Bee Conspiracy, page 21
“As you all know, our city has been hit by an infestation of aggressive Africanized honeybees. This is a very aggressive strain of bee which, as we have seen, can attack humans in a swarm. These infestations have caused at least five fatalities and we cannot be sure when or where they might strike again. I encourage all Los Angeles residents, but especially anyone who has a known allergy to bee stings, to shelter in place until we have this situation resolved. As you know, I have always been an aggressive defender of the environment. I have undertaken a green agenda at every turn where I can, but in this case, we are going to have to resort to a campaign of overnight aerial spraying to eliminate the threat. We will send out an alert when the spraying is set to begin and in that case all residents should remain indoors until the spraying has completed.”
The press room erupted into a chorus of questions. Since Hester Lynne had met the mayor on several occasions, he picked her first. “Mr. Mayor, is this the only option to ensure the safety of city residents?”
“That’s a great question, Hester, and I am glad that you have asked. We think it is our best option to save lives at this point. As I said no one cares more about the environment than I do but we must take steps to protect the lives of our citizens.”
“This pesticide, aerial application, is it toxic for humans?”
“No, there is no need to be concerned about toxicity to humans, although I would suggest that people remain indoors while it is being dispersed throughout the city.”
“Will this pesticide kill other beneficial insects?”
“In this type of situation we must act promptly to save lives. The pesticide is meant to be targeted at these highly aggressive Africanized honeybees but it can also have collateral damage on other insect species.”
“Mr. Mayor, the city honeybee population is already reeling from various unknown causes, for instance, colony collapse disorder and other toxic pesticide exposures. Doesn’t a widespread application like this threaten the entire population of honeybees in our city?”
“I hope not. I don’t think so. We are still not certain what causes colony collapse disorder or whether it has any connection to pesticide exposure but nonetheless we must act. This pestilence stands to curb commerce and daily activity in our city if not dealt with so we must act to preserve human life.”
“But isn’t it possible that the worst is already over and the overly aggressive bees will die off on their own?”
“I have no indication that is the case,” he replied.
“When might this aerial spraying commence?” Hester asked.
“It could being as early as tonight,” the mayor replied. “We will keep you updated. I thank you for your time and please, everyone, be safe out there and exercise all caution.” He stepped away from the podium.
“Mr. Mayor! Mr. Mayor! One last question. If all of the honeybees in the city were to die off, wouldn’t we experience an ecosystem apocalypse? We need pollinators for our citrus crops – what would happen if there were none?”
The mayor stopped and turned to her. “I think we might have a solution to that. But we are taking this one step at a time.”
The newscasters and pundits spent time discussing the mayor’s press conference. Several experts were called in to speculate on what the mayor’s cryptic comment could have meant when he said that they had a solution in the event that the city were to experience a mass pollinator die-off.
Gordon Lund was very happy. This was all going according to plan.
***
Kelso rushed past the news vehicles parked outside the entrance to the EOC. As he went to open the door, he was met by a member of the mayor’s security detail. “I’m sorry you don’t have authorization to enter.”
“I have urgent information in regards to the Africanized bee infestation,” Kelso pleaded.
“You will have to go through the mayor’s office for that, I’m sorry,” the officer replied.
Captain Brader walked out of the building in a huff. “Captain!” Kelso called. He intercepted him halfway to his unit.
Brader clicked his car door open. “What?”
“I think we broke the bee case.”
“Yeah, you definitely did that. I just got my guts handed to me on a platter by the Chief.”
“Sir, this entire episode is a planned, weaponized event to justify the mass spraying of pesticide on the city.”
“What proof do you have of that?”
“I have a team of entomologists currently in the field who can confirm that the flare ups all originated from bee boxes that were planted in strategic locations. They want to make it look like random attacks were happening.”
“Okay. Who planted them?”
“The evidence points to Gordon Lund. He and his company stand to make massive profits.”
“Off the aerial spraying? How is that? He’s donating all of the pesticide.”
“That’s just the beginning, sir. They want to replace the bees.”
“What are you talking about?”
“An electronic pollinator. The weaponized bees are a catalyst to get the ball rolling. First you kill the bees, then you replace them.”
“Did you know your supervisor is looking for you?”
“No, sir.”
“Well, she is. She contacted me. Something about an assault on a fellow officer with a trank gun?”
“That was all a big misunderstanding, sir. I had no time to explain and Lund’s man was demanding the bee prototype as ransom for Duke’s daughter.”
“You both kept me out of the loop of a hostage negotiation?”
“There was no time to explain, sir. I’m sure if it was your daughter you would do the same...”
“She okay?”
Kelso could not begin to explain how relieved he had been to find Beryl relatively unharmed when he arrived at the milking shed. He had wanted to embrace her but she had not exactly welcomed the comfort of his arms. It was to be expected, she would be in a state of emotional shock. But she was alive. Nothing else really mattered. “Yessir. Uniforms are arresting the kidnapper now at the Sage pesticide test farm in east county.”
“Who’s the perp?”
“One of Gordon Lund’s employees. He goes by the name Albert Fossil.”
Brader shook his head. “You stay right here, Bagley.” He locked his car and walked back into the EOC.
Kelso’s phone rang and he picked up. “Chris, what’s happening?”
Chris stood on the roof of a Costco in West Los Angeles. “I’m here at the Costco in West Los Angeles. There’re lines out the door – people are stocking up on supplies!”
“Do you have the bee box?” Kelso asked.
“Yes, I have it.”
“Have you disabled the timer?”
“Not yet. Maybe we should alert these people to clear the area first?”
“That will only cause more panic.”
“What is the timer set for?”
“Two hours from now. They knew people would be stocking up and they timed this to cause maximum collateral damage.”
Kelso was distracted. Hester Lynne faced Jerry’s camera and did a live report. “This is Hester Lynne, live from the mayor’s press conference at the EOC in downtown LA. Remember, I broke this story first and you heard it here: the mayor is seriously considering mass aerial spraying over the city to defeat this killer bee attack...”
This triggered Kelso. “Hold on, Chris.” He marched over to Hester and placed himself in front of her, live on camera.
“I am Officer Kelso Bagley of the United States Fish and Wildlife Service. The bees are not killers.”
“Yes, but they have killed, haven’t they?”
“These particular bees are hybridized for aggressiveness. But this so-called invasion of killer bees is a misnomer. The bees that attacked people were deliberately placed in strategic locations around the city to cause terror.”
“But I thought the eco-terrorist is in jail.”
“We were wrong. It’s not him.”
“You are saying he falsely confessed?”
“That is correct.”
“Then who is behind these bee swarm infestations?”
Kelso had an idea. “I’d like to show you.”
***
The paramedics arrived and checked Duke out. He had three bites, two on his calves and one on his thigh. The paramedic cleansed the area around the wounds and gave Duke an ice pack. They then applied antiseptics. They checked his eyes for any swelling and told him it was unlikely he had contracted Chagas Disease. It was typically spread by scratching around an unclean bite location and creating an open wound. Duke was happy that his mother had instilled in him at an early age not to scratch bug bites. He had heeded her instructions and it had saved him.
Beryl was checked out as well. She was seemingly in good condition for someone who had been through this kind of trauma. The paramedic put some antiseptic cream on her wrist with the rope burns. Remarkably she had no bee stings, and her vital signs were good.
The paramedic put his stethoscope over her heart. “Your heart rate is normal.”
“Thanks.” She smiled weakly.
“Are you okay?” the paramedic asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Beryl replied with a hint of impatience.
“Any fatigue or exhaustion?”
“No.”
“Nausea? Dizziness?”
“None.”
“You have any sense of anxiety or panic?”
“I told you, I’m fine.”
“I get it,” the paramedic said, recognizing her symptom.
“Get what?”
“You’re in denial. It’s one of the first stages post-trauma. Probably feel a little bit numb?”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
“It’s normal. You’ll probably move through some more of the stages. “
“Like what?”
“Your body has pumped a lot of adrenalin in the last few hours. It takes a while to turn that off. It could affect your sleep, your appetite, your sense of safety. Just be patient with yourself. Try to keep to a normal routine and stay busy. The most important thing is to talk about what you experienced. Your dad’s a cop. Cops go through stuff like this. I’m sure he can get you into a support group for trauma survivors if you need it.”
Beryl looked over and watched three uniformed police officers put on PPE. “Thank you.”
The paramedic smiled and packed up his gear.
The jumpsuited PPE cops pulled a limp Albert Fossil from the pit. They hosed him off from afar. The paramedics took a look at him. They determined he did not have any broken bones or other major injuries. Two police officers brought him to his feet and walked him towards a patrol vehicle. Beryl stared him in the eye as he walked past. Duke lunged for him. But another officer pulled him back.
Fossil and his escorts arrived at a waiting patrol car and they read him his rights.
“We’ll see you downtown,” Duke called out as Fossil was loaded into the back seat.
***
Inside the EOC, the mayor was not monitoring incoming police reports of bee sightings and injuries sustained as a result of infestations. He was not making plans to visit the injured and console them. He was not making sure there were adequate supplies of epi-pens readily available to treat people allergic to bee stings. He instead flipped through the local TV channels. He was much more interested in the coverage for his press conference. He wanted to be perceived as a bold, brave leader in a time of crisis. That was the most important thing.
The EOC lounge had a vending machine which dispensed soft drinks and Red Bull. Gordon Lund plinked his change into the machine and grabbed a can. He rose to see Captain Brader right behind him.
“Mr. Lund, I’m Captain Brader of the Robbery Homicide Division.”
“How can I help you?”
“My detectives are headed out to your farm test facility in the city of Industry.”
“Really? Why?”
“One of your employees, a man named Albert Fossil, kidnapped a young woman. She is the daughter of one of my detectives.”
“I’ve heard the name. Never had much interaction with him.”
“He used bees to terrorize this young woman.”
“I’m terribly sorry, Captain. I know we keep bees at the test farm, just like any agricultural operation does. I had no idea this Fossil was a psychopath.”
“Why did you employ him?”
“He cultivates the bees at the test farm and performs a few other maintenance tasks. Is the girl alright?”
“Yes. We have the suspect in custody.”
“I will certainly fire him immediately. And I hope you throw the book at him. Is there anything else?”
“We have some reports that Fossil planted beehives planted in various locations around the city. Any thoughts on his motive?”
“I really wouldn’t know, Captain. That’s your department. Right now, we’ve got a city to save from an impending invasion. If you’ll excuse me.” He walked over and sat beside the mayor who was watching the Channel 12 News update with Hester Lynne. There was a US Fish and Wildlife Service Officer with her. Lund choked on the soda that he was sipping.
“So to clarify, what you are saying is that this is a manmade crisis, that this is not an act of Mother Nature,” Hester asked.
“That’s exactly right,” Kelso remarked. “These bees are being triggered to attack people by other circumstances.”
“Who exactly could be behind this?” Hester asked.
“I’m not prepared to go into that right now, but I can say that there are powerful interests who have a motivation in seeing that we do a mass aerial spraying. This will cause a cataclysmic die-off of local bee and pollinator populations. It is not necessary, nor is it safe in any way.”
Gordon Lund turned to the mayor. “Don’t listen to that guy. He has no idea what he’s talking about.”
“He’s a Federal officer who specializes in enmorphology,” the mayor replied.
“Entomology.”
“Yeah, that. He must know what he’s talking about.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure that he represents the views of the USFWS,” Lund said.
On camera, Kelso turned back to Hester. “I would like to show you some evidence that proves the bees were planted in populated centers to cause mass panic,” Kelso replied.
Hester Lynne turned to her viewers. “Stay tuned Angelenos for more on this story coming up!”
***
Kelso sped down Washington Boulevard with the Channel 12 News van and Hester Lynne and Jerry on their tail.
They reached the Costco and pulled into the crowded parking lot. Chris waved from a perch on the roof above the entrance to the big box store. Kelso parked and rushed out of the car, dodging hysterical shoppers with overfull carts of items they really didn’t need for the bee apocalypse: potato chips, ice-cream, candy bars, pork rinds.
Jerry parked the news van and grabbed his camera as Hester climbed out of the van.
Kelso waved Hester towards a ladder around the side of the building near the loading dock. Jerry held back. “I’m going to shoot some B-roll of the hoarders,” he explained.
“Always good to have extra B-roll!” Hester exclaimed. She followed Kelso to the metal ladder that led to the roof.
Hester reluctantly looked up the ladder. “You want me to go up there?”
“That’s where they planted the bee box. You need to see how this was done.”
Hester did a twirl in her red dress and heels. “I’m not exactly dressed for climbing ladders.”
Kelso handed her a beekeeper’s veil and jumpsuit. “Not exactly your size but it will do the trick.”
“How come you’re not wearing a beekeeper’s outfit?”
“Don’t need one,” he replied. “The bees are contained.”
“Then I guess I don’t either,” she handed the jumpsuit back to him, kicked off her shoes and started up the ladder. “Do not look up my dress,” she ordered.
Kelso looked at the ground and waited for her to ascend to the roof. “Okay!” she said, and they clambered up after her.
There above the store entrance, Chris showed off the planted bee box with a timer on the exit valve. “This timer releases the valve which lets the bees escape. At the same time, it sprays a pheromone that makes them extra aggressive.”
“It’s a bee bomb,” Hester said, connecting the dots.
“This is the way these bees have been released all over the city,” Kelso explained.
Hester spotted Jerry behind the lens of his camera, artfully shooting snippets of hysterical shoppers rushing to their cars. “Jerry! Get up here! I want you to film this!” she yelled.
Chapter Twenty
Gordon Lund was a man who did not back down easily. What most people did not realize was that he had been working on the concept of the robobee for some time. He had been pitching it to various investors and venture capitalists as the next big thing, but his pitches had been met with skepticism. “Why do we need robotic pollinators?” was the most frequent refrain. He proceeded to explain that various crops already had to be pollinated by humans, such as certain kinds of vanilla plants, orchids and even date palms. This explanation was shrugged off. “We don’t see the profit center. Those are small growth operations, not major agriculture.”
Lund tried explaining that bees were on the decline – never mentioning that some of the products from his own company might have something to do with it. He attributed the decline to climate change and ecosystem destruction. This reasoning was usually shrugged off by the VCs as so what. So what if the bees die off? We don’t need bees to pollinate all crops. Yeah, a shortage of bees might decimate the orange crops, but there are such small profit margins in citrus that we still don’t see the profit center.
Lund had tried once again to pitch his product as a hive mind solution that might not just be used for pollinating crops, but perhaps other issues, including surveillance and even military uses. “Nah, DARPA has already got that covered. They’ve got plenty of drones,” they said.
So this was Gordon Lund’s final hurrah. This was his P.T. Barnum moment. He had planned this for a long time. He had been raised on those 1970’s disaster movies and the one that had made the biggest impression on him at the time was The Swarm. Yes, it was hokey and overdone and all of those things, but as a kid it had made a big impression on him. He had nightmares after seeing that movie. He had never been afraid to go in the ocean after watching Jaws. But after The Swarm, he was afraid to go anywhere near a tree or a flower with a bee nearby. He just couldn’t bear it. And then he walked barefoot across his patio one Saturday afternoon. There was not a bee in sight except there was one out of sight, dying a slow death on the concrete. He stepped on it unknowingly and got stung for the first time and the only time. His foot swelled up two sizes and he couldn’t walk for several days.
The press room erupted into a chorus of questions. Since Hester Lynne had met the mayor on several occasions, he picked her first. “Mr. Mayor, is this the only option to ensure the safety of city residents?”
“That’s a great question, Hester, and I am glad that you have asked. We think it is our best option to save lives at this point. As I said no one cares more about the environment than I do but we must take steps to protect the lives of our citizens.”
“This pesticide, aerial application, is it toxic for humans?”
“No, there is no need to be concerned about toxicity to humans, although I would suggest that people remain indoors while it is being dispersed throughout the city.”
“Will this pesticide kill other beneficial insects?”
“In this type of situation we must act promptly to save lives. The pesticide is meant to be targeted at these highly aggressive Africanized honeybees but it can also have collateral damage on other insect species.”
“Mr. Mayor, the city honeybee population is already reeling from various unknown causes, for instance, colony collapse disorder and other toxic pesticide exposures. Doesn’t a widespread application like this threaten the entire population of honeybees in our city?”
“I hope not. I don’t think so. We are still not certain what causes colony collapse disorder or whether it has any connection to pesticide exposure but nonetheless we must act. This pestilence stands to curb commerce and daily activity in our city if not dealt with so we must act to preserve human life.”
“But isn’t it possible that the worst is already over and the overly aggressive bees will die off on their own?”
“I have no indication that is the case,” he replied.
“When might this aerial spraying commence?” Hester asked.
“It could being as early as tonight,” the mayor replied. “We will keep you updated. I thank you for your time and please, everyone, be safe out there and exercise all caution.” He stepped away from the podium.
“Mr. Mayor! Mr. Mayor! One last question. If all of the honeybees in the city were to die off, wouldn’t we experience an ecosystem apocalypse? We need pollinators for our citrus crops – what would happen if there were none?”
The mayor stopped and turned to her. “I think we might have a solution to that. But we are taking this one step at a time.”
The newscasters and pundits spent time discussing the mayor’s press conference. Several experts were called in to speculate on what the mayor’s cryptic comment could have meant when he said that they had a solution in the event that the city were to experience a mass pollinator die-off.
Gordon Lund was very happy. This was all going according to plan.
***
Kelso rushed past the news vehicles parked outside the entrance to the EOC. As he went to open the door, he was met by a member of the mayor’s security detail. “I’m sorry you don’t have authorization to enter.”
“I have urgent information in regards to the Africanized bee infestation,” Kelso pleaded.
“You will have to go through the mayor’s office for that, I’m sorry,” the officer replied.
Captain Brader walked out of the building in a huff. “Captain!” Kelso called. He intercepted him halfway to his unit.
Brader clicked his car door open. “What?”
“I think we broke the bee case.”
“Yeah, you definitely did that. I just got my guts handed to me on a platter by the Chief.”
“Sir, this entire episode is a planned, weaponized event to justify the mass spraying of pesticide on the city.”
“What proof do you have of that?”
“I have a team of entomologists currently in the field who can confirm that the flare ups all originated from bee boxes that were planted in strategic locations. They want to make it look like random attacks were happening.”
“Okay. Who planted them?”
“The evidence points to Gordon Lund. He and his company stand to make massive profits.”
“Off the aerial spraying? How is that? He’s donating all of the pesticide.”
“That’s just the beginning, sir. They want to replace the bees.”
“What are you talking about?”
“An electronic pollinator. The weaponized bees are a catalyst to get the ball rolling. First you kill the bees, then you replace them.”
“Did you know your supervisor is looking for you?”
“No, sir.”
“Well, she is. She contacted me. Something about an assault on a fellow officer with a trank gun?”
“That was all a big misunderstanding, sir. I had no time to explain and Lund’s man was demanding the bee prototype as ransom for Duke’s daughter.”
“You both kept me out of the loop of a hostage negotiation?”
“There was no time to explain, sir. I’m sure if it was your daughter you would do the same...”
“She okay?”
Kelso could not begin to explain how relieved he had been to find Beryl relatively unharmed when he arrived at the milking shed. He had wanted to embrace her but she had not exactly welcomed the comfort of his arms. It was to be expected, she would be in a state of emotional shock. But she was alive. Nothing else really mattered. “Yessir. Uniforms are arresting the kidnapper now at the Sage pesticide test farm in east county.”
“Who’s the perp?”
“One of Gordon Lund’s employees. He goes by the name Albert Fossil.”
Brader shook his head. “You stay right here, Bagley.” He locked his car and walked back into the EOC.
Kelso’s phone rang and he picked up. “Chris, what’s happening?”
Chris stood on the roof of a Costco in West Los Angeles. “I’m here at the Costco in West Los Angeles. There’re lines out the door – people are stocking up on supplies!”
“Do you have the bee box?” Kelso asked.
“Yes, I have it.”
“Have you disabled the timer?”
“Not yet. Maybe we should alert these people to clear the area first?”
“That will only cause more panic.”
“What is the timer set for?”
“Two hours from now. They knew people would be stocking up and they timed this to cause maximum collateral damage.”
Kelso was distracted. Hester Lynne faced Jerry’s camera and did a live report. “This is Hester Lynne, live from the mayor’s press conference at the EOC in downtown LA. Remember, I broke this story first and you heard it here: the mayor is seriously considering mass aerial spraying over the city to defeat this killer bee attack...”
This triggered Kelso. “Hold on, Chris.” He marched over to Hester and placed himself in front of her, live on camera.
“I am Officer Kelso Bagley of the United States Fish and Wildlife Service. The bees are not killers.”
“Yes, but they have killed, haven’t they?”
“These particular bees are hybridized for aggressiveness. But this so-called invasion of killer bees is a misnomer. The bees that attacked people were deliberately placed in strategic locations around the city to cause terror.”
“But I thought the eco-terrorist is in jail.”
“We were wrong. It’s not him.”
“You are saying he falsely confessed?”
“That is correct.”
“Then who is behind these bee swarm infestations?”
Kelso had an idea. “I’d like to show you.”
***
The paramedics arrived and checked Duke out. He had three bites, two on his calves and one on his thigh. The paramedic cleansed the area around the wounds and gave Duke an ice pack. They then applied antiseptics. They checked his eyes for any swelling and told him it was unlikely he had contracted Chagas Disease. It was typically spread by scratching around an unclean bite location and creating an open wound. Duke was happy that his mother had instilled in him at an early age not to scratch bug bites. He had heeded her instructions and it had saved him.
Beryl was checked out as well. She was seemingly in good condition for someone who had been through this kind of trauma. The paramedic put some antiseptic cream on her wrist with the rope burns. Remarkably she had no bee stings, and her vital signs were good.
The paramedic put his stethoscope over her heart. “Your heart rate is normal.”
“Thanks.” She smiled weakly.
“Are you okay?” the paramedic asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Beryl replied with a hint of impatience.
“Any fatigue or exhaustion?”
“No.”
“Nausea? Dizziness?”
“None.”
“You have any sense of anxiety or panic?”
“I told you, I’m fine.”
“I get it,” the paramedic said, recognizing her symptom.
“Get what?”
“You’re in denial. It’s one of the first stages post-trauma. Probably feel a little bit numb?”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
“It’s normal. You’ll probably move through some more of the stages. “
“Like what?”
“Your body has pumped a lot of adrenalin in the last few hours. It takes a while to turn that off. It could affect your sleep, your appetite, your sense of safety. Just be patient with yourself. Try to keep to a normal routine and stay busy. The most important thing is to talk about what you experienced. Your dad’s a cop. Cops go through stuff like this. I’m sure he can get you into a support group for trauma survivors if you need it.”
Beryl looked over and watched three uniformed police officers put on PPE. “Thank you.”
The paramedic smiled and packed up his gear.
The jumpsuited PPE cops pulled a limp Albert Fossil from the pit. They hosed him off from afar. The paramedics took a look at him. They determined he did not have any broken bones or other major injuries. Two police officers brought him to his feet and walked him towards a patrol vehicle. Beryl stared him in the eye as he walked past. Duke lunged for him. But another officer pulled him back.
Fossil and his escorts arrived at a waiting patrol car and they read him his rights.
“We’ll see you downtown,” Duke called out as Fossil was loaded into the back seat.
***
Inside the EOC, the mayor was not monitoring incoming police reports of bee sightings and injuries sustained as a result of infestations. He was not making plans to visit the injured and console them. He was not making sure there were adequate supplies of epi-pens readily available to treat people allergic to bee stings. He instead flipped through the local TV channels. He was much more interested in the coverage for his press conference. He wanted to be perceived as a bold, brave leader in a time of crisis. That was the most important thing.
The EOC lounge had a vending machine which dispensed soft drinks and Red Bull. Gordon Lund plinked his change into the machine and grabbed a can. He rose to see Captain Brader right behind him.
“Mr. Lund, I’m Captain Brader of the Robbery Homicide Division.”
“How can I help you?”
“My detectives are headed out to your farm test facility in the city of Industry.”
“Really? Why?”
“One of your employees, a man named Albert Fossil, kidnapped a young woman. She is the daughter of one of my detectives.”
“I’ve heard the name. Never had much interaction with him.”
“He used bees to terrorize this young woman.”
“I’m terribly sorry, Captain. I know we keep bees at the test farm, just like any agricultural operation does. I had no idea this Fossil was a psychopath.”
“Why did you employ him?”
“He cultivates the bees at the test farm and performs a few other maintenance tasks. Is the girl alright?”
“Yes. We have the suspect in custody.”
“I will certainly fire him immediately. And I hope you throw the book at him. Is there anything else?”
“We have some reports that Fossil planted beehives planted in various locations around the city. Any thoughts on his motive?”
“I really wouldn’t know, Captain. That’s your department. Right now, we’ve got a city to save from an impending invasion. If you’ll excuse me.” He walked over and sat beside the mayor who was watching the Channel 12 News update with Hester Lynne. There was a US Fish and Wildlife Service Officer with her. Lund choked on the soda that he was sipping.
“So to clarify, what you are saying is that this is a manmade crisis, that this is not an act of Mother Nature,” Hester asked.
“That’s exactly right,” Kelso remarked. “These bees are being triggered to attack people by other circumstances.”
“Who exactly could be behind this?” Hester asked.
“I’m not prepared to go into that right now, but I can say that there are powerful interests who have a motivation in seeing that we do a mass aerial spraying. This will cause a cataclysmic die-off of local bee and pollinator populations. It is not necessary, nor is it safe in any way.”
Gordon Lund turned to the mayor. “Don’t listen to that guy. He has no idea what he’s talking about.”
“He’s a Federal officer who specializes in enmorphology,” the mayor replied.
“Entomology.”
“Yeah, that. He must know what he’s talking about.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure that he represents the views of the USFWS,” Lund said.
On camera, Kelso turned back to Hester. “I would like to show you some evidence that proves the bees were planted in populated centers to cause mass panic,” Kelso replied.
Hester Lynne turned to her viewers. “Stay tuned Angelenos for more on this story coming up!”
***
Kelso sped down Washington Boulevard with the Channel 12 News van and Hester Lynne and Jerry on their tail.
They reached the Costco and pulled into the crowded parking lot. Chris waved from a perch on the roof above the entrance to the big box store. Kelso parked and rushed out of the car, dodging hysterical shoppers with overfull carts of items they really didn’t need for the bee apocalypse: potato chips, ice-cream, candy bars, pork rinds.
Jerry parked the news van and grabbed his camera as Hester climbed out of the van.
Kelso waved Hester towards a ladder around the side of the building near the loading dock. Jerry held back. “I’m going to shoot some B-roll of the hoarders,” he explained.
“Always good to have extra B-roll!” Hester exclaimed. She followed Kelso to the metal ladder that led to the roof.
Hester reluctantly looked up the ladder. “You want me to go up there?”
“That’s where they planted the bee box. You need to see how this was done.”
Hester did a twirl in her red dress and heels. “I’m not exactly dressed for climbing ladders.”
Kelso handed her a beekeeper’s veil and jumpsuit. “Not exactly your size but it will do the trick.”
“How come you’re not wearing a beekeeper’s outfit?”
“Don’t need one,” he replied. “The bees are contained.”
“Then I guess I don’t either,” she handed the jumpsuit back to him, kicked off her shoes and started up the ladder. “Do not look up my dress,” she ordered.
Kelso looked at the ground and waited for her to ascend to the roof. “Okay!” she said, and they clambered up after her.
There above the store entrance, Chris showed off the planted bee box with a timer on the exit valve. “This timer releases the valve which lets the bees escape. At the same time, it sprays a pheromone that makes them extra aggressive.”
“It’s a bee bomb,” Hester said, connecting the dots.
“This is the way these bees have been released all over the city,” Kelso explained.
Hester spotted Jerry behind the lens of his camera, artfully shooting snippets of hysterical shoppers rushing to their cars. “Jerry! Get up here! I want you to film this!” she yelled.
Chapter Twenty
Gordon Lund was a man who did not back down easily. What most people did not realize was that he had been working on the concept of the robobee for some time. He had been pitching it to various investors and venture capitalists as the next big thing, but his pitches had been met with skepticism. “Why do we need robotic pollinators?” was the most frequent refrain. He proceeded to explain that various crops already had to be pollinated by humans, such as certain kinds of vanilla plants, orchids and even date palms. This explanation was shrugged off. “We don’t see the profit center. Those are small growth operations, not major agriculture.”
Lund tried explaining that bees were on the decline – never mentioning that some of the products from his own company might have something to do with it. He attributed the decline to climate change and ecosystem destruction. This reasoning was usually shrugged off by the VCs as so what. So what if the bees die off? We don’t need bees to pollinate all crops. Yeah, a shortage of bees might decimate the orange crops, but there are such small profit margins in citrus that we still don’t see the profit center.
Lund had tried once again to pitch his product as a hive mind solution that might not just be used for pollinating crops, but perhaps other issues, including surveillance and even military uses. “Nah, DARPA has already got that covered. They’ve got plenty of drones,” they said.
So this was Gordon Lund’s final hurrah. This was his P.T. Barnum moment. He had planned this for a long time. He had been raised on those 1970’s disaster movies and the one that had made the biggest impression on him at the time was The Swarm. Yes, it was hokey and overdone and all of those things, but as a kid it had made a big impression on him. He had nightmares after seeing that movie. He had never been afraid to go in the ocean after watching Jaws. But after The Swarm, he was afraid to go anywhere near a tree or a flower with a bee nearby. He just couldn’t bear it. And then he walked barefoot across his patio one Saturday afternoon. There was not a bee in sight except there was one out of sight, dying a slow death on the concrete. He stepped on it unknowingly and got stung for the first time and the only time. His foot swelled up two sizes and he couldn’t walk for several days.
