Song of Bees Read online

  ‘They?’

  ‘The scientists...at Plan Bee.’

  ‘That’s not an answer,’ I lean forward to look at his name badge, the only one I’ve seen since I’ve been here, ‘Cain. It’s not an answer. No one asked me, no one ran it by me and asked if it was okay.’

  He nods again. He has a very calm way about him, and he looks at me like he understands why I feel the way I do. ‘What would you have said if they had?’

  I roll my eyes and shake my head. ‘I’m not sure that’s the point. They’ve taken my right to choose away, and as far as I know we don’t do that in this country. Not allowed to stick things in people without their permission. We’re animals. We have rights.’ I stand up and begin to pace, my default position when I’m under stress. ‘They...they had no right to do that. There’s no mandate or instruction in law that says anyone can do something like that.’

  Now it’s his turn to raise his eyebrows. A small smile plays around his mouth. ‘And you know that how?’

  ‘I studied...law...University College.’

  ‘Okaaay, but,’ he frowns, ‘you were working in a café. What happened?’

  I haven’t thought about it for a long time, the reason I left University College and gave up on my studies. Usually when someone asks me I give the high and mighty reason that I didn’t like some of the sentences handed down to some of the worst criminals in our society, that I thought the whole shebang was corrupt, or that a lawyer can’t win, we’re either defending people we know are guilty or prosecuting people we’re pretty sure are innocent of any crime. That’s what I tell people. The truth is different, and now I’ve got nothing to lose.

  ‘I lost my nerve.’

  Cain frowns. ‘Can I ask why, or is it personal?’

  ‘It’s personal.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Can I ask a question now?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘What’s Plan Bee?’

  Chapter 4

  I remember my dad telling me, if you don’t want the answer, don’t ask the question. I think I was about six when I’d found my guinea pig dead in its hutch. My beloved Columbine was stone cold and stiff as a board and I remember being horrified, first that it had died without telling me it was going to, and second, the look of it. I asked my dad if the same thing happened to people when they died, and he said yes. I ran into my mum, screaming my head off, inconsolable, the image of my parents in the same condition as my guinea pig behind my eyes, stiff, lifeless, cold and covered in flies. It’s something I’ve never forgotten. This is how I’m feeling right now.

  Cain didn’t hold back. He told me about Plan Bee, a project set up by the government to monitor bee activity because the world’s food production has reduced by twenty-five percent over the last five years, and without bees, well, we’ve had it. The bee population is steadily falling. They pollinate seventy of the hundred crops we rely on to sustain the world’s population of seven billion and rising. Cain said it’s not looking good, but when I asked him how all that concerns me he clammed up, decided he needed to be somewhere else with something more important to attend to. My stomach hurts with stress. I go from being constipated because of lack of exercise to needing the loo real fast because of fear running like lava through me. And that’s the truth of it. I’m terrified, and after what Cain told me I feel even more scared.

  Why the hell am I here? Have I got some new disease they don’t know how to deal with? Am I in quarantine? Why won’t anyone tell me anything?

  I slept badly, but I’ve decided. In the small hours when I was tossing and turning, pacing, scratching, I get really itchy when I’m anxious, I decided to make life difficult for them. Why should I sit here like a victim and let them do what they want? This isn’t me. It’s just not me. I’ve never been like this, never let anyone push me around or tell me what to do, not even after what happened when I was at university when I was at my lowest ebb. I fought back, raged against the establishment and stated my case. Okay...it didn’t work out quite the way I wanted it, but...I did what I knew was right. And it was right. For me.

  I bang on the door, and I keep banging until those outside get fed up with me. Female dork opens it, her expression unreadable. She’s like a robot.

  ‘Nina.’

  ‘Yes, it’s me. Were you expecting someone else? Have you forgotten I’m here?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Then why am I still here?’

  ‘It’s necessary.’

  ‘Not for me. I want to go. You can’t keep me here any longer. You haven’t done any tests for a couple of days, so you don’t need me to be here.’

  ‘It’s for your own protection, Nina.’

  Now I’m mad and sick to death of her stock answers. ‘I don’t need your protection. I can look after myself, I have been, since I was fourteen. Nothing’s changed as far as I’m concerned. Let me go. Please.’

  Female dork comes into the room and shuts the door. She stands and looks at me for a long moment, which makes me feel very uncomfortable. She takes a deep breath and rubs her chin like she’s thinking what to say. ‘I wish I could give you more information, Nina, but...I’m not allowed to. I know you’re frustrated but,’ she pauses, and her eyes slide to the left. She’s about to lie. ‘We’re considering your release for the end of the week.’

  She lied. I know it. They’re not going to release me. They have no intention of releasing me. So, if they’re not going to release me what are they going to do with me? I stare at her and she holds my stare, doesn’t even have the conscience or humanity to look away. She’s not embarrassed by her lie. She believes totally in what she’s doing. I’ve seen it all before.

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘Has that satisfied you?’

  ‘I said, fine.’ I glance away. I can barely look at her. For some reason I’m embarrassed. Does she know I know she’s lying? ‘When can I go then?’

  ‘The exact day and time hasn’t been decided yet.’

  ‘But I’ll be the first to know, right?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  I nod. ‘Right.’ She hesitates slightly, then leaves without glancing back. She’s done her job. I hope she’s pleased with herself.

  Lunch arrives with Cain. He makes a lop-sided smile, apologetic even. He pours coffee. I notice there are two cups.

  ‘You staying?’

  ‘Thought we’d have a chat.’

  I laugh. ‘Did she send you?’

  He frowns. ‘Who?’

  ‘Female dork.’

  This time he grins, a full-on, 100-megawatt smile that lights up the room. He has nice teeth. ‘Her name’s Lucinda.’

  I sip at the hot coffee. ‘Yeah, well, it would be.’ I go back to the bed and sit. ‘So, are you and she the same?’ He nods as he unwraps the sandwiches, more supermarket sliced bread, more plastic ham. ‘They’re letting me go, did you know?’

  He pauses for a moment, his grin sliding off his face. ‘Right.’

  ‘You didn’t know?’ He shakes his head. ‘You don’t look so happy about it. Surely you won’t miss me that much.’

  ‘Did you believe her?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I can tell when someone’s lying. I’ve had lots of practice. Body language.’

  He takes a deep breath, pushing the plate of just beginning to curl sandwiches away from him. ‘She wasn’t necessarily lying.’

  ‘Oh, well that’s a result. You think I’ll be released from here.’

  ‘It’s possible they’ll have plans to release you from here, but...it doesn’t mean they’ll release you.’

  I feel frustration curl up through my chest. ‘What the fuck... Why are you talking in riddles? Just tell me what you mean. They’re either going to let me go or they’re not. Which is it?’

  Cain puts his finger against his lips. ‘Don’t say anymore, Nina.’ He speaks sotto voce. ‘Just listen.’ I nod my eyes widening. ‘They probably will let you go from here, but they’ll watc
h you. Your life won’t be your own. You can’t go anywhere they won’t know about.’

  ‘Why,’ I mouth.

  ‘Because you’re a threat. Your blood has every antigen known, and possibly some yet to be discovered. You have the components of every blood type. You would probably think it’s a good thing. Many across the world will think it’s a good thing, particularly those with illness, or who have loved ones with a death sentence hanging over them, but the pharma companies who make billions from disease and who pay governments huge dividends, and government projects like Plan Bee, of which there as many as there are countries and then some, will not think so.

  ‘The global population is on the rise and our bee population has been decimated. Farmers across the globe have seen a massive fall in the production of food. We’re just about producing enough to scrape through, but if word gets out about you, about the possibility of the chance to cure every illness with a vaccination made from your blood or synthesised from your blood there will be utter panic. Natural selection will be a thing of the past. Everyone will want a piece of you, Nina, except those with the power to advance it or put a stop to it. They’ll more than likely want you dead.’

  I stare at him. My coffee cup is burning my hand, but I hardly notice. I’m in a bad dream, a nightmare. This can’t be real.

  ‘But...’

  ‘No buts, Nina. This is how it is.’

  The room kind of sways sideways. Anxiety makes my stomach roll again and it occurs to me that I don’t have any control over what’s happening. My throat has gone dry and the urge to cry is overwhelming, but I don’t even have the strength to do that. ‘What can I do?’ I whisper.

  He pulls a face. ‘What do you want to do?’

  ‘Get out of here, and not die.’ I bite my lip. Suddenly I’m very, very scared. ‘Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure of what you’re saying? They’ll have to kill me, won’t they? That’s murder. Government departments don’t murder people. Why would they kill someone? I thought the whole point of them was to save lives, not take them.’ I glance at the camera in the corner of the room. ‘They can hear us, can’t they?’

  He shakes his head. ‘In a meeting. There’s no one at the monitors and I switched off the recording devices.’

  ‘Why? Why would you do that?’

  He pauses before he speaks then looks directly into my eyes. ‘Because I don’t agree with what they’re doing.’ He gets up and pushes his hands into his pockets, walks around the room, his expression like stone. ‘We used to talk about it, what would happen if someone like you showed up. It was a joke more than anything because we never believed it.’ He glances at me. ‘We didn’t think it would happen. We didn’t think it was possible, but...a chance in a billion, no seven billion to be precise.’

  ‘There must be others.’

  ‘I guess so, but how would we know? Finding you was a fluke. And honestly, they don’t know what to do with you. You know the newspapers have got hold of the story?’

  I nod, feeling more miserable than I’ve ever felt apart from Dad disappearing and losing Mum, and I thought then I couldn’t feel more terrible. ‘They don’t know where I am though, do they? And how did the newspapers find out?’

  He shrugs. ‘Everyone here knows.’

  ‘But why would they leak it?’

  He takes a hand from his pocket and rubs his finger and thumb together. ‘You’re worth a lot of money, Nina, to some. It could have been anyone.’

  ‘Lucinda?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘You?’

  ‘Nope. Not me.’

  ‘I’ve only got your word for that.’

  ‘Yeah, you have, but I’m all you’ve got.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  He sits down again and faces me. I notice his eyes are ice blue, his skin light with the remnants of a tan, such a contrast to my colouring, brown eyes, with an olive complexion that tans to golden brown without burning. Thanks to my dad.

  ‘No one cares, Nina. You’re a bright girl, so I know you know that already. No one cares about you. It’s about money. It’s always about money.’

  A wave of tiredness hits me and all I want to do is lie down and let it all go away, but I’m pretty sure that’s not going to happen. I shrug and lean back on the bed. ‘There’s nothing I can do. If they release me I’ll have to try and get away, go somewhere where they won’t find me.’

  His mouth stretches into a downward crescent and he widens his eyes. ‘Good luck with that. They have people everywhere.’

  ‘I could try and find my dad.’

  ‘Where is he?’

  I shake my head miserably. ‘I wish I knew. He wouldn’t let anything happen to me.’

  Cain frowns. ‘But he left you. Why did he leave you?’ I shrug and turn my face away because I have no idea why he disappeared. If Mum knew, she wasn’t telling. Cain stands and walks to the door. I look up, disappointed he’s leaving. ‘You could escape.’

  I look around the windowless room with the locks on the door. ‘From here? How?’

  ‘Would you?’ I nod and he inhales deep into his lungs. ‘Leave it with me. I’ll sort it.’

  Chapter 5

  Two days have passed. I’m still here. The dorks haven’t mentioned my leaving, but on the upside there have been no more tests. I can only assume they know what they need to know, but I’m wondering what they have in store for me. I haven’t asked them if they’re going to release me at the end of the week, I daren’t mention it because I feel drawing attention to it might not do me any good. If Cain is sorting it as he says...I’m keeping quiet, which I think has surprised the dorks. They’re used to me having my say, nagging them about what they’re going to do with me, and my gut tells me they enjoyed it too much when they kept stuff from me. I’m not going to give them the pleasure.

  I reckon it’s Thursday. Maybe Wednesday. Whatever it is the end of the week is getting closer and if Cain is going to do something he needs to be telling me about it. A tiny curl of something I can’t explain has had me thinking that maybe he was playing games with me, getting his kicks by pretending he was going to help me. If that’s how it is I hate him more than I hate the dorks.

  Another day has passed, and nothing. Cain hasn’t showed. Every meal is now brought in by an orderly...looks like I’ve been demoted. It occurred to me that they might keep me here forever as a prisoner, just feeding me three times a day like an animal in a cage.

  Like my guinea pig.

  I’m dragged out of sleep by my arm being wrenched, pulling me out of bed.

  ‘Get dressed.’

  ‘Whaat, who is it?’ I squint into the dark and nausea rushes up to meet my throat at being pulled out of sleep without warning. A dark grey figure is outlined against the blackness and I draw in a breath. Jesus is this it? Are they going to get rid of me?

  ‘Get dressed,’ a voice hisses. ‘Hurry, Nina. I’ve got a truck waiting outside. We need to get moving. I’ve timed the guards. We’ve got two minutes. Hurry for Chris’ sake.’ I drag on my jeans, jumper and Parka over my underwear. I have no possessions so nothing to take with me. Cain grabs my hand and puts a finger against his lips. He opens the door and crouches down and I do the same thing.

  The corridor is dark, and as we pass the room with the monitors I glance through the glass partition. The monitors are on, and the guard who is meant to be watching them is asleep with his legs on the desk and his peaked cap over his eyes. Cain glances back at me and rolls his eyes. In front of us the corridor stretches out with just a flickering strip light at the end. A bit of a cliché. It reminds me of when Dylan and I played DOOM in his room in the halls of residence. Such an old fashioned, clunky game. This is exactly like that.

  We duck down so we’re below the glass partition. The security guard shifts as we silently pass the room with the monitors and Cain releases my hand beckoning me to the door at the end. He pushes down the handle quietly and opens the door which leads into another room with desks and more glass pa
rtitions. We go through and Cain closes the door behind us.

  ‘What’s this?’ I whisper.

  ‘Where we do PMs,’ he whispers back.

  ‘PMs?’

  ‘Post-mortems.’

  We make our way through the desks. ‘In here?’

  He frowns and shakes his head. ‘Forensic science and pathology.’ He puts his finger to his lips again, shaking his head to shut me up. There are voices. In the corridor. Security guards. One of them is telling an anecdote. I can tell by the cadence in his voice, embellishing, stretching the truth, wanting his partner to throw back his head and laugh. He gets his reward. I glance at Cain. His face his rigid, the outline of his jaw sharp. His breathing is so shallow I can’t hear it leave his body. His eyes are fixed on the corridor ahead. The security guards stop by the partition. One of the guards opens the far door into the office where we’re hidden but doesn’t bother to look inside. It’s like he’s on automatic, following the rule; open the door to every office, so that’s what he does. If he had looked inside and used his torch to search he would have seen me and Cain crouching by one of the desks. Cain shakes his head in frustration. The guards are useless, but it’s worked to our advantage. We wait. The guards have decided to lean up against the partition. One of them is telling a dirty anecdote, some poor woman he’s had. Cain and I can hear it clearly. Cain looks back at me crouching behind him. His eyes seem to be apologising for the guard. I shrug and put my head down.

  The guards move on and Cain puts his fingers to his lips again, then begins to shuffle on his haunches towards the door. He sticks his head out, looks up and down the corridor then beckons me forward. We go through the door into the corridor, through the double-doors on the right-hand side into a foyer where there are more cameras. Cain grabs my hand and pulls me through the foyer. The entrance should be secured but Cain has unlocked it and left it open, and through the glass doors there’s a black van parked outside with a white logo that reads, SCRIBE. He slides the side door open and virtually throws me in the back, then jumps in the drivers’ side, starts the engine and without taking a breath drives at speed from the facility.