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Golem in the Gears Page 20


  Grundy realized that this could be a good thing for him, too. The more B’s the spider caught, the fewer would remain to attack him.

  But not all the B’s around the bonnet had charged in. The ones remaining seemed to be the warriors, who didn’t fetch nectar from flowers. How could he lure them in?

  Grundy smiled. His usual weapon was his best. “Hey, you horses’ B-hinds!” he yelled. “You couldn’t hurt an intruder if your hides depended on it!”

  That aroused several. They buzzed angrily at him—and were trapped by the spider.

  He tried again. “I think your stingers are dull! You’re nothing but useless drones!”

  That roused several more. But two or three remained, too dull or too canny to respond.

  Grundy had a flashbulb of an idea. “Help: I’m in trouble!” he screamed in the voice of a Queen B.

  That got them. Without pausing to reason why, they zoomed to him—and were caught.

  “That seems to be all that are presently available; are you satisfied?” he asked the spider.

  “Definitely,” the spider agreed, selecting a succulent B to suck dry. Grundy turned away; he really didn’t enjoy watching the way a spider fed.

  Now Snortimer carried him up the tree and to the branch above the nest. “If I don’t come out before the swarm returns, get out of here,” Grundy told the Bed Monster. “Go back to the others and tell them they’ll have to get along without me.”

  “You’re brave,” Snortimer said.

  Grundy laughed. “Brave? I’m terrified!” Then he let himself down on the silken line, and swung to the entrance to the bonnet. After a couple of tries he was able to catch on to the rim and scramble in. It was a tight squeeze, for he was larger than the average B, but that made it easier for him to wedge himself in without falling.

  Inside, he took out the first net and carefully applied it to the rim of the hole. The webbing was light but very strong, and sticky at the edge; the spider had told him how to use it, and though he was clumsy, not having as many legs as a spider did, the web fastened very firmly. No B would readily pass in or out of this!

  Now came the bad part. He knew there were other B’s inside; he could hear them humming as they worked. He held his pin-sword in one hand, and his web-net in the other, and worked his way upward.

  The bonnet, inside, was constructed of many thick layers of cardboard, arranged in rings. Several passages opened out to the sides, slanting upward. He had thought the bonnet would be dark inside, but it was not; the B’s had set small glowing fungi at the intersections. That made it easier for him to travel, but also made him more visible. Well, they could probably tell he was here by the smell, anyway, once they were alerted. So far the B’s seemed to be minding their own B’s wax, fortunately.

  This was a huge, three-dimensional labyrinth, seeming much larger from the inside than it had from outside. Perhaps the B’s B-witched the bonnet to make its inner dimensions magically greater. But there was no intentional confusion; the passages were straightforward, and it was easy enough to proceed directly toward the center.

  Up to a point. When he reached what he presumed to be the central chamber, where the Queen B should be, the passage was blocked by the sturdy gray cardboard building material. This was evidently a restricted area.

  He tried to poke a hole in it, to push through, but it was surprisingly tough stuff; his pin could poke into it, but only with such difficulty that it wasn’t worth the effort. He needed a fast way in.

  So he took a side passage. This was easier at first, because it was level, but he had to walk hunched over. The diameter of it was too small for his comfort, and he didn’t know where it was leading. He kept his pin and net ready.

  In due course the passage debouched into an impressive chamber. There were hundreds of cells, hexagonal in cross section, each filled with amber substance and sealed with translucent wax. This was evidently the honeycomb—the food storage depot of the Have. Grundy liked honey, but he wasn’t hungry for this right now. He just wanted to get his job done and get out of here before the swarm returned. He didn’t know how much time he had; the controlled lighting made this place seem timeless.

  A worker-B was at one of the hex chambers. It spied Grundy. “Hey—you’re not supposed to B here!” it buzzed in B-talk, alarmed.

  “I’m the honey inspector,” Grundy said, hoping to keep things quiet.

  “I’m going to fetch the supe b-fore I get in trouble!” the B buzzed, scrambling toward an exit.

  Grundy ran after it, stabbing with his pin. He hated to do it, but he couldn’t afford to have the supe on his case! But the B scrambled out just ahead of him, getting away.

  In moments several B’s buzzed in. One was evidently the supe-B. “That’s no inspector, that’s an intruder,” it buzzed. “Sting it!”

  Three B’s charged him. Grundy backed up against the wall of hexchambers, pin and net ready. But more B’s were entering the chamber, and he knew he would soon be overwhelmed.

  Then he had another lightbulb notion. He reversed his pin and stabbed into one of the wax seals behind him. The point penetrated and stuck; he wrenched it out sideways, and the whole wax cap pulled off with a slurpy sucking sound. The thick honey oozed out.

  “Save that honey!” the supe buzzed, horrified.

  The nearest worker batted its faceted eyes. “I didn’t know you cared, Supe.”

  “That honey, stingerface!” The supe buzzed angrily, pointing two legs at it. The worker, chastened, got to work.

  Grundy moved over and wedged out another cap and then a third. When a worker charged him, he put away his pin for a moment and used his hand to scoop out a glob of honey. He hurled it at the B. It didn’t hurl very well, but a good part of it got on the B’s wing, and got the creature in serious trouble. It forgot him in its effort to get the gooey stuff off and back into the leaking chamber.

  Soon Grundy was able to leave the honey-pot chamber unmolested.

  But he still hadn’t found a way into the central cavity. Instead he came to a quiet, dim chamber lined with cells that did not hold honey. He peered closely at one—and discovered that there was a monstrous grub in it. A developing B! This was the nursery.

  A nurse-B was approaching. Grundy didn’t have the heart to wreak mayhem here, so he hastily exited by the nearest side passage. This took him on around the Have and upward. In due course he came to a new, smaller chamber that had cardboard tapestries on the walls.

  A young and astonishingly pretty female B angled her antennae at him as he entered. “Well now, a visitor,” she buzzed dulcetly.

  “Uh, yes,” Grundy said, uncertain what was going on here. “I’m, uh, looking for the Queen.”

  “Oh, really,” she buzzed. “I didn’t think you were the type. You look more like a golem than a drone.”

  “I am a golem,” he confessed, surprised by the way she accepted him. She was much larger than the worker-B’s, and could have caused him some alarm if she had attacked, but she seemed quite friendly. “And you—”

  “I am Princess B-Nign,” she buzzed. “Soon I will take my maiden flight and mate with the worthiest drone, and then start my own bonnet.”

  “B-nine?” he asked, mishearing her buzz. “There are eight others?”

  “Of course not,” she buzzed cheerfully. “I was one of the first two out of incubation, so I fought and killed the other, B-Twelve, despite all the vitamins she had taken, and then cut off the heads of all the remaining prospects, B-One through B-Twenty. There are no other Princess B’s but me, now. Isn’t it romantic?”

  “But you seem like such a nice creature!” Grundy blurted.

  “I am a nice creature,” she buzzed. “I simply did what had to be done. A Have cannot support two Queens.”

  “Well, the Queen for this Have has been taken over by an evil mind,” he told her. “I have come here to capture her and take her away.”

  “That so?” she buzzed, interested. “I thought she was acting peculiar recently
. Sending almost the whole swarm out to bother the Fauns—we’ve always been at peace with the Fauns before. But when the Queen commands, all obey.”

  A new notion surfaced. “Suppose I took the Queen away—what would happen to this Have?”

  “Why, I would have to take it over, of course. That wouldn’t bother me; it’s always better to start with a well-established situation if one can. I’m not truly looking forward to starting my own; I understand there are all manner of dangers out there, such as birds and insectivores and pitcher plants.”

  “There are,” Grundy agreed.

  She wiggled her fair antennae at him. “Do you suppose—”

  “If you’ll just tell me how to get into the Queen’s chamber, I’ll do my best to take her out. I won’t kill her.”

  “You won’t?” she buzzed, disappointed.

  “If I did that, her spirit would simply take over another creature, probably you.”

  “Mercy is best,” she agreed. “But you won’t let her go?”

  “Never,” he agreed.

  “Take the third passage to your right,” she said, indicating a tunnel.

  Grundy headed along the tunnel. He passed straight through the first intersection, and the second, and turned right at the third. This led directly into the huge central chamber.

  He entered, and dropped to the curving floor, his pin and net ready.

  There was the Queen B. She was enormous, massing as much as Grundy, and she had big sturdy claws and a phenomenal stinger. “So you have come, Golem,” she buzzed.

  “I had to come,” he agreed, trying to choke back the fear that welled up in him. How could he overcome this ferocious creature?

  “And now I shall finally be rid of you,” she buzzed. She stood, stretched her wings, and moved slowly toward him. “Do you know what I shall do to you?”

  “I don’t think I care to,” Grundy said, watching her warily, trying to figure out her most likely mode of attack.

  “I will sting you just hard enough to render you helpless but alive and conscious,” she said, seeming to relish her own words. “Then I will use your flesh to feed my new crop of warriors. It will give them a healthy taste for blood.”

  Grundy quailed. That was just as bad as having one’s mind taken over by the Hag! “But first you have to score on me,” he said with whatever poor façade of bravery it was possible to manage.

  “And after that, I’ll have all your stupid friends stung into submission too,” the Queen Hag continued, stalking him. “Until at last Rapunzel is ready to do anything to spare them further humiliation and agony. Anything at all!”

  “You are the haggiest Hag I’ve ever met,” he told her, trying to judge whether he could catch her in the web-net with a single heave. She was so big!

  “And after I have her young and tender body, naturally I’ll put it through its paces,” she continued. “That barbarian’s a fairly handsome lout; maybe before I have him dispatched, I’ll—”

  The thought of Rapunzel’s body being used in that way so upset Grundy that he lunged at the B. This was what she had wanted; she buzzed straight up out of his way, so that he stumbled and lost his balance, expecting a resistance that he did not encounter.

  Before he recovered, she dive-bombed him from behind. He heard her coming and threw himself flat, so that she zoomed over him. It was a close call; the blast from her wings struck all about him. He rolled over, sat up—and saw her coming at him again.

  He hurled up the web-net, but it missed, blown away by that same wing-blast. He had to roll desperately aside to avoid her aerial charge, and the tip of a wing struck him as she passed. The wings looked gossamer-thin, but that was one smart rap!

  He scrambled to his feet before she could reorient. He retained the pin, but he had lost the net. That was half of disaster, for though he might be able to kill her, he could not capture her. If he killed her to protect himself, that would only free her spirit to take another form—and he didn’t want that!

  The Hag gave him no time to consider. She looped about and came at him again. This time she moved slowly, almost hovering in place, watching for her opportunity. He held the pin, ready to stab her, knowing that that was no answer. She had maneuvered him into a position of kill or be killed, which was exactly what he didn’t want.

  Suddenly she moved. Automatically, he stabbed with the pin—and missed, for she veered away. It had been a feint. But she spun about and came back at him before he could recover, much more swiftly than she had before, and buffeted his sword arm. The pin was knocked away as he stumbled forward.

  He turned to face her, but she was already on him, clutching him with her rough B legs, bearing him down under her weight and the thrust of her wings. He fell back, and clunked his head on the floor. It wasn’t a hard floor, but he felt dizzy for a moment, unable to resist effectively.

  “Now I’ve got you, Golem!” she buzzed. “I’m going to sting you into submission, not enough to kill you, just enough to paralyze you.” And she maneuvered to bring her big sharp stinger into position.

  “But you’ll die if you sting me!” he protested.

  “No I won’t, Golem. There are B’s and B’s, and this kind stings with impunity. Now let me see; I want the flesh to be properly tender, so I think I’ll sting you in the stomach. Brace yourself; this will hurt, and keep on hurting, as you swell up like a balloon. What joy!”

  The terrible stinger was descending toward him, and he could neither throw her off nor roll out of the way; she held him too firmly, braced by her own buzzing wings. He reached wildly for the pin, but couldn’t find it; it had probably rolled well clear. All his questing hand found was a loose length of line.

  Line? That was the end of the net!

  The stinger touched his clothing, as she maneuvered to sting him just the right amount—a more delicate matter than merely stinging to death. Now or never!

  Grundy lifted his arm and flung the net up. It lifted, spread, and settled down over the B’s wings. It clung to them stickily, for this was what it had been crafted to do—to be neutral to inanimate substance, but to catch wings firmly.

  “Yeeech!” the B-Hag buzzed, jumping up and trying to free herself. But Grundy pulled on the line, and the net settled more firmly about her. A B with its wings entangled was a B largely helpless, as the spider had shown. Now he had her!

  It was a struggle, for she was very strong, and tried to catch him with her stinger, but he continued hauling the net about, getting her snugly wrapped. He recovered his pin-sword and tucked it back through his belt. Then he hauled on his line, sliding her along. All was secure.

  But the exit from this chamber was above, and he was sure he would not be able to haul her body up there. She was sure, too: “You haven’t got me yet, Golem; the moment my swarm returns, you’ll be stingbait!”

  Surely true! What was he to do?

  “And I hear them coming now, Golem!” she buzzed.

  True again; he could hear the muted distant hum.

  Then he figured it out. “Princess B-Nign!” he called. “I’ve got her! But I need an exit!”

  There was a buzz at the hole. “Why so you do,” B-Nign agreed.

  “Sting this miscreant!” the Queen B buzzed imperiously.

  “I can’t do that,” B-Nign replied.

  “What? How dare you! Why can’t you do that?”

  “Because a Queen can’t take orders; she can only give them.”

  “But I am the Queen!”

  “You were the Queen. Now I am the Queen.” And B-Nign flew down to the bottom of the chamber, landed, braced herself, and used her sharp B claws to cut open the sealed main entrance. Soon the hole opened up.

  “Thank you, your Majesty,” Grundy said, and shoved the deposed Queen into the hole. She fell straight down to the net covering the bottom of the Have.

  Grundy followed, more carefully. But as he reached the main entrance, the hum of the returning swarm loomed loud. It was coming into sight! Feverishly he yanked awa
y the net-supports, so that the Hag-B could drop to the ground below.

  “Swarm!” the bundled Queen Hag buzzed. “Sting that golem! Kill the usurper Queen!”

  B-Nign appeared at the entrance. “Ignore that trash,” she buzzed. “I am your Queen now.”

  Grundy hung by the edge of the hole, not daring to drop that distance, while the swarm approached. Which Queen would they obey?

  Snortimer scrambled out below. “Drop: I’ll catch you!” he cried.

  Grundy dropped. The Bed Monster caught him. “Get me and that bundle out of here in a hurry!” Grundy cried.

  Snortimer set Grundy on his back, picked up the bundle by the line, and scrambled away just as the swarm arrived.

  “Help! Help!” the Queen Hag buzzed. But B-Nign was buzzing louder, and, after a moment’s hesitation, the swarm oriented on her. Grundy had won this round!

  The Queen buzzed again, more stridently: “B-Foul! B-Wilder! B-Devil! Here to me, my loyal minions!”

  Three B’s, summoned by name, hesitated; then they broke from the swarm and flew toward the Queen.

  “You go to her?” B-Nign buzzed, imperiously enraged. “Then you are banished from this Have, miscreants! If you or she ever show your antennae in these parts again, you will be executed! I have buzzed!”

  Grundy could tell by the way the three hesitated in flight that the sentence bothered them; it was terrible to be banished from the Have. Obviously she could make it stick, because the rest of the swarm stayed with her. These three and the Hag were through here.

  But now they had nothing to lose. “Vengeance!” the Hag buzzed. “Sting this golem! Free me!”

  “Get out of here, Snort!” Grundy cried. The Bed Monster accelerated, scrambling for the path to the Retreat. In moments they were well away from the bonnet.

  But the three grim minions of the Hag pursued them. Snortimer plunged through the thickest brush, to hide from them and confuse them, and this was working—but there was a snag. Abruptly he veered away from the deepest, most shadowed region.

  “What’s the matter, Snort?” Grundy cried, seeing the three B’s hovering overhead, looking for them.

  “I’m afraid of the dark!” the Bed Monster said.