Page 2 of The Hive

Chapter Two

Saphyra

The sound of my sleeping pod’s security latch unlocking woke me from a fitful sleep. Vague memories prodded at my unsettling dreams, taunting and teasing, just out of reach in the dark corners of my mind. I blinked them away and scraped the tangled spiderweb of golden hair from my face. There was no time to dawdle if I hoped to make morning meal.

Every day since the keepers moved me out of the nursery and into the girls’ dorm, my life had been the same. Wake up, eat breakfast, go to classes, eat dinner, then back to the dorms and the safety of the sleeping enclosure. Eight years of planned activity and discipline, but there was something shifting. I could feel myself changing.

I pushed the milky white dome up and crawled out of my tangled sheets. The scent of the other girls itched my nose as more pods around the room popped open. I couldn’t help but mourn the empty and reassigned beds where my old friends had once slept. One by one, they had been allocated to their assignments, but here I was, nearly alone in a sea of youthful faces I didn’t know. Nearly, but not completely.

Familiar violet eyes peered out from behind the half-opened lid of the pod beside me. Lyrah pushed her lid open and climbed out, smiling. “Good morning, Saphyra. Don’t look so glum. It’s going to be a beautiful day.”

I never understood how she could be so cheerful, regardless of the hour or circumstance. Not a morning person myself, I did my best to return her smile without cringing at her chipper greeting. I’d have much preferred to crawl back into my blankets, pull the lid closed over me, and lock the new day out.

Undiluted sunlight slanted through the clear domed roof, illuminating the dorm as the Hive rotated to give the impression of sunrise. Sensations chafed at me from every side. The rustle of the other girls, their irritating and ever-growing scents, and the twin suns cresting the edge of the station, pouring light like liquid fire into my eyes. But I pushed my aggravation away and focused on my friend.

“Good morning, Lyrah,” I replied with as much enthusiasm as I could muster before giving a strand of her lilac hair a playful tug.

She waved me off. “You shouldn’t do that. It’s a bad habit, giving everyone nicknames. You’ll get punished if they catch you calling us by a name and not by designation again.”

I ignored her warning, just like I did every time she reminded me, and gave her a sour look on my way to the storage cubbies. I hated the student designations and I hated that only omega prospects and the Altairan staff had names. The keepers relegated the Hive residents to recycled numbers and barcodes, but I knew in the back of my mind that it wasn’t like this everywhere. There were places where everyone had names and weren’t just numbers.

The early hour was not the only reason for my bad mood. It was the dawning of another allocation day. For most, allocation was a joyous event signifying the graduation of our classmates and the start of their adult lives on the surface of Altaira. But I had a feeling today would be the last time I’d spend the morning with my sweet, lilac-haired friend. Without her, I truly would be alone, surrounded by strangers. Even Zillarah’s spiteful silver eyes would be a reprieve, but the keepers had moved her out of the girls’ dorms in an attempt to speed her emergence along. After they took Zillarah, Lyrah and I were the oldest girls left in the dorm, at eighteen. It was past time for us to receive our assignments and to begin life in service to the Imperatrix.

“Come on, slowpoke!” She bounced on her toes, waiting for me to finish.

The frigid metal floor chilled my feet as I pulled off my plain black pajamas, shoved them down the laundry chute, and grabbed a clean uniform from the cubby against the wall. By the time I buttoned up the black pleated skirt of my omega prospect uniform, my toes were ice cubes. I rushed to pull on my socks and low-heeled shoes while Lyrah waited for me, laughing as I hopped foot to foot in mild distress.

“I think they keep the floors cold so we get ready faster,” I said, grateful to have the buffer between my feet and the hard metal.

I didn’t understand how Lyrah could be so optimistic when her fate was uncertain. My whole life I’d been told I would stay here on the Hive, in the Brood Chamber with the other omegas, but Lyrah’s blood tests were inconclusive. She had avoided a surface assignment so far because the keepers hoped she would emerge as an omega, but their patience was running thin for the both of us. We would both be given assignments soon.

My blood tests sealed my fate, stating definitively that I was an omega. I still hadn’t emerged, and I was behind schedule. The keepers wouldn’t wait much longer before they took matters into their own hands. On the other hand, after so long with none of the conclusive markers in her blood or physical indicators, Lyrah was likely a beta and past due for her surface assignment.

“Hurry,” Lyrah said, tugging my hand and dragging me behind her. “I don’t want to miss breakfast.”

She made a good point. All the best food and decent seats would be gone if we didn’t hurry. We rushed through our morning routine, jostling past the younger girls in our haste to get in and out of the communal bathroom as quickly as possible.

The chittering and giggling grated on my nerves as I quickly brushed my teeth and ran a comb through my hair. It was no fault of the others that I was on edge. My omega classification was intensifying all my senses, and I worried about this afternoon. Today, the betas that had come of age since the last allocation would receive their surface assignments, sending them on their way to Altaira. My best friend was out of time.

Through breakfast, Lyrah’s musical voice and cheery attitude lifted my spirits. Even with the impending ceremony looming, it was difficult to be unhappy with her around. By the time we made it to the arboretum—where our first class of the day was—her infectious smile and vibrant conversation had swept my trepidations aside.

She skipped through the double sliding airlocks into the humid air and waved to the professor sitting at her desk. I gave our glaring teacher a smile and picked up two canisters of recycled water. One for myself and one for Lyrah, who had gone on ahead.

“The orange blossoms smell so nice,” she called over her shoulder as I trailed behind, lugging the containers. “It’s a pity we can’t weave them into garlands and wear them like crowns. Wouldn’t the headmaster be mad then?” she said, laughing as she spun through the rows of potted fruit trees. A shadow of fear danced through her eyes despite the levity of her words. We both knew the dangers of pissing off Headmaster Vestris, and neither of us wanted to risk his attention.

“Ah, but if we did that, we would have even fewer oranges left to eat,” I said as I measured out a portion of recycled water and dumped it into the pot beside me.

I watched with a smile as Lyrah danced past the orange trees and into the rows of apple trees. Some of my classes were fun, but her presence made them better. It would be hard if she left today, but I wouldn’t have to worry about that for much longer. Whatever happened, we’d both be allocated soon and live the lives that had been planned for us by the empire. I just hoped one day I would find her and we could be together again.

Chapter Three

Saphyra

A cheer went up in the hexagonal amphitheater, echoing off the domed glass ceiling. I skulked in a shadowed corner, hiding my less than enthusiastic reaction to today’s festivities. The allocation ceremony was underway on the Hive, and another contingent of my classmates were being selected to serve the glorious Imperatrix and her grand empire.

Much to the excitement of the recipients, Headmaster Vestris called upon individuals to join him on the stage, where he announced their assignments and handed out vouchers as if they were priceless gems. After a lifetime of anticipation, emotions ran high. With these certificates, the betas could start their lives on the planet below. Giddy shrieks and cheering grated against my senses as the gold tickets that secured seats on the transport ships were distributed.

I knew I’d be punished if I was caught being uninterested, but it was difficult to cheer as the pink-haired beta I’d nicknamed Flora—who was actually known as Designation 9691—was allocated to the surface as a statistical analyst. After spending several semesters with the bratty beta, I knew she was in no way qualified for the position. At seventeen, her aptitude for mathematics was rudimentary at best. I felt bad for whoever she ended up working for.

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