Theatre of Hades - the Numerologist Can't Stop the Bees
The Numerlogist Can’t Stop the Bees
Men in high priced suits carrying leather briefcases walked to the right tower of the 12th century castle—the office simply known as FARM. It had been renovated from a castle in Belgium of obscure origins. The renovation was made possible by FARM”s runaway business model providing high quality honey. The problem had been the bee’s behavior. They naturally made honey in circles in alternating combs. Honey output was greatly increased when the bees were induced to make hives in spirals. Now the businessmen were here to listen to a prominent numerologist about getting the bees to conform to the golden spiral—a mathematical perfection, long know to distinguished mathematicians as an ideal, a mathematical constant. Previous spirals had not been mathematically perfect. FARM had only recently developed the technique and it only stood to reason that it could be improved with mathematics and engineering.
The men all sat down to the castle’s old banquet table and the meeting began.
“Now,” the numerologist began, “We all know that bees make comb-like structures to store honey rather than produce it. Meanwhile the queen mates with the drone to ensure enough eggs are laid for the colony’s continual survival. That’s how bees have done things throughout the centuries. But of course, when the bees can be induced to structure their hives in a spiral, the honey can easily be extracted for sale. The bees can survive on a chemical cocktail which you own the patents to. This is of course common knowledge to you all.”
“Of course,” everyone seemed to nod their heads in agreement.
“Now, it stands to reason that the perfect spiral, the golden spiral, will produce the most honey from its mathematical perfection. But how do we induce the bees to do this? Our techniques are imperfect. But it stands to reason that if we simply find the right number, that is a mathematical constant, it will lend the bees to naturally make honey according to that ratio.
“Ow!” proclaimed one of the executives apparently for little reason. “Sorry,” he began, justifying his reaction. “Our hive farms are only a few miles away. One of those bees most have wandered off. Go on with your presentation,” the executive looked up, rubbing his arm.
“You must be asking yourself, what is a mathematical constant? First you must understand irrational numbers. Most people are used to rational numbers, like 1, or 1.52 or 4/5. An irrational number is one that never shows a pattern. The most well known is pi. 3.1415 and on and on. The ending decimal places never show any type of pattern. But we know their properties. Pi is the ratio between a circle’s diameter and circumference. That ratio never changes, and pi becomes useful for an enormous array of mathematical applications.
The numerologist noticed a man growing quite fidgety with his tie. It irritated him for some reason, so he stopped and inquired what was the matter.
“It’s getting kind of hot. I thought we installed state of the art heaters in this old fortress.”
“Yeah, another executive complained, “It is getting kind of stuffy.”
“Strange,” the numerologist noted. Castles are generally set into the ground. They stay cool all the time. Well, I guess when you try to renovate things there’s bound to be kinks somewhere in the system.
“Now, back to my point. What we need is a new mathematical constant. One that can find the variety of applications we see for pi, but applied to honey production, bee behavior, and an eventual golden spiral hive.”
“Excuse me could you speak up?” another executive asked. “I’m having difficulty hearing.”
The numerologist let out a groan from all these constant interruptions. He expected businessmen to be able to sit through board meetings that were uncomfortable.
“Where’s your staff?” the numerologist complained. “Look, I get started talking on something and I want to finish. Have a staff member deal with all these complaints and I’ll take things up when he gets back.
A staff member went to discuss the issues with maintenance, he returned with a look of terrible panic and uttered a single word, “Bees!”
“What?” everyone turned around to look at him.
“Bees,” he repeated, regaining some of his senses. “The castle is surrounded by bees.”
“What do you mean, surrounded?“ another executive asked.
“Can’t you hear them?”
The atmospherics in the boardroom turned sinister. Everyone in the room had grown accustomed to office environments with low rumbling noises. Computers, servers, finger tips at keys, active printers. Now that someone pointed it out it all became quite clear. There were no office supplies in the board room. Those were wing beats.
Commotion stirred in the boardroom. It was true there was a hive farm a few miles away, and bees occasionally did breach the castle. But it was nothing a little bug spray couldn’t handle. It was clear now that they were swarming outside the castle. But for what purpose no one could ascertain.
One of the executives tried to take control of the situation. Something seriously wrong had gone on at the hive farm, and its numerous staff of scientists and bee keepers must be trying to contain the damage. They just needed to tell the hive farm that they might need to evacuate them. He went for his cell phone. But he kept getting static. The board room feared the worst. There might be so many bees that they couldn’t get cell reception, which was terrifying because the whole room carried cell phones that didn’t drop calls.
The numerologist began his presentation anew. “Obviously there’s been some problem in your operations. If the bees rejected an imperfect spiral, their behavior could be predictably erratic. Now as I was saying…”
The swarm kept getting louder and louder. The air in the room had acquired a caustic quality. No one could explain it other to feel that something was getting sucked out of the room. Every executive panicked in their own minds. But the numerologist seemed fearless. There was no way they could escape a swarm of bees if they truly had surrounded the castle. The board room instructed maintenance to scout out the problem and then to seal the airways to keep the bees out but to maintain circulation.
“A number of mathematical constants can be derived through an infinite series. This includes many of the great constants of mathematics. The golden ratio, the base of the natural logarithm, and pi all follow this pattern. I have a research team that can crunch numbers should this proposal win you over.”
The swarm kept increasing in intensity, but had not become deafening. The smell began to be as overriding as the roaring drone It had that sickening odor with a sinister sweetness, like sugar mixed with rotten meat. If was it was if the bee’s honey had become gangrenous and its residue was pouring into the castle.
“Of course these series are actually rather simple. We may need to look for one that’s complex. That’s why I’m recommending the use of infinite series software. We can take your data and then run numerous millions of infinite series to try to match your own data. That’s the beauty of numerology you see, interconnections that seem obvious can be revealed through numbers. You have an almost infinite number of directions you can pursue to increase honey production.”
The numerologist began digging through some old tomes, classics on numerology that he was familiar with and might provide a beginning of avenue for research.
Meanwhile, an executive shouted “The bees are here!” and pointed to the ceiling. The executives all looked up to see a ceiling in movement that could only mean the bees were here. The executives dashed away in fear. Of course, these modified bees still reacted to the instincts that lay unaltered—that threats to the hive would be thrashing about and scream. Within minutes the executives were stung to death.
The numerologist stood motionless and watched the scene in horror. He had proceeded with the conference under the notion that the company’s bee control system would take care of everything. From what little he knew about bees he did not understand why they would storm an area so aggressively so far away from their hive, unprovoked.
“The spirals…” he muttered in epiphany. An unintended consequence of the bee’s new spiral building may have made the bees more aggressive, changing their instincts as to what they considered a threat to the hive. Now staff was all dying and the numerologist froze. “If only they would have made the spirals perfect before mass production.” He muttered to himself. But it did not matter. Soon a thousand pin pricks, burning like peroxide in a wound, overwhelmed his body, and his corpse dropped to the floor.
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