To Bee Or Not To Bee

Roger was having a difficult time keeping the sweat out of his eyes. The helmet he wore to give his drone commands blew cool air across his scalp but it wasn’t enough. He worried the sweat would short something and the mission would fail like so many others.

“Focus,” he told himself. “Be the bee.”

Roger was operating a bumblebee drone. It flew, moved and buzzed just like a real bumblebee and because of its size was able to hold more sensors and computing power than the wasp, fly, hornet, mosquito and other insect drones being developed. All the men working on the drones were in their twenties like Roger. Unlike them, Roger didn’t play online games, hadn’t seen any of the “Fast and Furious” movies nor did he have any tattoos. The other developers called him a pussy for working on a bumblebee and butterfly drone. Roger grew tired of explaining the advantages of his drones and that the bumblebee may not be cool like the wasp, but its battery ran twice as long, could send a clear signal feed to a satellite and because of its bumbling nature was seen as less threatening than other insects. His butterfly drone had sensors and solar cells embedded in the wings, which not only acted like sonar as it flapped them but gave it an almost unlimited range since it never ran out of power.

***

“Look at your audience,” one programming explained to Roger, “we’re selling to the military. You think the marines want to buy a butterfly drone? Hell no, they want something kick ass like a wasp or hornet.”

“People kill wasps and flies and hornets, but they don’t mind bumblebees and butterflies which makes them better for surveillance,” Roger replied.

“Nobody can touch my wasp, it’s way too fast. Plus, it can release tear gas if anyone gets near it.”

“Tear gas? Really? You don’t think it will seem suspicious that a wasp is releasing tear gas? Give me a break.”

“Go cry to your Mama, you wuss. Or better yet go work for someone who can use your talents, like maybe Romper Room!” The other developers all laughed at this. Roger put on his headphones, and went back to work.

***

The operating system was a virtual reality. The helmet gave Roger visual feedback as well as tactical data and readouts from a variety of sensors. The bumblebee was partly autonomous, and if set on autopilot would mimic the behavior of an average bee. The idea was to get near a target and capture video or audio evidence, or if possible to collect electronic data. Roger had dozens of missions under his belt, but had never found anything of value other than nectar. One of the developers called him “Bumbler” and it stuck.

The bumblebee’s nose was equipped with a probe that could unspool a microscopic thread, weaving its way through the components of a cell phone or computer until it found the processor. Once there it would insert a viral node. The node was a tiny bead that fed a mutating virus into the operating system and would silently send a copy of the computer’s contents to the satellite. If for some reason the node could not be planted, the bee could upload the data directly but had to remain in contact with the device. As a last resort, the bumblebee could release an acid that would melt the processor.

Even though people are generally comfortable with bumblebees, once they start crawling over their electronics they smash them as quick as they can.

The bee was designed to smoosh like an actual bumblebee, with its components disguised as bee organs and the liquid coolant the same color as bee blood. If someone looked at it under the microscope they would see everything but so far they had just scraped the bees into the trash.

Roger had been shopped out to the DEA to help to infiltrate a drug cartel by hovering around the primary drug lord’s villa. The cartel had come up with a much more potent and longer-lasting formula for cocaine. With the opioid crisis in the US, the cocaine trade had seen a significant decline in their market share and this new formulation was their hope for a rebound in sales. It was more purified and came in a little plastic bottle to put a drop on the tongue, in the eye or to snort up the nose. It was much easier to transport, was shelf stable and since it was a clear liquid could be easily hidden. The DEA wanted to know the formula so they could learn how to detect it moving across the border. This was Roger’s chance to shake his nickname and show what the bumblebee drone could do.

Roger was sweating because the drug lord’s daughter Rose had captured the bumblebee drone. She had noticed the bee buzzing around and fumbling through the flowers near her father as he sat by the pool discussing business. Roger was focused on the drug lord’s cell phone, hoping that once he set it down he could probe it and lay a virus bead. He didn’t notice Rose sneaking up on the bee with a glass jar, which she used to capture the drone. She showed it to her father, who waved her off pointing to his phone and holding up his hands as if to show he was helpless. Rose scowled at him, turned away and stomped up to her bedroom. She put sugar water and flowers in with the bee and set it on the desk near a window.

“Those six-year-olds can be pretty wily, eh Roger?” Agent Chambers chided. He was supervising all of Roger’s missions to provide information about target priorities and layout of the sites.

“The bee doesn’t have perimeter warning technology. The visual field is three hundred degrees and she managed to sneak up in my sixty-degree blind spot.”

“How do you plan to get out of there? How does a bumblebee escape a jar exactly? Was that part of your training?” Chambers chuckled to himself.

“I’m in contact with the research team now. In the meantime, I’m trying to make friends with a six-year-old girl by being the most goddamn charming bee she’s ever seen.”

Roger was irritated both by the situation and by Agent Chambers efforts to undermine his work. Chambers preferred old-fashioned surveillance like wiretaps and sitting a car watching a house. He was tired of spending his days staring at a computer with some kid sweating Mountain Dew.

“We have two choices,” Roger said, “either Rose lets us go or I break out. It would be better if she just lets the bumblebee go, out of the goodness of her heart.”

“Number one, this is the kid of a drug kingpin!” Chamber’s smirked, “she’s been raised on murder and mayhem so I don’t think she’s going to suddenly go mushy over a bug she caught. She’s way more likely to pour in some nail polish remover and stick you on a pin! And how exactly does a bumblebee break out anyway? Aren’t they Mother Nature’s little retards?”

“That’s a common misconception. They are actually quite clever,” Roger said. Chambers just laughed. Roger continued, “Bumblebees are cute, that’s why kids like them. If I can get her to understand that the bee doesn’t like being locked up inside a jar, maybe she’ll let me go. Breaking out is a last resort because it risks leaving clues that this isn’t a normal bumblebee. This one comes with an acid that can melt locks, latches and computers or I can dispense it out the stinger to cut a hole in the glass. But burning a hole in a piece of glass isn’t normal bee behavior.”

“Did you check if they have WiFi?” asked Agent Chambers.

“The man runs an international drug cartel! He won’t have WiFi, his home is like a fortress!” Roger replied.

“Check it.”

“Okay, I’ll check, even though it’s a waste …” Roger stopped mid-sentence.

“How many bars?” Agent Chambers asked.

“Four,” Roger replied through gritted teeth.

“Can you tap into it? See if you can figure out the password.”

“You know, this isn’t like the movies where you put in somebody’s birthday and magically you’re in the system. It’s probably a thirty-character alpha numeric code with symbols sprinkled in for good measure.”

“Try ‘druglord.’”

“It’ll never work,” Roger typed in the code as disdainfully as he could. “Nope. No go. What else would you like to try?”

“Did you type it in Spanish? What’s Spanish for drug lord? Hang on, I’ll Google it.” Agent Chambers thumbed his phone for a moment, “Okay, it’s ‘droga rey.’ Try that.”

Roger entered the code, “Nope. Any other bright ideas?”

“Try ‘droga rey one two three.’”

Roger sighed, “How many of these are we going to … I’m in.”

“There, see, that wasn’t so hard. And now you don’t have to make a bee dance for a six-year-old girl.”

Roger reviewed the WIFI network and there were over twenty devices listed. As he reviewed them he found one named “lab computer.”

“That’s it,” Agent Chambers said.

“Boy, these drug lords aren’t very tech savvy. Let me start the upload,” despite being shown up by Agent Chambers, Roger was thrilled to finally capture some evidence. But as the data started streaming in, Roger’s screens suddenly went wild, like his signal was being scrambled. He lost his connection with the satellite and couldn’t get control of the drone.

“Maybe their tech is better than you thought,” Chambers said.

The screens cleared, but everything was upside down. The bumblebee was no longer streaming data, just a visual feed. The screen flickered, and Roger watched as the bee’s legs curled under and the signal went dark.

***

Rose had been watching the bee do its dance, and was charmed. She’d never seen anything like it and felt sure it was being friendly and wanted to buzz around the room as her new pet. But then it suddenly slid to the bottom of the jar and quit moving while Roger was typing in passwords. Rose waited, but nothing happened. She tapped the glass, but still nothing.

Rose’s father spoiled her, and she was used to getting her way, and patience was not one of her virtues. She picked up the jar and shook it, bouncing the drone around like ping pong ball in a Lotto drawing.

Rose stopped shaking the jar, and the drone laid on its back, not moving, no longer relaying or receiving any signals.

Estúpido abejorro,” she said, unscrewed the lid and dumped the bumblebee in the trash.

***

“Fuck! The autopilot, I forgot the autopilot!” Roger exclaimed.

Roger took off his headset and slammed it on his desk, “Dammit! That was so close!” Agent Chambers smiled and patted Roger on the shoulder, “Don’t feel bad. We can use the data you gathered, we just need to get some better technology.”  He picked up the phone and called Roger’s boss.  Roger was crushed. He wondered if maybe the jerks he worked with were right.  “Yeah, this is Agent Chambers at the DEA. I think we found a weak link in the cartel’s operation. Send me over a butterfly drone.”

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