The Hive

by Orson Scott Card

  “My appointment was always intended to be temporary,” said Father. “Now that the Hegemony Congress is established, now that the Council is in place and writing legislation, the house is established. My work is done. I was given this office because the world needed to build a fleet. Who better to give it to them than me? I’ve done that. It’s time for someone better suited for wartime leadership to take this role.”

  Lem kept his expression flat. “I see. Well, that is noble of you, Father, to recognize the limitations of your own abilities. Such humility will certainly be part of your legacy. I wonder if we might speak in private.”

  Ukko Jukes dismissed his security detail, and the armed men stepped from the room.

  “Let’s stop the charade, Father,” said Lem. “What’s the play here? You wouldn’t forfeit a seat of power unless there was a bigger seat elsewhere.”

  “What could be bigger than the Hegemon?”

  “Spare me, Father. I know you. What am I not seeing?”

  “I’m doing what must be done, Lem. Even if we win this war with the Formics, which is unlikely, I’m not sure we will win the war that follows. My leaving the Hegemony will hopefully prevent that war from happening. Or at the very least, minimize the fallout and casualties.”

  “What war?” said Lem. “A war with Russia?”

  “A war with everyone, Lem. A world war. Unlike any war we’ve seen before because the actors will have IF weapons from space that can send us back to the Stone Age. This should be obvious. This war is already brewing. It will be a conflict between those nations that wish to see us continue under Hegemony rule and those nations that will insist on a return of full national sovereignty. Consider the United States. They’ve seen their position of power and influence in the world diminish under Hegemony rule. While at the same time, second- and third-world nations have grown in strength and prominence. Brazil, Mexico, India, Egypt. We have the war to thank for that, a global economic and technological boom. The strong have remained strong, but now the traditionally weak are gaining in strength as well. The United States doesn’t particularly like progress that isn’t their own. If anyone should be in charge, they say, it’s us. Do you know how much it irks the Americans that the Hegemon of Earth is a Finn? It’s a great injustice to them.”

  “You’re a man of Luna,” said Lem. “A man without a nation. That’s why you were appointed.”

  “Finnish by birth and thus a Finn in the eyes of my critics. No one wants to see a Finn in charge, Lem. Especially not the Americans.”

  “The Americans have a seat in Congress and in the Council,” said Lem. “They have far more power in the Hegemony than most nations.”

  “True,” said Father. “But they aren’t the king of the hill. A damn Finn is. Imagine their horror if a Russian became Hegemon.”

  “Like Sokolov,” said Lem.

  “Yes,” said Father, “like Sokolov. Or some other autocrat like him. Because even if we were to dispose of Sokolov, there are ten thousand just like him who would rise up and take his place. And if such a man were to seize the office of Hegemon, it would be disastrous for the U.S. and Canada and all of Europe. I can’t let that happen.”

  “But again,” said Lem, “if you resign, isn’t that the opportunity that Sokolov and the Russians want?”

  “Sokolov doesn’t have a prayer of being chosen by the Council,” said Father. “I have the Council’s assurance on that.”

  “Are you sure?” said Lem. “Sokolov isn’t an idiot. He wouldn’t be secretly campaigning for the post if he didn’t think it attainable.”

  “Sokolov is an idiot, which is why I was so terribly disappointed to see him humiliate you in public. Really, Lem, you should have known better. Neither he nor his deputy ministers should have been in that room. We keep our enemies close, but not that close.”

  “So this vote by the Council is a sham,” said Lem. “You know who the Council will choose because you’ve secretly made it a stipulation of your resignation. They have to choose your man or you’re not leaving.”

  “What makes you think it’s a man?” said Father.

  “A woman?” said Lem. “Who?”

  “Sharon Solomon.”

  “The American president?”

  “She’ll resign as president to accept the role of Hegemon once she’s chosen. I thought she’d be the obvious choice. An American, Jewish, and a former U.S. marine. Terminal rank: major. So she has military cred, not to mention an impeccable record as a former U.S. senator. Plus she has broad support across Europe, East Asia, and much of South America. Africa and the Middle East are problematic, as is Russia, but that would be the case with any American.”

  “Sokolov will hate the idea,” said Lem.

  “The Americans won’t,” said Father. “It would restore their standing as the leader of the free world. Plus, they’re the largest financial contributor to the Hegemony and thus the country most invested in seeing it succeed. Most importantly, with an American as Hegemon, they’ll be more likely to keep and maintain a global coalition of support for the Hegemony. That coalition is crucial. If alliances break down, war results.”

  “And you think Solomon has a better chance of preventing war than you do?” said Lem.

  “She’s a seasoned diplomat. Respected among world leaders. I’m an outsider. A businessman, brash and inflexible. As far as diplomats are concerned, I’m oil to their water. The alliance within the Hegemony exists because of the united effort to defeat the Formics. Not because of me. The instant the Formics are out of the picture, it will be a power scramble. And besides, once this war is over, I’ll be needed elsewhere.”

  “Where exactly?”

  “We can’t allow the Formics to return a third time,” said Father. “If there’s a third invasion, it must be us invading them, destroying them on their home planet, ensuring that they never threaten us again.”

  Lem scoffed. “Us go to the Formics? Father, we don’t have the tech for interstellar flight. We’re not even remotely close to their speeds and firepower. We barely have a fleet as is. We’re getting our asses kicked in the Belt. Plus, we don’t even know where the Formics come from. How could we possibly stage an invasion?”

  Ukko Jukes leaned back in his chair and regarded Lem with a look of disappointment. “I gave you several years with the company, Lem. I left you with capable people. Some of the brightest minds in the world. My hope was that you would somehow develop vision, that you would break out of that finite way of thinking you’ve developed. That you would think and act like a CEO. In some ways you’ve done well. You’ve grown the company. You’ve built much of the fleet. But for all those successes, you still lack vision. There will be a third invasion, Lem. It will require a different fleet, one built for interstellar travel, with weapons of mass destruction the likes of which the world has never seen. Weapons that can wipe out an advanced civilization like the Formics. We haven’t developed that tech yet. It will likely take decades before we do. But it won’t happen if military contractors don’t have vision, if they can’t do what simple minds consider impossible.”

  It took a moment to realize what Father was saying. Then it all became clear. All of Father’s planning, all of the political maneuvers. “You’re taking back the company,” Lem said. “You’re leaving the Hegemony to oust me as CEO.”

  “You’ve made yourself a laughingstock, Lem. You allowed Sokolov, a half-witted toad of a man, to humiliate you before the world. You brought foolish designs to the Hegemony and lost on contracts that we should have easily won. You invested millions of credits in a charity that is leaking capital like a sieve and wasting our resources.”

  “Our resources?” said Lem. “The company is no longer yours, Father. You sold your stake. You have no say in whatever path the company pursues.”

  “It’s already in motion, Lem. Solomon will see to it that Juke Limited will build the new fleet for the third invasion. That will guarantee the company’s growth and prosperity for decades to come.”<
br />
  Lem was on his feet. “You made a deal with Sharon Solomon? You give her the office of Hegemon, and she gives you all the wealth in the world?”

  “You will continue as a member of the board,” said Father. “I’m not throwing you out. This isn’t a coup. You’ll graciously welcome me back as CEO once I leave the Hegemony. Global confidence in the company will be restored, and we’ll go about saving the world together. That is, assuming we don’t lose this war and all die anyway.”

  Lem shook his head. “Unbelievable. You think that’s how this works, Father? Is that what the Hegemony has taught you? That you can simply make demands and have everyone around you rush to make it so? I have made the company what it is. We have grown more in three years than any other corporation in the history of the world.”

  “Yes, with contracts that the Hegemony awarded you,” said Father. “My administration has built the company as much as you have, Lem. If not more so. Without me, you would be nothing. And without me in the company now, you are nothing as well.”

  “I’m the CEO, Father.”

  “Are you sure about that, Lem?”

  Lem froze. The rest of Father’s plan unfolded before him like a giant map. Father had brought Lem out to this secluded facility, forced him to take transportation Lem didn’t control. Lem was trapped here, locked here. He couldn’t rush back to company headquarters even if he wanted to.

  “The board just finished their emergency meeting,” said Father. “I received the message from Norja Ramdakan before I came in here. You’ve been removed as CEO. None of that will be made public, of course. Once I make the announcement concerning my departure from the Hegemony, you’ll give a press conference wherein you’ll announce that you informed the board that you wish to voluntarily step aside so that I might return to lead the company. A gracious move the board will accept. You’ll make the announcement joyfully, as nothing makes you happier than to have your father back where he belongs. Your speech at the press conference will be stipulated in the contract the legal team is now preparing. And before you storm out of here and resign in a fury, consider your future, Lem. This way, my way, is best for you. It allows you to save face and your stake in the company. You deserve that.”

  Lem said nothing.

  “Or there’s another option,” said Father. “You could accept a gracious buyout offer from me and retire with more money than most people could ever dream of. You’d never have to see me again, which I know is an attractive proposition. You could buy an island somewhere, find a wife. I only ask that you don’t pursue this Buddhist woman. You can do better than that.”

  Lem left without another word. He passed the security detail out in the corridor and wondered if Father had brought them along in case Lem tried something when Father revealed his plan. What a headline that would be: DISGRACED CEO STRANGLES HEGEMON IN SECRET LUNAR BUNKER.

  The corridors were still empty. No one tried to stop him. Lem found his way back to the platform, but of course the tube car was gone. Father had no doubt arranged that as well. Lem looked around for a control box, something that might hold a switch, a button, a lever, some means to call the car back. There wasn’t one. The platform was empty.

  Lem moved to the edge of the platform and considered the track. Could he walk back? Was there enough room beside the track for him to fit between the tunnel wall and the tube car? Or would the tube car crush him if it came? And even if he could walk, would he know the way? He was more likely to get lost in the dark.

  “Mr. Jukes?”

  Lem turned around. One of the marines who had been standing at attention had removed his helmet and come up behind him. “Can I be of service, sir?” the marine asked. “You look like you’re considering walking that track. That’s not a good idea, sir.”

  Lem kept his rage in check and calmly asked for the car. The marine called it back easily by tapping a command on his wrist pad. It arrived a few minutes later. Lem asked how to program the car to return to the docking tower, and the marine typed in the command.

  “It’s strange that no one escorted you out, sir,” said the marine. “Your father’s aides normally do that with visitors. Sorry about the mix-up.”

  “There was no mix-up,” said Lem. “Thanks for your help.”

  It took Lem over an hour to get back to his skimmer and fly to corporate headquarters. As the minutes passed and the scene played again and again in his mind, Lem’s anger only intensified. Father had orchestrated the whole thing: the emergency meeting of the board when they knew Lem was indisposed, a handshake deal for a second fleet, the arrangement with the American president. Even the company’s lawyers were in on it, drafting Lem’s speech for the press. It was all so … Father. So callously, predictably, deceitfully Father. Lem was angry at himself more than anyone, for being foolish enough to believe for an instant that Father would show genuine concern for him amid all the bad press. Come to the Hegemony, Lem. Let’s strategize, Lem. I’m uneasy about all this, Lem. How had Lem allowed himself to believe it? He should have recognized instantly that Father had something damaging in mind, something cutting, something condescending, some slight. He should have known that Father would cut Lem off at the knees.

  And not only Father, but the board as well. The people Lem had paid handsomely and trusted.

  He could understand betrayal from the longtime board members, the ones Father had put on the board. Their loyalty was to Ukko more than to Lem. Except perhaps for Benyawe. She and Lem had no relationship outside of work, but Lem had considered her a friend. Or loyal, at least. Lem couldn’t believe that she would toss him aside. Not after everything they had endured. Had the board given her false information? Maybe Benyawe hadn’t been invited to the meeting. Maybe they suspected Benyawe would object, and so they had shut her out.

  Lem went straight to the boardroom. It was late in the evening. If there had been an emergency meeting when Father had claimed, everyone would be long gone by now. But he had to see if there was evidence of a meeting. Or perhaps Lem had allies after all, and they had rejected his ouster and were still in the boardroom, debating their next move.

  But if that were true, why hadn’t Lem received any messages on his wrist pad? Warnings, condolences, reassurances, statements of loyalty?

  Lem entered the boardroom. It wasn’t empty. Across the room a white-haired man sat alone at the head of the table where Lem normally sat. Lem didn’t recognize him.

  “Hello, Mr. Jukes. My name is Oliver Crowe.”

  Lem kept his distance, suddenly uneasy. “You’ll forgive me, Mr. Crowe. But I believe you’re sitting in my seat.”

  “It was your seat,” said Crowe. “Two hours ago. I asked my contacts on the board not to send you any formal announcement just yet. I wanted us to talk first. But here, why don’t you sit in this chair for old time’s sake, and I’ll sit somewhere else.” He moved to get up.

  “Keep the seat,” said Lem, not moving.

  Oliver Crowe smiled pleasantly and sat back down. “I was hoping you and I would meet under different circumstances, Lem, but your father has set things in motion now.”

  “Who are you?” said Lem.

  “An ally,” said Crowe. “I’m not a danger to you. You need not be afraid.”

  “Why should I be afraid?” said Lem. “A stranger has somehow bypassed our security and given orders to members of the board that they felt obligated to obey, suggesting leverage, power, and influence. Nothing strange about that at all.”

  Crowe smiled again, nonthreateningly, almost cheerily. “You won’t take this as a compliment, Lem, but I do intend it as one: You’re very much like your father. Not just in physical features, of course. But in temperament. You’re not as taciturn, not as unyielding, but you still have that Jukes fire about you. Which I find admirable.”

  The man was playing with him. Dancing around the questions. Lem was tempted to call security, but curiosity won out.

  “You know my father?” said Lem.

  Crowe laughed goo
d-naturedly. “Goodness, I’ve known Ukko Jukes for longer than you’ve been alive. We fell out of contact, as acquaintances sometimes do. He went his way. I went mine. But I watched him closely over the years. Now the war has brought us together once again. I’m the director of ASH, the intelligence arm of the Hegemony. I report to your father.”

  “So members of my board are agents of ASH?” Lem said. “I’d ask you to tell me their names so I might take appropriate action, but I doubt you’ll do so.”

  “If I told you all our secrets, Lem, we wouldn’t be very good at intelligence, would we?”

  “What do you want?” Lem asked.

  “A formal alliance. I need your help and you need mine.” Crowe pulled an index card from his pocket. “The thirteen names on this list are all employees of Juke Limited in your finance department who are guilty of criminal activity, including wire fraud, bank fraud, bribery, and money laundering. We have more than enough evidence for prosecutors to secure indictments and have police take every one of these individuals into custody. Can you picture that image in your mind, Mr. Jukes? Thirteen Juke employees in a line, hands cuffed behind their backs, heads hung low with shame, as they’re led into prison? Can you imagine how that would play on the nets?”

  “I can imagine some non-flattering headlines, yes.”

  “The press would eat it up,” said Crowe. “Especially after all the fuss you’ve made in the news regarding Wila. This would be chapter two in the chronicles of your poor leadership. Confidence in the company would collapse. IF contracts might disappear. The people of Earth, whose taxes fund this company, would call for your head. Your stock would freefall.”

  “You’re forgetting that I’m no longer CEO,” said Lem. “The fate of this company is no longer my concern.”

  “Oh, you care very much about this company and its people,” said Crowe. “You can’t convince me otherwise.”

  “So you have dirt on some people in my accounting department,” said Lem. “If your intent is to blackmail me, Mr. Crowe, you’re wasting my time. Not my company, not my problem.”