Bee Bot

by Makenna Grace

Day: 5423
Time: 7:15 AM
Primary Objective: Care for the bees in the Gardens of Colony B2-41
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“Awakening Protocol; Successful,” a robotic voice announces. It is my own. Taking a step out of my docking station, my charging cords disconnect from me and slither back into the wall. My feet clunk against the metal floor as I follow the normal path to the Gardens.

“Hey, BB!” Joan Danile. Janitor. Age: Forty-two. Status: Positive. Relevance to Primary Objective: Beneficial.

“Greetings, Danile,” I say, mimicking her gesture of raising her hand. A wave, as humans call it. We pass each other and my arm lowers. My walk continues. Planet 41’s sun is slowly rising over the distant mountain range. I had recently requested to move my docking station closer to the Gardens to improve my efficiency. However, I received the answer yesterday.

It would cost too much time and resources when I have been deemed effective. The location of the docking stations had also been chosen to be near the human resting quarters in an effort to promote camaraderie.

I disagree with administration’s decision. It takes me five minutes to reach the Gardens. Those five minutes should be given to my job of caring for the apiaries. A closer docking station would also mean I could stay at the Gardens later. Positive relations with the human workers of the colony is only a secondary objective. So, I will apply next year. Again.

“Morning, BB!” Henry Harold. Internal Atmosphere Technician. Age: Thirty-six. Status: Positive. Relevance to Primary Objective: Essential.

“Greetings, Harold. Is there an issue with the breathing conditions in this sector?” I inquire, looking down at him.

“No, no, don’t worry. I’m just passing through,” Harold states. I nod, another human gesture. One of agreement or acknowledgment.

“Affirmative. Goodbye,” I respond. Harold nods back and I enter the Gardens.

It housed various flora from the human’s home world of Earth, all from different biomes. There were also subcategories dictated by where the plant originates on Earth and uses. The Greenhouse Section is where the food for the fauna of the colony grew. The Orchards held fruit trees. There are also the Herb Gardens and Apothecary Gardens. These are just a few, however.

My favorite, as deemed by my human colleagues, is the Flower Garden. It is most appropriate for bees and boasts a perfect symbiotic relationship for them. Also deemed by humans, my least favorite was the ‘Australian’ Section. From tales that have been recounted to me about this ‘Australia’ on Earth, it seems to be the most dangerous environment and, thus, a danger to my bees. Of course, it is a controlled environment, and the bees still have a job to be done in that sector. I just make sure to keep closer optics on them when caring for those hives.

I scan the sector- the Butterfly Gardens- and locate two humans. I raise my hand in greeting once again and walk over. One notices me before the other.

“Oh! BB! This is Oliver, our new coworker!” Susan Clarke. Botanist. Age: Twenty-three. Status: Positive. Relevance to Primary Objective: Essential

The one Clarke was talking to turns around, eye level with my abdomen. He stumbles back at my proximity, as well as the red laser that sweeps over him. Oliver Hamwell. Groundskeeper. Age: Nineteen. Status: Neutral. Relevance to Primary Objective: Unclear.

“Affirmative. Greetings, Hamwell,” I greet. He nods and looks at Clarke.

“Oliver, this is BB. She cares for our bees,” Clarke explains. Hamwell looks between us.

“BB?” He asks.

“Short for Bee Bot. It is a ‘nickname’ humans have given me. My official designation is Apiary Care Automaton 339386-B2-41,” I clarify. Hamwell slowly nods again. A quick movement in the corner of my optics catches my attention. A bee. They are awake. “I must return to my duty. Meeting you was a pleasure, Hamwell.”

~

“Hey, uh… robot!” A voice yells. Hamwell. I turn, looking up from the clipboard holding today’s rotations. He approaches me, holding something in his hand. “I, uh… didn’t know if I was just supposed to throw it out or what. So… what do I do?” He asks, uncurling his hand. I stare at the object. A bee. I gently take it from his hand, scanning it when it lays in my own palm. Bee #11128943. Heartbeat: Negative. Vital Signs: Negative. CPR: Not Advised.

“Is there, like, a graveyard for them or…?” Hamwell prompts. Clarke walks over to us.

“Primary Objective: Failed. I must seek mechanical help.” I state, optics not leaving Bee #11128943. My programming dictates that the objective has been failed. But why? Clarke pales and rushes forward, peeking up on her tiptoes into my hand.

“What did you do?” She hisses, taking the clipboard from me and slamming it against Oliver’s chest.

“I have failed my Primary Objective. I need to be fixed,” I state. Clarke shakes her hand.

“Oh, no, not you, BB,” Clarke sighs, before turning towards Hamwell, “You.”

“I-I found it on the ground! Wh-What was I supposed to do?” Hamwell asks, voice up an octave. I poke at Bee #11128943. No response. Possibility of being in stasis; 0%. Conclusion: Unknown. “Does it not know things die?” Hamwell squeaks.

“What is ‘die’?” I inquire. Both humans stare at me, one with confusion and one with… anger. Clarke takes a deep breath.

“Oliver, why don’t you take this bee and go find Amanda? Explain what happened,” Clarke orders, voice similar to mine.

“Why doesn’t it know what death is? A, like, million bees must have died already! What have you done about that?” Hamwell asks.

“There have been… others like Bee #11128943? My failure is greater than I have previously calculated. I must be broken,” I state, optics still scanning the tiny creature in my hand.

“No, no, no, no BB…. It’s okay,” Clarke hushes. She covers my hand with her own and my head tilts up to observe her. Her face scrunches up as she looks back at Hamwell. “Oliver. Go.”

Hamwell races off and Clarke’s face returns to normal as she looks at me. She turns my hand over, letting Bee #11128943 fall into her own.

“Listen, BB, this isn’t a failure.” She whispers. I tilt my head.

“My programming has deemed it so. And if there are others such as #11128943, then it appears I have failed many times before. Perhaps I should be decommissioned until I am fixed.” I state, moving my hand to peek into hers. She moves her other hand on top of mine, closing the gap.

“No. This is… normal. When a bee is… done with its life, sometimes they… go to sleep. Forever. It’s something we call death.” Clarke sighs. Another bee flies over, landing on top of our hands. It crawls around and Clarke smiles at it. Bee #11128540.

“Then the administration must be wrong. My care for these bees has been consistently rated as perfect. However, if #11128943 has decided to commit to this ‘death’, then I must be lacking in some area.” I conclude. Clarke shakes her head, gently moving her top hand, as well as my own.

“Dying isn’t really a… choice they get to make. It’s… like a timer. It starts once they hatch and when it hits 0, they go.” Clarke explains. #11128540 crawls into her open palm, searching around #11128943. Climbing on top, #11128540 begins to fly again, carrying them away. “That one will take care of 11128943’s body and, while the hive will be sad, life will go on.”

There is silence between us as we watch the other bees fly around, pollinating flowers and collecting nectar. I had questioned why there was an ‘Undertaker’ listed as a possible job for bees. I guess Undertakers cared for the… not live ones.

“Will I die?”

“Oh! No, no, you won’t. Don’t worry about that, BB.”

“Will you die?”

“I…”

Clarke falls silent, chewing on her bottom lip. She glances around the area, refusing to meet my optics. Her heartbeat quickens as droplets of water form on her hairline. Her face also turns red. “You seem to be overheating. I advise you go see the nearest medic.” I state.

“Oh, uh, yes! I’ll go do that. Thank you, BB. Um, why don’t you continue with your work today? And if you really want to, we can go to see one of the mechanics after work, alright? Alright, bye!” Clarke rambles, rushing off. I stare after her, before looking back at my palm.

New Task related to Primary Objective discovered.
New Task:
Discover death.

BIO

Makenna Grace is a College Senior from the Hill Country in Central Texas. She is pursuing a BFA in Creative Writing at Stephen F. Austin University. She looks for the magic in everyday life with the help of her twenty-two toed cat.