Web of Fire Bind-up (45 page)

‘Sorry.'

‘Now the way I see it, these hornets are going to finish feeding their larvae pretty soon. When they do, we can make a move.'

‘What about the other hornets? There must be hundreds of them.'

‘Yes, but listen,' said Sam. ‘Can you hear that noise?'

Skipper put her head on one side and listened. A faint scratching sound was coming from the cells beneath the hornets.

‘What is it?' Skipper asked.

‘That's the sound the larvae make when they're hungry – bit like baby birds when they squawk at their mothers. It's a signal that they want to be fed. But if you listen carefully, you can tell that the noise is getting fainter all the time. Soon they'll be so busy digesting their bits of caterpillar that they'll stop scratching for a while. And when they do, the hornets will deliver their food to larvae in other parts of the nest.'

Skipper gave Sam an amused look.

‘You certainly know your hornets,' she said.

Sam pointed to a gap between where the layer of cells stopped and the outer walls of the nest curved down past it.

‘See that gap? That's our route down to the next layer. If we're lucky, we can climb down without being spotted and make our way to the egg-laying chamber.'

Skipper held up her hand. ‘Listen,' she said. ‘I think that's it.'

Sam listened and nodded. The scratching had stopped.

‘That's it all right,' he said.

They watched from their hiding place as, one by one, the hornets moved across the tops of the cells before disappearing with a loud buzz.

‘OK,' said Sam. ‘Soon as the last one goes, we make a run for it. Straight over the cells, down the gap and into the egg chamber. Then we grab one egg each, and come back for the ropes.'

‘So what's our exit strategy?' asked Skipper. ‘Still drop and swing?'

Sam thought about a discussion they'd had back in the restaurant where they had agreed the best way out of the nest would be to fasten the ropes somewhere near the base and swing out onto the nearest branch.

‘Yes,' he said. ‘Let's stick with that.'

It was certainly risky, but it had the advantage of being quick which – where angry hornets were concerned – was a definite bonus.

‘Ready?' asked Skipper as the last of the hornets flew off through the gap.

Sam took a deep breath.

‘Ready,' he said.

He held out his fist and Skipper bumped it with her knuckles.

‘Let's go!'

Then they were off, running hard across the hexagonal ridges that surrounded the edges of the larva cells. Sam could feel the tiny vibrations of the larvae as they squirmed beneath his feet, but within seconds he found himself at the edge of the cell layer, staring all the way down to the hole at the base of the nest. In between the stream of hornets arriving and departing, he could just make out the forest floor far below.

There was a sudden scream behind him.

‘Sam! Help me!'

Turning, he saw that a maggoty white larva had thrust its head up, caught hold of Skipper's foot and was attempting to drag her back into its cell. Another of the larvae had latched onto her arms and was pulling her back the other way.

‘Hang on!' Sam shouted. He raced frantically back towards her and like a football player executing a drop-kick in the closing seconds of a match, he booted the nearest maggot as hard as he could. There was a loud, soggy
thwack
as the creature's head flapped backwards and a gobbet of yellow slime flew out of its mouth, splattering the front of his jacket. Immediately, Skipper pushed herself up with her free leg and swung her fist around so hard that it smacked the other larva sideways, sending it wriggling back to the safety of its cell.

‘You want lunch, maggot?' she asked icily, pulling a grenade from her pocket. ‘I'll give you some lunch.'

Sam grabbed her firmly by the arm and steered her back towards the edge of the nest. He gently took the
grenade from her hand and returned it to her pocket.

‘Save it,' he said. ‘We've got work to do.'

Peering cautiously over the edge he saw that, besides the outer wall of the nest which was on the far side of a five- or six-metre gap there was only an internal wall of smooth paper below them. This extended downwards for several metres until the next layer of combs was reached but, as far as he could see, there were no handholds anywhere.

‘I think we're going to need the ropes,' he said.

‘No we're not,' replied Skipper. She crouched down, gripped the side of the comb and then, to Sam's surprise, began to lower herself over the edge.

‘Careful!' he warned as her knuckles whitened under the strain.

‘Don't worry,' said Skipper. ‘It's made of paper, remember?'

Swinging her leg back, she kicked at the wall with the toe of her boot. There was a muffled thud and leaning over the edge Sam saw that her foot had practically disappeared into its soft, pulpy structure. Fragments of paper floated down like confetti towards the base of the nest.

‘See?' said Skipper. ‘Easy-peasy.' She punched a couple of handholds into the wall and began her slow descent toward the next layer.

‘All right!' said Sam. He smiled and swung himself neatly over the edge.

It was really quite simple when you got the hang of it,
like climbing down the side of a steep, snowy hill. If you needed a hand- or foothold, you just punched or kicked a new one out for yourself. And although the paper structure was quite soft, it was also amazingly strong. In no time at all, Skipper had reached the opening to the next layer. But as Sam joined her, several hornets flew past and buzzed loudly out of the entrance, the wind from their wings sweeping upwards with such force that it nearly blew them off the wall.

‘Jeepers,' said Sam. ‘Didn't see that coming.'

‘That was close,' said Skipper, lifting her face back off the wall again. ‘I thought we were goners that time. Hang on a sec while I take a peek.'

She swung her legs around like the hands of a clock so that she appeared to be doing a handstand up the side of the wall. When her feet were above her head she kicked out two fresh holes and slotted her feet in. Then, hanging by the tips of her boots, she put her hands on the edge of the chamber below and peered in. As Sam watched, she gave a little squeak and quickly pulled her head back again.

‘How's it looking?' asked Sam.

‘Not good,' said Skipper, climbing back up the wall again. ‘The queen's in there so it's definitely the egg-laying chamber. Problem is, the place is absolutely swarming with worker hornets.'

‘Are you sure it was the queen?' asked Sam. ‘Was she twice the size of the others?'

‘And then some,' said Skipper. ‘Listen, we've got big problems. Those worker hornets are doing nothing else but guarding her. If we go in there now and try to steal her eggs, they'll rip us apart.'

Hornets' nest

Sam felt his mouth go dry at the thought of being attacked by giant hornets. He imagined the inscrutable stare of their robot-like faces and the crunch of their jaws as they plunged their sharp, agonising stings into him like hot swords.

Closing his eyes and pressing his face into the soft paper wall, he heard himself say, ‘We can't give up now, Skipper. We have
got
to get those eggs.'

‘I know,' said Skipper. ‘But I'm beginning to run out of ideas.'

Sam let out a heavy sigh and opened his eyes again. But what he saw next sent a sudden sparkle of excitement through his veins. The patch where he had pushed his face into the papery wall and breathed upon it had become strangely translucent, like a misted-up window. And there, on the other side of it, was a white, oval object the size of a rugby ball.

‘Skipper!' he hissed. ‘Over here! I think I've found one!'

Skipper quickly traversed hand over fist across the wall towards him.

‘What have you got?' she asked breathlessly.

‘Look,' he whispered. ‘In there.'

Skipper pressed her face against the wall for a second or two and then turned to him with a smile.

‘Ker-
ching
! Sammy boy, I think you've hit the jackpot.'

‘All right,' said Sam. ‘Let's nick it and get out of here.'

‘There must be a third chamber between the other two,' said Skipper. ‘Perhaps they seal it off while the eggs are developing and open it up again when the larvae hatch.'

‘Maybe,' said Sam. ‘To be honest, I don't give a stuff as long as it keeps me away from those hornets. Pass me your knife a minute.'

Skipper pulled the knife from her belt and held it out towards Sam, handle first.

‘There you go, doctor.'

Sam pushed the knife into the wall and, using a sawing motion, cut out a thick, circular slab of paper before carefully removing it and passing it to Skipper.

‘Cool,' she said. With a flick of her wrist, she sent it spinning into space like a frisbee. It glanced off the far wall of the nest before tumbling towards the bottom like a coin falling down a well.

‘Skipper, don't!' Sam hissed in alarm. ‘You'll have them all up here in a minute.'

‘Hornet frisbee,' mused Skipper. ‘Now there's an idea…'

Ignoring her, Sam stuck his head into the hole and found himself looking into a waxy, hexagonal cell. The egg was in the middle, some way beyond the grasp of his outstretched hand.

‘How's it looking?' asked Skipper.

Sam popped his head out of the hole again.

‘I can't quite reach it. I think I'm going to have to crawl in and get it.'

‘Do you want me to go?' asked Skipper enthusiastically. ‘I'm smaller than you.'

‘No, don't worry. I think I can fit. Tell you what – if you can just hold open your rucksack, I'll pass the egg back to you.'

‘OK,' said Skipper. ‘But be careful.'

Using his forearms to grip the floor of the cell, Sam pulled himself over to the egg and touched its surface with the palm of his hand. The thin white membrane felt smooth to the touch, like the skin of a ping-pong ball. Gripping it firmly with both hands, he tried to pick it up, but it was stuck fast.

‘Come on,' he muttered and pulled harder, but the egg wouldn't budge. Examining the base, he found that it was anchored in place by some sort of yellow glue.

Using the knife to saw away at the base of the egg, he was relieved to see that it cut through the material quite easily. After a minute or two, the egg began to wobble and he wrapped an arm around it to stop it falling over. A few moments later he was wriggling back to Skipper with it safely in his arms.

‘Good work, Sam,' said Skipper.

‘Do you think one's enough?'

‘Should be. Once we get back, the engineers will use pheromones to make it develop into a queen. Then we can get all the eggs we want.'

‘Maybe we'd better get another one – just to be on the safe side,' suggested Sam as Skipper rolled the egg
carefully into her rucksack, coiling the ropes around it to provide some protection.

‘One more then,' she agreed. ‘But that'll have to be it.'

‘Right,' said Sam. ‘Won't be a minute.' He twisted around inside the cell and began to cut his way through to the next one.

‘Don't be long,' said Skipper, listening to the faint scratching sound floating down from the layer above. ‘I think the larvae are getting hungry again.'

Sam squeezed through the hole he had made with the knife and stared at the egg in the middle.

‘Skipper,' he called. ‘Come here a minute. See what you think.'

Pushing the rucksacks ahead of her, Skipper crawled along until she reached the cell where Sam was sitting.

‘What is it?' she asked.

‘Look,' said Sam. He nodded towards the egg and Skipper saw that there was something wriggling inside it. ‘I'd say it's about ready to hatch.'

‘Oh
yuk
,' she said. ‘Don't think I want that crawling out of my rucksack in the middle of the night. Let's leave it and go for the next one.'

Sam inched past on his hands and knees until he came to the far wall of the cell, where he proceeded to cut another hole before poking his head through into the next one.

‘This one looks fine,' he said. He slid into the cell and used the knife again to free the egg from its base. Skipper pushed his rucksack through the hole and he
quickly rolled the second egg into it, pulling the draw-strings tight around the top and tying it shut.

‘Job done,' he said.

‘Good,' said Skipper. ‘Then let's get out of here.'

Sam was about to move when there was a tearing sound beneath him. Seeing the horrified look on Skipper's face, he looked down and saw a large crack opening up in the floor between his knees. It snaked across the base of the cell and as his hands scrabbled for grip on the smooth pulpy walls he heard Skipper shout ‘Sam, watch out!' Then, with a loud ripping noise, the floor of the cell gave way and he crashed down into the queen's egg chamber below.