"No."

The queen overheard the last bit of this exchange and tried to whip her head around in their direction. "You remember who gave birth to you," she sputtered. "Who's saying no? How would you like to spend your entire life laying eggs in the dark with apathetic daughters crawling all over you and patronizing you every f-ing second?"

The young groomers tried to keep her calm, petting her bulging sides, buzzing gently.

"You should apologize," the other bee whispered to Alida.

"No."

"Go and lick her. You need to do it."

Alida drastically lowered her voice. "I am not going to lick the queen. And I don't want any drugs. Leave me alone."

The bee looked appalled as Alida turned and stalked away. "There's little hope of being left alone in this place," the bee muttered.

"They're going to kill you," Alida told Erasmus, her voice laced with panic. "The workers are going to drag all the drones out at the end of the season, and leave you all to die in the cold. Everyone is planning it."

The drone didn't seem particularly surprised, but dismay touched his voice as he said, "That makes sense."

"They're saying it's because they have to sacrifice you to the divine spirit." Alida waited for a response, then insisted, "You have to do something."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you have to organize the drones, and fight back."

He shook his head. "We can't fight. We're not strong. We don't have weapons. We're vastly outnumbered. They'll sting us all to death."

"But you can't just let them kill you," she pleaded. "That's murder. There has to be some other way."

He watched her doubtfully. "I don't know where you're getting your ideas. Are all the other workers planning on killing us?"

"Well, I think some feel more strongly about it than others; but I talked to a lot of them, and they all seem to agree on it."

"Then why are you arguing with them?"

"Because it's wrong."

"I would check around a little more and see if you can't find someone who agrees with you," Erasmus suggested. "If you're the only worker left in the hive who thinks we shouldn't be sacrificed to the divine spirit, everyone's going to think you're daft, and no one will listen to your ideas. I don't see how the drones could ever fight the workers. We would only stand a chance if the workers decided not to attack us."

"Then I'll persuade them," Alida said. "There have to be some other workers with some sense. I'll check around and see who I can find."

Alida set off at once to find some help, feeling the closing in of winter, the approaching doom faced by the drones. She found herself annoyed by the drastic similarity of the worker population, a trait that had previously seemed graceful and efficient to her. The hive became a creeping factory of future murderers.

But as she was observing the workers, she noticed something unusual about one particular bee. This worker seemed mathematically perfect in form, and her colony scent didn't differ in strength from the others; yet her behavior was markedly different. The deviation was subtle at first; Alida had been studying the group of bees for a few minutes before she noticed it. This bee was at the head of a chain of builders. While most of them kept busy with their work, this one paused occasionally to check the work and comment on the performance of the bees. Her buzzing was noticeably louder and steadier than the others, and her articulations were impressive. The others seemed to listen to her and readily accept her judgment.

Alida lingered there, then followed the lead bee as she finally moved to another area of the hive. "Excuse me," she said.

The bee stopped and appraised her.

"I need to talk to someone about something that's going on in the hive. I noticed that the other bees listen to you, and I thought maybe you could help me." She paused, but got no response. "Do you have a name?" she inquired.

"I'm the bee Engramine. Who are you?"

"Alida."

"What can I help you with, Alida?"

"I want to talk about the drones. The drones want to work, and everyone is planning on killing them. I don't think it's right, and no one will listen to me. Can I talk to you about it?"

Engramine waited for several seconds before answering. She moved closer to Alida in the dark - so slowly and smoothly that Alida barely noticed - and probed her with concealed interest.

"Sure you can," Engramine replied. "Why don't we step out of the way?"

"Okay . . ."

"Right over here, we won't be in anyone's way. What is it exactly that you're concerned about?"

"Killing the drones," Alida replied. "No one else seems to think it's wrong. The drones are offering to work, but no one will let them. The workers treat them horribly."

"Yes, the workers tend to get a little irritated by the drones. I'm surprised you don't express the same irritation. Did the drones approach you about this subject?"

"No, I asked them about it."

"I see. And what exactly did you ask them?"

"Well, they barely get any food, so I asked them if they had enough to eat, and they were talking about wanting to participate in the hive and work for their food."

"They want to become workers."

"Kind of. They want a chance to participate."

"Does it seem a coincidence that they spend the entire summer lazing around, and just as the work season is drawing to a close and their lives are about to end, they suddenly want to contribute?"

"I don't think anyone ever asked them before. Some of them have tried to work, but the workers always push them aside."

"Have you ever seen a drone trying to work?"

"No," Alida admitted reluctantly.

Engramine paused, taking a moment to size her up. "You seem like a very trusting bee," Engramine said at last. "I wouldn't get too friendly with the drones if I were you. They move around all day trying to get pity from workers, and you've made yourself an obvious target."

"That's not how it is," Alida protested.

"In any case, we need to do our part and give something up to the process of the divine, with respect to the holy trinity: The soil that births, the flowers that sustain, and the divine spirit of math that oversees all life. It's our duty."

"We don't need to sacrifice anyone. The flowers don't kill each other. Soil particles don't kill each other. The whole sacrifice thing doesn't make sense."

"How else could we contribute to the continuum? We immunize our hive and produce our food with substances we extract from the plants. The drones enrich the soil and make fertile ground for new plant life. It's a highly productive exchange."

"But it's murder," Alida protested.

"How so? No one has to kill the drones; they die on their own on the outside. If they were willing to build and forage through the summer, perhaps they would have a place to stay through the winter."

"But we don't let them. We don't even warn them. By the time we kick them out, it's too late for them to think about that."

"Bees are mortal, Alida. We live for the good of the colony, and we die for its good when our jobs are done. The drones have only one job: to mate with the queen. They don't work. They don't contribute in any way after their sperm is collected. They vacation and beg for food all summer long, and then we throw them out so they can't drain us of our winter supply before spring arrives. They pass away, they decompose, and their bodies provide sustenance for other important creatures."

"But their life span isn't even over yet, and we organize things so that they can't work. Don't you think the drones have a life span for a reason? Why are we cutting it short?"

"The drones could work if they really tried, Alida, but their behavior is traditionally submissive. They are large and lumbering creatures who produce substantial amounts of sperm. They're only good for making babies, and that's all the responsibility they're accorded. We do show our appreciation. It just runs out when the air turns cold."

"But I don't believe all that stuff. I believe that a lot of the drones want to work. They're bored and depressed, and they feel like we don't give them enough credit as bees. We have a system that locks them into submissive roles. We don't even let them demonstrate that they can be our equals in this colony."

Engramine seemed to regard her more carefully. She moved in a slow half-circle, as if on a desire to study Alida from various angles, and Alida was forced to turn from her original position in order to face her examiner.

"Societies evolve through time," Engramine explained slowly. "They throw out old paradigms for more efficient ones. They develop and adapt to superior infrastructures that increase the productivity and longevity of the species. There have been times, in various colonies, when drones have been allowed to participate as equals. The result is always war between the sexes. One sex must dominate society."

"How do you know that? I don't believe that."

"There has never been any evidence of a sustainable community in which females and males participate as equals in every arena, or in any arena for that matter."

"We wouldn't know that. And there isn't any evidence to suggest that it's impossible. How would we know? No one investigates it. Hardly anyone thinks about it. Our lives spans are short, and we spend all our time working and taking drugs. Even if there was evidence that equality has worked for a colony, our perception is so convoluted we wouldn't recognize it anyway. We should try it. I think we should let the drones have jobs."

"The drones can't collect food. They can't nurse the infants. They can't defend the hive."

"They can clean. They could scout for us. Maybe they can't do things the same way we can, but I'm sure they can be creative and improvise. We might even try changing their diets and drug intake while they're still developing."

Engramine made a sound of mild disgust.

"Drones are capable of evolving, too. Even if takes hundreds of years for them to reach our level of productivity, we need to take a first step in order for it to happen. The drones can find ways to adapt and make themselves equally valuable if we let them, but we don't. We control their population so that we vastly outnumber them. We've made them almost totally inept. We couldn't reproduce ourselves without them, but we're totally unwilling to recognize them as -"

"Alida, perhaps it's the case that you've met a drone or two who have big dreams about how they'd run things if they had the chance. You should be a little more cautious about how you respond to them. Drones are not our equals as intellectuals. They are driven solely by the urge to mate."

"I don't believe that."

"Don't you?" Engramine seemed slightly amused.

"Well, maybe some of them seem that way, but what do you expect when we tell them that their only purpose in life is to mate?"

"Perhaps it's attraction you're feeling," Engramine suggested, a little more boldly. "You know how a low queen substance intake can affect your hormones. It may be that a drone has made a play on you, and you're responding with a desire to bond sexually."

"I am not," Alida said fiercely, although she felt a pang of doubt. "Quit trying to turn things around. We were talking about killing, not about sex."

"We've been talking about sex the entire time, Alida. The other workers will look down on such a preoccupation. You're already becoming an outcast in the colony." She paused, moving a little closer, as if in confidence. "Alida, the common majority of workers take the productivity of the hive very seriously. I advise you, with good intentions, not to be so naive." The bee parted company with Alida very abruptly, swept away in the activity of the hive. Alida hung her head in frustration and grief.

Erasmus eventually found her there, still looking defeated. She raised her head to speak to him in a low buzz.

"I don't think anyone is going to listen," Alida told him.

He seemed a little downcast, but said he wasn't surprised.

"I think we should come up with some other plan," Alida said. "Even if we can't save all the drones . . . well, you're small, and . . . you want to stay in the hive through winter, right?"

"Yes," Erasmus agreed cautiously.

"Well, I was just thinking, it might be easy to pass you off as a worker, if we just did a little work." She examined his body and made some calculations. "You'll look a little off, not mathematically accurate, but you could still pass."

He shook his head. "I don't think that will work."

"Would you please give it a shot? I don't want you to get killed. We can still try helping all the drones, but I don't want to go through the cold season without you. We can try to give you a sex change as a backup plan in case the other plan doesn't work."

Erasmus regarded her doubtfully.

"Please try," she begged, and he reluctantly agreed to give it a shot.

Alida started pushing Erasmus right away to get into better shape. When the time came for the next stage of his makeover, Erasmus managed to smear himself with queen substance as the workers passed him a bite to eat, and he quickly joined Alida for a flight outside the hive. The two bees found a quiet, shady spot to do their work. First, Erasmus needed a haircut; he was slight and not exactly shaggy, but still too hairy to pass for a worker.

Alida poised the tip of her stinger. Raising a hind leg and gently gripping his fur, she shaved off bits of it with slow care and precision, sensing the ready throb of poison in her body as her stinger sliced the fur from her friend's body. She felt a certain tenderness and excitement at the notion that she had adapted a biological weapon to a gentle deed. Come winter, she would have a loyal friend where a dead body would otherwise have fallen.

"See, it's working," she assured him. "It'll just take some time."

"I didn't think your barb would be sharp enough."

"It's sharp."

"You should open up a barber shop for other drones who want sex changes," he suggested.

Alida pondered the idea, then shook her head wearily. At length, she stepped back to eye the transformation. "That's good enough for now," she told him. "Now all you need is a job. I'll have to touch up your appearance every now and then, and you'll have to keep start taking the hormones right away, but you need to keep up a good work pace too. There will still be plenty of cleaning to do until the frost sets in."

Erasmus tried to view himself in the reflections of her compound eyes. "What about my thorax? It needs slimming."

"Just try to suck it in a little. It's not so rounded that people will automatically know you're male."

"I can't suck it in."

"You have to try. Squeeze it inward."

"I can't keep this up."

"You've just got to do it. You have to discipline yourself and get used to working all the time. Have you been getting in shape?"

"Yeah."

"How's your stamina?"

"Better than before, I think." He paused, his face falling a little. "Alida, are you sure this is all worth it?"

"Of course it is," she murmured, still studying his rear end.

"I'm worried about what they'll do if they figure it out. They'll just kill me or push me out, right? They won't do anything extra to punish me?"

"Why would they? Drones aren't worth anything to them, so they won't bother making an example out of you."

"If they catch me, can you beg them to just throw me out? I don't think freezing and starving sounds so bad, but I can't stand the thought of being stung to death by my own colony."

"Neither can I. But that's just it; this isn't our colony. The colony in general doesn't give a crap about us, and they'll throw us away when they're done with us."

"They won't throw you away."

"I'm not so sure about that. I'll do what I can, okay? I don't know that anyone will listen to me, but I'll put in a plea for you if anything happens."

After much thought, Engramine decided to pay a visit to the queen. Straightening her legs as she approached, she put herself at a higher stance than the groomers, interrupting the queen's laying process with a few bold words.

"Looks like things are slowing down here."

The queen seemed startled; the brooders were quick to respond, insisting that they were serving the queen as quickly as they could.

"Of course you are," Engramine assured them. "That's not what I meant. I meant that the queen's laying is slow."

The groomers' jaws dropped.

"Are you serious? Who do you think you are?" the queen asked after a moment.

"Just another worker, but one of many who's noticing some unhealthy developments in the hive. The bees are getting curious about the source of the problem, and I thought I should discuss it with you."

"The hive is in order." The queen turned her hulking body away and went back to inspecting a brooding cell, preparing to lay an egg in it. "This cell isn't clean," she snapped.

"So you agree that the workers' skills are faltering," Engramine interrupted. "It isn't just the nurseries that have problems. The whole colony is out of synch. Something is wrong."

"Who do you think you are?" the queen repeated. "I'm the queen. I know what's going on. Something is always wrong; it's always been that way. What would a worker know about change? Remember that: You're just a worker, nothing else. Your job is to serve me. You speak with more confidence than someone your age has a right to."

"Perhaps you need a fresh perspective."

"What do you know? You've not seen more than thirty days. I've lived more than a thousand, and all the while giving birth to creatures like you. You remember who made you."

"Perhaps you should take some time to contemplate who made you," Engramine retorted calmly, ignoring the gaping groomers. "The workers gave you the substance to become queen. The workers make your home, raise your offspring, bring your food, and sustain you in every possible way. And the workers are the ones who will raise a new queen when the time is right. What queen can reign without the worker caste? She is helpless and dependent, an oversized larva, overwhelmed with a life of pregnancy and delivery. What is one useless queen against thousands of workers and soldiers?"

The queen trembled with rage. "Is that a threat? I have a stinger, longer than yours, and I'm inclined to use it."

"A queen who kills a worker is not a proper queen; only a weakening queen who succumbs to stress would do such a thing. A queen who wastes time is not a proper queen, and yet you are arguing - and potential lives are passed over in that time. And I doubt that your groomers appreciate your longstanding abuses." Engramine paused, studying the queen's heaving body. "You know," she said slowly, "some of the workers are behaving very oddly. They're rebelling against the system. One in particular is making quite a ruckus; she's trying to organize the drones. I'm sure you've heard about it by now."

The queen remained silent, regarding Engramine cautiously.

"It seems that your pheromones are weakening," Engramine suggested.

"You give yourself too much credit," the queen replied, her tone faltering.

"You have the chance to swarm. You can run away."

The queen was shocked. "Are you kidding? You're telling me to run away? It's almost winter."

"Suit yourself," Engramine conceded as the queen regained her composure. "It was suggested with your well being in mind. The workers are getting perturbed." She turned and left abruptly.

In another part of the hive, Alida and Erasmus crowded closely together, trying to separate themselves from the others and exchanging soft buzzes.

"Alida, when are you supposed to die?" Erasmus was asking.

"I don't know. But it's scheduled to happen soon."

"I don't want to outlive you. I think drones have a much longer potential life span than workers. Queens develop for about 15 days before hatching, and usually live about three years, but can go three times that. Workers take twice as long to develop, and live only six weeks through the warm season. Drones are in between at 24 days . . . what's the math on that? Would our life span be in between yours and the queen's?"

"I don't think it matters much. Workers live longer during winter. Anyway, I think the drug makes a difference. It's an inhibitor. It inhibits my reproductive system, inhibits my behavior . . . maybe if I don't take it, it won't inhibit my life span, and I won't die when I'm scheduled to."

"If winter comes early, do you think you'll keep living through it?"

"I don't know. I don't think this conversation will help us at all. The math doesn't matter if we don't follow the system." Alida started as Engramine appeared in the crowd of workers. "There's Engramine. I can't be around you right now," she whispered. Erasmus withdrew to another part of the hive, and Alida made herself busy with sweeping.

Engramine picked her out of the crowd fairly quickly. "I have some news for you," she announced as she drew near. "The queen is thinking of swarming. Even now, in this late hour, she may be leaving us. She's getting old and her pheromones are diminishing. You know how it works: weak pheromones, weak order. Since you're so interested in overthrowing the system, I thought you and your drones might be interested in going off with the queen. I doubt you'll have any success if you stay. We'll have a younger, stronger queen in no time, with no tolerance for odd behavior."

"She's thinking of swarming now?"

"There should be a hollow space somewhere for a colony to store up for the winter. You should have your drones scout for it."

"The bees would starve to death."

"Not if they simply moved some of the food from this hive. We could make a fair split."

"We can't move it."

"The pollen can be easily uncapped and moved. Perhaps your inventive drones could figure out a way to move the honey."

Alida didn't respond.

"Think about it," Engramine said. "If you're still determined to help the drones, that's going to be your best option." She hesitated, studying Alida, and then made a quick exit.

Alida tried to find Erasmus, but he had gone. She made her way toward the center of the hive, crawling through the bustling workers, and stopped at the comb where the queen was laying eggs silently. An egg slid into a cell and the queen moved onto another. Something about the silence disturbed Alida. The groomers, too, seemed on edge, petting the queen with quick, erratic gestures.

"I would like a word with the queen," Alida said, moving closer.

The groomers looked terrified; the queen regarded her cautiously, but said nothing. Alida was surprised, and continued with some uncertainty. "I heard you were thinking of swarming."

"I wasn't thinking of it. A dangerously self-satisfied bee was thinking of it for me," the queen retorted.

Alida contemplated the comment, thinking of Engramine's well-honed persuasive skills, and wondering what her intent was. "I think it's a good idea," she said. "We could find a hollow place in a tree and move some of the food from this hive."

"How old are you?" the queen snapped. "Do you think a three-year-old needs advice from a one-month-old?"

"Yes, actually, I do."

"Another one," the queen muttered.

"Your age isn't working to your advantage. The colony is getting unstable, and the workers are going to blame it on your aging body and waning drug supply. You could swarm and take the loyal bees with you, and leave the rest behind."

The queen's eyes glinted with anger. "Do you think you need to explain the social dynamics of the colony to the queen? I made all of you. I'm the one who drugs you."

"I'm not on drugs."

The queen gave her a quick sniff. "Well, I still made you."

"This isn't about me."

"Right - it's about me. A queen knows when it's the right time to swarm, and this is not the time. Winter is on its way, and the colony is in order."

"I know it's late, but there's still a way to do it, and the colony is not in order. Something is wrong."

"Yeah, you're wrong. I think you're biased on this one, little worker. There are thousands of bees in this colony, but I can guess who you are. I've heard all about you. You think that if I swarm, you and your little drones can come with me and hide away from the traditional bees, and you can partner up with one of them and work on hive projects together and copulate. Isn't that what you really want?"

Alida balked a little, then recovered. "This isn't just about the drones."

"Right. Again, it's about me. You don't know the truth about drones and sex; take it from someone who has experience. Quit telling me to swarm. The queen knows best. You don't know the things I know."

"I think you're a little too confident in what you think you know."

"I think you're a little too confident, and what you think you know is really a very small misinterpretation of what I know in my confidence as queen."

"What?"

"How dare you glorify your simple youth and treat me like an old and stubborn bee? That's the problem with ageism. You refuse to understand anything I'm saying."

"I wasn't talking about age."

"We were talking about generationism."

"We were talking about sex, and then you told me that I'm young and naive, and you accused me of being ageist."

"I didn't say you're young and naive."

"You were talking about me being young, and then you pointed your leg at me and said 'That's the problem with ageism.'"

"I wasn't talking about you being young. You were talking about me being old."

"I was not."

"You're not supposed to talk that way to the queen," one of the young bees finally snapped.

"Let her talk to me," the queen retorted. "I'm enjoying her company. I can lay and talk at the same time. See how these bees patronize me? The day they say something intelligent, that's the day I'll let them tell me what to do."

"Never mind, I'm done talking to you," Alida replied dully.

"Have it your way," the queen snapped at the retreating bee.

At the edge of the nursery, Engramine sat still and listened quietly to the exchange, and finally moved from her position as Alida made her exit. The queen failed to notice her, still mumbling about ageism and swarming as she busied herself with laying eggs.

"Do you think she'll make it if she swarms?" a worker whispered doubtfully.

"No," Engramine replied in a low buzz, before anyone else could interject. "They're overambitious. They won't make it through winter. They'll freeze to death, and become part of the soil, and save us some trouble. And good riddance to anyone who has the audacity to join them."

The other bees were quiet, afraid of insulting the queen or contradicting Engramine's words.

The days shortened, and the workers began to pay more attention to the drone population. Engramine in particular was watchful, keeping quiet and still for long periods, trying to keep an eye on Alida and her companions. She noticed an oddball worker hanging around with Alida and wondered at first if she was some sort of co-conspirator. After closer inspection, Engramine began to get suspicious, but couldn't quite pinpoint what was wrong.

Alida, meanwhile, was becoming more vocal about her cause. The queen had refused to swarm, and too much time had passed to take up the opportunity. Alida tried desperately to advocate for the drones. The hive was filled with unrest and argument. Everyone debated the fate of the queen; workers fretted over a lack of order and custom; the productivity of the hive suffered. The queen tried in vain to keep her laying up to its former speed, falling into a steady silence and dragging herself about in a depression.

Engramine's puzzlement over the oddball worker increased. She decided to approach Alida, hoping the bee would slip up with some telltale information. "Hello, Alida," Engramine said casually as she sidled up alongside her. "Nice day for chatting, isn't it? Not much work to do now that the season is drawing to a close."

"I guess it depends on who you're chatting with."

"Yes, I noticed that you have a friend."

Alida felt pierced by a sliver of panic. "What do you mean?" she asked coolly.

"There's a worker who hangs around you quite a bit. She must be keen on your plan."

"Ah, well, it seems that none of the workers are in total agreement with my ideas," Alida replied. "But if the drones are going to be cast out, I'd still like to have a friend."

"She isn't embarrassed to be with you?"

"Not everyone is as militant as you are," Alida said defensively. "She doesn't have a problem with my opinions; we just enjoy each other's company."

"You must be a lonely bee."

"Not for the time being."

"It's going to get worse if you keep ostracizing yourself."

"Well, you can talk about being loyal all you want, but I see the way you operate. You call a lot of bees around you, and they become loyal to your words; but you're still a lonely bee if you're calling them to you with a deceitful buzz. You've got followers, but no friends."

"We're not here to make friends," Engramine scoffed. "We're here to get our work done."

"You can get a lot of knowledge out of having a friend. Maybe if more bees flew out in teams, we'd have a better idea of how to protect ourselves from predators. Did you know that bees die if we sting humans?"

Engramine hesitated.

"It's true. I used to have a friend who I flew out with. She stung an obnoxious human, and her barbs got caught in its flesh. Humans seem to have elasticity or tension or something in their skin that closes around our barbs and catches them. So her poison sac ripped out of her body right along with the stinger, and she died. I couldn't have known that if I hadn't been there watching her. Who knows how many other bees have died stinging humans and other mammals?"

"Which bee was that?"

"Her name was Xandriel."

"Maybe she was just a weak bee. Was she keen on your ideas?"

Alida sighed. "No, I hadn't talked to any of the drones yet."

"So you were a little lonely when you got hung up on drones."

"You need to go screw yourself, Engramine. I'm done talking to you."

"No matter," Engramine mumbled as Alida turned away.

Alida went looking for Erasmus, but quickly realized that Engramine was not far behind her. She's following me, Alida thought. What is she up to now? She could only guess that Engramine was trying to spy on her interactions with Erasmus; so Alida quickly changed her plans and headed for the edge of the hive, ducking past the guards and flying out into the cool air outside.

Engramine caught on to Alida's change of course. Knows I'm following her, she thought. Then, smugly, she set out to find the oddball bee on her own.

She wasn't too hard to find. Sweeping the hive, almost in time with everything around her, the oddball bee made herself busy. The bee was completely on edge; Engramine could sense the tension without even having to touch her.

"You all right?" she asked.

The bee seemed a little terrified. "What?"

"You seem a little upset, is all. You all right?"

"I'm fine."

"You worried about the drones being kicked out?"

The bee stopped her work completely, and regarded Engramine in silence.

"It's quite the topic of debate nowadays, isn't it?"

"I guess," the bee replied dully.

"I noticed you've been hanging around with Alida," Engramine explained.

"Oh."

"Are you keen on her ideas about the drones?"

The bee hesitated, slowly resuming her sweeping. "I don't see how it matters."

"Well, that's to your advantage."

"Alida's not so bad."

"Why do you associate with her?"

"Why wouldn't I? She follows her conscience. She just thinks we'd be better off not killing our own, that's all. I don't see how that makes her a problem bee. Why are you so intent on separating everyone from her? You've got some issues to work out?"

Engramine balked for a few moments, caught off guard. "I'm intent on keeping my colony in order," she said at last.

"Well, it's not anyone's colony, is it? It's just the colony. It isn't mine or yours, or Alida's."

"We have a responsibility to maintain the hive and fertilize the -"

"Fertilize the soil and pay respect to the holy trinity, yeah, I heard that one already. I think we lose enough bees over the season to fertilize the soil, and there are plenty of other dead things out there to fertilize the damn soil. I think Alida's right about that; we don't have to become killers in order to pay our respects to the trinity. We're going to die anyway when our time is up. Our bodies all get swept away and they all decompose on the ground. Your body is going to fertilize the soil and so is mine, no matter what."

"I see your point," Engramine said tersely. "It doesn't take math and tradition into account, though, does it?"

"I guess it depends on your point of view."

Engramine was quiet for some time, observing the bee, who began to tense up again under her inspection. "I'll leave you to your work, then," she said. "I'll think about what you said. Will you take some of this queen substance off me?"

"Sure," the bee said grudgingly.

Engramine passed over some of the drug, then stood there thoughtfully as the bee moved away and resumed sweeping at a comfortable distance. "Nice ass," she muttered. "Guess you're not a mathematically perfect bee either. No wonder you agree with Alida's ideas." She began sweeping half-heartedly and hovered near the odd bee for some time, thinking.

Alida was collecting pollen near the hive when Erasmus joined her, landing deftly on the swaying flower. "That bee Engramine has been following me," he complained.

"Yeah, I figured as much. She was following me earlier. I decided I'd come out for some air and check out the scraps that are still here. It's the least I can do after slacking off so much."

"Well, it's for a good cause, right?"

"I guess that's a matter of opinion. Did she talk to you?"

"Yeah. She wanted to know if I'm 'keen' on your ideas."

"She is up to some kind of trouble. She's already got almost everyone on her side, but she can't drop the issue even for a moment. I'm getting more than a little nervous about her."

"She's got poison wings on her. Who knows what she'll be buzzing about next - or even now." Erasmus shot a troubled glance toward the hive.

In the hive, at a good distance from the queen's chamber, Engramine was taking advantage of Erasmus' departure and calling the attention of the colony. "Workers! Listen up!" She was pressed for time and couldn't think of a better opening, but no matter; she had planned the rest of her speech carefully.

"I want to call your attention to the problem of erratic behavior in the colony. I'm sure you've noticed that one particular bee is trying to overthrow the system that has benefited us for as long as our genetic consciousness extends. This one worker has seriously impeded our progress in readying for winter. The main reason for this tragedy seems to be her refusal to accept the queen substance. Her behavior has been deteriorating over time and has reached the point of self-destruction. The bee seems to have been born a mathematically accurate bee like many of us, except in one respect: She is larger than average, and as a result, the drug was not properly distributed in her body. The queen's aging supply was not potent enough to have the proper effect, and over time, the bee lost her natural craving for the drug, and became a rogue. We can not tolerate such behavior in our colony. We are designed as one entity, unified to be the best possible implement in the holy trinity of life: the divine spirit who creates all, the earth's fruits which need sowing, and the sowers of the earth's fruits. We are not at our best possible state as sowers and as workers. The queen's inadequate biological processes are contributing to this erratic behavior in the hive. It is time to start a new cycle. As the drones are ceremonially cast from the hive in order to assure future life, new queens will be raised to unseat the one who is no longer useful. Tomorrow, the time will come for the drones to be turned out. Spread the word. Let us also prepare to turn out the old queen; we will arrange six queen cells in the new nursery."

"What if the queen won't lay eggs in the new queen cells?" someone asked.

"She will lay them," Engramine said. "If I could get a team of about a hundred workers to help encourage her, I'm sure she will lay them without argument."

Sure enough, once the cells were finished, the nervous queen was guided without protest to the new nursery, where she silently observed the enlarged cells obviously meant for future queens. She hesitated before laying the eggs, wondering if she could trick the workers by laying drone eggs in the cells; but she quickly realized it wouldn't be possible, and she was getting a little worried about how the workers would respond of she refused to lay. Surrounded by a crowd of silent and tense onlookers, the queen laid the eggs one by one and was escorted out of the nursery.

Next came the business with the drones. None of the workers said anything, but Alida sensed the beginnings of disturbance in the hive. At once the slow march began, a creeping and murmuring that quickened with the first catch, leading to a rush on the drones and an explosion of sound as the hive became a battle site. Many defenseless drones were stung to death; others were dragged begging or screaming to long, drawn out deaths in the cold. Alida and Erasmus watched the procession helplessly, huddling close together as a horde of violent workers swept past them. Other workers kept busy with the daily chores, busying themselves as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. In just minutes, only the carcasses of drones were left in the hive - and then there was Erasmus, not quite drone or worker, watching the mess in stunned horror.

"Everyone stop your work for the moment!"

Alida recognized Engramine's buzz, bold and confident, above the calamity. The bees listened to her and slowed their activities, then stopped and faced her.

"Everyone take a moment to respect the holy trinity and the sacrifice we make today. The bodies that fall outside this hive will fertilize the earth near our home. The drones who still live will travel some distance from the hive in search of sustenance, but their search will be in vain, and they shall die and fertilize many different parts of the soil. That is our sacrifice, and a productive one; for in the spring, the fertilized soil will provide us with the flowers of life."

A murmur of agreement sounded among the workers. Erasmus huddled closer to Alida, and she felt him trembling.

"Today's sacrifice marks the continuity of order and tradition in the colony. As you all know, the end of the season has been tumultuous. There have been some oddities in the hive that could not have gone unnoticed, and others that slipped our attention for some time. But be assured that someone has taken up the task of looking out for the integrity of the hive. What we have witnessed today is an incomplete sacrifice. The drones are not gone from our hive."

"Oh, shit," Alida whispered.

As if she'd heard, Engramine turned in Alida's direction. Alida could feel the smugness emanating from the pompous bee; she felt as though she and Erasmus were drowning in it.

"Observe, there at the edge of the comb, two bees huddled together in fear. One is the rebel bee who's been causing such disorder in the hive. Next to her is a bee who clearly isn't quite right. The rebel worker is presumably responsible for the transformation that the other has tried to undergo; someone appears to have shaved the bee, administered hormones, and taught the bee the basics of working life. But the truth should still be clear enough when pointed out. In addition to her formal complaints, the rebel has made an unspoken attempt at saving one of her lazy friends. Behold: a drone disguised as a worker!"

"We have been plagued by promiscuity, inappropriate relationships between workers, even this attempt to transform a drone into one of us," Engramine said to the crowd of gaping workers. "No more of this! We must not tolerate this behavior! The drone will be cast out, and the worker will be dealt with as we see fit."

A group of workers dragged Erasmus away with sudden force. Alida called after him, struggling with another gang of workers who had surrounded her and pinned her to the comb. Her friend disappeared quickly through the crowd.

"Stop! Don't do that! You're all on drugs!" Alida screamed. "Listen to me! You're all becoming murderers! You can't think for yourselves because the queen is drugging you! The drug is controlling your minds!"

"Apparently, she isn't aware that the queen's reign is ending," Engramine announced lightheartedly, as if she meant to make a joke of Alida's efforts. "Workers are developing new queen larva as I speak. Would our grudging queen allow such a thing? We know that she refuses to let go of her station in life, and therefore must be overthrown. Could such a thing be possible if she controlled our behavior? This wayward bee simply doesn't keep up with current events. Her unconventional lifestyle has rendered her body and mind unstable. But let us forgive our sister; she doesn't mean anything by it, and she will be set right again."

"That's not true!" Alida protested. "I know I sound unstable, but that's because I'm desperate. You're killing my friends. Please don't kill Erasmus!"

"Perhaps this bee would prefer that the entire colony starve," Engramine suggested, "or that we go mad from crowding. Please return to your work. We will see that our fellow worker gets proper treatment."

Before Alida could make another sound, the gang set upon her and shoved her backwards into one of the nurseries.

"Not in there," Engramine said. "Put her in one of the honey chambers near the outskirts of the hive. When the hive has been cleared of the bodies, remove the workers from the area and guard the entrance."

"Yeah, she might go crazy and kill all the larvae in here," another bee agreed.

"But if she stays in a honey chamber, she might eat all our food," another argued. "Why don't we just get rid of her?"

Alida felt their glassy eyes on her. For a moment, she felt intense fear; then she snapped at them. "Are you kidding? I'm not going to eat all your food. I'm just one bee. That doesn't even make any sense."

"We're not going to kill her," Engramine said quietly. "We don't kill workers. She just needs some help, right? And killing her will just upset the other workers, won't it?"

"No one will care," said the first bee.

"Don't underestimate them," Engramine replied. "She is no longer a common worker; she has become recognizable, infamous. I don't want this one to become a martyr for the naive social concerns of others. The workers have freedom to bring up ideas. They have nothing to fear from any faction of the colony. This bee just needs to be fixed; so we'll fix her. She'll change her mind, she'll apologize, and everything will be set right. Get on with her."

The bees pushed Alida onward, and Engramine stayed behind, watching them go.

Another worker approached. "Wow, she's totally nuts," she said in an awed voice. "I wonder what happened to make her like that? You think it's just withdrawal, or do you think there's other stuff wrong with her?"

"Yes, she has some problems," Engramine replied, shaking her head sympathetically. "I just hope there's some way I can help."

Alida served about six days of confinement in the half-filled honey comb. She was commanded to carry out her responsibility as a worker by varnishing the raw, empty cells with propolis, the antiseptic paste made from plant resins, balsams, and wax, mixed with a bit of pollen and essential oils. Alida wasn't allowed to participate in making the concoction; she simply rubbed it diligently onto the cells. She buzzed gently to herself as she worked, stopping when she ran out of her supply, overindulging herself with honey. Engramine noticed her eating habits and reprimanded her.

"How can you tell me what to do when you're keeping me prisoner in here?" Alida snapped. "I'll cope however I want with this tyranny. You act like you're some kind of leader, but you're no leader. You're on some kind of psychotic power trip."

"Am I? I'm just sticking to tradition. You're the one who's been trying to exert power over others," Engramine replied.

"I'm trying to exert power? What do you call dragging bees from the hive and stinging them to death?"

"I call it proper action."

"You're sick," Alida said.

"Well, if it's sickness, I share it with the entire colony. I guess you think everyone's sick but you. Everyone's psychotic but you, right?"

"No, I'm not saying everyone's psychotic. It's just you - the evangelist of the colony. The things you say are twisted and sick. You're using the idea of a holy trinity to justify killing."

"Well, it's like I said; I'm just sticking to tradition." Engramine's voice was patient, gentle. "You go around with your opinion, I go about with mine. I'll leave you to your thoughts now."

"Go ahead. You're driving me up the comb."

Alida enjoyed privacy for some time after Engramine's departure. Workers entered every now and then to supply her with more propolis. They came and went with barely a word. Engramine, on the other hand, had plenty to say upon her next visit. Her approach became more aggressive, but the change was subtle. She reprimanded Alida once again, gently, and assured her that things would get better as Alida's behavior conformed.

"A few parts of the hive were a bit shaken up by this whole thing, but I have assured everyone that this behavior stemmed from deprivation of necessities, and not from any ill will," Engramine explained to her. "The other workers, by and large, are not angry with you. You will have nothing to fear when you return to the colony. They understand the stresses you've been under, the confusion you've suffered. This has been a lesson for all bees; we can now see how easy it is to fall into the throes of an unhealthy lifestyle. We have a greater understanding of how to sustain the productivity and unity of the colony, how to keep from being taken up with lofty notions about individuality and reputation, how to prevent ourselves from becoming too self satisfied."

"I am not self satisfied," Alida shouted. She was fuming, her body throbbing with the heat of her anger. "I am not trying to make anything of my reputation, and you know it. I want to enjoy my life and feel it's worthwhile, and I can't do that if I'm making others suffer. You're murderers! How can you live like that?"

"Well, now, if we're all terrible murders and you're not, then you must be awfully satisfied with yourself. Isn't that so? And if your only goal is to enjoy your own life, then you must be primarily concerned with yourself - right?"

Alida stared at Engramine in fury.

"That's all right. We'll give you time. Your anger will recede, and your thinking will be less muddled." Engramine moved closer; her tone became gentle. "I know you're having a hard time trusting other bees. Of course you have doubts; that's perfectly understandable. Of course you're unstable and want to lash out. Of course you have questions and need guidance; we all understand; we all want to help. We will be patient. No one holds you at fault for your lack of faith in the system. There's no need to be embarrassed. This, too, will pass."

Alida sat there in dumb shock, unable to move until long after the other bee left the nursery. "I can't believe this," she finally whispered.

Engramine came and went infrequently as the days passed, and Alida spent most of her time alone. After the sixth day, she was moved to another area of the hive, still in solitary confinement but for six larvae sleeping in fresh cocoons spun in wax-capped brooding cells.

"Given your gentle and protective nature, we thought you should be the one to watch over the developing queens," Engramine said to Alida. "How do you feel about that? There are raw cells that need varnishing here, too, so you'll have something to keep you occupied."

Alida accepted her fate with a few mild words.

There was no food in the comb, and the queens wouldn't need to be fed again until after they emerged from their cells. Guards brought bits of food to Alida along with the propolis; her portions were even smaller than those that had been bestowed on the drones. Alida sensed the weakening of her body and psyche. She was unsure of her own sense of time, unsure of the mathematics of everything, uncertain what the other workers were doing beyond the quiet solitude of her chamber. She felt her sense of the diverse outside world, of the various expressions of life in nature, slipping away. She thought of the queen trapped in the middle of the dark hive, surrounded in every direction by guards, blessed with a single distant memory of flight in the wind and sunshine, separated from the rest of the colony by her condition. Alida suddenly felt like a queen.

"Your work skills," Engramine murmured to her on the third day, sighing with disparagement. She turned and observed Alida in a contemplative manner, a glint of pity touching her eyes. "Your physiology is deteriorating. . . ." She shook her head. "I can only guess at the state within."

"I already used up all the propolis. They haven't brought me any more."

"It should have lasted longer. You didn't measure right."

Alida didn't respond.

"I admit I'm getting a little disappointed that your progress is so slow. I know you mean well. I didn't think it would take so long for you to catch on."

Alida remained silent, refusing to speak for the rest of the visit. Engramine paced, said a few reassuring words about Alida's future, and departed.

Alida began fantasizing frequently about the outdoors. She imagined flying with Xandriel and Erasmus, the three of them caught up in a series of adventures far away from the hive. At night, they braved the cold and the unknown and huddled together for warmth and security. Alida pressed her body against the comb and tried to imagine a soft body next to her instead of the immobile wax.

In the middle of one of her fantasies, she got an unexpected visitor. A young bee timidly made her way into the nursery. Alida stood there in disbelief, and then wondered what kind of new trick was being played on her.

"Hi . . . my name is Xandria," the young bee said. "I thought you could use some company. I heard you've been alone for days."

Alida eyed her suspiciously.

"You're Alida, right? The one who tried to save the drones?"

"I had hoped to save us from becoming murderers."

Xandria seemed thrown off by the comment.

"The guards let you in here?" Alida asked.

"There's only one guard. She's sleeping now, so I thought -"

"And how are you going to get out without her noticing?"

"I just thought I'd stay for a minute. Anyway, I bet I could convince the other workers that it isn't good for you to be in here by yourself."

Alida thought she was lying, but Xandria's soft buzz was nevertheless putting her at ease, and she realized with a slight ache how lonely she'd been. "You better go before you get in trouble," she said with some regret.

"Okay. Sorry. If it's all right, maybe I can come back later and convince the guards to let me in."

Alida didn't respond. Xandria watched her for a moment, and then moved toward the entrance of the hive with a soft "Bye." She slipped out quietly. Alida listened for other sounds, but heard nothing unusual.

Time passed and she found herself anticipating another visit from the bee. Sure enough, she showed up again the next day or so, entering just as shyly as she had the first time, with a soft "Hi."

Alida watched her closely and said nothing. In spite of herself, she felt grateful for the bee's company.

"I talked to the guards for a while, and to that other bee . . . Engramine. They said it was okay for you to have a visitor."

"Really? Just one visitor, or am I allowed to have others?"

"I . . . don't think anyone else has offered. . . ."

"No one else wants to chat with the crazy bee? How come there's one bee in the hive who's so interested in my well being?"

"I just thought . . . there are so many bees around me all the time, and I was just imagining how hard it would be not to have anyone."

The comment touched a nerve. Alida turned her face away from Xandria.

"I didn't think what you did was bad. You were just trying to help, the way everyone else spends their time helping out. Everyone wants to be a good worker and do what's best for the colony. Your way was just different."

"Different from most of the workers, maybe. I think the drones liked my idea."

"Well . . ." Xandria trailed off.

"But then, I guess it's easier for workers to believe that the drones didn't really care about helping out in the hive."

"I guess I never really talked to a drone," Xandria replied.

Good answer, Alida thought. She moved a little closer to Xandria, trying to get a better sense of her intentions.

"How old are you?" Alida asked.

"Um . . . thirteen days."

"So you'll live through the winter, and see the next season begin."

"Yeah."

"I'm going to be dead soon. You may want to spend your time befriending other bees who'll be around longer. I'm not very popular."

"That'll change. You can get back into the colony if you want; I don't think anyone is mad. No one even talks about you anymore. I think you could get right back in and no one would notice that you're any different from the other workers. Anyway, I think it's admirable that you're looking out for the queen bees. It shows that you're gentle."

Alida said nothing, just waited, wanting to know the truth.

The conversations proceeded slowly from there. Xandria visited every now and then, offering gentle support; but the visits from Engramine stopped. Xandria was talkative, and approached every subject with uncertainty. She began to speak frequently of the holy trinity, despite Alida's misgivings; she ascribed an innocent quality to it, made it pure, gave it life. Her mannerisms became more confident. The hive was full of honey, the flowers would bloom again in spring, the sun would shine on a new generation of bees who were really damn good at math and who helped the earth regenerate itself. There was all the time in the world to change. The bees simply needed to go with the flow of nature and change with it; bees couldn't force change, but the earth could force its inhabitants to change, and the earth seemed pleased with the bees.

Alida's body filled with exhaustion and hunger. Her stomach knotted and ached. Her senses dimmed. She craved attention from Xandria, craved approval, transformed her desire to help others into a determination to please those in immediate contact with her. When Xandria expressed doubt in herself and asked Alida to join her in becoming a good worker, Alida rather readily agreed. Xandria beamed, then looked inexplicably guilty. "I'll let the others know," she promised.

Engramine was the first to enter the nursery, her boldness more evident than ever.

"Hello there," she said cheerfully. "I hear you're about ready to get back to life in the colony. You've been recuperating here long enough, and I see you've done a wonderful job watching over the queens. With some queen substance, you'll be ready to become part of the team again. What do you say?"

"I think you're right," Alida said with anxious fatigue. Her glazed eyes tried to focus beyond Engramine, on the pheromone-laden guards waiting to serve her. "I think I would feel better with drugs."

"Don't lick me," the queen whispered desperately as Alida approached. The guards kept their distance, assured of their success. "You're right. You don't need any drugs. They're going to kill me and nobody cares. You're trying to save the drones, right?"

The young bees tried to hush her, but the queen shook them off.

"I have a potential life span of nine years, but they're going to kill me early because I started to rebel. Anyone who rebels against the system is going to get killed or drugged. Do you understand? I don't want to spend every second of every warm day having babies. I needed a break. They're going to kill me because I wouldn't lay all f-ing day. I'll go out of my mind if I do that."

"The drones are already dead," Alida said flatly. "Don't you pay attention to anything other than your own problems?"

The queen faltered. "I know they're dead. But you can still save me," she said half-heartedly, sensing Alida's contempt. And then she noticed Alida's scent, more potent than before, and she realized that Alida had already received queen substance from the other bees.

"You've been drugged," the queen said. "They just sent you out here to lick me to prove your conformity."

"It doesn't matter. The drones are dead. I'm going to die soon. No one cares about this."

"But they will. They will care if they remember you like you were. The things you said made sense. But no one will remember if their last memory of you is like this. You're like a zombie. This stuff about killing for the good of the colony and for the ultimate benefit of nature isn't the truth. There isn't any truth," the queen persisted. "There are only methods. The methods we use are cruel. My pheromones are drugging you so that you don't have access to your natural feelings and your natural ability to reproduce. Your natural ability, Alida, do you hear me? The reason you felt all this anguish and did all these things is because you weren't on these drugs." The queen paused. "And now you're on them again. But you were born with them in your system, and you somehow chose to reject them. You can do it again."

Alida responded with a cryptic look of amusement. "At this point, I don't think I have any greater chance of getting the drugs out of my system than you would."

"The drugs are in my system, but I'm still trying to rebel. The workers are going to starve me to death."

"Wow - just like they did to the drones," Alida deadpanned.

"Yeah . . . like them," the queen faltered.

"I don't trust you, and I can't help you. I don't trust any of you." Alida felt her heart breaking, thinking of her insurmountable fondness for Xandria. "It doesn't matter whether I have the drugs or not. They did something to me . . . and the feelings I have now . . . it's like they're fake. I can't explain it." The queen started to speak, but Alida quickly interrupted her. "And knowing that doesn't change anything. I'm too tired to fight this. I couldn't think straight . . . the math doesn't matter. I feel like I'm a hundred years old . . . but I can still feel the math closing in on me, pressing me to do what it says, and I'll die at the right time, just so they won't do this to me anymore."

The queen was silent, watching Alida with subtle alarm.

"And I'm going to lick you, even though -" Alida cut herself off. She moved away from the queen's face and gave three disinterested licks to the bulging torso, then turned away. Engramine waited patiently in the corner, emitting a low, satisfied buzz.

Alida had a sense that she'd been bludgeoned in the head, that some sort of explosion had taken place there. She felt no sense of purpose and didn't know if she served any purpose through her activities. She dragged herself through the hive in a fluctuating daze, sometimes overwhelmed by a dull terror, sometimes by aching relief. She craved death. But she kept living out her life, her heart ticking away toward the mathematically perfect goal. She could feel time moving past her and the last day arriving in its rightful manner.

She kept mostly to the queen nursery, watching over the cells and waiting for the larvae to emerge from their cocoons. She didn't know if she would get to meet the new queen, although she knew that one would emerge soon. Alida's death had been slightly delayed; the low supply of queen substance in her body had failed to inhibit her life span to the proper point in time. Engramine assured her that it was only a small matter. There was an equation that would correct the mishap and balance everything out. Alida tried to subtract the quantity of queen substance she'd had from the amount she should've had and apply the result to the normal equation for drugs and life, but her brain couldn't perform the calculations. She complained about the failure to Engramine, worried that her brain wouldn't allow her to function as a good worker. But Engramine soothed her, explaining that the equation would work itself out chemically in Alida's body, so that even though death hadn't occurred at exactly six weeks, her body would experience time as if death was arriving on cue. Alida's dimension would thus be mathematically perfect. The lack of drugs had simply stretched her body's perception of time. "Now get back to work," Engramine commanded. "You don't need to figure out all the equations when you've got the queen substance; the drug will tell you what to do."

Finally, the time came: Alida witnessed two of the queens stirring in their cells. She called out excitedly to the other workers, hovering nearby as the first queen finished chewing through the wax cover. The queen acted quickly upon emerging, her long stinger piercing through wax and killing the other active queen. Soon the other four were dead, too, stabbed and poisoned by their sister before they ever woke from their cells.

The new queen stood triumphant over her victims, sensing without any naivety of youth the meaning of her conquest. Alida saw strength and pride in the young queen and imagined, against the fog of her memory, that she would remain that way. New groomers rushed in on her, eager to begin their petting and feeding. There would be no laying until a few weeks before spring, when new drones would be produced from the queen's unfertilized eggs. The drones would mate with their mother in the spring, and a new worker population would rise.

Alida moved away from the bustling nursery that had once been so lonely and desolate. She dragged her aging body toward the entrance of the hive, sensing that her time had come; her job was done, and she could perform one last chore for the colony by helping dispose of her own remains. On the way, she passed another desolate chamber, nearly empty except for the hulking, glistening form of the old queen, who stared silently through weakening eyes. The queen had no reaction to Alida, may not have even noticed her. And Alida had no reaction to the old queen; she simply acknowledged what she observed and went on her way, eager to serve the colony, and to serve the divine spirit by achieving death at the mathematically correct moment.