They watched as dancing traces flickered and disappeared from the projection.

“Ape’s just gone down again sir!” called a technician. A siren sounded. Panic.

The Coordinator just stared, not believing. “This can’t happen.”

*

They met in closed session. A dozen individuals responsible for the welfare of untold millions.

“Three times already” one said. “you know what that means.”

“Lives at stake…” muttered another.

“Death.” A palm slammed on the table. “Without the Apis-net we can’t coordinate. We must know the cause.”

*
The airlock hissed shut as a technician entered the central register. She consulted the schematic, found the correct terminal. Heard the buzz of the net rise in pitch as she unlocked the panel, extracted the module: a short rectangular beam. She opened the lid and examined the components. Apis mellifera, dozens and dozens, wired into their individual cells, wingless and immobile. She turned the beam and shook. Hundreds of crisp, black bodies, popcorn-light, fell to the floor. Dead.