Page 3 of The Hive

This was not the first time an assignment had surprised me, but the recipients seemed happy with any post if it meant starting their adult life in the decadent society we’d learned about on the Hive. It was the ultimate reward for good behavior after graduation. The promise that kept everyone in line.

When Lyrah’s designation was called, my stomach sank. I could see her lilac hair peeking between the gathered crowd as she made her way across the stage to the headmaster. Before now, I hadn’t been overly concerned with the strangeness of allocation day, but this time my best friend was getting her surface assignment. That brought all of my past curiosities to the forefront.

“Congratulations, Designation 37318.” The headmaster handed Lyrah a gold-colored envelope. “Based on your aptitude and skills tests, you have been allocated to the arts and culture center in the capital.”

A deafening cheer rose from the audience, but her smile looked more like a grimace. We both expected to get jobs involving numbers, assuming my long-awaited omega status fell through, and here she was allocated to an arts and culture center. Her expression shifted into a fake smile. I could see right through it, but I knew she did it to avoid being disciplined. I tried to be happy for her. Anything would be better than the Hive, even if it was an odd assignment.

I rushed through the crowd, pushing past the silver-haired omega prospect, Zillarah, and her recently appointed decoys. She gave me a grumpy growl and snuggled into the protective embrace of the two young alphas she’d been assigned to encourage her latent classification to emerge. I tried to ignore their rich pheromones, but a shiver shot through me at their nearness. Zillarah’s fruity scent tempered my reaction to the males and my nose wrinkled in distaste. To save us both the discomfort, I rushed past, certain she was having a similar response to my proximity.

Bumping through the throng, I reached the gathered graduates waiting to board the ships destined for their future. Lyrah’s lavender gaze searched the crowd frantically and once she found me, she hurried over.

“Saphyra, you were right! Something is definitely wrong. Maybe they swapped 9691‘s assignment with mine?”

I elbowed through the press of bodies to get closer to my friend. “Let me see your allocation voucher,” I said, and held out a hand.

Through the jostle of bodies, she passed me the sheet of parchment and a golden metal plate with her designation number and the letters ACC stamped into it. “A.C.C.? That must stand for Arts and Culture Center, right?”

Too many beta classmates had left, never to be seen again, for me not to wonder where they’d gone. I’d watched too many of the black and gold transports depart through the translucent crystal ceilings of the Hive to not wonder why they didn’t head toward the surface of the planet below. Most often they would turn toward the system’s interior, and we’d never see them again. Alphas would return from deployment, but betas never did. It was enough to make anyone paying attention suspicious.

“That must be it. Anywhere is better than here, but I hate leaving you in this place,” Lyrah said, shooting a venomous glance at Headmaster Vestris. “Maybe I can smuggle you out in my luggage? You are probably small enough to fit.” I knew she was trying to lighten the heavy weight of loss settling in my chest, reminding me why she was my best friend.

More than anything else, I loved my friend and wanted her to be happy. The Hive was not a kind place, and betas had it hardest. Lyrah never told me what happened when she was assigned punishment, but the haunted look in her eyes around certain keepers gave me a decent idea. Omega prospects were handled more carefully than the other Hive residents, but discipline was never pleasant.

I had considered Lyrah’s allocation as an escape from the potential torture she lived through. But now, looking at the stamped metal tag, I had a bad feeling. My apprehension regarding the assignments of the graduating students rose, but there was nothing I could do to change the outcome, so I did the only thing I could. I wrapped my arms around Lyrah and hugged her.

“When my omega status falls through, I’ll come find you on the surface and you can show me all the sights. It won’t be long until they lose patience with me,” I said, holding her close to cover the tears welling in my eyes.

“Don’t be silly,” she said, sniffling back a sob. “You are going to be the most beautiful omega there ever was. You’ll have all the chocolate and honey you can eat.”

I didn’t want this moment to end because when it did, Lyrah would be leaving, and I didn’t know if I would ever see her again.

Just as I was pulling myself together, a body slammed into my back. I swung around to snarl at the intrusion. The wide, silvery eyes of my fellow omega prospect, Zillarah, omega prospect 4459, blinked back at me.

“Oopsy, I guess I was distracted by my new decoys. Have you met?” She gave me a sickeningly sweet smile as sharp as a razor blade. I guessed this was revenge for bumping into her earlier.

Zillarah’s smug grin proved she knew what she had interrupted and didn’t care. She thought her decoy assignment and fancy silk dresses made her special in some way, and maybe it did. Omegas were treated as royalty once they emerged, and being assigned decoys meant her keepers were trying to hurry her toward that fate.

She had no interest in introducing her alpha soldiers. She only wanted to show off these men that she considered status symbols. Unfortunately for me, we were the same age, and her emergence was running behind schedule too. That didn’t bode well for my chances of being left alone much longer.

When an omega prospect didn’t make substantial progress toward emergence by age eighteen, the handlers would encourage more rapid results by introducing decoys, alphas whose pheromones would trigger an omega’s first heat cycle. Decoy assignment had proven significantly more successful and safer than the other option: hormone injections.

“No, we’ve not been introduced,” Lyrah said, saving me from my thoughts. “I’m Designation 37318 and this is Saphyra, Omega Prospect 1571. It’s nice to meet you.”

She always had better manners than I did, and I was glad she saved me from having to answer. Being near Zillarah’s arrogant grin made me want to hiss and scratch her eyes out. My handler, Greylan, assured me that my reaction to other unmated omegas was perfectly normal and that it would only get worse until I emerged. Even then, I would need to be bred before I was expected to be civil again. Some instinct about vying for the most desirable provider. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about competing when my time came. The keepers chose all of our prospective mates based on genetic markers recorded and filed in the Hive’s database.

These decoys were a genetic match for Zillarah, not for me. She had no real reason to be territorial, but it was instinct. She couldn’t help it. Soldiers would usually not be allowed to mate an omega, anyway. Only drones selected for that purpose. However, when assigning decoys, just in case insemination did occur, the handlers assigned the best possible genetic match to ensure healthy offspring. The keepers didn’t take chances with that sort of thing.

Zillarah’s silvery blue eyes crinkled at the edge, surely knowing how this interaction affected me. “This is Soldier 7115 and Soldier 2192. They will be my entourage until I emerge as an omega. I’m so lucky to have been deemed worthy of the additional support of two decoys to see me through my journey. My new cabin is just gorgeous. I have an actual nest, not a pod, with a private bathroom, and a walk-in closet. It’s better than I ever could have imagined.” Her lips pulled up in an insincere smile. “But don’t worry, 1571, I’m sure you will emerge someday.” The insult was clear. She knew how rude it was to ignore an omega prospect’s gifted name. “Oh look, the betas’ transport is ready. Best go see them off. Ta-ta for now.” Without waiting for a reply, she turned and floated down the corridor with her two brooding companions following on her heels.

“I certainly won’t miss her when I get to the surface.” Lyrah laughed, rolling her eyes. She threw an arm around my shoulders and we made our way to the transport bay.

I couldn’t waste more time worrying about Zillarah, not when Lyrah was moments from leaving. So, I threaded my arm around her waist and squeezed her tight. “I’m going to miss you. You’ll be having all the fun and I’ll be assigned to some stupid drone. At least you’ll get a choice, maybe even fall in love. I’ll have to live vicariously through you.”

“I’m sure it won’t be so bad. Greylan would never let them assign you to some stuffy old drone. He will find you the perfect one, or maybe he’ll keep you for himself.” She waggled her eyebrows, whispering, barely able to contain her giggles. We had spent many an hour swooning over my handsome, gray-eyed handler. The station wouldn’t be the same without her, but she would be safer on the surface, away from the questionable discipline of the staff on the Hive.

My chest tightened with a mixture of joy and pain, hoping my friend would have a better life, yet not knowing what I would do without her. I was worried, but did my best to remember she had a whole new world to look forward to, out from under the eye of the lecherous keepers.

The newly allocated betas were lined up and heading to the transport ships. I gave Lyrah one last hug and waved her off. She skipped to her line and waved back, smiling at me as she made her way onto the ship. I couldn’t blame her. The Hive was more like a gold-plated prison than a school, and the staff were our prison guards. I needed to stop worrying so much. Lyrah was finally free to find real happiness.

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