Page 5 of Bad Beehavior

“Sounds good. I'll take it as good news if I don’t hear from you for a while.” We both know that it could take months until I find the perfect specimen. Unless it's paramount, we don’t want to muddy our signal with back-and-forth contact.

“Over and out,” I say before directing my attention toward the creatures below me.

I’ve been flying high above them, observing from a far enough vantage point until I’m ready to get closer. I dive down, now over the tops of the creatures’ heads.

Every time we discover a new life form exists, it’s a marvel. The Zolabobes on plant XYT that we made contact with for the first time several seasons ago were just blobs of matter that communicated through vibrations—nothing like us in the Colony. These creatures are much different from our own, but I can tell why we can repopulate together.

They look similar to us in our large form. The only big differences are their skin color, lack of fuzz, and missing wings and antennas.

Repopulation isn’t the intoxicating act that it is for the creatures on planet Forphia. Those creatures seem to revolve their whole lives around their reproduction act, which seemsmessy and time-consuming. We learned about their customs at the Academy. Some of them were similar to our own, like inserting their version of our stinger into the opening of the female and thrusting back and forth until they ejaculate inside of the female, but there’s so much more involved than their final act. They use their mouths and what we would consider fingers to get each of their partners into an intoxicating state before completion. Maybe their obsession with this custom is why the Forphia aren’t dealing with underpopulation issues like ours.

As a pupa, it was hard to deny the feelings that swirled around in my stomach while learning about the Forphia people’s mating rituals, as much as it disgusted me to feel that way. I tried to block them out, and I’d done a damn good job forgetting them until now—wondering if these Blue Planet creatures mate similarly.

I’m amazed at how many creatures there are on this little Blue Planet. They seem to have no issue repopulating, which makes me wonder why their planet’s ecosystem is doing so poorly. Maybe they have too many and don’t know how to use renewable resources. This is another reason they need us as much as we need them.

Smells come from all around me. Some of them are horrible, coming from containers that seem to be full of debris. Others smell of delicious food or from plants living sparsely around the industrial jungle. One smell seems more powerful than the rest, grabbing my attention and sending me on a mission to find its source.

I find a plant-filled square of the city. No motorized vessels drive through the patches of earth, and large plants shade the area. The sweet-smelling plants are more prevalent here, and as I get closer, I notice the creatures native to this planet that look much like myself. These creatures land on the plants, sending a long tongue into their brightly colored flaps. It’s evident thatthese creatures have some equally beneficial relationship with the plants around them, much like we plan to do with the two-legged creatures that walk around me.

The smell I’m after strengthens, and I’m brought back to my mission of finding the source. I fly through the square, dodging the creatures that lounge on the green earth or walk hand in hand with no real sense of purpose.

I’m finally brought to a short building at the edge of the wash of green. The creatures walk in and out of the building, coming in empty-handed and leaving with a tray or bag of food. Tables surround the outside of the building, and the creatures sit at them, eating and drinking while talking to someone across from them.

I focus on the strong source, coming from a female and male. The female uses a utensil to eat various plants in a bowl—the male bites into some starchy and meaty square. I’m not sure if the females and males are so different here, but the female eats with more grace—wiping her mouth between bites and not revealing her chewed contents. The male doesn’t hold the same etiquette—chomping on his meal as small morsels fall out of his mouth, and he yaps wildly.

The smell is coming from the woman—so intoxicating that I’m dizzy. I tap my antenna, wondering if this could be my instincts kicking in and already identifying the perfect female specimen. I fly closer to get a read on her. It only takes a moment before the reading comes back. She’s not a perfect specimen. My sensors don’t indicate a specific reason why, but there seems to be something wrong with her reproductive system. It must be an issue our researchers don’t have a name for.

I can’t understand why I’m so drawn to her. I don’t notice myself inching closer and closer until I’m resting on the table next to her meal, staring up at her round brown eyes. Her brown hair rests at her shoulders, and although it seems similar tothe other females around her, the way it catches in the wind intoxicates me, making her smell even more prevalent.

I’m unfamiliar with these species' facial expressions, but they don’t seem too dissimilar from our own. She appears uninterested in the man sitting across from her, resting her head in her hand as she moves around her meal's contents with her utensil.

She fascinates me in a way that makes me more than eager to learn about her kind, in a way that sends my stomach into knots.

Whatever power this creature holds over me must be dangerous because I don’t even pay attention to my surroundings. Several moments pass, just staring up at her before a yell breaks me from my trance.

The male sitting across from her screams, “A bee!”

I’m unfamiliar with the word, but before I can react, a large object comes crashing from above, knocking me out.

Chapter 4: Jennessa

“No, Kent! Stop!” I grab the rolled-up newspaper from Kent’s grasp just as he’s about to smash the bee a second time. “Don’t kill it!”

He gives me a scrunched-face look. “It’s a bee, Jennessa. You know I’m allergic.”

“Okay, well, it doesn’t mean your life is more valuable than his. Bees pollinate the flowers, which are scarce here in New York. We need them.” I lower my head to get a better look at the guy and breathe out once I realize it’s twitching even though its littlewing is bent and at an odd angle. I dump the contents of my to-go cup and gently scoop the bee inside.

“What are you doing?” Kent asks disgustedly.

“I’m going to bring it home and save it.” I haven’t always been the type to go out of my way to save insects, but it’s been a shitty week, and the more I look at this pathetic insect, the more I feel a kinship with it. I want someone to rescue me from despair, much like I’m doing with this bee. Besides, this guy helps keep my business running. It’s the least I can do for his service.

I snap my attention back to Kent once I realize he hasn’t said anything in a while.

He stares at me incredulously, shaking his head. “I really think you’re starting to lose it.”

I click my tongue in disgust. “Oh, shut up.” I get up from my seat, grab my satchel, clutching my bee to-go cup, and walk away from the table.

Kent follows after me. “Jennessa, I’m worried about you. You just said that my life was as important as a bee’s, and now you’re carrying around a dead insect.”

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