Queen Bee

Melissa realizes when there are 2 Queens in a colony, 1 must leave... or die.

         Melissa simply collapsed onto the bottom bunk of her apartment, her original plan to throw herself onto the bed failing as her last bit of strength left her. The fact that she technically used the top bunk wasn’t a worry, Angie would understand.

For the last 14 hours, Melissa had endured a non-stop grind of physical aptitude training, then intensive manual labor, then testing, then more training. Even the meal breaks were standing-room-only due to the over-abundance of humans and the sheer lack of chairs. However, the worst of it by far was the mind-numbing, brain-melting, Ash-Corp-approved Skill & Knowledge Reassignment Program; SKRP.

Skrap, she thought bitterly. They couldn’t even come up with something better than that? Sheesh! Broadcasting pretty strong there what they think of the Arvad’s Chief Entomologist! I am just SKRAP!

She sighed, a dull feeling of uselessness creeping in as she corrected herself mentally.
The Arvad’s FORMER Chief Entomologist.

She’d graduated top of the class in Biology and pursued a doctorate in entomology soon after. Her parents ran the Arvad’s on-ship gardens and hydroponics program, being the best botanists onboard. She’d spent more time with trees and dirt than any other child in a century, a life that had both inspired her education and fueled her dream for the Adalia system. A new world would need someone like her, after all. Someone to balance any biome the pioneers encountered using insect ecology. And if the right insects needed crafting, she could turn to someone like Angie in Genetics Lab 7. They could tweak the bugs just enough to adapt the environment for the settlers in time. It was a remarkable dream for a new world.
I wanted to live in the trees again! she thought. I wanted to feel real dirt on a real world!

But there is no world now! She screamed inside her head. No dirt. No trees. No bugs. No use for me! No PURPOSE!

Her anger surged strength back into her limbs. She slammed a fist into Angie’s pillow and stood, still tired but too furious to stay down. Turning about her apartment, her eyes scanned for something, anything, until they settled on her dresser. There, among her few knick-knacks from life on the Arvad, she stalked over and grabbed one, staring at it intently.

Why can’t I have this! she demanded silently.
In her hand was a small crystalline cube encasing a winged creature just over 20 millimeters long. She turned it, catching the overhead light on the smooth thorax and pronounced ocelli, lingering on the dark abdomen.

Apis Mellifera Mellifera, her mind recited, kicking into gear. One of 11 honey-producing bee species, and the last to go extinct. Colloquially known on Old Earth as the European Dark Bee. Physical features indicate this is a queen.

Her knowledge, honed over three decades, flowed freely now. She willed herself to speak, her voice breaking the silence for the first time since entering.

“This insect lives in a well-organized social structure called a colony, consisting of a queen, workers, and male drones,” she said, her tone steadying. “Colonies reproduce locally through their queen, as she lays eggs in excess of 2000 a day. Colonies also reproduce collectively via a process called swarming. A colony cannot exist with two queens one must leave, or she will die. She takes loyal bees and resources from the hive and departs to build her own colony somewhere new. Somewhere far away…”

As she spoke, her mind eased, stress and anxiety fading to background noise. She rolled her shoulders and neck, unaware until now how stiff she’d become, and walked to a chair in the room’s center, sitting down.

Staring at the little queen brought back the day it was born, an experiment with Angie, her new roommate then, and fellow grad student. Angie’s thesis was on gene splicing and DNA recombination, using genetic material dormant for over 100 years as the Arvad traveled slowly to their destination. Melissa had wanted to revive the long-extinct honey bee she’d read about as a child. After a dozen failures, they’d produced a hardy, viable queen. Melissa had cultivated a colony, cloning workers for it, earning them both commendations and biodiversity accolades. It was her life’s peak. But weeks later, honeybees were deemed inefficient pollinators on the Arvad, too resource-heavy for her parents’ groves and the ships recreational gardens. She wasn’t allowed to make more. This queen, dead and encased in a crystalline polymer, was all she had left. 10 years of waiting to see colonies by the thousands, now SKRP’d.

“Why can’t I have this?” she murmured, turning the cube in her hands. “Why can’t I?”

~

         It was several hours later when Angela Piska came through the door. Melissa sat silent, facing away, staring at something in her hands. Angela tossed her bag by the door and glanced at her bed, the blanket creased, a fist-sized dent in the pillow.

“Rough day, Mel?” she asked, heading to her closet for clothes and a towel. “I heard they’ve got a big settlement going up on one of the outer asteroids, almost as big as Adalia Prime. They’re setting up a ship for it, Hauler-7, I think. Even planning some fabrication and manufacturing on-site. Might be able to get on a crew this round. Maybe even one with a cute pilot?” She chuckled, turning to grab a hanger, then paused, her grin fading as she caught Melissa’s stillness. “Mel? You alright?”

Melissa turned her head at last. “Angie…”
She looked at the cube in her hands, then up at her friend. “Angie, I… think I need your help.” She took a breath, steadying herself as she stood. “No, I do. I need your help, Angie. I’m going to get on that crew headed to that asteroid. I’m going to get out of here. And I’m not going to let anyone take who I am away from me.”

She paused, glancing down again. Angie followed her gaze, seeing the cube at last. Seeing the dead little queen inside.

“Oh, Mel…” Angie stepped forward, throwing her arms around her.

“It’s okay, Angie. I’ll be okay. I promise,” Melissa said, returning the embrace firmly, then stepping back. “But first, I need to get into Genetics Lab 7 one last time.”