She’ll stay, too, if you ask. That’s the problem.
“Wait,” Sam was saying. “So if you get the password for the tutoring program, you can make him stop calling me friend number three?”
“No,” Lulu said. “That’s part of the whole operating system. I need the admin password for the whole thing, and that died with my grandpa.”
“I don’t know why I’m number three,” Sam grumbled. “I should be number one.”
“Friends number one and two were from Oliver’s preschool,” Roger said. “Just because they’re no longer friends doesn’t change that you were friend number three.”
Lulu clicked a few times and pulled up a screen. “Yup. Just what I thought.”
“What?” I asked.
“Perimeter defense,” she said. “It’s a third program that activated itself when these guys decided to come at us.” She tapped the screen. “I can see it running, but I can’t get into it.”
“I could’ve told you that,” Roger said. The fans hummed, and he rose into the air and turned to face us. “I now require silence. I am here to instruct you all on the perimeter-defense protocols.”
Chapter 7
We quieted and waited for the hovering robot to speak. There were only two chairs in the room. Lulu sat in one, and Mr.Gonzales sat in the other. The rest of us squeezed together, waiting for the lesson to begin.
Adingsound echoed from Roger, indicating class had officially started.
“There is a small attic space directly above us that contains approximately fifty all-weather document storage boxes. In these storage boxes are the handwritten inventory lists and maintenance logs from the honeybee construction of Burnt Ends. One of those boxes will have a red piece of tape atop it, and it is labeled ‘Supplemental Reports.’ This box is in the very back of the space, pressed against the wall, so I’m afraid you’ll have to get upon your hands and knees to retrieve it. Inside this box is a manual contained within a black aluminum folder.”
Roger turned to Rosita. “Lulu unqualified babysitter number one, I believe you are familiar with this room. Will you please retrieve this book for me while I continue?”
I felt my cheeks burn red.
“Uh,” Rosita said.
“If you do it quickly, you will get a gold star on your daily Smile Statement.”
“You better do it,” Lulu said. “You don’t want a frowny-face sticker.”
Rosita made a grunt and turned from the room, her camera drone following. I heard her pull herself onto the metal ladder adjacent to the control room. The small room sat directly atop the control center. There was a mattress there, too, one Rosita and I had shared more than once. Roger had never said anything about it. A moment passed, and we could hear her above us as she started to crawl over the boxes shoved in the back of the low room.
“While she retrieves the manual, let me give you background on this program,” Roger said. “As you know, the honeybees were designed to assist a colony establishing itself on a new planet. In addition to habitat construction, we were designed to assist in the defense of the colony in the unlikely circumstance that the local fauna is aggressive or if another colony of settlers decides to become unfriendly. In such a case, the perimeter-defense program is activated, and all existing honeybee assets are repurposed to defend the colony against any and all hostilities. This program was initiated this morning, triggered by the attack against myself and Oliver.”
The screen in front of Lulu blinked, and a map appeared, showing the ranch. Above, I heard a muffled curse from Rosita as a box fell over.
“We currently have a total of four hundred thirty honeybee assets, including me, the controller hive queen. Three scouts, and 426 drones. This is enough to give adequate defensive coverage of this ranch for a short period, but I fear it is not nearly enough to protect us from a full incursion. One of the scouts and one of the drones need critical repairs. In addition, another 247 drones are operating at suboptimal levels.”
The map changed, showing our section of the peninsula. I could see our farm at the very southern edge, the main road, the Gonzalesfarm, followed by several others. The small village square with the church and market and bar, and then the road leading north, meandering through a few more town squares, ending in the larger town of Burnt Ends, approximately forty kilometers away to the north.
The map zoomed to Burnt Ends, focusing just north of the town square and the mayor’s residence atop a hill the locals called the Sombrero. A warehouse stood on the map. It was where we brought our excess grain to sell. The grain would then be transported via auto train far, far away to Fat Landing.
“Underneath this warehouse is what remains of the honeybee assets used to help build the local infrastructure. Assuming this storage area hasn’t been looted, it contains multiple scout units, a few hundred additional drones, and hundreds of necessary maintenance supplies and upgrade materials, including supplies required for antiair defense.”
“Are you kidding me?” I asked.
“What?”Lulu exclaimed. “You said it was all disposed of! I have been working my butt off foryearsjust to—”
“Lulu, if you wish to speak, you must raise your hand.”
My sister’s hand shot into the air. Her knuckles were still swollen from her bar fight with Kitty Dominguez the previous week.
“I will accept questions after my introduction, Lulu. You know this. I’m afraid you’re getting a frowny face on today’s Smile Statement. Continuing. Protocol dictates we relocate our existing defensive structure to the population center of Burnt Ends. However, because of the existence of this control center and the time restraints to prepare our defenses, I suggest we keep this location as our base of operations. We still must send a team to the warehouse in Burnt Ends to retrieve the supplies in order to bolster our defense. This must be completed before the main assault begins in approximately six hours.”
