The Bees: A Novel by Laline Paull

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    To Flora’s surprise, the ladies showed her to a bed. It was soft and sweetly scented, almost as fragrant as the cribs in Category One.
    “Because the Nursery is just beyond that door,” said Lady Violet from her neighboring couch. “Perhaps you shall see it tomorrow when we attend Holy Mother at her Laying Progress. With all the eggs and glowing cribs—it is a sacred marvel beyond words.” She coughed. “Do not be offended if we cannot take you; you are only here for one day.”
    “I will not.”
    “Your humble attitude is honor to your kin.” Then Lady Violet wrapped herself in a thin scented veil of sleep and spoke no more. Flora lay in the darkness, breathing in the divine nurturing perfume that held them like a tender embrace. She drew it deep into her body until she felt her abdomen soften and glow.
     
    T HE NEXT MORNING the sun bell rang and the Queen’s fragrance rose strong and sweet as the ladies opened the doors to the Nursery. They called Flora to come with them and they entered the great chamber of Category One behind a dense veil of seclusion. They were now in the most sacred area of the hive, the Laying Room, row upon row of immaculate cribs empty and waiting for the Queen.
    The Queen’s scent rose high as she went into her birth trance. Her face shone brighter, her scent pulsed, and then, with a fast, graceful rhythm, she began swinging her magnificent long abdomen from side to side, each time sliding the tip deep within a crib. At the back of the Progress, carrying the water and cooling cloths, Flora saw the faint point of brightness remaining in the wax, where a tiny new egg adhered to the bottom. Each one glowed with soft gold light, then faded as the Queen moved on, her birth dance so hypnotically beautiful that Flora wanted to swing her own body in joy, but seeing that none of the other ladies danced but followed most demurely, she held her urge in check and did as they did.
    Six times she returned to the Queen’s Chambers for fresh water and pollen cakes before all the cribs were filled. The Laying Room was soft and bright with new life, the Queen stood proud and exhausted, and her ladies wept in delight.
    Back in the Queen’s Chambers, Lady Burnet directed Flora to clean and make ready the common areas while she and the other ladies took Her Majesty into her private sanctum to prepare her for rest. As Lady Violet closed the doors, Flora curtsied and gazed her last on Holy Mother, her heart filled with love and a tearing sadness that this day of beauty and wonder was over. With the greatest attention she swept and cleaned, knowing that when the doors opened again, she must leave.
    The ladies-in-waiting filed back out. Determined to show that a sanitation worker had manners, Flora pressed her knees straight and curtsied to Lady Burnet.
    “Thank you for all your—”
    “Oh, do not be so craven.” Lady Burnet had a strange look on her face. “Holy Mother has requested you attend her again.”
    “Me?” Flora looked around at all the ladies. None smiled.
    “You.” Lady Burnet spoke neutrally. “Do not linger, go at once.”
     
    T HE Q UEEN PARTED HER GOLDEN AURA when Flora entered and bade her sit close by. Then she drew it close again, so that Flora was wrapped in it with her.
    “I have not left the hive since my marriage flight. Now I only taste the world through food and drink and the stories of my library.” The Queen gazed through her golden veil, as if out upon the open sky. “Did they frighten you?”
    “Yes, Holy Mother, at first. Then I wanted to know more.”
    “They tell of our religion, and must be fed with attention. After my labors I have not strength to scent them myself, though my ladies do their best. The priestesses read them when they can, but in these strange times they are so busy with matters of governance that it is not their priority.” The Queen smiled. “Tales of the world, my daughter, of beauty and terror.”
    “Holy Mother, I will read them